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[27th consult: video]
Nov. 25th, 2009 10:03 pm[How exactly the device has turned on is anyone's guess; it's probable that, like many things in the City, it's got a mind of its own. And really, what could a small electronic device aspire to more than humiliating its owner for the entire City to see? Especially when its owner has been hiding in his room weathering a severe curse for several days, avoiding even those he knows very well - including his best friend and roommate.
Whatever its reasons may be, Wilson's device has begun transmitting a video feed. It's resting on his dresser, where it has a clear view of his bed. It's quite likely that the mass underneath the cover is, in fact, Wilson, but given that whoever happens to be in the bed is entirely covered by the blanket, it's not clear right away. Until, of course, if one listens closely, you hear a low, worn-down, very tired voice from under the blanket which nearly moans;]
Stop... stop it... stop it...
[Those who know him may recognize Wilson's voice, though it sounds rather hollowed-out compared to how it usually would. Any suspicions as to who, exactly, is complaining from under the covers are confirmed when they're tossed violently aside enough that he can sit up, grab a book off the nightstand, and hurl it at a spot next to the bed - where, of course, it proceeds to fly right into the wall. Breathing in ragged gasps with a light sweat on his face, pale with bags under his eyes, he looks more haunted than tired. He hisses at the spot the book was thrown towards.]
Don't you dare bring Danny into this!
This isn't... I'm not...
[He falls back onto the pillow, staring blankly at the ceiling and drawing in a slow, unsteady breath.]
I'm not crazy.
[His declaration sounds more like he's trying to convince himself than anything else of this questionable fact; the fear in his tone or in the tension on his face is not beyond detection. He closes his eyes, jaw shaking only slightly as he releases another breath. Deep, slow and deliberate.]
[ooc: Wilson's been cursed with an especially malicious incarnation of Shadowplay since Saturday, which has been reminding him of everything he's ever failed at. A slight variant on the curse, darkness does not make it go away and it is not visible to anyone else, nor does it have any physical abilities. Thanks to it, he's been hiding out since late on Sunday, avoiding absolutely everyone and everything. Replies however you like, and open to action if; (a) Molly feels like it, or; (b) your character would dare to enter House's Houseof Whining, where Wilson happens to live but knows better than to say is his in any way.]
Whatever its reasons may be, Wilson's device has begun transmitting a video feed. It's resting on his dresser, where it has a clear view of his bed. It's quite likely that the mass underneath the cover is, in fact, Wilson, but given that whoever happens to be in the bed is entirely covered by the blanket, it's not clear right away. Until, of course, if one listens closely, you hear a low, worn-down, very tired voice from under the blanket which nearly moans;]
Stop... stop it... stop it...
[Those who know him may recognize Wilson's voice, though it sounds rather hollowed-out compared to how it usually would. Any suspicions as to who, exactly, is complaining from under the covers are confirmed when they're tossed violently aside enough that he can sit up, grab a book off the nightstand, and hurl it at a spot next to the bed - where, of course, it proceeds to fly right into the wall. Breathing in ragged gasps with a light sweat on his face, pale with bags under his eyes, he looks more haunted than tired. He hisses at the spot the book was thrown towards.]
Don't you dare bring Danny into this!
This isn't... I'm not...
[He falls back onto the pillow, staring blankly at the ceiling and drawing in a slow, unsteady breath.]
I'm not crazy.
[His declaration sounds more like he's trying to convince himself than anything else of this questionable fact; the fear in his tone or in the tension on his face is not beyond detection. He closes his eyes, jaw shaking only slightly as he releases another breath. Deep, slow and deliberate.]
[ooc: Wilson's been cursed with an especially malicious incarnation of Shadowplay since Saturday, which has been reminding him of everything he's ever failed at. A slight variant on the curse, darkness does not make it go away and it is not visible to anyone else, nor does it have any physical abilities. Thanks to it, he's been hiding out since late on Sunday, avoiding absolutely everyone and everything. Replies however you like, and open to action if; (a) Molly feels like it, or; (b) your character would dare to enter House's House
