Dirk, we cannot simply kill ourselves every time we are faced with an inconvenience.
He huffs the short not-really-a-laugh that usually passes for the rare phenomenon of laughter on his part, but instead of stopping there, he wheezes, hugffs again, and it turns into a kind of growing chuckle. Albeit one that sounds somewhat deranged.
"Hahahaha.... why not, it usually works." Half defeatist complaint, half dark humour, he lets the corner of his mouth twitch upward sharply before the joke stops being funny and his shoulders slump against the futon where he'd propped himself.
"Whatever, man." He can't win this one because he can't even leave it. He has no argument except what should be to both of them the obvious. He viscerally dreads the 'inconvenience' that Emet is asking him to suffer being, knows the prolonged misery of the ordeal will take its toll out on both of them, knows on a gut level that dying would be salvageable in a way convalscence isn't. But Emet is determined, and he has no words to convince him when he's like this, and he's in a lot of pain, and, and, and.
And so he gives up. It's Emet's call. His head drops, his chin mostly touching his chest. He might as well have no bones except the one he broke.
"Whatever it is we're doing, let's just get it over with."
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Dirk, we cannot simply kill ourselves every time we are faced with an inconvenience.He huffs the short not-really-a-laugh that usually passes for the rare phenomenon of laughter on his part, but instead of stopping there, he wheezes, hugffs again, and it turns into a kind of growing chuckle. Albeit one that sounds somewhat deranged.
"Hahahaha.... why not, it usually works." Half defeatist complaint, half dark humour, he lets the corner of his mouth twitch upward sharply before the joke stops being funny and his shoulders slump against the futon where he'd propped himself.
"Whatever, man." He can't win this one because he can't even leave it. He has no argument except what should be to both of them the obvious. He viscerally dreads the 'inconvenience' that Emet is asking him to suffer being, knows the prolonged misery of the ordeal will take its toll out on both of them, knows on a gut level that dying would be salvageable in a way convalscence isn't. But Emet is determined, and he has no words to convince him when he's like this, and he's in a lot of pain, and, and, and.
And so he gives up. It's Emet's call. His head drops, his chin mostly touching his chest. He might as well have no bones except the one he broke.
"Whatever it is we're doing, let's just get it over with."