Comm Post: First of Its Name [video/audio]

[onlyrescuesmaidens]

[Fiddles with the communicator strapped tightly to his right wrist and glares as the picture comes into focus. Doing anything that requires fine motor control with just his left hand is still difficult, and even fastening buttons takes time. Add completely unfamiliar technology into the mix, and he's lucky he can even turn it on. He's waited until he found the inn the... what was that little white dwarf-bear with the red puff-ball called again? Oh... Moogle... The inn that the moogle directed him to and arranged for a room before trying to turn it on.]

I must admit, it is almost refreshing to be told that I need to introduce myself, though talking to a box on my wrist seems to be an odd way of doing it. Some sort of sorcery perhaps?

[A pained expression spreads over his face. Tyrion would have been fascinated by this. HE would have had ideas. HE would have poked and prodded at the little box and muttered about old books and maesters and theories. But Tyrion isn't here.]

I am Jaime Lannister, son of... no, I suppose that doesn't matter here, if you don't know the Lannister name. Suffice to say, I am a knight and a warrior...

[He looks down at the stump where his right hand once was.]

Though there's less of me than there used to be.

I've been told there are others here from many worlds... if there are any here from mine, be it Westeros, or the Free Cities, or Essos, you know my name, and I offer you... if not my friendship, then my help in getting back to where we came from.

And Brienne, if you're here... wake up and find the Stark girl, and SEVEN HELLS, stop following me! Unless you can't wake up either. If that's the case, I might have a use for that sword arm of yours and that very fine sword I gave you. I seem to be unarmed. Most embarrassing for a knight of the kingsguard, wouldn't you say?

[He pokes warily at the communicator again, and it lets out a shrill screech before turning off. The pricklemane that's been following him since he agreed to let the moogle help him synthesize it, and is now laying at his feet, winces and hisses at him, but doesn't move away from him. Jaime rather wishes that it would just go away, but doesn't think it worth the trouble to drive it off.]

Comments

[lessabrasive]

Indeed. Consider this a means of permanently recording conversations, often with those a great distance away. It can save time calling for aid - or to share information.

[She can understand his caution, however.] It is possible to limit and protect your conversations with allies or older acquaintances, hiding them from public view, of course. But those that have not been can be reviewed at your leisure in time.

[ And trust her, you'll have lots of it, slow reader or otherwise.]

[onlyrescuesmaidens]

[You'll have to excuse Jaime. The implications of digital information storage networks are still dawning on him.]

It's like carrying an entire library on your wrist, isn't it?

[He is less enthusiastic than some people he knows might be, but he's grudgingly impressed. Books and paper and ink are expensive where he comes from.]