| [first off: voice. static, mostly, caused by much rubbing and shifting. there might be a slightly off beat, amused, slightly pained 'thank you' before there's the brush of cloth over something close to where the sound goes in- and then there's a quiet voice coming in once the static stops.
she's in pain, but:] How interesting this is turning out to be. [a dry lilt, that, masking whether or not she truly means.] Tell me, who was it that took me away?
[the place that she can't reach out to now and touch, the place with the golden lights that tore her apart - her brother's chains of conviction that burned bruises into her skin, she's noticing when she glances down.]
And, for what reason... I am no less wary after being given this by a flustered passerby. [for what reason? she needed the towel and couldn't get it herself, of course. well, she fiddles with the thing (thing, yes, interesting little thing,but-) some more and, finally, there's clear video-
of a wet, bloody, naked-if-not-for-the-towel woman with big red eyes staring down and around. she turns the thing and then, suddenly, she is upside down with the new view of her neck up. well. she tried to right it, not knowing what she did. ah, well... technology.] Can I be heard on this? It isn't just myself and the one who passed me by, is it - how terribly lonely that would be!
[.......] This may just be wishful - [willful and selfish, too] - thinking on my part, but... [she's in too much pain right now to resist. she doesn't want either of them to be alone and her mind narrows in on that--] Brother?
[and then something catches her attention from the side and she can't help but turn her head in that direction, wet hair falling over her shoulder and the reddened towel. she moves, her hand swiping across the feed, and - the feed cuts off.] |
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