e r r o r 4 0 4 ;

yas gamal. 34. programmer of the first time machine.

[yasxgamal]

ilkmoons​:

İlkay brushes his critique of her outfit aside, knowing that she was doing 2060 a favor by sponsoring the atrocious at no cost. It’s not like she hasn’t seen him in anything other than a dark-colored hoodie; she wasn’t sure if it was a single, staple piece or if he had ten of them crammed into a grimly-accessorized closet. “ I didn’t know you were so chivalrous, computer-man. Thank you, ” İlkay graciously accepts the jacket, slipping it over her shoulders and ignores the lint sprinkled across the sleeves. The monotonous hoodies she’d frown at before—because let’s be honest, a billowy top would look wondrous on the man—have ironically become her saving grace. “ Wouldn’t you say an uninvited woman catching a ride on your time machine, dressed or not, is bad as is? But now that I do think about it, a little show-of-skin would make things far more interesting. ”  She’s amused by her own suggestion, never knowing modesty to be her strong-suit.  

This day does not have an end and she’s been cursed by the potential scenarios she could return to once they get back, though the concept is still a hypothetical. It seems Yasin has provided her with more amusement than the rest of them could. His mellowness has freed him from his customary state of social awkwardness and it’s refreshing to see him loosened up; he was courageous enough to offer a lighter at her disposal, yet could not look at her for more than a handful of seconds during their brief hangouts. “ A club, hm ? I take it that’s not your scene. ” Feeding into the stereotype that most computer nerds are guaranteed hermits—or nerds—is a poor tactic to getting the man to open up, but old habits die hard and there’s a first for everything. She’s between being assured or astonished by her accurate assumption. Perhaps she should invest in a crystal ball when they get back home. “ Alright you party animal, let’s get you some water. I need you in a clear headspace when we get back, you owe me a smoke and more. Maybe a glimpse at this code of yours ? ” She hooks an arm around his, doesn’t recall seeing a water cooler in the foyer ( do they even exist in 2060? has plastic been replaced? ) but tap water can do the trick if their search fails. “ You didn’t write me in on purpose, did you ?Weren’t dying to see me again? ”  

If İlkay has asked, she would know that he has, in fact, a dozen of the same hoodies, yes. He likes black and dark greys, and when he finds a piece of clothing he thinks is comfortable, he buys a handful of the same thing so he can alternate through laundry cycles. His sister would gasp in horror if she knew that was the state of his closet, probably, but well. He's a simple man. "Chivalry is not dead after all, hm?" He comments off-handedly, and her next comment makes his nose wrinkle up in distaste. "No, don't even joke about it," he really doesn't want to think about the worst case scenario of having two naked women in their lab all of a sudden. Some idiot might've made a joke about how that's a best case scenario, but Yas is not that idiot. He's not about to even try to crack a joke. "Let's just hope it doesn't happen?"

"I'll have you know, that was my scene," he argues, at her -- honestly fair -- assessment of his anti-partying personality. Once upon a time, he was a young man in university who drank like he thought the answers were at the bottom of a bottle. Those were the years he almost behaved like a normal person -- socially, it was all downhill from there, for him. "I do know how to party," not that there's any reason he feels the need to express this to her, but still. 

When it came to owing her a smoke and more, he could wholeheartedly agree. "You better not be using 'code' as an innuendo for something weird," he comments, accepting the arm around his own and walking with her. He has the impression they probably shouldn't push the hotel's hospitality in asking for water, but maybe she has something else in mind. "I swear I didn't write you in," his voice is suddenly sober, and genuine. This can't be his fault, and yet-- it only feels like his fault. "I'm sorry. I don't... know what happened."

[yasxgamal]

perhaps-jin​:

Jin coughed to fill the silence, unsure of how to respond. So it seems that today’s earlier public stripping had only been the prelude to appearing undressed in front of a group of people that already didn’t respect her. Wonderful. If there was a silver lining, it was that she wasn’t alone in her humiliation– Yas seems just as uncomfortable with it. In fact he seemed… concerned? About her? Huh. Jin’s tension softens and she offers a smile that’s crooked but amiable. “I will,” Jin shines up, “Thanks, um, for looking out for me.” Her reply is more a peace offering than a promise– she’s self-aware enough to know that she’ll probably forget about the jacket as soon as the topic changes.

