[The mental image he gets from that is one of Soy and Bardo sitting around gossiping about him while he works, and it's half something straight out of Seventeen magazine and half some secret KGB shit. His lips thin and he grabs his bike without realizing, quietly watching - almost pensive except for the traces of wariness - as the bottle rolls, as Soysauce grabs it.
When Soysauce speaks again. And yeah, kind of judging you, man, not because you're drunk but because he can.]
no subject
When Soysauce speaks again. And yeah, kind of judging you, man, not because you're drunk but because he can.]
Still think you're a pain in the ass.