redshiftrp | [viedo] - open - username: det.patch

[ Patch thinks she's figured out how to broadcast to the network from the terminal screen in her room. She actually begins transmitting before she realizes, and there are a few candid moments of her checking settings along the edge of the screen, clearing her throat, running one hand through her hair and sweeping a few stray strands of her long bangs back behind her ear. ]

Hello, Anchor. My name is Detective Patch.

We've, ah, been through a lot these last two weeks. I can't be the only one who's had to suspend a lot of my disbelief to wrap my head around this place. It feels unreal. Part of me want to embrace that, to cling to the assertion that this can't be happening, and let that be a comfort. I don't think it'll be productive, though. I think our best method of accepting any new situation is to connect with others in the same situation.

I know, easier said than done. Opening up is never easy, especially to a stranger... so I'll go first.

[ She takes a deep breath. ]

I died. Back home. I was shot in the back - good shot. Center mass, a little left of the sternum. I bled out quickly. It didn't hurt much. I never really dwelt on the idea of my own violent death, but I always knew there was a strong chance of it in my line of work, and I knew that a gunshot would be top of the list of possible causes. I'd always assumed it would hurt... so much more than it did.

[ She takes another deep breath. ]

So I died, which I was... sort of prepared for. Then I woke up here. I was not at all prepared for that. I'm still not. I don't know if anyone else here has had a similar experience, has died in their own world. I don't know if anyone else is having trouble processing it. If you are, you're not alone. Which also means that I'm not alone, and I have to tell you-- that's a comforting thought.

If you'd like to talk about it, I'd-- like to hear about it. Maybe we can help each other.

[ A beat. She clears her throat again, and her posture gets a little bit straighter. ]

Maybe we can all help each other. The most important thing for us to remember, for us all to remember, is that we're not alone in this place. We're not going through this alone. We can get through this. We just need to take care of one another.

If there is anything I can do for you. If you need someone to talk to, or you want to go looking for something but you're afraid to go on your own, I'm here for you. Literally right here.

[ She uses both hands, index fingers extended, to point down at her feet, and the floor she's standing on. ]

I'm in room zero-two-zero, if you'd rather talk face to face, or if you need in person help with something else. It doesn't matter if we don't know each other. I still want to help.

[ And now she's not sure what to do. Other than end her broadcast. So she nods her head, just once, and offers the camera a little hopeful smile. ]

All right. Detective Patch, signing off, and... hoping to hear from you.

[ Then her hand reaches out toward the camera, right above the screen on her wall, and her feed goes dark. ]

Threaded | Flat

Hey Detective. This is Deputy Pratt of the Hope County Sheriff's department.

[The voice sounds worn, low and gruff. Exhausted.]

Dying never gets easier. But getting shot is better than starving. Its quicker. Doesn't hurt as bad. Even if you bleed out, you know that cold feeling right before it goes black? It's that but stretched out for days.

Silver lining in all this? We never have to do paperwork again.

I've died three times.
You don't get used to waking up again. You think you might, but you don't.

[ Ben agrees with all the stuff Patch says about the importance of all helping one another and remembering they aren't alone; he appreciates this post is an offering, a gesture of openness to encourage similar gestures. And he knows he is overdue for a talk with her. But he doesn't feel up to public openness right now. So his response is sent directly to her, for her eyes only. And for once, he doesn't hide behind just text. This needs to be face-to-face.

His expression is solemn in the video; he cuts right to the chase: ]

Detective Patch. I'm really glad you're here. We need to talk.

[ Someone a little more socially savvy would ease into the conversation, introduce himself, build up to the heavy stuff. Ben is not that person. He plunges right in without even saying his name. ]

First, I want to thank you for saving my brother. I'm sorry that it got you killed. I hope you know that- that it mattered, what you did. I think you're the only reason he survived, so... you ever need anything, you just tell me, okay? I'm in your debt.

Hey, so.
We've got a shit ton in common.

[ Drake's not the type who's willing to disclose a trauma over the network, and he'd accepted his first real death before he'd even actually died... but he does also know what it feels like to not expect it, and Patch asked for similar experiences so here he is. If she wants to hear the whole story -- stories, really -- he'll swing by in person. ]

I'm sorry that happened to you.

There's kind of a disturbingly high amount of people who either died back home or died in other places they were stuck in before they got here. Never understood why or how it happens, but it is what it is I guess.

Which isn't good news at all, but you're not alone either, at least?

Voice

text; un: Poison

video | private | @lazarus

text; @holloway

text; UN: Spides