♠ 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

[outbounds]

Terminals... Clarify, please! Just to make sure we are talking- thinking?- about the same kinds of things. Like a PC, or a tablet? Xtransceiver? Rotom phone? ... BlukBerry? Pokegear?

[ there's an accompanying burst of visual for each rapidfire thought, though maybe they might or might not linger around long enough to get a good grasp of. the image of the PC, in any case, is the image of the typical wall-mounted ones accessible to the general public that you'd find in most public facilities like the Centers, league buildings, and battle facilities as opposed to the personal desktops people might have at home. ]

Even if we did find something like them though. Some of us don't even have hands or paws, just wings. Some of us have claws. If writing is hard for some of us then devices like that might be even harder.

But like Ingo, I am Emmet and I am also from somewhere that already had Pokemon. The region I am from is called Unova.

[ there's a moment where he tries to call up an appropriate map to illustrate, though it blurs jarringly before slowly filling in the blank parts with something a little more detailed, starting with the city in the center.

(in real life he just shook his head like an etch n sketch because probably, a topographical map might be more useful than just the subway lines). ]

[shotinhead]

[ Perrin listened, and then gave a little internal nod to himself. That looked like a nice place! Almost a bit like home, he thinks for a moment. And there's a small blip as he sees the machines, a thought of 'huh, those are pretty neat.' ]

I'm talkin' about terminals. Hang on, I'll--

[ What he thinks of is a very old-style computer, isn't it. ]

--I've got one in my suite back home. But these claws are so fucking hard to write with - but I gotta learn. What sorta Courier can't correct a fucking address? [ Oh. There is anger entering his voice, his thoughts drifting. ] Do you know how fucking annoying it is when you need to correct somebodies' handwriting because you need to figure out if they really want you to go somewhere dangerous or not? [ #justcourierthings ]

[outbounds]

[ oh, that is. that is verrrry old looking. and very clunky, it looks like. maybe that'd be a good thing, though, considering how many of them are in the 'big and or unwieldy claws' club. the image of the terminal in any case nets a flash of recognition and understanding, though no real response because instead: ]

I do not! I am Emmet. I have never worked in postal services. [ the brief flicker of an amused fragment of a thought; the trains and subway system, expansive, underground, routine and ever steady, repurposed for mail delivery— ] But I can imagine it'd be frustrating! Hopefully those in need of your services here will not be the same.

[ why is that all said with almost a chirping 'sound' to it. ]

[shotinhead]

[ Honestly, it reminds him a bit of one of the machines he misses so much. Always cheerful, no matter what's said. His telepathic voice had shifted to something nicer. ] Well, it's sort of in th'name, isn't it? Courier Six. [ A stray telepathic thought. ] Best name t'use here.

But I dunno. Might not be a courier here. Yeah, even with the wings - they've got their own jobs. Though it makes me wonder. Like--

Wait. Wait a second. Back up. You've got working trains where you come from.

[outbounds]

[ Those sure are stray telepathic thoughts he's catching, but he will stay behind the yellow line and not comment right this instant. It doesn't seem like he was supposed to 'hear' that?

Besides, the more immediate topic is... ]

Oh. You do not?

[ have working trains, that is. ]

That is kind of sad to hear. [ Whatever world or timeline Courier Six comes from sounds like the opposite of fun. Like. To be clear, this was already apparent from some of the other things mentioned, either in conversation previously or in this address on the network now. But now it is even more clearly not-fun. ] Is it lack of infrastructure or something else?

[shotinhead]

[ Suddenly, there's deep thoughts. And Perrin getting on and infodumping. ]

Well, a lot of it has to do with the loss of infrastructure, and the lack of knowledge t'fix them up. Like, the NCR has been workin' on getting the lines refurbished, but there's a lot of issues around that. Like, I heard there's a line or two workin' around the Mojave, but I've never seen it, myself.

...

Except for ones turned over and let to rot. But I'm guessin' that you don't like hearin' that, yeah?

[outbounds]

It's disappointing to hear! Definitely! But from the sounds of things, where you come from has a lot of things to deal with already so it makes sense they might not be a priority.

[ Emmet certainly doesn't mind infodumping, even if he isn't always the wordiest in response. There's a sense of attention, alert, listening, processing; ]

It's just sad. Hearing about things that have been maintained so long, being so run down where you come from. Do you go on foot for your deliveries then?

[ Maybe there are still other vehicles? Maybe? ]