15 November 2014 @ 07:44 pm
[ Skye's mostly watched the network, sending a few texts, but otherwise avoided people in any form since she woke up here. She's getting a little tired of ducking behind doors, though. It's like being back in her van and after being on the bus for so long, she's actually feeling lonely and claustrophobic at the idea. There has to be someone here with useful answers. ]

So is everyone here from Earth or what?

Anyone heard of SHIELD? Or HYDRA? I know someone who's really into Captain America. Is that a thing here? Is it too much of a leap to assume that you've heard of America at all?
 
 
video | failed transmission to alison hendrix

[Static clears. The picture sharpens into view, depixellates, holds steady: an impression of green grass, irregular trees, blurry periphery, the familiar landscape of the Oxygen Gardens. There is a young man in the foreground, his face narrow and pointed and his hair nearly as pale, shoulders slightly stooped inside the stiff confines of his black jacket, probably seated, hands in a fidget around his wand. Both he and the verdance behind him are distorted by two fine lines and a curvature of glass that no one has ever seen before on a communicator device.

Because it isn't only the communicator device. That would be the additional magnification of a rifle scope, trained steadily on Draco Malfoy's head.]


I a͈͎̘̙̭̱̫ͦ́̐̆̄̽͡m̳̬͉͈ͨͩ̐̾͌͆͜ͅ not 'boy.'

[The voice behind the scope might be familiar to some. Female, a heavy accent. Ukrainian. Not doing a very good impression of Draco, really, and not even the periodic disruption of interference can truly disguise her.]

You see, I have Adam's apple ▒nd very small stick. I am at least a man. At worst, I am man who likes to hurt women. I am loo̩͈̮ͫ̎̍ͥ̽̒́̕k̴̡̠̞̹͕̲̥̟͒̔̉͘ing around a little̬̣̖̩ͫ̓ͬ͛̊̎͌̉͡ͅ ̬͙̪͙̠̲̱̈ͫ̓b̻̭̍͆͑ͤ͘it feeling, hm, wha█ is this feeli̠̯̮̠̤͇̞͕̾͆͛̈͘͝n̵̝̯͉̜͙͕̣̫̚g̜̹̬̈͋͑̕. Scared. Scaredy-s̷̬̙̟͉͙̹̱͕̍̿ͭ̀́cͩ̉ͭ̍͏̪͍͇̰͠a̅̈̍̃ͯ̋͌҉̭͓̱r͉̱̠̖̻̫̖̾͒̾́̓̕e̶̱̭̼̰̥̝̬̫ͤ̇̌d̶̹͇ͥ͂̽ͦ̄ͬ͘y. I hurt women when I'm scared, but it doesn't helpͪ̑͏̡͎̗̹̻͉̬. So sad.░▒̧͇̞̞̼͍̫̤͙͉͕͍̑ͭ̊ͬ̋́ͧͭ̈́́͢ͅ▒̡̺̭̝̼͚̼̤̲̻͖̦͚̰̟̠ͪ̈́ͨ̇̀͊̂̎ͣͫ̑ͩ̅̑̂͐

Am I the one, ░ Alison?

OOC: The network technically crashes on the 29th. This post is in reference to this log, which we've chosen to postdate. If you'd rather not deal with the logistics of responding, feel free to say the comm didn't register until the network crashed.
 
 
Who cares if you die?

( feel free to interpret that however you please, denizens of the EXTREMELY POORLY NAMED tranquility! all possible interpretations are acceptable in harry's current state of complete emotional breakdown. he probably doesn't care if any of you die, for instance, and may bitterly resent you for having an actual answer to this question.

who cared when norman died? who really cared. people mourned the man who'd contributed so much, but that man was an idea. an image carefully cultivated. harry knew enough to know better, but even he wouldn't pretend to have known his father, and who's going to care when harry dies? just like norman did.

harry's legacy is just disappointment and isolation. his best friend is his only friend and he's pretty sure they're totally not friends any more, also. everything sucks and he broke a bottle when he got back to his room and he can't be bothered to clean it up, he's just going to sit here and hate all of you, publicly and violently, and

you know, by text, because he looks even shitter than usual. )
 
 
15 September 2014 @ 08:59 pm
Hi. This is Claire Bennet. You might know me. You might not. Nathan Petrelli is my father and, obviously, that means Peter is my uncle.

