Chris Traeger is a perfect storm of emotions. (waytogo) wrote in the100,
And there it was again, the wide-eyed speechlessness that only Cecil Palmer seemed to be able to elicit from Chris. Was this how people felt when they looked at him with that unmistakable blend of affection and bewilderment? He didn't think his anecdotes were anywhere near as odd as Cecil's, but would he know it if they were? Was oddness a quality that could be compared or contrasted? Did it even matter if it was? So many things to think about.
He set a timer on his watch -- five minutes to steep the tea sufficiently -- and took another pull from the jar of moonshine. "I'm sure it's a lovely town but I have to say, from your descriptions, Night Vale sounds... slightly terrifying." There was no gentler way to phrase that (and even if there was one, Chris probably lacked the subtlety to find it). "Gaseous mind control? Was that a citywide thing? All we had in Pawnee was the air pollution from the Sweetums factory."