Public Audio - Filtered Away from Amanda Young and Mark Hoffman
My name is Dr. Sarah Harding. I’m assigned to Amanda Young. You all know who she is - and if you don’t, you’ll learn fast enough.
This morning at approximately ten a.m., Amanda asked me to her room under the premise of discussing a personal issue. When I arrived, she threw a cupful of hydrogen peroxide into my eyes.
I’m speaking publicly on the network not for pity from the general population, but to address the person who’s been helping her. Hiding things for her. Razor blades, hydrogen peroxide, odds and ends. Whoever it is, I am asking you to stop. Please. Stop hiding things for her, stop keeping secrets for her, stop talking to her. If you have some grudge against me, personally, then tell me and I’ll try to resolve it with you, but I really don’t think it’s that. The only person with even a remote reason for a grudge against me is the one person who isn’t helping her in this respect.
So. Maybe you think it’s keeping you safe from her attacks, but I’m telling you right now: it’s not. She’s going to turn on you. She has no loyalties to anyone except Jigsaw.
I expect to be attacked by her, but not with chemicals she shouldn’t have. Not with any kind of weapon she shouldn’t have. So, whoever’s helping her: as of right now, I’m blind, and that’s on you.
[She sounds a little more emotional with that last sentence than she did starting out.]
I want you to understand what I’ve lost if this doesn’t heal: I’m an animal behaviorist. I spend nine months of every year in the field, watching animals. If I don’t get my vision back, I don’t have a reason to be here. I’m not sure I can be here, acting as her warden without my eyesight. I’ll sure as hell try, but there it is. And I don’t want to hear one word about “resetting”. Don’t you dare suggest to me that I should kill myself to get my sight back, because I’m not giving Amanda Young the satisfaction.
[She pauses, then continues in a flat tone:]
I’m trying to keep her from hurting people, but I can’t do it alone. I’m appealing to you: if you want to help her, help me.
[Private to Hoffman]
[Now she doesn’t sound calm. She switches to video so he can see the chemical burns on her face.]
It’s on whoever gave her the peroxide, but it’s ultimately your fault. Get a good look. Have a laugh about it. But I want you to remember that I’ve never done anything but try to help the both of you.
This is your fault, and I hope the way I look right now is horrifying and it sticks with you. Maybe it’ll do you some good.
[She switches back to audio. There's a pause, and then:]
And if you ever, ever tell someone I slept with you again, I will shoot you. I wouldn’t touch you if you were the last man alive.
[Private to Una, Frances, and Tim]
Thank you.
[OOC: Infirmary Spam welcome for anyone who wants.]
This morning at approximately ten a.m., Amanda asked me to her room under the premise of discussing a personal issue. When I arrived, she threw a cupful of hydrogen peroxide into my eyes.
I’m speaking publicly on the network not for pity from the general population, but to address the person who’s been helping her. Hiding things for her. Razor blades, hydrogen peroxide, odds and ends. Whoever it is, I am asking you to stop. Please. Stop hiding things for her, stop keeping secrets for her, stop talking to her. If you have some grudge against me, personally, then tell me and I’ll try to resolve it with you, but I really don’t think it’s that. The only person with even a remote reason for a grudge against me is the one person who isn’t helping her in this respect.
So. Maybe you think it’s keeping you safe from her attacks, but I’m telling you right now: it’s not. She’s going to turn on you. She has no loyalties to anyone except Jigsaw.
I expect to be attacked by her, but not with chemicals she shouldn’t have. Not with any kind of weapon she shouldn’t have. So, whoever’s helping her: as of right now, I’m blind, and that’s on you.
[She sounds a little more emotional with that last sentence than she did starting out.]
I want you to understand what I’ve lost if this doesn’t heal: I’m an animal behaviorist. I spend nine months of every year in the field, watching animals. If I don’t get my vision back, I don’t have a reason to be here. I’m not sure I can be here, acting as her warden without my eyesight. I’ll sure as hell try, but there it is. And I don’t want to hear one word about “resetting”. Don’t you dare suggest to me that I should kill myself to get my sight back, because I’m not giving Amanda Young the satisfaction.
[She pauses, then continues in a flat tone:]
I’m trying to keep her from hurting people, but I can’t do it alone. I’m appealing to you: if you want to help her, help me.
[Private to Hoffman]
[Now she doesn’t sound calm. She switches to video so he can see the chemical burns on her face.]
It’s on whoever gave her the peroxide, but it’s ultimately your fault. Get a good look. Have a laugh about it. But I want you to remember that I’ve never done anything but try to help the both of you.
This is your fault, and I hope the way I look right now is horrifying and it sticks with you. Maybe it’ll do you some good.
[She switches back to audio. There's a pause, and then:]
And if you ever, ever tell someone I slept with you again, I will shoot you. I wouldn’t touch you if you were the last man alive.
[Private to Una, Frances, and Tim]
Thank you.
[OOC: Infirmary Spam welcome for anyone who wants.]