£ 015.
[gemma's face is rift by concern. she isn't looking directly at the camera, but rather off into the distance. she's standing at an open window in her home, curtains blowing in towards her along with a bit of snow. she seems to be ignoring the latter rather well. there's a glowing coming from somewhere in front of her, illuminating her face, but its source is ambiguous. she was murmuring to herself when the video started, and the last bits of her sentence are caught on tape:]
--n't be the same.
[she finally turns her face to the communicator, brow furrowed.]
Something feels--off. I don't know what it is, or where it came from, but--
[her head snaps towards the window again, and a breeze blows some snow towards her face. she wipes it away impatiently, not seeming to care about the chill at all.]
It doesn't seem right. Something's different here.
[and then, insecurity and mild paranoia in her voice. she presses a hand to her forehead, almost as if in pain. she murmurs to herself again:]
I just hope I'm not going mad.
[she bites her lip nervously, then turns her face back towards the window, cutting the feed.]
[ooc; this is directly in relation to this!]
--n't be the same.
[she finally turns her face to the communicator, brow furrowed.]
Something feels--off. I don't know what it is, or where it came from, but--
[her head snaps towards the window again, and a breeze blows some snow towards her face. she wipes it away impatiently, not seeming to care about the chill at all.]
It doesn't seem right. Something's different here.
[and then, insecurity and mild paranoia in her voice. she presses a hand to her forehead, almost as if in pain. she murmurs to herself again:]
I just hope I'm not going mad.
[she bites her lip nervously, then turns her face back towards the window, cutting the feed.]
[ooc; this is directly in relation to this!]