[Week 9, Day 4 | Video]
[The video feed catches several brief images -- large almond eyes, blue fur, a face with no mouth, another pair of eyes set atop stalks, and a flash of something bright and sharp twitching above a shoulder -- as the Hitomi is evidently being turned about and inspected by its new owner.
After a moment, the video settles on Elfangor's face. He stares at the screen, as though trying to communicate with it, but apparently thought-speak does not translate through the device; there is only silence.
But then his face begins to shift -- blue fur melts to pale skin, features rearrange; his stalk eyes retract, and a mouth splits open. There is the sound of crunching bone, and an odd schlooping noise, indicating further physical changes out of visual range.
And then, he is fully human. And mostly naked, if not for the tight black shorts. He shivers a bit at the loss of his fur, but slight discomfort is not important right now -- he needs to be able to communicate.
He draws himself up, standing at attention as best he can while speaking into the device, and speaks clearly at the screen.]
This appears to be an advanced technological unit in my current possession. Yet, I cannot gain access to a secure zero-space channel, and so I must send this message openly. I have little other choice, save to camouflage myself amongst the residents of this place, and the Electorate has made clear its... opinion on my history with this particular tactic.
[He sneers slightly at this, not really bothering to hide his contempt at the Electorate's cover-up of his previous time spent on Earth.]
This is War-Prince Elfangor-Sirinial-Shamtul of the Andalite space fleet. I appear to be on Earth, but not the Earth as I have known it. The stars are wrong. This leads me to believe that either this is not in fact Earth, despite the similarities... or I have been misplaced in time.
[He frowns.]
I suspect the Ellimist may have diverted me from my timeline once again. [Meddling old bastard, Elfangor mutters mutinously under his breath.]
My last clear recollection before finding myself transported here is... well, my imminent death at the hands of Esplin 9466 Primary. I will not refer to that scum by his rank.
While I do hope that there may be some representative of the fleet within range of this message, I do not expect immediate retrieval. Too much is at stake, there is no time for that. I will fare well enough on my own, for the time being.
[His features take on a sharp edge, but his voice becomes deceptively light.]
But if this message somehow makes it into the wrong hands, [his tone indicates that he means a very specific "wrong hands"] then I only have one message for you, Esplin -
I hope you enjoy the little present I left for you.
[He smirks, and the video feed dies.]
After a moment, the video settles on Elfangor's face. He stares at the screen, as though trying to communicate with it, but apparently thought-speak does not translate through the device; there is only silence.
But then his face begins to shift -- blue fur melts to pale skin, features rearrange; his stalk eyes retract, and a mouth splits open. There is the sound of crunching bone, and an odd schlooping noise, indicating further physical changes out of visual range.
And then, he is fully human. And mostly naked, if not for the tight black shorts. He shivers a bit at the loss of his fur, but slight discomfort is not important right now -- he needs to be able to communicate.
He draws himself up, standing at attention as best he can while speaking into the device, and speaks clearly at the screen.]
This appears to be an advanced technological unit in my current possession. Yet, I cannot gain access to a secure zero-space channel, and so I must send this message openly. I have little other choice, save to camouflage myself amongst the residents of this place, and the Electorate has made clear its... opinion on my history with this particular tactic.
[He sneers slightly at this, not really bothering to hide his contempt at the Electorate's cover-up of his previous time spent on Earth.]
This is War-Prince Elfangor-Sirinial-Shamtul of the Andalite space fleet. I appear to be on Earth, but not the Earth as I have known it. The stars are wrong. This leads me to believe that either this is not in fact Earth, despite the similarities... or I have been misplaced in time.
[He frowns.]
I suspect the Ellimist may have diverted me from my timeline once again. [Meddling old bastard, Elfangor mutters mutinously under his breath.]
My last clear recollection before finding myself transported here is... well, my imminent death at the hands of Esplin 9466 Primary. I will not refer to that scum by his rank.
While I do hope that there may be some representative of the fleet within range of this message, I do not expect immediate retrieval. Too much is at stake, there is no time for that. I will fare well enough on my own, for the time being.
[His features take on a sharp edge, but his voice becomes deceptively light.]
But if this message somehow makes it into the wrong hands, [his tone indicates that he means a very specific "wrong hands"] then I only have one message for you, Esplin -
I hope you enjoy the little present I left for you.
[He smirks, and the video feed dies.]