[Mello stares at the terminal like it's committed some grave transgression against him. His hands, which are hovering over his collar, are trembling lightly from barely-concealed anger. Anger at being held captive, anger at being collared up like a dog, anger at not knowing whether or not to trust this secondhand information from a complete stranger, but a stranger who's been here longer than he has.
Anger at the hopelessness he's starting to feel.]
Yeah, well, let's hope this is an illusion.
[Mello pauses for a minute, and it's a pregnant pause, as a million different things fight for attention in his mind. None of those thoughts make it to his mouth, however, and instead, he sits up from the terminal in a way that makes the chair slide noisily over the floor.]
I gotta go. I have some thinking to do.
[And he flicks off the voice feed without waiting for a response.]
voice
Anger at the hopelessness he's starting to feel.]
Yeah, well, let's hope this is an illusion.
[Mello pauses for a minute, and it's a pregnant pause, as a million different things fight for attention in his mind. None of those thoughts make it to his mouth, however, and instead, he sits up from the terminal in a way that makes the chair slide noisily over the floor.]
I gotta go. I have some thinking to do.
[And he flicks off the voice feed without waiting for a response.]