[ Communication is something that Maine's still actively figuring out. Used to be that he could answer questions with a gruff word or two when body language alone was insufficient. Nine bullets to the neck eliminated that option very recently — the blood on his armor is courtesy of that injury.
So far, typing his responses is the only effective method of "speaking" that Maine's found. And so far, he fucking hates it.
To the first question, Maine just shrugs. No one told him he could walk in here. No one told him he couldn't, either. So, here he is. Maybe he should type out an apology, but he ... doesn't.
(Sorry about your life, Taako.)
To the next question — well, several questions — Maine lets out a little huff that sounds ... weirdly inhuman, thanks to his helmet and the ruin that is his throat. He's not a baby, dammit. (And that's the second time he's been called one today. What the hell!) But then he nods: yes, he's new to this circus. ]
no subject
So far, typing his responses is the only effective method of "speaking" that Maine's found. And so far, he fucking hates it.
To the first question, Maine just shrugs. No one told him he could walk in here. No one told him he couldn't, either. So, here he is. Maybe he should type out an apology, but he ... doesn't.
(Sorry about your life, Taako.)
To the next question — well, several questions — Maine lets out a little huff that sounds ... weirdly inhuman, thanks to his helmet and the ruin that is his throat. He's not a baby, dammit. (And that's the second time he's been called one today. What the hell!) But then he nods: yes, he's new to this circus. ]