[He's been in a Oscar-bait Flannery O'Connor homage is what happened.]
[It's a good answer. Airtight. He purses his lips a little and nods. A little better now than before is a pretty low bar. Don't throw people out windows for looking at you funny. Maybe don't torture people because you're pissed off. That seems straightforward.
It's just where to go from there that's tricky.
Calm. Calm.]
I'm betting some of the people in this group [ahem] weren't heroes on a quest to save jack before they came here, so that seems like a step up over yesterday.
[He absently moves his fingers over the engravings on the front of his shield, which he has half-lying on his knee. It's about then that he notices that the front of the shield is an oversized version of the Ebbing Police Department badge, and he feels his stomach tighten to the point of nausea.
He can't explain to her the whole sordid story; in a way he's still trying to endear himself to her, having now positioned her in his mind as someone whose opinion merits some weight and consideration. She sounds like she has the secret to inner peace. She makes it sound easy, even as she says it's hard and imperfect.
Even aside from that, he's enjoyed the conversation, the fact that it hasn't rapidly descended into hostility like so many of his other interactions with people here.]
I gotta go. [This small, group, everyone-in-the-same-boat setting makes coming up with an actual excuse unlikely, so he hopes that just sounding brusque and a little inexplicably angry will cut short any questions about why he suddenly gets up and takes off.]
no subject
He's been in a Oscar-bait Flannery O'Connor homage is what happened.][It's a good answer. Airtight. He purses his lips a little and nods. A little better now than before is a pretty low bar. Don't throw people out windows for looking at you funny. Maybe don't torture people because you're pissed off. That seems straightforward.
It's just where to go from there that's tricky.
Calm. Calm.]
I'm betting some of the people in this group [ahem] weren't heroes on a quest to save jack before they came here, so that seems like a step up over yesterday.
[He absently moves his fingers over the engravings on the front of his shield, which he has half-lying on his knee. It's about then that he notices that the front of the shield is an oversized version of the Ebbing Police Department badge, and he feels his stomach tighten to the point of nausea.
He can't explain to her the whole sordid story; in a way he's still trying to endear himself to her, having now positioned her in his mind as someone whose opinion merits some weight and consideration. She sounds like she has the secret to inner peace. She makes it sound easy, even as she says it's hard and imperfect.
Even aside from that, he's enjoyed the conversation, the fact that it hasn't rapidly descended into hostility like so many of his other interactions with people here.]
I gotta go. [This small, group, everyone-in-the-same-boat setting makes coming up with an actual excuse unlikely, so he hopes that just sounding brusque and a little inexplicably angry will cut short any questions about why he suddenly gets up and takes off.]