Shinjiro Aragaki (荒垣 真次郎) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
themortalhalf) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
compnetwork2012-10-22 06:46 pm
themortalhalf) wrote in compnetwork2012-10-22 06:46 pm
[Accidental Voice/Video ->Text; Backdated to Morning]
[The feed begins with noise.
It's sharp, sudden. No video, just the sound of something being roughly rummaged through, with no apparent concern about being quiet or subtle about the affair, before it's shoved away across some surface—falling. Hitting the floor. A box, maybe, with something in it.
Then, a voice: tense, frustrated, uneven, breathing rapid, shallow, and unsteady, words strained and laced with panic.]
Dammit.
Where did—
[More noise.
Then, abruptly, the video feed flickers to life. There's a glimpse of a hand touching the screen, shaking, before the device is quickly shoved away. It slides along the surface of an apparent desk, catching a brief glimpse of a ceiling as it tumbles onto the floor, landing not far away from a cardboard box and a beat-up looking radio. The room it lies in is one dimly lit—the only light provided is due to the streaks of sunlight peeking in from the gaps in the curtain and blind-covered window. Makes it hard to discern much in the way of detail, but it's enough to make out a bed shoved at an odd, jutting angle—nearly shoved up against the closet—with tangled covers. A sign of some sort in front of the long curtain that's covering (as anyone familiar with the layout of the apartments might deduce) the entrance to the balcony, and then, finally, an obscured half-view of the desk shoved against a door. There's more movement off camera, sounds of a drawer being pulled open and gone through, until, finally, there's a quieter sound—perhaps of a lid popping open and its contents retrieved— followed by a period of silence.
Not long afterward, Shinjiro finally steps into view, crossing the room and sliding slowly down onto his bed.]
Shit. Can't even—
[He looks down then, eyes settling on the COMP on the floor. He stares at it for a few moments, grimacing, before standing up again, movement unsteady, reaching down to swipe it up off the floor. If he notices the feed is still recording, he doesn't show it, and the feed, after a moment, cuts off.
Then, a few minutes later, a message:]
[Failed Filter/Private Message to the P3 cast]
i dont know where you all are but get back home and stay the hell inside
just do it alright
It's sharp, sudden. No video, just the sound of something being roughly rummaged through, with no apparent concern about being quiet or subtle about the affair, before it's shoved away across some surface—falling. Hitting the floor. A box, maybe, with something in it.
Then, a voice: tense, frustrated, uneven, breathing rapid, shallow, and unsteady, words strained and laced with panic.]
Dammit.
Where did—
[More noise.
Then, abruptly, the video feed flickers to life. There's a glimpse of a hand touching the screen, shaking, before the device is quickly shoved away. It slides along the surface of an apparent desk, catching a brief glimpse of a ceiling as it tumbles onto the floor, landing not far away from a cardboard box and a beat-up looking radio. The room it lies in is one dimly lit—the only light provided is due to the streaks of sunlight peeking in from the gaps in the curtain and blind-covered window. Makes it hard to discern much in the way of detail, but it's enough to make out a bed shoved at an odd, jutting angle—nearly shoved up against the closet—with tangled covers. A sign of some sort in front of the long curtain that's covering (as anyone familiar with the layout of the apartments might deduce) the entrance to the balcony, and then, finally, an obscured half-view of the desk shoved against a door. There's more movement off camera, sounds of a drawer being pulled open and gone through, until, finally, there's a quieter sound—perhaps of a lid popping open and its contents retrieved— followed by a period of silence.
Not long afterward, Shinjiro finally steps into view, crossing the room and sliding slowly down onto his bed.]
Shit. Can't even—
[He looks down then, eyes settling on the COMP on the floor. He stares at it for a few moments, grimacing, before standing up again, movement unsteady, reaching down to swipe it up off the floor. If he notices the feed is still recording, he doesn't show it, and the feed, after a moment, cuts off.
Then, a few minutes later, a message:]
[Failed Filter/Private Message to the P3 cast]
i dont know where you all are but get back home and stay the hell inside
just do it alright
[Text]
I'm not the one being cryptic and just expecting everyone else to do what I say.
[Text] -- > Voice
just call it a hunch
[And he doubts the truth is something he'd want to hear. He certainly doesn't want to write it down or say it out loud himself. He knows it sounds crazy. And shit, maybe he is. But he could also be right. He stops texting then, breathing in, gritting his teeth, and switching to voice. Because, shit, it was becoming hard to type when your hands insisted on being erratic. It was starting to feel like he was playing a game of dyslexic scrabble.
