Charlie is outside. Surveying the damage from the explosion and the quake. He knows he doesn't have to. But it gives him something to do. And sometimes he really does miss being on the scene
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"I've seen it before. Seven or eight years before I died. We called it a Crisis. The first of many, and probably the worst." Some memories are not pleasant.
"Red sky at morning," Jim mutters. He's got a bad feeling about this.
He glances over his shoulder and looks Charlie in the...face. He raises an eyebrow briefly but otherwise shows only mild alarm. "I really, really hate to ask this question, but this Crisis you're talking about wouldn't happen to have anything in common with a little crisis that happens outside the window every forty-five minutes, would it?"
"Only in the sense that we thought it was the end of the world. It wasn't. As far as we can tell, at any rate." He was never quite sure what that Crisis WAS. And always heard the strangest theories about it.
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He glances over his shoulder and looks Charlie in the...face. He raises an eyebrow briefly but otherwise shows only mild alarm. "I really, really hate to ask this question, but this Crisis you're talking about wouldn't happen to have anything in common with a little crisis that happens outside the window every forty-five minutes, would it?"
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