And the day having someone stuck up there on that godforsaken ship becomes gossip rather than the universal experience, maybe you should worry. But not. About. Me.
[Prior takes his arm back with deliberate care, running the palm of one hand over the wrist of the other. It's a stall more than a real test of any hurt - he watches Byerly just as carefully all the time.
And gestures for him to sit. When, and if he does, he gets an answer.]
No.
[With a shake of Prior's head. He needs a moment, just one, where the facade is back on and the world doesn't feel like it could so easily fall in. Where Byerly's veneer hasn't cracked quite so sharply. So, no.
He goes to the bar, instead. And might be heard, joking low: what can I say, my time is evidently in demand. When he comes back, he does sit, and slides a brandy across the table.
No divine revelation, just a memory: something about the comforts of home.]
no subject
[Prior takes his arm back with deliberate care, running the palm of one hand over the wrist of the other. It's a stall more than a real test of any hurt - he watches Byerly just as carefully all the time.
And gestures for him to sit. When, and if he does, he gets an answer.]
No.
[With a shake of Prior's head. He needs a moment, just one, where the facade is back on and the world doesn't feel like it could so easily fall in. Where Byerly's veneer hasn't cracked quite so sharply. So, no.
He goes to the bar, instead. And might be heard, joking low: what can I say, my time is evidently in demand. When he comes back, he does sit, and slides a brandy across the table.
No divine revelation, just a memory: something about the comforts of home.]