Don't just eat any food you come across. Or drink the drinks. Or smoke the smokables. Etc. You never know what could kill or curse you. This is especially the case with temptations left unattended.
The coconut cocktail might as well have a little note that says "DRINK ME" on it.
Jefferson squints as he looks up at the clear and sunny sky. Well, at least there's an actual sky again. Big improvement over the creepy blank space in the puzzle-tree world. With a weary sigh-- really, he'd like to stop being yanked this way and that and just get sent back to his hat-- Jefferson flops onto the hammock and stretches out. He'll work on his escape in a bit.
"You are tired?" a solicitous voice croaks. A slender, bandaged figure, no flesh whatsoever revealed beneath his bandages, leans over the hammock, examining him with grave, dark eyes and an expression approximating concern.
Oh gods, warn a guy before looming over him with your bandaged mummy face! Jefferson's eyes widen for a moment, but he thankfully manages not to make a total fool of himself as he recovers from the slight surprise.
"No..." he admits, imbuing that one word with caution and uncertainty. He moves to sit up, peering at the bandaged man. "It just seemed like the thing to do when there's a hammock and a sunny day."
"It is a thing to do," the figure admits. "Not the only thing, but a common one. To sit, and ponder questions before braving the heat of the day..." his voice sounds wistful.
The wistfulness catches Jefferson's attention. He raises his brows, his expression inquisitive. "Something you don't get to do these days?" Oh, and, he has to ask: "Who are you?"
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Don't just eat any food you come across. Or drink the drinks. Or smoke the smokables. Etc. You never know what could kill or curse you. This is especially the case with temptations left unattended.
The coconut cocktail might as well have a little note that says "DRINK ME" on it.
Jefferson squints as he looks up at the clear and sunny sky. Well, at least there's an actual sky again. Big improvement over the creepy blank space in the puzzle-tree world. With a weary sigh-- really, he'd like to stop being yanked this way and that and just get sent back to his hat-- Jefferson flops onto the hammock and stretches out. He'll work on his escape in a bit.
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"No..." he admits, imbuing that one word with caution and uncertainty. He moves to sit up, peering at the bandaged man. "It just seemed like the thing to do when there's a hammock and a sunny day."
no subject
no subject