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[dissono]

for private scenes and correspondence.
non-urgent crystal messages will be responded to by letter at his earliest convenience.

Comments

[propulsion]

[ Tony laughs. Obviously kind of a tense laugh, but it's not disingenuous, a brief smile pressing thin while he navigates his breakfast plate. Maybe he's a picky eater because he certainly is being selective, ignoring slices of ham, the half-running yolk, the slice of bread.

He does pick up the tapered rectangle of cheese, breaking pieces between his fingers. ]

Sorry, uh, gallows humour. [ Badum-chhh. ] I'm good for that, work. You know, with the right tools, or a sense of. Um, purpose, even if that purpose sucks. [ Accepts a bite of cheese. ] I had a lot of projects going at home, actually, building things. Greater good kind of stuff. Here I don't even know what the hell I'm meant to do when I do get up to speed, which. You know.

[ Then he whistles, attention steering down and aside towards the dog. It's to her that he offers out his hand flat, a couple of cheese pieces on offer. ] You break it you buy it, [ he adds, in case she gets ambitious in her appetite.

The ease to which all these words come out so hurried makes it seem like the way he normally operates, as much of a tic as Gervais' own stammer. The fragmentation, however, is more indicative of the cracks beneath the surface. ]

I miss my robots. That's probably weird. Also they can never know, they've been sassy enough as it is.