At this point, I'm sure that everyone is aware, but if you aren't: they have both gone as of the last jump. I'm not really equipped to deal with the holes that they left in their respective departments, so I won't waste everyone's time trying to offer a helping hand in that capacity or anything. I hope the positions get filled soon, even if they are big shoes to fill.

My main thing here is that... well, Nathan and Peter left me with three dogs. I thought about giving the two puppies up for adoption and, you know, running a background check to make sure potential applicants had never murdered a hamster or anything like that. But the more I think about it, the less right it seems to give away something that isn't mine to give. That being said, I need some help in about two departments here. Okay:

1. Can anyone go over the process for getting animals into the grav couches before the jump? Is there a special procedure I should be aware of? Do I just... plop them in there or what?

2. Is there any kind of, like... doggy daycare out there? Should there be? Should we just organize a ship-wide animal meet-and-greet of some kind? Along those lines, let's talk puppy play dates. Not even necessarily with other puppies. I know the dogs spent some amount of time with the comms department, too, so if anyone ever wanted to walk any of them... that would be great.

I'd really like to do this right, since they belonged to my family, and they obviously both cared about them.

Thanks.

EDIT: does anyone know how to use a sword? Specifically, a samurai sword.
 
 
14 September 2014 @ 01:46 pm
Hi Tranquility.

[ Meet Peter Parker, who doesn't often use video, but video seems like a less weird medium in this moment. The effects of his sickness are pretty much gone, and apparently, he's shacked up in Communication despite his designation being blank, department-wise. In the background is Harry Osborn, who appears to be ignoring what's happening, despite that Peter takes a moment to adjust the sit of his video feed to include him. ]

Peter, here. Um. When I first got here, I asked around for music players and stuff, and-- that's not a great barter system, obviously, especially if you can't even reliably charge your devices, so, we -- this guy, me, other people -- would like to bring you Spunes.

As in like tunes, space tunes. Not cutlery.

[ There is a pause, as if he's considering how he could have delivered that better. Behind him, Harry briefly lowers his face into his hands. ]

Yep, um. So, it's an app you can download onto your comms device -- I'll attach a link to the download to this -- and you can listen to music through it. We have caught up to the early 2000s, technologically, so, yay, for that. The, uh, the music actually comes from you. Right now we have one person's iPod treasures uploaded, but we'll need more, probably, no offense Darcy.

[ Harry interjects, without actually looking up-- ] Lewis, I’ve seen your contributions and I’m ashamed of you.

--we are accepting all music, so don't worry about that. Um, so yeah, if you wanna share, contact this guy at zero-32, zero-21, he will be nice. Or. You know. He'll upload your music, anyway. If you need help charging your devices, I've been working with Hank McCoy to make some chargers that'll be compatible with-- this place, generally, but we may need to customise based on what models you have, so let us know.

I think that's it. I'll play us out, how about that.

[ The video feed shifts a little as he fidgets with its controls, and then 'Fancy' by Iggy Azalea suddenly all but overpowers the feed. He grins immediately. ]

Oh man, Harry, it's your song.

[ Cue dancing. Not a lot of dancing. Just chair-grooving, definitely lip syncing, but it's enough to provoke reaction in the form of Harry’s slow, deliberate rise from his chair. He turns. He considers his options. Upon conclusion, he kneels on his rolling chair with one knee and uses the other foot to slowly, purposefully and very quietly close the distance, coming up behind Peter like he’s Jaws.

With great sense of solemnity, he catches Peter by the head and shoves his face into his armpit. ]


Make him stop.

[ Peter's grasping hands pause, and resume a kind of hand dance, but then the video ends. ]

[ As promised, there is an attachment that leads to the app tagged onto the post. Feel free to go nuts with it! ]
 
 
12 September 2014 @ 05:31 pm
hey it's sally

look, i just remembered something really bizarre that happened like a month ago that might totally have something to do with all of that nanite bullcrap, and i want to pass it off to someone who might actually have any idea what to do with it.

when you reply can you make it private or something? filtered or whatever - i just don't know how to do it in a way assholes can't hack, and i want to know who i'm actually telling this shit to
 
 
[He's about to use an integrated computer network to question the wisdom of an integrated computer network. He is well aware of how absurd that is. But it's the fastest way to find the ship's population as a whole. He'd never denied that there are conveniences to networks. He just doesn't consider them worth the risks.

