Like, yeah, the greenery blooming everywhere and causing the city to slowly descend into a tense state of semi-chaos is bad enough, but he can work with that. These time-bubbles are worse because they affect him personally, so he takes more offense to them. Each one makes him feel increasingly uneasy, his mind constantly drawn to the worry of what he might learn of his acquaintances that he doesn't want to know and -- even worse -- what of himself that he might end up revealing.
Funny how he hadn't considered the worst factor of them all: who he might be revealing any crucial information to.
So when Gen tensely stalks through another area of frozen time, casting about the city block not far from the Tribune that he'd been cutting through and pushing aside frozen pedestrians so he can better move around, he jolts to a halt the moment he spots movement up ahead. Because it sure is a figure that he can immediately recognize. ]
Dextera.
[ Gen can't help the way his voice comes a little tense, even as he calls out reflexively. (He also can't help the way his thoughts briefly return to that encounter they'd had at the masquerade. Wondering if Dextera had ultimately figured out that had been him or not. -- he hopes not. He thinks.)
And while his gaze does linger warily for a moment, he's equally quick to look away, keeping his eyes trained on their surroundings even as he slinks forward to close the distance between them. They can't get out of here without handling this situation, after all. ]
... did you notice any other movement here? Or hear anything.
[ Light footsteps, or someone flitting by his line of sight. Someone that one of them, at least, should probably recognize. ]
for DEXTERA
Like, yeah, the greenery blooming everywhere and causing the city to slowly descend into a tense state of semi-chaos is bad enough, but he can work with that. These time-bubbles are worse because they affect him personally, so he takes more offense to them. Each one makes him feel increasingly uneasy, his mind constantly drawn to the worry of what he might learn of his acquaintances that he doesn't want to know and -- even worse -- what of himself that he might end up revealing.
Funny how he hadn't considered the worst factor of them all: who he might be revealing any crucial information to.
So when Gen tensely stalks through another area of frozen time, casting about the city block not far from the Tribune that he'd been cutting through and pushing aside frozen pedestrians so he can better move around, he jolts to a halt the moment he spots movement up ahead. Because it sure is a figure that he can immediately recognize. ]
Dextera.
[ Gen can't help the way his voice comes a little tense, even as he calls out reflexively. (He also can't help the way his thoughts briefly return to that encounter they'd had at the masquerade. Wondering if Dextera had ultimately figured out that had been him or not. -- he hopes not. He thinks.)
And while his gaze does linger warily for a moment, he's equally quick to look away, keeping his eyes trained on their surroundings even as he slinks forward to close the distance between them. They can't get out of here without handling this situation, after all. ]
... did you notice any other movement here? Or hear anything.
[ Light footsteps, or someone flitting by his line of sight. Someone that one of them, at least, should probably recognize. ]