[As the deer on the display goes from red to yellow, then to a dull brown, and finally to the same purples and blacks of Carlisle's own digitized frame, the real Carlisle grimaces. He's seen plenty of death before him, certainly, but the approach being more technological does little to mitigate how it makes him feel. Despite it being an accident, Carlisle cannot help the pang of guilt that runs through him.
His eyes flick Qubit's way.]
I cannot say I like where this is going, Mister Qubit.
no subject
His eyes flick Qubit's way.]
I cannot say I like where this is going, Mister Qubit.