09 [Voice + Some more accidental videos]
[Voice, to the infirmary staff]
[They've gotten this twice a day since Wednesday, and probably given the same answer each time, but...:]
Claire. Claire Bennet. Is she awake yet? Did you fix her?
[The following fail!broadcasts happen over the next day and a half, private to random people [i.e. whoever wants to get them, except Locke and Arya].]
[The screen shows a broad view of Jesse's room, gloomy and spartan and incredibly messy despite the modern, expensive furniture. There's music blasting from somewhere, thumping hip-hop that will continue through all the broadcasts. Jesse's playing a video game, some racing game, but he keeps looking up at the door, clearly distracted. His video-car flips over a rail and crashes dramatically. He looks back at the screen, blinking owlishly, uncomprehending--]
[Same view. Jesse's sitting on the end of the bed, nursing a cigarette, staring fixedly at the door. Dimly, over the music, the whistling can be heard from outside. Jesse bites his lip and draws his legs up onto the bed, hugging his knees. The whistling fades, but instead of relief, he just looks even more scared, face crumpling. He stubs out the cigarette, drops his head against his knees, and pulls his hoodie up over his head, knotting both hands in the fabric--]
[Whoever gets this one gets exactly the same picture. It's been a long time, and the music is different, but Jesse hasn't moved an inch, except for a very slight rocking back and forth.]
[The room looks empty for a moment -- Jesse's moved off the bed and flattened himself against the wall by the door. The door is open a crack and he's staring out into the hallway. From this angle, his face isn't visible, but he's tense, breathing hard. After several minutes, even though nothing seems to change, he slams the door shut, cursing, and turns away, rubbing his hands over his face. He lurches away, towards something across the room--]
[Jesse's gotten a chest of drawers away from the wall, and he's pushing it in front of the door. With his sweater off, cast aside on the bed, he looks improbably skinny. His arms have several scratch marks on them. He clenches his teeth grimly and shoves--]
[It's the middle of the day at this point, but he's curled up on the bed. The drawers still block the door. Jesse looks like he could be sleeping, clothes and hair messy, covers askew, but if one pays attention they'll realize his eyes are still open, his face wet. The music continues to pound the same music as last night; the playlist has looped right back around. Eventually, he rolls over, bringing one hand up to scratch the other arm.]
((Anyone who wants to be the recipient of any of these, feel free! Jesse won't be responding to his comm at all, not even to the infirmary, and if anyone tries to come over, he won't answer the door. Needless to say, he will not be making appearances at the lab for the next few days. Happy Halloween weekend, ladies and gents!))
[They've gotten this twice a day since Wednesday, and probably given the same answer each time, but...:]
Claire. Claire Bennet. Is she awake yet? Did you fix her?
[The following fail!broadcasts happen over the next day and a half, private to random people [i.e. whoever wants to get them, except Locke and Arya].]
[The screen shows a broad view of Jesse's room, gloomy and spartan and incredibly messy despite the modern, expensive furniture. There's music blasting from somewhere, thumping hip-hop that will continue through all the broadcasts. Jesse's playing a video game, some racing game, but he keeps looking up at the door, clearly distracted. His video-car flips over a rail and crashes dramatically. He looks back at the screen, blinking owlishly, uncomprehending--]
[Same view. Jesse's sitting on the end of the bed, nursing a cigarette, staring fixedly at the door. Dimly, over the music, the whistling can be heard from outside. Jesse bites his lip and draws his legs up onto the bed, hugging his knees. The whistling fades, but instead of relief, he just looks even more scared, face crumpling. He stubs out the cigarette, drops his head against his knees, and pulls his hoodie up over his head, knotting both hands in the fabric--]
[Whoever gets this one gets exactly the same picture. It's been a long time, and the music is different, but Jesse hasn't moved an inch, except for a very slight rocking back and forth.]
[The room looks empty for a moment -- Jesse's moved off the bed and flattened himself against the wall by the door. The door is open a crack and he's staring out into the hallway. From this angle, his face isn't visible, but he's tense, breathing hard. After several minutes, even though nothing seems to change, he slams the door shut, cursing, and turns away, rubbing his hands over his face. He lurches away, towards something across the room--]
[Jesse's gotten a chest of drawers away from the wall, and he's pushing it in front of the door. With his sweater off, cast aside on the bed, he looks improbably skinny. His arms have several scratch marks on them. He clenches his teeth grimly and shoves--]
[It's the middle of the day at this point, but he's curled up on the bed. The drawers still block the door. Jesse looks like he could be sleeping, clothes and hair messy, covers askew, but if one pays attention they'll realize his eyes are still open, his face wet. The music continues to pound the same music as last night; the playlist has looped right back around. Eventually, he rolls over, bringing one hand up to scratch the other arm.]
((Anyone who wants to be the recipient of any of these, feel free! Jesse won't be responding to his comm at all, not even to the infirmary, and if anyone tries to come over, he won't answer the door. Needless to say, he will not be making appearances at the lab for the next few days. Happy Halloween weekend, ladies and gents!))