"Hoboy ..." The tall, scruffy man leans heavily against the door labelled "WCDT", while an eerie, sobbing cackle penetrates the gloom far more efficiently than the tiny flame fizzling in a leftover puddle of tallow, and fleeting shadows stalk the handful of human forms huddled around an old-fashioned ham radio. A sickly greenish shine throws hollow faces into sharp relief. Occasional thumping, as if heavy objects were hurled against it from the other side, make the heavy blast-proof door shudder and jump against his heaving shoulders ...
"Hello? I'm from ... from the WCDT! We had to leave the place when the Mods closed down the emergency shelters - Me, and Kim, and Beckett ... and Chen ... OhmyGod Chen! They ... we ran, and they ... "Soot-stained hands tighten around makeshift weapons, sharp-featured faces dancing in the oppressive darkness, skin taut over the bone, the flesh beneath all but melted away by hunger and despair ...
"Can I apply for asylum here? PLEASE???!!? You ... you don't know what's going on out there ... It's ..."His head whips to the left, as an unusually heavy blast shackes the barrier, feverish gaze trying to pierce the darkness. His voice trails off into silence, and sunken, gleaming eyes stare at the spectres of remembered terror ...
"Please?" His voice cracks ...
"Please ...?" He starts to slide down the face of the door ...
Then pulls himself up, squares his shoulders, and, reaching into his tattered backpack, declaims The Cant, the ancient ritual plea for shelter
"A tired wander seeks sanctuary and sustenance - As tribute to the nekkid Elder Forum Gods, I offer this enchanting vid of a cute otter."