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[Have you missed this familiar mop of white hair, Nesreca? Here, in the center of the feed is one (1) Allen Walker sitting on what appears to be the edge of a wall. Or, perhaps it is the rooftop of a random building. Wherever it is, there is the impression that it is up high -- the better to try and see where he is.
He thinks he recognizes a few landmarks -- Russia? -- but ... it's still all wrong.
At any rate, there isn't anything terribly strange about him. Perhaps in the way that his hair is a little too long (held back in a tuft of a ponytail) or how he sits a little too straight even for Allen.
-- at least until he centers the feed a little more, and his coat comes into view. Anyone who is an Exorcist would be able to recognize the General's emblem.
Thoughtful, soft. More to himself, even if he's peering intently into the feed.]
[Well, he wouldn't expect anything less, really. Until, you know, he happens to find out what you really are.
Right now, though, the jacket's caught his curiosity.]
Whatever. What's with the jacket and where the hell are you? And what happened to the mark on your face? [Because he sure was talking to Lang!Allen until a few minutes ago.]
He thinks he recognizes a few landmarks -- Russia? -- but ... it's still all wrong.
At any rate, there isn't anything terribly strange about him. Perhaps in the way that his hair is a little too long (held back in a tuft of a ponytail) or how he sits a little too straight even for Allen.
-- at least until he centers the feed a little more, and his coat comes into view. Anyone who is an Exorcist would be able to recognize the General's emblem.
Thoughtful, soft. More to himself, even if he's peering intently into the feed.]
Certainly, I'm not the only one here.
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[What why are you wearing a...jacket like that.
Wait this is a completely different Allen, isn't it? WHAT THE HELL, LIBITINA.]
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Allen.
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Right now, though, the jacket's caught his curiosity.]
Whatever. What's with the jacket and where the hell are you? And what happened to the mark on your face? [Because he sure was talking to Lang!Allen until a few minutes ago.]
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He tugs the coat a little more tightly around himself with the hand not holding the communicator, and narrows his eyes a little.]
It's warm. [Also, mine. What's it to you?
Though his hand does come up to cover the (normal) scar on his left cheek.] It hasn't gone anywhere, if that's what you're asking.
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... 8|] No shit it's warm, they were made to be that way. [Gawd.]
[Frowning a bit and s q u i n t i n g. There's definitely no 'x' there. Right, that...alternate crap he was just thinking about.]
Whatever, forget it. [Paause.] Where are you?
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And ignoring that. Because that squinting is more than just a little distracting.]
Can I help you? [. . . you're acting strange.] On a rooftop.
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Oh deal with it, big baby. Scoffing at.]
Fine. [And this would be Kanda grabbing his coat as if he were just about to go out. He's coming for you, Dual~]
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Also, totally no idea who you are, (he's not kanda) but he just feels like saying:]
That's right. You're not the only one here.
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... in the polite way that Allen is known for.
Except.
You're not Kanda.
Oh.]
I don't suppose you'd know who else is here, then?
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Why all of you mistake him for Kanda.
He doesn't look (except he does) like Kanda.
And he doesn't even know who's Kanda!]
Sorry, but I don't.
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... Allen?
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Okay, so there may have been no amount of wtfery to accommodate for this. This is a face that Allen hasn't seen in so long.]
Alma?
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[Okay, just to make sure.] Do you remember this place?
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