Music-Holic

Abra blinks at Hartley. “The roots of what?! I have no idea what you are talking about…”

He droops a bit. Yet another vital subject, that he does not know; however is he to survive in this era?

my All Chicken + One Clown Sheep island is nearly done

this blue elephant named Axel almost tried to move in but on principle I couldn’t allow it Trying to bait Hart into making an all-mouse island for The Aesthetic is a struggle when that music wolf exists

Abra nods, and then looks down at his cart of books again. “Perhaps this is asking too much… but do you have any suggestions for what I need to learn to become a hero in this era?”

“Of course, I shall stand well away from this section if you do so.”

“When you are created for the sole purpose of being used – and used up – as a tool, then you need to justify your existence.”

“Now that I am trying to prove that I am not the insane Abra Kadabra, I still must justify my existence in this era.” He adds a couple of more books to the cart, and glances over its contents.

“You really don’t. I mean you very probably did when you came from, I’m not going to dispute that, and while things are definitely shitty here and now, we’re not 100% to that point yet.

I’m placing a 1am order for this couch and nobody can stop me

“These books should help, thank you. I was provided with shelter and food, and they should suffice for at least two weeks of isolation. But there is nothing to do, in that time. It is… wasteful, to stay idle for so long; not when I must find a way to justify my continued existence.”

“Oh, I do have a name. Harry Gray.”

“I was assured that it was common, and not stand out.”

“Harry, gotcha. I’m Hartley, or Piper works too.

“It seems I have much to learn about this era. My knowledge is… specialized, and I know enough to know that many records will be destroyed in various wars and disasters.”

Abra does another head-tilt. “I can at least assure you that it will be over a thousand years before you have to worry about the groupmind’s manifestation. And probably more time than that.”

“I – perhaps when I have had time to settle myself, I could make those changes. Right now, the damage is still too new.”

“I figured it would have to be some time. I’ve got an ex-boyfriend from the 25th Century and he made no mention of psychic powers, so I knew I had at least that long.” 

“I suspect that the System wanted to see me suffer. Again, I do not know why? I was just told that I was guilty of treason and sentenced to deletion.”

“Humanity in general does not seem to have psychic ability. Yet.” Then Abra sighed, starting to lift his hand toward the mask before deliberately clutching onto the cart handle. “It took me some time to cultivate this atavistic trait; no one else I knew could grow facial hair. I… I had been told that individuality was not a crime here?”

“Well... no, not in quite the way you’re describing, no, but this is still Kansas, unless you’re down the street in Missouri, and either way some individuality is still considered a crime, but hey~ That’s what thinly veiled threats and paint bombs delivered via rats are for.

As for psychic abilities, I can tell you I’m going to give that a hard pass. I over hear enough as it is without also delving into another’s thoughts.” 

“Those who are deleted have their bodies disintegrated, and their identities are erased from the groupmind,” Abra explained solemnly. “You can’t remember their faces or designations… just a vague sense that there was someone who failed the System. And that unless you work much harder and are perfectly obedient? You will be next.”

“I have a holographic masking program already, but it is designed to fit directly over the skin. The facemasks interfere with it.” Abra nods. “In the upcoming months of isolation, I should be able to expand the nanite matrix and form a full-body costume. Probably with armor to alter my silhouette.”

His eyes went noticeably wide for that. “Oh... That is... That is definitely a lot. 

We don’t have that ... groupmind concept here, thank Whomever, but I don’t think the beat cops James was able to talk into letting you go into his care were... quite that high up in the ranks. 

The mask slid back over Abra’s face. “He used the point that he was an agent to prove he outranked those police. What else was I supposed to call him, besides his rank?”

He looked down. “I did not think I was ruining any lives, by showing off the ancient skills that I had learned. But I was sentenced to deletion, anyway.”

“Yeah... it’s rough out there sometimes. Going to be honest, not sure what you mean by deletion, but if it was the cops around here it was more than likely going to be Iron Heights, which if you haven’t experienced, I would not recommend.”

Abra drank some more as he listened to Hartley, finally finishing off the water and gently levitating the cup back to the counter. He set it down a couple of feet away from Hartley.

“So you are like the Flash, or the Agent James who intervened for me to protect me from the police. I see.” Yes, the reference to a cell flew right over his head.

He couldn’t help but snort. “Agent James. I am going to have to tell him you called him that. I’m honestly not sure if he’d hate it or love it, but I look forward to what face he makes regardless. 

if i’d planned this better, we couldda emerged from holdup with our 90s hair

You’re cutting your hair?