{ 007 - Video }
[ The Forge starts up and the first thing the audience is permitted to see is Priscilla sitting upon a bed that's not her own. Books surround her, some opened and some closed, her nose crinkled slightly in an expression of marked concentration. There is a soft chuckle from the other side of the camera. Isley is immediately visible the moment the device is turned around. His smile is natural, but short-lived. It's time to get down to business. ]
[ Turning away from Priscilla, Isley takes a seat at his desk and sets down the Forge. ]
[ A thick, hardcover book is dragged off the top of a pile next to him and opened up to a page that is marked about three quarters of the way through. A long, slender finger traces the text on the page. When he finds what he is looking for he taps it once and then returns his gaze to the Forge. ]
I have been doing a great deal of studying these past weeks. Architecture, biographies, folklore, and history...the library is truly a marvelous way to occupy one's spare time.
While sifting through the collection there, I recently uncovered a book transcribed by a long-gone linguist Scorched. This book in particular stands out from the rest...because it is a documented account of old arrivals through the Door. There are hundreds of dates, names and times of arrival. The activity of the Door, however ordinary or out of the ordinary for it, was also documented along with each arrival.
When I came upon this...I wondered to myself why no one thought to continue this research. After having read it, I have found myself enthralled.
Even more fascinating are the documented disappearances. Some seem to follow distinct patterns as they do here and now. Others are seemingly random. Few appear to be accidental, however. If that is the case, how can they be unsystematic? How can any of it be unplanned?
[ He leans back in his chair, his hand coming away from his transcription in order to tuck an errant lock of silver hair behind his ear. ]
[ Priscilla lifts her head and holds the book up. You can vaguely hear the shape of her voice-the lilt that indicates she's asking questions. Strain to hear and you can make it out-she remembers this name from somewhere, is it a common one or unique, and does he knows anyone with this name? She holds up the book and points to it, but he seems to be ignoring it. ]
This research is something I would like to see fulfilled. [ Priscilla's curious expression has soured into something resembling frustration and impatience. ] It could hold the key to our being able to use the Door to return home. That is why I would like to ask for the help of those here that are as keen on discovering the truth as I am. Together...
[ Priscilla shuts the book she is holding with a snap. Isley smiles serenely at the camera. ]
...taking steps in unison...
[ The book is lifted. Priscilla's arm cocks back. ]
...we can overcome the barriers of this world and-
[ -THUMP! ]
[ A startled look appears on Isley's face. His golden eyes are wide like saucers, and he blinks not once, not twice, but three times in surprise. ]
[ Slowly he turns, his back to the camera. He looks at Priscilla. Her chest is heaving. ]
Did you just...throw a book at my head?
[ The disbelief in Isley's voice is laughable. So much so that Priscilla cracks a smile, shakes her head, then falls back on his bed giggling. Evidently, she is not sorry. She must really believe he deserved the conk on the noggin. ]
[ Isley rubs the spot upon his crown where the binding of the book struck before he turns back to the camera. He still appears bewildered. ]
...Perhaps I am a bad influence on her after all.
[ The Forge is flicked off. ]
[ Turning away from Priscilla, Isley takes a seat at his desk and sets down the Forge. ]
[ A thick, hardcover book is dragged off the top of a pile next to him and opened up to a page that is marked about three quarters of the way through. A long, slender finger traces the text on the page. When he finds what he is looking for he taps it once and then returns his gaze to the Forge. ]
I have been doing a great deal of studying these past weeks. Architecture, biographies, folklore, and history...the library is truly a marvelous way to occupy one's spare time.
While sifting through the collection there, I recently uncovered a book transcribed by a long-gone linguist Scorched. This book in particular stands out from the rest...because it is a documented account of old arrivals through the Door. There are hundreds of dates, names and times of arrival. The activity of the Door, however ordinary or out of the ordinary for it, was also documented along with each arrival.
When I came upon this...I wondered to myself why no one thought to continue this research. After having read it, I have found myself enthralled.
Even more fascinating are the documented disappearances. Some seem to follow distinct patterns as they do here and now. Others are seemingly random. Few appear to be accidental, however. If that is the case, how can they be unsystematic? How can any of it be unplanned?
[ He leans back in his chair, his hand coming away from his transcription in order to tuck an errant lock of silver hair behind his ear. ]
[ Priscilla lifts her head and holds the book up. You can vaguely hear the shape of her voice-the lilt that indicates she's asking questions. Strain to hear and you can make it out-she remembers this name from somewhere, is it a common one or unique, and does he knows anyone with this name? She holds up the book and points to it, but he seems to be ignoring it. ]
This research is something I would like to see fulfilled. [ Priscilla's curious expression has soured into something resembling frustration and impatience. ] It could hold the key to our being able to use the Door to return home. That is why I would like to ask for the help of those here that are as keen on discovering the truth as I am. Together...
[ Priscilla shuts the book she is holding with a snap. Isley smiles serenely at the camera. ]
...taking steps in unison...
[ The book is lifted. Priscilla's arm cocks back. ]
...we can overcome the barriers of this world and-
[ -THUMP! ]
[ A startled look appears on Isley's face. His golden eyes are wide like saucers, and he blinks not once, not twice, but three times in surprise. ]
[ Slowly he turns, his back to the camera. He looks at Priscilla. Her chest is heaving. ]
Did you just...throw a book at my head?
[ The disbelief in Isley's voice is laughable. So much so that Priscilla cracks a smile, shakes her head, then falls back on his bed giggling. Evidently, she is not sorry. She must really believe he deserved the conk on the noggin. ]
[ Isley rubs the spot upon his crown where the binding of the book struck before he turns back to the camera. He still appears bewildered. ]
...Perhaps I am a bad influence on her after all.
[ The Forge is flicked off. ]