[The actual numbers don't make it through Leon's surprise at the situation right away. What the hell . . . that was pretty impressive. What's with everyone having powers, anyway? He never used to feel "left out" over it before, but the more people he gets to know, the more he feels like the only one who can't magic water, summon demons, disintegrate things, hear people's emotions with his super special hearing, or—whatever this dude just did to that keypad. That was awesome! He got the numbers 1, 3, 7—
Wwwwwwait a second.
As soon as his brain catches up to that, his expression goes from mildly awed and hopeful to tight-lipped and pale, his eyes hard. CERES, you pieces of shit. You fucking assholes.
Maybe it's not. It doesn't have to be like that, right? What are the odds of him finding this thing and that being the code? No, he knows better: they can probably do something to make it like that. Remote control it. Read it off his mind and upload it straight into the lock. Mosley had shoved him down here, so—
This is stupid.
He brushes past magical code guy and up to the keypad, muttering to himself, though tense and too-loud enough to be easily heard:]
Are you fuckin' kidding me . . . ?
[And then walks up to the keypad and punches in]
11037
[ . . . Wait. The guy had said one more missing. Oops? Was it supposed to be 1137? 1037? Or was this all just screwing with his head and it's none of the above?
Well, he already put it in. He hunches up, tense, waiting to see if anything happens.]
. . . If it's four numbers it might be . . . forget it, I dunno.
no subject
Wwwwwwait a second.
As soon as his brain catches up to that, his expression goes from mildly awed and hopeful to tight-lipped and pale, his eyes hard. CERES, you pieces of shit. You fucking assholes.
Maybe it's not. It doesn't have to be like that, right? What are the odds of him finding this thing and that being the code? No, he knows better: they can probably do something to make it like that. Remote control it. Read it off his mind and upload it straight into the lock. Mosley had shoved him down here, so—
This is stupid.
He brushes past magical code guy and up to the keypad, muttering to himself, though tense and too-loud enough to be easily heard:]
Are you fuckin' kidding me . . . ?
[And then walks up to the keypad and punches in]
11037
[ . . . Wait. The guy had said one more missing. Oops? Was it supposed to be 1137? 1037? Or was this all just screwing with his head and it's none of the above?
Well, he already put it in. He hunches up, tense, waiting to see if anything happens.]
. . . If it's four numbers it might be . . . forget it, I dunno.