[Namur isn't immediately sure how to respond to that, so he grits his teeth, lets go of Ted's foot- yes, with Ted still nearly eight feet in the air- and drops into a restful crouch, elbows on his knees.]
Cuz that's what happens t' slaves. Every slave. Every damn time. 'Less someone comes 'long an' stops it, or they manage t' escape 'fore they're dead.
[He grips his left forearm with his right hand, and if Ted's being observant, he may notice a sliver of tattoo showing below the cuff of Namur's long-sleeved tee.]
Once y' escape y' ain't really free, either, since that makes y' a criminal the world over, an' hell knows what sorta shit y' had t' pull in order t' get 'way. All cuz y' happened t' be born with gills? Whaleshit.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2016-08-20 03:38 am (UTC)Cuz that's what happens t' slaves. Every slave. Every damn time. 'Less someone comes 'long an' stops it, or they manage t' escape 'fore they're dead.
[He grips his left forearm with his right hand, and if Ted's being observant, he may notice a sliver of tattoo showing below the cuff of Namur's long-sleeved tee.]
Once y' escape y' ain't really free, either, since that makes y' a criminal the world over, an' hell knows what sorta shit y' had t' pull in order t' get 'way. All cuz y' happened t' be born with gills? Whaleshit.