In the normal course of events, Robert Lutece is not a particularly motivated individual where anything resembling strenuous physical activity is concerned. However, in the normal course of events, Robert Lutece is also not candy, and it's already been heavily established that he is indeed currently candy, so what's normal is hardly relevant anymore. Moreover, being candy, and being possessed of the desire to somehow not be candy, are both pretty strong motivators. As a result, the normally-lethargic Robert Lutece is at this point being markedly intrepid in the face of possible eternal candying.
Having listened resentfully to the Extras little rhymes, he's decided he'd better play along a little if he wants to try and accelerate his recovery; evidently in this place, large-scale reality shifts are rather common, and only get worse if they're avoided. He would not like to see his life get any worse.
Instead, he's followed the dry riverbed and is currently plodding along in it, nudging dead fish out of his way with a walking (pixie) stick, trying to scale the mountain to the source of this apparent river dam.
"There exists a universe in which I'll be stuck this way forever," he tries to remind himself bracingly. "I don't intend for it to be this one. If that requires some legwork, so be it. Do remember, Robert, you've done worse."
The stench is wretched, which ought to be a scientific impossibility given his anatomy. But so is everything else about his current anatomy, so it doesn't bear thinking about right now.
no subject
Having listened resentfully to the Extras little rhymes, he's decided he'd better play along a little if he wants to try and accelerate his recovery; evidently in this place, large-scale reality shifts are rather common, and only get worse if they're avoided. He would not like to see his life get any worse.
Instead, he's followed the dry riverbed and is currently plodding along in it, nudging dead fish out of his way with a walking (pixie) stick, trying to scale the mountain to the source of this apparent river dam.
"There exists a universe in which I'll be stuck this way forever," he tries to remind himself bracingly. "I don't intend for it to be this one. If that requires some legwork, so be it. Do remember, Robert, you've done worse."
The stench is wretched, which ought to be a scientific impossibility given his anatomy. But so is everything else about his current anatomy, so it doesn't bear thinking about right now.