gen textin'

[youandmeme]

a general sort of texting meme

maybe you hate calling people on the phone. maybe you hate talking face to face. maybe you love both of those things but texting is more convenient, or the only option, right now. who knows, I'm not the texting police.

whatever the case, it's time to send some texts. feel free to include initial texts or preferences in your top levels, but it's not required.

Comments

i almost tagged him with fray but that'll be a future thread t b h

[quillandaxe]

[ The ink soaks into the page, and nothing happens for a moment. Then the ink begins to swirl again, the dark pigment forms new words, letter by painstaking letter. ]

ENTRY ACCEPTED

SEARCHING FOR AVAILABLE USERS ... ... ...

USER "MOON" FOUND. INITIATING AETHERIAL UPLINK.

[ The book shudders violently in Thancred's hands, then sharply flips to a fresh page. There's a sudden blotch of ink on the corner of the paper, as though something might have gotten spilled on it, but unlike the marks before, it doesn't go away. Then abruptly, a looping hasty scrawl entirely different from the blocky letters of before start to appear across the top of the page. Thancred might even recognize the handwriting ... but then again, it might have been many years since he last saw it. ]

Bloody hells, I didn't think it would actually work! Hello? Is someone there?

WE'LL GET THERE

[funbreaker]

[ "Aetherial uplink"? This all suddenly has an Allagan feeling to it, except for the fact that he's in the First and this tome isn't truly in the Allagan style. Say what you will about them, they had an aesthetic and they kept to it.

When the book shudders Thancred almost drops it, but instead there's some awkward juggling before it falls back into his hands, open to a new page.

Another message appears, this one quite different. As if someone is trying to speak to him. Who, and from where? The penmanship does feel strangely familiar, but he's not in a position to sort it out right now. While this continues to feel like an absolutely terrible idea, he lifts his quill to write back. ]

In a sense, yes, someone is here. We're communicating through a tome, it seems. Who are you? Where are you?

[quillandaxe]

[ The response races across the page at the speed of its sender's hand, quickened by enthusiasm. ]

Yes, it's rather fascinating, isn't it? It's such an impractical form of communication, you can see why it didn't catch on! But I just couldn't resist giving it a try to see if the spell was still functional. And of course, I wasn't sure whether I'd even get a response.

[ A beat, then on a fresh line: ]

I'm a senior student of aetherology in the Sharlayan Studium. This tome was one of the artifacts we found when we were cleaning out a back room. Who are you?

[funbreaker]

[ It's not the response that Thancred is expecting, not that he'd quite known what to expect. Not this, clearly. He ends up finding a spot to settle down in the flower fields, quietly hoping that the pixies don't hex him for taking his time with their errand. This turn of events requires closer attention, and while he might be better off hurrying to Urianger's side to consult him on the matter, this is all too bizarre and specific to wait.

A student of aetherology. It narrows it down a bit, but Thancred still finds himself wary. He could choose this point to identify himself, but he would like to unearth a bit more information first. Call it his instincts as a rogue. ]

I'm a friend of Sharlayan, to be sure, though this tome found its way into my hands by way of coincidence. What is your name?

[ MOON, it had said. There's only one person he can think of with a name even close to that, and that's impossible. All the same, Thancred can't quite brush away the sense of dread that's started to crawl its way up his spine... ]

[quillandaxe]

[ There's a beat of hesitation before the response back, quick and cheery. ]

I'm afraid you'll have to give me a bit more before I tell you that! Wouldn't want to accidentally sign myself over to a Voidsent or anything, you understand, Alric. I doubt that's your real name either.

[funbreaker]

You have little to worry about when it comes to possession or anything of the sort, of that I can assure you.

[ Been there, done that, didn't even get a t-shirt for his trouble. He wouldn't wish it on anyone else. ]

It's not my real name, you're correct. I suppose both of us are being wary, though we likely don't have much reason to be.

I'm a Scion of the Seventh Dawn.

[quillandaxe]

We may not be much of a danger to each other, but I wouldn't rule out the possibility that something else might be listening in. Or should I say, reading this?

Unfortunately, that name doesn't mean much to me. Though your writing is familiar...

[funbreaker]

[ The thought that someone might be able to observe this conversation is a worrisome one, but Thancred also finds that there's little he can truly fear these days. After everything he's gone through in the First, what's another hellbent-on-world-destruction Ascian, really? ]

How about the Circle of Knowing? Does that mean anything to you?

[ Time moves differently between realms. If his hunch is correct, this goes beyond that, with time flowing backward and forward through this magical tome. A bizarre thought, but time machines apparently exist, so why couldn't this be a time-traveling book of some sort? ]

[quillandaxe]

[ The writing grows a bit sharper, a bit more excited. ]

It does. Should I assume the same is true for you, then?

[funbreaker]

Yes. We're called the Scions of the Seventh Dawn now. This tome doesn't have any consideration for the rigidness of time, it seems.

does sharlayan even have a lottery well it does now

[quillandaxe]

Color me surprised. That would be the first time something magical has done exactly as advertised.

So I'm speaking to someone in the future, then? Ooh, any chance you might remember the winning numbers for the next draw of the Sharlayan lottery? I could really use the windfall. Parchment doesn't come cheap, you know.

it does if we want it to

[funbreaker]

Can't say I kept a detailed log of all the winning numbers, I'm sorry to say.

We can play a different sort of game, though, if you'd like to take a stab at guessing who I am.

[quillandaxe]

What a shame. Well, I'm all for playing a game if you're suggesting one. What are the rules?

[funbreaker]

Leave it to a scholar to try and make things complicated.

No specific rules, really. You guess who I am, I tell you if you're right or wrong.

[quillandaxe]

Know a lot of scholars then, do you?

[ Yes, he can consider that her first question. ]

[funbreaker]

I do seem to spend a lot of time around them, yes. For better or worse.

[quillandaxe]

But you wouldn't consider yourself a scholar as well?

[funbreaker]

Not quite on the same level, though I have existed in the periphery of Sharlayan since I was young.

[quillandaxe]

And it hasn't made you swear off associating with Sharlayans entirely? You must have some of the scholar in yourself, no matter what you say.

To hear you tell it, you sound quite aged.

[funbreaker]

[ Ouch. ]

Certainly no chocobo chick, these days.

Though my bones are perhaps not quite as brittle as what you're picturing. My hair is silver, but it's always been, so there's your next clue.

[ Not that it really narrows it down. ]

[quillandaxe]

You've just described at least a full fifth of Sharlayan.

However, I can think of a question that might narrow it down quite a bit. You're a member of the Circle of Knowing yourself?

[funbreaker]

That's correct.

Still might not narrow it down completely, but I have faith you can puzzle it out.

[quillandaxe]

[ A few minutes of waiting, long enough that there doesn't seem to be a response forthcoming, and then scribbled with a swiftness that might betray the excitement on the other end: ]

I knew I recognized that handwriting. Let me see: your name starts with a T and ends with Waters, doesn't it?

[funbreaker]

Clever girl.

[ Well, this is surreal, isn't it? Thancred rises from his spot, realizing that he'll need to show this to Urianger sooner rather than later. ]

[quillandaxe]

You can't seriously mean to leave it at that, can you! I've just learned that I'm speaking to a friend in the future.