[Video post; week 5, Day 5 ]
[Wind rustling through long grass, a distant call of a bird, long and cheerful, sun on warm skin, just a whisper of a cloud's shadow, a rich scent of earth in the air - it is peaceful.
Not quite what he expected from afterlife.
Squinting, he cracks open his eyes, both of them. The sun is bright, almost blinding. Or perhaps it's just the sharp contrast to the darkness behind his lids that makes him wince, fingers balling into fists on his lap.]
[The recording blinks on, revealing a view of a blue sky, cloud sailing past majestically. A rustle of fabric can be heard, a sharp inhale and then laughter, so quiet at first it's but a whisper at the background, growing stronger by every hacking bark of amusement. Though, there is hardly anything amusing about this laughter, like shocked pain pouring out from an open wound, filthy, grimy, broken to sudden, choked silences.]
Ha-ha... Hah. H-ha...
[His fingers are clammy as he squeezes something within his palms and the picture goes blank again. Somehow the thrill of a victory doesn't feel so sweet when he knows it paid him his life. Hysterical, he can stop laughing.
He lifts a hand to his eyes.]
[The view of a blue sky returns, even brighter than before, if possible. And with it, the shocked laughter, quieted into stumbling chuckles that wheezes through the connection in that all too private tone that is almost painful to listen,]
...ah-a-ahhaha... I did it, hmn.
[It's a whisper, in a final tone of voice that invites no arguments. What he did is never mentioned, however, as the picture rattles forcefully before going blank again.]
[He is laying on his back, surrounded by soft grass. He feels warm and light. Definitely not what he expected of afterlife.]
--Sasuke, [he whispers,] can you see it too?
Can you see-- [the volume of his voice is rising slightly, gaining an edge, shifting. And he curls his fingers against the worn leather within his palm, again, clicking neurotically the shutter of his camera eyepatch.]
-- what my art can do, hmn? Are you afraid now? [Suddenly the sky is back again, and the half crazed voice breaks through the connection in mid-sentence. Then the world tilts awkwardly, wild vertigo hits the picture on its rapid descend from the clouds. For a moment there's nothing but shaky images of green and blue, a shadow passing over, wisps of wheat-coloured hair, and clipped words, unearthed and scattered to have no reason or rhyme.]
--I'm gonna-- their mistake-- you see, you see now?--and you can fuc-- Uchiha!
[Blue eyes, slanted and sharp, stare at down to the screen once the picture stops moving, pale hair frame the view on other side, a shadow of a hand from the other. He's so close you can see the flakes of darker blue around his cornea. A frown is building on winged brows, a soundless snarl pulling back thin lips to bare a hint of white teeth.]
--recording, hmn?
Not quite what he expected from afterlife.
Squinting, he cracks open his eyes, both of them. The sun is bright, almost blinding. Or perhaps it's just the sharp contrast to the darkness behind his lids that makes him wince, fingers balling into fists on his lap.]
[The recording blinks on, revealing a view of a blue sky, cloud sailing past majestically. A rustle of fabric can be heard, a sharp inhale and then laughter, so quiet at first it's but a whisper at the background, growing stronger by every hacking bark of amusement. Though, there is hardly anything amusing about this laughter, like shocked pain pouring out from an open wound, filthy, grimy, broken to sudden, choked silences.]
Ha-ha... Hah. H-ha...
[His fingers are clammy as he squeezes something within his palms and the picture goes blank again. Somehow the thrill of a victory doesn't feel so sweet when he knows it paid him his life. Hysterical, he can stop laughing.
He lifts a hand to his eyes.]
[The view of a blue sky returns, even brighter than before, if possible. And with it, the shocked laughter, quieted into stumbling chuckles that wheezes through the connection in that all too private tone that is almost painful to listen,]
...ah-a-ahhaha... I did it, hmn.
[It's a whisper, in a final tone of voice that invites no arguments. What he did is never mentioned, however, as the picture rattles forcefully before going blank again.]
[He is laying on his back, surrounded by soft grass. He feels warm and light. Definitely not what he expected of afterlife.]
--Sasuke, [he whispers,] can you see it too?
Can you see-- [the volume of his voice is rising slightly, gaining an edge, shifting. And he curls his fingers against the worn leather within his palm, again, clicking neurotically the shutter of his camera eyepatch.]
-- what my art can do, hmn? Are you afraid now? [Suddenly the sky is back again, and the half crazed voice breaks through the connection in mid-sentence. Then the world tilts awkwardly, wild vertigo hits the picture on its rapid descend from the clouds. For a moment there's nothing but shaky images of green and blue, a shadow passing over, wisps of wheat-coloured hair, and clipped words, unearthed and scattered to have no reason or rhyme.]
--I'm gonna-- their mistake-- you see, you see now?--and you can fuc-- Uchiha!
[Blue eyes, slanted and sharp, stare at down to the screen once the picture stops moving, pale hair frame the view on other side, a shadow of a hand from the other. He's so close you can see the flakes of darker blue around his cornea. A frown is building on winged brows, a soundless snarl pulling back thin lips to bare a hint of white teeth.]
--recording, hmn?