[You know what's fun? A healthy case of paranoia, a house full of dolls, and little noises scampering around. And maybe dolls aren't puppets, but they're puppet-adjacent, Davesprite would argue, and that's more than enough with everything else going on. So while Cassel is free to do what he will, he's wedged himself in a corner where nothing can get behind his back and buried his visual attention in his tablet. He's good at ignoring the weird shit around him when he wants to. Speaking of which, hallucinations do make an easy way to dismiss his surroundings. Cassel making note of them only gets a vague grunt of acknowledgement, and under the circumstances one could be forgiven for thinking Davesprite is someone quiet and unpersonable.]
[It's not until the 'knock it off' that he bothers to look up, first to Cassel, and then—]
Jesus fucking Christ!
[He jolts up so hard and fast he smacks himself back into the wall. He makes a birdlike squawk at the impact, but he keeps himself right there anyway.]
action; this is going to go so well
[It's not until the 'knock it off' that he bothers to look up, first to Cassel, and then—]
Jesus fucking Christ!
[He jolts up so hard and fast he smacks himself back into the wall. He makes a birdlike squawk at the impact, but he keeps himself right there anyway.]
When did that get there?