She nods her understanding at Yas’ explanation. Maybe spontaneous theft with the aim of losing some historically, technologically, and, hell, financially invaluable notes to the void of time wasn’t an option. Good to know. Unfortunately, that makes her life a lot harder. She’s trying to scheme up something despite her empty head, figure out how to use double-speak like all her favourite characters in mystery novels. The ones who used their sly turns of phrases to technically admit the truth without implicating themselves, the ones that made it worth rereading the book as soon as you’d finished the final page. “Well, now that time travel really exists, what do we do next? When we get back?” Jin asks, speaking slowly and methodically. Just enough to give her some time to think. The comparison to an Agatha Christie-esque crook was perhaps less fitting than one to a detective. More Inspector Clouseau than Poirot or Sherlock, but still. She just had to figure out the right questions to ask. “Like, what do you think will happen with the, um, technology?” Was she being too ambiguous? Jin’s torn between the urge to clarify and the knowledge that she should shut up. 

Yas nods once at her expression of appreciation, an awkwardly quiet 'no problem' leaving him. He feels weird taking the credit for looking out for anyone in the lab, let alone in this case, where someone could pop back into 2020 naked. Something about Jin gives him little sister energy, and he knows anyone else would be doing the same, looking out for her.

Her line of questioning is intriguing. He isn't sure what she's getting at, but by the way she's speaking slowly and... oddly off-beat, it sounds like there's something else she wants to be getting out of him. He doesn't know how to respond, though. To be fair, he's more open than ever to answering questions about his work tonight, but he squints at her, unsure, mildly confused. "I suppose we... well, I'm not the person to ask about this, Ibra is the one who's going to do the work after this, maybe Sunny, too," he sits back, face still twisted in concern. "I don't know if they plan on going to the press right away, but I doubt it, I think there are a few long steps to be taken before that. I'm not sure we'll take another jump soon, we need to adjust the code, fix a lot of things, so..." he pauses, feeling like he strung together a bunch of words but said essentially nothing. "Why-- what... do you want to know?"

[yasxgamal]

gemcrowns​:

Fair point. Not that it should really stop him if he’s truly craving that smoke—a stolen pack of cigarettes won’t be on his criminal record in 2020 nor will it place him behind bars. Admittedly, it is a little strange to lack that power of money in this world of currency that isn’t in Hyuk’s possession, but perhaps it’s for the best; the time machine doesn’t really have enough room for this many people and fancy futuristic gadgets, as much as he would like to purchase an AI assistant for his office. Still, not being able to afford something that doesn’t cost more than eleven pounds is a foreign feeling.

“ Got talked out of it. A bunch of rational people, ” he murmurs under his breath as if it’s an insult, but there’s a shadow of a smile looming over his face. Alright, maybe he shouldn’t roam the city in a flying car, but he’s surely not going to spend the rest of their time here cooped up in this lobby, even if that means sneaking out. Oh, just you wait, Hyuk—in just an hour, he’ll be wishing he’d stayed watching Yas munch on crackers instead. “ So, ” he starts, motioning in the direction of Yas’ laptop as he crosses his legs, “ you think our fucked up arrival has anything to do with the code? ” Or maybe some sort of frequencies have interfered with it, not that he knows or understands anything about scientific methods. Let’s be honest: Hyuk is just here to look pretty and wave stacks of cash in his hand, not be useful with the engineering or programming of the time machine. Doesn’t mean he’s not curious, though.

⌫

Yas scoffs out in amusement at the way Hyuk throws around the word 'rational' as an insult to the others in the group. They were a bunch of heavily rational people in nature, to be fair, what did he expect? He hasn't talked to Ibra after their initial interaction, but he can imagine the head of the project is currently stressing and micro-managing everyone, so of course Hyuk would be sitting here. He sounds like a bored child who can't go out and play.

"I don't know yet," he responds to the question, first. He knows there's a good point in asking, but he still resents the implication that this is his fault. He does think it was his fault, but that doesn't mean he wants anyone else thinking it, too. Yas adjusts himself on the chair and takes another gulp of the water bottle. "The fact we ended up in different spots, that I can't say. Might've been more of an engineering fuck up," at least he's genuine on that; not that he means to push the blame over to Akira, but he can't imagine his code having anything to do with that part. "I'm trying to figure out the extra people we seem to have brought over, though. That's... so strange," he drags a hand over his eyes and wishes he could shoo off the distant headache more easily. "You knew İlkay before this, too, right?"

[dawn0fsanity]

That’s very sweet.

