[ He's wearing the right armor (or close enough - even Arcade couldn't name the exact model, but knows the make) and he's saying the right things (it's what Johnson or Judah or even Moreno might, if they found him first). But Arcade still hesitates, slowing in his frantic tracks to look up at the (somebody who shouldn't be here) stranger with more caution than trust.
His glasses try to fall down and he pushes them back up reflexively. ]
I have to find my mom.
[ It's not a whine or a plea, but a statement of fact colored with the flat neutrality of barely held-back panic. The voice is right, but the cadence of it is wrong, too much a match for the haunted look in those too sharp green eyes. ]
We were supposed to stay together.
[ His voice does break on that, just a little, because that plan has already gone wrong. He doesn't know where he lost her or when, but he knows they're separated, now. And that was the one thing he wasn't supposed to let happen. ]
no subject
His glasses try to fall down and he pushes them back up reflexively. ]
I have to find my mom.
[ It's not a whine or a plea, but a statement of fact colored with the flat neutrality of barely held-back panic. The voice is right, but the cadence of it is wrong, too much a match for the haunted look in those too sharp green eyes. ]
We were supposed to stay together.
[ His voice does break on that, just a little, because that plan has already gone wrong. He doesn't know where he lost her or when, but he knows they're separated, now. And that was the one thing he wasn't supposed to let happen. ]