"Mental breakdowns normally aren't okay, Princess." Garrot's words are monotone, almost dead, as he looses a sigh that causes his posture to just slump. As he eases into that shift, his hands retreat from his medkit with a syringe, a vial, and an elastic band. That's three things, and he only has two hands!
"Fuck!" A second, whimpering Garrot voice whines, like a kicked animal. Even under normal circumstances, it takes effort for him to keep his clones from speaking their mind about everything. But now? No way in hell. So the second Garrot that appears takes the elastic band and quickly ties it around the main body's arm.
"I think I do need to throw up and fuck there isn't even a trash can so where can I throw up and TEN wherecanIthrowup?!" While that breakdown-in-miniature unfolds, the main Garrot calmly fills the syringe with whatever's in that vial. With the ease precision of someone who spent a portion of his life recreationally ingesting drugs via the bloodstream, he sticks the syringe right into a vein and shoots up. Then suddenly, before the clone can escalate, it disappears in that typical cloud of golden-bronze dust. Dodging emotions is easier when a clone can experience them for you, take a little off the top.
"That was a military-grade sedative. It'll take a minute to circulate." Despite that, there's a bit of a hurried tone in Garrot's voice, because he's not quite sure when that adrenaline will run out! "I need somewhere quiet and empty." But then he clambers awkwardly to his feet, because it's possible he shouldn't be walking right now.
"Definitely somewhere I can vomit." Someone should absolutely keep him from wandering off on his own because he's sure as hell about to. Can't rely on none of these godsdamned whippersnappers to know when to help their godsdamned elders...
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"Fuck!" A second, whimpering Garrot voice whines, like a kicked animal. Even under normal circumstances, it takes effort for him to keep his clones from speaking their mind about everything. But now? No way in hell. So the second Garrot that appears takes the elastic band and quickly ties it around the main body's arm.
"I think I do need to throw up and fuck there isn't even a trash can so where can I throw up and TEN wherecanIthrowup?!" While that breakdown-in-miniature unfolds, the main Garrot calmly fills the syringe with whatever's in that vial. With the ease precision of someone who spent a portion of his life recreationally ingesting drugs via the bloodstream, he sticks the syringe right into a vein and shoots up. Then suddenly, before the clone can escalate, it disappears in that typical cloud of golden-bronze dust. Dodging emotions is easier when a clone can experience them for you, take a little off the top.
"That was a military-grade sedative. It'll take a minute to circulate." Despite that, there's a bit of a hurried tone in Garrot's voice, because he's not quite sure when that adrenaline will run out! "I need somewhere quiet and empty." But then he clambers awkwardly to his feet, because it's possible he shouldn't be walking right now.
"Definitely somewhere I can vomit." Someone should absolutely keep him from wandering off on his own because he's sure as hell about to. Can't rely on none of these godsdamned whippersnappers to know when to help their godsdamned elders...