And with the knowledge that there are Cylons on board. He can't just grumble any more. He has questions. He's managed to work out filters. Though he doesn't trust them enough to say why he has these questions.]


I want to know more about this network. What measures have we put in place to ensure security? Is there a way to isolate vital systems in case of a breach?

Never held with this much integration.
 
 
15 August 2014 @ 11:01 pm
The following is a report of the events that occured during the 32nd jump related to the reconnaissance mission into the ship's undocumented corridors lead by Commander Shepard. Perceived delays are the result of attempts to clarify information.

After Action Report, 32 Jump Cycle Exploration and Reconnaissance and Concurrent Incidents )
 
 
06 August 2014 @ 01:29 am
[Filtered away from Charlotte Daniau and Joseph Davis.]

[L's voice is smoother than he is in person — low, slightly English-accented, calm and articulate and completely assured. He hasn't had much call to make public announcements on the ship in the past, but Nathan has left it in his lap this time, and he's not a stranger to addressing a crowd in this kind of capacity.]


Greetings. This is Ryuuzaki, speaking on behalf of the Communications Department.

The corrupted audio message sent by Charlotte Daniau originated in the Crew Quarters, which are located several levels below the bridge. Natasi has already transmitted the fully restored version of the recording, which matches ours.

Obviously, we would advise caution in entering that area, but we can confirm that it's currently accessible. Those of you who are interested in pursuing this might also check in with Security to see how they intend to handle it.

The other voice in the transmission appears to that of Joe Davis, the only passenger from the nineteenth jump. We don't know his status, but in my opinion -- [at this point, very slight irritation creeps into his voice] -- this recording throws any information we've received from him in the past into question.


[He knew they should have interrogated Joe properly, even as he wonders now if it would have done any good. If Joe was here on an operation, he might have been very hard to break.

In any case, while things don't sound good for The (Putative) Man From Pernambuco, this is all formatted with the express intent of not tipping off either Joe or Charlotte. It's possible that Charlotte could use the reassurance, but L doesn't think it's a risk worth taking.]



[OOC notes: This is the second half of the information needed to launch CharlotteQuest on the 6th. IC-ly, it should be considered to have happened just long enough after Caprica Six/Natasi's post for characters to have started thinking about what to do about what they heard and even for them to have started conversations about it on that earlier post, if you want (even if you haven't yet started them before this post went up, in OOC time). Another idea is for other characters who were working on this and whose players want it noted that they solved it to pipe up and confirm the accuracy of what was posted.

L will talk to anyone who seems to want to talk to him in particular, if that happens, but also feel free to use this post to continue making plans, volunteer, work things out, whatever! He probably won't get involved in those other kinds of conversations past a comment or two, and other Comms people may hop into them, too.]
 
 
06 August 2014 @ 10:42 am
sometimes a prayer is only a voice in all the noise
maybe this one was meant for you


[ A file is attached; ]
! TRANSMISSION ERROR.
! TRANSMISSION RETRIEVED.
! CONTENTS FOLLOW.


[ MUFFLED, STATIC SCRATCHING. IT CONTINUES, FADING ENOUGH THAT OTHER SOUNDS BEGIN TO COME THROUGH: LOUD AND SHAKY, WET GASPS OF BREATH, AND THEN A MORE DISTANT, LOWER RHYTHM. THERE'S A BURST OF DULL CLICKING NOISES, AND THE SOUND BECOMES DISCERNABLE AS A MALE VOICE. ]

—red of clearing up your m—s. If you'd ke— on top of th— we wouldn't be in this —uation. They'd be —already.

[ A LOUD BURST OF DISTORTED NOICE, ELECTRONIC SHRIEKING AND DISCORDANT TONES THAT ENDS AS ABRUPTLY AS IT STARTED. ]

No, see, ca— in point. This shouldn't be dam— control. She should— happened at all. You were [ . . . ] —ing with your toys, distr—ted, and you coul— manage to fix— when it started. Now we— an accelerating —sue and I've had to get involved.

