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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. )
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[ Here his eyebrows meet his hairline, confusion colouring the tone of his words as he throws a look towards Erik. ] I'm not sure I much like the idea of anything being forceful. Where are these cameras? What are they used for?
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[ Because they have had no real need to explore, not from the moment they found themselves sprawled against concrete. ] Why would anyone need cameras any where? [ He's not entirely fond of them either way. ]
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[ Because a certain lack of knowledge seems to be the common theme and Charles is almost perturbed by this. He's a creature of knowledge, to not have it sounds horrifying. ]
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Forty-six days. He needs to get back to Raven immediately. ]
And you have no idea why you're here?
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And your captors haven't even felt the need to gloat?
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[He pauses, considering.]
I cannot count their reactions to escape attempts or interference with their cameras as communication.
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[He has to consider this. It's not a comfortable thing for him to discuss.]
Our escape attempt was punished with some variety of hallucinogenic drug. It affected me, as well, though I should be immune to the effects of chemical compounds.
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He hates relying entirely on his own social skills. ]
I'm sorry, sometimes I'm terribly nosy.
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[He can't, after all, take offense.]
My name is Daneel Olivaw. I'm a humaniform robot created by Dr. Roj Nemennuh Sarton and Dr. Han Fastolfe. Chemical compounds should have no effect on me.
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It's a pleasure to meet you.
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[He's not sure how to take that. Politeness, curiosity? It's certainly one of the things he finds problematic about long-distance communication.]
It does seem likely to me that the individuals who keep us here are possessed of some very advanced technology.
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[ To him the technology now strapped to his arm is particularly advanced. ]
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I apologise, sir. To me they seem very crude, but that is only my perspective on things.
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