hemic
in
sirenspull
一
[ When the feed first flickers to life, it is a uninteresting sight. The walls painted in a dull beige. The window in the far corner gives the only indication of what the time seems to be. Early morning, most likely, but if one was to be lost in the direction of time, it could easily be mistaken as late evening. It is only when faint sunlight begins to through the window and lights the room to remove any dimness that it's clear to be the former.
Itachi doesn't hold the device. As a matter of fact, it is on the surface of a bedside table. Already has he received the unfortunate welcome of SERO agents and their forceful interrogation without nothing in return.
Even though his physical appearance manages to avoid the feed, the groaning of the bed underneath him gives enough indication of another being in close enough proximity to broadcast.
The silence lingers, and it's almost painfully dull.
After several minutes, he stands. It's not noticeable at first, at least not until the device is lifted. It catches sight of a dark-haired man -- long fingers, and a hint of red hues with dark circles provoked by exhaustion and annoyance that glance at the screen, only for the feed to fade into blankness as he starts to speak.
His voice is low, lacking in everything but indifference and a brief tone of annoyance: ] For those that were fortunate enough to be handed information unlike those that underwent questioning -- an elaboration would be appreciated. [ A pause. He speaks lower, softer in the sense that the irritation has dulled in his voice.] ...As well as those that hold familiarity to allow themselves to be acknowledged.
[ And without a breath further, the transmission ends. ]
Itachi doesn't hold the device. As a matter of fact, it is on the surface of a bedside table. Already has he received the unfortunate welcome of SERO agents and their forceful interrogation without nothing in return.
Even though his physical appearance manages to avoid the feed, the groaning of the bed underneath him gives enough indication of another being in close enough proximity to broadcast.
The silence lingers, and it's almost painfully dull.
After several minutes, he stands. It's not noticeable at first, at least not until the device is lifted. It catches sight of a dark-haired man -- long fingers, and a hint of red hues with dark circles provoked by exhaustion and annoyance that glance at the screen, only for the feed to fade into blankness as he starts to speak.
His voice is low, lacking in everything but indifference and a brief tone of annoyance: ] For those that were fortunate enough to be handed information unlike those that underwent questioning -- an elaboration would be appreciated. [ A pause. He speaks lower, softer in the sense that the irritation has dulled in his voice.] ...As well as those that hold familiarity to allow themselves to be acknowledged.
[ And without a breath further, the transmission ends. ]