[PHONE(unfiltered, to all)]
[ACTION(for housemates)]
[It's Monday morning again in Mayfield, and 847 Goldberg Street has a new acting father. Balin Wilbur isn't a heavy sleeper by any stretch of the word-so not long after Mayfield whisks him away, he subconsciously realizes something very wrong has happened.]
[Balin's eyes pop open. He's not in a
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Comments 113
Please stop shouting through the phone. It makes it very difficult to understand you.
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First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye, sir.
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Where do you Penumbra assholes get off thinkin' you got'a right to jack us out of the field for crap like this? Especially from the front lines like White Oasis, that's what I wanna know.
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[He's heard all of this before, in one form or another.]
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He's lounging in the chair, heels set up on the edge of the coffee table, idly paging through a worn mystery novel with an incredibly bored expression.]
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[He glances over to the coffee table, noticing the kid. Hmm ... He doesn't look like he's one of the drones. It's probably not drone-like behavior to prop one's feet on a coffee table ...]
Er-hey. I guess ... you're one of the kids of the house?
[This is so freaking awkward.]
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You didn't spook the horse in the garage, did you?
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[That makes him go "wat" on so many levels.]
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