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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Feb 16, 2011 11:40:09 GMT -5
"You'd think so, until the enemy starts doing it, too," Emirate Xaaron cautions Breakaway. "Good cycle, both of you, Breakaway, Mayday."
He watches as the stylus flies down the hallway, and he tries to place a hand on Perceptor's forearm, saying softly, "Perceptor. You're going to take a break and work on something else. Clear out your buffers. Come back to the problem fresh."
OOC: Perhaps a fade soon? We already show it working better-ish later on, anyway.
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Post by Perceptor on Feb 16, 2011 12:15:01 GMT -5
The look Perceptor fixes upon Xaaron at that is positively... sulky. As petulant as a spoiled child, almost, as he drops his gaze to Xaaron's hand upon his own arm. His own gilt arm.
Petulance gives way to confusion. "I am still wearing your paint," he observes blankly.
ooc: sounds good to me. whenever you'd like.
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Feb 16, 2011 14:59:37 GMT -5
Emirate Xaaron replies gently, without accusation or recrimination, "Yes. You are. Repaint yourself and come back to yourself, Perceptor."
He wonders when Perceptor last defragmented, but he doesn't say as much.
OOC: On your post?
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Post by Perceptor on Feb 16, 2011 21:12:41 GMT -5
Perceptor's gaze slides from his arm, to Xaaron's, and back up to Xaaron's face. Xarron, who has taken time to get himself repainted by now. Save for Xaaron's height, and Perceptor's scope, they rather could pass for one another at the moment, at least at a casual glance. "Well, that's awkward."
He nods absently and tucks his datapad back into subspace. "Yes, that is probably wise," he replies, and then nearly stumbles with the force of the yawn that almost seems to attack him out of nowhere. "And, perhaps, a nap..."
ooc: fade out!
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