the baffled king composing hallelujah
Ronin's smile falters for just a second, because he doesn't actually know how the heck people are meant to get in touch with them, only that it's something that seems important. "That's a work in progress," he says sheepishly. "We're gonna figure something out before we get going." He wouldn't miss his best friend's wedding party for the damned world.
Then they're talking about kids and Mateo and how Sunjata is apparently useless with children, and he reaches across to ruffle the Flood's hair, apparently unworried about disturbing his son. Or maybe he's just more trusting of Jata than the man feels about himself. "Babies cry," he points out, smirking as the infant wiggles and stirs. "Our job's to figure out what they're crying about."
Slowly, the babe opens his eyes, unfocused as he opens his mouth in a mighty yawn. No wailing yet, luckily.
Then they're talking about kids and Mateo and how Sunjata is apparently useless with children, and he reaches across to ruffle the Flood's hair, apparently unworried about disturbing his son. Or maybe he's just more trusting of Jata than the man feels about himself. "Babies cry," he points out, smirking as the infant wiggles and stirs. "Our job's to figure out what they're crying about."
Slowly, the babe opens his eyes, unfocused as he opens his mouth in a mighty yawn. No wailing yet, luckily.
