text; computer;

[hotshots]

[It had been one hell of a strange couple weeks for Neil Dylandy. Running afoul of a few scattered members of the Blood Keys at the very beginning of the month was not necessarily that unusual in and of itself, from reports he'd heard. But those numbers, that flash of... memory? That was another matter entirely. Neither were things he could rightly get out of his head.

The past few weeks, then, had been served investigating this "Network." To say it was... suspicious would be putting it in the most mild of terms. If any of it were to be believed, it was something that could change the world. Some videos seemed almost remotely convincing - a horse? Really?! Beyond just your standard viral video crap.

There was still some skepticism, though. He could see that was frequent with newcomers. It probably wouldn't get him anywhere fast, and fast was how he wanted to get to the bottom of things here. He may have been retired from the military, but he still felt some sense of civic duty... There were most definitely some people on here that he would describe as "volatile." If these so called powers were also true - something he wouldn't have even started to buy if not for the Network itself materializing on a damned notepad when he wrote the numbers down on it one day - then... That was sure as hell worrying. So was this nonsense about the police.

Aliens.

...holy shit, there was a lot of kids on here...]

Yo!

So, let me cut to the chase. You don't want a bunch of ooh-ing and ahh-ing over this strange, new, magical network or your so-called super powers or whatever. I can see you get that a lot.

Tried the paper trick, that works, so it's clear SOMETHING weird as hell is going on. I'll buy that much.
I read the FAQ.
Watch out for the cops, I know.
Aliens might be coming to probe us anally. Or have they already started that already?

Either way - all I guess I'm interested in for a start is this stuff about memory pulses. If you knew what caused them, or anything, I'm sure that'd be up here... Well. Somewhere.

So let's try this: Fancy-assed futuristic cockpit. Way beyond anything we've got nowadays, like something out of a sci-fi movie that costs way too much money to make. Also a little too roomy to be a fighter jet's cockpit, but... Obviously I - or whoever the hell - was piloting something, just nothing to tell me what it was.

Maybe a shot in the dark, but... Hey. Work with what you've got.

If you want something to call me, lets just go with "Lockon Stratos" for now.

Yeah, yeah.

It's pretty great.

I know.

[No, seriously.

He legitimately thinks that sounds awesome.]

Comments

[argents]

Well, it depends on your definition of "good".

[ It's a voice that replies now, via Facetime on his phone connection to the network. But there's no person to accompany it — rather, the camera pans across a messy desk and lands on a rather plain-looking occupant. ...Who just sits there. Banagher sighs. ]

Come on, don't pretend that you don't like talking!

[ In response, there's a quiet whirring of hydraulics as the basketball-sized robot flaps to life. Eyes lighting up, it replies: "Like talking! Like talking! Hello! Hello!"

Given that the little voice is mechanical, the greeting doesn't sound unlike "Haro". ]

He's not exactly a war machine.

audio;

[hotshots]

[At first, Neil considers switching to video to match, but... No, that's fine. He still would rather keep himself under wraps as much as possible. Regardless, he switches his messages to Banagher to audio... since this guy isn't showing himself, either.

He stares at the green ball. He starts to feel some sort of odd, familiar, tug.]

Man, that's a little underwhe--

[Then it hits him like a sack of bricks. That hollow feeling returns, and a moment later, there's a loud WHAM! Then a shout. A curse, and something... metallic hitting a floor.]

God... Dammit! My face, what the...

Hello! Hello!

...hell was...

Watch your head! Watch your head!

[argents]

[ Banagher had expected the usual reaction to Haro, maybe, or even a little disappointment, but not all the commotion that suddenly erupts from the line. For a moment, he's so startled that he instinctively blurts out: ]

H-Hey! Are you — okay?

[ He only trails off because it hits him belatedly: he knows what all of that was. Banagher flips his phone at light speed, switching it to call mode so he can press it to his ear and listen better. There was really no mistaking the pitch of the second voice, but he still can't believe it. Another one? ]

Wait a second! Did you just, um...

[ From somewhere in the background on his end, there's a succinct: ]

Direct hit! Direct hit!

[ Banagher silently shoots him a look. Rude. ]

[hotshots]

Direct hit! Direct hit!

