[ 1 ] video + action option, mouseover translation;

[skennen]

[Oh hey, another video recording by some hapless new(-ish) Transport. The picture focuses quickly on the chin, neck, and upper chest of a man. That the shot lingers there, with only the stranger's breathing and the light patter of nearby rain for audio, is almost certainly evidence that he's not only hapless, he's technologically clueless.

After a few long moments, the silence is broken.]

Eedeh- Veedehoh. [He's determined to sort out this word. He goes on mumble to himself in a not-especially-common language:] Oh nahò:ten kén:ton?

[The tablet is finally held out away from him and there's the rest of the guy, clad in white and blue robes. His outfit is complete with a pointed hood that would easily cover half his face were his head not tilted back. Connor continues to size up the tablet, his eyebrows fixed low over his eyes - a hint of anger, or perhaps it's just suspicion, in an expression otherwise shaped by uncertainty and confusion.

The instructions on how to use this device have only been so much help. Much like the rest of the information given since his arrival, he finds himself forced to try and piece together understanding around too many words he's not once heard in his life. But he does get that this thing is meant for communication, supposedly with the other "Transports". With the other prisoners.

His frown firmly in place, he finally addresses the tablet - in English:]

Hello. Does anyone hear me? [When waiting expectantly doesn't yield a reply, his lip curls. Is he supposed to say more?]

I should not be here. I cannot help with this war. A man of great importance is in danger where I am from. I must get back. Should he be slain in my absence, the consequences will be unthinkable.

[Not the first time he's said this... and probably not the last, either. It's aggravating to have to repeat himself again and again, to be met with so many blank stares, answers of "there's no way out", and now a flexible window pane machine that seem to be ignoring him, but he feels it's necessary to continue repeating this particular message. It may only take one person who understands and knows of some well-guarded secret to help him escape this place. But that thought gives him pause.]

If there is a man named Thomas Hickey here, I would know where I might find him. [Hm.] Or a man who calls himself Charles Lee. I am interested in his whereabouts, as well.

[Is this machine even working? He's probably spent the last few minutes talking to himself. What a waste of time this is proving to be. But what's this button here do-]

[Action Option - City]
[Should anyone be wandering the rooftops, they just might run into the man wearing those distinct white and blue robes... and no small number of weapons. The robes and weapons practically cover him in equal parts.

From a distance, his hooded figure might even look vaguely similar to another white-robed, weapon-collecting, rooftop-frequenting Transport. You'd think they had some kind of club thing going on.

Fair warning, though: Connor's time in Exsilium thus far has been dedicated to searching for a way out, gathering information, and (begrudgingly) getting to know the lay of the city and some of the land around it. As such, he has yet to visit his assigned apartment... and he's yet to see a bar of soap here. At least there's all the rain he's been skulking around in?]

Comments

[biwinning]

My everything.

[skennen]

... I have not heard your everything so I would not be able to say.

[biwinning]

... Fine. Yeth. My english.

[skennen]

[He looks very thoughtful for a moment.]

There is always room for improvement?

[biwinning]

There really ithn't. But whatever. Jutht tell me about your language.

[skennen]

What more were you wanting to know?

[biwinning]

What'th it called to thtart.

[skennen]

[Sigh.]

Kanien'keha.

[... With the k's pronounced as g's.]

[biwinning]

[See, that wasn't so hard!]

G-...Ghanien... Um. Thorry, I'm fucking thith up too.

[skennen]

[Who is surprised? Not this man here.]

It is all right. You tried. Most do not even care to make the attempt.

[biwinning]

Ith it not well known?

[skennen]

It is and it is not. The language is only spoken by my people and my people do no number as many as some. But our brothers, especially our younger brothers to the west, speak languages very similar to our own.

[biwinning]

Variationsth of the language. Becauthe of location?

[skennen]

... You have many questions.

[biwinning]

...

I'll thtop.

[skennen]

[He comes very close to replying with a brusque 'it is appreciated'... and perhaps equally close to apologizing because it's not as though the conversation was that much of a bother. No one's ever shown an interest in his people's language before...

He settles for changing the subject.]

You do not show your face on the machine as many of the others do.

[biwinning]

There are two kindsth of people who find themselvesth here. Thome are already uthed to weird shit, and thome who aren't. Thorry, but I'm kind of athuming you're in the latter category. Maybe I'll show you later, after you've... been here a while.

[skennen]

[What on Earth...]

I do not intend to be here long... but... all right?

[biwinning]

You might not intend to be.

But you will be.

[skennen]

We will see.