genessia | Action

Action | Outside the Bay | Midday

Broad shoulders and grim expression trained on the hologram as it begins to repeat itself for the third time cast a striking and imposing figure. With each successive repetition of Weiss' holographic address, Clay looks more angry, his eyes become harder and something like unease settles into his shoulders stiffening his stance as though he's prepared for some sort of attack that never comes. After the third replay of her recorded message, he turns his head to the stand of pamphlets, finally something beyond grim dissatisfaction gracing his features: confused concern. He takes them easily enough, shoving them into the back pocket of his jeans rather than reading them, except the one referring to Genessia City. That one he opens fully, to the map, visually associating his location with the indicated one on the folded paper.

He reaches into the front pocket of his jeans, pulling out the key that had been in the box he'd been left and then looks up in the direction indicated on the map.

"Free room and board's never good." The statement is made to himself rather than anyone else who may be around, though the latent telepathy he's been graced with will alert him to anyone walking up (unless their minds can't be detected that way) and he'll turn to regard them. There's a pistol in a shoulder holder under his left arm, within ready reach if he needs it, and from the look of him, he knows how to use it.

Audio | Open

(A few hours after he arrives, Clay decides to go ahead and address this Network. Normally, he'd have taken the time to get the lay of the land himself, but Earth, his Earth, has a very set way of doing things, something to build on. This place? "Starting at Square One" didn't exactly capture it.)

I'll cut right to the chase. I get there's a bunch of us trapped here. I get there's no way back, at least apparently. I'll bite for now. So, show of hands: who's been here a while, or who's been here for a bit and got some info, they'd be willing to share with a newbie?

Also, the name's Young. Clayton Young. So, what are we dealing with here? Aliens? Covert government experiments? Give a guy a hand.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

(His voice becomes more tightly controlled, even.)

Go for it. I can't wait.

Hah, then I won't keep you in suspense. throat clear.

[Ted's a prolific reader of all things put on the public network. His curiosity of the wondrous world and all the wonderful people in it knows no bounds. Given time he can dredge up facts about practically anyone if they forsake a private life enough.]

You used to work a private sector, paramilitary job. One that involved more than a few incredibly dangerous and immediate risks to your person. You've acquired some unusual skills. One among these is hacking and other computational wizardry. Another is CQC or martial arts, if your animus against punching bags is any indication. Your personality is coarse, which comes through comedically clear in your male friendships.

[Though that last one is probably easy to figure out within a few moments of meeting. Ted stops the rendition to see how much fun Clay's having.]

(So, not too much. That's...good to know.)

Okay.

(But he knows him. That's...something.)

That happen before? People being here, leaving, coming back and not remembering? Or am I just special?

(Or did someone get hold of my head and blank it. Again.)

[He was hoping for something more emphatic, like "Wow, you're an amazing telepath!" or "Rats, my deepest, darkest secrets!". Even something like "None of your business, weirdo!" would've been a little gratifying.]

Yes, there's been another case that I know of. The theory is that the longer the absence, the likelier it is you forget everything. But I've seen others return that can recall their previous time. It's all very odd.

(See, but that would be giving too much away, and Clay is very very private.)

...wonder if we learned something they didn't want us knowing.

(Because really, that's the only reason Clay can come up with for it.)

Hah, you detect some intent behind it, eh? And sinister intent at that. That's not the impression the spirits leave, fortunately. One gets the impression they may be even more desperate and helpless than we are. I'm no prescient mystic, but I would guess that prolonged separation from such an apart world lends itself irresistibly to forgetfulness. Ah, well. Nothing for it now, eh? Who knows, you may find others that rejoice at your return.

(He scoffs at that.)

You telling me you're happy to see me?

"Haha, well I'd have to, you know, see you before I could be happy about it. From your tone it sounds like it wouldn't be reciprocated. Just a happy possibility to keep in mind.

Is there anything else you'd like to know?"

Semantics. (He takes a breath.) I don't know. Did I like you?

[Odd question.]

"Alas, we knew each other naught. Due to your extreme privacy, no doubt."

Oh, yeah. "Alas." (A beat passes.) Listen, buddy. You always spin this purple prose shit, or am I just special?

"Ahaha, probably about as often as you say 'buddy' without meaning it. I believe you're just as special as everyone else."

(He chuckles.)

So you're saying you're being sarcastic most of the time?

[He makes an affected gasp]

Goodness, no! I'm as earnest as they come; you can ask anyone. I use that device very sparingly. You, I take it, are a little more fond.

(He smirks at that.)

No, really? Thanks for pointing that out, man. I never would've noticed.

[It's a mystery whether Ted's playing along or really that dense.]

You're very welcome; you see how adroit I am in bringing such pertinent information to light. Should you ever need that or another service of mine, don't hesitate to call.

(He scoffs.)

At stating the obvious, you mean. Newsflash, pal: nobody uses 'adroit' in conversation anymore. You just sound like a pretentious asshole.

Ahaha, I wasn't aware you were so beholden to convention. Well, if the word upsets you so much I have others. So long as I'm stating the obvious, I might as well state another: try not to assume the "pretension" of others too much. It's an amalgamation of places and, potentially, times. You'll hear all kinds of speech, though, thankfully, most of it English.

[Though Ted is from a conventional time period, not that one would know it to look at him*]

You said you were American, 'raised in the lap of liberty'. No American talked about the U.S. that way before the second world war. I'm not assuming everybody around here's pretentious, brother. Just you.

Hah, "brother", eh? Tell me, what's worse: false language, or false fraternity?

You really don't get when something's just a manner of speech, huh?

Certainly; no one likes figurative language like I do. It's simply a matter of what one means. If only you liked my manner of speech so much. Really, I'm hurt to not be given the benefit of the doubt from a fellow American. Every man deserves--

[And there's an alert on his phone.]

Rats; duty calls. Ah well, I'm sure you'll do just as well as before. Should you have any other pressing needs, be sure to call. Until then, go with the Mercy!

I can tell.

(He pauses.)

Sure, buddy. Go take care of that. Nice talking to you.

Action | Audio

(audio)

Re: (audio)

(audio)

Re: (audio)

(audio)

Re: (audio)

(audio)

Re: (audio)

(audio)

Re: (audio)

(audio)

Re: (audio)

(audio)

Re: (audio)

(audio)

Re: (audio)

(audio)

Re: (audio)

(audio)

Re: (audio)

(audio)

Re: (audio)

(audio)