[ The feed opens to show two men in the Archives. Martin is tall, and stout, with a friendly if not slightly nervous expression as though he might be a little camera shy. Beside him, Jon Sims looks like an underfed wraith of a man: he's gaunt and exhausted, but at least he holds himself at ease for the first time in months. Those who spend time in the Archives have likely seen him in passing, and it's a shock to see him smiling.
He clears his throat and leans forward to address the camera. The feed speckles into static with the movement, distorting briefly around his eyes. ]
Hello. My name is Jonathan Sims, and I am joined by Martin Blackwood.
Hello! [ Martin lifts a hand to give a small wave to the camera. ]
We were both residents of Deerington, though our memories of the experience are... incomplete.
So we're asking people to come forward with their memories - either Deerington, or Trench, or even at home. Anything weird or supernatural that might help us get a better understanding of what’s happening here - or what might happen, I guess. And how to deal with it? There's a lot to be learned from our own experiences. And - and sometimes it just helps to talk about it?
[ This all sounds well and good, but Jon looks uneasy, frowning down at the sheaf of papers in his hands. He clears his throat and continues, more steadily: ]
Additionally, I have a warning to issue. There have been instances of... unusual books and artifacts being found throughout Trench.
They will probably have a weird effect on you, or the people around you, if you read them, or mess with them or anything. You might even know as soon as you see one that there’s something kind of... off about them?
If you encounter anything which strikes you as [ there's a twist of exasperation at this gross oversimplification: ] cursed, please alert myself or Martin immediately.
We've seen these kinds of things at home before, so we have loads of experience dealing with them. We can help. Just let us know and we'll be right there.
[ Jon looks directly at the camera again, and for a moment visual distortion swallows the feed: there is a shivering bloom of static and an uncanny intensity to his eyes, as though he is truly seeing you, the viewer, from the other side of town. You can make out Martin's nervous smile, and then it clicks off. ]
(( Permissions and info if you'd like to provide a spooky memory! Statements given via the network will not invoke the consequences described. It's safe... for now. ))
He clears his throat and leans forward to address the camera. The feed speckles into static with the movement, distorting briefly around his eyes. ]
Hello. My name is Jonathan Sims, and I am joined by Martin Blackwood.
Hello! [ Martin lifts a hand to give a small wave to the camera. ]
We were both residents of Deerington, though our memories of the experience are... incomplete.
So we're asking people to come forward with their memories - either Deerington, or Trench, or even at home. Anything weird or supernatural that might help us get a better understanding of what’s happening here - or what might happen, I guess. And how to deal with it? There's a lot to be learned from our own experiences. And - and sometimes it just helps to talk about it?
[ This all sounds well and good, but Jon looks uneasy, frowning down at the sheaf of papers in his hands. He clears his throat and continues, more steadily: ]
Additionally, I have a warning to issue. There have been instances of... unusual books and artifacts being found throughout Trench.
They will probably have a weird effect on you, or the people around you, if you read them, or mess with them or anything. You might even know as soon as you see one that there’s something kind of... off about them?
If you encounter anything which strikes you as [ there's a twist of exasperation at this gross oversimplification: ] cursed, please alert myself or Martin immediately.
We've seen these kinds of things at home before, so we have loads of experience dealing with them. We can help. Just let us know and we'll be right there.
[ Jon looks directly at the camera again, and for a moment visual distortion swallows the feed: there is a shivering bloom of static and an uncanny intensity to his eyes, as though he is truly seeing you, the viewer, from the other side of town. You can make out Martin's nervous smile, and then it clicks off. ]
(( Permissions and info if you'd like to provide a spooky memory! Statements given via the network will not invoke the consequences described. It's safe... for now. ))