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Ashton messes with the dials on the old, shitty CRT TV that you bought from the catalog. The boobtube hisses and seethes with spite at the mere idea of turning out. Alas, Ashton is the one with the stronger will here, and the TV soon relents.
It crackles to life, showing some random TV show you've never seen in your life. It looks like any ol' sitcom. You know how they are - Dumb dad, smart mom, two kids, the works. You're shocked you're even getting signal down here.
Ashton picks up on your unspoken question. "ah, yeah, the TVs here can only access certain ARC exclusive signals."
"So that's how it-" You're interrupted by the oddest sound. The flower bed is shifting. Its many arms press against the floor, as if it was trying to...move itself.
A disgustingly wet sound, like someone loudly chewing wet dog food, is heard with every movement the anomaly makes. With its many arms, it drags itself across the floor with slow, painful movements.
It shifts itself as close as it can to the TV before rooting itself back to the floor.
It's sickening but that's the first time you've seen it actively move its body. Ashton is already recording down notes on this unusual response from the anomaly.
A raspy voice, far more damaged than Ashton's own raspy voice, croaks out from the flowerbed. "...Silver screen. Outperformed by this." You've heard the anomaly speak before but it sounds different this time. It's <span class="mu-b">exhausted.</span> Too exhausted to even process how tired it is.
"Beautiful, nonetheless. Like...like..." It tries to string its thoughts together but it fails to.
"ms. rolle?" Ashton tries to address the anomaly. It doesn't respond. It's completely transfixed on the TV before it. The two of you stand back.
The two of you scribble down notes while IN LIMBO watches the TV. Its many arms reach out to rub and caress the television with a perverted sentimentality, like a long lost lover. The corpse babbles incoherently to itself as it flips mindlessly through the many ARC approved channels. Most of its arms have completely enveloped the TV at this point, blocking most of the screen from you and Ashton.
This is very worrying to say the least. "Should we do something?" You ask to nobody in particular.
"i don't think interfering right now would be a good idea. it might respond violently and, um, i really don't want you to get hurt."
"Fair enough."
Even with most of the screen blocked, you can still make out snippets of what it's watching. It skips through most of the programming with seemingly no higher thought but when a sitcom or a romcom comes on, it stops and stares. Is it trying to remember something?
The anomaly croaks out some fragmented words. "Like nightmare I. had. Years as a. Radio host."
"You were a radio host?" You ask the anomaly. This time, it answers.
"Had to. Ends meet. Face not meant. Radio." A shudder of disgust runs across the anomaly's arms. "Degenerative. Rock and roll. Sex and drugs. Faceless voices with no..."
