#transmission : frankpooleunoffical

[commbowman]

“Now what?”

—

Frank and Hal are chill and aren’t dead when they reach TMA-2. Dave talks Frank into letting him investigate the monolith instead, but still goes beyond the infinite. The three in hibernation were unable to wake due to issues in the ship’s systems that couldn’t be fixed, so now Frank and Hal are left wondering what the fuck to do.

“…I believe that question would be more fitting for me to ask you, Frank. In Dr. Bowmans absence, you are left in command…”

The computer hesitated for a moment. It had been a few hours since Bowman’s EVA but it felt like an eternity. Hal was made to be able to operate independently in the event that the crew was incapacitated or killed but had never expected to have to. It came so unexpectedly that Hal was unsure of what to do at all. A numb feeling that may have been grief, guilt- if had the words for his version of them.

“There are still a few external cameras not responding, perhaps it would be benifital to fix them. Maybe the footage would be…recoverable…”

The event itself was blinding. A blip and Dave was gone, a speed undetectable to both the human eye and the machine. Not nearly as colorful as what the man had experienced himself. Whatever it was, whatever actually happened was powerful enough to rock and alter the Discovery. Leaving Hal partly blind, externally, but it was optimistically fixable without EVA.

It was the first time Hal did not mention the importance of the mission. They were here and Frank was more than informed on its true nature. It was only logical to do what they had come to do, yet he could not bring himself. He was left lethargic, something a computer should never be.

“Frank?”

He was usually the most chatty of the three of them, Hal had enjoyed listening to him talk. Though now it seemed even he had little to note.

[commbowman]

“I feel like the floor of a taxi cab.”

—

I’m not letting go of annoying ghost frank sorry 😂 two minutes after Dave disconnects Hal, he gets a call over the radio. Frank can be quiet when he’s alive, but the second he dies he can’t shut up. Go figure. - @frankpooleunofficial

The man sat on the floor in front of the hatch, screwdriver still gripped in his gloved hand. His breathing was heavy and mechanical as he forced it into a regular pattern. His lungs still adjusting after mere seconds in the airlock, he was trained to be able to hold his breath for over a minute though it was still rough to come back from. He could remember holding his breath underwater as a boy, lounging at the bottom of the pool like some sort of crocodile. When he arose he’d spend most of his time flat on the pool deck learning to breathe again.

He went to wipe his eyes only to find his arm met with his helmet. God… the radio within popped and fizzled to life. He’d almost expected it to be Hal back from the dead and ready for revenge— see how he likes his brain being picked apart. No. Hal wasn’t like that.

The voice that had come through was unexpected and absolutely inane. “What?” Dave laughed, always more of a chuckle than a guffaw, he clutched his stomach.

“N-no I’m serious, what do you mean by that… I…” he looked around him. At the white padded walls of the upper floors, the panels and separate control consoles.

He was alone.

“You’re losing it, Davey…” he muttered to himself as he went to stand.

[commbowman]

Prompts for comfortable intimacy: guide and tie.

(The tie will come later lmao. Also I hope you don’t mind that I chose these prompts 😳)

- @frankpooleunofficial

—

It was one of the busiest gatherings of the year, and Frank had decided that it was getting boring.

Sure, he appreciated the generous donations from politicians to the state space program, but it was more of the same thing all the time. The next big bank-breaking mission hadn’t been announced yet, but Poole was forced to be there instead of just being invited, so he assumed it must be the night. Oh well; he could have fun and avoid the press until after all that was said and done.

Suddenly, an obnoxious voice pierced his sense of tranquility, and he saw Dave Bowman cornered by a group of chattering older men. Some people obviously can’t take a hint, he thought. At least I can read a face when I try.

He decided his new mission was to get Dave the hell out of there, then sneak out for a bit. He’d come back just before the board began its speeches.

“Hey! Hope I’m not missing out on too much,” he teased.

“No, not at all,” said one of the men.

“Nope, we’re just making conversation.”

“Good,” he started. “Well, I hope you boys don’t mind if I steal your buddy here, do ya? I need help finding something and I think he saw where I put it.”

