♔【.x// to the world ;; DISCONNECTED 】 Char. Sketch

【.x// Character sketch: of a USB】

Attributes:
- cold
- flexible
- small
- sleek
- clever
- photographic (amnesiac prone) memory
- calculating
- dark
- artificial
- lacks lasting bonds with others
- social climber
- technologically adept
- quiet
- manipulative
- Courier/transporter
- Often loses its way   

{ / 011010110010..._/// 7.2mb/16GB }

    For the sake of the organization's policy to maintain mutual trust with its clients, I free myself of the constrictions of my biker's helmet. It had been agreed upon that no faces were to be concealed during pick-up. It's supposed to ease the customer into believing that the deliveries cannot be infiltrated, since all the transporters of the company were all of the same model; sharing identical features.

    Well, the only exception being me. Apparently, some sort of malfunction occurred during my creation. We all share the same face, but I lost all the artificial pigments from my hair and eyes. I can actually think for myself, as I have a unique learning ability and thus I need not be programmed to do my job. According to one of the engineers, I may not actually have human emotions, but can act as if I do. So I suppose I'm less machine, and more human.

    As for who was responsible, people suspect--no, they know it's the head engineer who checked in from central. I'm quite displeased with the fact that I was merely something to satisfy his scientific curiosity. He may be a genius, but I don't understand why he was hired when he's only present ten percent of the time.

    It gets rather annoying when anyone who knew the Original would break down in tears whenever they saw me, claiming his soul lived on through me or some other ludicrous notion. Their cries ring familiar in my ears: “Oh, I'd recognize that angelic air about you a mile away... You’re still as short as everrr! I knew you were alive, I just knew! We missed you so muccchh!!” Seriously, stop nuzzling your chin on top of my head, and my height is average!! So I'm doing everything in my power to be transferred to the Central branch; the pay will be higher and hopefully there I’ll be surrounded by less... Eccentric co-workers.

    Tossing the bothersome white strands out of my face, I take a deep breath and exhale as if I had been deprived of air.

     Ah, finally. I can breathe.

    I always feel like I'm about to suffocate in this city. Especially underneath that helmet. Bitterness builds on my tongue.  Leaving my bike behind, I threw the briefcases in one hand behind my back for support, the other carrying my prison as I climbed up the concrete stairs on the pathway leading to the mansion.  At the cherrywood door I drop the cases by my feet, reaching into my pocket for a bottle. Tossing a few droplets into my eyes, I ring the door bell that in turn chimes hauntingly. The door opens soundlessly as if it were frequently greased, giving sign as I quickly toss my hair down to shade my eyes. 

    "Good evening," the man greets me with a customary gentleman's smile. "You must be the courier. I assume you are aware that you are an hour and forty-two minutes late?"

    The silence and hesitation to speak at first is crucial. I'm without an excuse as I can't exactly admit to my lack of direction. I may remember any and all directions, but none of that can make sense to me at all which is east and which is west. As if I were about to explain myself, I open my mouth to speak... Then I bite my lip, but only slightly.  "Y-Yes, Mister. I sincerely apologize for my tardiness and unprofessionalism," I sputter as I bow apologetically. As I look up, I carefully reveal my watery eyes. Satisfied with his baffled expression, I continue. "I... I..."  I pretend to finally realize I'm crying, and turn away to discretely wipe them off. He attempts to comfort me as I hint to him how I was upset that I almost ran over a squirrel, how I tried to take him to the vet. ...Hey, don't judge me. The man doesn't even know that I've easily taken down armed mafia men, or of any other shady dealings I've been involved with.  And obviously, he didn't know that most couriers didn't actually have emotions.

    "Ahh, you remind me of my grandchild," the man laughed joyously in a manner resembling the great Saint Nicholas. "Wait here as I inform the Master of your arrival, yes?"

    I immediately dropped the tiresome facade as soon as he turned his back. Quickly, I text to the branch's head informant: << The package has arrived at its destination. The Head got caught in traffic and arrived late. >> 

    Moments later, I recieve a reply. Really, isn't he busy? Or was he pushing all his work onto that poor assistant of his again? << Haha~ Don't you mean /you/ lost your way? By the way, 12 down is 8 letters: "imitation heart disease", any ideas? >>

    I stifle a laugh. Wasting time on terribly written crossword puzzles again, I see. I've barely known this man for half a year but he's easily the only constant "friend" I've had in this business--yet I'm still fine with leaving him behind. Even now, people continue to drift in and out of my life.

    << You know me too well. OTL ...Is that last week's crossword? Then it's "lovesick". And I know you're going to ask, so 22 across is "tychopheral acid", and 46 down is "misunderstandment".>> Tapping the keys in a swift succession, typing everything took less than twenty seconds.  The glowing screen of my PDA faded into a pocket of my leather jacket. It wasn't too long until I heard footsteps approaching that I reassumed my facade.

    "Brother, brother! Look! Pretty!" beams a child peeking out of the doorway. An Asian man arrives at the door moments later. He seems to have a permanent frown on his face, which, adding to his height which made him quite intimidating. His initial response at seeing me is shock and bewilderment, as if he was looking at a ghost.  Silence settled the air. Until he flicked me on the forehead. I feel no pain and all, but really. What was with this rude man? I can practically feel the the wires in my head vibrate as if they were twitching like veins.

