[accidental video] - open to [action] for anyone on the Vanquish

[beholding_archivist]

It's been a week. Or at least- I believe it has been?

[ The feed springs to life with a picture that makes it vastly clear that this isn't an intended transmission. The phone obviously is placed on a flat surface - Likely a table. And its owner can be spotted at the edge of the screen, focused on something else but clearly sounding tired.

Jon gives a heavy sigh and raises a hand to press the tips of his fingers against his forehead. Then he resumes talking, still not appearing to talk to anyone in particular. ]

I don't know how long I've been in that storm. I played back the recordings I made only to find them useless. Mostly static, which is... Unusual? And the most I remember now? Is that headache. That ruthless, skull-splitting headache when I tried--

[ And he cuts himself off right there, dropping his hand and leaning his head back to look at the ceiling. ]

I'm on a space ship. At least that's- That's what I've been told this is. I don't know what I'm even supposed to do here. Unless this is just another dream. A dream that has yet to turn into a nightmare. But I-- I don't remember them to be this... Long? Disconnected from whatever gruesome image they are about to paint?

Needless to say, I didn't sleep. Not that I'm aware of, at least. But what does that even mean anymore...

[ He looks back down, on the table before him - Or much rather at the old tape recorder in his hand. The latter doesn't make much of an appearance visual-wise. ]

I should probably make a proper recording before I run out of tape. This phone I was given has proven remarkably useless for such a task.

[ As he says this, Jon reaches for his phone, still lying on the table. ]

The menu alone is a nightmare to-

[ And then he actually looks at the device, pauses and scowls. ]

Is this what it's going to be now? Christ...

[ That said, he simply turns the phone off without adding anything else. ]