eachdraidh | second shot ☢ VOICE - VIDEO (open to seelie & unseelie)

[It's take a lot of building himself up to making this broadcast. First, he starts with voice. ]

Err - listen, Jem, if you're listening in, close your locket over.

[It's an odd thing to say, but when Kieren switches to video, it should become apparent why. He's bare faced, eyes white with star burst pupils. The more they get used to the light, the more they'll start to look like pin-pricks as the video goes on. There's dark, purple-blue circles under his eyes and a yellowish tint around them. His mouth is blue and slightly black at the sides. He swallows out of habit, the feeling of a phantom lump lingering in his throat.

He looks like death, quite literally. There's a reason he's been mostly using the audio option to communicate. ]

I guess I just wanted to offer full disclosure here. To both courts, really.

[He chews his lower lip. ] So, some of you know my sister already? I don't know how much she's told you about home, if she has at all. But she might have mentioned something called 'The Rising'. You can probably tell where this is going.

[He has no idea how Simon can be so confident about what he is, at home. He wishes he were here now, for support. ]

If she hasn't, well - the dead rose from their graves and started eating brains for a while. It was - well. It wasn't really ideal. I was one of them.

[Well - it feels sort of good to have that off his chest. ] I'm better now, obviously. No brain eating or anything like that. No eating much of anything, really. I just wanted to be honest, I suppose. Better that than keeping it a dirty secret.

[He sucks in a breath. ] So yeah. That's that, then.

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[He laughs, just a little. ]

The medicine we take only restores brain cells. I'm still dead, technically. The stuff in my veins that keeps me moving isn't even blood anymore.

[And he twitches an ambiguous uneven something-like-a small crooked tic of a smile, good that that wasn't a case of misspeaking, at least...]

Odd -- though... I thought that those of us who've died in the past were, ah - restored - here.

Unless, uh -- for those whose souls are still in touch with their bodies it wasn't a need. [Those whose souls are still physically in touch and are consciously in tact, for that matter.]

I don't know about souls but - I'm pretty much fully functional. I'm guessing being mostly immortal seemed appealing to the monarchs, too.

That's fortunate. [It's a bit unfocused and trailing, enough to sound like "'ss fortunate".

Unless it isn't, he doesn't know it isn't. Tiny flinch with a throat clear and a twinge in his brow.] - I think. I, err -

[In truth he's got a couple private comments and would-be questions floating through his head that assume adherence to certain rules. The entire fact of being here with the sorts of people who are here prove it pointless to jump to conclusions and chase after. Inflection turns up uncertainly to a dragged-out heightening and roughening at the edges - ]

I mean -- would you prefer it this way?

[There's a long moment where he doesn't answer. Obvious, perhaps, that he's considered this often.]

I've made my peace with it. This is who I am, now.

[It would be obvious, wouldn't it.]

Er -- hence that you're here as so, I suppose... It's a backtrack to a previous note and a trailing suggestion.

He wasn't asked, but it's less commonality than contrast to anything he's known that keeps him speaking - rings up his voice for a clearer re-start.]

I was uhm. I um. Spent -- quite a lot of time dead but - not. I suppose... [He lacks authority to call it "in a similar way", and not a clue if there any terms in which to talk about this most tactfully and/or least-disturbingly, alas.] -- I'm just as I was before that, now; I-I suppose that's why I thought it was, er...

Interesting, that -- it's not the same case. With the both of us.

Edited 2014-08-18 21:05 (UTC)

[There's a part of him that's momentarily jealous. He's supposed to be okay with himself now. Being human is a whole lifetime ago, after all. But he feels the envy in his gut. ]

How'd you manage that?

I-I had been killed between then and now - umm. Put to - put to rest -- I suppose.

[He's uncertain if he ought to feel guilty or ashamed of himself for having taken it upon himself to bring that up, whether it was appropriate or simply unnecessary - carries on anyway, though the syllables are stumbling together just a little.] 'M uncertain if that is why -- or ex - exactly what it means - as to - as to why it should be different. Or why it would have to be.

[He's got another hypothesis, one that it's a matter of identity and-or functionality, but that's the most active possible difference between them he can suggest.]

I was put to rest too.

[He pauses, doesn't know where to begin in thinking up theories on how they could be so different. ]

You're lucky, then. Back home we're all like this.

[One crossed out, then. Back to the other.

And, oh dear, "lucky" is the least unfair way this could've worked out on his end.]

Like uh -- you, you mean. Still -- sane.

[Clears his throat; swear this is only meant as frank matter of fact, for what difference it could possibly made.] -- I wasn't. I, uh -- was like that for centuries; -- it drove me mad.

Perhaps I was --

...simply brought into a condition in which... I was more myself. [Thins, lightens, and floats off in a metaphorical passing breeze, sincere apologies if that was a bit more than anyone cared to know or if this is dragging it out, period.]

Yeah. I remember bits and pieces from when I - ate people. It was all consuming; there wasn't any space for rationality or sanity. I was just so hungry. I think I was angry, too. I think I was really angry.

Edited 2014-09-10 21:00 (UTC)

second shot ☢ VOICE - VIDEO (open to seelie & unseelie)

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