( It's strange to see the way that binder page thwaps against the glass without making any discernible sound; it looks like it made one. This glass isn't fucking around, apparently. Unlike the guy behind it, intent on playing a game of fucking charades about it.
Yeah, he gets it, keypad, passcode, thumbs up, sure — except there's just one problem. )
There's no-
( He starts; stops, visibly frustrated — only to start quickly groping around in his pockets for his cellphone. There's no service here, but there's a god damn notes app.
He taps a message quickly on the touch screen, and then presses the display up against the glass by Clint's face. )
There is no keypad here
( Which is a message he probably could've spared them both, because he reads in tandem with Clint, his eyes tracking over the binder page, past the symbols, to the instructions beyond them.
Around back. His face twists in incredulity; what kind of god damn sense does it make to put the security code box around back behind the building?
The phone slides away from the glass for a second message quickly tapped out and held up for only a moment. )
Sit tight
( Followed by the snap and flash of the phone camera. No way in hell was he gonna remember those symbols or those instructions without a little something, and he can't exactly write the shit down on sodden clumps of deteriorating legal pad paper.
In any case, that's all Clint gets before his maybe-savior is completely gone from the building again, abandoning him to sternum-deep waters.
That's when the bodies begin to float to the surface. )
no subject
Yeah, he gets it, keypad, passcode, thumbs up, sure — except there's just one problem. )
There's no-
( He starts; stops, visibly frustrated — only to start quickly groping around in his pockets for his cellphone. There's no service here, but there's a god damn notes app.
He taps a message quickly on the touch screen, and then presses the display up against the glass by Clint's face. )
There is no keypad here
( Which is a message he probably could've spared them both, because he reads in tandem with Clint, his eyes tracking over the binder page, past the symbols, to the instructions beyond them.
Around back. His face twists in incredulity; what kind of god damn sense does it make to put the security code box around back behind the building?
The phone slides away from the glass for a second message quickly tapped out and held up for only a moment. )
Sit tight
( Followed by the snap and flash of the phone camera. No way in hell was he gonna remember those symbols or those instructions without a little something, and he can't exactly write the shit down on sodden clumps of deteriorating legal pad paper.
In any case, that's all Clint gets before his maybe-savior is completely gone from the building again, abandoning him to sternum-deep waters.
That's when the bodies begin to float to the surface. )