♪ EXEC_07/. ♫

[fallbythesword]

[There's a short little reyvateil chilling on the beach, sitting up under a palm tree. There is a box of cookies sitting beside her, and a data pad (that any Freelancers may recognize) in her lap.

She looks... a very forced sort of blank, right now.

She scrolls through the info on the data pad, frowning thoughtfully through most of her time spent looking down, but every so often that frown turns a little dark - moments when she can no longer read something she could before, when data seems to be missing, when she spots an inconsistency that wasn't there before... She's pretty sure she knows what this means, as it relates to this place and its... machinations.

And she doesn't like it. At all. ... How dare they. How dare he? No. Not him. Just... them.

That forced stoicism remains as she reaches for one of those cookies, unwraps it and gently nibbles at it, still flipping through the data pad. Some might call it obsessive, the way she's going through it over and over and over. She wouldn't care.]

Comments

[fallbythesword]

It's primary purpose is data storage. Mostly text, but there's audio, video and image data as well. That's what I've found, anyway.

[She tilts it a little, so he can see the screen: she currently has two files open, side by side, both full of text. Short-hand, a lot of military speak. Nothing very private or confidential at all. Actually, if he even bothers to try and read it, it all just sounds like a routine training session.]

I wouldn't be surprised if military personnel use them more than others. I wouldn't know. It doesn't come from my world.

[dododo]

Oh.

[ He thought it was from hers. ]

Where did you find it, then?

[fallbythesword]

[She hesitates before she answers - she has to keep from giving away her feelings, after all.]

It appeared in my world, as part of a reality merger with someone here.

[dododo]

Ah. Interesting. I haven't had that happen to me yet. Whose world is it from?

[fallbythesword]

[Another noticeable hesitation goes here!]

... A man named Agent York.

[dododo]

Ah!




I have no idea who that is.

[fallbythesword]

[She chuckles, lightly.]

I see. Have you met any of the agents, then? They often walk around the plane in full body armor. York's was a golden color. I've seen others in purple, and one in steel gray.

[dododo]

[ Thinking, thinking. ]

Yes, I think I've seen people in armour.

[fallbythesword]

[She nods.]

They all appear to be from the same world. I knew York better than I knew the rest of them.

[... Knew. ... That hits home a little too much, and she suddenly frowns again. But, a second later, she's sighing at herself and trying to carry on.]

[dododo]

[ Oh, but he notices.

And he's just going to settle down next to her because he figures he might be here a while. ]

Haven't seen them in a while?

[fallbythesword]

[sjdlfjk stranger sitting next to her and asking things what. Why are people so weird??

She nods once, curtly.]

I have reason to believe he can no longer come back to the Plane at all. I know the Machine picks and chooses who can come or not, to some extent.

[dododo]

[ Or it's just him. ]

I wonder how it does it.

[fallbythesword]

Who knows? It's probably part of the theme of experimentation they have going on here. Either the tests subjects outlive their usefulness, or it's an experiment in itself.

[... Maybe if she keeps thinking about it objectively, in terms of machinations outside of everyone's control, it won't hurt so much.]

[dododo]

Hmmm. I wonder.

Perhaps people simply break free.