Liin Terallo
Character
The recording light blinked red. I looked at it for several seconds before reaching forward and switching it off again. "No." The word escaped with a quiet sigh. I deleted the recording without watching it back. Somehow, speaking to a holocamera always felt more difficult than speaking to another person. At least in conversation there were pauses to fill, expressions to read, and something to react to. A recording simply waited with infinite patience while I attempted to decide how much of myself belonged inside of it.
The second attempt lasted nearly a minute before I stopped that one as well. It was too formal.
The third somehow managed to become an accidental report on atmospheric conditions, local supply shortages, and an entirely unnecessary observation regarding the quality of wine in the sector. I deleted that one too.
Eventually I leaned back in the chair and rubbed at my eyes. "This is ridiculous."
The apartment answered with silence. Outside, rain traced lazy paths across the window while somewhere overhead the small winged biomass creature Mr. Usher had insisted that I take chirped softly from atop a cupboard. It watched me with the unmistakable expression of something convinced it could solve this problem if only it possessed opposable thumbs. "I appreciate the confidence," I murmured.
It chirped again.
Drawing a slow breath, I activated the recorder one final time. The small indicator illuminated. "Hello, Mister Dashiell." A faint smile found me. "It's been a while, and I thought that I should let you know that I'm still alive."
I hesitated briefly before continuing."I don't actually have very much to report." Another small smile appeared. "Which, considering the last few years, is probably the best report that I've been able to give." I folded one hand over the other in front of me.
"I'm alive. And I'm keeping a low profile. As far as I can tell, I'm no longer on anyone's immediate list of priorities." The words sounded strange spoken aloud. "I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to say that."
For a moment my eyes drifted toward the rain beyond the window. "I've been....existing, I suppose. Reading. Travelling when necessary. Trying very hard not to become interesting again." There was a quiet amusement in that admission. "So far, I've been reasonably successful."
A thoughtful silence settled before I continued. "I still keep an eye on certain developments. Old habits die hard. But otherwise...there really isn't much else to report." The admission should have sounded disappointing. But instead, it felt peaceful to me.
"I hope that things have been quieter for you as well. If they haven't..." A faint smile returned. "...then try not to make too many headlines." I paused, considering whether anything more needed saying. But nothing came to mind. "Take care of yourself, Mister Dashiell. I'll check in again if anything changes."
The recording ended with a soft click. For a few moments I simply watched the frozen image staring back at me from the holoprojector. Then, before I could convince myself to revise it again, I pressed send.
Tag:
Balun Dashiell
The second attempt lasted nearly a minute before I stopped that one as well. It was too formal.
The third somehow managed to become an accidental report on atmospheric conditions, local supply shortages, and an entirely unnecessary observation regarding the quality of wine in the sector. I deleted that one too.
Eventually I leaned back in the chair and rubbed at my eyes. "This is ridiculous."
The apartment answered with silence. Outside, rain traced lazy paths across the window while somewhere overhead the small winged biomass creature Mr. Usher had insisted that I take chirped softly from atop a cupboard. It watched me with the unmistakable expression of something convinced it could solve this problem if only it possessed opposable thumbs. "I appreciate the confidence," I murmured.
It chirped again.
Drawing a slow breath, I activated the recorder one final time. The small indicator illuminated. "Hello, Mister Dashiell." A faint smile found me. "It's been a while, and I thought that I should let you know that I'm still alive."
I hesitated briefly before continuing."I don't actually have very much to report." Another small smile appeared. "Which, considering the last few years, is probably the best report that I've been able to give." I folded one hand over the other in front of me.
"I'm alive. And I'm keeping a low profile. As far as I can tell, I'm no longer on anyone's immediate list of priorities." The words sounded strange spoken aloud. "I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to say that."
For a moment my eyes drifted toward the rain beyond the window. "I've been....existing, I suppose. Reading. Travelling when necessary. Trying very hard not to become interesting again." There was a quiet amusement in that admission. "So far, I've been reasonably successful."
A thoughtful silence settled before I continued. "I still keep an eye on certain developments. Old habits die hard. But otherwise...there really isn't much else to report." The admission should have sounded disappointing. But instead, it felt peaceful to me.
"I hope that things have been quieter for you as well. If they haven't..." A faint smile returned. "...then try not to make too many headlines." I paused, considering whether anything more needed saying. But nothing came to mind. "Take care of yourself, Mister Dashiell. I'll check in again if anything changes."
The recording ended with a soft click. For a few moments I simply watched the frozen image staring back at me from the holoprojector. Then, before I could convince myself to revise it again, I pressed send.
Tag: