[ Was he a fucking idiot? Mitchell maybe could have done something, anything to get them someplace the cameras didn't look, if he hadn't revealed himself to be an import so blatantly. He could feel the hairs at the back of his neck itching, tingling, reminding him that they were being watched. Well, not they. He was being fucking watched.
Always.
He grunted in surprise, affecting wide eyes and a cautious stare. ]
I'm fine, thanks for the assist.
[ He was hovering, already backing up, though. He couldn't, wouldn't stay in this spot. He was going to be caught, if he weren't careful. He'd already straightened, a few inches higher than he ever was, thanks to the heels of his shoes. They had been constructed just to make another detail off. The more that he wasn't like Mitchell Hundred, the better. He was thankful for it now.
His eyes blinked. Still without inflection, a softer voice, familiar only to those who'd spoken with Adrian Maskin, he grimaced. ]
no subject
Always.
He grunted in surprise, affecting wide eyes and a cautious stare. ]
I'm fine, thanks for the assist.
[ He was hovering, already backing up, though. He couldn't, wouldn't stay in this spot. He was going to be caught, if he weren't careful. He'd already straightened, a few inches higher than he ever was, thanks to the heels of his shoes. They had been constructed just to make another detail off. The more that he wasn't like Mitchell Hundred, the better. He was thankful for it now.
His eyes blinked. Still without inflection, a softer voice, familiar only to those who'd spoken with Adrian Maskin, he grimaced. ]
You alright?