[No, no, Majima, he does not wish to soil your things, for the love of--
Just let him take a breath and steel himself. Right. He's fine. He stubbornly waves the kerchief away.]
Put that away. It is nothing.
[Okay, the initial shock of how, uh, strong garlic tastes to Javert is dying down, and now he just has a bloody damn massacre on his face. Exceptional.
He grabs a wad of those paper napkins they keep at the tables and starts dabbing at his face blindly. They have water glasses, right? He dips a corner of the paper napkins in the water and haphazardly wipes his cheeks.]
Damn, what the devil is in these fried sticks? [he mutters testily, understanding nothing. He wipes at his matted whiskers.] There, I can see.
How fresh off a kill do I look? On the scale of a single thrashing to a mass massacre?
no subject
Just let him take a breath and steel himself. Right. He's fine. He stubbornly waves the kerchief away.]
Put that away. It is nothing.
[Okay, the initial shock of how, uh, strong garlic tastes to Javert is dying down, and now he just has a bloody damn massacre on his face. Exceptional.
He grabs a wad of those paper napkins they keep at the tables and starts dabbing at his face blindly. They have water glasses, right? He dips a corner of the paper napkins in the water and haphazardly wipes his cheeks.]
Damn, what the devil is in these fried sticks? [he mutters testily, understanding nothing. He wipes at his matted whiskers.] There, I can see.
How fresh off a kill do I look? On the scale of a single thrashing to a mass massacre?