1 💣 VIDEO.

[handycapable]

[ The feed turns on to show a blonde, mustached man in a white dress shirt — the sleeves rolled up to his elbows — and blue tie, currently attempting to juggle holding his communicator, lighting a cigarette, and holding his suit jacket in place (slung over his shoulder) all at once, because these are all clearly equally necessary tasks. When he speaks it's with a twangy Southern accent — recognizable as West Virginian to those who would — seemingly not all that perturbed by his situation. Maybe just slightly inconvenienced, but that's all. ]

So… I guess this is pretty weird, but let's be honest— while I may barely know of any of you, I feel like I can still speak for most of us when I say things could easily be weirder. Personally if anything, I feel like it was only a matter of time before I ended up in some alternate dimension... it's like eventually you just reach that stage in life when everything else crazy's pretty much already happened to you, so all you can say is, "Sure, why not?" Makes perfect sense. [ That might just be sarcasm. Although maybe not? An even mixture, probably. ] But the best part is—

[ This is about the point where Ray proves why it can be dangerous to record yourself and walk, because as he starts to cross the street the video suddenly bounces, his communicator flying as he is struck hard by a car, shattering the windshield before he's tossed off the vehicle with a shriek. Oh, not a car; the screen shortly reveals that it was, in fact, an ambulance. Ray can be heard yelling, cursing, and making all sorts of noise as then the ambulance bumps over something -- maybe the curb or maybe Ray himself -- as it moves to pull over. Audio somewhat muffled, he shouts after it: ]

Jeezus! Y'all call that driving?! [ Then, pained and more to himself: ] Dukes. Well that's gotta be some kinda record. But maybe pain's a good sign in this case... okay--

[ He groans from still-mostly-off-screen, straining as he tries to determine if he can still move his legs, let alone get up. ]

Oh, wow, they still work!

[ After Ray's gotten back up to his feet he reaches for his communicator again with his singularly gloved hand, looking surprisingly pleased for a man who was just in a traffic accident. And whose face is bleeding and lacerated by glass, some shards still stuck in it. In the background: sirens, so he's gonna walk... as quickly as he can away from the crash site. ]

All good! I'm good, it’s all good, just a little— [ He cracks his back, hissing in mild discomfort, then exhaling in harsh relief. ] Whew. That's better. Boy though, could that have been ugly… especially since that ambulance sure isn't going anywhere in a hurry now. Some welcome wagon.

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hdu

[handycapable]

[ Ray responds with a slight smile of his own, although as if in keeping with Shadow's assessment, it's more slight only because it's somewhat -- but only somewhat -- self-conscious, not because it's subtle. ]

Well, I think you're probably right about that one-- to tell the truth, all my life I never really have been. Except for when I put in the effort. [ But going undercover doesn't really count. Or does it...? ] But most of the time I don't really think it's worth it, better to just accept who or what you are. Y'know what I mean?

[ He takes a slow by generous drink of water. ]

Though I never used to be accident-prone.

[shadohdamn]

Makes sense to me. Why put the energy into pretending to be something you're not?

( Which, given the people he has met lately, is perhaps not as simple a philosophy as he'd like to think; the doublespeak, the vagueness, the corrosion of their identities as a necessity for getting by in society. Gods without worship, belief, didn't really lie on the same level as accepting your skills and talents. )

Bad week, or?

[handycapable]

Y'know, I asked myself that same question for years. And maybe it is just the coward's way out, but all I can say is-- sometimes it's just easier, I guess. I dunno.

[ Ray sets the water aside in favor of lighting another cigarette. He doesn't want to... unload or anything, at least not all at once, even if Shadow's the one that's asking. After all, Shadow's the first friend (if it's not too premature to use the term) Ray's made since he's been here so far, and also... well, in years? Ray would have to struggle to remember the last time he made a new non-work "friend."

So he drags on the cigarette and exhales out a long plume of smoke before he continues. ]

Yeah, you could say that. Actually, it's been more like a rough couple'a years, but I've gotten much better at rollin' with the punches. [ A pause, then he adds: ] Probably a bad week for a lotta people here, though. I mean, how've you been getting on?