(no subject)
[option A: video]
[Med'an looks down at the camera as he prepares to speak. A small, furry, white ear pokes up into the frame from the direction of his lap.]
Every few months, it seems like one of those happens. We all share our dreams with each other. And they're usually pretty unpleasant. [He shifts a little, and the ear is joined by its partner ear. He seems a little awkward, unsure of what he wants to say, but very earnest.] ...Is everyone alright? It's not really an enjoyable experience. Yosuke, Tavros? ...Maria? [Other bros please also respond. He wants to make sure everyone is alright. :( ]
[option B: video/action (technically dated to this afternoon or something)]
[The video turns on, but it doesn't appear to have been done on purpose. It's a view of the river, like the communicator has been propped against a rock, and a shirt lying on the ground up front.
Med'an is standing knee-deep in the river, barechested, bent over with another one of his shirts in his hands. He's doing the laundry, apparently. He straightens, begins to ring the shirt out, then decides to hold it above his head so that he can cool off with the excess water. It runs through his hair and down his skin as he shakes the shirt and moves to put it someplace where it can dry.
(You're welcome.)]
[Med'an looks down at the camera as he prepares to speak. A small, furry, white ear pokes up into the frame from the direction of his lap.]
Every few months, it seems like one of those happens. We all share our dreams with each other. And they're usually pretty unpleasant. [He shifts a little, and the ear is joined by its partner ear. He seems a little awkward, unsure of what he wants to say, but very earnest.] ...Is everyone alright? It's not really an enjoyable experience. Yosuke, Tavros? ...Maria? [Other bros please also respond. He wants to make sure everyone is alright. :( ]
[option B: video/action (technically dated to this afternoon or something)]
[The video turns on, but it doesn't appear to have been done on purpose. It's a view of the river, like the communicator has been propped against a rock, and a shirt lying on the ground up front.
Med'an is standing knee-deep in the river, barechested, bent over with another one of his shirts in his hands. He's doing the laundry, apparently. He straightens, begins to ring the shirt out, then decides to hold it above his head so that he can cool off with the excess water. It runs through his hair and down his skin as he shakes the shirt and moves to put it someplace where it can dry.
(You're welcome.)]