[yasxgamal]

perhaps-jin​:

So far, so good. That wasn’t a dismissal, at least not outright. Jin summons a smile, which she hopes comes across more charming and less contrived. “Sorry about that, I should have…” she begins again, but trails off before she can let the impulse to start waxing lyrical about chapstick or something equally as insipid overtake her. It takes a concerted effort, but she manages a soft “Yeah, sorry,” as a capstone to what would have been another bout of aimless chatter. 

“Clothes?” Jin parrots, her eyes widening in surprise. For a moment she hesitates, then decides this was all some joke she wasn’t in on yet. Her laughter is crisp and clear and long, but the jubilance does not quite reach her eyes. Instead, she searches Yas’ face for a flicker of amusement, a sign of camaraderie, but she does not find it. Jin’s laugh ends abruptly, played off with a short little cough. Was he being serious? Jin’s expression darkens. “Oh my god, you mean I might end up..?” Jin doesn’t finish the thought. Her mind has moved on. An uneasy apprehension has settled over Jin like a heavy blanket. “Do you think we might lose the stuff we brought with us? Like my phone? Or your laptop?” Or Ibrahim’s notes? They’d probably get back okay on his person, but the idea of snatching them and making a run for it seems like even less of an option now. Or… would getting them lost not necessarily be a bad thing? The machine had already been built, so it didn’t seem like they had much use beyond strengthening any possible claims Ibrahim might invent. The wheels in Jin’s head are turning, but so much is just conjecture given that she has no solid grasp on science or technology in general. For a moment she opens her mouth, lips parting around am appeal to Yas for advice, but she reconsiders before doing anything rash. Subtlety, Jin. “What, um, do you think is going to happen when we get back?” Jin asks, fully aware of the vague and tangential nature of the question, but figuring it’s the best she can do thinking on her feet. 

Yas doesn't know what exactly Jin is even apologising for, but he thinks actually asking so would be too confrontational, so he simply tsk's it off and nods like he understands. He's been in the awkward position of apologising for nothing before, so if that's the case, he doesn't want to make her feel bad.

And he actually feels bad then when her eyes widen and she seems to realise the extent of what he was saying. He can't adjust the code now to take in consideration their clothes or any extra items, he has no idea how it's going to be. He's not even sure about the people who got here by accident, either. "Right, yeah. Maybe... definitely ask for Hyuk's jacket or something, I have no idea if..." he trails off, feeling like it'll be too much to even say it. He'd offer his own jacket if İlkay hadn't taken it. The idea of İlkay or Jin showing up without any clothes in 2060 is haunting. He'll die of second hand embarrassment even if they don't mind it that much. Her question has him shaking his head quickly, though. "No, no, anything we brought, should be taken back with us. That's a certainty. But anything we pluck from 2060 is... I don't know, it hasn't been taken into account on my code, so I... have no clue," the words come out of his throat scratching like barbwire; he hates admitting how much of this whole thing he has no control over.

"What will happen?" He echoes, his gaze lifting from the computer to look at her now, brows furrowing in concern. She sounds a bit hesitant, or worried, and he can't understand why. "What do you... mean? What do you want to know?"

[yasxgamal]

ilkmoons​:

“ I was in the middle of a very important job interview, ” she shrugs her shoulders, completely aware how fresh the wound of her lost opportunity is. İlkay isn’t one to linger on a loss, to soak it up and let it defeat her determination, but the day has already made her into someone she’s not, made her do and say things she normally wouldn’t; grieving her pitiful chances had happened to be one of those things. With time, she hoped she’d be able to set aside the betrayal nesting inside her heart. Part of her blamed the jump for taking the slot from her, and the other, tries to find a way to direct her displeasure onto herself. A smile tugs at the corner of her lips and İlkay weakly assures herself she can’t be all that pessimistic, “ but as they say, let bygones be bygones. ”

