If Phalanx's hand hurt more, Robin would offer to fix it. If they weren't used to hideous, debilitating injuries being a fact of everyday life, Tonic probably would have offered to fix it too. But as they are, neither men stops Phalanx from wrapping up his wounded hand rather than addressing it.
"No answer?" Says their shopkeeper, who has ducked down around a hidden corner of the internal geometry of this tent. "You don't have to say yes."
"No, thank you," Robin finally answers, "I was actually hoping you could help us find a skirt appropriate for my new friend."
Robin doesn't want to set Phalanx loose in this shop, honestly. They'll go right for the pile of blankets, tunnel into it and refuse to be parted from them. The things hung up on the frame look like coats, and bits of armor cobbled together from bits and pieces of metal and other scraps from all corners of the Underground--but none of it seems right for Phalanx.
"Mm," says the voice from just out of sight, "Something grey, I'd imagine."
no subject
"No answer?" Says their shopkeeper, who has ducked down around a hidden corner of the internal geometry of this tent. "You don't have to say yes."
"No, thank you," Robin finally answers, "I was actually hoping you could help us find a skirt appropriate for my new friend."
Robin doesn't want to set Phalanx loose in this shop, honestly. They'll go right for the pile of blankets, tunnel into it and refuse to be parted from them. The things hung up on the frame look like coats, and bits of armor cobbled together from bits and pieces of metal and other scraps from all corners of the Underground--but none of it seems right for Phalanx.
"Mm," says the voice from just out of sight, "Something grey, I'd imagine."