♠ audio, 01

[shotinhead]

[ Perrin is still suffering from the nightmares, mind you, with this being the last day of them. So that's why this message first goes out quite late at night. Oddly enough, the message seems quite focused, though. Perrin knows how to handle his brain. But his voice is choppy, each word practiced. There's also a slight echo. (In real life, he is saying each word out loud before saying it in telepathy.) ]

--didn't know being a psyker was something technology could help with. Which is pretty impressive.

I know those were real people. Pokemon? Those guys who vanished. It's not like when I see people and then I'm the only one seeing them.

I know the doctor said they'd keep records, but we should too. Keep our own, I mean - and we can also figure out if there's a connection between us. First thing's first.

Where are you all from? I've heard that not all of you are American. Or from the same time as me - oh, that's right. I'm from the year 2281. [ Oops, his thoughts are spiraling. He's not saying this part out loud in real life, anymore. And sounding more casual. ] You know, it's pretty fascinating to meet people who are pre-War. I would have thought you would have been a lot weirder, but you're just like me. Without the survival instints, I mean. I wonder if it's true that people were just the same, and it was the governments and corporations that wanted to mess stuff up. Oh, but they didn't cause the Resource Wars, the lack of resources did... sometimes wish I'd read more up on history. I mean, pre-War history. Not just shit that happened near to me.

[ He seems to have forgotten this is telepathy and his thoughts are being broadcast for a while. Until-- ] Oh. Right. So I'm gonna be keeping a list of us. Uh, in a book. We don't have terminals here, and terminals could get messed up if some of the electricity messed up or if we forgot the password. And I'm not the best hacker. I'm also not the best at lockpicking, honestly.

So! Guess this is me asking about your home and what year you're from!

[[ This post can also be used as a mingle post, if wanted! The OOC post for the record keeping is here. Perrin will let anybody check it out, which is why he hasn't listed his real name in it. ]]

Comments

[quirkynote]

The possibilities of science are truly endless, it's only a matter of finding the right equipment~

["I break into labs for fun."

The giddiness is contagious, so much so that A.B.A nearly forgets that she'd be absolutely terrified of meeting a Pokémon that large in person. Is this what it's like to feel...normal? To have a conversation and not have people question her...everything?

It's nice.

Too bad it has to end, because A.B.A's own feelings of giddiness peter out when the question of her species comes up.]

I...have yet to have a name placed on the Pokémon I've become. I appear to be an anomaly...

[shotinhead]

[ He would keep talking about his boyfriend, but then, sounding a bit too excited for his own good: ]

You get to name your own monster, then!

[quirkynote]

[S-She does?! ...Oh, that does make sense... People who discover new species often get to name them, don't they? But what if she just hasn't met someone who has the information she needs? What if she finds a book, o-or runs into another of her species?!

It's so much pressure!]

....A-A.B.A.

[Creative.]

[shotinhead]

[ You know, he then pauses. ]

Is that your name? I don't think we've met before. Uh. Talked before. Thought at each other really hard?

[quirkynote]

...

[It's funny, A.B.A already really likes these grumpearls. They take a big, scary part of interacting with people away by simply not having the other person beside her.

But with the high of getting to talk about Paracelsus dwindling, it's only NOW that it hits A.B.A that she is, in fact, talking to another person. Someone claiming to be a large dragon, even. That sounds...terrifying. Someway, somehow, A.B.A's thoughts start to feel like they're shrinking in on themselves.]

Yes...that's right. My name is A.B.A... H-How do you do?

[Her question sounds...practiced. Like she's only asking because she feels like that's what she's supposed to say, rather than a genuine interest in how he's faring.]

[shotinhead]

[ It's an odd feeling. He can feel that, and instead, his voice shifts to something more casual in his mind. The sort he'd use to talk to friends. ]

Courier Six is th'name, A.B.A. Nice name you've got there. Common sorta name where you come from, or...?

[quirkynote]

[That is a lot more friendlier, but A.B.A isn't sure if she finds it comfortable or highly suspicious. ...Both? Can it be both??]

No...no, I don't believe so. Even Paracelsus's name is much different than my own. I don't mind, I've never been like everyone else... The name should match the one who wears it.

[shotinhead]

[ It can be both!!! ]

Well, t'be fair, my name is quite different then others. I think it sounds like a hobbit name. Then again, not everybody has memorized old-world books like that.

[quirkynote]

[As someone who woke up surrounded by walls upon walls of books, if The Hobbit wasn't among them, something was very, very wrong.

She still sounds confused, though.]

...you consider yourself a short fantasy person with large, hairy feet?

[The name should match the one who wears it...]

[shotinhead]

[ and yet he has only revealed the name courier six. ]

If I could just retire to the countryside and just be a gardener, now that's a dream life.

[ There's a flash of something. An accidental vision - everything is dark, so dark. It's hard to see anything except for the book Perrin is holding close, trying to focus on it. It's a very worn copy of The Hobbit, his fingers tightly gripping to the pages - flickers of electricity barely showing anything. There's another person leaning, the shadow of a child. It's a very... oppressive view. ]