[accidental video]
[When the feed turned on, Waver was standing in the room, complaining. He didn't seem to notice that the camera was on and recording because if he did, this wouldn't be any fun.]
[This wasn't really all that unusual.]
[He was wearing an Admiral's Great Tactics t-shirt that was about seven sizes too big for him. It was quite obviously Rider's, since no one else would wear a shirt that big, and it came down almost to his knees. The collar was big enough that it slipped over his shoulder. It was also fairly obvious that he was wearing nothing but the shirt.]
[This was somewhat more unusual.]
What the hell am I supposed to do about this?
[He was looking at a set of bruises on his arm, which rather curiously looked almost like they were in the shape of fingers. He poked at them with his fingers, testing their tenderness, and hissed when it stung. There was a mark on his exposed shoulder that very definitely looked like a bite, and several similar ones on his neck.]
That idiot... Is it too much to ask that he control himself? [He pulled up the edge of the shirt to a level that would've been pushing modesty if he'd known he was being recorded. There was another set of bruises on his thighs that looked like hand prints. He made an exasperated noise and let it drop again after a moment.]
What am I going to do with him?
[He was still unaware of the recording, which is probably a good thing because no one wants to be on the receiving end of Waver's spazzing. Huffing and annoyed, he turned and grabbed the hem of the shirt, apparently to change-- and the feed shut off. No one gets a free show.]
[This wasn't really all that unusual.]
[He was wearing an Admiral's Great Tactics t-shirt that was about seven sizes too big for him. It was quite obviously Rider's, since no one else would wear a shirt that big, and it came down almost to his knees. The collar was big enough that it slipped over his shoulder. It was also fairly obvious that he was wearing nothing but the shirt.]
[This was somewhat more unusual.]
What the hell am I supposed to do about this?
[He was looking at a set of bruises on his arm, which rather curiously looked almost like they were in the shape of fingers. He poked at them with his fingers, testing their tenderness, and hissed when it stung. There was a mark on his exposed shoulder that very definitely looked like a bite, and several similar ones on his neck.]
That idiot... Is it too much to ask that he control himself? [He pulled up the edge of the shirt to a level that would've been pushing modesty if he'd known he was being recorded. There was another set of bruises on his thighs that looked like hand prints. He made an exasperated noise and let it drop again after a moment.]
What am I going to do with him?
[He was still unaware of the recording, which is probably a good thing because no one wants to be on the receiving end of Waver's spazzing. Huffing and annoyed, he turned and grabbed the hem of the shirt, apparently to change-- and the feed shut off. No one gets a free show.]