[He goes from being still, to being gently(?) jostled forward, metal pressed against his back, to moving his feet forward towards the exit of his door. Connor detaches himself just long enough so that he can glance back, confusion briefly crossing his features, and it’s hard to miss the bold red text flashing on Meddy’s display.]
Quarantine zone? Hold on—
[Connor nigh digs his heels in, turning with a laughable little spin, his tie swooshing behind him in the follow-up.]
I don’t need to be quarantined; I need to help those here who are sick.
no subject
Quarantine zone? Hold on—
[Connor nigh digs his heels in, turning with a laughable little spin, his tie swooshing behind him in the follow-up.]
I don’t need to be quarantined; I need to help those here who are sick.