challenge response
(OOC: Sari's response to the April challenge is spoilery if you haven't watched the series. these elements may have already been spoiled for you--at at least one aspect has, certainly--but you also may have missed them. if you want to retain at least a little bit of surprise when you watch TFA, i recommend skipping over this until you've finished it.)
It is late evening as this planet recons time in this region. Not quite dark, but not daylight, and the chill of an early spring night is settling over the city of Detroit.
The tiny, stasis-locked protoform hidden in the building knows nothing of this. It knows nothing at all of the universe around it, nothing of a desperate creator seeking to keep it safe or of a war dating back thousands of this world’s centuries. It knows nothing at all, and would end its days with a blank processor without the intervention of fate.
Fate is a small, overweight native of this planet tonight. He is lost in his thought processes and does not immediately notice the protoform hidden hastily in his workspace. He is understandably shocked when he does find it.
Carefully, he reaches out and touches it.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
I remember being warm. It seems silly, but that’s what I remember most.
There was nothing, and then I was warm. And there was a voice. It was really soft and gentle. I don’t remember what it said, but it put me at ease. Nothing at all could hurt me or make me afraid while I was wrapped in that warmth and listening to that voice.
I really can’t describe it better than that. There isn’t anything in my memory before the warmth, even if there is a lot of life after.
It always seemed weird to me that I could remember something so… intangible for so many years. But I always did, and now it makes sense. That was… I’m pretty sure it was the moment I was born. Came online, whatever.
And how cool is that? How many people actually get to say they remember being born? Well, okay, aside from like everybody here, how many people get to say that? How many people really remember that first second that things are real and that very first thing that you ever knew?
I even remember being picked up and held, though I don’t remember what my dad looked like back then. I guess he was probably a little younger, and maybe didn’t have as many grey and white hairs yet. I don’t think his voice has changed at all.
Sometimes I wish I could remember more of that first day. What was it like for him, trying to figure out where I came from and how he would explain me? What did he think about doing with me? Was there ever a doubt that he would keep me? How did he come up with my name?
I know some kids go through phases where they think they weren’t wanted, but that never happened with me. Not even when we’d fight or my dad would lock himself in the lab for days on end. I always knew I was wanted and that I was loved.
Even when I was mad at my dad for not telling me what I was-not that he really could have, because he didn’t know either-I was warm. I knew he loved me, even if I felt like I couldn’t trust him. (And I dunno why I thought that anyway, I just did.) Even as I was crying myself to sleep at night, I remembered being warm and safe.
I was always warm.
(OOC 2: this is not a medbay post. also, this is not a general response post. treat it like a closed thread and please don't respond in character if you've not been planning out plot with me this week. plotty co-conspirators, you know who you are and you are welcome here.)
It is late evening as this planet recons time in this region. Not quite dark, but not daylight, and the chill of an early spring night is settling over the city of Detroit.
The tiny, stasis-locked protoform hidden in the building knows nothing of this. It knows nothing at all of the universe around it, nothing of a desperate creator seeking to keep it safe or of a war dating back thousands of this world’s centuries. It knows nothing at all, and would end its days with a blank processor without the intervention of fate.
Fate is a small, overweight native of this planet tonight. He is lost in his thought processes and does not immediately notice the protoform hidden hastily in his workspace. He is understandably shocked when he does find it.
Carefully, he reaches out and touches it.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
I remember being warm. It seems silly, but that’s what I remember most.
There was nothing, and then I was warm. And there was a voice. It was really soft and gentle. I don’t remember what it said, but it put me at ease. Nothing at all could hurt me or make me afraid while I was wrapped in that warmth and listening to that voice.
I really can’t describe it better than that. There isn’t anything in my memory before the warmth, even if there is a lot of life after.
It always seemed weird to me that I could remember something so… intangible for so many years. But I always did, and now it makes sense. That was… I’m pretty sure it was the moment I was born. Came online, whatever.
And how cool is that? How many people actually get to say they remember being born? Well, okay, aside from like everybody here, how many people get to say that? How many people really remember that first second that things are real and that very first thing that you ever knew?
I even remember being picked up and held, though I don’t remember what my dad looked like back then. I guess he was probably a little younger, and maybe didn’t have as many grey and white hairs yet. I don’t think his voice has changed at all.
Sometimes I wish I could remember more of that first day. What was it like for him, trying to figure out where I came from and how he would explain me? What did he think about doing with me? Was there ever a doubt that he would keep me? How did he come up with my name?
I know some kids go through phases where they think they weren’t wanted, but that never happened with me. Not even when we’d fight or my dad would lock himself in the lab for days on end. I always knew I was wanted and that I was loved.
Even when I was mad at my dad for not telling me what I was-not that he really could have, because he didn’t know either-I was warm. I knew he loved me, even if I felt like I couldn’t trust him. (And I dunno why I thought that anyway, I just did.) Even as I was crying myself to sleep at night, I remembered being warm and safe.
I was always warm.
(OOC 2: this is not a medbay post. also, this is not a general response post. treat it like a closed thread and please don't respond in character if you've not been planning out plot with me this week. plotty co-conspirators, you know who you are and you are welcome here.)