Spencer Reid (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
leftinbasketforfbi) wrote2012-10-25 03:30 pm
leftinbasketforfbi) wrote2012-10-25 03:30 pm
5th ⥌ Video/Action for Violet City ⥍
[For those who know him, it should be pretty damn clear that Reid is not as he should be right now.
He's dressed in jeans, a cigarette nearly burned to the filter is held between his lips, studs are in his ears (when he definitely didn't have them pierced before), and his entire body is in a very hostile stance, his arms crossed over his chest and his chin tilted up defiantly. In honesty, it'd be pretty easy to mistake him for a teenager. A very angsty, rebel-without-a-cause teenager.
But worse than all that, his eyes are bloodshot, his pupils unnaturally dilated, and his arms occasionally shaking with tremors. He's high as a kite.
His Misdreavus and Munna are both flying around his head screeching as he turns on the 'Gear. They're outside in the fog, ghost Pokemon flitting in the mist.
Before he even acknowledges the 'Gear, he carefully takes the cigarette out of his mouth, blowing out a plume of smoke before dropping it to the ground, and then he lashes out at the Pokemon around him. He gives one solid swing of his fist, sending a squealing Munna flying out of view, and the Misdreavus screeches again before flying after her.] Will you just shut up?!
[Reid looks at the 'Gear again, scowling, and every muscle in his body tenses, like he's getting ready for a fistfight.] Okay, Mark, I know you're listening because you could never keep your goddamn nose out of my business, so I'm telling you right now--I'm going to get a bat, hunt you down, and bust your fucking kneecaps. Whip out your stupid Pokemon all you like--I'll just whip out mine.
[He takes out a pack of cigarettes--already half empty--from his pocket and pulls one out, lighting up with trembling hands and then taking a drag. He lets out a horrible cough, his lungs struggling to go from being smoke-free to chain-smoking.] And I don't know what you did to take my body mods, but I'm telling you right now, you're going to fucking feel that.
[Yang the Absol lopes through the fog, crouching by Reid and biting his pant leg, trying to tug him desperately, but Reid just kicks him away without even looking, which is quickly followed by a wince and a growl, his hand instinctively going to his knee.] And whoever else is watching this, I need Repel and painkillers. These fucking Pokemon won't stop bugging me, and someone seriously screwed up my leg.
[Guess who's been possessed by a Yamask?]
He's dressed in jeans, a cigarette nearly burned to the filter is held between his lips, studs are in his ears (when he definitely didn't have them pierced before), and his entire body is in a very hostile stance, his arms crossed over his chest and his chin tilted up defiantly. In honesty, it'd be pretty easy to mistake him for a teenager. A very angsty, rebel-without-a-cause teenager.
But worse than all that, his eyes are bloodshot, his pupils unnaturally dilated, and his arms occasionally shaking with tremors. He's high as a kite.
His Misdreavus and Munna are both flying around his head screeching as he turns on the 'Gear. They're outside in the fog, ghost Pokemon flitting in the mist.
Before he even acknowledges the 'Gear, he carefully takes the cigarette out of his mouth, blowing out a plume of smoke before dropping it to the ground, and then he lashes out at the Pokemon around him. He gives one solid swing of his fist, sending a squealing Munna flying out of view, and the Misdreavus screeches again before flying after her.] Will you just shut up?!
[Reid looks at the 'Gear again, scowling, and every muscle in his body tenses, like he's getting ready for a fistfight.] Okay, Mark, I know you're listening because you could never keep your goddamn nose out of my business, so I'm telling you right now--I'm going to get a bat, hunt you down, and bust your fucking kneecaps. Whip out your stupid Pokemon all you like--I'll just whip out mine.
[He takes out a pack of cigarettes--already half empty--from his pocket and pulls one out, lighting up with trembling hands and then taking a drag. He lets out a horrible cough, his lungs struggling to go from being smoke-free to chain-smoking.] And I don't know what you did to take my body mods, but I'm telling you right now, you're going to fucking feel that.
[Yang the Absol lopes through the fog, crouching by Reid and biting his pant leg, trying to tug him desperately, but Reid just kicks him away without even looking, which is quickly followed by a wince and a growl, his hand instinctively going to his knee.] And whoever else is watching this, I need Repel and painkillers. These fucking Pokemon won't stop bugging me, and someone seriously screwed up my leg.
[Guess who's been possessed by a Yamask?]