![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
DEBBIE DOWNER STRIKES AGAIN: a video
Oct. 9th, 2014 02:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
broroonaWho: bawhona Baroona
Broadcast: video
Action: SS Marsiva hospitality deck
When: idk 10/9 late at night, whenever that is
[The camera's set at an upward angle, as if placed on the floor. It shows a sliver of one of the hospitality deck windows and a man leaning against it, smoking. His clothing choices are... strange; a bright orange ski hat, a pair of pink and black gloves that might seem familiar-it seems more like a collection than an outfit. When he moves exhaustion slows him and though expressionless, there's a cloud of sadness that lingers around him.
Basically, he's being a moody spaceshit at some ungodly hour. Hi.]
You know-[He taps his knuckles against the windows, knocking some ash from his cigarette in the process.]-I used to watch the sky back home. Sounds dumb but there was something comforting about it.
[Sighing out a cloud of smoke, he stands up straight, slipping the cigarette between his lips again. His tone shifts from wistful to dry.] This view sucks. They're not stars anymore like this. Just places that are too far away.
[With another sigh, he frowns briefly, turning and pressing his back against the view, scrubbing at his hair. Looking way too done with all of this.]
I'm tired. Talking too much. [He kicks the comm, turning the camera so that it's looking straight out the window. A full view of the stars.] If you're awake, humor me. Which do you think is your home?
Broadcast: video
Action: SS Marsiva hospitality deck
When: idk 10/9 late at night, whenever that is
[The camera's set at an upward angle, as if placed on the floor. It shows a sliver of one of the hospitality deck windows and a man leaning against it, smoking. His clothing choices are... strange; a bright orange ski hat, a pair of pink and black gloves that might seem familiar-it seems more like a collection than an outfit. When he moves exhaustion slows him and though expressionless, there's a cloud of sadness that lingers around him.
Basically, he's being a moody spaceshit at some ungodly hour. Hi.]
You know-[He taps his knuckles against the windows, knocking some ash from his cigarette in the process.]-I used to watch the sky back home. Sounds dumb but there was something comforting about it.
[Sighing out a cloud of smoke, he stands up straight, slipping the cigarette between his lips again. His tone shifts from wistful to dry.] This view sucks. They're not stars anymore like this. Just places that are too far away.
[With another sigh, he frowns briefly, turning and pressing his back against the view, scrubbing at his hair. Looking way too done with all of this.]
I'm tired. Talking too much. [He kicks the comm, turning the camera so that it's looking straight out the window. A full view of the stars.] If you're awake, humor me. Which do you think is your home?
