knifetomeetyou: (I'm sorry unicorns don't exist)
[In the background is the steady noise of rain. The weather reports did say it would be a rainy Monday, and Hughes is inside keeping himself warm.]

Does anyone have any idea where these dinosaurs came from, or if they're even native to Discedo in the first place?

...

Oh, and you guys better be careful if you're going out. Rain and dinosaurs...not a good combination, if you ask me.
knifetomeetyou: (OVER-OVERPROTECTIVE DAD GO)
BZZAP!

[No reaction. There's no reaction to the sudden zap. Until...]

Someone stole some pictures of my wife and daughter.

...

I want them back. Even the bad guys back home don't sink THIS low.

[He sounds very, very serious - as in, KEEL YOU DED serious. Let's not forget he was the guy practicing his knife skills some time ago too.]
knifetomeetyou: (deadly weapons || ace up his sleeve)
[Our resident knife nut-slash-doting dad is somewhere outside Marshall Apartment. Thanks to Grit's chip event, Hughes woke up this morning feeling quite...peculiar, but raring to practice his aim. A piece of paper with a bull's eye is tacked onto a large empty barrel that sits atop a large crate a considerable distance away from the soldier, who is eying it carefully. It doesn't take him long to let his knife fly; his technique is sleek, quick and practiced.

And the blade does indeed fly - although it seems to be flying more like a bullet, a silver blur that whooshes straight into the middle of the black dot. Instead of embedding itself into the barrel's wooden planks, the knife punches a hole in and zooms through the other side, spinning and disappearing off-screen.

Needless to say, Hughes is pretty speechless as he approaches the communicator, which is perched somewhere close to the apartment.]


...

First I wake up this morning tingling and glowing, and now this. I'm...pretty sure I'm not supposed to do any of these things.

Anyhow, guess it's time to go pick that up.
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