[Another groan, followed by a very disgruntled Neil:] What the hell was that? [A beat.] What the hell is this?

[argents]

There's no mistaking it, it really is him.

[ Almost to himself, as he listens to the little voices coincide between lines. Haro rolls himself forward across his desk, nearly careening into the side of his arm. ...Was he excited to hear another one? ]

Banagher! Two! Two!

That's... Haro. Or it sounds like one.

[ Then, flatly: ]

Did he hit you in the face?

[hotshots]

Lockon! Lockon!

Haro... wait, how the hell does he know that name?

[He shakes his head unseen on his end.]

Ugh, but... Yeah. It did. Does stuff usually just drop out of the sky like that? [Pause.] ...that had better not happen with the Gundams.

Brother! Brother!

[argents]

Brother? [ LOOKS AT PHONE. LOOKS AT HARO. BOY DO U HAVE SOME 'SPLAINING TO DO. ] Um, well. If you pulsed him back, it means he belonged to you. Mine knew my name too, and someone I... [ He wanted to say 'know', but stops. ] — knew.

[ Banagher lifts his free arm to push his palm against Haro, wheeling him back a ways while he belts out greetings. ]

Brother? Haro! Haro! Good aim!

Come to think of it, he's the only thing that appeared like that. Everything else has either been waiting for me, or something similar. I don't really know, about the Gundam... or, Gundams.

[ Banagher still can't believe that part, in actuality. ]

[hotshots]

Haro, Haro...

[Neil gives another groan and... another damned pulse. He stops for a few moments.]

...Jesus Christ, if you guys give me one more of these things, I'm going to... I don't know, something. My head still hurts. Get back to me later.

He's my... co-pilot... Co-pilot? Really. [You can almost audibly hear him palm his face.] Really.

Partner! Partner!

Partner... [...heh.] Well, I guess seeing is believing, as they say.

[argents]

[ Now that takes Banagher by surprise. He sits up straight, allowing Haro to go free. ]

...I've never heard of anything like that! Being a co-pilot.

Friends! Friends! Like to help!

[ Once the robot is free, he takes the opportunity to ping himself into the air in what Banagher assumes is still excitement, flapping and doing himself no good in staying airborne. Instead, he drops back down onto the desk with a loud THWACK, rattling its contents. ]

Hey, come on, I know you're excited, but...

Meet up! Meet up!

[ An exhale. ]

Sorry, about the pulses.

audio; private;

[hotshots]

[There's a moment of clicking around, typing something else, and the call becomes private. There's a reason for this which he'll get to in a moment-]

Meet Brother! Meet Brother!

[Neil's Haro becomes less audible moments later, and there's the sound of something rolling backwards as he continues to chirp and shout across the room.

Yes, he may have just - LIGHTLY - kicked him back and away.]

No apologies necessary, headache aside. This kinda proves things, at any rate. Don't know just how this thing is supposed to co-pilot a giant robot, but maybe he's got some sort of... interface to it or something. Who knows.

[There's a slight pause.]

It's Neil, by the way. Neil Dylandy.

( audio, private )

[argents]

[ After Banagher realizes the connection has shifted, he switches in kind. Part of him has never really subscribed to keeping himself off the radar, but that had changed when his mother was put in danger. So while he's as stubborn as ever, he's grown to realize — people have reasons. ]

It's hard to really believe in it until it — [ Saying "hits you in the face" would probably be poor, if not accurate, wording. ] ...until the pulses get too real to ignore. No matter how fast or slow they happen, that's true. Of everyone.

[ It's something he lets hang there innocuously for a moment before responding to second bit of info. ]

Neil. So, I'm guessing Lockon Stratos might have been a pulse too. ...I'm Banagher.

audio; private;

[hotshots]

[A slight laugh. He then groans. It hurts to laugh after taking Haro to the face.]

Yeah, can't really ignore this little thing smacking you in the freaking skull.

[A beat, before he continues:] Well, good to meet you at least, Banagher. Probably gonna lie low a bit myself, see what comes up...

But I get the feeling I'm gonna have a lot more questions for you in the future.

( audio, private )

[argents]

You too. I can't promise that I'll know anything for sure, but... even I can't deny the advantages. To having someone around who knows the same things you do, I mean.

So whatever it is, I'll try.