01 - handwritten and voice

[somedaytogether]

[The page is covered with notes on the roses she has been tending – measurements of growth, records of infections and fungus attacks, times of watering – everything that might be useful to the next generation of plants. Rita reaches over and scrawls the number at the bottom of the page, and then watches in disbelief as half the notes disappear beneath a wall of text.

She reads carefully over as many of the old posts as she can, following the links to the FAQ. As she reads, she mutters out loud to herself.]

This is so weird. It seems so impossible, and yet it’s happening. I’m sure it is happening. I haven’t gone mad, though the world might have. And the roses. How do I explain them? Why do they feel so familiar?

[She realizes that this is being transmitted.]

Well that’s awkward. My apologies to anyone who runs across this. I didn't realize how, ah, flexible the system was. And if you are listening, then I suppose I should say nice to meet you.

[closed]

[wirsinddiejager]

Who: Alan and Octavia
Where: Alan's house
When: August 12
What: Children talking about memories of horrible violent death

( if you're ever sad think about me getting swallowed by a titan and feel even sadder )

[Voice | Cellphone]

[dododo]

[ There's a pause, because after John starts up the recording, he wonders if maybe he should just drop it after all. How important could it be, anyway? Not like they actually need to know, but...

He wants to know more about Echoes, he supposes that's it. And information can only help. So he takes a breath, and talks. ]

Apparently, I can suddenly... understand things. I've had basic knowledge of modern technology all my life, kept up best I can, but. This. Never like this.

[ A pause. ]

I fixed a laptop today. Haven't been able to do anything about it for a week... I don't know why it was given to me in the first place because I've never been known to do miracle work on technology. But I sat down with it to try at least one last time and I just knew.

...I guess I don't need to worry about things breaking on me again.

[ He laughs a little to himself, pauses again, and clears his throat a bit awkwardly. It's a pretty uneasy thought, honestly, as convenient as it is. ]

I suppose this would be one of those Echo things, yes? What exactly do we know about them, aside from what they can be? Why do we call them Echoes? That's what puzzles me most. Who thought of the name in the first place? It has to come from somewhere.