ʙᴀɴᴀɢʜᴇʀ ʟɪɴᴋs (
argents) wrote in
savetheearth2013-07-01 12:17 am
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
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. ]
no subject
We gotta try to hang on to what we can while we can, right?
no subject
Still, these clues kind of feel like they're taking over.
no subject
Mmm. What helps for me, so far, is to take a few days and hang out with people, doing normal things. Doesn't take it away, but it's good to be reminded that the real world is still here, and I'm still part of it.
no subject
Yeah...I keep trying to remember how summer started out last year. It's like night and day. But I know what you're saying should work, it just feels...
[ Heavy. ]
no subject
Give it a few days, so it's not so immediate. Maybe that'll help. You can get used to anything - or well, starting to think *I* can. No matter what changes, the world keeps turning and regular things still have to happen. Right?
no subject
The world turns even when there are things trying to change it, I know, I just didn't think I'd be changing along with it. But I might not be as good as getting used to it, even when there are a lot of people going out of their way for me.
no subject
Well, good luck I suppose? I guess this is all individual anyway. It might or might not be any consolation to remember that you're not the only one going through this sort of thing.
( 1/2 )
( 2/2 )
I could probably use some Pollyanna thoughts, huh?
no subject
no subject
How about you? Nothing else has changed?
no subject
lol, no, I'm okay. Nothing new. That said I'm sure I've now gone and jinxed myself, lol.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
But wouldn't that make no sense? If the things we're supposed to be fighting were the things that were changing us?
no subject
Man we're all just fumbling around, here.
no subject
no subject
Huh. Do they seem weird?
no subject
[ A few moments pass before a picture text comes along. It's taken through a window and around a curtain, all incognito-like. Three or so house sparrows are parked outside his kitchen windowsill, flitting here and there. The only odd thing about them is the oddly finger-like appendages where their primaries should be. ]
Like when this first started. They come and go, but I get the feeling they're attracted to people like us.
no subject
Spies?
no subject
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
( 1/2 )
( 2/2 )
(no subject)
(no subject)