Angua von Uberwald (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
scentbombed) wrote2012-10-24 08:51 pm
scentbombed) wrote2012-10-24 08:51 pm
Entry 22: Video / Spam
[Private to random recipients and Ben]
[The young Delphine Angua von Uberwald doesn't know how to work her communicator with the same aplomb as her older self -- not enough, at least, to know how to filter to inmates, especially given that she's not clear on the whole warden/inmate division to begin with. She's managed to work out the private function, though, and she knows that this is not a message that should be sent to everyone, so she hits a few names that look likely for one reason or another, largely at random.
The sight of her is probably not what anyone who knows the adult Angua would expect: for one thing, she's crying, and openly so. Her face is bright red and tearstained, eyes wide with what looks like terror. She has her back pressed against the bars of a Zero cell. When she speaks, it's a little hard to understand, not only because of the choked timbre but also the thickness of her Germanish accent.]
Please, whoever is out there, please, you must help me. My name is Delphine. Some people, they -- they've put me in a cage at the bottom of this place, and I don't know how to get out. They just locked me up here and left me all alone, and... [She sniffles fitfully, voice tightening, weepy.] I don't know what to do...
[Open spam, later]
[Sprung free by the strange not-quite-human boy, a much more cheerful-looking Angua pads through the halls, tracing along more carefully now to avoid the particular humans whose scent is practically still -- ugh -- invading her nostrils from when they'd grabbed her before. By now she's starving, though, and eager for further prey...]
[The young Delphine Angua von Uberwald doesn't know how to work her communicator with the same aplomb as her older self -- not enough, at least, to know how to filter to inmates, especially given that she's not clear on the whole warden/inmate division to begin with. She's managed to work out the private function, though, and she knows that this is not a message that should be sent to everyone, so she hits a few names that look likely for one reason or another, largely at random.
The sight of her is probably not what anyone who knows the adult Angua would expect: for one thing, she's crying, and openly so. Her face is bright red and tearstained, eyes wide with what looks like terror. She has her back pressed against the bars of a Zero cell. When she speaks, it's a little hard to understand, not only because of the choked timbre but also the thickness of her Germanish accent.]
Please, whoever is out there, please, you must help me. My name is Delphine. Some people, they -- they've put me in a cage at the bottom of this place, and I don't know how to get out. They just locked me up here and left me all alone, and... [She sniffles fitfully, voice tightening, weepy.] I don't know what to do...
[Open spam, later]
[Sprung free by the strange not-quite-human boy, a much more cheerful-looking Angua pads through the halls, tracing along more carefully now to avoid the particular humans whose scent is practically still -- ugh -- invading her nostrils from when they'd grabbed her before. By now she's starving, though, and eager for further prey...]
[Private]
[And then the light seems to dawn.] Oh. You're one of those. I've heard stories about you.
[Private]