{1} First Assignment : Accidental Video
Eliza? Eliza, do you copy?
[The video flickers on a few seconds after the sound. A tall man stands on the dock, and there are a few noticeably odd things about him: most evident are his arms, which even from a distance are obviously not flesh and blood. From his fingertips up to where his shoulders disappear beneath body-armor-styled pads, skin is replaced by synthetic covering and thickly insulated, tightly wound cables.
Prosthetics. State-of-the-art, never-before-seen, very expensive-looking prosthetics.
Second, his face -- the left side, especially -- is covered in deep scars, and something like an indented brand adorns the skin above his left eyebrow.
And third, he seems to be talking entirely to himself. He's looking down and to the side, his sunglasses hiding the exact direction of his gaze, but he's obviously staring at no one.]
Eliza? [A pause, and his head twitches slightly to the side as if something caught his attention.] Pritchard? Do you copy?
[Another pause, and then he shifts his weight, obviously agitated.] Shit, anyone on this frequency?
[And yet more silence. Finally, he looks up again and in the direction of the city, going completely still for a few seconds -- and then without warning his head turns suddenly and sharply in the direction of the tablet, which is propped up against the corner of the pier.
Another moment of that almost inhuman stillness -- and then he speaks, this time addressing the device.] Funny. You almost had me for a second there. [His gruff voice doesn't sound the least bit amused.] But I doubt Hades would have gone to the trouble of keeping up with technology -- that's a bit of a giveaway.
[Nothing about his face or posture or tone budges.] Who are you? And more importantly, how the hell am I alive?
[The video flickers on a few seconds after the sound. A tall man stands on the dock, and there are a few noticeably odd things about him: most evident are his arms, which even from a distance are obviously not flesh and blood. From his fingertips up to where his shoulders disappear beneath body-armor-styled pads, skin is replaced by synthetic covering and thickly insulated, tightly wound cables.
Prosthetics. State-of-the-art, never-before-seen, very expensive-looking prosthetics.
Second, his face -- the left side, especially -- is covered in deep scars, and something like an indented brand adorns the skin above his left eyebrow.
And third, he seems to be talking entirely to himself. He's looking down and to the side, his sunglasses hiding the exact direction of his gaze, but he's obviously staring at no one.]
Eliza? [A pause, and his head twitches slightly to the side as if something caught his attention.] Pritchard? Do you copy?
[Another pause, and then he shifts his weight, obviously agitated.] Shit, anyone on this frequency?
[And yet more silence. Finally, he looks up again and in the direction of the city, going completely still for a few seconds -- and then without warning his head turns suddenly and sharply in the direction of the tablet, which is propped up against the corner of the pier.
Another moment of that almost inhuman stillness -- and then he speaks, this time addressing the device.] Funny. You almost had me for a second there. [His gruff voice doesn't sound the least bit amused.] But I doubt Hades would have gone to the trouble of keeping up with technology -- that's a bit of a giveaway.
[Nothing about his face or posture or tone budges.] Who are you? And more importantly, how the hell am I alive?