[Alright, he owes Albert video. Or... he thinks he does. He's pretty sure he owes Albert something or other.
He flicks on the video, and actually, he doesn't look too bad. He's sitting on a bed in the inn, back in his nerdy collared shirt and sweater vest outfit. The earrings have been removed (though the holes need more time to heal), he doesn't have tattoos readily visible with his clothes on, and the only indicator of physical injury is the bandaging around his wrist. He's currently mobbed by Pokemon--Flora is cradled in the crook of his arm since she would be on his head otherwise, Elle is sitting in his lap and pawing at him when he stops petting her, and both Yang and Nate lie at his feet while Missy flies in circles around his head like a gray satellite. There's another PokeBall besides on the bedside table, but Reid doesn't acknowledge it.
The only concerning things are that he looks tired, pale, and disoriented (possibly because he's on the tail end of being high--his eyes are still bloodshot). And he won't stop tugging at his bandaging without noticing he's doing it.]
I... actually, I think that it wore off on its own. I think that the mask just reemerged from my face and fell off, and then I was me again. [He covers his mouth and breaks into a coughing fit. Damn it, Amanda. You gave him bronchitis.] I wasn't even totally... I-I guess some part of me was vaguely aware that things weren't what they should have been, but I was pretty out of it for the last two days.
[Also, he sees that cigarette. And he's not a profiler for nothing. He hasn't seen Albert smoke much, if at all, the whole time he's been here, so something must have triggered a stress response.]
[video; | private]
He flicks on the video, and actually, he doesn't look too bad. He's sitting on a bed in the inn, back in his nerdy collared shirt and sweater vest outfit. The earrings have been removed (though the holes need more time to heal), he doesn't have tattoos readily visible with his clothes on, and the only indicator of physical injury is the bandaging around his wrist. He's currently mobbed by Pokemon--Flora is cradled in the crook of his arm since she would be on his head otherwise, Elle is sitting in his lap and pawing at him when he stops petting her, and both Yang and Nate lie at his feet while Missy flies in circles around his head like a gray satellite. There's another PokeBall besides on the bedside table, but Reid doesn't acknowledge it.
The only concerning things are that he looks tired, pale, and disoriented (possibly because he's on the tail end of being high--his eyes are still bloodshot). And he won't stop tugging at his bandaging without noticing he's doing it.]
I... actually, I think that it wore off on its own. I think that the mask just reemerged from my face and fell off, and then I was me again. [He covers his mouth and breaks into a coughing fit. Damn it, Amanda. You gave him bronchitis.] I wasn't even totally... I-I guess some part of me was vaguely aware that things weren't what they should have been, but I was pretty out of it for the last two days.
[Also, he sees that cigarette. And he's not a profiler for nothing. He hasn't seen Albert smoke much, if at all, the whole time he's been here, so something must have triggered a stress response.]