Numbers' face twists into an expression of visible confusion.
"What the actual hell are you talking about--?"
He turns to look at the picture on the wall. Although the pictures of himself standing proudly were initially annoying and unnerving to look at, they've more or less faded into the background and been largely ignored. Now, they've clearly changed to have this kid in them. One picture has them posing proudly with fishing gear adorned, another at what seems to be a barbecue, and so on and so forth.
Numbers' brow creases, alarm growing in his chest. Is this some sort of weird, continual punishment of his actions last month? To put some kid in his house to spy on him and pretend he was there the whole time?
"Jesus Christ," he utters out loud, shaking his head. "These didn't use to look like this."
He turns back to look at John, his expression unreadable. He was aware that people could disappear and appear without any rhyme or reason--but he never thought it would happen to him. And definitely not with some stupid, snot-nosed kid.
Well, a kid who is apparently inhabiting someone else's body. Or something. Whatever. Arthur has told him weirder. Anyways, it seems like enough for Numbers to hold his gun more loosely at his side, clearly not intending to shoot John.
"If I knew this kid, do you think I'd have asked who you were?" he grumbles. "And believe me, I don't even fucking know what I'm doing here. I just showed up one day, same as you, and now I'm trapped here."
no subject
"What the actual hell are you talking about--?"
He turns to look at the picture on the wall. Although the pictures of himself standing proudly were initially annoying and unnerving to look at, they've more or less faded into the background and been largely ignored. Now, they've clearly changed to have this kid in them. One picture has them posing proudly with fishing gear adorned, another at what seems to be a barbecue, and so on and so forth.
Numbers' brow creases, alarm growing in his chest. Is this some sort of weird, continual punishment of his actions last month? To put some kid in his house to spy on him and pretend he was there the whole time?
"Jesus Christ," he utters out loud, shaking his head. "These didn't use to look like this."
He turns back to look at John, his expression unreadable. He was aware that people could disappear and appear without any rhyme or reason--but he never thought it would happen to him. And definitely not with some stupid, snot-nosed kid.
Well, a kid who is apparently inhabiting someone else's body. Or something. Whatever. Arthur has told him weirder. Anyways, it seems like enough for Numbers to hold his gun more loosely at his side, clearly not intending to shoot John.
"If I knew this kid, do you think I'd have asked who you were?" he grumbles. "And believe me, I don't even fucking know what I'm doing here. I just showed up one day, same as you, and now I'm trapped here."