It's a cold and dreary evening in Transylvania, but Ed isn't paying much attention at all to this fact. He's bundled up warm in a heavy coat, and sitting in the train station, watching the trains go by
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Presently, one of the trains stops. The passengers disembark, collect their luggage and disappear into the Transylvanian gloom, eager to get out of the rain and dark
( ... )
Ed's looking away, when the match illuminates the man's face; this is probably a good thing. If he were to see who this person was, he probably wouldn't be able to restrain himself; he'd forget all about the fact this is a world of familiar faces, and possibly embarass himself with some form of yelling.
But he observes him soon enough.
First impression? This guy is probably a bit full of himself. He's also probably not the healthiest person in the world; Ed has to cough into his hand just from the sight of the smoke.
The cough isn't lost on the figure; it only makes him take a deeper inhalation and blow it out slowly. He, too, is watching, in particular watching Ed. Maybe this kid'll know where he can find the person he's looking for. A second cigarette is produced and lit before the man walks toward Ed, a distinct swagger in his gait and a determined look in his blue-black eyes.
'Pardon me, stranger,' he says, holding his smoldering cigarette between two fingers. The voice has an American accent. 'The name's Mustang. I'm wondering if you can help me... find someone.'
The combination of the entire picture was enough to startle any of the earliest possible reactions out of Ed; it was quite clear that this was not the Roy that he knew, and all Ed can really manage at the moment is to stare up at him.
When he finally manages to speak? It's not exactly what this guy is looking for.
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But he observes him soon enough.
First impression? This guy is probably a bit full of himself. He's also probably not the healthiest person in the world; Ed has to cough into his hand just from the sight of the smoke.
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'Pardon me, stranger,' he says, holding his smoldering cigarette between two fingers. The voice has an American accent. 'The name's Mustang. I'm wondering if you can help me... find someone.'
He takes another drag.
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You have got to be kidding.
The combination of the entire picture was enough to startle any of the earliest possible reactions out of Ed; it was quite clear that this was not the Roy that he knew, and all Ed can really manage at the moment is to stare up at him.
When he finally manages to speak? It's not exactly what this guy is looking for.
"What the fuck?"
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