The Velvet Key

Okay, first of all, I think some of you neglected to mention that we can't fucking die. What am I supposed to think when I turn on my phone and somebody's going "oh yeah, I got murdered but I'm all better now"?

Don't get me wrong, I'm not about to go out and get my ass killed just to see what it's like, but that's kind of an important detail to leave out. Jesus.

[ There's a bit of an awkward pause here. He sort of doesn't have a segue for this. ]

Aaaaanyway... somebody wanna help me set up a keyboard? Some fucking Shadow dropped it, and I'm not going to ask what it was doing with my keyboard, but I'll take it. I'm in room 414 in the hotel.

[ Look! A video! A video of... a piano? All that's on the screen is the row of black and white keys, at a slightly odd angle. If someone is sitting at said piano, they can't be seen due to the proximity and the angle.

Somewhere in the background an MP3 is playing. One has to really wonder if this was an accident, until a pair of long-fingered hands come int view, and begin to play, the piano easily drowning out the background music.

After the song is done, one of the hands reaches for the camera, the whole scene shifting wildly for a moment before coming to rest (mostly) on Lindsey's face. His cheeks are red, and he's obviously embarrassed. ]

So. Uh. Usagi, that was my was of asking if you maybe wanted to go out.

... With me. Go out with me.

[ You can see why he let the piano do the talking- the feed abruptly ends there. Yes, it was likely this was supposed to be filtered, but he doesn't know how to do that. Enjoy your free show, Prospero. ]

[ The video clicks on thanks to some scrambling fingers, which temporarily mar the view as they close around the phone. There's a moment or two of silence, the video largely blurred thanks to those still-exploring fingers, until it shifts as the person brings it to their ear, where it's obscured further by a curtain of blond hair. ]

Hello? Operator? Police?

Anybody?

Fuck. Please tell me this thing works-- HELLO? I think I've been kidnapped or something. This sure as hell isn't my house, and I'm pretty sure I don't sleepwalk.

[ A beat, as he waits for an answer, and possibly to think about how ridiculous he sounds. ]

Throw me a fucking bone here. What am I supposed to say? "Siri, call the fucking cops?"