[ Wait a week and see what this does to your conversational skills, Jason. Even if his mind's all scrambled up, it's easier over the networks than it is in-person, the thick smell of copper stuck in the air. He does smile though, crooked as it may be, tiny spark of a good (or at least ironic) mood reviving. ]
Oh Red, I don't hate you that much—hopefully you're a little better off.
[ Because he's only well-minded enough to objectively and consciously realize that he's losing the ability to be objective and conscious. But self-pity is even more pathetic than delusion; Lancer keeps his self-diagnosis as breezy as possible, gesturing vaguely to the air. ]
But if it'll keep you around, we can swap stories. It's been too quiet for my tastes.
[ Only safe company is that of other zombos, and that's a very loose and fast sort of safe. For Lancer's part, he seems content to maintain some distance. ]
no subject
Oh Red, I don't hate you that much—hopefully you're a little better off.
[ Because he's only well-minded enough to objectively and consciously realize that he's losing the ability to be objective and conscious. But self-pity is even more pathetic than delusion; Lancer keeps his self-diagnosis as breezy as possible, gesturing vaguely to the air. ]
But if it'll keep you around, we can swap stories. It's been too quiet for my tastes.
[ Only safe company is that of other zombos, and that's a very loose and fast sort of safe. For Lancer's part, he seems content to maintain some distance. ]