4'10" OF RAW, CONCENTRATED ANXIETY (
darkov) wrote in
maskormenace2015-06-04 08:34 pm
video
--uh-!
[a little gasp. this thing's kicking on again, doing things. this it's not sounds-- it's...his face? Martin stares, baffled, holding his breath as he stares. slowly, he tilts his head, turns, recognizing this is...him? really? he's not terribly familiar with his face; his own reflections in the glass around here have been spooking him - one more terrible thing to add onto this experience.
he's quite the mess: grimy, sweaty, bangs smeared against his face, looking like he's just spent a day being chased by a pack of wolves. that...that might've gone over a bit better, actually.
after this beat of realizing this is his face, he makes an unhappy sound, his expression twisting unhappily.
his voice is very small, whispering:]
I-I don't...I don't know... [a sniff. he drags a hand across his face; the device is tilted, so the screen sees only the sky and the two buildings he's hiding between. late afternoon somewhere. the top of his head bobs in and out of a corner of the picture, and there's some rustling of pages and an abrupt crumple.]
I don't know. [a huff. the picture wobbles and there's a clack as the device is put on the ground; nothing but a steady stream of sky and some muffled sounds as ambiance.]
[a little gasp. this thing's kicking on again, doing things. this it's not sounds-- it's...his face? Martin stares, baffled, holding his breath as he stares. slowly, he tilts his head, turns, recognizing this is...him? really? he's not terribly familiar with his face; his own reflections in the glass around here have been spooking him - one more terrible thing to add onto this experience.
he's quite the mess: grimy, sweaty, bangs smeared against his face, looking like he's just spent a day being chased by a pack of wolves. that...that might've gone over a bit better, actually.
after this beat of realizing this is his face, he makes an unhappy sound, his expression twisting unhappily.
his voice is very small, whispering:]
I-I don't...I don't know... [a sniff. he drags a hand across his face; the device is tilted, so the screen sees only the sky and the two buildings he's hiding between. late afternoon somewhere. the top of his head bobs in and out of a corner of the picture, and there's some rustling of pages and an abrupt crumple.]
I don't know. [a huff. the picture wobbles and there's a clack as the device is put on the ground; nothing but a steady stream of sky and some muffled sounds as ambiance.]

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