entranceway | video; event day four

[The device falls from a slack hand, found in a pocket and puzzled over for only a moment before it's dropped. A smear of dirty water smudges one corner of the camera, and someone stumbles halfway into view on the screen.

That someone is soaked through, wearing a white shirt and a dirty, red tie that stands out almost ghoulishly against the pallor of his skin - just a little too grey to be natural. Maybe it's just the cold. He's shivering and gripping his upper arms, viewing the bloody carnage that surrounds him with the wide-eyed bewilderment of a child.

But no matter how you spin it, there is something visibly off about this man. His colour is one thing, but the bluish veins that stand out against his skin and the pewter-grey shade of his eyes paint a very peculiar picture.

He looks more like the bodies surrounding him than anyone who might be watching.

The backdrop paints a clear picture of just where he is, and takes a few shuffling steps forwards, displaying something that looks like uncertainty. His expression works - confusion, worry - then he moves out of shot.]

[[ooc: inviting anyone to come across him in person, or shout at him from the phone! he'll come back and pick it up. all I ask is pls don't shoot him in the head.]]

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[Bill flicks through the different communication channels with rapid-precision, noting which users are still alive and active and which poor saps either dropped their cameras or met an untimely end.]

"DEAD, DEAD, ACTIVE, uh. HMM..."

[And then he comes across this channel. It looks like an of the other 'dead' streams except this one particular individual keeps coming into view. Almost like it.. belongs to him? NAH. Bill's temporarily human face scrunches with annoyance as R blocks a sign that will better help him identify the location.]

"HEY SHUFFLES, MOVE it or LOSE IT you're WRECKING the SHOT."

[The name attached to the channel is 'R'. It looks like there might be something after the letter R, but there definitely isn't.

R is in the middle of trying to figure out where he is. The sign is useless - he can't read it, no matter how hard he tries - and nothing about him looks like anything he's seen before. The last thing he remembers is curling up under a bush trying to get out of the rain, and the idea that he might have walked somewhere with no recollection of it is.. troubling.

The voice comes from the device he abandoned. He looks to it, frowning very slightly, and his approach is - while hesitant - certainly direct. He crouches, carefully, and picks it up again.]

Ex.. excuse me?

"I SAID--"

[Bill halts halfway with a blink. Did.. Did he just hear it speaK??? Up close this guy looks even more cold and clammy, there shouldn't be any vocal chords left in that thing. It wouldn't be unheard of for a half-rotted human to still have some cognitive centers, and really this is Wonderland, it's not as though things had to follow any rationality. Still, it's enough to throw the triangle momentarily offtrack, his mouth remains agape until his voice, much softer and hesitant, tries to regain some of its forced bravado.]

"..SAID, UH... W-whyyyyyy don't you GET IN THE SHOT a little BETTER?... And say that AGAIN?"

[He might be slightly insulted if he knew what was going through Bill's mind. R has always considered himself rather well-preserved, for a Dead person, but...

He has to admit, he is undeniably dead.

The phone is... familiar, in the kind of way that something you haven't seen in long enough to grow unaccustomed to is familiar. He holds it up, moving it away enough to get his head and shoulders in frame (if slightly crooked) and blinks once.]

Were you.. talking to me?

[Familiar or not, Bill has carefully cultivated a reputation as one who can't be ignored; if R didn't recognize the device, chances are Bill would find someway to draw his attention to it through sheer annoyance alone. Bill blinks back.]

"HUH. WELL WHADDIYA know. SEEMS SENTIENCE hides in some PRETTY odd PLACES NOWADAYS."

[Huh. How very wonderfully, delightfully odd. Bill tilts his head, perplexed. There are actual ghost and skeleton monsters here, an empty skull didn't always translate to an empty headspace this shouldn't be such a milestone and yet... Can he even read this guy's mind? Well, in his current flesh suit he can't. Would it even be a good idea to try later? There must be something holding this bag of bones together!]

"Yeah I'm TALKIN' to you. HOW ya FEELIN' there SHAMBLES? Ya got a name?"

[Oh, he's got a joker. The zombie's expression shifts into something that might just be a thinning of the lips in something that looks like annoyance.]

... It's R.

[Just R. All he could remember. What M called him. The moniker Julie had dubbed him with when he had stumbled through the first syllable of all he remembered of his former name. Few people knew him by any name at all, but those that did just called him R.

Not only does this zombie have enough sentience to speak, he has enough self-awareness to give a name.]

[So he does. Bill continues to hum in amusement. Few people can claim they've actually annoyed a once-rotting corpse, he'll take that accomplishment to heart.]

"WELL R, PLEASURES all MINE. NAME's BILL, BILL CIPHER. And-- IF YOU'VE still GOT the CAPABILITY to WONDER- this is WONDERLAND."

[He relaxes, practically preening on the screen now that he feels he has solved some special sort of puzzle.]

"GOTTA SAY, takes a LOT to SURPRISE me, but you JUST might have DONE IT! Give YOURSELF a HAND!"

Uh.

[He won't, if it's all the same, and the volume of Bill's voice coming out of the small device has him casting a wary glance around himself. Living people aren't far away, and to date he doesn't have the best of experiences with Living humans.

For good reason, really. It's natural to want to kill something that would want to eat you.]

... How did I.. get here?

[Fair enough; he just might have made a joke about the boy taking someone else's hand next, if R had. It's okay buddy, most people with working nervous systems have no idea how to answer have of Bill's rantings either.]

"THAT's the MILLION DOLLAR QUESTION, ain't it?"

[And one, it seems, the speaker on this end has no intention to oblige.]

"You WON'T FIND anyone who can ANSWER it EASILY-- but FORGET about THAT! What MATTERS is that you ARE HERE. SO, R. Now that you've TAKEN an UNWILLING NIGHT on the TOWN. What do you INTEND to DO WITH IT?"

video; event day four

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