This is, Lambert thinks probably, his karmic punishment m for badgering Childermass about all his secrets all the time: being pestered by an even more persistent asshole.
“The problem, which I do not need you in any way, shape, or form to attempt to fix, is that I have just had my skeleton stripped out for a pile of metal and circuits and I don’t care to be reminded of it any time I look at myself! I absolutely don’t want to deal with anyone else reacting to it until we are off this fucking station, not floating over Winter territory or Wyld Lands where any fae could come along, and I have a fucking cigarette!”
With that brief explosion over, the Gamma’s voice cracking with strain, Lambert takes a breath and glares. Is Strange just being an obtuse moron?
“And I mean everything. The miracles, everywhere the Carnival’s been, everything that’s happened to us — are you really the same person you’ve always been? Aren’t there things that have made you want to change? And I don’t just mean getting stronger, or better. Just...” he trails off, and his shoulders slump, tired.
“I feel like I used to know you, but I don’t know what’s going on in your head anymore. Or if you want me to.” The price of a friendship at least mostly built on mutual bullshit, he supposes.
no subject
“The problem, which I do not need you in any way, shape, or form to attempt to fix, is that I have just had my skeleton stripped out for a pile of metal and circuits and I don’t care to be reminded of it any time I look at myself! I absolutely don’t want to deal with anyone else reacting to it until we are off this fucking station, not floating over Winter territory or Wyld Lands where any fae could come along, and I have a fucking cigarette!”
With that brief explosion over, the Gamma’s voice cracking with strain, Lambert takes a breath and glares. Is Strange just being an obtuse moron?
“And I mean everything. The miracles, everywhere the Carnival’s been, everything that’s happened to us — are you really the same person you’ve always been? Aren’t there things that have made you want to change? And I don’t just mean getting stronger, or better. Just...” he trails off, and his shoulders slump, tired.
“I feel like I used to know you, but I don’t know what’s going on in your head anymore. Or if you want me to.” The price of a friendship at least mostly built on mutual bullshit, he supposes.