30 彡 [video]
[THIS POST IS BACKDATED, AND FOLLOWS DIRECTLY AFTER THIS THREAD!]
[The screen is a blur at first. Not much can be seen, really - the moonlight isn't quite generous enough to illuminate the scene, especially not with the trees towering all around, and instead there are only highlights, silver slivers running along rocks and dirt and bracken, and Souji Seta, lying on the ground.
Where there was tumult, chaos, there is now quiet - a dead sort of stillness, broken only by the barely audible breathing, ragged and laboured.
His face is pale - ashen - in the light, but perhaps more alarming is the brief glimpse of scuffed skin, his white shirt stained dark. Dirt and blood, it all turns to the same inky black over the feed.
He turns the communicator away, offering the viewer a look at tree branches and sky and nothing else. His finger leaves a dubious, dark smear, half-obscuring the stars.(He doesn't want them to see, not like this.)
Silence continues for a few moments. His wince is audible, the sound sharp. The thin breathing stops, starts, stops, starts, like he's trying to pull it under control. And, somehow, he does. His voice comes out a little rough, hoarse, but firm nonetheless, as even as can be.]
Adachi is dead.
[He swallows, making his breathing shudder. (He knows he has to stay awake, but he just wants to shut his eyes and sleep.)
His voice retains that strange, incongruous steadiness.]
Everyone - [He sucks in another high breath and coughs, wetly. Silence runs again. And then:]
I'm sorry.
[The screen is a blur at first. Not much can be seen, really - the moonlight isn't quite generous enough to illuminate the scene, especially not with the trees towering all around, and instead there are only highlights, silver slivers running along rocks and dirt and bracken, and Souji Seta, lying on the ground.
Where there was tumult, chaos, there is now quiet - a dead sort of stillness, broken only by the barely audible breathing, ragged and laboured.
His face is pale - ashen - in the light, but perhaps more alarming is the brief glimpse of scuffed skin, his white shirt stained dark. Dirt and blood, it all turns to the same inky black over the feed.
He turns the communicator away, offering the viewer a look at tree branches and sky and nothing else. His finger leaves a dubious, dark smear, half-obscuring the stars.(He doesn't want them to see, not like this.)
Silence continues for a few moments. His wince is audible, the sound sharp. The thin breathing stops, starts, stops, starts, like he's trying to pull it under control. And, somehow, he does. His voice comes out a little rough, hoarse, but firm nonetheless, as even as can be.]
Adachi is dead.
[He swallows, making his breathing shudder. (He knows he has to stay awake, but he just wants to shut his eyes and sleep.)
His voice retains that strange, incongruous steadiness.]
Everyone - [He sucks in another high breath and coughs, wetly. Silence runs again. And then:]
I'm sorry.