It is very loud. John recoils with a huff of surprise, which catches into a slightly less dignified noise once he's been smacked on the knee and foot by ancient hard-backed tomes. They hit the ground with a clatter, accusatorily loud in the great abandoned building.
It echoes. Once the sound dies— after just enough pause that it might be reluctant, or might be mocking— John splays his hands in the universal, and perhaps unconvincing, gesture of I won't hurt you. ]
Fair enough.
[ He's standing in a pile of books, now. He doesn't look smug: if anything, there is a grim and tired set to his eyes. An echo of the man on the beach. ]
no subject
It is very loud. John recoils with a huff of surprise, which catches into a slightly less dignified noise once he's been smacked on the knee and foot by ancient hard-backed tomes. They hit the ground with a clatter, accusatorily loud in the great abandoned building.
It echoes. Once the sound dies— after just enough pause that it might be reluctant, or might be mocking— John splays his hands in the universal, and perhaps unconvincing, gesture of I won't hurt you. ]
Fair enough.
[ He's standing in a pile of books, now. He doesn't look smug: if anything, there is a grim and tired set to his eyes. An echo of the man on the beach. ]