(no subject)

[captainviscen.livejournal.com]

There's a frazzled Captain sitting at a table with a few sheets of paper and a pencil, kindly provided by the bar.

He is, through the use of, shall we say, abstract art, attempting to calculate how many standard-issue Termina bombs it would take to blow an angry moon back into space.

Obviously his grasp of physics is not very good, although he has made a note to the side about 'looking into powder kegs'.

Every now and again he huffs in irritation and sips out of a  tall glass of milk.

Botherable, especially if you have an opinion about explosives.