[mirror]
Man, where’s Fuery when you need ‘im?
[Clicking and tapping sounds can be heard though they are muffled. The screen is black but has a hazy quality to it.]
What’s the point of giving me this thing without telling me how to work it?
[The tall blonde suddenly comes into view, obviously having had the chanter pressed against his chest as he searched for a switch of some sort. His military jacket is in a ball next to the chanter, the blue material obscuring the bottom portion of the screen. His black undershirt is streaked with dust, contrasting oddly with the gleam of clean metal in the shoulder holster and at his belt. A rifle leans haphazardly against the wall beside him. With a sigh he leans back against the dingy wall, staring down at the machine with mild interest. The wall is the exterior of a building and coated in sooty grime, though he looks rather the worse for wear as it is. He seems completely unconcerned with the fact that he's sitting on the ground in a side street of a city he knows nothing about, much less that he is filthy or trodden on. He is still convinced this is just a product of his subconscious and he'll wake up in his own bed any minute now.]
This has got to be the weirdest dream of my life.
[He reaches up, drawing the cigarette out of his mouth and tapping the ashes on the ground beside him. Before taking another drag he raps on the chanter with his knucles, the head of the cigarette coming perilously close to the screen. Another sigh and he returns the cigarette between his lips, folding his arms behind his head, letting his eyes drift closed, and musing aloud.]
Too bad I didn’t have a camera when that guy gave me this thing.
[He absently taps the chanter with his boot, cracking one eye open just in case it decides to do anything of interest.]
Could’ve shown Ed he’s taller than someone…
[He says the words with a chuckle but the expression on his face grows solemn. It had become something of a habit for the team to continue making cracks about Ed’s height as if, eventually, if they made one bad enough the blonde would be forced to return from wherever he’d disappeared to in order to defend his stature. Thus far it hadn’t worked but the habit stuck, regardless.]
[Clicking and tapping sounds can be heard though they are muffled. The screen is black but has a hazy quality to it.]
What’s the point of giving me this thing without telling me how to work it?
[The tall blonde suddenly comes into view, obviously having had the chanter pressed against his chest as he searched for a switch of some sort. His military jacket is in a ball next to the chanter, the blue material obscuring the bottom portion of the screen. His black undershirt is streaked with dust, contrasting oddly with the gleam of clean metal in the shoulder holster and at his belt. A rifle leans haphazardly against the wall beside him. With a sigh he leans back against the dingy wall, staring down at the machine with mild interest. The wall is the exterior of a building and coated in sooty grime, though he looks rather the worse for wear as it is. He seems completely unconcerned with the fact that he's sitting on the ground in a side street of a city he knows nothing about, much less that he is filthy or trodden on. He is still convinced this is just a product of his subconscious and he'll wake up in his own bed any minute now.]
This has got to be the weirdest dream of my life.
[He reaches up, drawing the cigarette out of his mouth and tapping the ashes on the ground beside him. Before taking another drag he raps on the chanter with his knucles, the head of the cigarette coming perilously close to the screen. Another sigh and he returns the cigarette between his lips, folding his arms behind his head, letting his eyes drift closed, and musing aloud.]
Too bad I didn’t have a camera when that guy gave me this thing.
[He absently taps the chanter with his boot, cracking one eye open just in case it decides to do anything of interest.]
Could’ve shown Ed he’s taller than someone…
[He says the words with a chuckle but the expression on his face grows solemn. It had become something of a habit for the team to continue making cracks about Ed’s height as if, eventually, if they made one bad enough the blonde would be forced to return from wherever he’d disappeared to in order to defend his stature. Thus far it hadn’t worked but the habit stuck, regardless.]