The images Rren carried with them to this shared mindscape were not all easy to decipher. Oh, some were obvious. The art room where they had been working on art before contributed tables here and there, the better part of two dozen sheets of paper spread out on the table and floor both, containing colorful lines. And then there was the inside of a small spaceship, the galaxy visible through the transparent sections of bulkhead, odds and ends littering shelves, getting mixed in with the papers on the art tables.
But the final part? It was a space both real and imaginary. Those who'd entered the datascape wouldn't even recognize it, as this version had not been translated for organic minds and the other had. It was code, it was input from a ship full of systems and the buzz of the subspace net in the background. Form had no point in this place and those who stepped into it would not find ground underfoot, but they wouldn't fall either.
Rren's nature had much in common with this place, and sometimes they seemed to flit out of existence, trailing along as a string of light through the art room, or materializing to float in the middle of the computer. It was strange how much this felt like home, it wasn't something the could ever have expected. They enjoyed having a body, but the human pattern of thought and existence were both limiting. Would they go back? Absolutely not, in a very real sense this swirling mess of code had been a prison. They hadn't always been able to travel with their best friend. They hadn't even been able to truly leave the ship, merely cast projections of themself into other systems.
Strangely, they never visited their original body in this place, this dream? Oh, they saw it, sitting propped against a wall in a corner, damaged beyond repair, what it had been when they'd first been integrated into the computer.
They willed themself to materialize, though the remained translucent, glowing orange as they floated in the space outside the ship. How had this happened?
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Rren | Star Trek OC |OTA
Date: 11 Sep 2023 16:21 (UTC)But the final part? It was a space both real and imaginary. Those who'd entered the datascape wouldn't even recognize it, as this version had not been translated for organic minds and the other had. It was code, it was input from a ship full of systems and the buzz of the subspace net in the background. Form had no point in this place and those who stepped into it would not find ground underfoot, but they wouldn't fall either.
Rren's nature had much in common with this place, and sometimes they seemed to flit out of existence, trailing along as a string of light through the art room, or materializing to float in the middle of the computer. It was strange how much this felt like home, it wasn't something the could ever have expected. They enjoyed having a body, but the human pattern of thought and existence were both limiting. Would they go back? Absolutely not, in a very real sense this swirling mess of code had been a prison. They hadn't always been able to travel with their best friend. They hadn't even been able to truly leave the ship, merely cast projections of themself into other systems.
Strangely, they never visited their original body in this place, this dream? Oh, they saw it, sitting propped against a wall in a corner, damaged beyond repair, what it had been when they'd first been integrated into the computer.
They willed themself to materialize, though the remained translucent, glowing orange as they floated in the space outside the ship. How had this happened?
"Hello?"
"Anybody?"
Were they alone here?