[Emet-Selch shakes his head once. Pointedly. And forces his tired bones to reassemble into a slightly more upright position.]
[There are still people milling about and none of the theatre staff have rushed out looking for him, so it couldn't have been more than a moment since he sat down. Besides, his coffee is still steaming gently.]
[He lifts a hand, motioning slowly: "Is that why you're hiding? Come out and tell me which shows you liked." Not that he'll be swayed by a young undead's opinion, but perhaps it's best not to leave him crouched there on the ground.]
no subject
[Emet-Selch shakes his head once. Pointedly. And forces his tired bones to reassemble into a slightly more upright position.]
[There are still people milling about and none of the theatre staff have rushed out looking for him, so it couldn't have been more than a moment since he sat down. Besides, his coffee is still steaming gently.]
[He lifts a hand, motioning slowly: "Is that why you're hiding? Come out and tell me which shows you liked." Not that he'll be swayed by a young undead's opinion, but perhaps it's best not to leave him crouched there on the ground.]