[ FUMBLED SOUNDS, FABRIC SCRATCHING STATIC AGAINST THE MIC AGAIN. FOOTSTEPS THAT GROW LOUDER BUT THEN TURN, GROW QUIETER, AND STOP. ]

You're done. Han— her, clear out your pets and— time for me to take ov— [ A SCREAM OF DISTORTION INTERRUPTING, HEAVY, CRACKLING STATIC. WHEN SOUND RETURNS, HIS VOICE HAS PITCHED INTO CONFUSION AND ALARM. ] What? Y— can't, you don't have th—

[ A LOW THUMP AND THEN ANOTHER SHRILL, PIERCING SOUND, RISING HIGHER AND LOUDER UNTIL IT DISTORTS INTO BEATS OF STATIC. BARELY DISCERNABLE THROUGH IT IS THE SOUND OF SCRABBLING, BOOTS ON METAL, UNINTELLIGIBLE SHOUTS THAT BEGIN TO TURN TO SCREAMS. THERE'S A MUDDLED FUMBLE OF STATIC AND THEN THE DISTORTION BEGINS TO FADE, THE SOUNDS OF HARSH BREATHING AND RUNNING FOOTSTEPS FILTERING THROUGH. A FEMALE VOICE, MURMURING DESPERATELY: ]

Oh God, oh— please, I don't— [ A SCUFFLE AND THEN A LOUD, CRACKLING THUMP. ]
there's a saying from my world that explains the way of the universe
it begins with 'all of this has happened before'

i can't find the source
and the interference you hear is audio corruption
but human suffering has a distinct resonance

is it too late?
 
 
 
17 July 2014 @ 12:18 pm
Hey everyone.

I'm sure some sort of demographics survey has been done in the past but I haven't seen one since I've been here and I'm curious. I've tried to keep it pretty basic. I know people are touchy about their privacy, and I know some aren't cool with being asked about special abilities/skills/powers/whatever, so obviously skip questions if you want to, no hard feelings. I'd rather just get name/age/planet than nothing at all, you know? Not like I'm going to hunt you down and force you to fill it out. But if you're willing to be more complete that'd be awesome and if there's something you think is important that I didn't include a field for, let me know.

Maybe there's a pattern here somewhere, maybe there's not, but at the very least it might be interesting or provide some useful data for department recruitment or something. Maybe you'll find some friends, whatever.

Thanks!



UPDATE: On request from several of our fellow passengers, I'm adding a 'relationship status' field. You're all welcome. Feel free to edit/update your entries accordingly if you want to.

(ooc: feel free to treat this as threadjack city as far as I'm concerned. if you squint it's kind of almost like an ic cr meme?)
 
 
10 July 2014 @ 04:43 am
And we're back. To those of you who are new, welcome to the Tranquility. For the rest of you, you know why I'm speaking to you now. It's been another month, and those of us who ventured into the hallways last month--whether we made the choice ourselves or had it made for us, here we are. This is our home now, we chose it.

On the topic of Shepard's last message, I know many of you are divided. Let me better frame it for all of you, in the hope it helps you to understand why my stance on it is so hard line. Shepard was punished for trying to pick apart the ship's secrets, held until there was no hope of her getting out. She and her team sent out messages deliberately intended to snare us into the trap - in places they didn't even know what they were saying - to get us to go in there. We resisted. We fought our way back when it threw everything it could at us to get us to stay. Now they apparently want us to go back in. Well it's not gonna happen, and I strongly advise you not to try, even if it's true that I can't personally stop you. Why am I so convinced? Because of something Shepard said.

[ A clip from the message plays, Shepard's voice: ] Formally suggest volunteer only operation. Something is different. Something’s in my head.

Ultimately it's your decision, but don't say I didn't warn you. And believe me, I know what you saw. I saw it too. I saw what I want most in the world, but here I am, and this is where I'm staying.

Javik and Shepard, as usual with those who go missing as well as those lost during the jumps, have been added to the mourning wall in the garden chapel. These were good people, their actions were the actions of heroes, not fools; but most of all, they were friends. I've got a mean streak in me, so here's the deal: you got a bad word to say about them, keep it the hell to yourself. That's my last word on the matter.

[ Nathan is pure Tranquility by now. Gone is the suit jacket and tie, last seen long months ago. He wears clothes bartered for at their last stop, a three quarter length brown leather coat and functional, hard wearing clothes underneath, space age fabrics in dark forest green and darker brown. He's still the same man, but he's adapted. And he's only half done with his talk, his expression still serious. ]

Alright; Tranquility business.

