-14.5 ml- [Voice/Video]
Feb. 27th, 2010 06:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pilot_princessHere, Gulliver, hold this by the door, okay? There's too much glass here.
[Anemone's shuffling through her apartment. There's the soft splash of melting puddles of snow and the crunching of shoes pressing against glass. Gulliver sniffs at the device curiously, and his paws tap the communicator a few times, until, alas, video! His nose and paw are the first sight, before he just pulls back and sniffs the air.
He squeaks. Something between a soft wail and his typical gurgle. He's not too happy, it sounds. But of course not; the apartment's basically a nightmare behind him. He's sitting on a shredded pillow and a few towels. After a few seconds, he turns the communicator over to show Anemone. Her room's shown at this point: papers from the wall are either crinkled and drying, or lying in puddles or soaked on the floor. The ground's wet from the snow that had seeped in. Her bed's a mess, basically the mattress and growing mold from the snow. A few articles of clothing lie around the room.
And the pink princess herself, kneeling over a soaked cardboard box in the corner of her messy room, clutching a black jacket with red trim, and previously-white fabric that's now stained brown and gray.
Silence falls for a minute. But Anemone starts moving again, pushing the white fabric back into the box. Anemone moves again, and Gulliver shifts, dropping the communicator and crawling over it. The view obscured by his pudgy bum for a moment. He's asking what she's doing. Anemone moves a metal-sounding case against the rough floor. The click of a latch. Soft, bubbling liquid. Footsteps. Gulliver moves again, allowing half of the screen to show. It's now pointed at the ceiling.
As Anemone walks past, her arm swings into view, receptor in hand. The needle's out.]
Stay on the pillow, Gulliver.
[And the door shuts.]
[[ooc: Responses from Anemone will be ICly delayed around half an hour. She's got drugs to take. :| So you get to talk to Gulliver for a while.]]
[Anemone's shuffling through her apartment. There's the soft splash of melting puddles of snow and the crunching of shoes pressing against glass. Gulliver sniffs at the device curiously, and his paws tap the communicator a few times, until, alas, video! His nose and paw are the first sight, before he just pulls back and sniffs the air.
He squeaks. Something between a soft wail and his typical gurgle. He's not too happy, it sounds. But of course not; the apartment's basically a nightmare behind him. He's sitting on a shredded pillow and a few towels. After a few seconds, he turns the communicator over to show Anemone. Her room's shown at this point: papers from the wall are either crinkled and drying, or lying in puddles or soaked on the floor. The ground's wet from the snow that had seeped in. Her bed's a mess, basically the mattress and growing mold from the snow. A few articles of clothing lie around the room.
And the pink princess herself, kneeling over a soaked cardboard box in the corner of her messy room, clutching a black jacket with red trim, and previously-white fabric that's now stained brown and gray.
Silence falls for a minute. But Anemone starts moving again, pushing the white fabric back into the box. Anemone moves again, and Gulliver shifts, dropping the communicator and crawling over it. The view obscured by his pudgy bum for a moment. He's asking what she's doing. Anemone moves a metal-sounding case against the rough floor. The click of a latch. Soft, bubbling liquid. Footsteps. Gulliver moves again, allowing half of the screen to show. It's now pointed at the ceiling.
As Anemone walks past, her arm swings into view, receptor in hand. The needle's out.]
Stay on the pillow, Gulliver.
[And the door shuts.]
[[ooc: Responses from Anemone will be ICly delayed around half an hour. She's got drugs to take. :| So you get to talk to Gulliver for a while.]]