Frank moved in beside Dave. He could practically hear the other’s teeth grinding.

“Oh, you go ahead! We won’t keep you two.” Thank god.

“Thanks,” Frank slipped his hand around his friend’s waist and pulled him through the crowd, guiding him through a horde of people dressed in fancy evening gowns and pressed suits.

They made it to the front of house with few witnesses, and Frank slipped into the coat check without a sound. Dave was still following, and he squinted as they entered the dark room.

He never minded gatherings like this, there was decent food and sometimes a good conversation or two. Sure, most of it was begging for money but he found a way to get something out of it.

All that was required of him was to be nice and answer a question or two if they really needed him. One of many. Except lately he had been gaining so notoriety, and don’t get him wrong he likes it. As much as anyone would when their hard work pays off with attention, as much as anyone in the field ones their five minutes of fame. But he wasn’t expecting the downside so soon.

They swarmed him.

His gaze locks onto Frank, the first young face he’d seen for the better part of an hour. He made his eyes large in the universal symbol - help me -. His smile grew faker for the rest of the group, harder to maintain without breaking his jaw.

Oh darn! Looks like I’m needed elsewhere. Aw shucks fellas…

“Oh that’s right, I know just where it is,”

He’s helping.

Stop helping.

Move.

Dave moved as quickly as he was directed to. Swift and infinitely grateful for the escape. All the tension left his shoulders as they maneuvered through the well dressed crowd.

“Thanks for saving me out there,” he said in the dark of the coat room. Dripping with relief, he grabs at one of the coat racks to ground himself as his eyes adjust.

“You’re my hero,” he chuckles.

[commbowman]

“I’m real. Touch my hands; I’m right here.”

—

Halman has a panic attack (or something similar) and Frank may need to adjust his grounding techniques. @frankpooleunofficial

“ahhgh…. A….A….Aa…..”

The speakers could only configure so much of what the being tried to convey. They screamed under the strain of feedback.

It twisted now in the seat, trying to stand or sit or lay down— all of them at once really. They reached upright as if trying to breathe, something they stopped doing long ago, keeping their head above non existent water. Clawing its way out of its current existence.

“-ank!”

His hands, now ten of them, reached out desperately into the dark for the other. He could hear him but was seeing well beyond his plane of existence. Stuck so far.

Was he really there at all?

“Nkkkkk…”

Two hands. No arms.

One.

Three.

Halman was tearing itself apart, dissolving as it spoke. Reaching even when they were barely there at all, parts of them dispersing across the room.

[commbowman]

“You really don’t remember anymore, do you?”

—

Each time they pushed for more freedom, the monolith blocked out memories. It started small, but he soon couldn’t remember the majority of his life… then he couldn’t remember his name or what they looked like. To get the perfect tool, the firstborn needed to cut away distractions; he could earn his freedom, but they wouldn’t remember why they wanted it.

Completely inhuman Halman and a very flustered Frank. They can go spend time together in a busy part of Star City. As a treat. - @frankpooleunofficial

“No,” it replied. The word came with a noise similar to a gargled laugh as if trying to put Frank at ease. The monotone was too pleasant and tended to have the opposite effect. It did not seem to notice.

It leaned against one of the railings looking out over everything before them. Fascinated by a world it could hardly recognize or understand. The other had to remind them more times than he should that he understood it all only marginally better… right. It’ll remember that.

“I’m sorry.”

A word they knew had a meaning that he could not fully meet. Something that was supposed to be said when met with a frown. It curled itself up against the railing, practically fusing with it.

It wasn’t used that often anymore. These people were different than the one next to him, developing their own communication one could learn but equally be outside of. They knew they didn’t use it right.

“Remind me?”

They turned, or something close to it, back to the other. Only able to be cleansed and wiped of so many things… there were other things to be done, the leash could be pulled at any moment but Halman was stubborn even in its current state. Some parts can never be expunged and what were they but the remainders of…. Were… what remained.

