bakerstreet | (no subject)

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[meme] crack

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Answering Machine meme

☎ Post a comment with your character. This comment functions as their answering machine or voice mail. Include an IC message if you want.

☎ Other characters will reply to these comments to leave your character messages.

☎ Be creative, have characters leave messages when they're drunk/high/bored/being chased by a rabid T-rex, whatever.

☎ Your character can then call these people back and demand an explanation!

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It was that or the gun. At least I had a chance of reloading the gun.

You should have put a dart in the damned thing for emergencies. Then none of this would have happened.

[ fine. but you're not going to hear the end of it. ]

And let's not pretend you didn't pick the tackiest Rolex to put it in, either.

That happens to be a classic design—!! [ okay, no, he is not going to get uppity about this. (also, he did sort of choose that design as a bit of a prank, eheheheh.) he's not even going to address the hidden dart thing. bond, please get with the times. ]

Did you at least have the courtesy to pick up whatever pieces were left? We might be able to extract some useful information from it.

Hideous. I think I prefer it literally smacking people in the face as opposed to figuratively.

[ 'Happens to be a classic design', 'Get with the times'. One of these things is not like the other, you pencil-licking prat. ]

Did I go into the street and pick up the splinters?

...

No, Q, I did not. Why don't you pop over with a hoover? Perhaps you can get enough pieces to put the thing back together. Because apparently making another one is beyond your abilities.

[ Oh, he knows you're just being a brat and mad about him breaking your toys, Q. He sort of did it on purpose, aching for the excuse after getting the lofty command to try not to. He's absolutely just saying it this way, like it's beyond your means, to get you fluffed. ]

[ oh, don't think he doesn't know you don't do this on purpose, bond. you're careless, but you (hopefully) aren't inept. so he knows you do this just to get his goat, which makes it all the more frustrating because he's trying to do this job here, you womanizing walking natural disaster. ]

Making another is quite different from extracting information collected by the original, 007. I should think you were capable enough to at least know how to turn the device on.

You've hardly any information to extract, Q. The point of the watch was to put it on someone else's wrist and it's been in my pocket.

I'm trying to figure out how I'm to get a tracking watch on someone's wrist without a tracking watch. Once I've got one, I'll worry about how to turn it on then. Really not very practical, are you? Did you try to tie your shoes whilst running as a child?

Edited 2012-11-22 05:51 (UTC)

It's— [ omg bond you make him want to take a pen to his eye. ]

Weren't you listening to me at all during the briefing? The watch needn't have been on the person you intended to track, you dolt! The very beauty of the gadget's technology is touch. A single brush of the target's skin against its glass face and that's it — that's all you needed.

[ He's doing it right, then. ]

To be honest, I think there's a certain pitch you have talking through your nose that really puts me off.

It doesn't matter how it works: It's. Broken.

Well, 007, that sounds like a personal problem that you might want to get fixed as soon as possible. I'm not quite sure how they'd done it during your glory days, but these days it's actually advised you pay attention to your quartermaster's briefing, as it tends to often mean the difference between using a device as its intended and cocking it up and having the damned pen blow up in your face as you try and sign for a check.

As delightful as I find these little chats of ours, Q, I do have things to be getting on with today, so let's just get down to brass tacks: either you give me a new one, or I call Mallory and he tells you to give me a new one. I do wonder what he'll think of a Q-Branch device that can track someone's skin through satellite, but can't send off a bloody text message about where the skin goes.

It may be my responsibility to get the target to touch the thing, but I'll bet it's not my job to sort that data out.

If I've got to go to Mallory about this, I think I'll take a trip with the target into town for a drink and see how many of the urchins and pick-pockets there might like to try getting at it.

Now, were I you, I'd take my hand out of my pants right about now and think a moment before I answered. I wasn't trying to make your job difficult before.

Edited 2012-11-22 19:21 (UTC)

[ a light scoff from q's end of the phonecall. ]

Going to run and tell daddy on me? I didn't think I'd have to remind you that I never refused to make you a new one, as it's quite within my capabilities of doing so, but it is due protocol to at least question the current status of the old one, as its purpose was simply to locate and track — its only intended purpose, mind, because one would think a device already settled on a field agent's person wouldn't have to have the additional program of sending such information back to headquarters.

But go on then, you're clearly quite busy. You'll have a new watch outfitted to you by twilight tonight, complete with an algorithm that'll send any information it gathers directly into my laptop.

Good day, then, 007. Try not to work too hard.

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