[ It's a brave move, on Margaery's part. Says a lot about her relationship with Wash, too. Because, while their armor is similar, Maine is a hell of a lot more intimidating than his teammate. Fully armored, Maine stands at seven-foot-four — and when he looks down at her, all the blood-splattered gold visor shows is her reflection.
No armor. No weapon. Civilian, he decides. Can't place her face, but she looks friendly enough. Maybe his drugged brain decided to give him someone to read this stupid fucking sign.
Choosing to go along with it, the Freelancer grunts an affirmative and raises a hand to point at the offending sign. Then he tilts his head slightly in question, eyes still on her.
According to Maine, this is a perfectly adequate way to ask, "What is this?" ]
no subject
No armor. No weapon. Civilian, he decides. Can't place her face, but she looks friendly enough. Maybe his drugged brain decided to give him someone to read this stupid fucking sign.
Choosing to go along with it, the Freelancer grunts an affirmative and raises a hand to point at the offending sign. Then he tilts his head slightly in question, eyes still on her.
According to Maine, this is a perfectly adequate way to ask, "What is this?" ]