001 // voice;

[decryptify]

[ The recording starts playing and there's dead silence, for a moment or two, some fidgeting in the background. A pause, sound that seems like someone thoughtfully tapping against the phone, once, twice, a voice; ]

Well, let's see here -- [ A flicker of static, back into silence. And a few moments later there's just noise, static and dead air, though it does sound like there might be a voice somewhere underneath it -- it's too distorted, far too lost in the noise to really make out. Unless, of course, one is familiar with one of the old encryption protocols that this very guy may have taught you, once upon a time.

ENCRYPTED;

[ A seperate recording, encoded within the noise; ]

-- Mayday, mayday. This is Agent York of Project Freelancer, designation Foxtrot-12. Mayday, requesting assistance. Location unknown, missing key equipment, and not all that happy about it, to be be honest. Mayday, mayday, anyone out there? [ A pause, stretching for a few seconds, and a brief sigh. ] Bit of a longshot, huh, D.

[ Another few moments of silence, and something that might be a soft chuckle. ]

Good to know you still remember what I taught you, rookie.

For everyone else, that lasts for a good ten seconds or so before the static flickers into some laughter. ] -- Uh oh. Testing, testing. We clear?

Sorry about that earful of static, folks. [ A sharp, sheepish laugh. ] This tech isn't what I'm used to. Hadriel, that's what I call you, right? Don't think we've been properly introduced?

The name's York. My likes include walks on the beach, an adequate supply of ammunition, and not bein' kidnapped against my will. I think I'm pretty good on walks on the beach, for now. Anyone out there got anything for me on the rest?

Comments

[pellameno]

It feels like it, but there are others who have been here far longer.

[ Probably awhile, friend. They've tried mapping the tunnels but it seems like they move and change, which makes it pretty pointless. ]

You could always ask. I fear what they'd want in return for something pleasant. Sure, they keep us fed and clothed and housed but they feed off emotions and two of them are so negative I don't know how the others survive. It's difficult to hope here, let alone find delight.

But you seem different. Brighter somehow.

[ Maybe that's because the other has only just arrived, but Pell likes his attitude. It reminds him of someone important. ]