06-21-2017, 09:23 PM
(This post was last modified: 06-21-2017, 09:26 PM by Harlan Higgs.)
Hendy and Enel had been standing around, waiting in the spot that the item was supposed to drop in. Damn, he was missing his summoning abilities. There was nothing to do except stand around and wait, and Enel had chosen to pass the time by tapping on that tablet thing again, amusing himself by arguing with strangers on something called "The Dataverse."
The Ravnos's understanding of technology had kept rather current, a fact which he was proud of. He understood cell phones, and had used them many other times, but any other sort of communications technology had ended with his understanding of a strange and powerful device that could send messages nearly instantly across the phone lines. You just put in a document of whatever you wanted to send, and it would print out a copy on the receiver's side. It was called "the Fax Machine".
Computers, Vic had never bothered to understand. Why should he? He had had people for that. But now, without any resources here, he was cut off from a section of the competition that the other had been taking advantage of.
Damnit, he wanted a cigar.
Looking up into the sky, spotting the setting sun, he held out his left hand.
A small, microwave sized box drifted down out of the sky with it's own little parachute, and flumped into his outstretched palm.
"Got it, my Lord. Let's get a move on."
The Ravnos's understanding of technology had kept rather current, a fact which he was proud of. He understood cell phones, and had used them many other times, but any other sort of communications technology had ended with his understanding of a strange and powerful device that could send messages nearly instantly across the phone lines. You just put in a document of whatever you wanted to send, and it would print out a copy on the receiver's side. It was called "the Fax Machine".
Computers, Vic had never bothered to understand. Why should he? He had had people for that. But now, without any resources here, he was cut off from a section of the competition that the other had been taking advantage of.
Damnit, he wanted a cigar.
Looking up into the sky, spotting the setting sun, he held out his left hand.
A small, microwave sized box drifted down out of the sky with it's own little parachute, and flumped into his outstretched palm.
"Got it, my Lord. Let's get a move on."
Quote:Harlan and Enel claim the drop at A1.
“I don’t wanna be a product of my environment. I want my environment to be a product of me.”