deus_ex_vir

[The video opens with a lovely shot of Espen's shoulders. Noticing this, he tilts the journal up to show his face. The backdrop behind him is the door of his room, which he leans against. He looks and sounds calm enough, though one might notice a jittery undertone to his speech.]

Hello, kidnappers! Espen here with today's weather. It's going to be cloudy with a chance of where the fuck am I. Temperatures will be in the upper this room is shitty and the lower what is this journal thing. [The video rattles as he slides down on his back. There's the floor.] We've got a continental arctic air mass sweeping down from I need to go home, but it might get swept away in the jet stream. That's all for today. Stay classy, medieval castle. Staaay classy.

[The video ends, but turns back on again quickly, sort of like an afterthought.]

But really, extended and snarky metaphors aside: answers would be great right now, please and thank you. [Espen stands up and spins around in idle circles. Warning: motion blur.] I'm sorry for whatever I did. Well, not really, probably. It's the thought that counts, right? Yeah. [Salute.] Espen, over and out.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

To the best of my understanding, we don't ever get explanations. Not even when we ask nicely, and especially not when we demand.

And I doubt you did anything to get here. Most of us haven't.

I don't know what I expected. In my experience, the bad guy usually doesn't reveal his villainous plan. Talk about a letdown. I don't like being the damsel in distress. Very unbecoming.

[Anyway.]

You got anything to tell me?

Not unless you get him monologing, anyway, and while this guy does like the sound of his own voice, he hasn't been tricked into monologing about his plans yet.

As for what I can tell you...keep out of trouble or you'll be punished, and by that I mean stocks and whips. Most of the people are here are pretty nice, and so is the staff, even if they do work for Lord D-bag.

People'll sometimes disappear. We're not sure where they go, and near as I can tell there's not a pattern behind it...but I haven't been here very long and I don't know everyone, so I'm not saying definitely that there's not.

Sometimes weird things happen around here. Like...really weird. Sometimes dangerous. Just...hold on to your head. I mean that literally.

Well this is all kinds of exciting. I'm living a fairytale - you know, big medieval castle, people disappearing mysteriously, weird shit nobody can explain. This damsel has become the protagonist.

[Enough with the extended metaphors.]

I thank you for your time, my fair lady.

If this is a fairy tale it's definitely not one of those Disney watered-down stories. It's a full-on original translation Grimm brothers. Like those folk tales they used to trade around the fire.

[She's not sure which of them qualifies as the damsel here. She hopes he means him and not her. It's weird enough being called a fair lady.]

And you're welcome?

[Don't worry, he's the damsel.]

I prefer my fairytales gruesome. Bring on the blood and guts and what-big-teeth-you-have. Life without danger is just boring, you know?

[Says the man that still hasn't left his room.]

Soooooo. How long have you been trapped in this story?

Personally I could stand for a little more boring, but I guess I can't really complain since I've yet to die or lose my head or disappear off the face of the grounds.

[Yep, she really did just classify losing one's head outside of dying. Process that one, ye damsel. That's the kind of new and exciting life in store!]

I've been here for about 5 months or so now.

I

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