The door swings open, and right now Lt. Col. Barnes is just George Barnes, dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt and looking like the weariest man on the planet. The scene in the house behind him almost looks comical--a shattered mug on the floor, a realistic fake arm laying a few feet away, a girl of about 14 with a horrified expression on her face trying to slowly edge away from it, and James, staring at Togusa with pleading eyes from the background.
George only vaguely recognizes Togusa, wonders if he's some junior officer he's seen around base before, and wonders what the hell could be so important that it warrants interrupting his evening family crisis. He drags a hand all the way down his face. Right, formalities.
"Good evening, is there something I can help you with?"
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2017-10-16 06:53 pm (UTC)George only vaguely recognizes Togusa, wonders if he's some junior officer he's seen around base before, and wonders what the hell could be so important that it warrants interrupting his evening family crisis. He drags a hand all the way down his face. Right, formalities.
"Good evening, is there something I can help you with?"