That isn't actually all that rare a statement, especially when his kids are concerned, but this is different. That's like . . . not knowing the plot of a tv show episode. This is like not knowing what a tv is, or something. He knows he didn't come here. He definitely knows he didn't black out last night. But even as he takes in the unfamiliar, there's-- well. The familiar, predictably loud and assuringly bossy.
And then frightened, which definitely isn't good.]
It's me! It's me, don't-- Lin, it's--
[Him, please don't attack him with half a wine bottle. She did that once, when he'd come to bed late and she'd thought he was a burglar. It had been painful. Anyway: point is, that's him in the shadows (isn't it? Surely! Never mind that creepy scratching against the stone walls . . .).]
Are you all right? Where's the kids?
[Ah, but that scratching is getting louder. Rhythmic, like talons click, click, clicking above them . . .]
. . . oh, god.
[Nope. Nope, not today, Satan, he doesn't know what the hell that is but they're not going to find out. He glances around. There's a rock on the floor; he grabs it, like he knows what the hell to do with a rock. Bludgeon someone? Sure.]
fear;
That isn't actually all that rare a statement, especially when his kids are concerned, but this is different. That's like . . . not knowing the plot of a tv show episode. This is like not knowing what a tv is, or something. He knows he didn't come here. He definitely knows he didn't black out last night. But even as he takes in the unfamiliar, there's-- well. The familiar, predictably loud and assuringly bossy.
And then frightened, which definitely isn't good.]
It's me! It's me, don't-- Lin, it's--
[Him, please don't attack him with half a wine bottle. She did that once, when he'd come to bed late and she'd thought he was a burglar. It had been painful. Anyway: point is, that's him in the shadows (isn't it? Surely! Never mind that creepy scratching against the stone walls . . .).]
Are you all right? Where's the kids?
[Ah, but that scratching is getting louder. Rhythmic, like talons click, click, clicking above them . . .]
. . . oh, god.
[Nope. Nope, not today, Satan, he doesn't know what the hell that is but they're not going to find out. He glances around. There's a rock on the floor; he grabs it, like he knows what the hell to do with a rock. Bludgeon someone? Sure.]