That’s… not exactly the way one should address someone when they’re seeking a personal favor – but this is Proton we’re talking about, so it only seems natural that manners have been tossed right out of the window.
If anything, his usually intolerable behavior is made that much worse by the stress of his current predicament. On the horizon lies the prospect of returning someplace he feels outright uncomfortable going back to. A place that he’s outright avoided for some time, choosing instead to stay the night at hotels or rent out a whole other place to stay when the need calls for it.
These costs are burning a pretty large hole in his pocket.
And so his fingers wind themselves into that stupid scarf, as if to keep them both leashed together. It’s time to fix this, and our good ol’ pal Matsuba is going to help him, whether he wants to or not.
“I’m in need of a hand, and I’ve decided that you’re the person for the job.”
That alone was enough to put Matsuba in an autopilot d a z e on the way to the Gym. Every shuffle of his footsteps, even the low droop of his shoulders, radiated exhaustion. For anyone looking to have a one up on the mystic, he was nothing more than a sitting Ducklett.
So ignorantly, does Matsuba stop. T u r n. Only to have the front bunch of his scarf seized roughly..
He doesn’t need to open his mouth for the confusion to present itself. Beneath the dark purple bandana are tightly knit blond brows. The tired, but sudden and sharp inhale when he's y a n k e d down and forward.
❛ Good morning to you, too, ❜ it’s groggily spoken, and already done with whatever nonsense the green haired mankey is about to pull. There’s a hand trying to p r y fingers out of his scarf, and a frown nearly as dark as the exhaustion in his eyes. ❛ I am the person for a job that I will be late to if you do not let go. ❜
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