[It's like that expression, about how you can't unring a bell - one minute, Micah is the same as he's always been, and the next, nothing is the same. Everything changes when you realize you're one of the Numbered, and no amount of wishing you'd ignored that stupid set of numbers instead of typing them into your phone will restore you to your former self.
He's not stupid. It doesn't take a genius to puzzle out what the sudden appearance of this overwhelming database of information signifies; it's certainly not some hidden phone app he's just unlocked. Micah takes his time scrolling through, reading, watching, processing information as best he can. There's a lot to sort through, and he's exhausted by the time he decides he's had enough, brain overly full to bursting. He could almost laugh at the absurdity of it all, but he doesn't. This isn't actually funny. Not at all.
He could try to hide this, of course. But somehow, something as significant as this bound to come out, and anyway, hiding has never really been Micah's style. He'd much rather meet this challenge head-on.
Micah doesn't hide his face, doesn't tilt the camera away from the scar that covers the left side. His chin tips up to whoever's watching, a nonverbal dare, see me, acknowledge me. Then, he speaks:]
So. I guess I'm one of you now. [He smiles, thin, grim. It's not a sort of belonging that pleases him, not at all, and it comes out in the tautness of his voice, the flicker of anger behind the sharpness of his gaze.] Where do I go to pick up my membership card?
micah kelly (mello; death note) | option d; network
He's not stupid. It doesn't take a genius to puzzle out what the sudden appearance of this overwhelming database of information signifies; it's certainly not some hidden phone app he's just unlocked. Micah takes his time scrolling through, reading, watching, processing information as best he can. There's a lot to sort through, and he's exhausted by the time he decides he's had enough, brain overly full to bursting. He could almost laugh at the absurdity of it all, but he doesn't. This isn't actually funny. Not at all.
He could try to hide this, of course. But somehow, something as significant as this bound to come out, and anyway, hiding has never really been Micah's style. He'd much rather meet this challenge head-on.
Micah doesn't hide his face, doesn't tilt the camera away from the scar that covers the left side. His chin tips up to whoever's watching, a nonverbal dare, see me, acknowledge me. Then, he speaks:]
So. I guess I'm one of you now. [He smiles, thin, grim. It's not a sort of belonging that pleases him, not at all, and it comes out in the tautness of his voice, the flicker of anger behind the sharpness of his gaze.] Where do I go to pick up my membership card?