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→ → video o1 ← ←
Ah. [ Straight away it's clear that the bloke peering down at the screen has absolutely no idea what's attached to him or what he's doing. He's got a boyish countenance, blue eyes that are more tired than anything, and a small almost worried crease between his brows. But he doesn't say anything for a moment, just peers at his new ... addition. He holds it from his face like a clock face and throws a glance over his shoulder, the image dipping to take in the flash of yellow and blue uniform. ] Erik, look. I think it's recording something.
[ The other voice is vaguely accented Euro-something (a panglobal accent? sure!), and carries a timbre like its owner is smiling through gritted teeth, a smile on a tether tight enough to snap. ] Mine isn’t.
[ The former person holds his wrist aloft for his partner - Erik - to see. Even glowering, he's handsome and dressed in the same leather as the first. Blue eyes flick away and look to him, mouth twisting into something of a smile despite how obviously stressed the pair of them are. ] Well, that's what one gets when they're as volatile as a powder-keg.
Call it preparedness. [ The smile slips an inch and winds itself back in like a winch, lower row of teeth showing. ] It’s metal, whatever it is. But it won’t—[ He can’t remove it, this thing attached to him that as far as he can tell is some kind of small television, and for Erik that’s as disconcerting as not being able to feel his own skin. Showing that much vulnerability is not in the cards, however, so he centers himself with a visible squaring of shoulders, light eyes scanning their immediate area. ] Never mind, that’s the least of our problems.
I agree, we --. [ Need to find the others, find Raven but he stops, touches it and lets the furrow grow more over-pronounced. ] Call this a longshot, but this reminds me of something ... [ A pause, and he arches up an eyebrow, fingertips drifting to his temple in silent request of conversing a little bit more privately. Erik nods and Charles falls silent as though that's the end of that matter. ] The CIA had communication devices like this, I believe we can use it to contact whoever brought us here, bargain for a way out.
[ Because under his bloody single-mindedness Erik is virtually always thinking in thirty directions at once, he notices Charles’ mild mimicry of his phrasing despite the bizarre and unsettling circumstances; he arches his eyebrows in a ripple of interest that quickly fades and then sharpens into focus on the much more relevant subject brought to bear in his head. His nod this time is a quick, disjointed jerk, a bodily command that looks exactly like what it is even if he’s not saying a word aloud. ] Do it.
[ Charles' smile goes from small and private to wide and bright just like a flashbulb going off, his shoulders straightening out as he focuses his attention to the thing wrapped tight around his wrist. He doesn't allow himself the time to worry or feel embarrassed about it, just talking in a smooth, mind-mannered tone. ] My name is Charles Xavier, this is -- [ There's barely a fraction of a second of silence, his knows Erik, knows he's done some things that even Charles couldn't fathom. Giving out his name mightn't be the best thing. ] -- my associate. If someone could fill us in, let us know what's going on and how we can go about our business that would be much appreciated.
( ooc: so replies will come from both![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
mentis & violenthearted. Also there's been a little bit of an addendum to my permissions so if you can have a look that would be swell. )
[ The other voice is vaguely accented Euro-something (a panglobal accent? sure!), and carries a timbre like its owner is smiling through gritted teeth, a smile on a tether tight enough to snap. ] Mine isn’t.
[ The former person holds his wrist aloft for his partner - Erik - to see. Even glowering, he's handsome and dressed in the same leather as the first. Blue eyes flick away and look to him, mouth twisting into something of a smile despite how obviously stressed the pair of them are. ] Well, that's what one gets when they're as volatile as a powder-keg.
Call it preparedness. [ The smile slips an inch and winds itself back in like a winch, lower row of teeth showing. ] It’s metal, whatever it is. But it won’t—[ He can’t remove it, this thing attached to him that as far as he can tell is some kind of small television, and for Erik that’s as disconcerting as not being able to feel his own skin. Showing that much vulnerability is not in the cards, however, so he centers himself with a visible squaring of shoulders, light eyes scanning their immediate area. ] Never mind, that’s the least of our problems.
I agree, we --. [ Need to find the others, find Raven but he stops, touches it and lets the furrow grow more over-pronounced. ] Call this a longshot, but this reminds me of something ... [ A pause, and he arches up an eyebrow, fingertips drifting to his temple in silent request of conversing a little bit more privately. Erik nods and Charles falls silent as though that's the end of that matter. ] The CIA had communication devices like this, I believe we can use it to contact whoever brought us here, bargain for a way out.
[ Because under his bloody single-mindedness Erik is virtually always thinking in thirty directions at once, he notices Charles’ mild mimicry of his phrasing despite the bizarre and unsettling circumstances; he arches his eyebrows in a ripple of interest that quickly fades and then sharpens into focus on the much more relevant subject brought to bear in his head. His nod this time is a quick, disjointed jerk, a bodily command that looks exactly like what it is even if he’s not saying a word aloud. ] Do it.
[ Charles' smile goes from small and private to wide and bright just like a flashbulb going off, his shoulders straightening out as he focuses his attention to the thing wrapped tight around his wrist. He doesn't allow himself the time to worry or feel embarrassed about it, just talking in a smooth, mind-mannered tone. ] My name is Charles Xavier, this is -- [ There's barely a fraction of a second of silence, his knows Erik, knows he's done some things that even Charles couldn't fathom. Giving out his name mightn't be the best thing. ] -- my associate. If someone could fill us in, let us know what's going on and how we can go about our business that would be much appreciated.
( ooc: so replies will come from both
mentis & violenthearted. Also there's been a little bit of an addendum to my permissions so if you can have a look that would be swell. )
video;
I dunno. I just knew of one, but she was less than helpful recently. As for the others? I have no idea how to get in contact with them.
video;
Or shall we just yell at the sky and hope for the best?
Re: video;
Last time anyone saw her alive, she was in a panic, telling us she could help but not doing much to help out. She seemed a big fan of vague answers.
[But then, Charlie's a bigger fan of straight-forward answers and that woman wasn't being as specific as she wanted.]
video;
And now here they are and he has no idea if any of the others are alive, he isn't sure what's happening or where he is and Charles is ... unused to being in the dark. ] Was she in trouble?
video;
Listen, I really am sorry to be the bearer of bad news. You've found yourself in a bad fix. On the plus side, there's a bunch of us here in the same mess and so far, the ones I've met are decent. Hopefully, something will come of that at the very least.
video;
[ It's a darker rhetorical spin on Charles' question, not meant to be answered. Erik is just naturally suspicious of--well, most things, really. ]
A bunch of you in the same mess, and no one's made headway on escape?
video;
[Hey, she'll answer it just the same.] I've only been here a few days. So far, all I've experienced here is hallucinating because of something in the air, learning there's a food shortage and then picking through a stack of boxes in the middle of town, some of which contained food and some which contained nasty surprises.
I don't know anything about escape attempts.
video;
How do you keep yourselves fed? You're dependent entirely on a delivery system?
[He's asking about the economy, too; whether it's money or bartering or magic beans or whatever.]
video;
[there's the sarcasm no one but her loves.] but now it's desolate.
So, I'm really hoping that shit gets sorted soon. Their last delivery came with nasty surprises.