[he does his best to minimize the damage on Beverly's end, but he knows that Tek isn't going to wait forever. he hurries back to the station proper as soon as he thinks he can manage, and starts searching for his ticking time-bomb of a friend.
...which he thought would be much easier than it is. he's got to be around somewhere, right? where the fuck does this guy have to hide?]
[well, he had a few chores to take care of first. as Robin searches around, he might notice that the sleepy station is even more quiet and empty than it had been before. it's as if someone has systematically gone around and 'encouraged' every single straggler to depart from the station.
and it's only once the place is absolutely empty that Tek reappears, strolling back from one of the docking areas and heading toward the park.]
[the lack of people is more of a relief than anything. it could have been dead bodies. he'd know if they were all hiding; he assumes that whatever Tek has done so far has caused them to scatter.
and he's even more relieved when he finally sees him. he doesn't know what he's doing, but he slips easily into pretending he does. it's a familiar feeling, and it gnaws anxiously at the back of his head. eyes up, face tipped down, a sly smile matched by a friendly little wave.
he does not stop walking. his course is charted to intercept.]
[the dragon hardly glances in his direction, and he doesn't slow. just an easy, constant pace toward the park, with his aura trailing as an invisible, unstable wake behind him.]
[Robin is long past "bad signs". he feels like every second he's not being struck down is a tiny miracle... while exciting, it makes the situation harder to think through. he walks until he can fall into a pace next to him, folding his gloved hands politely behind his back.]
It looked like you and the good doctor were having the argument of the century.
Edited (Stick messes up idioms, part 37.) 2016-01-04 01:46 (UTC)
[there was no debate. there was no back-and-forth. it was something final--a statement that he is apparently surrendering to with no small amount of monstrous rage.]
[he says this very plainly, almost pointedly, as they walk. he doesn't want Tek to think that he's playing some game with this one. there's a whole portrait of a problem here, and he can only see a tiny corner of the picture.]
I tried to ask her what the problem was, but all she mentioned was a war that she saw? Something to do with that Calibration stuff?
[as a testament to just how volatile the whole thing is, a glimpse of all the things that must be going through his head right then, just the suggestion of what happened is enough for something to catch and ignite.
his mask breaks right apart. who is there to care about his face anymore, anyway? it's just him, another monster, and the audience-- and he hopes they're watching now.
his face splits into a hideous, wet snarl in an instant; his pretty skin wrinkles up around his nose and eyes. gaze still stabbing straight forward at nothing, he doesn't slow, but he's hissing just to let the tension boil over without snapping.]
[physically, he stays poised and walking with his hands behind his back. mentally, he keeps attentive, recalculating now that he can clearly see the damage that this situation has done. but despite his best efforts, a shiver runs down his spine and his spirit recoils.
he would have thought this exciting, once, all this obvious danger. when did that change?]
They did. [his smirk is gone, at least.] They did it to me, too. We're dealing with something wicked and powerful.
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...which he thought would be much easier than it is. he's got to be around somewhere, right? where the fuck does this guy have to hide?]
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and it's only once the place is absolutely empty that Tek reappears, strolling back from one of the docking areas and heading toward the park.]
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and he's even more relieved when he finally sees him. he doesn't know what he's doing, but he slips easily into pretending he does. it's a familiar feeling, and it gnaws anxiously at the back of his head. eyes up, face tipped down, a sly smile matched by a friendly little wave.
he does not stop walking. his course is charted to intercept.]
What was that all about?
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You tell me. What did it look like?
[cold and light. it's probably a bad sign.]
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It looked like you and the good doctor were having the argument of the century.
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[there was no debate. there was no back-and-forth. it was something final--a statement that he is apparently surrendering to with no small amount of monstrous rage.]
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[he says this very plainly, almost pointedly, as they walk. he doesn't want Tek to think that he's playing some game with this one. there's a whole portrait of a problem here, and he can only see a tiny corner of the picture.]
I tried to ask her what the problem was, but all she mentioned was a war that she saw? Something to do with that Calibration stuff?
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his mask breaks right apart. who is there to care about his face anymore, anyway? it's just him, another monster, and the audience-- and he hopes they're watching now.
his face splits into a hideous, wet snarl in an instant; his pretty skin wrinkles up around his nose and eyes. gaze still stabbing straight forward at nothing, he doesn't slow, but he's hissing just to let the tension boil over without snapping.]
--They just let her right in.
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he would have thought this exciting, once, all this obvious danger. when did that change?]
They did. [his smirk is gone, at least.] They did it to me, too. We're dealing with something wicked and powerful.