A PSA from your local 'silhouette among silk spreads'

[foxable]

Okay. We need to have a talk, guys. Seriously.

Can we maybe not bring people home to torture any more? Please? I get that we need to learn shit but can we maybe try to do so in a way that doesn't break the god damned Geneva convention? Fucking thanks in advance.

Two: whoever is cleaning up my notes please stop. I had almost an entire paragraph written out on the kitchen floor the other day and I was so close to figuring something out, and then when I came back it was gone. I know they are chalk and I know they look like scribbles but they aren't. I'll clean them up when I copy them down!



[ ooc: around the farm house you will find chalk drawings randomly on assorted and varied surfaces. sometimes walls. he's also used an icicle to carve some thoughts into the dirt just outside the main door. All of them are written in code save one set in one of the rooms that has a little picture of a woman with a violin and then the word 'Vanya' underneath. Otherwise they are intelligible, even with translation. Feel free to say that he even used your characters rooms/doors/sheets/anything else that may be a writing surface in any given moment. ]

Comments

[sergeant_slick]

I'm Slick. If you're--[He glances up, trying to locate the source of the sound. Doesn't take long.

The glowing clothes didn't phase him too much--glow panels and fiber optics weren't common in civvie clothes, but not out of the question either.

Everything else was A Lot right now, though.]

Woah, easy there, kid. [Fox was definitely older than he was, possibly in more ways than one. Still wasn't going to stop him.] Tell me what you're gonna do first.

[foxable]

Slick? Nice. That makes us a Slick Fox. [ He chuckled at his definitely hilarious joke before raising his hands as if in surrender when given the indication to back off. ]

I'm going to look at your head? [ He said, confusedly. ]

I need to know what you did to it, if you broke skin or cracked your skull or something. Can't help when I don't know what I'm helping, yeah?

[sergeant_slick]

Can't fault the enthusiasm, but I don't know you. [He gives the kid a once-over, trying to... he doesn't know. Gauge what this one's deal is.]

I just got here from a bad place, alright? Getting examined doesn't always mean good things.

[He sighs. He'd do a lot better with the attention of a medic, but he's not sure how much can get fixed on this planet. But if this Fox has something that can help...]

Probably took a punch here, [He taps just below a cut on his scalp, surrounded by a gently curved bruise. A clone's gauntlet plate would leave that kind of mark, though he didn't remember what had happened.] then hit the back of my head on the way down. [He tapped another bruise back there.

If it had just been those injuries, he would've been fine. Maybe a little anti-bac in the cut, but you walked those sorts of things off.

Or at least, that was what had to happen for clones.] Definitely concussed, I don't remember the hits. Headache, unsteadiness, that whole bit. [Unfortunately, he'd felt it all before, more than once, seen it a lot too. So he knew what it was and how much it was.]

It's been a few days since it happened. It's not the worst, but it's slowing me down.