[ It's voice, at first. The voice that comes through is ragged and slightly slurred, as if the man speaking hasn't spoken in a long time. Everything he says sounds like it takes a lot of effort. ]
So, Canada... Canada, huh? Canada in winter, n'less, damn... I always figured I'd be in Spain for Christmas this year, or -- well, doesn't matter, I guess. Shouldn't be here either way.
[ Now it's video, in the starter apartments. Harry's wearing a nice coat he just picked up on the way, because what's visible of his
outfit doesn't seem designed for warmth. He's very pale and clammy looking, and there's an unlit cigarette in his hand that he seems to have already forgotten about. He turns the NV around, examining it. ]
Hi there, name's Harry. I'm not sure why I'm even talking to you -- none of this is actually real, is it? Who was it who said "death is like heroin", God, I don't know, is that what this is like? No rest for the-- [ He giggles a little, not quite hysterically. ] Who am I supposed to even be reaching on this thing? I feel like an idiot...