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    Eastern Eden.

    Bad John
    Freelancer Operative

    Posts : 1224
    Join date : 2013-01-17
    Location : A box in the United States.

    Eastern Eden.

    Post  Bad John on February 11th 2014, 11:32 pm

    Chat Log 1-1:
    Terminal 1 has failed to establish connection. Responder 99 is inactive in this timeline.

    T 1: sonny
    T 1: sonnyyyyyyyy
    T 1: dude u there?

    Responder 99 now active.

    T 1: hello? sonny? r you there? i just got a strange error message and it wouldn't let me send anything for a sec
    T 1: i cant access ur cam drone either :\
    R 99: Boop.
    R 99: The screen works.
    R 99: Someone must have been typing on it.
    T 1: yeah u were
    T 1: dipshit
    R 99: Who is this?
    R 99: How are you sending messages to this thing? Are you nearby?
    T 1: its meeeee
    T 1: sue
    R 99: ...Alright. You seem to know me somehow, but that's impossible. I've never held a device like this, or talked to a person named "Sue". I've also never spoken to a person who can read and write, which you seem capable of.
    R 99: Well...moderately capable of.
    T 1: fuck u just because i don't use fancy words doesn't mean im dumb
    R 99: I don't mean to antagonize you, but you seem to have a loose handle on this situation, and you're not helping me understand it at all. This device has no wired connection. How are you messaging it, Sue?
    T 1: holy crap
    T 1: is this the first time ive ever talked to you for you?
    R 99: Not entirely sure you're phrasing that right, but it is the first time I've ever even picked something like this tablet up. I just found.
    T 1: have you talked to anyone named doctor itoh?
    AR 99: No.
    T 1: holy shit
    T 1: for you, i'm the first person to ever talk to you
    T 1: wow
    R 99: Is this a bad thing?
    T 1: stay there, and do NOT put down the autoresponder
    T 1: ok? keep that in your hand or your pocket or something
    T 1: ill go get my dad
    R 99: Alright.
    T 1: and it's nice to meet you :)
    R 99: Why do you keep saying Sonny?

    The sound of a coffee machine peculating and bubbling was the only sound, save for fingers flying across keys. Alone in the well lit, perfect square of a room, a hunched over frame in a lab coat stared at the black screen.

    Any other day, it would be bright with moving, sometimes glitching visions as it hovered over a young gypsy's shoulder. Right now, it was black. The device was displaying what the camera it was linked to could see. The girl staring at the screen shed the labcoat, which was ten sizes too big for her tiny frame. She clutched at her dark hair, and mashed her hands against her brown skin, unable to believe what had just happened.

    She had made Sonny's first contact with her family. From her perspective, she had spoken to him many times, to the point where he should have recognized her childish way of typing.

    Sue gently wiped her nose, and stood up from the dented metal desk, and began powerwalking towards the door. She yanked it open, and started into the hall. Her walk sped as she raced down the earth toned, winding hallway, her small legs pumping out more speed with each step.



    In another place and time, a young man crouched, holding a small square of glass and metal. Careful not to break it, he ran his thumb across the glassy surface. It glowed, despite being mostly black. The parts that weren't black were covered in bold, white text containing his nonsensical argument with "Sue".

    The patter of softly flowing water over rusted metal kept him fairly company. The garbage dump, a rusted place of broken things, seemed like a good place to search for something of value. After ten hours of searching, he had found only this.

    Hm. Out of sheer curiosity, he ran his tongue over the glassy surface to see if it was edible. His tongue touched the charging port, and to his surprise, a bolt of blue light shot towards his teeth, arching onto the soft surface of his tongue. ZZZT! Like a ruler wielding teacher, the inanimate Responder Device scolded the young man for his recklessness.

    Shocked, he fell onto his butt and seethed for a moment, angry and embarrassed. Unable to cry out in pain and annoyance, he silently nursed his now numb tongue with one hand, staring at the screen.

    Sue told me to stuff it in my pocket. The traveler eyeballed the device, holding it in his palm and standing up straight. With a quick motion, he stuffed it into his pocket, stood up, and started to move on, his boots crunching a tin can.

    Thankfully, starting early in the morning meant that no matter how much time the Gypsy pissed away looking through old machinery, he still had the light on his side. It was barely approaching the afternoon, the blue sun hanging high in the sky, making its steady climb towards the top of the blue, lightly clouded dome. In a few moments, the Gypsy had totally forgotten about the Responder in his pocket, as he walked to the edge of, and out of the metallic dump.

    He had no place to go, and didn't recognize any of his surroundings. Nowhere on earth was home to him as he made his slow march in any direction he chose for the day. There were few paths to follow, and there was absolutely no purpose, or constant that kept him going. He simply couldn't find a suitable place to call "home". Settlements of other humans tended to be harsh, standoffish, and xenophobic, and without the ability to ask or respond or retort, being run out of town was a fairly rapid process.

    Being a mute, suspicious looking loner sucked.

    As the Gypsy walked along, kicking a rock, he came to a wide, gravel hillside. With a hop, he jumped towards the slope and slid down, his boots grinding against the white pebbles. He reached the grass at the bottom of the hill, trotting lightly until his momentum slowed. He returned to a walk, observing all around him.

