Hungover. What the fuck.

[expectremorse]

[Hoffman twitches. He looks groggily at the camera.]

...What the fuck is going on?

[ooc: give me your puppets you guys. Give me your puppets.]

Comments

[expectremorse]

...Who the fuck are you?

[He's very, very hung over.] Are you new? To the barge?

[expectremorse]

...I'm fine.

[He's so glad he's wearing pajamas. So glad. There's a brief shuffling and he disappears off camera.]

This again- Mutant Charles Xavier.

...as a kid?

[nowdashawayall]

If it isn't little Mark Hoffman!

Have you been naughty or nice this year?

[expectremorse]

[Hoffman stares. His eyes wide.]

...Oh god.

[frown] yourereal?

[nowdashawayall]

Why, of course I'm real, Mark! I live on in the hearts of children across the universe!

[expectremorse]

[This is just...awkward. Because he believes in it. For a moment he's struck dumb.]

...So it's not just-earth-it's-the universe that you deliver presents to?

[of_wheatfields]

[The most bored voice]

This is Jurisdiction ship Ragnarok, Chief Engineer Wheatfields responding, could you bunch kindly get the hell off of our communications network. Your braid's frayed all over known space.

[expectremorse]

Pal, we would like nothing better then to get off the network but-

[He rolls off the bed. A moment pauses] our braid of what? what?

[of_wheatfields]

Your comm network. Braid. Who are you people. How are you this bad at technology.

[expectremorse]

..Pal, we're not bad at technology. This is ..

Why the fuck do we have to tell you anything?

[Private]

[iwashisreason]

Mark.

[She's had time to check the network and talk to people today. She's learned how to use that filter.]

[And there's equal parts love and disapproval in that one word.]

Re: [Private]

[expectremorse]

[It's like a ghost. Mark is instantly wide awake.]

Angelina?

[He's suddenly aware of being in his pajamas. Of being on the barge. Of his scar. Of being dead. He tries-unsuccessfully-to cover everything at once.]

...Is it-

[of course it's really her. Why would the barge do this, it could be a trick, it's her-she's here, Angelina Hoffman/Aacomb is here. She's beautiful. She's-]

You're here. On the network. On-

[His attempts to cover up force him off the bed in a heap. He's gone for a moment before he returns and picks up the network-

trying to make sure she's still there.]

[Private]

[iwashisreason]

I'm here.

[She doesn't bat an eye at his efforts. How many times did she come over and see him in his pajamas?

How many times did he come over and see her in hers?

Besides, what they're wearing is hardly what she's come to talk to him about.]

We need to talk, Mark. About everything. About what you did to get here. About what you've done since you got here.

About John and Amanda and Remus.

And David.

Re: [Private]

[expectremorse]

[Hoffman's mouth opens and closes. He sits cross legged on the bed with eyes wide.]

I have questions first. How are you here? Are you dead? [Unspoken: What's "death" like?] Did you see? Did you-

Angie..

[He sounds like a boy.] You look beautiful.

Video

[ihumpedhoudini]

[Intrepid Victorian lady reporter!]

Why don't you tell me?

Re: Video.

[expectremorse]

[Hoffman rubs his eyes. Unlike someone certain-he....doesn't give two shits about how he looks. He stifles an early morning burp and stares at the camera.]

...everyone's being invaded. Again

Re: Video.

[ihumpedhoudini]

How charming.

I suppose you know George as well?

Re: Video.

[expectremorse]

...Crabtree?

...Yeah. He's a good guy. A really good guy actually. A little naive and silly but.