[Indeed, the worst kind of bar. Firo stares sullenly at the bottles lining the shelves and wonders if it's worth it to get a drink if this isn't even real. There's only one way to reconcile John's presence--and the other oddities--with being home: the admission that he isn't actually home.
With a groan of dismay, he drops the attempt at being quiet. No need for it now.]
It just seemed felt like everything finally went back to normal.
[Another phantom door slam, this time accompanied by measured, marching footsteps on concrete.
no subject
With a groan of dismay, he drops the attempt at being quiet. No need for it now.]
It just seemed felt like everything finally went back to normal.
[Another phantom door slam, this time accompanied by measured, marching footsteps on concrete.
Well, for a relative meaning of "normal."]