001 \\ Sherlock Holmes \\ [Video]

[could_be_dangerous]

[The feed, when it flicks on, doesn't show a face. Instead, a hand, pale and long-fingered, and in it, held almost delicately by the edge, is a photograph. A small square thing, it shows a dark photograph of a bedroom, the edges darker than the centre in the distinctive fashion of photographs taken by a pinhole camera. It seems that the device which took the photo was aimed across the room at one of the surveillance cameras. The most notable feature of the photograph isn't the bedroom or the camera but the white blur that crosses the image, most opaque in the vicinity of the camera itself. The hand holding the photograph brings it closer, lets the communicator's camera travel slowly over it, and then comes the voice, little more than a murmur.]

Only a few minutes' exposure. Twice in as many days; our friends are getting sloppy.

[There's a pause, a slight and apparently unintentional shift in the image, and a rustling of fabric before the voice cuts in again, still soft, rough, and weary.]

So well done. Carry on being a handful.

Comments

[could_be_dangerous]

Incomplete. At the moment unnecessary. How we got here is still obscure to me, as is who's keeping us, though I have narrowed it down a great deal. I know we're in North America by the soil type and the species of trees growing in the area. I know we're being constantly observed, and that whoever's keeping us will go to great lengths to ensure that we remain not only here but under observation, which means that we're specimens of some interest, a conclusion corroborated by the fact that most of us here are in some way remarkable. All technology by which we might be able to access the outside world has been taken. Whoever they are, they don't want us to know what's going on and quite possibly they don't want anyone else to know that they exist.

I worked all of this out my first day here; that's enough to be starting with, don't you think? Enough to work with, if you've the talent. Or the motivation to bother, rather than simply pretending none of this is actually happening and relying on somebody else, or worse, on fate to reach out and save you.

[porcelainpride]

...I almost feel bad for whoever took us, now.