There's gonna have to be a few changes if we're gonna keep living here. Don't mistake me--the ship's gonna step up whatever it's got in store for us, and we can't keep losing unity the way we are. This is jump thirty three, that means thirty three floors; more floors than we have security. Those of you who are new will discover that fresh food from the gardens is only being distributed on floors marked 1 and 6; alternative food is still available in the kitchens on other floors. So agriculture is terrible, the security situation is equally troubling, and then medical most of all; the latter is presently, by way of seniority and...well, other things, in the hands of my brother Peter--you'll find him an apt leader, but he's no surgeon, so good luck if you get appendicitis.

What I'm getting at is a crucial need for people to join departments. Now we've been working on a volunteer basis this far and it's worked fine, but if we don't get people growing food and cleaning up medbay after the jump, fixing shuttles, protecting the halls and maintaining our communications network, survival here is gonna get more and more unpleasant. You like your conversations getting to the right people, don't you? Well so do I. How about them apples? And getting off the ship, despite being a damn deathtrap near every time we do it, that's real great when the oxygen isn't whistling out of the shuttle you're in right? Yeah, I think so too.

If more people don't sign up, we may have to start rationing luxuries...at worst people might start dying, and there'll be no escape route if the ship is gonna blow. I don't want any of that to happen and neither should you.

[ At last it seems like he's close to wrapping up. ]

Last month's losses shouldn't change how we continue to approach survival here, and believe me when I tell you that your first battle is to survive. To do that, we all need to pull ourselves together and keep doing what we usually do, irregardless of our personal feelings. Fight club, space training, weekly dinners, and above all work--routine is how you stay sane; take it from someone who's been here for a while And remember if you decide to get wasted on space alcohol nightly that when your liver fails nobody around here can do a damn thing about it.

But most of all we can get through this if you're all there for each other; we're stronger together. We'll survive together.

Petrelli out.
 
 
21 June 2014 @ 08:10 pm
You're not alone. People you care about are calling for your help, and you want to go help them. I'm going to ask you to be a little more patient before you run off into the dark. We know they're lost, we know there's something pursuing them, we know they need help. But we also know that the most recent post on the network, the one talking about warnings from the captain - a captain we don't have - wasn't made by one of us. That means this problem is bigger than you think; it's bigger than all of us, and it's important we get a clear image of what we're facing before we leave. Shepard's team has gone missing, and other comms have started going off the radar too--we'll start where they disappeared, and if we do this together, we might even succeed. The last thing we need is more of you lost out there because you chose to do this on your own.

Right now I need your help in a different, but just as important way. If you've received a message from someone, we need to hear them. That way we can establish a thorough list of who's missing, and try and piece together what they were all trying to say.

Tyke, as Head of Security, is going to coordinate the rescue. I imagine she'll speak to you shortly herself. Rest assured we'll need bodies on the ground for this one, and I know there's going to be no telling some of you to stay put, so forgive me if I - at least - save myself the effort of trying. The corridors are dangerous: bring weapons, ammunition, your communicator, but don't worry too much about rations--you won't need them.

[ He seems about to sign off, but he has to address that post, the grinding static and the screams underneath it, all of it so familiar to him by now. ]

...

"They're getting closer." I don't know about you, but that doesn't sound like a coincidence. Whatever we find out there, whatever is after our people, try not to kill it unless you have to. Don't get killed, but bear in mind the risk that we may be deceived into murdering people who would be our allies. I can't shake the feeling that we're being set up. Alright. Hang in there, everyone.
 
 
28 February 2013 @ 08:22 pm
Been here almost three months now, and I keep coming back to the same conclusion. Almost none you get it. And by almost, I don't mean some, I mean one, and maybe that's even pushing it.

[ As much as he considered taking the opportunity to full on shout at his comm device in video, Peter still can't find it within himself to splash his face on the network. Especially not right now, when he's busy splitting from any idea of reality. It doesn't really help matters that he's aware this he's bound to be in disagreement with... oh, maybe everyone? You don't exactly get to tell people they don't exist and expect them to like you.

Now, it's time for a reality check. For everyone else, mind, not him.
]

This isn't real. It's never going to be real. I don't even know how many of you are real, but nobody really likes hearing that they might not exist so we'll just stick with the basics.

[ Does it sound like he's being condescending? That's because he is. And he doesn't actually care all that much anymore about potentially hurting someone's feelings. ]

I don't care if you've got reasons, I don't care if you've got explanations. Everyone comes up with some way to convince themselves that what they're stuck in is actually reality. Give someone too much time and something they can't pick apart and eventually they'll tell themselves whatever they have to, just to make it all make sense.

