(013) Thirteenth Report [>>Video] Forward-dated to late evening
[There's a part of Jill that's strongly against using a video feed. It feels too... open, maybe, too revealing, but perhaps because habits are hard to break -- or perhaps because there are still parts of her true personality clinging to her psyche -- she makes her address a video, and entirely public at that. The feed shows a remote corner of the Library: books cover a table in neatly arranged orders and stacks, varying in subject from microbiology and physiology to ancient religions and several American history texts. The tablet itself is perched against some books, and there's just enough space between the stacks to see where papers have been laid out and covered in handwritten notes.
Jill herself has her back to the screen, half-sitting on the table's edge. She's dressed predominantly in black, and any who recall her first days in the Underworld may note the strong resemblence between her attire now and the catsuit she arrived in. She glances over her shoulder as she closes the book in her hand with a loud snap -- and yes, she's wearing sunglasses. Indoors. At night when she feels like it. And yes, she's wearing the front of the suit that low, with her scars visible for all the world to see.
And yes, her hair is that platinum blonde again.]
The repertoire of knowledge here is impressively wide -- fitting, obviously, if they intend to try and satisfy all of us. [There's some dryness to her words -- but more than that, her tone is flat. Completely. There's none of its usual warmth, no emotion beyond that sarcasm, no evidence that speaking out loud is anything other than a grudging necessity.] And yet not a single printed word on Greek mythology. [She sets the text on the table and makes her way around to her chair, leaning her hip against the back as she scans the other books she's gathered.]
Basic principles appear to be preserved from one dimension to the next -- but given the wide range of diversity here, [There's a smile. A small, cold, entirely humorless smile, gone as quickly as it came.] one can begin to believe the accounts.
Tell me, is it a common occurrence for one's civilization to have advanced beyond the everyday twenty-first century? My world is one of technology, but sorely lacking in comparison, it would seem. Even mankind itself-- [She shrugs one shoulder lightly, and for an instant it's a casual gesture that's entirely, 100% Jill Valentine.
Her next words kill the image.] --I am familiar with it being... unimpressive on the whole. My dimension seems fairly behind in all aspects, unfortunately. [She looks briefly thoughtful -- as well as she can behind sunglasses -- and then dismissively sweeps a gloved hand over the tablet without looking at it.
/MONOLOGUE!FEED]
Jill herself has her back to the screen, half-sitting on the table's edge. She's dressed predominantly in black, and any who recall her first days in the Underworld may note the strong resemblence between her attire now and the catsuit she arrived in. She glances over her shoulder as she closes the book in her hand with a loud snap -- and yes, she's wearing sunglasses. Indoors. At night when she feels like it. And yes, she's wearing the front of the suit that low, with her scars visible for all the world to see.
And yes, her hair is that platinum blonde again.]
The repertoire of knowledge here is impressively wide -- fitting, obviously, if they intend to try and satisfy all of us. [There's some dryness to her words -- but more than that, her tone is flat. Completely. There's none of its usual warmth, no emotion beyond that sarcasm, no evidence that speaking out loud is anything other than a grudging necessity.] And yet not a single printed word on Greek mythology. [She sets the text on the table and makes her way around to her chair, leaning her hip against the back as she scans the other books she's gathered.]
Basic principles appear to be preserved from one dimension to the next -- but given the wide range of diversity here, [There's a smile. A small, cold, entirely humorless smile, gone as quickly as it came.] one can begin to believe the accounts.
Tell me, is it a common occurrence for one's civilization to have advanced beyond the everyday twenty-first century? My world is one of technology, but sorely lacking in comparison, it would seem. Even mankind itself-- [She shrugs one shoulder lightly, and for an instant it's a casual gesture that's entirely, 100% Jill Valentine.
Her next words kill the image.] --I am familiar with it being... unimpressive on the whole. My dimension seems fairly behind in all aspects, unfortunately. [She looks briefly thoughtful -- as well as she can behind sunglasses -- and then dismissively sweeps a gloved hand over the tablet without looking at it.
/MONOLOGUE!FEED]