[Get back with me was sort of a hopeful order he'd expected to come with a gasp or Geralt glaring at him for the (light) facial slappage, but barely dodging some vomited black goo was hardly what he was waiting for.
Gross.
Nero's form settles on human again, the wings evaporating into blue specks of light that fade to nothing. He rubs Geralt on the back, the same thing he did when Julio got that real bad seafood poisoning the one time. Seemed to help. (Kyrie said it would help, when Nico had sworn she wasn't going within 30 feet of that bathroom.)
He only just misses Geralt clipping him with the fridge-sized angle of his shoulder.]
You are so far from fine, we're in fucking Unfineland. But it's cool. You don't need to be fine. [Nero leaves him against the wall for a second, closing the door that he may have blown open as closed as it can be. It sort of hangs awkwardly against the frame it (used to) fit in. Better than nothing.
Maybe 'cause it's so small -- or because Nero didn't mean to make it -- that the roll falls at his feet. He'd only thought: man, should probably shut this thing. He picks it up, pulling a long stretch of duct tape off the roll to help close the door more firmly.
Cool. Better.]
Maybe we should put a little distance between us and, uh, that. When you're ready. [Nero takes a seat on the first step, rubbing the back of his neck. The pain from the impact's gone and he's fine, but he's just. Really fucking confused. Where this is, and why Geralt's freaking out. He must have seen it before, right? 'Cause a little blood doesn't make a guy who hunts monsters do this.] I got your back until you are.
no subject
Gross.
Nero's form settles on human again, the wings evaporating into blue specks of light that fade to nothing. He rubs Geralt on the back, the same thing he did when Julio got that real bad seafood poisoning the one time. Seemed to help. (Kyrie said it would help, when Nico had sworn she wasn't going within 30 feet of that bathroom.)
He only just misses Geralt clipping him with the fridge-sized angle of his shoulder.]
You are so far from fine, we're in fucking Unfineland. But it's cool. You don't need to be fine. [Nero leaves him against the wall for a second, closing the door that he may have blown open as closed as it can be. It sort of hangs awkwardly against the frame it (used to) fit in. Better than nothing.
Maybe 'cause it's so small -- or because Nero didn't mean to make it -- that the roll falls at his feet. He'd only thought: man, should probably shut this thing. He picks it up, pulling a long stretch of duct tape off the roll to help close the door more firmly.
Cool. Better.]
Maybe we should put a little distance between us and, uh, that. When you're ready. [Nero takes a seat on the first step, rubbing the back of his neck. The pain from the impact's gone and he's fine, but he's just. Really fucking confused. Where this is, and why Geralt's freaking out. He must have seen it before, right? 'Cause a little blood doesn't make a guy who hunts monsters do this.] I got your back until you are.