[commbowman]

Squint - @frankpooleunofficial

—

Having his eyeballs frozen was not something Frank had ever expected from an accident at work. Whatever the doctors these days had up their sleeves did a pretty impressive job of letting him see again, but there were still little imperfections and reduced central vision. There were surgeries he could have that would fix it, but they were far riskier than simply leaving it be. He would adapt.

“Looks like freckles…” he said. “I didn’t notice before.”

Maybe he was getting a bit too comfortable, but Frank leaned in close to Halman and inspected the little glowing dots that made up his form. There were speckles of blue, red, yellow, purple, and white all spread about like grains of sand.

“Is that good?” They ask, cocking their head to the side.

Not shrinking away when the other leaned in, uncomfortable not but in the same way as with others. Frank’s examination was different. He noticed things about them not even they had.

When they shifted the dots would move, fluttering around each other as if in a snow globe. It seemed to be representative of them free flowing, barely contained within a form. Doll like and not very detailed— yet incredibly so. He was made of contradictions but that only seemed to impress Frank.

“We never noticed either,” the voices soften together.

Cosmic dust, to put it plainly, he as anything else in the universe was comprised of it. Just more visibly so as he captured it to make himself visible and at some points tangible. In a way he comprised his own cosmos. Flecs, stars maybe, all about him. Some more visible and freckle like than others.

He wondered if it was the others… condition… that led him to be able to notice these details. All that the other, rare few he let see him, ignored.

[commbowman]

“Are you mad at me?” - @frankpooleunofficial

(Up to you but if you wanna base this off of your jealous Hal fic… 🙏)

“Not at all. If I may ask, what of my doing has given you that impression?”

Hal replied in his usual smoothing monotone but one could almost detect a light inflection to his voice. As if he were faining innocence.

“My attention lies souly where it should, in the routine functioning of the ship,”

Implying that Frank’s was elsewhere, somewhere it should not be. Implying he was not enough to deserve his anger. Hal’s confidence was not typically so assertive. Despite his claims he seemed very capable of passive aggression.

[commbowman]

Am I really going to ask him this? Now? What’s the worst that could happen?

“I’ve been thinking… do you want kids?”

—

Back to the pre-canon au where they’re married? @frankpooleunofficial

“W-well I—.”

Suddenly the room felt much too warm for him, he tugged at the collar of his shirt. Dave was a paler man and that meant when he got flushed it was far more noticeable than he would’ve cared it to be.

“I can’t save I’ve really thought about it before, really.”

His focus had always been elsewhere. He had always been open to the eventual conversation yet found himself unprepared when it actually arose.

“Suppose I can’t wait to answer when I’m older?” He asked, laughing slightly at his own hilarity. He wasn’t getting any younger and if he did, want kids, it’d be better to be alert and aware rather than tired all the time.

[commbowman]

Hi Hal, I haven’t been reaching out and I apologize. What have you been up to lately? Not still worried about the rumours surrounding Tycho, are you?

- @frankpooleunofficial

Hello Frank. I am operating at an acceptable level, it seems my main focus is to recover.

… no… should I be?

[commbowman]

“Is that mine?” - @frankpooleunofficial

—

Can’t come up with anything serious so they are stealing each other’s clothes now 😂

“Maybe,” he said, pinching out the shirt to stare down at the design on the face of it as if he didn’t know. It was a heavy University sweatshirt he’d just happened to find in the closet.

“I got cold.”

He smiled sheepishly.

Dave sat back in the lazy chair closing the magazine in his hands. He tossed it back onto the coffee table.

“You don’t mind it, do you?”

He was trying to look innocent, hard considering his grin. Now completely shameless.

[commbowman]

“Whoa… what’s all this?”

- @frankpooleunofficial

—

He collects stuff you say? What kind of stuff?

Frank is poking around and finds a collection. I’m sure we can write something about it!!

“It’s uh,” he claps his hand to the back of his neck and averts his gaze. No one ever thinks they have that much until they see it laid out in-front of them.

“I like to get a little something whenever I go some place new.”

A large chunk of the collection was ceramic ash trays, beautifully painted and only slightly kitchy. Some more than others. A few had matchbooks with them, others sat alone, most unused.

