001 // [video] // this isn't rapture
[When the screen turns on, you can barely make out what you are looking at. The picture is too dark, too grainy. There seems to be sound, though. You can hear someone rustling with the recorder, and an irritated, little huff as whomever is out there realises that what he or she is doing to the recorder is not exactly making things better.
After a little while, the picture's brightness is turned up, and a man steps into the frame. He looks to be in his early or mid forties, of average height, sporting a little potbelly that looks oddly out of place on his scrawny body. With his dark brown suit and black dress shoes, it looks as if he just stepped out of a company meeting. Well, disregarding the tears in his suit, at least, and the way his toes are almost coming out of the front of his shoes -- but we won't tell that to him.
The room in the background is Spartan, almost clinically clean, and contains only the absolute necessities: a bed, an empty closet and a desk with a little chair.]
Ah, here we are. Hello? Hello?
[With a soft sigh, he reaches up to adjust the angle of the screen, muttering a curse under his breath. After fiddling around a bit, he moves back into view.]
I... I apologise in advance for any technical mistakes that might occur, but I am... well, new to this place, where ever and whatever it is. I hope that someone will hear this, because... because I need to talk to someone -- anyone.
I need to know how I can get home. I have business to attend to, projects that need completion -- I can't just... abandon them!
[There is a long, awkward silence.]
On that cheery note, assuming that someone will hear this...
[He clears his throat, pondering if what he is about to ask will be inappropriate, given the situation.]
Does any of you know if there is a kitchen around here? Believe me, I am not normally the man to drink, but I need something to soothe my nerves.
After a little while, the picture's brightness is turned up, and a man steps into the frame. He looks to be in his early or mid forties, of average height, sporting a little potbelly that looks oddly out of place on his scrawny body. With his dark brown suit and black dress shoes, it looks as if he just stepped out of a company meeting. Well, disregarding the tears in his suit, at least, and the way his toes are almost coming out of the front of his shoes -- but we won't tell that to him.
The room in the background is Spartan, almost clinically clean, and contains only the absolute necessities: a bed, an empty closet and a desk with a little chair.]
Ah, here we are. Hello? Hello?
[With a soft sigh, he reaches up to adjust the angle of the screen, muttering a curse under his breath. After fiddling around a bit, he moves back into view.]
I... I apologise in advance for any technical mistakes that might occur, but I am... well, new to this place, where ever and whatever it is. I hope that someone will hear this, because... because I need to talk to someone -- anyone.
I need to know how I can get home. I have business to attend to, projects that need completion -- I can't just... abandon them!
[There is a long, awkward silence.]
On that cheery note, assuming that someone will hear this...
[He clears his throat, pondering if what he is about to ask will be inappropriate, given the situation.]
Does any of you know if there is a kitchen around here? Believe me, I am not normally the man to drink, but I need something to soothe my nerves.