    He could hear birdsong the clearest. The small, feathery critters often avoided human trash-heaps. That was rat territory. The more wholesome, tittering creatures chirped, flying from tree to tree. He inhaled, breathing in fresh air as he passed a tree, looking ahead, he noted the landscape before him.

    A looming, jagged mountain was directly in his line of sight, surrounded by strange, geometric shapes and pools. That place was clearly man-made, built back in a time when humanity had stranger ideas than just survival. The traveler drew a pair of binoculars from his bag for a closer look. It was several miles from him, so he couldn't make out particulars at first.

    The moment he started looking, he noticed moving, flickering purple lights, and dark windows. He put down his binoculars immediately. He didn't want to know.

    A massive, long island drifted over it, hung there by long dead science.  It may as well be magic. Even without his binoculars, he could make out stronger purple light coming from the floating, grassy structure.

    The Gypsy shuddered at the thought of going anywhere near that place, and started looking around for some other direction to walk in. Floating islands and old, massive buildings were often bad news.

    Before he could find another path to travel, the Responder started screaming bloody murder. It beeped over and over in the Gypsy's pocket, until he took it out and looked at it, reading the messages he'd missed.

    It was going to be a pretty long day.

    Last edited by Bad John on February 17th 2014, 2:10 am; edited 1 time in total
    Bad John
    Freelancer Operative

    Posts : 1224
    Join date : 2013-01-17
    Location : A box in the United States.

    Re: Eastern Eden.

    Post  Bad John on February 12th 2014, 1:49 pm

    Beakers lightly bubbled and frothed, as a man in a buttoned up, pinstriped shirt worked, his tie thrown over his shoulder. The blinds were down, as he worked by the light of the hovering lamp on his shoulder. It whizzed around, reacting to his motions to provide him the best possible lighting. He paused, wiping his eyebrows.

    He noticed, to his annoyance, a silver hair on his face. Probably his wife's, from one of her prolonged hugs. For years, he hated physical contact. He'd married her because he could STAND her.

    That was to say nothing of the mating process.

    Maybe I should check in with Sonny. He paused for a moment as he filled a small turkey baster with yellow fluid. Leaving him alone with Sue at the terminal could be wearing at his nerves.


    His daughter's shrill voice jarred him from his introspection. "Ugh. Sue, no need to shout." He refocused his efforts on his mixing. "I'm making oil paint for your mother. Be patient."


    The doctor's ears quirked up, as he heard the sound of socks sliding against linoleum, and then a loud thump. He turned, and walked to the door, opening it.

    Sue had misjudged her momentum, and slid across the floor, thumping against the far wall from his office. He would have laughed at her, but her misfortune was a non-issue. He briskly went to her and stood her up. "Are you sure? He doesn't remember you?" There was a rare twinge of excitement in his voice.

    His lively, dark skinned daughter vigorously nodded her head. "He doesn't know you either! It's his first time using the Responder! He says he just found it!"

    Itoh smiled. "Good work, Sue. I had HOPED I would be the first to talk to him."

    "Should I get mom, or uncle?"

    "No no no." Itoh shook his head, then thought. "Actually, yes. Your mother would want to make this a big occasion. Your uncle won't likely care." Sue nodded, and bounded off. "But mind your speed! You'll hit your head!!!"

    Doctor Itoh smiled at his daughter, as he walked down the hall. He gave a quick look out of the window at the city. Floating train cars zoomed by, and below, pedestrians chattered and walked. The sky was a soft, pastel blue, not a cloud marring the color.

    Adjusting his tie, he stepped into the square room with the odd, capricious terminal that connected him to his colleague, Sonny. It would be an odd task, letting someone he knew so well get to know him, a discomfort that Sonny had gone through before. If only their times had run in parallel.

    Itoh sat down at the table, poured himself a cup of coffee, and began typing.

    "Hello, old friend." Itoh murmured, giving himself to sentimentality. "It's good to finally meet you."

    Normally, I don't fuck with time travel at all, but I thought I'd give it a shot with this story.

    Sonny and Itoh's family live in very different times.

    Sonny is hundreds of thousands of years in the past, in a world that used to be technologically advanced. Society was destroyed, but left oddities like technological labyrinths, abominations, and creatures who blur the lines between humans, technology and monsters.

    Itoh lives in the future, where humanity has dusted itself off. He found the Terminal, an indestructable desktop PC that has a choppy connection to its linked device, a temporal Responder. He is able to contact Sonny, but it will sometimes jump to different points of Sonny's life. Itoh has been in contact with Sonny for two years, but now the Terminal has glitched back to Sonny just finding the Responder and meeting him.

    Freelancer Operative

    Posts : 1365
    Join date : 2013-01-17
    Age : 23
    Location : The Great White North (Canada)

    Re: Eastern Eden.

    Post  Manny on February 12th 2014, 9:18 pm

    Time travel huh?

    Sounds interesting.
    Bad John
    Freelancer Operative

    Posts : 1224
    Join date : 2013-01-17
    Location : A box in the United States.

