Arthur falls and John follows, scrambling to get his leg over him and get on top.
He should really stand, but - it would take too long to untangle from the mess of yellow robes, yes. He bunches his cloth-wrapped fists in Arthur's shirt.
"Listen to me, Arthur!" he says-
But he stops when the other voice cuts in.
Crichton finds a man draped in yellow robes over top tighter-fit black robes, wrapped tight up to his head. The pale mask, with its rough cut jaw and brow, sits askew on his face. While there are eyes visible through the eyeholes of the mask, behind the askew sides of it there is only an absent void where a face should be.
my god it's crichton with the chair
He should really stand, but - it would take too long to untangle from the mess of yellow robes, yes. He bunches his cloth-wrapped fists in Arthur's shirt.
"Listen to me, Arthur!" he says-
But he stops when the other voice cuts in.
Crichton finds a man draped in yellow robes over top tighter-fit black robes, wrapped tight up to his head. The pale mask, with its rough cut jaw and brow, sits askew on his face. While there are eyes visible through the eyeholes of the mask, behind the askew sides of it there is only an absent void where a face should be.
"Who the fuck is that?" John says.