yoite. 019. video.
[Yeah, someone already had pretty shitty-ass lungs before they showed up here. Yoite has spent a good long while of this week hacking up organs that he wasn't sure he even owned, and it's rather apparent in how hoarse his voice is when he speaks here. His breath wheezes a little, whistling as he breathes carefully and deliberately.]
[He clears his throat one last time and then looks at the camera, sternly. It's hard to do so when he's got his hat jammed so low and he generally looks rather pathetic.]
Food. There has to be some more. I keep finding junk. You have to eat around the mold.
[Fuuuuck, public relations, how does it work.]
Um. Food. Tell me.
[His eyes dart around a little where he's sitting, and he tugs up the collar of his turtleneck around his mouth - harder to breathe through, but maybe it'll... help?? He's at such a loss. He gives the camera one last furrowed eyebrow of a look as if to solidify the command, and then shuts it off.]
[He clears his throat one last time and then looks at the camera, sternly. It's hard to do so when he's got his hat jammed so low and he generally looks rather pathetic.]
Food. There has to be some more. I keep finding junk. You have to eat around the mold.
[Fuuuuck, public relations, how does it work.]
Um. Food. Tell me.
[His eyes dart around a little where he's sitting, and he tugs up the collar of his turtleneck around his mouth - harder to breathe through, but maybe it'll... help?? He's at such a loss. He gives the camera one last furrowed eyebrow of a look as if to solidify the command, and then shuts it off.]