whyarewehere: (G)
Dexter Grif ([personal profile] whyarewehere) wrote in [community profile] legionmissions 2017-01-18 06:09 am (UTC)

"You look like shit."

It's a friendly hello, by Grif standards. He didn't get to experience the Faceless's particular brand of bodyscaping personally, but he doesn't look all that great himself. Grif's uniform is stained with blood. Some is his, some is Dipper's, some just belongs to nameless corpse monsters.

...They weren't always nameless, but he's really trying not to think about that. Or anything at all, right now.

He's carrying two bottles of water.

"Here."

Grif sets one on the side table just within York's reach, the seal already cracked. He then plunks down without ceremony on the empty bed on the side York didn't throw Delta, not realizing he's probably dodged a conversational bullet.

Grif takes a long pull of water himself, then stretches out.

"Jesus Christ."

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