First Memory - radio / open rl for those in Quarantine
[The new man in quarantine is quiet. Not frightened- there are no nervous tics or glances, everything is controlled. But rather than yell or moan he has drawn into himself, sitting slightly hunched over with his back to the wall.
A while ago he started turning his radio about in his hands. It's not the examination that someone unfamiliar with the technology would give, he appears to be trying to decide what to do with it. Every so often he'll look up from that to examine the hallway.
Eventually, he reaches a decision, and turns the radio on.]
Under whose authority am I being detained?
[His voice is pitched to carry, the rough edge to it the first hint he might be angry at this situation.]
A while ago he started turning his radio about in his hands. It's not the examination that someone unfamiliar with the technology would give, he appears to be trying to decide what to do with it. Every so often he'll look up from that to examine the hallway.
Eventually, he reaches a decision, and turns the radio on.]
Under whose authority am I being detained?
[His voice is pitched to carry, the rough edge to it the first hint he might be angry at this situation.]