With slightly more of a filter on Deacon's part, this would have elicited nothing more than a boring and mildly annoyed lecture about how nobody asks for these weird mutations (even if Danse had fairly deliberately brought these ones on himself, because it seemed to be making other people more efficient, and because he was tired of making his whole truck smell like wet dog in the rain) and how they'll happen to him too whether he wants them to or not, so on and so forth, all conducted while getting out of the middle of the lake to someplace safer.
But this does not happen, because the characterization of anything about his usual self as good boy is making Danse turn salmon-pink all the way down to his scales and his eyes flash as bright and robotically yellow as any Gen 2 in existence, equal parts mortified and offended and also warm enough to heat the surrounding water by half a degree. The pat to his shoulder does not help. At all.
He lets go of Deacon with a motion that he will deny counts as a shove, but is definitely more of a shove than it would have been before Deacon said any of that, and dives back below the surface, because he can. There must be another entrance to the plant somewhere, and he wants to find it, and Deacon can get himself eaten by a lurking eel or something.
After a moment, though, when he grudgingly considers the kind of threats this place might hold, and the fact that neither of them now has a gun that isn't soaked, he sighs in a frustrated stream of bubbles and pops back up a short distance away.
"I'm assuming you're here about the generator too. If you can watch your mouth, which I recognize is a tall order for you, we'd be more effective about it together than separately."
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But this does not happen, because the characterization of anything about his usual self as good boy is making Danse turn salmon-pink all the way down to his scales and his eyes flash as bright and robotically yellow as any Gen 2 in existence, equal parts mortified and offended and also warm enough to heat the surrounding water by half a degree. The pat to his shoulder does not help. At all.
He lets go of Deacon with a motion that he will deny counts as a shove, but is definitely more of a shove than it would have been before Deacon said any of that, and dives back below the surface, because he can. There must be another entrance to the plant somewhere, and he wants to find it, and Deacon can get himself eaten by a lurking eel or something.
After a moment, though, when he grudgingly considers the kind of threats this place might hold, and the fact that neither of them now has a gun that isn't soaked, he sighs in a frustrated stream of bubbles and pops back up a short distance away.
"I'm assuming you're here about the generator too. If you can watch your mouth, which I recognize is a tall order for you, we'd be more effective about it together than separately."