it takes Abel's already painfully inadequate, fog-muddled brain a few mortifyingly embarrassing seconds to chug into gear, but-- he finally does, taking a less than coordinated small step to steady his balance as he does. it's a bit like a man snapping himself out of a daydream; the priest is blinking, mouth working for a second in bewilderment. ]
--O-oh, I... ah.
[ what is he even going to say?? what was he doing, just now? (he knows exactly what he was doing, hence the vaguely awkward shifting of his posture and slow creep of some kind of heat in his face, oh my god.) ]
--I'm so sorry, I... my head isn't entirely together, and you were-- [ EARS,
...he clears his throat, rubbing at his face to try and clear the cobwebs. stop thinking about the ears, Nightroad, what is wrong with you-- ] --are-- um, are you alright...?
[ because before Abel can even pull together what in God's name is happening, he's become acutely aware that this man is... uh, lacking in clothing and looking vaguely unwell, though Abel sees no immediate sign of injury. Ernesto appears just as lost as Abel feels, inwardly. let's not even acknowledge the eerie, distinctly unnerving sight of others trapped in crystalline prisons like they're eggs from some Alien movie,
so, dog-person-buddy, you... you okay there..... ]
this is how i express my affections. pls accept 😌
it takes Abel's already painfully inadequate, fog-muddled brain a few mortifyingly embarrassing seconds to chug into gear, but-- he finally does, taking a less than coordinated small step to steady his balance as he does. it's a bit like a man snapping himself out of a daydream; the priest is blinking, mouth working for a second in bewilderment. ]
--O-oh, I... ah.
[ what is he even going to say?? what was he doing, just now? (he knows exactly what he was doing, hence the vaguely awkward shifting of his posture and slow creep of some kind of heat in his face, oh my god.) ]
--I'm so sorry, I... my head isn't entirely together, and you were-- [ EARS,
...he clears his throat, rubbing at his face to try and clear the cobwebs. stop thinking about the ears, Nightroad, what is wrong with you-- ] --are-- um, are you alright...?
[ because before Abel can even pull together what in God's name is happening, he's become acutely aware that this man is... uh, lacking in clothing and looking vaguely unwell, though Abel sees no immediate sign of injury. Ernesto appears just as lost as Abel feels, inwardly. let's not even acknowledge the eerie, distinctly unnerving sight of others trapped in crystalline prisons like they're eggs from some Alien movie,
so, dog-person-buddy, you... you okay there..... ]