![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
001 { video } un: PRONGS
[ thankfully enough, james somehow managed not to hit send on the impressively awful posts he had started to type up/has been typing up for the better portion of about three hours. something to also note: this typing and not sending has all been happening while nursing a couple of bottles of alcohol, all of which can kind of be seen floating a bit awkwardly in the background when the video finally comes to life.
in the foreground, though, is james, looking tired and a bit of a mess. his words are slurred when he speaks, his movements carrying that fluid weight that is telling (if the slurring already wasn’t) to just how much alcohol he’s been consuming. and while he’s not holding a bottle in the video, he does seem to look right off the screen for a longer moment than necessary, as if he’s trying to decide if it’s worth reaching, but decides against it. ]
We’re-all foockin’ cursed, ‘ren’t we? [ his words trip over themselves, stumbling and rolling to a stop. the worst part is that james seems to notice and pause. then he blinks, and then another, before he seems to focus back on the camera. ] Like- you ever think maybe we shouldn’ta been woken up in the first place? Mayb’ none of us shoulda been. ‘Cause have you noticed how many are gettin’ sent back? ‘hoo just are here an' then aren’t? I’ve had- [ his face drops for a second, out of the drunken anger/annoyance/general upset demeanor to something darker, something pained.
but then he takes a breath, and the look fades. ]
Doesn’ matter. But ‘as anyone noticed? That somethin’s off? There’s gotta be something, right? A show, clue, whatev’r? There ‘as the sic’ness an' all, an' the pilotin’ instead of the transport, but-
[ he stops, his eyes going a bit wide for half a moment as he looks off the screen. was that a burp? or...yeah, let’s not go there. he takes the second, but then reaches down next to where he’s sitting and pulls up his wand, reaching to grab one of the hovering bottles and tapping it with the end of his wand. in a matter of seconds, the bottle refills with a dark brown liquid.
james hiccups, then takes a swig from the bottle. ]
Oh, also- [ he sways a second where he sits, before turning back to the camera. ] 'nyone want whiskey? Rations are short an' all that but I’ve got. [ he grins, waving his wand and bottle to the camera. sorry olympia. should he have mentioned that before? ] Jus lemme know.
[ and then the feed cuts. ]
in the foreground, though, is james, looking tired and a bit of a mess. his words are slurred when he speaks, his movements carrying that fluid weight that is telling (if the slurring already wasn’t) to just how much alcohol he’s been consuming. and while he’s not holding a bottle in the video, he does seem to look right off the screen for a longer moment than necessary, as if he’s trying to decide if it’s worth reaching, but decides against it. ]
We’re-all foockin’ cursed, ‘ren’t we? [ his words trip over themselves, stumbling and rolling to a stop. the worst part is that james seems to notice and pause. then he blinks, and then another, before he seems to focus back on the camera. ] Like- you ever think maybe we shouldn’ta been woken up in the first place? Mayb’ none of us shoulda been. ‘Cause have you noticed how many are gettin’ sent back? ‘hoo just are here an' then aren’t? I’ve had- [ his face drops for a second, out of the drunken anger/annoyance/general upset demeanor to something darker, something pained.
but then he takes a breath, and the look fades. ]
Doesn’ matter. But ‘as anyone noticed? That somethin’s off? There’s gotta be something, right? A show, clue, whatev’r? There ‘as the sic’ness an' all, an' the pilotin’ instead of the transport, but-
[ he stops, his eyes going a bit wide for half a moment as he looks off the screen. was that a burp? or...yeah, let’s not go there. he takes the second, but then reaches down next to where he’s sitting and pulls up his wand, reaching to grab one of the hovering bottles and tapping it with the end of his wand. in a matter of seconds, the bottle refills with a dark brown liquid.
james hiccups, then takes a swig from the bottle. ]
Oh, also- [ he sways a second where he sits, before turning back to the camera. ] 'nyone want whiskey? Rations are short an' all that but I’ve got. [ he grins, waving his wand and bottle to the camera. sorry olympia. should he have mentioned that before? ] Jus lemme know.
[ and then the feed cuts. ]
no subject
And dozens of miles high. It was quite the sight.