Quoted By:
Well, you repeat as you scour your limited vocabulary for the proper words to describe your, uh… <span class="mu-i">now thinks</span>... you’re just… if you had to put your finger on it…
NRGH! Downing the rest of your beer and crunching the can in your hand with an exasperated roar, you place its remains on the bright yellow coffee table in front of you as Talbot cracks and hands you a fresh beer. Thanks, you mumble.
With a steading breath, you start by saying that, well, you’re <span class="mu-s">CONFUSED</span>, mostly! Totally, completely, constantly <span class="mu-s">CONFUSED!</span>
“I hear that.” Nods your fellow janitor as he shoots you a sympathetic glance while sipping his beer.
Like, taking down those <span class="mu-r">LIEUTENANTS</span> and smashing heads? <span class="mu-i">That’s</span> easy, you snarl! But everything else–like those murdered ex-cult members? That traitor or whatever at Good Boy? Boris and his <span class="mu-i">stupid</span> ‘<span class="mu-b">CHOSEN ONE MASK?</span> And that doesn’t even begin to cover why a dog bone company has a <span class="mu-g">TOP SECRET RESEARCH LAB</span> in the woods and enough military hardware to invade a small country!
“One thing’s been bothering me too:” Talbot adds, matching your frown with one of his own, “how the hell did some old-ass wizard even get to <span class="mu-g">CLEARWATER</span> anyways? Like, why not somewhere <span class="mu-i">bigger</span> or <span class="mu-i">cooler?</span>”
You don’t appreciate him interrupting you, but yea, that’s a good point too! You get that a skeleton would form at Good Boy because of all the bones and stuff, but still–that’s a big coinpudence!
“So uh…” Grunts Talbot, “Got any… got any ideas?”
You respond by giving him an irritated glare! No, <span class="mu-i">stupid</span>, that’s the whole point! You’re not… you don’t know how to properly figure out the things in some… some times, okay?!
“I mean, I get i-”
You’re not <span class="mu-i">SMART</span> like Syb, you continue with growing anger, you’re not <span class="mu-i">COOL-HEADED</span> like Mitz, and you’re just… you’re <span class="mu-i">tired</span> of not knowing stuff! It <span class="mu-s">SUCKS!</span>
It takes you a moment to realize you’re out of breath. Catching yourself, it takes you <span class="mu-i">another</span> moment to feel the large, but gentle hand trying to get away with patting you on the shoulder without being weird about it! Sensing he’s been detected, Talbot immediately retracts his hand and messily clears his throat!
“Y-yea, well uh…” He stammers, sipping his beer to space things out a little, “you… you don’t gotta be like those guys, Stan.”
Oh <span class="mu-i">yea</span>? Why’s <span class="mu-i">that</span>, huh?
“Well I mean…” Talbot continues, clearly sensing some kind of minefield reflected in your scowling face, “You… you’re the <span class="mu-i">leader</span>, right?”
Right, you scoff, you’re the big, brave leader of the bunch–just making stupid choices while everyone else comes up with them for you!
“Yea, but-”
But <span class="mu-i">WHAT, HUH</span>!?
>CONTD.
