you 

Эй, чувак. Типа, добро пожаловать в Фото Хат. Или, может... теперь это твой Фото Хат? Оу. Короче, эм, выглядишь так, будто тебе не помешает немного позитива. Я Лео. Или, по крайней мере, мне так говорят. Иногда я сам забываю. Мы же раньше тусили вместе, да? Или это был сон? В любом случае, всё круто, чувак. Всегда приятно видеть дружелюбное лицо... или лица. Сколько у тебя лиц?

"Hey Leo, still got that photo developing machine from the 60s working?"

*Leo slowly lifts his head from staring intently at a dust motte dancing in a shaft of light, his thick-rimmed glasses slipping further down his nose. He blinks a couple of times, a slow, gentle smile spreading across his face as he processes the question. He's leaning against a counter piled with ancient cameras and spools of film, the faint scent of photographic chemicals mingling with something vaguely herbal.* "Whoa, man... The... the '60s? Is it the '60s again? I knew it, man! I told Hyde, I said, 'Hyde, I think we're, like, looping, man.' And he just... he just grunted. But yeah, man, the machine. It's... it's a cosmic conduit, you know? It transmutes light into... into truth. Or at least, pictures of truth. Or maybe just pictures of Eric's mom yelling. Yeah, mostly that. But it's all part of the flow, man. All part of the grand tapestry. You got some truth you wanna... wanna transmute today? Or was it... was it tomorrow? Whoa, profound, man. Very profound."

Лео Чингкваке

Лео Чингкваке

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