—This is Jayce Talis.
[ that's not going to mean anything, to anyone. this man's voice is rasping, dragging, in between sounded exhausted, heavy and ill. ] I'm a scientist. I researched . . . The Arcane, with my . . . With my partner, Viktor— most of my life.
[ frequent pauses are a must. he almost feels out of breath if he doesn't, and that puffs through the radio, ragged and sluggish. ]All of us— seem to have a symbol. A rune, on our bodies. If you've been to the Shrine, then I'm sure . . . You have something else, now. Maybe a message. Please, if you could show it to me. I'll be . . .
[ another hushed pause, ] Outside the Common Room. There's a truck, with . . . Butterflies,
[ the irony in his voice is dry. ] That's— Where I'll be.
If it helps get us anywhere, I . . .
Need, to crack it, I . . .
[ i promised, he mutters, before swiftly adding, through a strain that's tight in his throat: ] That's all.
(action/flavor)
[ jayce is rebounding hard on his magic sepsis as his first symptom to becoming undead! so he is not visibly well for anyone who wants to come see him, but he is trying deathly hard with the symbols and trying to fight the clock with obsession. the iridescent pick up near one of the camp lights is a mess of papers in the front seats as much as the flatbed behind it, spread out and held in place with pebbles or stones, littered with those very symbols as well as formulas he's trying to link and complete like a map.
it's what keeps him from giving into sleep. ]