m i c h a e l. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
slukhtis) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
driftfleet2015-04-20 12:55 pm
slukhtis) wrote in driftfleet2015-04-20 12:55 pm
Entry tags:
0 0 1.
Who: Michael & you??
Broadcast: Fleetwide.
Action: Marsiva, like there is anyone THERE RIGHT NOW.
When: Idk the 20th? Let say that??? don't ask me.
[ The feed flicks on and he is upside down, giving the thing the same sort of look someone would give a person who turned out to have two extra heads talking in tongues. Or if those two heads were actually snakes, or dragons. Michael turns it until he appears on an angle, then shakes it, disrupting the feed with a few erratic shakes. ]
It's broken. [ He announces to practically no one, his voice is rough - gravely - as if he hasn't been using it for a while. ] This is fucking stupid. Send me back I'd rather deal with the bullshit tower and dumb robots. I had a comfy bed there, and a room, and people that didn't smell like shit. Or rotting bodies.
[ Last he remembers Robin's still there, along with all some other people he can't be bothered remembering the names of (Tabby, he remembers Tabby at least). He'll be pissed if he disappears again. Michael scoffs, leaning back and lifting the camera above his head. ]
This place also looks like shit. Couldn't kill you to add a few more colors in here or something, my damn eyes feel like they're gonna melt.
Broadcast: Fleetwide.
Action: Marsiva, like there is anyone THERE RIGHT NOW.
When: Idk the 20th? Let say that??? don't ask me.
[ The feed flicks on and he is upside down, giving the thing the same sort of look someone would give a person who turned out to have two extra heads talking in tongues. Or if those two heads were actually snakes, or dragons. Michael turns it until he appears on an angle, then shakes it, disrupting the feed with a few erratic shakes. ]
It's broken. [ He announces to practically no one, his voice is rough - gravely - as if he hasn't been using it for a while. ] This is fucking stupid. Send me back I'd rather deal with the bullshit tower and dumb robots. I had a comfy bed there, and a room, and people that didn't smell like shit. Or rotting bodies.
[ Last he remembers Robin's still there, along with all some other people he can't be bothered remembering the names of (Tabby, he remembers Tabby at least). He'll be pissed if he disappears again. Michael scoffs, leaning back and lifting the camera above his head. ]
This place also looks like shit. Couldn't kill you to add a few more colors in here or something, my damn eyes feel like they're gonna melt.
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[he has been. forgotten. he hasn't thought about him in months. and now that he's here he wants to shut him out--while fighting the rising fear that if he turns this feed off, he's going to disappear again.]
Look, there's a frequency number in your communicator. Find it, tell it to me. We can talk there.
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Don't leave, don't abandon me. ]
Fine.
[ It takes him a moment to find but he finds it, repeating the number half-heartedly. He's frustrated, panicked, caged. Hates it, hates this, hates the stupid fucking communicator, hates space. ]
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I'll send these wolves running.
[--he cuts the feed.]