The chuckle at her little joke is alleviating; after her run-in with the astrophysicist İlkay didn’t think she’d see another person ever find her antics amusing again. Moments ago she wouldn’t have recognized either of the names he’d mentioned, but three hours is a lot of time to kill and she’d been busy introducing herself to most of the team. “ Yes, I’ve had the … honor of meeting her, ” she can’t help clinching her jaw at the reminder of the poor exchange. She’s grateful for the change in subject, the redirection to her apparel, almost jumps at it. “ Mhm, you like? ” İlkay puffs her chest out proudly, aware that her clothes aren’t in any way form-fitting or the least bit flattering—she isn’t one to back away from having her ego stroked. “ Can you believe that this, ” she pans a hand down her ensemble, “ has people already chasing after me? ” It’s not entirely true but neither is it a total lie. Those people chasing after her just happened to be the cyber authorities. Naturally, İlkay’s amusement is short-lived. She hears what Yas is really implying and even for İlkay, it’s flustering. “ You mean, I could pop back up in 2020 with? With no clothes? ” It isn’t something she had given much thought and the concept of it worsens at the idea of returning to the interview. Well, that could go one of two ways couldn’t it? “ Yas ! ” Her owlish eyes wrinkle into their own smile. She pokes the programmer in the chest, not sure if she should be impressed by his transparency or creeped out by it. Then again, this man could know about her racy use of the internet—did that mean ? Really ? She knows he’s drunk, didn’t know he was buzzed. “ I’m flattered, but don’t you think you should take me out to dinner before suggesting such a thing?” She sings jokingly and pities him for the chance he may not remember his own words. “ You land in 2060, find out part of your code that you’ve been slouching over works, and the first thing you do is get drunk? What, did you go clubbing or something?” This time, İlkay laughs at her own suggestion, finding it hard to imagine the man in such a setting.

⌫

Oh, terrible. Yas can only imagine time traveling in the middle of a job interview, as if that wasn't stressful enough on its own. It occurs to him then that he has no idea what İlkay does for a living, he never thought to ask; to be fair, there are a number of topics they never talked about, they didn't even know each other's names. Probably knowing each other's usual brand of cigarettes is as far as their "friendship" goes. "Well, I'm sorry about that," he offers, genuine.

She asks if he likes the outfit, and he ends up simply leaning away and squinting for a moment. Such insinuating comments might make him sputter awkwardly on another day, but alcohol is still present in his bloodstream for now, so he entertains the question seriously. Fashion in 2060 is... absolutely horrid, in his opinion. He supposes this is how old people feel when they complain about kids and their ripped jeans and tight outfits these days. "I mean, I can't imagine how bad your outfit before had to be, for you to change it to this," he jokes. 

When she teases him about going back naked, he has the decency to roll his eyes and look a bit embarrassed. "Shut up, I'm trying to be nice here." His hoodie is already unzipped as is, and he has no trouble shrugging it off and offering it to her. "Take it, or ask for Charlie's jacket, or something, just in case. It won't be good for any of us if a sudden naked woman shows up somewhere. I don't know anything for sure yet," because who knows if she'll even return to the lab or to the interview, and if these clothes will be carried over or not. "And for your information, it was one shot of something that tasted like poison, we landed in a club. I'm not drunk, I am pleasantly buzzed, and I can already feel a headache coming."

[kiwimidnight]

[yasxgamal]

ofsunnys​:

“No,” Sunny responds after dragging out a long moment’s thought behind her like an unruly toddler, pushing back her hair with a palm. She can feel the strands sticking to her temples, the heat of the club mixing with the warmth of the alcohol sliding its way through her body. The back of her neck feels like the peak of summer. “I mean, it’s science. People are in it for their own purpose. Their own gain.” Herself included, admittedly. “If Ibra really thinks he’d be able to carry out this project uncontested and not have to fight to keep the time travel machine, he’s got another thing coming. I’d genuinely be surprised if the government didn’t try to confiscate it.” She’s sure Charlie would agree with her on that one ( only to claim that they probably had a bunch of similar machines already and that they were all destined to conveniently disappear off the face of the Earth to keep the project’s success hushed ). 

Slow, languid steps are taken, grateful to see that the paths of the streets themselves hadn’t changed too much. Just a ten-minute journey down Strand should lead them to The Savoy. Her gaze points skywards as they walk, sweeping back to the programmer at her side with the telltale sign of a smile beginning to make its home upon her mouth. “Thanks, Yas,” she utters, genuine and true, her typically frosty demeanour melted by their mystery shots and his surprising promise of loyalty. “I knew bringing you in on the project was a good idea. You’re always one step ahead of everyone else when it comes to these things.” The curve of her lips deepens, parting to speak but briefly distracted as what looks like a hovercar catches her eye, sliding through the air a few storeys above their heads. “Shit,” she murmurs for lack of anything else to say, blinking through the awe before remembering the words that lay static upon her tongue. “I don’t even really mind what happens to the machine as long as I can have access to it. Maybe the whole project should just remain a secret between all of us?”

