eachdraidh | A1. video. [ open to both courts ]

[ it doesn't immediately occur to thomas that he could probably just communicate through a text system--as far as he knows, the locket is a lot easier to use by video, and so he does. the network is presented with a pair of big, brown doe eyes before he leans backwards a little, revealing a face that could be rather familiar to some--dark hair, a button nose, moles like spots littering his face.

this is not the man you are looking for, however: this is thomas "murphy", and he clears his throat before he introduces himself. ]

Hi. I'm Thomas Murphy, and I'm--kind of a new arrival. I guess they'd call me a greenie if this was back home. [ there's no hint of humor on his face, but he did actually just try and make a joke, and his tone is a little lighter, for it. ]

Can anyone tell me about the Seelie and Unseelie--in your own words, if that makes any sense? What you know about it...you don't have to tell me any secrets or anything, but, maybe why you're there, I guess. [ he's not going to say which court he is (though it's obvious eventually, by the background of caer scima), but he just needs to know. ] Or, if you're okay with where you are. Not that I'm not, but...I don't know. Is there any reason why someone wouldn't be? They apparently brought us here for a reason-- [ again. ] --since we have these "shards", or whatever they are, but I don't have a lot of trust for anybody who says that, because it's usually a load of klunk.

I guess that's all I've got to ask. [ a beat. ] Actually, that's not true. Is there another map around here? Besides the one they gave me, I mean, it's not very good. [ ... ] No offense.

[ thomas is just going to shut his trap now. he almost physically winces and shakes his head. ] That's it, honestly. I'm just going to... hang up now. Thanks.

[ thomas does hang up, and the feed ends--for all of five seconds, before he snaps it back on. ] Oh, wait--also, I want to know if anyone here's ever heard the phrase "WICKED is good." It has to look like this. [ after a second, there's a typed out phrase that appears instead, with WICKED fully capitalized. ] That's really all this time. Um, thanks.

[ click! for real this time. ]

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I can't believe I have a clone. [ thomas gripes as he starts to get up, pushing himself up to his feet in a less than grateful unfolding of his long limbs--getting up nicely is an art he never really got the chance to practice--and he brushes off his arm where minho swatted him, going to find his own map to tuck in his harness.

it's not until he's folded it and carefully stuck it in one of the holes where the knives were that he turns back around, leaning on the wall and watching minho get ready. he still has like a hundred questions about said clone--said clone was kind of a shank, too--and a hundred questions about drabwurld and why things are the way they are, but expending some energy with minho will help to clear his head--it always does. ]

What kind of shuck luck is that?

Mouthy shank, tell you what. [ Which was weird, because he thought that Thomas was getting smart with someone. But then he'd realized the second voice was coming from the necklace, or whatever it is, and it wasn't the other Glader. Which... he's still kind of weirded out about, actually, but the other guy with Thomas' face is pretty grating.

Easy to differentiate the two of them, he thinks. Thomas was hardly the one to initiate contact, and he's not exactly the most abrasive person on the planet. If anything, he's more likely to fly under most peoples' radars, so long as he's not asking about fifty questions in one breath.

Unrolling his map, only to expertly fold it, he tucks it into his own harness and claps his hands together, once, before rubbing them. ]

Some shuck luck. Let's go, Tommy. [ There's no teasing for his Glader slang, not after dealing with Stiles' own slang. He changed his mind: Thomas using their slang is pretty normal compared to hearing those words out of his mouth. ] Got some exploring to do, especially if we're gonna be prepared for anything in this place.

[ he doesn't disagree--thomas's experience with his "clone" left a bad taste in his mouth, and he's going to try and ignore him for the time being. it seems like it was just a bad coincidence, considering everything that's happened in caer scima compared to what happens at home, but it's definitely not one thomas is fond of, and he can't help but be suspicious over it.

besides, he's kind of glad it's him--he could only imagine what some weird psycho minho clone would be like.

resting his hands in his brown harness, thomas nods and follows after minho to find their way outside into the cool nighttime air. it's beautiful out, and hopefully with a lack of enemies--he stretches a little as minho joins him, tugging on his foot to stretch his quads. ] It's been a while. [ since they've had a good old fashioned run? more like ages. ]

[ Rather than think more about the clone business-- whether for him or for Tommy or literally anyone else, really-- Minho stretches his arms up above his head so that he's one taut line of muscle as he walks. His steps become a little more measured, as if he's stretching while he leads the way outside. It's practiced, from the two years of being the Keeper of the Runners, and it's a habit he's never been able to break.

Once they're outside is when he starts really stretching, seamlessly going from footsteps to a stretch as he extends a leg out, heel sliding so he can do a side lunge stretch one way, then the other. Does he really need to do the whole stretching process when they've spent so much time running in the past couple of weeks? Yes, absolutely.

The final touch, once he's up on his feet properly, is him hooking one arm to pull across his chest with the other as he taps the toes of his boots into the ground. He does the same with the other arm, taps out his other boot, and then turns to look over at Thomas as he drops them to his sides. ] Weeks, man.

[ thomas basically does what he always did; he imitates minho, stretching with him. his arm slides across his chest and he stretches out, feeling the warm burn of his muscles kicking some spring back into his step. yeah, he's been kidnapped (again) and sent to a weird fairy world, but there are positive sides to this. it's all just a balance, something he has to pick up, accept, and carry on his shoulders like he's done all his life.

but, carefully checking his satchel on his back for maps and water, he pushes it back into place and offers minho a small smile, uncharacteristic for his normally stoic face. he's kind of excited. going on a run, no danger, no cranks, nothing, just. running. making maps. the old days. ] Ready when you are.

[ Shifting his weight a little once he finishes stretching, Minho flexes his arms in front of him before he puffs out a sudden, noisy breath. With all of his stretching out of the way, his limbs feel loose and ready and he's prepared to go running, he claps his hands once and rubs them together. Right, they've got plenty of stuff to do-- the continent map is helpful to a point, and he wants to get some scouting done to maybe do up a map of the city they've found themselves in. ]

Prelim run first. Scope out everything, and take it nice and easy. [ Not because they're out of shape because they sure as klunk aren't, but because they really need to familiarize themselves with this place before they get themselves lost or something. ]

A1. video. [ open to both courts ]

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