( 15 ) video ♧ let us sing like the doves then decide if it's done with purpose or lack thereof

[became]

[ here's the thing: sleep deprivation makes idle whims seem like fantastic ideas-- and neal's not full up on self-control as it is, so two weeks of barely any sleep just raises great idea to best idea on his personal scale.

as such he's leaning against the wall behind his bed, pupils slightly blown. what is an intro he can't even. ]

Not we, my dear, you. I'm leaving you here.

You're what? Rhett, where are you going?

I'm going, my dear, to join the army.

[ his posture changes between; other than a few flat vowels slipping in as rhett, pushing for the accent seems a little too much and posture is good enough to convey the suggestion of gender, if you're careful. ]

Oh, you're joking. I could kill you for scaring me so.

I'm very serious, Scarlett. I'm going to join up with our brave lads in gray.

But they're running away.

Oh, no, they'll turn and make a last stand, if I know anything about them. And when they do, I'll be with them. I'm a little late, but better late than--

[ it's tricky to overlap your own voice, and his grimaces a little and shrugs as if apologizing for the lack of actual interruption in the scene. ( sleep deprivation or pretentiousness: the world may never know. ) ]

Rhett, you must be joking.

Selfish to the end, aren't you? Thinking of your own precious hide with never a thought for the noble cause. [ he yawns widely, skipping scarlett's line in the process. ] Why? Maybe it's because I've always had a weakness for lost causes, once they're really lost. Or maybe, maybe I'm ashamed of myself. Who knows?

[ he pauses, body language returning abruptly to his usual. ] I missed something, there. Anyway-- [ and back to the show. ]

You should die of shame to leave me here alone and helpless.

You, helpless? Heaven help the Yankees if they capture you. Now climb down here. I want to say goodbye.

[ that makes him pause, one that extends out into another jaw-cracking yawn and neal slumps down even more, almost prone now. ]

There's more, but it's really better with someone else.

[ and he's out. ]

Comments

[makedo]

[ never let brad know because brad will mock him and rant about the costs of marriage

it has nothing to do with his ex-fiancee leaving him for his best friend okay, nothing. ]

And you settled on this of all things?

[became]

Why not? It seemed like a good idea at the time.

[ and that is about neal's reason for 86% of his life choices

which explains a lot about his life. ]

[makedo]

[ brad just makes a noise of utter disgust. there's no accounting for taste. ]

And it seemed like a good idea to entertain us with your horrendous rendition, too, I'm sure.

[became]

I repeat: why not? It's better than surveys about why we need Edgeworth to set us up a court system.

[makedo]

You're almost as bad as Person.

[became]

...as bad as who?

[ brad he would be so horrified if he knew ray ]

[makedo]

[ it was almost a compliment, brad likes ray. against his better judgment and all. ]

Ray Person. You don't want to know him.

[became]

[ ray and neal would probably hate and adore each other in equal measure, or possibly the world would explode if they came in contact. either/or. ]

If he's not here, I hate to be the one to say this but odds are I won't.

[ a little sympathetic, there. ]

[makedo]

[ the world would probably explode. what a terrible combination ]

No shit.

[ brad doesn't miss ray. at all. ever. so there's no need for sympathy, seriously. ]

[became]

A man of few words, hmmm?

[ if you say so brad ]

[makedo]

Only when I've got nothing to say. [ you want him to let loose a string of insults? because he could, really ]

[became]

That was almost ten, that time.

[ so apparently yes ]

[makedo]

Let me guess, you have a dick-suck Ivy League education or some equivalent thereof where you ran around with other boys your age a lot sipping fruity drinks and taking it up the ass while learning about dead languages and poets, and you think it makes you smarter than every other whiskey tango fucker you cross on the streets.

[became]

[ give him a second to crack the fuck up, brad. ]

All right, a man of few words that aren't profane— I'll remember than one.

And you're wrong about the first part, but I can't say I don't think I'm smarter than every other 'whiskey tango fucker I cross on the streets'.

[ that last bit in a flawless imitation of brad's crisper tones because he's the worst, just the worst. ]

[makedo]

No Ivy League education in the classics? What, did you study theater?

[ don't tell anyone but brad likes it when people appreciate his insults. they're carefully crafted, after all. though this one was on the harmless side so as not to offend anyone's civilian sensibilities. ]

[became]

I never even graduated high school.

...I did teach a few sessions in various Ivys, though.

[makedo]

[ congratulations, neal, now you have his attention. ]

A few sessions of what?

[became]

Modern American Poetry, a few Art History courses... once I had to pull off guest physics lecturer, but it wasn't my best work.

[makedo]

What was your best work?

[became]

In this arena? Definitely the poetry.

[makedo]

What other areas are there for you?

[became]

Well, I'm certainly not a professor.

[ crook he's a crook ]

[makedo]

No shit.

[ squint squint you are so full of shit neal ]

[became]

What, I don't even get a guess?

[makedo]

You'd get off on the attention.