you better run, boy, run, but be afraid. cry, boy, cry, don't play the game
Her raised brows have Varus offering a slightly placating look, metal hand raised in mock surrender, even if the grin on his face suggests otherwise. But there’s tasks to be done and Varus pauses to see whether anyone has ideas for what they want to do. “More cleaning for me, then.” He offers a light chuckle in response to Remi, before he’s slipping into the infirmary with a bucket and rags, preparing to clean up the smoke embedded into the walls, ceiling, and floor.
His hand stretched out to give Isla’s arm a light squeeze as he passes by, immediately getting to work with the ceiling and working his way down, pulling a ladder in and a bucket so that he might be able to scrub at the soot left behind. And each time the water turns black, he drifts outside to pour it out and get fresh water, focusing on using his metal arm the most to keep it from feeling the edge of getting worn out. It is the newest part of him, after all.
Varus picks cleaning! He grabs a ladder, bucket, and some cloths and starts with the ceiling and works his way down.
His hand stretched out to give Isla’s arm a light squeeze as he passes by, immediately getting to work with the ceiling and working his way down, pulling a ladder in and a bucket so that he might be able to scrub at the soot left behind. And each time the water turns black, he drifts outside to pour it out and get fresh water, focusing on using his metal arm the most to keep it from feeling the edge of getting worn out. It is the newest part of him, after all.
Varus picks cleaning! He grabs a ladder, bucket, and some cloths and starts with the ceiling and works his way down.
gravity holds me d o w n
VARUS
