Peter Vincent (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
occultistpeter) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
dramadramaduck2012-01-11 11:08 pm
occultistpeter) wrote in dramadramaduck2012-01-11 11:08 pm
Entry tags:
[video] [intro]
[There is a click, such as that of a webcam turning on. After a moment, the video focuses on a figure.
It's a man, leaning up against a fancy bed headboard with a pillow at his back - judging from the point of view, he's balancing a computer on his lap. At first glance he's obviously human, maybe in his late thirties or early forties, and his chest, along with one of his arms, is bandaged heavily; he's tossed a dark-coloured bathrobe over the bandages and appears to be wearing nothing else, though only the top half of his body can be seen. He's holding a glass - partially filled with some sort of green liquor, and some half-melted ice cubes - in his undamaged hand. He looks very tired -something that isn't helped by the black outlining his eyes - and maybe even a little drunk.
The more observant might notice the small table next the the bed. A container of pain-killers is on top of it, as well as a tall bottle filled with the same opaque green liquid. The former is clearly labelled with a warning against taking more than two every four hours, drinking alcohol with tablets, and the like. Finally there's some sort of carved wooden object, most of it receding out of the screen's edge - ominously, it's spattered with something that may very well be blood.
The man shifts slightly, just a hint of a pained grimace on his face, and takes a gulp from his glass.]
I'm not sure why I'm here. Maybe I'm just bored. I'm bedbound, I ache, and I miss Ginger. Anyone else specific who I might want to speak with right now is just as stuck recovering as I am.
So I turn on the internet and this is the first thing that pops up. Some sort of online community, if I'm not wrong. Works for me.
If anyone feels like talking, go ahead and talk.
[He pauses, seeming to reconsider for a second.]
Unless you're a vampire. If you're a vampire, sod off.
It's a man, leaning up against a fancy bed headboard with a pillow at his back - judging from the point of view, he's balancing a computer on his lap. At first glance he's obviously human, maybe in his late thirties or early forties, and his chest, along with one of his arms, is bandaged heavily; he's tossed a dark-coloured bathrobe over the bandages and appears to be wearing nothing else, though only the top half of his body can be seen. He's holding a glass - partially filled with some sort of green liquor, and some half-melted ice cubes - in his undamaged hand. He looks very tired -something that isn't helped by the black outlining his eyes - and maybe even a little drunk.
The more observant might notice the small table next the the bed. A container of pain-killers is on top of it, as well as a tall bottle filled with the same opaque green liquid. The former is clearly labelled with a warning against taking more than two every four hours, drinking alcohol with tablets, and the like. Finally there's some sort of carved wooden object, most of it receding out of the screen's edge - ominously, it's spattered with something that may very well be blood.
The man shifts slightly, just a hint of a pained grimace on his face, and takes a gulp from his glass.]
I'm not sure why I'm here. Maybe I'm just bored. I'm bedbound, I ache, and I miss Ginger. Anyone else specific who I might want to speak with right now is just as stuck recovering as I am.
So I turn on the internet and this is the first thing that pops up. Some sort of online community, if I'm not wrong. Works for me.
If anyone feels like talking, go ahead and talk.
[He pauses, seeming to reconsider for a second.]
Unless you're a vampire. If you're a vampire, sod off.
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