Lawrence
"You know, you've said that about ten times already. Did it look like I cared then? Because I still don't care now." Lawrence lead the way, wiping the foul air away from his nose with a disgusted frown. Of course, that was just playing. He'd already lost his soul's sense of smell long ago, a bit earlier than his sense of taste.
"Like I said, I'm not the time to yap about doing something if I can't actually do it. You keep rambling about hero this, impossible that, Jesus Christ shut up already. I'm really getting the vibes that you're projecting your feelings on me, or just obsessed. Still creepy."
His cane dragged his weak body across the filth and muck. Honestly, he felt right at home. Maybe a rat skewer to chew down on, a meth lab here or there... home sweet home.
You've got some awful tastes.
Hush boi.
The cane was slightly louder than his steps, if only because of how deliberate it was. But suddenly, he stopped with a shrewd smile on his lips.
"I've never cared whether something was impossible or not, and I have no idea what brain damage got you so fixated on that. I will always move forward, it's the only way I know to live. Why do you move your body, boy?"