[Vincent frowns when the laughter bursts from Roche so loudly that he’s sure the whole building hears it. What follows is not something he’s certain sure he understands; something about motorcycles, blazing a path ahead — a challenge?
Vincent doesn’t even own a bicycle, much less a motorcycle. There’s no need to be mobile when you spend 90% of your time indoors, holed up in one’s own apartment, and therefore he considers the whole spiel inane.
Does this man ever shut up? It wouldn’t seem so.]
…
[Vincent closes the door in Roche’s face, locks it, and turns to face Cloud.]
He’s pleasant.
[Sarcasm, dry as a desert and just as unrepentant.]
no subject
Vincent doesn’t even own a bicycle, much less a motorcycle. There’s no need to be mobile when you spend 90% of your time indoors, holed up in one’s own apartment, and therefore he considers the whole spiel inane.
Does this man ever shut up? It wouldn’t seem so.]
…
[Vincent closes the door in Roche’s face, locks it, and turns to face Cloud.]
He’s pleasant.
[Sarcasm, dry as a desert and just as unrepentant.]