[ Adapting is Peter's thing. Rolling with the punches, improvising, whatever. But improvisation's a little more difficult when all of your blood's slowly draining into your skull, and the fact that he has to mull that information over is obvious, a pointed delay as he runs the words over once, twice— ]
That wasn't me.
[ Quick, kind of punchy, but that just gives the impression that he's stumbled upon the realization as fact. Fabrication would look less guileless, surely. ]
The job you're talking about, I turned it down. I'm not an idiot. [ A beat. The follow-up's got a sense of diplomacy to it, like he's making allowances for the fact that he's managed to get strung up over a goddamn meat grinder. ] I'm not a complete idiot.
no subject
That wasn't me.
[ Quick, kind of punchy, but that just gives the impression that he's stumbled upon the realization as fact. Fabrication would look less guileless, surely. ]
The job you're talking about, I turned it down. I'm not an idiot. [ A beat. The follow-up's got a sense of diplomacy to it, like he's making allowances for the fact that he's managed to get strung up over a goddamn meat grinder. ] I'm not a complete idiot.