The gruesome murders would be run of the mill, at least.
“I mean it’s not cheap metal plated with something else, or plastic pearls,” she replies. She tips them back into the bag. “They must have been wiped out if they left all this unclaimed.”
"I-- sure? Cheese," he says, not understanding the prompt but gladly obliging. Cameras obviously can't do this in his day and age, and he wonders what this will even look like.
But he understands the gesture. Wanting to remember a moment.
“We do,” she agrees, pocketing the communicator again. It’s nice to hear him laugh, too, and she has the fleeting thought that she lucked out here in a lot of ways. “A lifetime ago I used to take these all the time.”
"Yeah," she replies, and she smiles at him sidelong. "Used to keep thousands of pictures that way, just scroll through whenever I wanted. Not quite as personal as a journal, but it does the trick."
"No reason you can't," she replies. An idea comes to mind, and she pockets it for another day –– she's gonna have to see what she can finagle. "You'd probably have to work on your angles, though. No more..."
She gestures like she's holding the camera way too low.
"With all the damn tripods you gotta carry around, don't think you can even
make that angle in my day," he points out, grumbling a little. Okay, she
has a point.
“Most of it, people don’t need,” she replies. “But once you’ve had it once, you miss it anyway.”
God knows she got by for eons without much of it, and it’s strange to think that her entire adult life has been more like 1899 than the future the Jetsons promised her when she was a kid.
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“I mean it’s not cheap metal plated with something else, or plastic pearls,” she replies. She tips them back into the bag. “They must have been wiped out if they left all this unclaimed.”
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He straightens up, groaning when his back cracks. Getting old. "You did good."
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“Wasn’t that hard,” she remarks, though she smiles. Compliments! “Smugglers use caches too. Our maps are just a bit more... legible, I guess.”
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“Really? Huh,” she replies. “I mean, even when drawn —— buildings look a whole lot more specific than a tree.”
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“Sure.”
Tess fishes her communicator out of her pocket to do just that. And then she thinks of something, communicator still in hand.
“Hey. Take a picture with me.”
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"--sure. How d'you want to?"
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“Say cheese.”
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But he understands the gesture. Wanting to remember a moment.
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“It supposedly makes you look more natural.”
She turns the communicator so they can look at the resulting photo.
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"Don't we make a fine pair?"
He still can't stop being amazed at the technology behind all of this.
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"I can actually see why. Kinda nice, a memory like that."
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She gestures like she's holding the camera way too low.
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He genuinely doesn't sound like he's grasping her point.
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"...Oh. 's that look funny or somethin'?"
He maybe gets that. Maybe. But also, he's getting the job done!
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"With all the damn tripods you gotta carry around, don't think you can even make that angle in my day," he points out, grumbling a little. Okay, she has a point.
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"Not built for all this new-fangled technology, huh?"
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God knows she got by for eons without much of it, and it’s strange to think that her entire adult life has been more like 1899 than the future the Jetsons promised her when she was a kid.
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