Even the sharp jerk of Emet-Selch's arm earns little more than a startled blink and the quiet rustle of feathers. It's hard feeling at all bothered when an overpowering lassitude's painted thick over his thoughts, convincing him that everything in his hazy perception of reality is perfectly fine as-is.
So the fact that anything at all manages to cut through that delusional filter of his is kind of impressive.
Gen looks over to follow Emet-Selch's gaze, idly at first but with increased tension when he sees what the other is talking about -- embers. Something that definitely doesn't belong in the daydreams he'd been wandering through. It's just jarring enough that he looks nervously back to Emet-Selch to demand hoarsely, "-- what're you doing."
no subject
So the fact that anything at all manages to cut through that delusional filter of his is kind of impressive.
Gen looks over to follow Emet-Selch's gaze, idly at first but with increased tension when he sees what the other is talking about -- embers. Something that definitely doesn't belong in the daydreams he'd been wandering through. It's just jarring enough that he looks nervously back to Emet-Selch to demand hoarsely, "-- what're you doing."