[ It should work like that, except it’s Jason and Tim isn’t adding to the mental load by trying to figure out if he’s being honest or difficult or both.
(Probably both just to piss Tim off.)
Oh god, ground. When the shadows fade into the parking lot, it’s like waking up from a falling dream. He’s not moving, but his brain tells him he must be. He was hanging, and now he is not.
There’s something wrong.
Kestrel’s broken in the truck, which is rocking on its crappy suspension from the force.
The alarm’s whooping. Less than ideal.
The parking lot getting strafed with rapid fire from a window is bad, but new.
(And critical so fuck figuring it out now.)
Rook takes a page from Kestrel, busting the passenger window to sit shotgun. On glass. Fun. ]
Hello everyone, we’ll be your rescuers this evening.
[ He’s turned to the heavy, white painted grating separating the front of the truck from the cargo, trying for competent and comedic to reassure whoever’s trapped back there. ]
We’ll get you out as soon as
[ BANG! The grating rattles and strains against its moorings. Tim has an impression of teeth and eyes and short fur through holes too small for his pinky finger. ]
no subject
(Probably both just to piss Tim off.)
Oh god, ground. When the shadows fade into the parking lot, it’s like waking up from a falling dream. He’s not moving, but his brain tells him he must be. He was hanging, and now he is not.
There’s something wrong.
Kestrel’s broken in the truck, which is rocking on its crappy suspension from the force.
The alarm’s whooping. Less than ideal.
The parking lot getting strafed with rapid fire from a window is bad, but new.
(And critical so fuck figuring it out now.)
Rook takes a page from Kestrel, busting the passenger window to sit shotgun. On glass. Fun. ]
Hello everyone, we’ll be your rescuers this evening.
[ He’s turned to the heavy, white painted grating separating the front of the truck from the cargo, trying for competent and comedic to reassure whoever’s trapped back there. ]
We’ll get you out as soon as
[ BANG! The grating rattles and strains against its moorings. Tim has an impression of teeth and eyes and short fur through holes too small for his pinky finger. ]
holy fuck drive!