Etraya: Inbox

[bootyshortsforoldmen]

TEXT • VOICE • VIDEO • ACTION
USERNAME: HANK

Hank here. I probably don’t give a rat’s ass what you have to say. Leave me alone. How the hell do I get this damn thing to stop rec — [BEEP]

Comments

[instabilitatem]

[Connor makes a second mental note to check liquor stock in the apartment. But all of it has him oddly tired. Perhaps it's the whole show he put on at dinner that has him feeling just a bit off, a bit wiped out.]

Free to make mistakes?

[bootyshortsforoldmen]

Of course. Can’t fault you that, can I?

[Especially seeing how Hank makes mistakes regularly. Constantly.

...Daily.]

Nobody’s expecting you to be perfect, Connor.

[instabilitatem]

I am meant to execute at a level near perfection.

[Although now that he's a deviant, he will likely have more errors.]

[bootyshortsforoldmen]

Still not expecting perfection here, Connor. ‘Specially not from me.

[Hank wipes his hands on his shirt before heading toward the couch. Chin tilted up as he looks down at Connor.]

How’re you feeling?

[instabilitatem]

[Connor's expression softens. Maybe he could try to relate more to people by looking for less perfection in himself.]

I'm feeling better, though I should run a diagnostic to determine if there is any damage.

How has it been five days (GASPS) time is unreal

[bootyshortsforoldmen]

(ooc: Also totally good with focusing on zombie thread, and/or another game thread whenever the thirst arises. 💖)

—

You do that. [Hank gives him another curious look. Lips pursed.] Run your diagnostic thingy. And you’d tell me if something were wrong, yeah?

[Voice softer, then:] Glad you’re feeling better, Connor. Really.

we've been having too much fun in zombieland

[instabilitatem]

[Connor looks up at Hank and is about to answer when Hank adds the most vulnerable part of his reply.]

Thank you for indulging me, Hank.