002 | Chuck Shurley | Audio and Video

[godsprophet]

--ly shit!

[ The video (which was turned on entirely by accident as he flinched back from the sight before him) is absolutely useless. Chuck takes a step backwards, stumbling and falling to the ground, the feed nothing but blurry motion. When the feed finally does settle, everyone is granted to the sight of trees, grass...

...is that a pool of blood?

The video might not be pointed at Chuck, but it doesn't have to be in order to hear the hysteria and panic in his voice. On some level, he's noticed that the feed has been turned on and proceeds to ramble, because holy shit. ]

I didn't-- I just... I just found her [ At least, he thinks it's a her. ] like this. I didn't...

Oh God.

[ The feed moves once again as Chuck drags both of his hands through his hair. Eventually, voice lased with the panic of someone who is just about to have a very severe panic attack, he asks, ]

Why is there half of a dead body behind the church?

001 ✳ day 61 ✳ video/action

[blackmagus]

( Today she has a mission, and that's all that she's allowed to think about. Get in, get the information, get out. Kill anyone who stops you. )

[When she wakes up again (when had she fallen asleep?), it's dark instead of bright and her ears are ringing. Jazz is curled against her side, mewling in distress. She reaches to pet him, before, well, everything sinks in. This isn't Germania. There's rubble behind her, some sort of ruined building, and the climate is different. Not only that, but there's a communication device of some kind fixed to her arm and it's not a Celestial Interface. Frankly, she would have preferred whoever-it-is take her kidneys instead. She's going to get murdered for losing that thing. They hadn't exactly removed it well, either. The incisions are swollen; she can't turn her wrist without gritting her teeth in pain.

And then the tinny voice straight out of sci-fi cinema tells her to "enjoy her stay," and Fortescue's mood goes from vaguely panicky to murderous. What is this, some sort of game that the Inveterates are playing with people now? Well. They want to poke the tiger? They're going to have to deal with the tiger.]

Enjoy my stay. Right. That's cute, darling, but you're going to need to do better. The Gestapo already tried this on me, in a little camp in the mountains, and I burned that hellish place to the ground.

[Her accent, to anyone from Earth, sounds British, and she has a bloody scrape on her forehead that's starting to bleed again. Jazz makes another distressed mewl, curling as close to her as he can; he knows something's wrong.]

Is anyone else here, or am I just talking to myself? I can do that without this... pathetic little band.