[size=9pt]/npppp i took just as long rip
Moon raises one brow. One side of his lips tilt. 'It's just not the whole answer.' Very Hollywood. Though he doubted Gabriel would know what that meant. Still, the words sparked a hint of humor in Moon, despite the situation. "Oh, he's mysterious. Where's the cameras, Mr. Bond? You got your script hidden under that cape?" He grins, but he's distracted and he moves his side against the wall slightly. The exposed skin grates against the brick and he sucks in sharply through his teeth. For a moment, his shoulder sets on fire, and he clamps his jaw shut tight, but he breathes in and out in steadily and slowly, it fades. He's back to his nonchalance, lightning fast. "It's fine, man. Keep the other half of the answer. I get it; I wouldn't wanna' get castrated at the hands of those Jack Sparrow scum, either. Saving your own ass comes first, right?"
Moon manages to find some poppy seeds in the basket. The sight of them comes as such a relief, he feels weak in the knees. It's possible he's slightly too reliant on the sleep-inducing seeds. It's possible that, on more than one occasion, he'd abused them, as some other Medics would say, for the sake of some shut-eye. But now, here, he knows he needs them. He knocks them back with some water, feeling the heat of his tongue starved off with the rush of the freezing liquid. "A bath?" He frowns, once the seeds have been swallowed. "Yeah, sure. Just direct me to the fuckin' Spa Resort, Feathers. Hey, maybe you can get your talons painted and I can get my claws filed, while we're at it." His grin has disappeared. Instead, he stares the hybrid down, borderline defensive. He knows he needs a fucking bath. Hell, it's not as if he enjoys sitting, leaking crimson from parts of his body he'd never even known existed, before. He doesn't need the criticism, and his disgruntlement shows. His next words are just as gruff, though, perhaps, not as resentful. "I don't hate you. Don't be dramatic. Do whatever you need to do. Don't blame you for getting sick of all that Star talk, anyway."
Moon raises one brow. One side of his lips tilt. 'It's just not the whole answer.' Very Hollywood. Though he doubted Gabriel would know what that meant. Still, the words sparked a hint of humor in Moon, despite the situation. "Oh, he's mysterious. Where's the cameras, Mr. Bond? You got your script hidden under that cape?" He grins, but he's distracted and he moves his side against the wall slightly. The exposed skin grates against the brick and he sucks in sharply through his teeth. For a moment, his shoulder sets on fire, and he clamps his jaw shut tight, but he breathes in and out in steadily and slowly, it fades. He's back to his nonchalance, lightning fast. "It's fine, man. Keep the other half of the answer. I get it; I wouldn't wanna' get castrated at the hands of those Jack Sparrow scum, either. Saving your own ass comes first, right?"
Moon manages to find some poppy seeds in the basket. The sight of them comes as such a relief, he feels weak in the knees. It's possible he's slightly too reliant on the sleep-inducing seeds. It's possible that, on more than one occasion, he'd abused them, as some other Medics would say, for the sake of some shut-eye. But now, here, he knows he needs them. He knocks them back with some water, feeling the heat of his tongue starved off with the rush of the freezing liquid. "A bath?" He frowns, once the seeds have been swallowed. "Yeah, sure. Just direct me to the fuckin' Spa Resort, Feathers. Hey, maybe you can get your talons painted and I can get my claws filed, while we're at it." His grin has disappeared. Instead, he stares the hybrid down, borderline defensive. He knows he needs a fucking bath. Hell, it's not as if he enjoys sitting, leaking crimson from parts of his body he'd never even known existed, before. He doesn't need the criticism, and his disgruntlement shows. His next words are just as gruff, though, perhaps, not as resentful. "I don't hate you. Don't be dramatic. Do whatever you need to do. Don't blame you for getting sick of all that Star talk, anyway."
[align=center][div style="width: 500px; height: auto; text-align: center; font-family: ; font-size: 9pt; color: COLOR; letter-spacing: -.5px;"][i][b]and die like a hero going home.[glow=black,2,300]