[ Normally, LLoyd prefers text; it's easier, not to mention quicker given the myriad other things that occupy his time. But as soon as he hears the word 'Taraxa', he knows that he's unlikely to like whatever's coming.
The image Keith sees is the dungeons of Oska castle, AKA the drafty, dingy part of the castle no one likes to be in. The room is small, cramped, and absolutely filled with various folders, storage cases and whirring terminals spouting holographic data in real-time. Lloyd has his communicator on his wrist, and is peering down at Keith. His expression is held almost entirely in the tightness of his jaw and the knot of his brows. His face is silver like the moon, made of flexible plastic, and its eyes are twin black lenses, whirring gently as he focuses his attention. ]
Talk to me, chief. [ Pet names; his only vice. ] What did you find?
video;
The image Keith sees is the dungeons of Oska castle, AKA the drafty, dingy part of the castle no one likes to be in. The room is small, cramped, and absolutely filled with various folders, storage cases and whirring terminals spouting holographic data in real-time. Lloyd has his communicator on his wrist, and is peering down at Keith. His expression is held almost entirely in the tightness of his jaw and the knot of his brows. His face is silver like the moon, made of flexible plastic, and its eyes are twin black lenses, whirring gently as he focuses his attention. ]
Talk to me, chief. [ Pet names; his only vice. ] What did you find?