⌫

The way Sunny admits with that hesitant 'no' is funny enough to make him laugh again. Any other sober time, it might've earned nothing more than quiet amusement, but alcohol makes him a lot more open with his reactions, these days. "Yeah... I don't think any of them would try to steal it now, y'know?" He offers, hoping it's reassuring. He used to believe that, that's why he started keeping track of their work in the background, but now? They have been working on this for far too long, days and nights that stretched together endlessly, they were practically family. A highly dysfunctional family, but is there even such thing as a functional family, anyway? Now that he knows these people, he doesn't think any of them would truly fuck the rest of the team over for their own gain. And he's not one to believe blindly in people's kindness often.

She thanks him and Yas looks away, an amused hum sounding from his throat. He longs for praise and recognition, but he's absolute shit at taking compliments to his face. The duality of man. Luckily for him, a goddamn flying car zooms by before he has to answer anything to that. "Holy fuck," he curses along, head completely tilted back to watch the vehicle disappear behind the buildings. He looks for some kind of wire or track, but doesn't find anything else against the backdrop of the London skies, which indicates they really did it. Forty years and they will finally reach Flying Cars status. "Was that flying by itself, that's--" insane, he wants to finish, still looking up like an idiot, but Sunny is speaking again, so he listens to that, instead. His gaze snaps back down to her, another amused chuckle leaving him. "I can't agree with that. Personally, I would die inside if this had to stay between us," he admits, pausing for a beat to let the humour in his voice die down before speaking again. "What would you do with it? If it was just yours?"

[yasxgamal]

Time to get trippy. 5

5: The last message my character sent to yours

< from years ago >

3:43pm [ yas > nimi ]: hey dude, we up for friday?? 8:12pm [ yas > nimi ]: yo?

< a day later > 

10:29pm [ yas > nimi ]: am i blocked lol

< a week later >

8:31am [ yas > nimi ]: if you ever need anything, you can hit me up, you know

[yasxgamal]

scoutshonours​:

Where: The Savoy, year 2060. When: Time Jump 01, Hour 04. Who: Open.

Dressed in running gear (consisting of blue leggings, a gray UCL hoodie, and black trainers) and with a dirty-pawed German shepherd by their side, Scout feels completely misplaced in the upscale hotel. The walk here has stressed out Laika, who keeps pulling at the leash in all sorts of directions, completely at a loss for where to go. To be fair, so is Scout.

They decide to sit down on a nearby bench, where they can dedicate their attention entirely to Laika. Quincy told them that their time in 2060 would run out soon, so Scout is tentatively hopeful. However, it’s not like time travel has ever been done before. What if they don’t go back? What if they go too far back? What if they land a few months off? Even just a few days would irreversibly fuck up Scout’s pre-semester planning. Weeks might cost them their entire degree.

Although their intention was to calm Laika, Scout is now the one who needs calming. As much as they have attempted to keep things together for Laika’s (and their dignity’s) sake, they can’t do it anymore. There are too many unknowns. Scout doesn’t function when there are unknowns. Unknowns ruin plans, they ruin lives, they’ll ruin their life, their life is ruined.

That’s the line of reasoning that leaves Scout in the beginning stages of a panic attack. Their breath comes in fast and leaves just as quick. The right side of their body begins to tingle, oh God, they can’t feel their arm, this is it, this is a heart attack, they’re going to die, and no one will know because they’ll die in the future, and Laika won’t know what happened, and their parents won’t know what happened, and they never got to fall in love again or grow old with someone, they never got to help enough people or leave a piece of themselves behind for others to remember them by, all they’ve left is a shitty flat and a messy calendar.

By hour four, Yas already has an idea of the mess he's gotten himself into. Well, the mess that they all got themselves into, but he still feels a pang of guilt and responsibility. He doesn't think he's the sole culprit anymore, maybe it wasn't only his code that got fucked up in the process, but he still thinks he should've been able to avoid it.

He decides to go back to the hotel lobby, bunker down and write some more notes and thoughts that his brain is rushing through, and that when he spots someone else. Admittedly, the dog is what catches his eyes first. But then he notices the apparent panic, and the outfit that stands out for being familiar, and the shoes that aren't completely ugly and insane-looking like the rest of what he'd seen around tonight. It's easier than he'd think, to spot someone from their present. In hindsight, he supposes it would also be easy to spot a person from the 80s in 2020, so it makes sense.

"Hi? Hi," he approaches carefully, his steps wide and hesitant, his movements slow like he's approaching a scared animal. At least the dog doesn't seem to show any aggression, although Yas doesn't know much about dogs at all. He wants to sit on the bench so they can be levelled and he doesn't feel so creepy by just standing there while they panic, but he also doesn't want to invade their space. So instead, he crouches down on the sidewalk by the bench, like he's doing some form of spiderman pose. At least he knows he achieves the unthreatening look, specially being on the dog's eye level. Lowering his stance works when he has to calm down his nephew, so. He's just trying to be comforting. "Are you alright? What are you feeling? Deep breaths," he instructs, and hopes to heaven above that this isn't some crazy dangerous reaction to time travel. "Hey, we're going back in just another hour or so. It's okay."

