# N.E PERSONAL QUESTION BOX

NEW   ERIDU    INDEPENDENT   BROADCAST

accessibility efforts of   q & a   oc dynamics

there’s a long sigh that comes through first things first, as the microphone calibrates, followed by a very unprofessional amount of prep and vocal testing that indicates that you probably shouldn't be hearing this part, or that Safir messed up again and started the broadcast earlier than usual. Which is embarrassingly common.

“Good morning.” They mumble slowly, clearly just having woken up, and the screen finally imports the correct video input, and Safir appears drinking their coffee and appearing way too disheveled. There's a mumble of sound at the edge of the DIY studio that they struggled to make for two days straight. “What do you means it's evening, time is a social construct anyway— Ugh, whatever, evening then.” Safir groans.

They cough. The guy you have the disgrace of calling a news reporter (is it? They're basically just doing streams on a single channel on a single amount of televisions, which you more or less only watch because they sometimes start reading cooking recipes and you're bored) tries to appear dignified by tapping their blank papers on the desk and they really should invest in at least printing Lorem Ipsum on them to make it less obvious.

“Good evening, new eridu citizens,” Safir says as they glare at whoever else is behind the camera. “Today we have received an interesting amount of reports of individual cases of people opening their own question boxes.”

They narrow their eyes at whatever the other person behind the camera does. “Yes, yes. What is a question box?” they ask rhetorically for the sake of explanation. “Basically, it seems to be a newer trend by our lovely citizens, where they make a public mailbox where other citizens can send them questions regarding their interests, backstory, or other miscellaneous matters.” Safir says.

“Some dude started asking about the invention of the wheel, people are weird, I swear— Holy shit my pinky is bleeding hold a second.” The broadcaster trails off as their papers have been, indeed, coated in blood because of that nasty habit of biting the skin near their nails.

there's a pause, and Safir cleans the blood on their shirt, and they just decide to not hold the papers anymore because it was like five bucks to get a stack of white paper of this size for prop assets.

“.... Either way. Today we are here to compile each instance of a open mailbox of the citizens to ensure every single person gets their time on their spotlight, even if we are unable to feature them individually in our broadcast due to the rising popularity of the trend on civilian circles. Therefore—”

Safir points on the screen and they almost drop their coffee mug. “You! Watching at home! Comment your question mailbox on 022-C0MM3NTS-B3LL0W while following our case template! New Eridu wants to hear your voice and whatever funny things you have to say! Again, that's 022-C0MM3NTS-B3LL0W on the big screen! Are you just a silly guy? Do you do it for the lore or because of the funsies, regardless of the effort? Comment anyway! We do not discriminate against your set-ups or case ability.”

Safir’s chair breaks. Or they fall off it, hard to tell. They begin swearing in another language so bad that the broadcast gets ended so they don't get death threats again. You hate the stupid copyright-free jingle that follows.

022 - C0MM3NTS - B3LL0W          TEMPLATE

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