KARTE 011 || されどいつわりの日々{Yet False the Days} || [Accidental Video]
[Residents of 4-6 Lien Kha? You might have a bit of a problem this morning.
On his way home last night, Kiriko happened to glance at the name plates of 4-7 as he usually does - only to find a certain person was missing. After checking to see that they have, indeed, been wormholed, he had a bit of a meltdown- that eventually lead to the room being filled with mechanical parts.
The video feed begins here. There are wires, gears, knobs, springs, magnets, oscillators, half-broken monitors, bolts, screws, electrodes, gauges, pieces of various circuit boards, soldering guns, resistors, pieces of scrap metal and rocks (is that a crystal?), and other random parts everywhere. Good luck getting anywhere in the room, because there is literally no piece of floor left uncovered. They are all from an array of gutted archaic appliances that lay abandoned against the wall, stacked about a metre high, 4-6's own personal landfill. There are some machines in the pile that have been cracked open, but still have all of their parts, in cases where Kiriko didn't understand how they worked.
A long, detailed blueprint is rolled out onto the floor, and that, too, is covered in wire and gears. Kiriko sits in the centre of it all, working with a tiny screwdriver, trying to piece two large parts together. A cigarette in his mouth, there are a circle of ashes across the floor where he sits, each part laid before him dusted in the same dark grey powder.
With his other hand, he pushes a button attached to the part. He must not have been concentrating, because in the next second, the piece whirs to life, making a loud, pretty, high-pitched humming tone:]
'EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE'
[- before sparking brightly in his fingertips and catching fire. He drops it, hardly even flinching, and lets it fizzle out on the ground. It fills the room with a black smoke. The rest of his fingertips are singed with the same raw pink. He’s been at this all night, annoying noise and all.]
...Hm, interesting.
[Kiriko takes a long puff of his cigarette before dropping what remains onto the floor and snuffing it out with the edge of his boot beside six or seven other cigarette butts. He stares at the mess he’s made. The feed ends.]
On his way home last night, Kiriko happened to glance at the name plates of 4-7 as he usually does - only to find a certain person was missing. After checking to see that they have, indeed, been wormholed, he had a bit of a meltdown- that eventually lead to the room being filled with mechanical parts.
The video feed begins here. There are wires, gears, knobs, springs, magnets, oscillators, half-broken monitors, bolts, screws, electrodes, gauges, pieces of various circuit boards, soldering guns, resistors, pieces of scrap metal and rocks (is that a crystal?), and other random parts everywhere. Good luck getting anywhere in the room, because there is literally no piece of floor left uncovered. They are all from an array of gutted archaic appliances that lay abandoned against the wall, stacked about a metre high, 4-6's own personal landfill. There are some machines in the pile that have been cracked open, but still have all of their parts, in cases where Kiriko didn't understand how they worked.
A long, detailed blueprint is rolled out onto the floor, and that, too, is covered in wire and gears. Kiriko sits in the centre of it all, working with a tiny screwdriver, trying to piece two large parts together. A cigarette in his mouth, there are a circle of ashes across the floor where he sits, each part laid before him dusted in the same dark grey powder.
With his other hand, he pushes a button attached to the part. He must not have been concentrating, because in the next second, the piece whirs to life, making a loud, pretty, high-pitched humming tone:]
'EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE'
[- before sparking brightly in his fingertips and catching fire. He drops it, hardly even flinching, and lets it fizzle out on the ground. It fills the room with a black smoke. The rest of his fingertips are singed with the same raw pink. He’s been at this all night, annoying noise and all.]
...Hm, interesting.
[Kiriko takes a long puff of his cigarette before dropping what remains onto the floor and snuffing it out with the edge of his boot beside six or seven other cigarette butts. He stares at the mess he’s made. The feed ends.]