"Is this – is this on?"
A young blond woman looked eagerly about toward a young man with dark hair.
She smiles brightly if a little formally and ducks her head toward a camera. She fidgets a little. Her hand rests near what is probably a weapon beneath her shirt.
"I didn't know it'd be treated so formally. Monty, are you sure this is necessary?"
"Just go with it," says the young man. He can't be seen, but his voice is nearby.
"Alright," she pats her worn pants with both hands. "Erm. I'm Clark Griffin. That is my friend Monty Green, and ergh." She pauses. Her look of forced gladness hangs for a moment. "I uh. I don't know what much to say. I'm one of the hundred. I guess."
"You guess?" says Monty. "You are one of the hundred. Just relax. What you say isn't all that important. It's just proof of life."
"I'm alive," she says, and a wide smile spreads over her face. "For now, anyways." The young woman's eyes turn downward to her side and she mumbles. Her smile falters just a bit. Clark Griffin clears her throat.
"I'll step out of the room," says the young man's voice. "You just say that's on your mind. I won't even review it if you don't want me to."
"Why are we doing this?" she complains.
"Your mom said it'd be good to talk to an unseeable entity. It's good therapy, and you can look back over it if you want to."
"Right." She makes a face and raises her eyebrows. "My mother." She chews her lip and her eyes seem to follow the young man from the room. There is the sound of an echoing, metal door.
She mumbles. Then chews her bottom lip and pats her knees alternately. "Alright then. I guess It's just you and me then. She looks toward the dark abyss and bright blue eyes come into focus. "I suppose you can't bite me if you're some unknown person from the future. I'll try to be right. You are, hypothetically." She makes clicking sounds. "I know, you're an alien subspecies. No. That would never happen. Well, if life really is going to be wiped of the Earth in the next few months, I suppose there's no harm in calling you that. Who knows?"
The young woman's bright hair swings in view, and the locks appear very close. She rustles and fidgets. "Lets say you're my Dad. God, I wish you were. But" she pauses again. Not continuing. There's only the sound of air and distant clinking.
"I miss you." The voice wavers. "I'm sorry. I know that –if you were here, we wouldn't be in this mess we are in now. This world needs you. It needs the ingenuity of the man who kept the Arc in the air for so many ears passed what it should have. It was a mistake. Heaven knows I've made so many mistakes, but there's also been times I know I've only survived because of you. What you were makes me what I am, and right now I am alive."