Video

[secondplacescrow]

[ Video starts off with the image of the saddest looking, middle-aged man you can ever think of. He's already beginning to bald, and his beard is a thin, sad thing. Over all, he looks like a man who had seen some things.

He's also holding the camera upside down. ]

Is this how it works?

[ Someone off camera said, "Yeah, you had it turned on, so you can say anything now."

The man coughed. ]

'ullo. I'm Eddison Tollett. I'm from Westeros.

[ The other voice added, "hey, if you make mentions of your job from home . . . " and it became fainter, but the man named Edd seemed to understand his directions. He nodded in the way that one is still confused but managed to follow some of the logic. ]

Hash tag Night's Watch.

[ There's a pause. He looks up beyond the camera, confused. ]

So that makes it easier to find?

[ "No, you have to type it." Edd now looks a annoyed in a morose tone. ]

How in the seven hells do you people write anything with these tiny things? I can barely pick the fleas off my coat, never mind make tiny letters with tiny words.

[ The messages here are smaller than the scrolls on ravens, and that's something. ]

How do I type it?

[ The anonymous helper told him to press the button to end the recording. Instead, poor Edd sent it to the network instead. ]

Comments

[pop_of_color]

That's why you don't get advice from people on shit. You do that shit yourself. Problem solved.

[secondplacescrow]

I'll remember that next time I learn these fancy tools of yours. Perhaps one of those trucks, or the rifles you seem to prefer over swords and crossbows?

[pop_of_color]

The thing you're using? Not fancy. Kinda shitty, as far as things go where I'm from.

First of all, if you're going to armor and whatever, trucks and tanks are the way to go. If you want maneuverability and speed, get a bike - uh, a motorcycle.

Swords are fucking awesome as hell but won't do shit against a bullet. Rifles, pistols, shotguns, whatever. Have the best of both worlds and get a big fucking sword with a powerful ass gun.

[secondplacescrow]

And here you are giving me advice.

[pop_of_color]

Least it's fucking good advice.

[secondplacescrow]

Is it?

[pop_of_color]

If you wanna stay alive here after coming from like, the fucking Middle Ages or whatever?

Yeah.

[secondplacescrow]

I suppose I can take it, then. The worst that can happen to me is when your singing metal boxes rolling up to me and run the wheels over me. Then it says your advice is bad.

[pop_of_color]

Singing metal boxes? What the fuck are singing metal boxes?

Cars? They don't sing.

[secondplacescrow]

Ah. Cars. Carriages, I should've called them, but they are so blasted faster than carriages.

[pop_of_color]

Cars ... still don't sing. Their engines rumble, if that's what you mean.

[secondplacescrow]

No, they sing. I see the people inside dancing inside their seats when they listen to the music.

[pop_of_color]

Oh. The people inside of them sing. The cars don't. They have these speakers in them that projects sound, like uh.

I don't know what would make sense to you.

If you do this - [She cups her hands around her mouth to amplify her sound.] Sorta like that.