fumitory: (23)
ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴍᴏɴᴏʟᴏɢɪsᴛ ([personal profile] fumitory) wrote in [community profile] wasteyard 2019-06-04 02:11 am (UTC)

( subtle, broken sounds persist. crackling to varying degrees echo mutedly from under the debris, leaving Ben's hands feeling raw — dry rubble, fractured wood, stained paper. the voice continues, softer, on words Ben can barely make out... )

Hah! ( a bark of surprise rings out over the sudden silence as Ben's hands cease their senseless harassment on this pile of detritus. he spots a walkie-talkie, which he grasps for like water in a desert. he scrambles over the impossible device, looking from the front-faced speaker that buzzes with sound, to the non-descript buttons and dials here and there. for all he knows, in a place like this, the wrong button could make this damn thing turn to jelly.

his luck permitting.

Ben has never used these sorts of things before, but it's now or never. can't exactly ask Siri how to use a walkie-talkie right now.

he click a button on the side, and it clicks sharply. the open sound cuts abruptly, impossible to tell if that's a good or bad thing. hesitantly, Ben leans into the device to finally reply—
) Hello? Yes, hello, are you still there?

( it does take Ben a few seconds to realize he ought to let the button go, if he wants to receive any response. that is how these things work, right? should he have finished with 'over'? these are not the nuanced dilemmas that Ben has the patience for right now. )

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