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02 ☣ VIDEO
[Have another odd-hour network post brought to you by rampant insomnia. This one's in the science labs, and thankfully there doesn't appear to be anyone else around to witness what Zeke's been doing with the equipment. He only signed up a week ago, and if nanites can be revoked, he's very possibly on his way to losing them. Not that the prospect seems to be bothering him, looking just as unaffected and confident as usual - even if there might be more of a slouch and sluggishness to him than can be written off as 'bad boy teenager'.]
Looks like the good doctors aren't gonna come back on the air to admit it, but you should all know by now sedatives aren't cutting whatever bullshit's messing with our heads. And I don't know about the rest of you people, but I'm getting sick of feeling like some Dawn of the Dead extra.
[Which will be a really good excuse for why he strayed into the land of bad decisions, when he looks back on this. In the moment, though, he just holds up two little clear plastic pots with a small amount of white powder in them.]
Skat. My own personal recipe, adapted from limited resources, so let's call it version one-point-five. [His hand tips, almost like he's offering the tubes to whoever might be on the other side of the comms.] Guaranteed to crank you up to eleven, burn the fog off, let you do some thinking again. Selling for the low low price of whatever the hell you've got, man.
[He really doesn't sound like he actually cares, because it's not like there's much to do business with here. But he does pause, glance to the side.]
While stocks last.
Looks like the good doctors aren't gonna come back on the air to admit it, but you should all know by now sedatives aren't cutting whatever bullshit's messing with our heads. And I don't know about the rest of you people, but I'm getting sick of feeling like some Dawn of the Dead extra.
[Which will be a really good excuse for why he strayed into the land of bad decisions, when he looks back on this. In the moment, though, he just holds up two little clear plastic pots with a small amount of white powder in them.]
Skat. My own personal recipe, adapted from limited resources, so let's call it version one-point-five. [His hand tips, almost like he's offering the tubes to whoever might be on the other side of the comms.] Guaranteed to crank you up to eleven, burn the fog off, let you do some thinking again. Selling for the low low price of whatever the hell you've got, man.
[He really doesn't sound like he actually cares, because it's not like there's much to do business with here. But he does pause, glance to the side.]
While stocks last.