But it doesn't. It's not going to.

And before you even ask, no, I don't think it's a nightmare or a dream. Or even a hallucination. So no, I don't need to get shipped off to the psych department to get my head fixed. [ He's particularly growly about that one. ] It's a construct. It's supposed to look real, and unless you've been in one, I wouldn't expect you to know the difference. Looks real, feels real, it's supposed to make you think it's real.

And fuck, if this one's working just a little too damn well.

You won't believe me, i've already got that down. Nathan's got some of you wrapped around his finger, I already know that much, and I already know what he thinks about all this. But I know a different Nathan, and I know one that'd do things to your brain that you wouldn't believe. Doesn't get any better after that. You don't get fixed.

You get his public service announcements and now you're getting mine.

I don't think this bullshit is real, and I don't think that's going to change anytime soon.
 
 
09 February 2013 @ 12:34 am
[The feed begins with a little stumble, English accent mixed with something else. A bit southern European, to those paying close attention.]

Hi. Uhm - [ahem.] Hey. I know there's no way out or anything, I'm not - I don't want to ask about going back home, but - is there - [stop. Breathe, Andy. Try again.] Is there a way of knowing if your loved ones are all right? If they'll be all right? It's just that I don't... want them to worry. Don't want her to worry.

[Anyway.]

Sorry, I have no idea if this has been asked before. I-I can't really work with this thing yet.

Things... things are happening back home, and I just wanted -

[Gaah. Another breath.]

Sorry. I appreciate any help.
 
 
06 February 2013 @ 03:10 pm
This is supposed to be a colony ship, right?

[ Judging by the video, John is sitting on his bed, the camera focused on the empty bed across the room. ]

So not only were there crew members living on board, but there were civilians, too. Couples, families looking for a new life. And all of them are gone now.

[ There's a slight shift, a creak from his bed. ]

When someone disappears from here, their stuff is usually left behind. So... what happened to the stuff from those people? Did they take it with, or did something happen to it?

[ The comm is flipped suddenly, facing up at John from his lap. He's frowning, not really looking at the device. ]

I guess that's another question we may not ever get an answer to.
 
 
06 February 2013 @ 11:21 pm
Back home, I told someone that we're all going to Hell and that we might as well enjoy the ride. It made me think about a few things.

[There's the sound of a drink being poured. God only knew how many she had already but her words are a little slurred.]

Anyone who thinks that being here will end up with anything good in the end is deluded. People have died, others gone missing in the depths of this hellhole and came out a few pennies short of a pound afterwards.

[A pause follows while she sips from her glass.]

You'll either die on board or go crazy. There's nothing in-between.

Make the most of the time you have here. Get pissed, have sex, get high if you're into that sort of thing. Gorge yourself stupid. Whatever gets your rocks off.

More importantly? Enjoy it.

[The feed ends there.]
 
 
01 February 2013 @ 03:52 am
I happen to be a very private man. It tends to happen when you're brought up in the public eye. My parents-- [ He pauses. ] They were wonderful people, but their deaths caught the imagination of the world, and I grew up under that shadow.

You can imagine how difficult it must be for me to speak to you now. It isn't a subject I enjoy visiting, but it's come to my attention that I've been coming off as... Well, as aloof. It's not my intention. You're all so close, helping each other out when times are hard. It's a long way from what I'm used to. It's difficult to know how to--how to join in, when you've never really done it before.

I'm afraid I really don't have any applicable skills. I'm not a doctor, I know a little about science, I'm afraid to say I wouldn't be much use in a fight, but if there's anyone on board who wouldn't mind showing a closeted ex-billionaire the ropes, I'm willing to try to learn. I'll take anything.

It's Bruce Wayne, by the way.

[ A wary smile, and then the feed clicks off. ]

 
 
30 January 2013 @ 09:26 am
[The Elvenking doesn't really like the tiny typey thingy. Font lacks the character of the person communicating in a way both handwriting and speaking do not. But in this case, that's what makes him feel safer. Even though the text is not anonymous, he feels like there are a few layers between him and the emotional implications surrounding this question.]

What is it like to forget?

[There is no chance of him explaining to anyone why this question is so important, but he'd like a frame of reference right now. It's not that elves have eidetic memory, exactly, but forgetting half a song is different from forgetting the place you grew up in. Just to state a random example.]