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- Jul 12, 2013
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The playback begins. A young man can be seen, sitting in a black office chair. The man is dressed in an unbuttoned off-white dress shirt and black pants. He wears a solemn expression, his fingers steepled in the air in front of him, back completely straight, elbows resting on the chair's arms. The wall behind him is adorned with a painting, which hands just above the man's head.
A few seconds pass. The man's mouth twitches.
"Oh, I just couldn't keep that up at all, could I?" he laughs, breaking the charade and relaxing from his grave characterization. "I need to work on my acting skills. Anyway, onto the actual purpose of this recording. You'll edit this out, won't you?" he asks, glancing behind the camera as though someone is there.
"Of course, sir," a monotone voice replies.
The man nods, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. He suppresses his mirth. "Darren Kray," he begins, sitting up straight. "Personal Log, Autobiography, Chapter One." The man pauses and fidgets in his chair for a few moments, trying to find a comfortable position, and muttering something about bean bags. Finally, he reposes very oddly: right leg thrown over an armrest, left leg propped up on the desk in front of him (very close to the camera), and right arm hanging on the chair's back. All in all, an exceedingly unorthodox position, but one that was apparently comfortable for the dark-haired man.
"I suppose that you could call mine a fairly normal upbringing. Born (as most humans are) to a mother and father, raised on Coruscant (amongst trillions of others), and schooled, like the vast majority of those millions. However, in the more detailed facets of my childhood, you find very... unique... characteristics. I displayed a certain aptitude for technology at a young age, and was therefore inducted into one of the most prestigious technology-oriented schools on Coruscant by my parents, who were avid encouragers of my gift. My interests and classes were primarily oriented in robotics technology, and I graduated at the top of my class, at the age of fourteen. That's a fairly barebones overview, but I'd wager that it's enough for now."
"Your oral autobiography skills are exceptional, sir."
"Thank you, Cellar." He smiles at the droid's sarcasm, and the video cuts.
CREDITS: One hundred bazillion.
A few seconds pass. The man's mouth twitches.
"Oh, I just couldn't keep that up at all, could I?" he laughs, breaking the charade and relaxing from his grave characterization. "I need to work on my acting skills. Anyway, onto the actual purpose of this recording. You'll edit this out, won't you?" he asks, glancing behind the camera as though someone is there.
"Of course, sir," a monotone voice replies.
The man nods, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. He suppresses his mirth. "Darren Kray," he begins, sitting up straight. "Personal Log, Autobiography, Chapter One." The man pauses and fidgets in his chair for a few moments, trying to find a comfortable position, and muttering something about bean bags. Finally, he reposes very oddly: right leg thrown over an armrest, left leg propped up on the desk in front of him (very close to the camera), and right arm hanging on the chair's back. All in all, an exceedingly unorthodox position, but one that was apparently comfortable for the dark-haired man.
"I suppose that you could call mine a fairly normal upbringing. Born (as most humans are) to a mother and father, raised on Coruscant (amongst trillions of others), and schooled, like the vast majority of those millions. However, in the more detailed facets of my childhood, you find very... unique... characteristics. I displayed a certain aptitude for technology at a young age, and was therefore inducted into one of the most prestigious technology-oriented schools on Coruscant by my parents, who were avid encouragers of my gift. My interests and classes were primarily oriented in robotics technology, and I graduated at the top of my class, at the age of fourteen. That's a fairly barebones overview, but I'd wager that it's enough for now."
"Your oral autobiography skills are exceptional, sir."
"Thank you, Cellar." He smiles at the droid's sarcasm, and the video cuts.
CREDITS: One hundred bazillion.
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