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[Look at this asshole and his bike, sitting on the floor near the eleventh wave kitchen. He's bruised up, but bandaged, arm wrapped protectively around his torso, and he's peering at a bike that's been turned upside down with a twisted front wheel, spokes broken off in various directions. It's hard trying to fix this thing with only one hand and no tools and it's obvious Wilee isn't going to get anywhere with it.

Idiot.

Finally, it occurs to him to ask for help, because duh, that is what the devices are for. Might as well use them. So with his good hand, the one not wrapped with gauze and tape, Wilee picks up the communicator and stares into easily. Good thing he's from current times and know how to use a cell phone.]

Hey. Does anybody have a spoke wrench around here? And what happens at home while we're here?

[Because that second question definitely has sometime to do with bike repair.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

No one's sure if it'll gum up your plans or not. If you get your facts from the feedbox noise, word is everything freezes 'till you go back. If you go back.

Edited 2012-10-09 22:17 (UTC)

[That voice sounds... familiar. Too familiar. It runs a chill down Wilee's spine so much that it's familiar and he can't place it. He's going to shake it off for now, though.]

Uh... Was that English?

Yeah, it's English. You mugs don't know how to look in a dictionary it's not my fault. Point still stands, soldier. No one knows.

You could have just said that. Less words.

[Less noir slang.]

Looks like we're fucked then.

I did say that. And yeah, looks like we're all stuck under the thumb of some yegg who knows what he's doing but won't let us in on the plan. It's enough to drive you nuts.

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[Here, Wilee, have a cheery Kaylee. You remember her, right? Well, now she's in her room, with a frilly pink-and-white dress hanging up behind her, and she quickly pops up, rattling a small metal tool box at him.]

Why didn't you ask me sooner? I got all you need!

You were too busy yelling at me to go to that Simon guy.

[But he's cracking a smile at you, Kaylee, so yes, he remembers you.]

I don't yell! [She just fusses! But she's smiling, too.] What's that there, anyway? That was what you were so worried about, in your locker.

Bitching, then. [Still grinning!] A bike? You don't know what a bike is?

[Seriously, Kaylee?]

Careful who you call that! I got wrenches, you got a broken bike.

Never seen a bike didn't have an engine on it. Must not go very fast. I could fix it up for you!

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[Hey look, it's you! Only a decade younger. And not looking too happy.]

Who the fuck are you?

[Wilee squints at the screen and it's like look in a mirror. He turns off the device and then turns it back on, thinking it's a glitch or some shit, but no, the other face that is exactly like his is still there. There be some ruffled feathers here.]

Who the fuck are you?

[He almost retorts with I ASKED YOU FIRST, but he decides not to be that childish. It's a rare moment: Tommy's sober.]

Tommy. Now are you gonna answer my question?

[Sober or not, Wilee doesn't give a fuck. He's also not in the mood to be answering any questions until all of his are answered.]

Why the fuck you have my face?

[Something he never thought he'd say a day in his life.]

You're the one with my fucking face.

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It's unclear what happens back there.

So nobody knows what happens here or there? What does anybody know then?

What we know is that a few people have returned home. During that span while they were home, they apparently remembered nothing of what had gone on here; moreover, those at home hadn't missed them. All evidence is anecdotal; nothing has been studied in any consistent manner.

[Wilee sighs and rubs a hand over his face, even though Edgeworth can't see it. That is both helpful and unhelpful at the same time. If no one is missing him, then no one is missing that ticket just yet. Comforting.

A bit.]

Anecdotal is better than nothing, though. How'd they get out?

No one knows.

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[Putting that bike on display for the entire network to see? Big mistake. Have one Netherlands who, despite looking rather haggard, bandaged, and worse for wear, still looks like he might as well be observing the baby Jesus and a stack of gold and the sun shining out of Wilee's ass - all at once.]

You've got a bike.

[No shit, Ned.]

[Nothing shines out of Wilee's ass. Trust me on this.]

Yeah. [He smiles as he pats the twisted wheel.] They gave me that much.

[There's a few more seconds of open almost-drooling, and then he sits back, lights a cigarette, and frowns.]

Got help with it?

Yeah. Kaylee's gonna lend me her wrench so it'll be as good as new in a minute.

[He's noticing that gaping stare and okay, his curiosity is getting the best of him.]

You ride?

[Damn. The corner of his mouth twitches, but other than that he keeps the disappointment off his face.]

Used to.

[Before I got stuck here is implied, but verbal communication isn't his strong front.]