This would be a lot to process for a sober Dick, but he seems to follow well-enough not to disagree, for all that he also listens as intently as he might through a closed door, lest he miss some critical piece that connects everything together. Brow furrowed and eyes forced into focus, he holds upright with muppet intensity. Exaggerated with Effort.
He has Takes. Hot ones.
The pen disappears. Whatever important thing he’d gathered up behind his breastbone to say goes with it.
She passes him the note. He takes it, and lists forward to set his elbows on his knees to study the lines. He’s a long time looking at it, working to remember, loathe to let the subject drop while he still has it somewhat in his teeth.
“What we do is important,” he agrees, to the map. If he was going to say something wise, he can’t remember what it was. “The Venatori knew your value. They would have hunted you.”
no subject
He has Takes. Hot ones.
The pen disappears. Whatever important thing he’d gathered up behind his breastbone to say goes with it.
She passes him the note. He takes it, and lists forward to set his elbows on his knees to study the lines. He’s a long time looking at it, working to remember, loathe to let the subject drop while he still has it somewhat in his teeth.
“What we do is important,” he agrees, to the map. If he was going to say something wise, he can’t remember what it was. “The Venatori knew your value. They would have hunted you.”