[This comes from the Second Level hallway, because Desmond just happened to be passing through and found Shinzon's PAPERWEIGHT-BEATEN CORPSE there. He's reasonably calm, all things considered, although a bit breathless and trying to remember what little medical training he has.]

There's a body here in the second level corridor. I'm not... Entirely ( Read more... )

Hopefully, second time's the charm, yeah?

Fe- Snoop, I suppose I should call you. Snoop Pearson, then. My name's Desmond Hume and I'm your new Warden. Obviously, we have some things to discuss. I'm hoping this arrangement works out well for the both of us.

"A wonderful fact to reflect upon, that every human creature is constituted to be that profound secret and mystery to every other. A solemn consideration, when I enter a great city by night, that every one of those darkly clustered houses encloses its own secret; that every room in every one of them encloses its own secret; that every beating heart ( Read more... )

[Desmond's fiddling with his photograph of Penny when the video clicks on.]

Right then. I suppose I owe a few people apologizes. I think I might've stirred up more paranoia than I intended to, yeah? As much as it hurt to not remember her... I think the false hope that she could've been here was even worse.

[He clears his throat and looks up.]

Nicholas ( Read more... )

[Desmond's busted out the CRAZY EYES, because SHIT SON, THIS IS BAD. He's very nervous looking.]

Ah. Well. Like the rest of you, I don't know who I am or how I got here, but, ah... I think there's a more pressing matter.

[He holds up his Warden item, which just so happens to be his photograph of him and Penny. It looks like this.]

This woman? Has ( Read more... )

[Desmond has shaved, because DAMMIT. HE DOESN'T HAVE TO HAVE A HOBO BEARD ANYMORE. EMBRACE FREEDOM. He does seem to be kind of weirded out by the whole... Clean-shaven thing though, as evidenced by how, occasionally, he keeps reaching up to scratch his face. Also, pretend like 90% of his icons don't have the beard in them. HE WOULD SHAVE. THAT'S ( Read more... )

[The recorder clicks on and there's a tinny sound of an old-fashioned record playing Mama Cass's "Make Your Own Kind of Music" in the background. After a moment, a man with a thick Scottish accent speaks.]

Right. Guess this is it, then. I can't say I'm entirely pleased by the decor of my cabin. Thought I'd gotten away from this, but... After three ( Read more... )

( If there is a hell, I'm sure this is how it smells.... )