[the tone's not missed, even if a verbal scowl backs it up. in response, Hinata hums deep in his throat--- coughs, after, which dissolves quickly into an airless, wheezing laugh.]
[still a laugh, though. for some reason, the exchange struck him as hilarious. maybe because they were in the midst of medical; maybe because he'd just finished spreading an imaginary relationship around the ship; probably because catching something that sounded close to sincere affection from Jean Kirstein was just out of place enough to inspire it.]
[whatever. the ginger doesn't think much about it; it peters out quickly, after all.]
[ It's a laugh, just barely. Short and airless. Jean's expression settles back to neutral, letting his blackglass fall to the sheets without reading the latest notif (it's bound to be something about his nonexistent love life anyway).
How anyone could laugh at a time like this is beyond him. It doesn't irritate him, but it's—surprising
Jean sits up a smidge straighter. He's pretty sure his brain's melted by fever, swirling around like a slush in his skull at the movement, but he's no worse for wear than anyone else.
[putting mind to more than text on a screen seems to have taken the best out of him-- with a sigh chasing the laughter, he settles back into his cot, eyes slipping shut and blackglass held just barely aloft. his assessment remarked upon his lack of forethought; yet in this very moment, living primarily in the present gave him an edge. sure, it felt like death in his veins, but feeling at all meant the end had yet to come.]
[and honestly? after all the insanity they'd gone through? continued survival was good enough.]
[it made for a strange shift in consciously thought of priorities - something hardened outside of empathy, but did up adaptability. thus,]
Mnn, my stomach feels like it. All wrkkghk.
[the last bit mumbled.]
You sound worse, though.
[not actually. they were about the same - but, hey, right back at you.]
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w o w I have no idea what you have to say neigh to
[still a laugh, though. for some reason, the exchange struck him as hilarious. maybe because they were in the midst of medical; maybe because he'd just finished spreading an imaginary relationship around the ship; probably because catching something that sounded close to sincere affection from Jean Kirstein was just out of place enough to inspire it.]
[whatever. the ginger doesn't think much about it; it peters out quickly, after all.]
throws you into a blender
How anyone could laugh at a time like this is beyond him. It doesn't irritate him, but it's—surprising
Jean sits up a smidge straighter. He's pretty sure his brain's melted by fever, swirling around like a slush in his skull at the movement, but he's no worse for wear than anyone else.
Hinata earns a puffy-eyed stare and a gruff, ]
You sound like shit.
[ Are you okay? ]
shreds metal
[and honestly? after all the insanity they'd gone through? continued survival was good enough.]
[it made for a strange shift in consciously thought of priorities - something hardened outside of empathy, but did up adaptability. thus,]
Mnn, my stomach feels like it. All wrkkghk.
[the last bit mumbled.]
You sound worse, though.
[not actually. they were about the same - but, hey, right back at you.]