( Coughing, spluttering, a madness of laughter. He seems unable or unwilling to cease, consumed by a manic disposition, his engine entirely abandoned. Then, finally, he recovers enough to set his broad, wide hand on hers, snake-fast, if she doesn't remove it. All he wants is to squeeze, to let her feel the metal beneath.
To nod at the downed Aerial Healing Unit vessel in the distance. )
When it got bad, bad, bad, girlie-birdie, pretty-feathered thing, when it was bad, and you was all sad... and sick... the likes of me, we went in these, vrooom, vroom, with the pilots, with the medics, delivering... whatever was! Bones! Bags. Goodies. Wretched cures, and them's so sour, birdie, what's that? What's thaaaaaaat? Don't spit'em out. We was out on an expedition, all while Serthica had it rough, got caught in the war here, in the Sands and... ( His hands come together in a strong, sharp clap. ) Boom......... when we got back. All them dead! And then? All them waking... like nothing happened. Nothing! Nooooooooot a lick, up so quick. Like toys.
( But now, there's the edge. ) Toys that want entertaining. Need busying! Together. Or they realise... they're toys. So you give'em something! A little war. A little protest. What's the harm? What's the harm? They look mean at each other... least they're not looking in the mirror too long at themselves! Cause they're not pretty like you, birdie-bird.
no subject
Heh...? He... he... hehheheheheee... hah... hah...
( Coughing, spluttering, a madness of laughter. He seems unable or unwilling to cease, consumed by a manic disposition, his engine entirely abandoned. Then, finally, he recovers enough to set his broad, wide hand on hers, snake-fast, if she doesn't remove it. All he wants is to squeeze, to let her feel the metal beneath.
To nod at the downed Aerial Healing Unit vessel in the distance. )
When it got bad, bad, bad, girlie-birdie, pretty-feathered thing, when it was bad, and you was all sad... and sick... the likes of me, we went in these, vrooom, vroom, with the pilots, with the medics, delivering... whatever was! Bones! Bags. Goodies. Wretched cures, and them's so sour, birdie, what's that? What's thaaaaaaat? Don't spit'em out. We was out on an expedition, all while Serthica had it rough, got caught in the war here, in the Sands and... ( His hands come together in a strong, sharp clap. ) Boom......... when we got back. All them dead! And then? All them waking... like nothing happened. Nothing! Nooooooooot a lick, up so quick. Like toys.
( But now, there's the edge. ) Toys that want entertaining. Need busying! Together. Or they realise... they're toys. So you give'em something! A little war. A little protest. What's the harm? What's the harm? They look mean at each other... least they're not looking in the mirror too long at themselves! Cause they're not pretty like you, birdie-bird.