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His Butler, Alone
Jan. 15th, 2010 04:31 am[Monday: 3:26 a.m, the video dated log kicks on to a recording that was shot a few days before hand, his lone figure standing in the snow, staring endlessly at the sky, as if he knew. The feed cuts out.
The water from the damaged snow has dried and actives the feed days later.
Friday, 4:00 a.m., hands move over an area -- obviously a view from his breastpocket-- cleaning the polished desk his master enjoys. Though the seat is empty, and it flickers, now at the window, washing and streak shining it brightly to allow all the light in. The feed times out.
7:15 a.m, hands slide over sheets upon the bed, even though no one has slept in them for days, he's already changing them.
11:29 a.m, only sound this time, the rest blanketed by the darkness of his pocket, though the steady stream of violin music is heard.]
You'll fall behind at this rate.
[
2:48 pm, only footsteps, then a clicking noise as his fabled pocketwatch snaps shut
5:32 pm, the PCD rests on the desk, giving a clear view of the dinning room. The house provides no warmth or electricity, clear by the empty fireplace and the lack of a single light. The food upon the table has gone cold, though the butler remains with candelabra in hand, eyes closed, standing every vigilant by his master's chair
10:27 p.m, he's outside again, having been there for nearly an hour and thirty minutes. The snow falls around him, blanketing his shoulders in the blizzard. He's barely seen from the angle and the rough snow, coat tails flicking against his legs from the strong gusts. Every now and then he'll move to brush it off his form]
The water from the damaged snow has dried and actives the feed days later.
Friday, 4:00 a.m., hands move over an area -- obviously a view from his breastpocket-- cleaning the polished desk his master enjoys. Though the seat is empty, and it flickers, now at the window, washing and streak shining it brightly to allow all the light in. The feed times out.
7:15 a.m, hands slide over sheets upon the bed, even though no one has slept in them for days, he's already changing them.
11:29 a.m, only sound this time, the rest blanketed by the darkness of his pocket, though the steady stream of violin music is heard.]
You'll fall behind at this rate.
[
2:48 pm, only footsteps, then a clicking noise as his fabled pocketwatch snaps shut
5:32 pm, the PCD rests on the desk, giving a clear view of the dinning room. The house provides no warmth or electricity, clear by the empty fireplace and the lack of a single light. The food upon the table has gone cold, though the butler remains with candelabra in hand, eyes closed, standing every vigilant by his master's chair
10:27 p.m, he's outside again, having been there for nearly an hour and thirty minutes. The snow falls around him, blanketing his shoulders in the blizzard. He's barely seen from the angle and the rough snow, coat tails flicking against his legs from the strong gusts. Every now and then he'll move to brush it off his form]
