Mar 19, 2011 20:09
[Well, will you look at that? The first thing one might notice when the whole image flickers is the angle. It's not anywhere on purpose, if anything can be judged by the skewed angle-- tilted to one side, and not of a face too many might have seen if they don't wander in the right places. The whole things must have toppled right off the side of the bed (who said passing out in the middle of research was helpful?) in some sort of scramble?
The second thing?
Leon's still in his jammies. Sleep pants and a t-shirt, lugging a large black case, the emblem of a roaring lion's head right on the lid, down onto the floor. Motions practiced, but in bare hands, it seems a bit... frantic? Relieved when snaps come undone? The case cracked open, lid shoved open, right inside is all the disassembled bits of-- you guessed it! His blade.
...not that it's entirely a blade.
From his profile, barely a glimpse of his face, it's easier to see that relief, somewhat.]
It's all here...
[Hands immediately pick up the hefty cylinder from the foam mold, the whole thing fitting right into his hand-- no way does that thing belong to any conventional revolver, that's for sure, inspecting it. Whatever is on Leon's mind is instantly closed off, irked. Why? Well, would anyone else be too happy about someone looking after their pride? In an instant everything is being removed, right down to a large cloth, from the inside of the case; set out methodically.
Time to check and make sure Revolver is in working condition (still)...]
[ou] squall "leon" leonhart