HOME | DD

Description
The elderly man shuffled slightly in his seat, clearing his throat briskly in the weather report break.
It had been a slow news morning, the leading story being on the possible effects of climate change - important, but by no means intriguing.
"Next story up, 6 month mark" a young mans voice stammered awkwardly through the small plastic earpiece that linked back to the shows production room.

"It has now been six months since the last recorded infection of the B1MB0 virus."
The younger woman next to him nodded sagely "With thousands of cases across the country, the virus has effected the daily lives of people not only in England, but with cases in Scottland, Wales, and even stretching in to..."

The young woman paused momentarily, squinting. "Inter-nation. Al. Terri Tories?"

"Is she alright?" production spoke again, firmer now.

"International Territories" The man finished his co-anchors sentence.
Glancing at her sidewardly, the events unfolding becoming apparent.

Her hair was notably lighter, longer flicks and waves of honey blonde starting to lengthen and pool around her shoulders. The black zip that held her blouse closed was starting to edge downward, the zipper teeth releasing as the force behind it increased.

"International Territories" she repeated dizzily "Um. With the number of infected. Ew, infected? That's nasty. Sorry, I... I"
She was becoming disoriented, a glazed expression starting to wash over here as the force of the infection began to take hold.

Her hair was now flowing, down past her shoulders, trickling to a point that would have once covered her relatively average breasts that now burst forth, bulging, straining against the fabric that blushed pink and strained to hold them in place.

"The number. This is like, really depressing - can we do some other story? Like, are there any nice stories?"

"Cut to pre-recorded footage, send in two people to get her off set" the earpiece blared.

"So much for 6 months without incident" the presenter groaned wearily, straightening his tie.

Description
The elderly man shuffled slightly in his seat, clearing his throat briskly in the weather report break.
It had been a slow news morning, the leading story being on the possible effects of climate change - important, but by no means intriguing.
"Next story up, 6 month mark" a young mans voice stammered awkwardly through the small plastic earpiece that linked back to the shows production room.

"It has now been six months since the last recorded infection of the B1MB0 virus."
The younger woman next to him nodded sagely "With thousands of cases across the country, the virus has effected the daily lives of people not only in England, but with cases in Scottland, Wales, and even stretching in to..."

The young woman paused momentarily, squinting. "Inter-nation. Al. Terri Tories?"

"Is she alright?" production spoke again, firmer now.

"International Territories" The man finished his co-anchors sentence.
Glancing at her sidewardly, the events unfolding becoming apparent.

Her hair was notably lighter, longer flicks and waves of honey blonde starting to lengthen and pool around her shoulders. The black zip that held her blouse closed was starting to edge downward, the zipper teeth releasing as the force behind it increased.

"International Territories" she repeated dizzily "Um. With the number of infected. Ew, infected? That's nasty. Sorry, I... I"
She was becoming disoriented, a glazed expression starting to wash over here as the force of the infection began to take hold.

Her hair was now flowing, down past her shoulders, trickling to a point that would have once covered her relatively average breasts that now burst forth, bulging, straining against the fabric that blushed pink and strained to hold them in place.

"The number. This is like, really depressing - can we do some other story? Like, are there any nice stories?"

"Cut to pre-recorded footage, send in two people to get her off set" the earpiece blared.

"So much for 6 months without incident" the presenter groaned wearily, straightening his tie.