-Bap-
-Looks around, confused-
The kind you can eat with your mouth.
What if there’s no better word than just not saying anything?-drops him off on the shore-
Geez... you're heavy, pal. You okay? Still conscious?
-stands up, looking him over-
UN JOUR JE SERAI DE RETOUR PRÈS DE TOI-Darts out of the way and tries to find where it's coming from-
What if there’s no better word than just not saying anything?Jensen takes a moment to sputter and cough like a gaping fish. Wiping his mouth he looks around, his breaths diminishing in volume until they're almost inaudible. He glances up at Archer: his sunglasses augment had deactivated. He kept them off.
"I'm... not sure I'm fully conscious. You look like a fantasy book character, for one thing... and last I checked, Panchea was in the middle of the ocean, not a lake..."
"It's not recreational if it's for research." - prior to consuming 10 grams each of five varieties of cocaine.If his saviour really was a dying hallucination his mind had cooked up in its last, oxygen-deprived moments, Jensen couldn't help but think that it was a suprisingly helpful hallucination.
"Sure... yeah, I could use a hand."
"It's not recreational if it's for research." - prior to consuming 10 grams each of five varieties of cocaine.

-ANOTHER BASEBALL-
-Where is it coming from?-
I live in a constant state of fear and misery.