[ Strange, fortunately, won't have to work too hard to find Lambert -- he's lying on his couch, injured leg propped up on one arm, smoking a cigarette with his arms crossed behind his head. He's tired, but as much as he knows he needs to, he can't get to sleep. When Strange slams in, he barely twitches. The proliferation of cigarette butts in a glass on the table suggests he's been making the most of feeding that nicotine addiction, and he just ends up looking at the magician blearily. ]
If you're just here to yell at me, couldn't you have brought a drink? [ He asks plaintively. ]
no subject
If you're just here to yell at me, couldn't you have brought a drink? [ He asks plaintively. ]