Fiddleford Hadron "Old Man" McGucket (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
mcgucket) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
entranceway2017-02-07 05:40 pm
mcgucket) wrote in entranceway2017-02-07 05:40 pm
voice
[When the mansion flooded, Fiddleford had gotten the brilliant idea to try to use whatever time he had to put together a device that could be used in a pinch to keep from drowning or suffocating. The closets might not be working right now, but thank goodness he has a habit of keeping metal and other bits he pulled from the closets beforehand lying around, so he has something to work with. Eight--or well, seven hours actually since he first woke up and found out about the current situation... that's totally plenty of time to construct a device that he can use to keep himself or someone else from dying of asphyxiation, or drowning in an attempt to leave a room, right?
One problem here is that it's not like he had kept a spare stash of oxygen tanks outside of the closet, so with some finagling, he figures what he might have to do is make sure to get this device finished as soon as possible, and then supply it using the air that's left in his room before quickly leaving and swimming his way out to another room. Or, barring that, take what he's got so far and chance his luck with finishing it somewhere else instead.
Unfortunately, just when he had been about to test it... he found himself screwing in a piece again, and for a moment, he's caught by an odd feeling of deja-vu. A moment that ended up throwing him off thinking about it and not leaving him with enough time and oxygen to get out of this situation alive.
The last thing he remembers is the door being pulled open (were we the one who managed to pull the door open? can't remember having done that ourselves), a last attempt to draw any further oxygen in, and...]
[... And then he wakes up, and after a second to process that he is apparently alive, he opens up the communicator for a moment.]
'Sew fish hear sitiation cot us like wet rice in ah rag ant now his majig I bean tinkerizin'--got blessit...
[And then he stops attempting to talk, sighs with notable frustration and then... there's a tapping noise of hamboning something that, if you somehow miraculously know the language of hamboning (or more likely, morse code), you might actually have a vague idea what the tapping is meant to mean... except that it's kind of mostly just swearing in tap-rhythm, so it's actually not that important to understand him exactly aside from being clearly annoyed with the current situation.]
[voice]
Alright, this is getting silly. Is there any good reason why half of the people in this mansion are speaking nonsense? Did I miss something?
[voice]
Know, ant yes.
[In response to your two questions in order, there.]
[voice]
Well, at least you understand what I'm saying. Perhaps you could try typing things out?
[text]
Our yew maple two reed this?
[... He tried.]
[text]
[text]
[Fidds is going to be so happy when he's able to speak and type normally again.]
[text]
[text]
Oar yew OK?
[text]
Other than the strange dialect, how are you faring?
[text]
OK
[... He's anything but "okay" actually, but "OK" is one of the few words that can still be typed correctly. And hey, at least he's not dead
anymore, right?][text]
[text]
["Try" being the key word here, of course, since McGucket and "rest" haven't exactly been on the best of terms lately.]
[text]
I'll see you tomorrow, then?
[text]
Shore. [...] OK
[text]
[And with that, he ends the texting session.]