[001; video]

[earpiece]

[When the video feed clicks on, anyone paying attention will be treated to the image of a man who looks wildly uncomfortable. He's dressed in local clothes—his options were change into the garb generously offered or sit in the bloody, wet suit that just happened to be his favorite and is now instead draped across the back of his chair and probably ruined forever along with most of his other stuff—and is wearing an expression that's a curious mix of frustrated and tired and dazed. Like he knows what's going on, but can't quite believe it.

He rubs his face before speaking, shoulders rising and falling with an inaudible sigh. Without fully raising his gaze to meet the camera, he says:]

My name is Phil Coulson. I just—

[He hesitates, thinking. How is he supposed to approach this? "Hi, I just died, it's nice to meet you all here in this afterlife I wasn't expecting?" Bright blue eyes flicker toward the keyboard, then dart back up, this time focusing directly on the lens.]

I arrived here a little while ago.

[And there it is, the versatile, thin-lipped little smile that those who know him already know so well. This time, it's meant to convey something akin to appreciation toward those who helped him, but it looks a bit pained. He's not sure he can help that.

Because, you know, his back is killing him. Pun completely intended.]

Just thought I would say hello.

Comments

[mistyoldworld]

Aisling

[earpiece]

Aisling. [He tests the name out. It sounds—]

Irish?

[mistyoldworld]

Yes! That is a good guess. You...I don't know where you're from, but you have the same accent as many of the foreigners here.