irregular: (bats aren't bugs?)
[This isn't so much an accidental video as it is a deeply impulsive one, because some people never learn. The feed clicks on to show Ken, still dressed in a coat and scarf with snow melting on his shoulders, standing in an apartment kitchen surrounded by brown paper shopping bags, holding the camera about a foot or so from his face.]

Hey, guys. I have a question.

[Serious face on.]

Is it starve a fever and feed a cold? Or is it the other way round? See, my roommate's sick and I just got all this stuff and I don't normally - I don't get colds so I'm kinda... what do you do for them? Should she be eating or not and is packet soup okay, I'm not that great at cooking or anything so I don't wanna poison her and - and maybe I should call a doctor.

Okay. Is there a doctor out there? Who isn't Muraki? I think I need a doctor. Not for me!
irregular: (going it alone)
[Well, someone isn't looking too healthy.

[Ken looks like he's been fighting, and quite possibly up all night. One of his eyes is swollen shut, there's an obvious bruise on his jaw and a cut on his brow. Honestly, he should just stop trying to walk to take-outs. Nothing good ever comes of it.

[As to what he's doing now, he's trying to prise a purple stone off his forehead with his fingernails using the Dreamberry camera as a mirror, because it shouldn't be there and it needs to go and if he was in the bathroom he'd have to stand. The obvious downside to this - that if the camera's on he's being recorded - doesn't seem to have occurred to him. Maybe if he didn't feel so damn tired--]


Ow!

[He rubs at his brow. All he's done is give himself a rather nasty-looking scratch.]

Dammit.

[Ken sighs. Rubs one eye with the heel of his hand. Clearly this isn't working and he needs a better plan. Getting up, he wanders around for a moment and returns with a pair of craft scissors. He slumps heavily back down before the camera, carefully opening the scissors so the blades are bared. On that note, the feed times out.

[Somebody save this idiot from himself. Please.]
irregular: (how about no?)
[Ken's set the Dreamberry up against a book; he's slumped opposite it, chin resting on one wrist. The picture is slightly crooked, and he reaches out to steady the screen.

[Then he glares at it, as if it personally has done him some grave disservice.]


So, these dream... post things. What right have we got to be seeing this stuff?

[I'm looking at you, Dreamberry. Ken glares a bit more, then sighs.]

This ain't TV, right? It's... someone else's head in here. It's private and this thing's dishing it up like it was a stupid drama or something and it's - you're all, why not watch it if it's there? Like TV. And everyone does it and it starts seeming so normal and... and what the Hell's with that, why's that supposed to be okay now just because it's everywhere and--

Look, I'm not saying I'm better than anyone else, I do it too and I don't know why I ever figured it was just fine to, it's not a show and... and... Damn, I hate this place!

[And off.]