Well, it does make more sense than assuming Deacon is planning to use the place to aid and abet dangerous unknown quantities and turn them loose without any further monitoring, whatever that would entail here. The 'ding-dong' goes without comment; Danse has been called worse before and sometimes deserved it less.
The fact that it's been answered aloud when he hadn't said it aloud also feels comfortable enough, after so many days of things just Being Like That around the camp. He'd almost venture to say it's a perfectly acceptable means of communication when people want it to be, as opposed to accidental eavesdropping. Danse has taken entirely too well to the influence of the swarmlike hivemind, and he'll keep finding it weirdly natural unless someone actually points out that it's happening to him. In any case, his approval of the tool grid idea is likewise projected without him bothering to voice it, occupied as he is with lighting his own cigarette.
"It's not quite like that. There's some degree of privacy. Individual bedding compartments; I'll use them myself if it's raining." Or if he's ill, which has happened here to a far more serious extent than he'd ever experienced back home--nobody has had perfectly smooth sailing with this unavoidable mutating energy; the lucky ones just seem to be suffering less than others. He's given Deacon some sense of that already, at least.
"Honestly, you're better off just stripping a bed and taking the blanket. They're soft enough to use as bedrolls. I tried to use one for its intended purpose and I woke up thinking someone was smothering me."
no subject
The fact that it's been answered aloud when he hadn't said it aloud also feels comfortable enough, after so many days of things just Being Like That around the camp. He'd almost venture to say it's a perfectly acceptable means of communication when people want it to be, as opposed to accidental eavesdropping. Danse has taken entirely too well to the influence of the swarmlike hivemind, and he'll keep finding it weirdly natural unless someone actually points out that it's happening to him. In any case, his approval of the tool grid idea is likewise projected without him bothering to voice it, occupied as he is with lighting his own cigarette.
"It's not quite like that. There's some degree of privacy. Individual bedding compartments; I'll use them myself if it's raining." Or if he's ill, which has happened here to a far more serious extent than he'd ever experienced back home--nobody has had perfectly smooth sailing with this unavoidable mutating energy; the lucky ones just seem to be suffering less than others. He's given Deacon some sense of that already, at least.
"Honestly, you're better off just stripping a bed and taking the blanket. They're soft enough to use as bedrolls. I tried to use one for its intended purpose and I woke up thinking someone was smothering me."