If Jeff didn't seem just as equally, painfully normal, Raylan would have hesitated a lot more than he did to have him stepping any amount of steps, but instead of weaving to compensate and drawing more attention to just how fucking weird he found this, he held steady and tried not to stare. Jeff's face somehow felt like it carried...less weight, not that Raylan could explain what that really meant. Freer in its exuberance, that was for sure, but it had been a long time since Raylan had anything to be exuberant about.
"Twenty plus years. I'd show you my badge but it's back at the house. Doesn't tend to get much use out here." Next to what he knew was a more 'normal' accent, Raylan couldn't help but feel that twinge of self consciousness about his own. At least he couldn't argue that it suited him. If Jeff had been English, that would have been a completely different story. No amount of good face saved that contrast.
Maybe it wasn't exuberance, maybe it was just drugs, Raylan thought to himself as Jeff came up with what sounded like the Parent Trap on whatever those drugs were. The Marshal scoffed, face curling in a somehow dry grin to match the amused lift of his eyebrows.
"As much as I'd love to have nothin' to do with Arlo, I know for a fact that ain't the case.. Well, unless you're the one got kidnapped and moved to.. Lemme guess, California? Tell me it's at least near a beach, I need some good day dreamin' material," he said as they came up to the clothing shop. Instead of asking or waiting for help, Raylan turned around and used his ass to push the door open as he continued, pausing to hold it open with one boot for Jeff to get a hand on the handle and take the weight. Ambling over to the counter, Raylan finally got to discard his box and take a full better stock of this Jeff person, hands propping on unevenly tilted tips.
"My best guess right now is that this is some.. alternate dimension. Unless you think your parents would adopt you off the black market and not say nothin'." Arlo would but Raylan had.. well past tense had, Helen to confirm the unfortunate genealogy.
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"Twenty plus years. I'd show you my badge but it's back at the house. Doesn't tend to get much use out here." Next to what he knew was a more 'normal' accent, Raylan couldn't help but feel that twinge of self consciousness about his own. At least he couldn't argue that it suited him. If Jeff had been English, that would have been a completely different story. No amount of good face saved that contrast.
Maybe it wasn't exuberance, maybe it was just drugs, Raylan thought to himself as Jeff came up with what sounded like the Parent Trap on whatever those drugs were. The Marshal scoffed, face curling in a somehow dry grin to match the amused lift of his eyebrows.
"As much as I'd love to have nothin' to do with Arlo, I know for a fact that ain't the case.. Well, unless you're the one got kidnapped and moved to.. Lemme guess, California? Tell me it's at least near a beach, I need some good day dreamin' material," he said as they came up to the clothing shop. Instead of asking or waiting for help, Raylan turned around and used his ass to push the door open as he continued, pausing to hold it open with one boot for Jeff to get a hand on the handle and take the weight. Ambling over to the counter, Raylan finally got to discard his box and take a full better stock of this Jeff person, hands propping on unevenly tilted tips.
"My best guess right now is that this is some.. alternate dimension. Unless you think your parents would adopt you off the black market and not say nothin'." Arlo would but Raylan had.. well past tense had, Helen to confirm the unfortunate genealogy.