[Ah. Well, at least he's no longer doing his unsettling routine of ripping his entire face off, so Lenka manages to look up to check on not-quite-Lance and finds him -- in the midst of taking quite possibly the worst selfie ever, because there's probably still a little skin hanging off, strips of petoskey stone gleaming poisonously in the light.

He doesn't really want to know what else is on that phone either. But not-quite-Lance's selfie skills are way too speedy for him to really register how to escape before he's been tugged straight into it, protesting and making faces all the way.

(I guess what we're saying here is that Zance is becoming a walking selfie stick.)]

Uh, Lance-- I don't think-- [is it cursed to be in a photograph with the dead, because it sure feels that way right now] I didn't mean right now.

[It's a little bit petulant. He's not used to taking pictures in the first place, much less being ambushed with them.]