    "Sir, if I may ask: What the bloody hell was that for?" Wait--did I just use British slang? Strange. It feels familiar on my tongue.

    "Bean sprout? Is that yo--"  I kick him in the shin. No one. No one makes fun of my height, or lack thereof. For the last time, I'm of average height. He doesn't fall over clenching his knee as my ego would have wanted, but he does clench his teeth in pain while swearing colourful profanities.

    "Sorry, sir, but that is how I react to harassment."

    Other man suddenly appears from the door, and assumes the "deer in headlights" expression momentarily before charging straight at me with his arms held high. "Oh my god, is that--!! Beany, I've missed you so muuuch!!" I side-step him and he topples over the stairs onto the concrete. Nobody seems to care about his well-being, though.

    "Yep, it's definitely the copy he left behind. Bastard didn't have to increase the kid's strength, though."

    Let's just get this over with. I'm not fond of dealing with people who knew my Original.

    I reached out to him, holding the briefcases to him...

    Then everything in my mind pounded violently in storms--I see nothing but black and then my conciousness shuts down.

    Spatial awa...ren..ess.... Blan...k...

{ / 101101010110..._/// SOULs /transcending time }

[ SYSTEM REBOOT ]  10.8GB/16GB

    I recall breaking our promise. He always told me he hated people who broke their promises.

    I remember black ashes. I remember the cries of fallen comrades. Only the three others survived.

    I want to cry so badly, because they're gone. I'm supposed to be gone. My real body's gone, but I'm here again. I'm curled into his arms on the rooftop, and the the scowl he usually wears dissappears when my eyelids ceased my blindness. His arms confined me in an embrace.

    "Ultimately, I did keep our promise."

    He head-butts me. My mind shakes, but not much else. I laugh lightly, a bit darkly. He's here. So many have left, but he's here.

    "I'm home."

{ / 10010100101..._///  to the world I connect }

    I suppose I'll be once again separated from the few I've connected with in this crowded yet lonely city. My loved ones are leaving, and I've decided to follow. I finally found my room to breathe, and we'll live for those who've passed.

    I've found someone who will always keep me at his side... This time I'll have something to hang on to. 

OMAKExx (Bonus)


    The window to the roof bangs repeatedly before a "smash" was heard and pieces of broken glass flew from the window, along with a hammer.

    "Stop hogging beany all to yourself, man!! I missed the kid too!" The red-head proceeded to climb through the window.

    The man embracing me sighed, "Dude, I thought this was your grandfather's place?"

    "Uhh... Dude. I like, totally lied. It's yours. I bought it, but made payments with your credit card. Sooo... Congrats, you now own three mansions?" Oh god. What have you done, you idiotic man? I missed him too, but now he went and put himself in a suicidal position. I can't help laughing at his familiar antics, though.

    While still holding me in a death-lock, he literally threw the satellite at the intruder. That was to be expected.

---

    "I can't believe you're not crying right now."

    "I can't, you imbecile!" Rgh, I'm going to make him HURT.

    "So? Didn't you fake it earlier? You conned my servant into thinking you were this "little angel", as he put it." He pulled out a small bottle he'd probably pocketed from me. "Really, I though you had more class than resorting to using menthol. You faker."

    I'm so sorry that I have no tear ducts anymore. I'm so sorry for circumstances beyond my control. What about you, hmm? So-called billionaire who's perfect and orderly in front of the camera and a total profane jerk otherw--

    "A liar, a cheat, sly... I understand the "little" part, but really, "angel"?"

    Uhm, hello? I'm the narrator here. You can't just cut into my inner monologue like that.

    "It's starting to rain."

    "Hmm? No, it isn't."

    "Yeah it is, so let's go."

    I veened my eyes at the sky, and I see not even a single droplet of precipitation. Then I realized my shoulder was wet, and that he must have been in tears. The one who's stubborn to the point of extremity, the one who always uses this snarky, cool, bad-ass attitude... Cried.

    Though it made me smile, I never let him live that one down.

 

*[ 'OTL' or 'otz' is a written emoticon of a pose people make in response to complete and utter failure. It's a view of a person from the side, where they fall over in agony. O being the head, T being the shoulders, back, and arms, and L or Z being the curled knees.]
**[ 'Misunderstandment': Bush. Yes, him. That is all. I can't decide if it's worse than his "coined" term 'hispanically'. ]

A/N: :/ ERGH. I KNOW. I know it's super-super long but I tried my best to shorten iiiit. It's 11:23PM, and I have 3850952 other assignments to work on, like, 80 journal pages to fill, a psychology project to analize, an English essay outline to fill, graphic arts assignments to bleed over, and my wrist to slit. D< (Okay, the last one was a joke, but it's suicidal already, the result of my procrastination.) OTL Derp. SOMEBODY HELP MEEEE.

Images not mine. 1st from oekaki, and the latter from photobucket, google, etc.