[The feed cuts on to a little screaming flailing tangle of blanket falls off the bed. After some frantic flailing a little green head pops out. He looks around the room on fearful awe. He blinks a few times and looks down at his hands, moving his fingers and turning them. They're filthy, as is the rest of him, but they work. He stands up, emerging
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I-I-I'm s-sorry I-I didn't m-mean t-to bite your house!
[Because you are clearly a very tiny human and the strange box is your house]
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[Communication? So that would mean...]
Are you stuck inside it then?
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It is a picture.
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[Dende plops down and gets closer to the device... and closer... and closer.... and enjoy looking at his nose]
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[back away now...]
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Um... is this the realm of the dead? I-it's not w-what I thought it would be....
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I-I guess you're right...
[a look of concern and worry washes over his face]
B-but the last thing I remember is....
[the little alien lets out a whimper]
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[if his memory is of dying in and of itself, she sympathizes. it isn't the most pleasant memory to have.]
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[He looks around again]
B-b-but d-do you know where here is?
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They call it Anatole.
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The door?... but I never went through any doors... unless somebody carried me through one.
[Oh! That must be how he's alive! A big smile spreads across his face as he thinks he understands the situation]
Is that how I'm alive? Someone saved me?!
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