interstellar5555 | (no subject)

Who: Marty and YOU!
What: For some reason, he can't get the hang of smartphones...
When: 2/20 - 2/22?
Where: Out and about the city.
Warnings: I have no idea.

one

There's something about phones that Marty just can't get.

He's grown up with these things as far as he can remember. Everybody who was everybody had a phone; how did you keep in touch with the world? Being in a part of a band required constant communication, being hip with the times. You always had to refresh, making sure that you were on the tip-top of every fashion statement being made, or else you were a laughing stock.

Imagine Marty's embarrassment when a fan asks for a picture (after signing his cast, which was cute), and he doesn't know how to flip the view. After receiving a very strange look, Marty is told that all you have to do is press a button. Pressing the button turns one camera off and turns another one on, and ta-dah! You have a selfie!

Stuff like that always seems to slip his mind. Select something from this menu, press down on that button. It's like everything is being updated way too quickly for him to catch up.

Why try to keep up with something, when it was borderline impossible?

You might find a disgruntled Marty leaning against a building nearby, eyeballing his phone like it was an alien. He tosses it into the air once, twice, and oh look at that. Straight on the floor. After choosing a few choice words from his vocabulary to describe his emotions, Marty straightens up to observe the face of his phone, which is now littered with cracks. To make things better, when he powers it on the screen doesn't show anything but a dirty gray color.

So he just lets it flop back down on the floor. Not like it was much use, anymore. "Perfect." You almost had to be a scientist to figure this stuff out-

- and Marty can picture one. Wild, white hair, huge eyes, and a lot of lightning...-

but where that came from, he didn't know. "Whoa." Maybe the ghost of his old phone was starting to haunt him with these weird visions. Again.

Threaded | Flat

"Oooooh, hey! You dropped your phone!"

Pinkie was only passing, but she leans down to pick it up anyway. Turning it over in her hands, she winces at the cracks splintering their way across the screen. "Awwwwww, man. Sorry, it's kinda totally cracked." She hands it back over. "You're gonna need to get that fixed, sometimes you can use it like that, but it's a huge pain."

"Tough break, man," Sabo says. He had been wandering around, trying to get his head back together when everything is trying to fall apart or hide in shadowy corners that he just can't reach. He peers at the phone and shrugs.

"Though if it still works it's not too bad." He picks up the phone and tries to fiddle with it. "What happened?"