[ At this, Majima let out a brief breath of air. It wasn't exactly a laugh -- their situation was a little too hairy for that, yet. More like a kind of recognition. He didn't much trust Deerington on general principle, either. ]
That's somethin' I can agree with.
[ And so he turned toward the nearest door, and opened it inwards. Almost immediately, the savory smell of broth hit him... as well as the scent of fresh gunpowder. The interior of the room looked almost like the decor in other areas of the dollhouse: tasteful, classy. But there were splashes of fluorescent blue on the furniture, the floors, the walls.
If it had been a real memory, and not one that he'd pieced together secondhand, perhaps it might have been more graphic. As it was, Majima stilled... and then forced himself to walk in. ]
no subject
That's somethin' I can agree with.
[ And so he turned toward the nearest door, and opened it inwards. Almost immediately, the savory smell of broth hit him... as well as the scent of fresh gunpowder. The interior of the room looked almost like the decor in other areas of the dollhouse: tasteful, classy. But there were splashes of fluorescent blue on the furniture, the floors, the walls.
If it had been a real memory, and not one that he'd pieced together secondhand, perhaps it might have been more graphic. As it was, Majima stilled... and then forced himself to walk in. ]
I guess the paint job's supposed to be blood...