"A bit," says Jack. He blasts another cone of frost at the machinery, from a hand covered in gore and icicles. The liquid inside the little pipes is practically crystallised.
"It's... ow."
He jumps as a shorted bit of wiring zaps his hand. Then he deftly swaps it with another piece and -- damnit, isn't there anything whole in here to work with? C'mon.
A few industrious seconds crawl past.
"...slow," he admits, finishing his sentence at last.
no subject
"A bit," says Jack. He blasts another cone of frost at the machinery, from a hand covered in gore and icicles. The liquid inside the little pipes is practically crystallised.
"It's... ow."
He jumps as a shorted bit of wiring zaps his hand. Then he deftly swaps it with another piece and -- damnit, isn't there anything whole in here to work with? C'mon.
A few industrious seconds crawl past.
"...slow," he admits, finishing his sentence at last.