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network: HUMANSONA420
WHO: bigby & you
WHAT: small, angry new yorker yells at small, purple phone: the genesis.
WHERE: over the network.
WHEN: before the event, aka right now, but can also be backtagged throughout it and after.
[This? This is not a phone. This is a little glowing square crafted from (presumably) plastic and fueled by (obviously) hatred with way too many picture boxes and keys that are too small for his fingers. Plus, it looks like it has a camera attached to it. So, clearly not a phone.
It is, however, the only usable item he's been able to find in past hour since waking up, excluding a walkie-talkie without batteries — which feels like some cosmic force's idea of a joke, just like everything else in this shithole. After what feels like a wretchedly long amount of time hitting the wrong buttons because, again, they're too goddamned small, Bigby finally reaches the screen he's looking for and somewhat literally takes a shot in the dark.]
hello
[That... also looks too small. Isn't there a way to make this shit bigger?]
hELLO
[Perfect.]
GOT A COUPLE OF QUESTIONS
MAYBE YOU'LL HAVE THE ANSWERS
1. IS THERE ANYONE OUT THERE FROM NEW YORK CITY
2. WHAT YEAR IS IT
3. WHERE CAN I FIND BATTERIES
[There's a pause on his end for a good two or three minutes as he stares at his screen, then something else occurs to him.]
4. WHAT THE FUCK IS A HUMANSONA420
WHAT: small, angry new yorker yells at small, purple phone: the genesis.
WHERE: over the network.
WHEN: before the event, aka right now, but can also be backtagged throughout it and after.
[This? This is not a phone. This is a little glowing square crafted from (presumably) plastic and fueled by (obviously) hatred with way too many picture boxes and keys that are too small for his fingers. Plus, it looks like it has a camera attached to it. So, clearly not a phone.
It is, however, the only usable item he's been able to find in past hour since waking up, excluding a walkie-talkie without batteries — which feels like some cosmic force's idea of a joke, just like everything else in this shithole. After what feels like a wretchedly long amount of time hitting the wrong buttons because, again, they're too goddamned small, Bigby finally reaches the screen he's looking for and somewhat literally takes a shot in the dark.]
hello
[That... also looks too small. Isn't there a way to make this shit bigger?]
hELLO
[Perfect.]
GOT A COUPLE OF QUESTIONS
MAYBE YOU'LL HAVE THE ANSWERS
1. IS THERE ANYONE OUT THERE FROM NEW YORK CITY
2. WHAT YEAR IS IT
3. WHERE CAN I FIND BATTERIES
[There's a pause on his end for a good two or three minutes as he stares at his screen, then something else occurs to him.]
4. WHAT THE FUCK IS A HUMANSONA420
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AND NO WONDER WHY THIS PLACE FEELS SO DEAD ON TOP OF LOOKING THE PART TOO
FOR A WHILE, I THOUGHT I WAS THE ONLY ONE ALIVE HERE
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( calm down there, bucko. )
what do you mean feels dead?
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not sure how this looks better to you. i feel like i'm writing a letter to ants.
and it means just what it sounds like. this place looks and smells like a tomb that's been unsealed for the first time in a century. hard to get away from that once you've taken a breath.
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( so, win some, lose some? )
smelled a lot of tombs in your life, man?
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in a sense. new york's full of abandoned places.
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getting hung up over how it could happen won't help us. right now, we should focus on where the weaknesses in its power lie. the hows and whys will fall into place as we look.
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haven't heard anything about mirrors yet, though.
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i was trapped in a room and the mirror was my way out.
real fairy tale crap.