♕ FIRST BATTLE | VIDEO

[determinator]

[Good morning, Prospero! Hopefully none of you are checking your messages this early, because if you do, you're in for some lovely shrieking histrionics!]

[The video feed starts out normally, with a rather unremarkable man examining the phone, dropping it, cussing, and scooping it back up. His movements are clumsy and uncoordinated; they're the sort one usually makes after being woken suddenly. That isn't all that far from the truth, actually. He shouldn't have woken up period. You see, Archer's dead.]

...Dammit, what the hell is this...?

[He doesn't seem to be talking about the phone anymore, as his attention has shifted elsewhere. He finally moves to get up off the bed... and promptly trips over himself. He's usually not this clumsy! It will just take him awhile to get used to being human again! After all, he was sporting a four-foot long gun-arm for awhile there! No big deal! It just makes moving a hell of a lot more difficult than he remembered.]

[Archer finally seems to notice the device is on and addresses it.]

Where the hell am I? What am I doing here? ...I suppose it's possible this is some sort of morphine-induced dream; this certainly can't be reality.

[Oh, he's also lacking a little something known as a "brain-to-mouth filter." Have fun with that! For the time being, he'll shut off the phone, having lost all interest in it.]

Comments

[determinator]

[Why does everyone assume this.]

What the hell are you talking about?

[Nope, you've lost him already, good sir.]

[enjoymyatelier]

[because you are pasty as hell]

You've been transported into a parallel world of some sort. No one has worked out the hows or the whys yet, and given they haven't done so after six months I wouldn't expect to know anything of actual significance anytime soon.

[determinator]

[That's not his fault! Someone has to take care of the work in Central! Spoilers: It's not Mustang.]

...Do you genuinely expect me to believe that?

[LINEFACE]

[enjoymyatelier]

[you could do it in a room that actually lets light in]

Honestly, I would be surprised if you did. People like you generally shouldn't know about matters such as these, but circumstances force me to make an exception.

[ugh ugh ugh being forward with this feels so wrong. at least it's a completely different kind of magic.]

[determinator]

[...No. >:|]

What "circumstances"? I fail to see how anything could warrant such an unbelievable explanation.

[Besides y'know, it being the truth and all. Because nope we're not accepting that.]

[enjoymyatelier]

You just woke up in a world that is presumably not your own. What do you think the explanation is?

[determinator]

I wouldn't be asking if I already knew.

[enjoymyatelier]

Then I'd say you had very little choice but to believe me. I have nothing whatsoever to gain from lying to you.

[determinator]

[That... is a very valid point, isn't it.]

...What can you tell me about this place? I suppose I'm stuck here for the time being and I do need to familiarize myself with my surroundings; any help you can offer would be appreciated.

[Slightly sarcastic there because it's Archer. How do we ask for help in a polite way? We don't.]

[enjoymyatelier]

You should be grateful I'm continuing this conversation with that tone of yours.

In any case, this is an island off the east coast of the United States called Prospero, undoubtedly because someone thought they were being clever. If you had any sort of special abilities that common people generally don't have, they're gone now, and around midnight there's a strange phenomenon known as the Dark Hour.