BellaCielo

Leopard always felt a twinge of paranoia when dealing with people from the past. The possibility that she stood out in behavior or appearance, or otherwise commanded the wrong sort of attention, was a fear that often lingered in her mind. But there was no second-guessing PDP 1-chan's intentions – she obviously just wanted Leopard to be her friend. Penelope – as she had indicated her name to be – hadn't released Leopard's hand from her grip since she had towed her from the Lab; likewise, her strong pull hadn't eased a bit. If anything, it had become even more forceful, as if their destination was some great magnet to which s

 Leopard never realized it could get so warm here; when she thought of coastal New England she imagined a dreary land locked in near-perpetual winter – occupied with snow for more months than not, cool and damp for the rest. If there was any truth to this assumption she wouldn't know it; they were presently being treated to a glorious, cloudless day,  the mercury already pushing seventy degrees Fahrenheit with some time left until the sun reached the pinnacle in its trip across the sparsely-clouded sky. She was having difficulty enjoying this lovely morning, however; she had a tough task ahead of her, and not a lot of time. Checking her

Leopard and Selectric's discussion in the cozy booth at the back of the restaurant was cut short at around a quarter to eleven. Growing weary of the last patrons' loitering – and his subsequent inability to leave for the evening – the owner ushered them, rather forcefully, out of his shop and into the mild spring night, putting up the 'closed' sign as they left. Earlier Leopard expressed worry over where she would stay for the night; Selectric had reassured her that there would be rooms available at the Lab, since it doubled as something of a hostel for traveling computers and their human companions. 'For situations just like this

The train arrived in Cambridge half-past seven in the evening. Twilight had all but vanished into night but the sky was still well-lit with the glow of the surrounding metropolis; enough so that Leopard could read the note that PDP-chan had scribbled before promptly exiting the car. 'I have to get back home,' PDP had explained, before hefting a too-big-for-her-size piece of luggage from under her seat, 'Mom will be upset if I'm not back soon.' Before Leopard could say anything she had pushed her way through the crowd of towering adults and out of sight. Leopard inspected the note again. Written on it – in surprising good hand for a chil

She had been sitting on the platform for a few minutes when the conductor finally opened the door, allowing her to enter the caboose; a messy crew's quarters that appeared to have every comfort of home packed – in a decidedly uncomfortable manner – into a narrow-gauge train car.  Being inside was certainly better than sitting on the platform, but it wasn't pleasant by any stretch of the imagination; Leopard felt overcome by the cacophony of sounds and smells within. Pots and pans and other hanging items clanging against the walls competed with the rambunctious conversation of the crewmen for auditory supremacy, the allurin

DOS/360 shared many of her sister's features, but somehow arranged in a less threatening way. Instead of an intimidating grimace, she wore a mild, even pleasant expression; instead of an untamed mane, her long hair was tied neatly into double-tails. The two mainframe-tans were twins in most other physical respects: equally statuesque, well-dressed and positively exuding confidence. "I heard there's been a mix-up," DOS said, serenely approaching her sister, the butler and their prisoner Leopard. "You think you're HASP then, dear?" she asked, lowering herself to Leopard's eye-level. "Hah!" 360 shouted, a maniacal grin on her face, "She knows

1972 … Leopard wasn't sure what she'd gotten herself into as she timidly approached the large set of double doors which, while normal looking enough, had imprinted themselves in her mind as a symbol of looming destruction. She knew what was behind that door was large, hungry, upset – a terror of the past which she had been foolish enough to seek out, one that she would have to face if she didn't want worse happening. Picking up one large platter, she disregarded the second – thrown to the ground by a fleeing servant moments before – and the variety of food strewn across the floor and, swallowing her nervousness, stepped

It had been her lifelong aspiration to conquer time; more than a wish, it was her life's motivation, the very reason she was studying physics. It proved a mind-bending field of study even for a being of her intellect, but she pressed forward, slowly, steadily, attempting to absorb every drop of information she could; she would need it all someday if she was to ever realize her dream. Her sisters, artists for the most part, often questioned her pursuits but their judgments fell on deaf ears. She knew what she was going to do, even if she had no idea how to do it yet. So it surprised Leopard – to make a great understatement – to stum

Mark wasn't burdened by her usual attire, layers of heavy dress and delicate shoes, but she couldn't shake the habit of walking as if she was. The unnamed escort, who moved at a slightly less ladylike pace, kept looking over her shoulder making sure Mark wasn't being left behind, every so often issuing the question 'Am I walking too fast for you?' or an offer of 'If you'd like, I can slow down.' Each time Mark would decline the offer, but give thanks for the consideration. Even among these foreign MIT people the woman stood out. Her heavy accent was the first thing Mark noticed; she had been exposed to Boston accents all her life and had eve