[video]
[At first, Alois is smiling. What a nice smile! This will be a nice post! Everything is wonderful! He's... wet. Not quite dripping, but his hair is wet and his shirt is, too. Evidently he's been in the rain.]
An evening like this is more comfortable for sure. Lightning's a little comforting in its own way, too. I'm not sure of the weather-- things are fickle and I don't really like that-- [It's a hypocritical statement.] But so long as I'm not sweating my very insides out, I can tolerate the polarity.
[The flicker of electric lights in the background is almost unnoticeable.]
Now. If it stays so cool, even if the rain leaves sometime soon, this household I'm in will surely be--
[Ahh. There, now it's noticeable. The lights are out completely, in fact. Alois' scream sounds even before the distant clap of thunder that's out a moment later.
There's a certain type of scream that's very terrifying. The sort that sounds as though its sounder is going to die-- or wants to-- it's a scream that's horrifying to hear because the fright in it is so vivid. That's how Alois screams now. It's terribly loud and it's followed by the clatter of the NV.
Helpfully, the lights flash back on. It was only a short outage, a flickering of power. The camera is much different angled, now, no longer in Alois' hands, but the boy's face is bone white and his eyes are impossibly wide. He hasn't move an inch since dropping his NV, aside from the way he trembles, taut and with what might as well be ice in his veins. Some may recognize the way he breathes now as practiced: In. One two three out. In. One two three out. He isn't very good at it, but the effort is there.
Finally his throat gives stutters.]
Why did, why did, why did--
[And he finishes lamely, as if it explains everything (as it should; he's speaking to himself),]
It was so dark.
[Soon after, it clicks out. He isn't doing anything but trying to breathe.]
[Did somebody order some nyctophobia? Some of his responses might be ICly delayed.]
An evening like this is more comfortable for sure. Lightning's a little comforting in its own way, too. I'm not sure of the weather-- things are fickle and I don't really like that-- [It's a hypocritical statement.] But so long as I'm not sweating my very insides out, I can tolerate the polarity.
[The flicker of electric lights in the background is almost unnoticeable.]
Now. If it stays so cool, even if the rain leaves sometime soon, this household I'm in will surely be--
[Ahh. There, now it's noticeable. The lights are out completely, in fact. Alois' scream sounds even before the distant clap of thunder that's out a moment later.
There's a certain type of scream that's very terrifying. The sort that sounds as though its sounder is going to die-- or wants to-- it's a scream that's horrifying to hear because the fright in it is so vivid. That's how Alois screams now. It's terribly loud and it's followed by the clatter of the NV.
Helpfully, the lights flash back on. It was only a short outage, a flickering of power. The camera is much different angled, now, no longer in Alois' hands, but the boy's face is bone white and his eyes are impossibly wide. He hasn't move an inch since dropping his NV, aside from the way he trembles, taut and with what might as well be ice in his veins. Some may recognize the way he breathes now as practiced: In. One two three out. In. One two three out. He isn't very good at it, but the effort is there.
Finally his throat gives stutters.]
Why did, why did, why did--
[And he finishes lamely, as if it explains everything (as it should; he's speaking to himself),]
It was so dark.
[Soon after, it clicks out. He isn't doing anything but trying to breathe.]
[Did somebody order some nyctophobia? Some of his responses might be ICly delayed.]