it feels like we're ready to crack, these days, you and I
The weird stuff Isla has managed to capture on her cameras, as it happens, is the sort of shit that most people would call television gold. It's the sort of shit that has the most diehard fans locking in for years to come, and critics calling bullshit for the same amount of time. What's more (and better) is that the cops that had gone to check out the house had found absolutely nothing by way of wires, electrical equipment or other rudimentary traps, and they deliver the verdict that the house is... well, just that. A house.
And so the attempts to contact Remi begin. And continue. And continue.
Now they've only got one night left of the permit and fuck, Ronin knows he shouldn't pry into someone's employment file, but the guy has just fallen off the face of the earth and he's gonna be the one to make the show if he comes back. Sure, he knows they could spin some tale about how their sensitive medium couldn't bare to return to the haunted house, but fuck, it still won't be as good as Remi being there.
So Ronin rumbles up and parks his motorbike outside the apartment complex where Remi's file had said he lived, tucking his helmet under his arm and jogging up the street to it. It's already 3pm, and if they want to be able to make this happen, he's got to get hold of the medium now.
Without even really seeing the building or the decor or even the state of the neighbourhood, Ronin is already reaching out to press the buzzer for Remi's apartment in the hope that he'll answer that, if nothing else.
And so the attempts to contact Remi begin. And continue. And continue.
Now they've only got one night left of the permit and fuck, Ronin knows he shouldn't pry into someone's employment file, but the guy has just fallen off the face of the earth and he's gonna be the one to make the show if he comes back. Sure, he knows they could spin some tale about how their sensitive medium couldn't bare to return to the haunted house, but fuck, it still won't be as good as Remi being there.
So Ronin rumbles up and parks his motorbike outside the apartment complex where Remi's file had said he lived, tucking his helmet under his arm and jogging up the street to it. It's already 3pm, and if they want to be able to make this happen, he's got to get hold of the medium now.
Without even really seeing the building or the decor or even the state of the neighbourhood, Ronin is already reaching out to press the buzzer for Remi's apartment in the hope that he'll answer that, if nothing else.
when it's just the two of us, only the two of us, I could die
