[ He’s frowning down at a sheaf of paper, watching as it scribbles down some weird limerick, but none of the names or vague references really resonate with him, and he moves on. (Still, that was a pretty good poem for something ostensibly written on the fly, and ostensibly thought-up by an animated quill, so, you know. Props.)
He glances up when the dude speaks, and Peter hesitates for a second.
Then, he sort of deflates. He was kind of hoping he could get away with this. ]
Yeah. Um. We have. Once.
[ ... to play coy or not to play coy? That is the question. Eventually, he rubs at a spot behind his ear – a nervous tic. ]
That labyrinth, a while back? When those psychos were chucking folks in their death maze.
no subject
He glances up when the dude speaks, and Peter hesitates for a second.
Then, he sort of deflates. He was kind of hoping he could get away with this. ]
Yeah. Um. We have. Once.
[ ... to play coy or not to play coy? That is the question. Eventually, he rubs at a spot behind his ear – a nervous tic. ]
That labyrinth, a while back? When those psychos were chucking folks in their death maze.