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15 // video // in which it's hard to know where to start
[ The narration will be collapsing into bed pronto, but let's get this posted while it can at least pretend that it's still Wednesday night.
Alex woke up in a foul-smelling bathroom, surrounded by rubble and his own dried blood, and remembered everything. Things he'd said. Things he'd thought. Things he'd done.
And his death.
His room was close by. Eventually, when he felt able to move, he went there. He found clothes that weren't torn and brittle and stained that dark brown-red. Now the feed flicks on without his realising it, to show him sitting on the floor in his darkened room, back against the foot of his bed, arms around his knees, staring at nothing. Behind him and to the right, the bank of camcorders is a quiet silhouette, one of the recording lights finally blinking again.
At one point, he lifts his hand and moves it over his face, his completely human face. Then he lowers the arm and is still again.
The feed times out after about ten minutes. ]
((ooc: only the stuff after "the feed flicks on" is visible on the monitors; the rest was for continuity.))
Alex woke up in a foul-smelling bathroom, surrounded by rubble and his own dried blood, and remembered everything. Things he'd said. Things he'd thought. Things he'd done.
And his death.
His room was close by. Eventually, when he felt able to move, he went there. He found clothes that weren't torn and brittle and stained that dark brown-red. Now the feed flicks on without his realising it, to show him sitting on the floor in his darkened room, back against the foot of his bed, arms around his knees, staring at nothing. Behind him and to the right, the bank of camcorders is a quiet silhouette, one of the recording lights finally blinking again.
At one point, he lifts his hand and moves it over his face, his completely human face. Then he lowers the arm and is still again.
The feed times out after about ten minutes. ]
((ooc: only the stuff after "the feed flicks on" is visible on the monitors; the rest was for continuity.))
no subject
There was nothing you could have done to influence the mansion's course and you had your own health to worry about.
[ And while we're on the subject of keeping a perfectly neutral tone while talking about things that clearly make Alex a horrible and selfish bastard: ]
I saw you talking to Sinclair on the transmission you sent from my room. Did you meet with him?
[ Understandably there is also a hint of concern in her voice. ]
no subject
His hand is shaking. He lowers it. ]
I just... want to forget about this.
no subject
She smiles warmly and gives it a small nod. ]
If that is what you want.
[ And in an apropos fashion she asks: ]
If you would prefer to have some time to yourself now...?
no subject
Hit by the urge to escape, he remembers how he dealt the last time he refused to acknowledge an ordeal. He mustn't repeat that mistake, even if it's taken him four whole years to realise that it was in some ways a mistake.
He mustn't let those three weeks become another Operator.
But he does have to be alone, he realises. Not just alone, away. Somewhere he didn't spend a lot of time before. This room's seen too much. Even the shower's a nasty trigger. Even sitting on his bed makes him remember being spliced, in a horribly confusing, smashed-together way that's all of the good bits as well as all of the bad. ]
...Yeah.
Just. Just for a while.
[ He prays she doesn't take it the wrong way. ]
no subject
[ Sigh. Goodbye Alex's couch. Goodbye, eye-pleasing fern. ]
Take care.