He fights to keep his voice level, but it fluctuates despite his wishes.]
Staying in one place ain't gonna hurt anything but your damn pride.
[Voice]
You know that if you're in danger and I can do something to help, that if I don't, if something happens to you... I'll never be able to forgive myself.
If you tell me what's going on, and I know you're okay, then fine. I'll listen.
[Voice]
[Listen? He'll might listen, sure, but he'll still keep his feet moving.
But what reason would Aki have to believe him? This isn't something he can cite proof of. Just voices in his head that could be shit wrong for all he knows, and he's just aware enough to know that would sound delusional, but whatever it is that's coming (or not), it's too dangerous to ignore or not be cautious. Not when that something is probably going to be lethal. It's not safe anywhere, but he can buy them time and place them where they need to be.]
Don't hear monsters breaking down my door, do you? If I was was deep in something, I'd have solved it. [Had this been video, there would have been a humorless hint of a smile. As wry as anything ever was. They both know how each other operates.] Or be dead. Either one.
[Not like it matters. We're all going to die, you know. Just wait and see.]
[Voice]
I'm going to find Miki, but don't think I'm done with you.
[The fact that Shinjiro isn't exactly being forthcoming with answers only makes him worry more. Like hell he's going to let you get yourself killed, even to ensure the safety of others. Things might not be that dire just yet, but he honestly wouldn't be surprised. Shinji always wants to handle things on his own, without telling anyone else what he's up to.
Aki wasn't very fond of how that turned out last time.]
Nobody's dying, though. Not today.
[Voice]
[Look at that. He's being helpful.
Though she might not be there for long. But he can keep an eye on her. He knows he'll do that. May not keep her out of trouble so much as drag her into it because they are both pretty have iron and lightning running through their veins, but he'd rather they were together in the end.
He almost smirks at the last bit though. Almost. If only because nobody gets it. Why doesn't everyone feel like this? Isn't it obvious something is going to happen, or is everyone else just ignorant and blind besides him? Won't even take a warning. It might be vague, but he means every word.]
No, [he says finally, like it's some kind of revelation.] not today. Tomorrow, maybe.
[Not today. He knows what waiting to die feels like. This is it. A bit different. But similar. They're all just waiting.]
[Voice]
[He knew he had been taking it a little far, talking about dying, but--]
Shinji, what are you talking about?
[Voice]
Not that he can blame Aki for being skeptical when everything is apparently fine, but it would be nice for someone to say that they believed him without having him prove everything beyond a shadow of a doubt, and just be careful for a little while, even if nothing's wrong and he's just fucking crazy.
Even if he's not sure what to believe himself.]
Nothing you'd listen to me about. [No one understands because they can't. And it's frustrating. It almost supersedes the fear and panic for a moment, and edges into his voice like a knife.] So might as well not bother. Might as well just go along like you always do.
[Wait until the hammer falls.]
Re: [Voice]
I'd listen. You're clearly not going to explain, so just do me one favor. Just promise me you're alright, if you can do that honestly. I'll stay with Miki and check on Mitsuru, but your safety is important to me, too.
[Voice]
You... haven't heard from Mitsuru?
[Well, shit, is what his mind says to that.
And now that he thinks about it, he hasn't heard from her either. Feels panic start to bubble to the surface again, because he's heard from everyone but her. And she wouldn't... not answer, would she, if she had the choice?]
[Voice]
[Mitsuru is nothing if not proactive.]
[Voice]
Go check on her first.
[Is what he says.
Because something's probably wrong.
That's what he doesn't say.
Because something is wrong.
(See? is what the voices in his head tell him. See?)
He wants to tell him to run, to take the stairs to her apartment three at a time and break down her goddamn door if he has to, because as far as his mind is concerned, they all have a death warrant with their name on. The numbers on their lifelines are counting down and he can't see them. But he keeps the urgency down to a quiet, unseen exclamation point that's doing all it's screaming with no voice, wrapped up mutely inside a period.]
Go now.
[Voice]
[Similarly concerned, he quickly cuts the connection and goes from zero to sixty in just about no time flat. You can bet he's taking those stairs at least three at a time, because considering all that's going on, he's suddenly exponentially more worried than he already was.]