@Bourgeoisie@EurmalEye@Diggerton@LeonVonNot wanting to fall behind Lancer quickly fell in step with the group as they made their way around the decrepit mansion-he was only half listening as the elderly man now known as Orion went on to answer the idiotic questions of “Ms. Shepard”:
honestly, had the woman never opened a book on the occult? Her idea of the supernatural was probably sparkly vampires he finally decided. Poor old man Orion had been in the middle of explaining that there was some idiotic supervisor (there was always an idiotic supervisor) or something above him that dissaproved of destroying bones as a means to end a haunting.
Damn ghost huggers.He was on the verge of voicing this (and several other) opinions when the heavens themselves roared with metalic death-no doubt the work of some Cthullu type entity finally breaking into this world to devour the souls of every living thing. He readied himself for death.
Then he realized it was just a helicopter.
Peculiar, very peculiar Lancer found himself thinking as Orion explained that the pilot must indeed have been his now missing companion known as Wilfred. Not only was Lancer shocked at the ease of which Wilfred had made himself vanish but the speed at which he had also been able to leave and pilot the chopper. Yes, he was an odd one allright-and if there was one thing Lancer knew it was the odd and peculiar.
Orion went on to explain some of the more specifics of the giant flying hunk of metal, facts which completely held no interest for Lancer. Instead he took this moment to slide his bandaged hand into the front pocket of his beige overcoat; he'd noticed Ms. Shepard staring at it earlier in that awkward
“Im really trying hard not to look but I just fucking glanced at it again” sort of way he was so used to. He wouldn't have given a damn if it wasn't for the fact that the rotten appendage would start to itch like the dickens-as if it knew it had someone elses attention and wanted to come out and say
“Hi” (Or, as Lancer was aware, more likely throttle them.) For now he simply pocketed the dead thing and ignored it.
Wheezy was the next to waste poor old man Orions time by opening his mouth and rasping out a question about where a military helicopter came from.
One would suppose the military Lancer mentally roared while biting his tongue. Then before he knew it he was doing that horrible habit he had where he talked
“Im assuming, and this is just a huge and vastly wild guess, but I believe they may have procured this mechanical monster through military means? Perhaps even a rogue black ops off the book type dealing? Either way, my feeble minded friend, money does talk. I will grant you it is rather hard to make the connections between the words “military” and “military helicopter”, especially with that huge monoply Walmart has in the industrial war helicopter market and all.” The cascade of over the top flamboyant insults culminated in the final sentence being said in a rather sarcastic tone, the effect of which was amplified by the fact he had said everything all in one breathe-his words straining under the frantic pace of his voice trying to get everything in his mind out before he finally had to breathe in.
More surprising then this somewhat brutal over assessment to Adrians simple question was the fact that Lancer just kept walking to the helicopter-as if he didn't care about the course of the actual conversation and had simply stated his two cents. He especially didn't look like he even expected to be talked back too. Social graces were clearly lost on the man.
Using his one good hand he pulled his way into the helicopter and quickly found a seat. Fumbling for a moment with the headset handed to him he finally had the damned thing affixed properly to his shaved head after a brief one handed struggle. He wasn't surprised at all to look across from his seat and see Ms. Shepard fiddling away with one of those ever so popular tablet devices. He scoffed openly,
could she really not go this long without checking facebook? Or perhaps it was angry birds? He said nothing but was glaring daggers at the woman across from him. He really needed a cup of coffee