[yasxgamal]

samarawilliams​:

Where: London Street, 2060.  When: Time Jump 01: Hour 03. Who: @yasxgamal.

When she was younger Sam experienced chronic vertigo. There was no explanation for why it happened or when it stopped, but her body instinctively knew what to do. She shut her eyes to keep herself grounded despite the nauseating sensation of her brain swirling around in her head. She was teleported into an alley. The sound of something mechanical faded from her ears as she opened her eyes

She recognized cars on the street the way someone who only ever saw a horse-drawn carriage might recognize her hybrid. Something clearly meant for travel, but its mechanisms far more advanced than anything she’s ever seen. In 2020 modern buildings were becoming nothing but glass and reflective surfaces, having run out of space to developed wider buildings grew taller, and bright white lights broke through the night sky. Sam squinted against the glare of glowing neon lights. People paid no attention to her as she walked down the street, but she felt them tense as she walked hurriedly through them. Wearing dark colors allowed her blend in easily as a non-entity, but like everything else in 2060 there was something off-kilter about her. Her bag was gone, but she felt the weight of a gun and box of matches in her jacket pocket. 

Sam walked five blocks before she realized she had no idea where she was walking too. Her instincts were headquarters, but there was no saying what happened to MI5 and she was bound to have lost security clearance. In the last two weeks she began to feel tension from her handler who expected her to wrap things up quickly and neatly. They managed to surpass her expectations, but her arrival was uncalculated— potentially not the only mistake they’ve made. Without the dossier Sam only had the memory of names and faces to go off of, but she knew they couldn’t be far.  

To be fair, Yas didn't want to be walking around looking for more people, or at least, a part of him didn't. The incident seemed to be his fault -- he was the only code writer in there, so it had to be something he fucked up that made İlkay show up here with them. He wanted to sit inside the lobby and take notes and try to fix things already, his brain was working a hundred miles per second.

Still, there was the annoyingly intrusive thought that suggested: what if there are others? Maybe they had brought someone else along, maybe they had brought dozens of other people along, who was to say? He couldn't find the flaw in the code so he didn't even know what had caused this and what could be the size of the damage. Christ, what if they had accidentally brought over half of the population of 2020 London? They didn't know it yet.

So he walked tentatively out of the hotel, hoping he wouldn't find anyone who may fit the from-forty-years-ago-and-lost-in-the-future look, but looking for them anyway. Eventually he caught sight of someone, and the dread that settled in was quickly replaced by relief -- he didn't know her. He had no idea who she was, he couldn't remember ever seeing her before, so maybe this wasn't his code's fault. With İlkay, he had reason to believe he had fucked it up, he knew her, too. But if this had happened at random, then maybe it was something else.

"Excuse me?" He called, reaching out for the woman's shoulder but thinking against it last minute. "Hey-- hi-- hello? I'm Yas," he started, dumbly. How did one approach someone and say excuse me ma'am, did you come from 2020? There was no easy way to put it. He didn't want to just say that and risk having a 2060 citizen call the cops on him for being high and bothering strangers. "I think we might... be coming from the same place?"

[yasxgamal]

gemcrowns​:

“  who gives out crackers? this is a hotel, not a retirement home.  ” candy, he gets, or little chocolates, but for a world this modern and exciting, they could do better than crackers. hyuk takes a seat right next to him and throws his arm over the armrest, offering a bottle of water that is fresh out of the fridge. ( he didn’t steal it, mind you. apparently, refreshments are free to everyone, even when they’re not staying at the hotel as guests. ) “  here,  ” he says, “  you’ll need it when your mouth eventually feels like the sahara.  ” there’s also that hangover—he might not have talked to yas or sunny yet, but the chattier team members have let him in on the fact that they’ve been drinking. at least hyuk isn’t the only one, even if he only downed a shot.

