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tongueamok| Hello, this is Carlisle. I mean, it's not Carlisle as in I'm actually answering you right now, so if you're trying to reply to me at the second, you should probably save your breath because I'm not really here. This is some kind of a recording of my voice, but this is my communicator. I'm going to assume these devices are as common here as they are in other places — not my world, but others, ones more technologically advanced than where I come from— so if you'd like to leave me a message, then you may do so here, or er... Right. Here is fine. So just leave yo— [beep] |
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Date: 2017-06-09 12:25 am (UTC)What is it you are so afraid of? What is it he's done to you that would have you behave this way?
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Date: 2017-06-09 12:38 am (UTC)[Frankly, she seems convinced that he's going to leave, and simply waiting for Carlisle to turn around and walk out that door.]
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Date: 2017-06-09 02:11 am (UTC)He might not say anything, but what he does do says enough: he cranks out the appropriate glyph with record speed, slams that piece of paper on the jug, and activates it. The glyph lights up white hot -- appropriate for the indignation he's feeling at that moment -- and burns right through the paper once he's finished rather than just evaporating away.
The jug steams as he lets the cinders fall from his fingers as he shoots her a glare.]
You want to repay me for this? Or for the other work I've done for you? I don't want your help with technology. I want you to at least attempt to learn how to be a reasonable human being. Cast your prejudices aside, as they do both you and him a disservice. They will do you no favors in a hell like this, and he does not deserve them.
Though perhaps you do.
[And with that, he storms out, slamming the door behind him like the well-mannered man he is.]