[ Shinji himself is...not particularly happy, either. He doesn't know what he feels, really, a convoluted mess wracking his mind and churning in his stomach. He can feel blood drying on his skin, a phantom throb of impact, and yet...nothing. No holes, no wounds, nothing.
When he had closed his eyes, that was supposed to be it. A weight pulled off his shoulders, leaving him lighter than he's felt in years, even as the cold settled in. And now...this?
Mikaela's approach goes largely unnoticed until the white registers in his peripherals, and then Shinjiro's gaze snaps up in a glare. There's not so much animosity as there is equal suspicion, but the tension in his shoulders drop gradually at the question.
Right. He does look like shit. ]
...That ain't it. [ Somebody had, yes, but nobody here. Not yet, anyway. ] Can't say I'd be surprised if someone went stir-crazy, though.
[ Compared to some, this guy doesn't really look particularly thrilled to be here either. ]
no subject
When he had closed his eyes, that was supposed to be it. A weight pulled off his shoulders, leaving him lighter than he's felt in years, even as the cold settled in. And now...this?
Mikaela's approach goes largely unnoticed until the white registers in his peripherals, and then Shinjiro's gaze snaps up in a glare. There's not so much animosity as there is equal suspicion, but the tension in his shoulders drop gradually at the question.
Right. He does look like shit. ]
...That ain't it. [ Somebody had, yes, but nobody here. Not yet, anyway. ] Can't say I'd be surprised if someone went stir-crazy, though.
[ Compared to some, this guy doesn't really look particularly thrilled to be here either. ]