[The man's eyes are stretched wide in his pale face as he watches the spectacle. The tentacles lash and grasp, but seem to be, mercifully, at the limit of their reach. He realizes he isn't breathing; he remedies that, blinking twice rapidly.]
Mr. Winters?
[He defaults to what's more formal, then lies.]
I'm Lazarus Sauveterre, and I appreciate your reflexes.
no subject
Mr. Winters?
[He defaults to what's more formal, then lies.]
I'm Lazarus Sauveterre, and I appreciate your reflexes.