video.

[comeshonesty]

[ the view is one from the ground, skewed slightly and tilted, and it shows a gray sky and-- a figure. very slender, in a black suit, it's an older man, his face thin and lined, his pitch-black hair slicked back. there's a black cane with a silver handle hooked in the crook of his arm, and with a patient gesture, he adjusts one of his cufflinks, black gaze finally drifting down to the nv.

it might be hard to meet that gaze-- if so, that's all right. after all, it's tough staring in the face of death, isn't it? especially when it's so literal.

his mouth twitches, thin brows arching sightly as he opens his palm. abruptly, the view is different, the nv in death's hand, and his expression is decidedly unimpressed. ]

Really, you've come to Canada? One would think, given everything, you would have preferred somewhere like Bermuda.

[ he doesn't bother mentioning a name-- he knows that the one he's addressing will know it's for him.

a pause, and his gaze lifts boredly away from the nv, shifting out toward his surroundings. ]

Ah well, I suppose it's not all bad. I hear that they do particularly interesting things with maple syrup here.

[ he shuts the nv with a snap and the feed ends. ]

[ ooc; yes, it's my sample post, don't judge me. u_u ]