Skulduggery is too busy trying to tolerate the searing headache to mind being unceremoniously dumped. It is... let's say momentarily panic-inducing to feel his skull about to split open, his first thought not of temporal displacement but the far more mundane psychotic subconscious that's been scratching at the inside of his skull on and off for two months.
Thankfully, it's just a result of reality-hopping. Skulduggery doesn't know what he'd do if he lost his mind to the Deathbringer while Yakety Sax played in the background.
"Ughhh." Is all he actually says, clumsily taking Ava's offered hand and dragging himself to his feet. The feeling starts to subside and he finally gets to look around himself, first at the Americana diner and then at his own pink-checked windbreaker. God, he's even wearing loafers. This is the worst acknowledgment of the dad vibes he's been giving out.
"What is with him and Americana?" Ughhh. Can't they wind up in a rainy European village or something? God, the kitsch is going to kill him before the migraine does. That's assuming that the blinding sunlight reflecting off car hoods outside doesn't make the headache even worse...
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Thankfully, it's just a result of reality-hopping. Skulduggery doesn't know what he'd do if he lost his mind to the Deathbringer while Yakety Sax played in the background.
"Ughhh." Is all he actually says, clumsily taking Ava's offered hand and dragging himself to his feet. The feeling starts to subside and he finally gets to look around himself, first at the Americana diner and then at his own pink-checked windbreaker. God, he's even wearing loafers. This is the worst acknowledgment of the dad vibes he's been giving out.
"What is with him and Americana?" Ughhh. Can't they wind up in a rainy European village or something? God, the kitsch is going to kill him before the migraine does. That's assuming that the blinding sunlight reflecting off car hoods outside doesn't make the headache even worse...