[at first, all you see is Alec's feet. The video feed snapped on when he happened to put his bag down a little harder than he should have. If you could actually see all of him, you could see that he's looking over a
red ball organ with a strange amount of intent curiosity
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Thank you.
[he isn't really sure what else to say]
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You are welcome. [Soft, actually reads the uncertainty even via the datapad, so - kind of - changes the topic.]
My name is River Song. So that you don't wonder much about whose praise you just received.
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[a pause, because if anyone appreciates a name, it's this kid]
That's a nice name. Did you pick it yourself?
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Not... quite. I was given another, but it got associated with something entirely mistaken [like twelve thousand consecutive life sentences], so I had to change it - and all I did was translate it, sort of.
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I didn't pick mine either. My friend Max named me.
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Names are a good bond, in families and with friends.
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I'm relatively new to the name thing. The people who raised me weren't too big on them.
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[Beat.]
... I hope it's only passing semblance. [Little does she know. Hello, people trained as weapons...]
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{ river song }
Covert government facility?
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Not quite. Actually, aliens and people working for them, aiming to assassinate another alien. But I would imagine creating a weapon doesn't emphasize on developing the personality of the subject.
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Not so much, no. They were always disappointed when we had too much of it.
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Oh, there were others. I was on my own.
Which was probably for the better, mind.
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Yeah, they built a whole army of us. Some of us worked, some of us didn't.
My designation was 494, if that gives you any kind of idea.
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