    Re: Eastern Eden.

    Post  Bad John on February 17th 2014, 2:10 am

    Chat Log 1-2:
    T 1: I'm unsure how to begin, my young friend. First, I suppose I'll make a quick fix. Patch in the code that makes our text complimentary colors. Easier on an old man's eyes to read.
    T 1: Normally I don't stand on ceremony, or give myself to sentimentality, but I assure you, I've made exceptions on other days.
    T 1: My children's births. My Marriage. Even petty annual things, like birthdays.
    T 1: What am I saying. I'm quite given to sentimentality. Even now, I'm choking up. It's fortunate you cannot hear my voice yet!

    R 99: ...Ok. Let's start with who you are, and where you are.
    T 1: Of course. My name is Doctor Leopold Itoh.
    T 1: I already know the answer to this, but what is your name?
    R 99: Don't have one.
    R 99: Names are for people who know people.
    R 99: People who need to shout, "Hey name", or "Hello name".

    T 1: So, you have no name? No designation?
    T 1: You told me this would happen.

    R 99: I'm going to go out on an limb and say no I didn't.
    T 1: If I gave you a name, would you stick with it?
    T 1: I would feel so much more comfortable, giving you a name. A proud name. One that suits you.
    T 1: One that suits your creativity. Your courage.

    R 99: Eh. Why not.
    R 99: The name is for your sake anyway, since you're so damned given to talking to me, and calling me something.
    R 99: May I suggest "mutie", or "shitkicker"? I get called those a lot. Seems to have stuck.

    T 1: Petty names given to you by small minds. Pay them no thought.
    T 1: I already know what your name will be. But I wonder, what if I gave you a different name?
    T 1: Ours is a stable loop stitched between two different eras of history. What if I gave you a different name, would a different journey unfold?

    R 99: Stop saying weird shit at me, please.
    T 1: Let us begin the experiment. I will name you...

    Rolling his eyes, the Gypsy lowered the phone. It beeped incessently.

    What the fuck IS this thing. Why don't I just toss it as hard as I can? He tugged at his hood, gritting his teeth. He brought back his arm, ready to hurl the damn responder and be done with it.

    Curiosity stayed his hand.

    ...I guess he IS nice. And it's weird to talk to someone. A pang shot through his chest, and he raised the Responder, scrolling up. Itoh and Sue genuinely seemed to want him.

    He swallowed his anger and confusion, and looked down at the Responder's dark screen.

    T 1: Van Hohenheim.
    R 99: Wait. You want to CALL me that?
    R 99: Absolutely not.
    T 1: Oh, so you do take stock in what I call you?
    R 99: I suppose so. Look, you outsmarted a deaf mute scavenger. Good job.
    R 99: The Mayor will give you a ribbon made out of priceless "fuck off".
    T 1: Testy. You told me you'd be in a bad mood.
    R 99: You keep saying I've already done shit. I don't remember any of it. R 99: Just gimme the name you say you already came up with.
    T 1: The name I know you as?
    R 99: I fuckin' guess. Then, break down all the stuff I already did or whatever, so we can shape this up into a relationship that makes sense.
    T 1: Gabriel Sonarchy. Sonny, for short.

    The Gypsy looked at the screen, putting sound to the words he was reading.


    Sonarchy. Sonny.

    He felt oddly attached to the words. They hit him in a way no other written language ever had.

    Sonny. I am Sonny. He mouthed the words, pointing to himself. I. Am. Sonny. Sonny smiled. It sounded nice in his head.

    R 99: ...Huh. That's a good name.
    T 1: It's yours. Free of charge.
    R 99: ...Thanks. This certainly explains why that Sue was calling me Sonny.
    T 1: She already spoiled it?! I must have a talk with her later.
    R 99: Thanks.
    T 1: Of course! It is your name. I was just delivering it. But, you must do something in return.
    R 99: Oh come on. I knew there was a catch.
    R 99: "Free of charge". Yeah right.
    T 1: Oh, there's that pessimistic outlook. I guarantee that this partnership will be mutually beneficial.
    R 99: Oh yeah?
    T 1: Work with me, and together we'll get something done.
    T 1: You'll wield a sword of light. You'll become stronger and faster than any human you've ever encountered.
    T 1: You can stop surviving, and truly LIVE.
    R 99: You really have a way of selling things. You should be a trader, or a swindler.
    T 1: I've always written better than I speak. So, step one to our partnership. Can you see any large, unnatural structures?
    R 99: Yup. One of the steelmounds. And a floating island too. I was just about to go around it.
    T 1: Walk towards it. You need to go inside.
    R 99: Fuck off. I'm not doing that.
    T 1: Yes.
    R 99: This is where I say "no", right? Then we childishly go back and forth until I get frustrated? I said no, and we're leaving it at that.
    T 1: Yes.
    R 99: I'm not doing that. Stop it.
    T 1: Yes.
    R 99: I said no.
    T 1: Yes.
    R 99: No.
    T 1: Yes.
    R 99: Dammit. Fine. I'll do it.

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    Re: Eastern Eden.

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      Current date/time is January 17th 2019, 8:51 am