cape_kore | 001 | Charlie Luciano

Entry tags:

001 | Charlie Luciano | Voice

[Hello Cape Kore, were you feeling a lack of New Yorkers you needed to fill? Another very strong accent comes over the device, deeper this time and much angrier.

Do to the automated response from his wrist... whatever, Charlie has come to the conclusion that it's some kind of direct line to his kidnappers. So please do excuse him for making rather a colourful first impression.]

I don't know who you thinks you are, you sick fucks, but whatever they're paying you ain't gonna be worth jack shit when I gets my hands on you, you hear?

And what kind of idiot you gotta be to dump someone and not fucking search 'em first?

Hey! [Charlie's voice becomes a little more indistinct as he moves his wrist to flag down a passing stranger.]

What to I gotta do to get a fucking car around here?

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I'm in a town square or something. There's a fountain with a broad in her nightgown.

You're not far, then. You see the lighthouse? Start walking down the path towards that. The house is on the right.

Right, I'm on my way. How fucking small is this place? I been in road stops with more life to 'em.

Pretty small, as far as I can tell. Pretty dull, too, except for...

[Well. Maybe they should discuss all of that when Charlie shows up. Meyer doesn't think Charlie will take kindly to the fact that, apparently, they're all being watched by cameras all day.]

Except for what, Meyer?

[He can see the lighthouse looming forward, and the tops of two houses. Whoever their neighbours are, he hopes they're not nosy. He remembers what small towns are like, every one in each other's business. Perfect.]

Except for apparently we're always being watched.

[He's come out of the house to look for Charlie, and is currently pacing in front of it, like he always does when he's thinking.]

[Meyer's hard not to spot. Charlie has a radar for when Meyer's in a bad mood, although at least this time he doesn't blame him. When he's in sight, he switches off the wrist-phone. He always prefers talking in person, far less likely to tapped later.]

What'd you mean 'always'? Like on these phone things whatever they are?

[It's not much in term of greeting, but what does he expect.]

I don't know. Someone said something about cameras. I don't know much.

[It takes a lot to admit not knowing about something, and Charlie's about the only person he'd admit it to.]

[Charlie claps a hand onto Meyer's shoulder, giving him a squeeze.]

They gotta be recording onto something. You ever tried taking 'em apart?

Not yet, but we could.

[He nods determinedly.]

We should, if we're gonna stay in this house until we find a way out of here.

Fucking right, I ain't into some stranger watching what I'm doing.

[Charlie gives his shoulder another squeeze and then starts heading into the house, seeing what he's working with here.]

You got anything to drink?

[He shakes his head, following Charlie.]

Nothing to drink. Less cigarettes than I'd like. This isn't gonna be a vacation.

You saying they ain't got a smoke shop here or nothing? What kind of place is this.

[The little house looks overly... quaint. But it's fine for now. Anyway, it's far enough away from the rest of the houses, but still near the town centre which works well.]

Not that I've seen. I've been warned about monsters, Satan, and mysterious kidnappers, though.

[He can believe the mysterious kidnappers part. Mostly.]

Satan? Don't tell me we got nabbed by one of them fire and brimstone lots.

[Rationed or not, he needs a cigarette badly. He tosses himself onto the sofa as soon as he's in the door to light one up. And then standing up again because this place really does put him on edge.]

[Of course he's having a cigarette, too, even if he knows he shouldn't be. And he's practically pacing a hole in the floor at this rate.]

That's the thing. Everyone agrees we've been kidnapped, and nobody can tell me who did it.

And nobody's ever made it out?

[He meets Meyer half-way through his pacing to offer him a light.]

If they have, nobody's told me about it. They seemed more fixated on providing us with the horror stories.

[Charlie, he deeply appreciates you right now. He'd be a lot less sane if you weren't here -- although he'd probably still appear pretty sane either way.]

The could be trying to rattle us. We've no idea who's working for who around here.

[His eyes flick up to take in the camera pointed at them from the corner of the room.]

Anyone ever tried throwing a blanket over one of those?

Feel free to give it a try.

[He's actually not as concerned about the cameras right now as he is about the fact that they're apparently stuck.]

We need to get back home. We got business to attend to.

You think I don't know that, Meyer? I just can't think straight with these things pointing at me.

[Excuse him pulling a chair over from the kitchen to stand up on and take a look, cigarette stuck in the corner of his mouth. It's the smallest damn camera he's ever seen.]

Where the fuck is it recording into?

I haven't been able to figure that out, and nobody seems likely to tell me. It's gotta be somewhere pretty big, to fit all those reels of film.

[Because digital recording? What's that?]

They must got somewhere under ground.

[He hops down off the stool to grab a blanket off the back of the nearest chair and drape it over the camera. Worst case scenario, it will at least get someone's attention.]

Maybe the people who run this place are some kind of perverts if they got cameras in people's bedrooms.

This seems like a whole lotta effort to go to to watch people having sex.

[In his opinion, it's a whole lot of effort to go to to do... just about anything. Whoever had kidnapped them must have something big in mind.]

Yeah maybe, but what the fuck do we know? None of this place makes any fucking sense.

[He's back to shifting around on the balls of his feet now, sucking on his cigarette.]

We both get kidnapped. Out of New York, right? But people say we ain't anywhere near there. So how'd they get us the fuck out here? And if they wanted us here, specifically, why the fuck haven't they done anything with us? They let me keep my goddamn piece for christ's sake.

It don't make sense, Meyer.

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