living arsenal.

[Do you ever see someone and think 'well this is awkward'. Because that's what looking at Honey is like for Garrett.

It's an idea maelstrom. It's a shooting gallery.]

- Hello. 

[This is a new encounter, to put it mildly and with extreme tact. 

Garrett does not often meet personified ideas.

This is the kind of thing that makes him itch and his spine ache. His response is to shove his hands deeper in his pockets, feet apart, somewhere between aggressive and defensive. He isn't really afraid - moreover, he's just rather unnerved and trying to figure out what to do about it.

His usual reaction to something unnerving would be to prod at it until he figures out whether or not it's worth cutting out of the fabric of things with his bare hands and teeth if nothing else. But he doubts that would be a good idea when the thing in question can prod in return.

Fine. Recalibrate. Restructure. That's built into him too.

It's not that ideas are enemies. It's that they are prospective targets, and it takes more concentration than it should to not let that show. Garrett is constantly scanning, constantly reevaluating, constantly taking in variables and changes.]

Ma'am.

[Garrett's in the process of chewing a bloody hole in his lip, which is something that he does fairly often and with reckless abandon. It's more stress relief than anything, and he is a very stressed person even if he doesn't really act like it in company. 

He isn't even aware he has company.

Instead he's on his phone, texting away, trying very hard not to say choice words to coworkers. It's only when glancing up idly that he realizes someone else is present.]

he works somewhere official as fuck in between the idea murdering

starters for everyone