[The video opens on a plastic shopping bag, full to straining with rations and bottles of water, an entire week's worth crammed into one little bag, swaying on his arm as he walks. He sounds...well, scared. He's trying to play it off as angry, but it isn't working.]

Well, I suppose I ought to thank you for not leaving me with nothing...

[And the camera comes back up to his face, half-covered in his pastel yellow blanket-scarf and shadowed by the hoods of his cloak and raincoat. His eyes, at least, are frightened and pained.]

But really, Eve, must you use those machines to control my actions? It's entirely too much like being possessed and you surely know I have been. [A sigh, heavy and wavering.] Please, please, if you're going to deny me this, please tell me you revived Beckett, too.

Beckett... [his voice goes soft and he slows, coming to a stop for a few seconds in the snow. His head hangs and for a moment his face is entirely obscured from view. He leans on a building - the house with hot water - but does not go in.] ...Please don't be gone forever. Please let us meet again. I don't want it to be the same as it was with Clayton, I want to see you again!

I'm sorry, I couldn't save you. I tried, I tried, but I couldn't-... [his voice breaks and he keeps moving. He's heading for the school, but that won't be visible for some time yet. For now, the surroundings become the empty field around it.]

Brian, I'm sorry. Angel, Rhys, you too, forgive me. You love him too and I failed him. [His voice hitches again, but he's exerting himself too much to actually stop and cry.]

Right, I'm-...recording for everyone, I-... I'm sorry, I'm alive. I can't seem to control what I say or write but I'm alive. And I don't know yet that it's worth it that I am.

[That last bit, under his breath, might have been lost on the wind to those not paying close attention. He continues his walk towards the school, only silent in the effort of moving forward. It is occasionally punctuated by complaints about the cold and the way the plastic bag's handles bite into his arm even through his coat's sleeve, when he pauses for even a moment.]

((ooc: Because Enoch lacks any sort of communication filter, he may comment on text posts running concurrently with audio/video posts, including inbox and filtered posts. Let me know if you do NOT want him bringing up any other threads or commenting on yours in others!))