Post by Perceptor on Feb 29, 2012 21:09:25 GMT -5
Month 6, Week 2, Day 4
As she stepped through from the elevator - the one hidden behind the bookcase in her living room - the lights came up automatically in the lab, illuminating an incredibly well equipped facility. Exactly as she had expected, as she had remembered would be there, despite being quite certain that she'd never laid eyes - eyes, not optics! - upon the underground laboratory before this moment.
Her whole mind was filled with such "memories", events, such as teaching at the university, cooking in her nearly-as-well-equipped kitchen, developing gene therapies for various human ailments, that she recollected doing, despite not having been human mere days ago. It's all very curious, and just a little perplexing. Perplexing enough to have taken these past three days to really sort out as she continued through her "normal routine" of teaching at the university, interspersing grading papers with sorting her memories one from another.
Perhaps one of the other Autobots would be able to shed some light upon the situation, which is why she has now come to her "secret lab" under her home, to use the radio array that she now "remembers" will be down here. And, as she expects, there it is.
Following the chain of command that she remembers with the same clarity that she remembers her human life, Persephone attempts to contact Botanica, first, tuning the transmitter to the plant-former's frequency. It remains distressingly silent.
Next, she tunes it to Rodimus Prime's frequency. It, too, remains frighteningly silent. She finds herself wondering if it might be possible that all of the Autobots have been affected as she has, and, if so, how she could even begin to attempt to track them down.
She also finds herself wondering if she might not be suffering from some psychotic break with reality, and is, in fact, wholly human, and always has been, with sudden manufactured "memories" of having been one of these new alien robots who had arrived on Earth recently.
Her doubts only intensify when Xaaron's line goes unanswered, as well.
She finds herself reticent to attempt to radio Drift directly, afraid to be disappointed, or have her doubts confirmed yet another level. Instead, she opts to try the Event Horizon's primary communications line. Perhaps her memories are real, and there might be someone left there to answer? She hopes?
// Event Horizon, have you received this transmission? // Should anyone actually hear this, the voice sounds rather familiar. Only... different. Less electronic, for one thing, and more feminine for another. Assuming one understands the difference.
As she stepped through from the elevator - the one hidden behind the bookcase in her living room - the lights came up automatically in the lab, illuminating an incredibly well equipped facility. Exactly as she had expected, as she had remembered would be there, despite being quite certain that she'd never laid eyes - eyes, not optics! - upon the underground laboratory before this moment.
Her whole mind was filled with such "memories", events, such as teaching at the university, cooking in her nearly-as-well-equipped kitchen, developing gene therapies for various human ailments, that she recollected doing, despite not having been human mere days ago. It's all very curious, and just a little perplexing. Perplexing enough to have taken these past three days to really sort out as she continued through her "normal routine" of teaching at the university, interspersing grading papers with sorting her memories one from another.
Perhaps one of the other Autobots would be able to shed some light upon the situation, which is why she has now come to her "secret lab" under her home, to use the radio array that she now "remembers" will be down here. And, as she expects, there it is.
Following the chain of command that she remembers with the same clarity that she remembers her human life, Persephone attempts to contact Botanica, first, tuning the transmitter to the plant-former's frequency. It remains distressingly silent.
Next, she tunes it to Rodimus Prime's frequency. It, too, remains frighteningly silent. She finds herself wondering if it might be possible that all of the Autobots have been affected as she has, and, if so, how she could even begin to attempt to track them down.
She also finds herself wondering if she might not be suffering from some psychotic break with reality, and is, in fact, wholly human, and always has been, with sudden manufactured "memories" of having been one of these new alien robots who had arrived on Earth recently.
Her doubts only intensify when Xaaron's line goes unanswered, as well.
She finds herself reticent to attempt to radio Drift directly, afraid to be disappointed, or have her doubts confirmed yet another level. Instead, she opts to try the Event Horizon's primary communications line. Perhaps her memories are real, and there might be someone left there to answer? She hopes?
// Event Horizon, have you received this transmission? // Should anyone actually hear this, the voice sounds rather familiar. Only... different. Less electronic, for one thing, and more feminine for another. Assuming one understands the difference.