[A laugh punches out of him, and he feels guilty for it — poor kid, he can only imagine what it's like, coming back to a living body that apparently hasn't been kept up to par. Jesus. Edward must be a hyperactive mess, making sure his brother's doing alright. But holy crap, they really did it, huh? He should have known if anyone could, it'd be those two. They have a real light about them — he saw it, and he's sure everyone else did and does, too.]

Maybe best to put him in the armor until he's better, huh?

[Damn, this all ended better than he anticipated.

He clears his throat.]

We should probably sit down, take a load off our feet. I've been spending the last few hours scavenging a ship for usable parts; it's a real jungle in there as much as it is out here.

[The ship is a hot mess, buddy.

You can tell Hughes has been particularly active, what with the oil smear on his cheek and the little cut on his forehead, like he went and bumped into something sharp (cough busted ship panels cough). Not to mention, he's got a little more scruff than even usual, bangs trying to sneak out of the slicked-back look he usually has.

Working hard for that non-existent money.]