[There's a vaguely musical quality to his assent, and he had wondered the same thing. These places seemed to capture their bodies, most absolutely. The first time... no. As someone used to traversal as aether within Eithery's lifestream, he had known that the first time he had visited the Singularity, his body must have stayed behind.
But not now. This is his body, he's most certain. And he's certain that if harm were to come to it here, it would be troublesome. But.]
Yes, I am. Though I suspect the term relative. For after all, what is human in one universe would be inhuman in another, would it not? Linked only by loose traits. Two arms, two legs. One head, or perhaps there are stars where two of each is the norm? Evolutionary factors certainly change what would be normal.
[He then leans, elegantly, over a desk to concentrate on a little to-do board. He seems to be examining a series of post-it notes. Details, mostly. Hurried scribbles of meetings to come on dates that would never arrive in this moment- overdue proposals, conference calls. A picture of a child. Another memo, aggressively written on the desk, stated bluntly that personal effects such as said photo were prohibited.]
Instead, I would posit that what it means to be human is an impulse to make one's surroundings better for those to come. That is... what I believe, anyway. I may very well be hopelessly wrong!
[He then straightens himself, his head tilting somewhat- a single arm raising to gesture to... everything around them. The desks. The cubicles. The memos, the notes, the workstations, the overwhelming, stifling grey of the areas not intended for public viewing. ]
The level of detail applied to this phantom moment is quite remarkable. You knew it well, I think. And those here, in this time, certainly worked hard to create change. I wonder...
no subject
[There's a vaguely musical quality to his assent, and he had wondered the same thing. These places seemed to capture their bodies, most absolutely. The first time... no. As someone used to traversal as aether within Eithery's lifestream, he had known that the first time he had visited the Singularity, his body must have stayed behind.
But not now.
This is his body, he's most certain. And he's certain that if harm were to come to it here, it would be troublesome. But.]
Yes, I am. Though I suspect the term relative. For after all, what is human in one universe would be inhuman in another, would it not? Linked only by loose traits. Two arms, two legs. One head, or perhaps there are stars where two of each is the norm? Evolutionary factors certainly change what would be normal.
[He then leans, elegantly, over a desk to concentrate on a little to-do board. He seems to be examining a series of post-it notes. Details, mostly. Hurried scribbles of meetings to come on dates that would never arrive in this moment- overdue proposals, conference calls. A picture of a child. Another memo, aggressively written on the desk, stated bluntly that personal effects such as said photo were prohibited.]
Instead, I would posit that what it means to be human is an impulse to make one's surroundings better for those to come. That is... what I believe, anyway. I may very well be hopelessly wrong!
[He then straightens himself, his head tilting somewhat- a single arm raising to gesture to... everything around them. The desks. The cubicles. The memos, the notes, the workstations, the overwhelming, stifling grey of the areas not intended for public viewing. ]
The level of detail applied to this phantom moment is quite remarkable. You knew it well, I think. And those here, in this time, certainly worked hard to create change. I wonder...
Did they believe it was for the better?