[Accidental video, tyvm Haro.]

[lockon2urheart]

[Lockon is slumped onto his desk, pretty much straight-on at the camera, with his head in his hands. Yes, his ears are flushed bright red. Shut up. His words are a little muffled, but still audible.]

I am just going to lock myself in here and not come out until this is finished. [Groan.] And when it's all over, I'm not going to be able to look anyone in the face for weeks. Especially not...oh god. [Any and all visible face just got, if possible, even redder, and that was an audible swallow.

Still the hands come away from the face, and the camera gets a little wry grin.] I know I always say it's the memory ones that are the worst, but I could really do without these ones too.

[Siiiiigh.] As if my arms weren't sore already. [And reaching over with a somewhat strained, sheepish smile to...pat the camera?] Go on, you get out of here. I'm going to stick with privacy tonight and hope this has worn off by morning.

[and the camera...tilts to the side! And a familiar chirpy metallic voice sounding as concerned as a limited-function robotic AI can sound.] Lockon, frustrated? Lockon, frustrated? Haro help? Haro help?

[Lockon himself raises an eyebrow and cracks up laughing at that.] Nothing you can help me with, Haro, believe me on that. Go play with Feldt for tonight.

Roger! Roger! [and the camera rooooolls off the table and away, shutting off video as it goes.]

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[lockon2urheart]

--This posted?