[ Isaac is nocturnal by assignment and nature. Now, an hour shy of dawn, Barrow's caught him at shift-edge. He is habitually quiet about the business of undressing; has gotten so far as bare feet and trousers when a knock breaks the still air.
He is expecting a caller for Siegfried. The odds of a human emergency strike slim – someone would be screaming by now –
He is not expecting Barrow. It shows on his face: A moment's dull confusion, a fearful, reflexive step back. He catches himself at the threshold. Irritation: ]
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He is expecting a caller for Siegfried. The odds of a human emergency strike slim – someone would be screaming by now –
He is not expecting Barrow. It shows on his face: A moment's dull confusion, a fearful, reflexive step back. He catches himself at the threshold. Irritation: ]
No.
[ He shuts the door. ]
no subject
Mm, [he grunts on the other side,] all right.
[He shuffles away. Into the harbor with it, then.]
no subject
As though he'd waste a clamworm that large. Absurd. ]