[That doesn't help. Doesn't make things any less strange, doesn't make things any less threatening, doesn't make things any less fucking untrustworthy, incomprehensible, wrong, or, despite surfaces, pleasamt or unthreatening.
He looks up - part of the more solid part of his consciousness has him hating himself for this degree of weakness - but still, he says out loud, weakly wavering:]
What do you want --?
[Man, if he could just enjoy this apparent straight-up fever dream, but as it is, Christ, no, he can't, arguably especially with its innocent setting. Please, just tell him when, where, and on a basis of what exact thought this is going to go to shit...]
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He looks up - part of the more solid part of his consciousness has him hating himself for this degree of weakness - but still, he says out loud, weakly wavering:]
What do you want --?
[Man, if he could just enjoy this apparent straight-up fever dream, but as it is, Christ, no, he can't, arguably especially with its innocent setting. Please, just tell him when, where, and on a basis of what exact thought this is going to go to shit...]