Voice post:

[windmemory]

Hello?

Hellooooo?

[There's a thump thump thump, then:]

I heard voices in this thing! Hellooooo? Can anyone hear me?

This doesn't look like home at all....hellooooooooo?

They probably can't hear me anyway.

[ooc: All replies are voice, marked or not!]

Comments

[makeyourgraves]

We can hear you just fine.

So quit yelling. These boxes are too valuable a tool to waste on whining.

[windmemory]

Hey! I'm not whining!

voice;

[windmemory]

I don't know.

Can you tell me the way home?

voice;

[windmemory]

Deities? Like gods?

that's not how that works.

[laprunminta]

Hari has recently left Tsornin at the stables and set to walking about, only to come to the square and see a rather silly thing, or it seems silly at least. Treading quietly as ever though the soft crunch of snow betrays her approach, she pauses a few steps away, squinting a bit.

"You are only going to break it that way."

Not like she really knows what she's talking about, but there's every likelihood it will break if he hits it hard enough, right?

that's not how that works.

[windmemory]

Lan stops pounding the communicator on the ground and looks up. She's pretty; she looks like she's from White Harbor, with that hair, and Lan has never met anyone from White Harbor before.

"...well...I thought maybe it would let the people inside out."

Which is partially true. He also wants to see the construction inside, because something like this has to have one, right?

that's not how that works.

[laprunminta]

While Hari would never consider herself 'pretty'--she simply isn't dainty enough to fit the profile, too tall for one, but then, she doesn't mind being tall as it stands her well in the saddle--she would wryly appreciate not being thought of as homely, always a plus. Watching still, her brow raises, as if slightly amused as she crouches down next to Lan.

She must look odd, dressed in hill clothes of the thin but durable material best suited to the desert--not so much this wintry place that reminds her of Home, green in spring no doubt--and pants and robe no less, rather than a proper gown. Oh well. The blond girl has never really cared much for gowns as often as she has been obligated to wear them.

"They're not inside it," she informs him, because she's sure of that much, and she points at it, finger tapping the side. "It's just a way to communicate with people who are not nearby, like a radio."

Of course, there is every good chance Lan doesn't know what a radio is, but Hari doesn't know that. Yet.

that's not how that works.

[windmemory]

It's not like Lan's clothes are fashionably contemporary; trousers and a shirt and his heavy, ridiculous sleeveless overcoat. But he likes it because he can make it billow romantically and that makes girls swoon, and the sash that's tied behind him is fancy and enormous, and he has worn it long enough to make him feel comfortable in it.

He looks over at her and smiles. "That would be lovely to know, if I knew what a radio was." He doesn't mind expressing ignorance. "The voices inside say it connects me to everyone else."