ʙᴀɴᴀɢʜᴇʀ ʟɪɴᴋs (
argents) wrote in
savetheearth2013-07-01 12:17 am
003 — handwritten [graph paper]
[ July 1st.
This time, Banagher's number is copied down on graph paper. What appears isn't anything handwritten, but a rough technical sketch. An empty jumpseat of some kind, crowned by three screens and what looks like an impossibly advanced panoramic HUD. The rest is left sparsely detailed — no buttons, concrete controls, or clues as to what this cockpit (what else could it be?) belongs to. Save for the odd one-on-one occasion, he's been tight-lipped about what exactly has splashed itself uninvited across his memories, never knowing for sure what to trust when it came to himself. Never quite believing he could have been this... thing's pilot.
Off to the side, around some messy notes, is a scrawled out line of text in another language: À mon seul désir. There's a poetic ring to it, nearly romantic.
It's odd, placed next to a piece of technology so futuristic. ]
It's weird. I had to wrack my brain to remember this thing enough to put it on paper, even if I can't forget it. [ A pause, possibly to tap his pencil. ] If you asked any kid when they were younger what they wanted for their birthday, a giant robot probably ranked pretty high, right? Not so much when you're 18, though. When things like this aren't even supposed to be real...
[ Let alone crazy brain powers. At least he was getting used to those. And more importantly: ]
...it could have come with a better name.
[ Which he is hoping like hell wasn't his doing. ]
This time, Banagher's number is copied down on graph paper. What appears isn't anything handwritten, but a rough technical sketch. An empty jumpseat of some kind, crowned by three screens and what looks like an impossibly advanced panoramic HUD. The rest is left sparsely detailed — no buttons, concrete controls, or clues as to what this cockpit (what else could it be?) belongs to. Save for the odd one-on-one occasion, he's been tight-lipped about what exactly has splashed itself uninvited across his memories, never knowing for sure what to trust when it came to himself. Never quite believing he could have been this... thing's pilot.
Off to the side, around some messy notes, is a scrawled out line of text in another language: À mon seul désir. There's a poetic ring to it, nearly romantic.
It's odd, placed next to a piece of technology so futuristic. ]
It's weird. I had to wrack my brain to remember this thing enough to put it on paper, even if I can't forget it. [ A pause, possibly to tap his pencil. ] If you asked any kid when they were younger what they wanted for their birthday, a giant robot probably ranked pretty high, right? Not so much when you're 18, though. When things like this aren't even supposed to be real...
[ Let alone crazy brain powers. At least he was getting used to those. And more importantly: ]
...it could have come with a better name.
[ Which he is hoping like hell wasn't his doing. ]

text
A ... giant robot?
( text )
[ ...GOD NOW IT SOUNDS DUMB. ]
Um, yeah. I think so. I don't remember it all the way yet...
( text )
Oh! And before I forget, I have a present for you. Well, two, actually.
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Text;
( text )
[ Isn't he lucky... ]
( text )
In some roundabout way, that is.
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But it doesn't actually look like one!
[ SHOT IN THE DARK. ]
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[handwriting]
[There's a brief pause in Regina's neat writing. Call her intrigued.]
Giant robots, huh? Sounds a lot better than whatever else people have been receiving lately.
( handwritten )
[ ...is the translation that scripts itself beneath the words. ]
You know, I can't even speak a word of French. I just can't get what it means out of my head either. And I was trying to think like that too but
I guess it still seems a little crazy to me. Something of that scale actually existing, I guess.
( handwritten )
[Not that Regina usually says it much, but hey.]
Maybe it just means you're magically knowing the French language? It's strange for sure, but that's par for the course. Robots, though... do you know if anyone else is getting visions of them?
Re: ( handwritten )
[ Which was no weirder than everything already happening, granted. ]
There's someone who actually knows it better than I do. Someone who remembers me, when I can't remember her back. She even saw it.
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[Handwriting]
Believe me, I have a pretty good idea of how you feel.
( handwritten )
( handwritten )
I got the plans. My brother got the robot itself.
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( handwritten → video )
[Text > Permavideo]
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[handwritten]
Happy birthday! Perhaps you're an astronaut from the future.
What's the name?
[ that is p. much the extent of his artistic skills. ]
( handwritten )
[ Tap tap. Little pencil marks. Tap tap tap. ]
...no, you'll laugh
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I promise I won't laugh. [ pause. ] You wouldn't be able to tell if I did. But I promise!
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I thought it was the future-chair for a computer or something, lol. That many screens. I guess it's hard to say what can't be real these days.
Happy birthday, by the way, and may you have many happy returns.
( text )
[ APPLE IBOT that sounds legit, right? Too Isaac Asimov? ]
Thanks. As hard as it is to say what's real and what's not real, it's easy to lose focus of the everyday stuff too, I think.
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We gotta try to hang on to what we can while we can, right?
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[ text | cellphone ] screw it HELLO ONGOING THREAD NUMBER 3
[Thank you Google Translate.
but seriously. What?]
( text ) not like i like you too or anything
Something out of my memories.
*huff* b-baka
Did the 'other you' speak French? Is that... creation your one sole desire?
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