01: [Voice -> Video] Carry On Wayward Son
Oct. 30th, 2010 02:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dashboardlite[There's an unhappy growling sound, a few switches clicking, and the low buzz of electronics warming up.]
C'mon, you fucker. Jesus, you- Okay. There. God damn it, didn't think I'd have to leave my own message like a bad zombie apocalypse movie.
[The screen flickers and it clears up to show a man's torso before he bends down to squint into the camera. He's ruggedly good-looking, albeit a little angry at present with the set jaw and furrowed brow. He narrows green eyes at the lens and prods it experimentally before shuffling to one side and scraping a chair across the floor to the table, settling on it and propping his feet up before speaking.]
No goddamn clue where I am.
[He groans, rubbing the back of his neck.]
'M in a room, in a house, and Sammy if you get this broadcast you come and find me, you hear? For all I know it's the freakin' trickster again tryin' to screw around with me, and this time I don't wanna die chokin' on a taco or getting a desk dropped on my sexy head.
[The man glares at the camera before digging into his leather jacket, pulling out an IMI Desert Eagle semi-automatic pistol and checking the weight and munitions cartridge. Prying one of the bullets out, he holds it up to the camera briefly.]
See that? Wrought iron.
[Looks rather pleased with himself as he replaces it in its case and reloads the gun.]
If any demons or ghosts come around lookin' for me I'll be ready.
[Quirks a little smile at the gun before tucking it back into his jacket and fingering the amulet around his neck, lost in thought for a moment before mumbling hoarsely.]
...you gotta find me, Sammy. S'not like I had much time left, anyway.
[He reaches over, and there are a few seconds of muffled, bumping noises before he hits the switch and the screen goes black.]
C'mon, you fucker. Jesus, you- Okay. There. God damn it, didn't think I'd have to leave my own message like a bad zombie apocalypse movie.
[The screen flickers and it clears up to show a man's torso before he bends down to squint into the camera. He's ruggedly good-looking, albeit a little angry at present with the set jaw and furrowed brow. He narrows green eyes at the lens and prods it experimentally before shuffling to one side and scraping a chair across the floor to the table, settling on it and propping his feet up before speaking.]
No goddamn clue where I am.
[He groans, rubbing the back of his neck.]
'M in a room, in a house, and Sammy if you get this broadcast you come and find me, you hear? For all I know it's the freakin' trickster again tryin' to screw around with me, and this time I don't wanna die chokin' on a taco or getting a desk dropped on my sexy head.
[The man glares at the camera before digging into his leather jacket, pulling out an IMI Desert Eagle semi-automatic pistol and checking the weight and munitions cartridge. Prying one of the bullets out, he holds it up to the camera briefly.]
See that? Wrought iron.
[Looks rather pleased with himself as he replaces it in its case and reloads the gun.]
If any demons or ghosts come around lookin' for me I'll be ready.
[Quirks a little smile at the gun before tucking it back into his jacket and fingering the amulet around his neck, lost in thought for a moment before mumbling hoarsely.]
...you gotta find me, Sammy. S'not like I had much time left, anyway.
[He reaches over, and there are a few seconds of muffled, bumping noises before he hits the switch and the screen goes black.]
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
Video
Date: 2010-10-31 12:56 am (UTC)I suppose I could accompany you. I'm genuinely surprised though - Santana lives almost exclusively on a combination of our cheerleading coach's Master Cleanse and breadsticks. She's not someone I would expect to know how to find food here.
But yes, I know her. We're classmates at home, and we're in glee club together. [] She can be awfully catty though. Headgames just aren't worth the trouble.
Have you found out where the kitchen is yet? Or would you like someone to come lead you in the right direction?
Video
Date: 2010-10-31 01:05 am (UTC)Catty's a good word for 'er, yeah. As for the kitchen, I dun-
[He stops, glancing over one shoulder and throwing an arm on the back of his chair.]
...oh. She's here.
[Looks back at the camera.]
You should come, dude. Floor ten, room one-hundred.
Video
Date: 2010-10-31 01:15 am (UTC)Right. I'll be there soon then. After all, you'll want someone who can be a little more reliable of a navigator. Something will probably distract her, I'm sure.
[]
Video
Date: 2010-10-31 01:20 am (UTC)[Laughs a little incredulously, switching off that channel. Two people already. If he's lucky they won't try and kill him, but they look pretty harmless.]