“  i doubt that cigarettes have gone extinct. i’m sure they still sell them around here.  ” not that he’s seen anyone with an old fashioned cigarette hanging out of their mouth; it seems like in this day and age, electronics have fully replaced them, with stronger smells and tastes too. the downside? when he was in the nightclub with ibrahim, he realized he didn’t particularly enjoy breathing in a cloud of cotton candy, feeling as if he was on tour for willy wonka and the chocolate factory ( as someone with a sweet tooth, he wouldn’t be opposed to something like that, but not when cotton candy is involved ). he eyes the laptop that is currently consuming all of yas’ attention and he can’t help but shake his head a little. damn workaholics. “  you’re always working, man. come on—we’re in 2060. live a little.  ”

⌫

Yas shrugs to that first question, still enjoying his crackers enough not to question the hotel's choices. Something has gone very weird in the last forty years for this type of food to be a treat for guests, but oh well. Jello salads were a thing at one point, so anything is possible. The water is actually much appreciated, and it might be the first time he looks up from his computer in the last hour. "Thank you, man," he nods, cracking the bottle open to have a generous gulp.

"Can't buy it, though." He works on closing the water bottle and tucking it by his side so he can go back to typing away his notes safely. The only plausible thing that could get him away from his computer now would be a cigarette, really, but he entertains Hyuk's comment with one glance and an amused huff. "I already did the living part of it," he protests, grimacing at the memory of the gasoline-like shot he'd taken with Sunny hours ago. He never wants to drink again. And he can't see how he'll be of any help wandering around instead of trying to work. "What about you? Nowhere else more interesting to be either, I assume?"

[ninenine-brooklyn]

[yasxgamal]

ibrxeulim​:

“Deep, huh?” Ibra asks with a hint of a smirk. He hated to admit it, but he loved a good gossip. Perhaps it was the years watching reality TV with Lamisi that did it for him, but he loved the drama and learning the secrets of those who worked with him. Not that he particularly enjoyed meddling in his own business, but he appreciated a good gossip. “Well, if any of those deep connections may affect our project in any way - or help us convince her not to go straight to the press - do let me know.” It could be a weapon, to have someone close to her convince her. An interesting thought. “Magnetic waves of her phone wouldn’t explain her being sent with us. Unless the machine picked up her biometric data. Phone do have facial recognition and fingerprint detection so you might be correct.” 

Yas was a brilliant young man, it was very lucky to have him on the team. Ibra couldn’t blame him or the others for drinking, despite his general dislike for it - specially during a complicated mission, for the love of Allah - but at least he could count on Yas working hard through it, unnecessary as it was in the moment. “Taking notes sound fair. Tomorrow after we’ve all rested and gotten each and everyone’s report in for analysis, we’ll sit down and take a look at this.” They need to fix it first thing if they ever plan on time jumping again. If it had carried a stranger with them once, he didn’t want to think what would happen if they went further back in time, or further forward. If the machine needed more energy, and more signals, they might be looking into a generalized disaster. Not that he couldn’t see the humor or transporting all of London back in time, but he’d rather not get involved in something like that. 

“We saw androids, Hyuk and I. Bartenders, too. To be quite honest, it looked like a sex club to me. Not that we stayed long enough to ask. The date is as we planned it though, to the minute, so at least that part of the code is working perfectly.” He nods, crossing his arms over his chest. “A newspaper, if those are still a thing. Doubt it. A book, perhaps. Something with information on the changes of the world in the last 40 years. Nothing big. Just please don’t bring this up with Charlie or Hyuk. They might want to take one of those flying cars with us.”

⌫

The way Ibrahim says deep seems to indicate something inappropriate or some juicy piece of information, which feels pretty confusing to Yas. All he knows is that she's Akira's sister and Charlie's roommate or something like that -- and he's only known about these things from the past thirty minutes listening to everyone ramble at each other, so there's that. Sadly, he doesn't have a lot to contribute when it comes to gossiping.

"For what is worth, I think she's really good friends with Charlie, so... I don't think she'd do anything to hurt the project," he points out, hoping it's reassuring enough. The sisters don't seem to have too close of a relationship, but maybe the Charlie route is a safer one to make sure İlkay doesn't somehow turn on them. They did possibly ruin her life a little bit, though. Maybe she wouldn't be too wrong to tell people about it. "She did have her phone with her when she was sent here, maybe that also affects the case. I'm not so sure."

The plan to analyse the data tomorrow is a good one, Yas will give him that. He'll take the notes he wants to take, and do his best to leave the fixing for the morning. But no promises. "Sunny and I met holographic A.I. bartenders. Pretty impressive stuff," he nods. "Won't mention it, got it. You should check the library, they must have good records of the last few decades. Didn't Lamisi come from there? Maybe she's seen something."

