God Himself stands in the doorway, looming tall in— well, not divine fury, but certainly divine exasperation. His hair is sticking up funny from how many times he's run a hand through it, tonight. A paper sandworm tooth is pinned to his lapel like a brooch. He's still holding a knockoff Smirnoff Ice. ]
Of course. [ This he murmurs to himself, wry. ] Would you boys mind relocating?
[ He makes eye contact with Lazarus, and there is not a speck of real surprise or apology in him. ]
no subject
God Himself stands in the doorway, looming tall in— well, not divine fury, but certainly divine exasperation. His hair is sticking up funny from how many times he's run a hand through it, tonight. A paper sandworm tooth is pinned to his lapel like a brooch. He's still holding a knockoff Smirnoff Ice. ]
Of course. [ This he murmurs to himself, wry. ] Would you boys mind relocating?
[ He makes eye contact with Lazarus, and there is not a speck of real surprise or apology in him. ]