![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
o3 ✍ sharpe's confusion ✍ video | backdated to January 26th
[ Someone is dressed in clothes that's obviously not his size. His shirt is obviously too big for him and hangs off the side of his shoulder. It's white, and a little dulled and thin from too many washings. The coat he's wearing over the shirt is, on the reverse, a little bit too small for him, the sleeves pulled up tight against his shoulders. The coat is absolutely, completely filthy. It's the kind of coat that you find on a chimney sweep, if chimney sweeps have money to buy coat.
Someone's either thieving from dumpsters or clotheslines or stealing them from beggars. What do you mean, you can buy clothes? Why would you do that when you have free stuff all over the place? Sure, he can pickpocket people, but the easiest targets are in the clinic and he feels bad about stealing from the people who healed him.
Look, just be happy he has a shirt on, okay? He spent like most of the last week half-naked. (He doesn't like charity. Stealing is better than charity, honestly. At least he knows where those things come from.)
The camera spent most of the time stuck onto his shirt before Sharpe tilts it up to his face. Look at his chin! Wait, no, he has it in his face. He stares a little belligerently at the camera for a long moment before he drags a (callused, not very clean hand) through his (sweaty, not very clean) hair. ]
I've got two questions. [ One finger. ] Who knows a man named 'Richard Sharpe'?
[ Two fingers. ]
D'ya think anyone can change their class? Move up the ranks, so ta speak. A rat becoming a gentleman. Summat of that sort.
[ This is important, okay? He knows about his future self (one gets very, very bored on a hospital bed, and he has this tablet thing in his hand), and future Richard Sharpe calls himself a Major. That's puzzling, that's what he is. He doesn't know how he even gets promoted in the first place to Ensign, much less a goddamned Major, commanding entire divisions and maybe even regiments. He's a streetborn rat joining the army to avoid two consecutive murder charges. What the hell? ]
Someone's either thieving from dumpsters or clotheslines or stealing them from beggars. What do you mean, you can buy clothes? Why would you do that when you have free stuff all over the place? Sure, he can pickpocket people, but the easiest targets are in the clinic and he feels bad about stealing from the people who healed him.
Look, just be happy he has a shirt on, okay? He spent like most of the last week half-naked. (He doesn't like charity. Stealing is better than charity, honestly. At least he knows where those things come from.)
The camera spent most of the time stuck onto his shirt before Sharpe tilts it up to his face. Look at his chin! Wait, no, he has it in his face. He stares a little belligerently at the camera for a long moment before he drags a (callused, not very clean hand) through his (sweaty, not very clean) hair. ]
I've got two questions. [ One finger. ] Who knows a man named 'Richard Sharpe'?
[ Two fingers. ]
D'ya think anyone can change their class? Move up the ranks, so ta speak. A rat becoming a gentleman. Summat of that sort.
[ This is important, okay? He knows about his future self (one gets very, very bored on a hospital bed, and he has this tablet thing in his hand), and future Richard Sharpe calls himself a Major. That's puzzling, that's what he is. He doesn't know how he even gets promoted in the first place to Ensign, much less a goddamned Major, commanding entire divisions and maybe even regiments. He's a streetborn rat joining the army to avoid two consecutive murder charges. What the hell? ]
no subject
I'm a soldier, lad. None of us smell good. Gunpowder's do that ta you.
no subject
[ He actually kinda likes that smell, but he can also acknowledge that he's maybe got a few fucked up issues surrounding guns and any smells they might make. ]
no subject
[ Old-style gunpowder, Jason. ]
no subject
[ Don't judge his life choices, Sharpe. ]
no subject
I know nowt 'bout that.
no subject
[ It's funny how Jason's overtures of friendship are about the same as his threats. ]
no subject
Now Jason just gets an eyebrow. ]
Aye? And what'd you be shooting at?
no subject
At least not on a public connection. ]
Targets.
They probably gotta shooting range in the Hold.
no subject
He chuckles at that. ]
Probably, aye. [ Beat. ] So you'd bring this gun of yers, and I'll bring me musket, eh?