[yasxgamal]

8

8: My character’s general opinion of your character

Yas likes Charlie. In his opinion, it's honestly pretty hard not to. The guy's like a 6'5" human labrador or something. Yas has a natural liking towards underdogs since he feels like one himself, and when it comes to the time machine project, he knows Charlie is pretty overlooked and easily disregarded as the quiet conspiracy theorist kid -- so he makes a point to notice him. Even if half the time he is talking bullshit, he's still pretty entertaining. Yas isn't the type to joke around and relax often when he's in the middle of a project like this one, but he actually got to change that a few times when Charlie was around (namely the time they had a paper airplane contest for an hour, or the office chair races). There's a youthfulness him that Yas appreciates. Also, his podcast is not the worst.

[yasxgamal]

perhaps-jin​:

That had been a question, right? (Of course it was a question Jin, she chastised herself in the privacy of her own head, what did you take it for, a confession?) Not a rhetorical one, but one directed squarely at Jin? A surreptitious glance reveals to no other candidates within earshot. It’s all the invitation she needs to sidle up to Yas, barely resisting the urge to lean in and peer at his screen. 

Yas perplexed Jin. They had met a few times when they were young, so the story goes, and Jin had introduced herself anew each time. Mortifying. Even worse, she’d never made the same mistake with his siblings. When it turned out he was working on the project, Jin was caught trying to decide if it would be better to try and make amends or avoid him outright. The latter felt too cruel, even if Jin sometimes suspects Yas would prefer it, so she’s tried a few times in vain to chat but the words would always come out awkward, intentions mangled by uncouth delivery. Sometimes he’d join a conversation with the rest of the science team and Jin would hover nearby, waiting for an opportunity to insert herself in the discussion but none ever came. She often felt as if he was on the prying side of a two-way mirror: she could see Yas, but he probably wasn’t even aware she existed. Jin really hopes she’s wrong about that.

“I, um, I don’t think so. At least I didn’t, uh, see anyone with some? Not that they would just have them out in the open. I think the group is suspicious enough without carrying around forty year old packers of cigarettes. Or would cigarettes seem suspicious? I, um, haven’t seen anyone smoking, but I’m not the best at, well, you know, uh, noticing things. Maybe it’s still really common. I gure there’s still some way to smoke, but maybe, uh, everyone moved over to e-cigarettes or something? It feels more futurey that way, but then again some things feel like they haven’t changed all that much. So I guess I don’t think I’d be that surprised if regular cigarettes were still around and popular. With the hipsters at least. I mean, the future’s got to have some kind of hipster type, right? It, um, just seems necessary,” Jin’s rambles, trying to reign herself in and failing miserably. She wills herself to shut up but can’t – like how when you stare at your arm and tell it in words to move, nothing happens no matter how hard you try; you have to tap into the subconscious, mysterious part of your brain to get it to shift, and in Jin that connection has stopped cold.

Oh, no. Yas holds back a grimace seeing that it's Jin he accidentally talked to. It's not that he doesn't like her or anything, she's simply... difficult to understand. He has run background checks on everyone on the team, has seen more stuff than he cares to admit, and yet, he can't figure out Jin. She seems like a good enough person, despite her terrible memory towards him when they were kids, but he can ignore that nowadays -- they were all dumb rich kids going to galas they didn't want to be at.

He has to respect her for not asking about his sister. But she's still... so odd around him, like she's scared of him or something. And sure, he doesn't feel compelled to go out of his way to befriend her, either, but he's polite enough. He can't judge when he doesn't have the best social skills himself, anyway. Maybe they're in similar boats.

He doesn't even process her rambling until halfway through, and by then his eyes widen a little, eyebrows raising. "Hipsters, right," he agrees -- or, is he agreeing? He couldn't keep up with her points after the avalanche of words. There's definitely a headache coming onto him, his hangover pounding somewhere on the back of his head. "Uh, well, it's-- that's okay. Figured. Don't... worry or anything."

Then he remembers the clothing store situation, and that he should probably extend to her the same courtesy he did to İlkay. "Are you wearing clothes from this year? Listen, I don't know if we're gonna be able to bring it back with us on the returning jump... You know?"

[yasxgamal]

5

5: The last message my character sent to yours

[ yas > lamisi ]: okay so what about these gloves [ yas > lamisi ]: https://www.amazon.com/Copper-Compression-Arthritis-Gloves-GUARANTEED/dp/B00ZO4WW7Q [ yas > lamisi ]: anyway if i don't ever get the surgery, will my hands fall off, or can i just live with the pain forever?