Voices in his head. That's new. Not as new as he'd like, but...yeah. New enough to raise some red flags. Jet was more or less on the cusp of dozing off when the voice cracks into his head and he snaps awake promptly.
He's not sure if he can answer it. Nonetheless, the idea of someone being able to speak to him in his head is enough to drive him to seek some fucking answers for it. The whole thing reeks, to Jet, someone who's survived due to being a hyper-paranoid jackass, as a fucking trap.
So he arms himself before heading out. He approaches warily, combing the farmlands for anyone who might be suspicious. Armed, though not visibly. Looking for all the world like someone who expects to be ambushed at any second.
The farmlands aren't too occupied today. The only person in the vicinity gets the full brunt of Jet's suspicion, which isn't admittedly terribly overt as he draws near. He's laconic as ever when he speaks:
i.
He's not sure if he can answer it. Nonetheless, the idea of someone being able to speak to him in his head is enough to drive him to seek some fucking answers for it. The whole thing reeks, to Jet, someone who's survived due to being a hyper-paranoid jackass, as a fucking trap.
So he arms himself before heading out. He approaches warily, combing the farmlands for anyone who might be suspicious. Armed, though not visibly. Looking for all the world like someone who expects to be ambushed at any second.
The farmlands aren't too occupied today. The only person in the vicinity gets the full brunt of Jet's suspicion, which isn't admittedly terribly overt as he draws near. He's laconic as ever when he speaks:
"You Jim?"