Re: log: dylan & max (daniel & lin too)
[Daniel shifted uncomfortably under Dylan's assessing stare. He could dish it out, but he couldn't take it--at least not sober. Sober, Daniel had a distant and accurate picture of how he looked to everybody that wasn't himself, and while he wasn't exactly ashamed, he was embarrassed, on some level. Daniel liked to pretend that he didn't give a fuck, but there was a reason that he intimidated people on paper: in person, he was less than impressive. He was not a large or tall man, and the fun habits had pared much of him down to bones and soft flesh. The flush of bruising was mostly gone, and he simply looked collapsed and unimpressive on his rough pillows. He pulled at his curls behind his right ear in a very uncharacteristic gesture of uncertainty.]
[Max said 'an apron' and Daniel said 'an apron?' in the exact same tone. More petty enjoyment slid leisurely across his face.]
[Daniel had heard about this whole government shit, but not so much the brain re-start. He frowned, not a scowl or a sneer, but an actual frown. Bad things happening to Dylan's brain would not be immediately obvious except upon a prolonged and interrogative interview in which Daniel quizzed him about anything remotely gossip-worthy in his life. A real light of hope lit Daniel's face when Dylan suggested that he might be getting out of there soon. It was rather pathetic, really.
Daniel assumed that everyone was joking about the casino thing.] The cameras don't have microphones. And I can pay my own fucking hospital bill. [He shot Max a look of pure resentment and looked at Lin expectantly for help.]