[The image starts out dim, dark greys and flickering blues, before it focuses to show Shoshanna, seated in the projection booth at the Crest Theater, watching-something-quite intently. Her NV, the gold compact she inherited from Madame Mimieux, has for one reason or another begun recording without its owner's knowledge; it's sitting on a nearby ( Read more... )

[This time, the transmission from Shoshanna consists merely of a single line of text, meticulously thought-out. She was never one for wasting words.]

I suppose this martial law business is better than what I am accustomed to.

[...Then again, a lot of things are better than Nazi-occupied France.]

[After a little fumbling, the video feed clicks on and Shoshanna comes into focus, blinking with startled eyes at the video camera suddenly embedded in her gold compact. She's still dressed in her 1940s-era attire, looking more tired than usual. Behind her is the familiar view of one of the Tower apartments, dingy wall and narrow bed. Her brow ( Read more... )