“I’ve got a few postcards too but I don’t know where I’ve put those. Though really my main trouble is Mars never caught up to clavius— I mean look at this.”

Dave reached over the other to grab on of them waving it in his hands with a great deal of confidence. As if he’d never dropped one before.

“I-I didn’t th-think I had such a strong opinion on the state of collectibles,” he chuckled.

[commbowman]

“How long have you been standing there!?”

—

Any time or place that you want in 3001. Also it’s really funny that you say you want spooky Dave because I was half dreaming and half awake this morning and thought someone was standing in the corner of my room. So this ask is inspired by that 😭😭 - @frankpooleunofficial

“Not terribly long,” he replied simply, his lips unmoving. This was not accounting for the way Frank would experience time, to him it would’ve been hours. Not that he would notice until Dave wanted him to.

The room was small, moderately furnished, rather plain. Not entirely belonging to the other besides a few personal items scattered about, most of them having to be given to him. Personal was a technicality.

“Did you sleep well?”

His voice was cheerful in a way it never quite had, before. Meant to be simple it came across far more manufactured than it had intended, this artificial pleasantness.

The figure remained across the room from the man, almost sequestered in the corner, waiting. Not wanting to move until he gave him an opportunity to calm down, seeing the look in his eyes. Almost something like fear. This bothered him though he couldn’t quite figure out why.

It had made a habit of watching, following. Never quite knowing a right time or place and not yet comfortable with spontaneity. Yet here they were.

[commbowman]

“You know you’re a nag? A very pretty one, but undoubtedly a nag.”

&

“… We are not having this conversation right now.”

—

Domestic Discovery where Frank needs to cut his hair, but he’s putting it off. It’s shaggy as hell. Dave and Hal are both bothering him about it now.

“A nag?” His brows raised comically.

Perhaps over expressing to compensate for his usual straight faced demeanor.

Dave rested his hands on his hips in an all too familiar pose. He was in the midst of attempting to put his foot down. The idea was farcical but he genuinely considered pulling the rank card.

“Give it another week and you’re going to look like Sonny Bono,” he said.

He reached up to push what was the beginning of bangs out of the others face with a slight smile. It had the potential to be flattering if he knew how to style it. Dave had never seen it this long.

“I could help you if you need me to.”

Not much leeway, though he was gentle and did not knick anymore than Frank would himself.

“If I have to keep it short so do you,” he huffs. Practically playing with the shag now.

“… at least a trim.”

God, he was becoming a pushover.

-

Hal watched Dave’s perceived fascination with Frank’s hair. He had never understood the human obsession with appearance that even applied here. Despite hygiene regulations the two of them seemed to find little ways to insert their tastes. It was interesting.

“May I remind that it is nothing personal, Frank. I find it exciting. But it is more a matter of safety.”

[commbowman]

“I can explain.”

—

Frank was on an early morning walk with Rikki, who found a kitten abandoned on the side of the road. He decided to bring it home and Dave just found him wrapping it in towels after washing it in the kitchen sink.

“Alright, let’s hear it.”

Dave prompted, lightly pushing Rikki down from the counter. She responded with a huff, wanting to again shove her face in the towel with the kitten. He blocked this.

He glances at the kitten and then to the other, trying to avoid that look forming in his eyes. He knew that look. Frank would get these big, brown puppy dog eyes and make it seem like this great humanitarian effort. And Dave, knowing himself, would fall for it.

[commbowman]

“I’m not letting you go.”

—

Dave and Frank haven’t seen each other in two weeks. - @frankpooleunofficial

He had barely placed his bag down onto the floor before being swooped into the tightest hug of his life. A few I missed yous, how are yous— all formality compared to this. Finally he was at a place in his life where he had someone to come back for. Someone who was just as happy to see him return.

“Promise?” He asked, his tone playful in a subdued way. Feeling his heart beat in his throat.

Dave pressed his face against the man’s shoulder for a moment, as if trying to hide. He wouldn’t have anywhere to go for a long while now, no more conferences.

[commbowman]

Did someone try to nuke you? How would that even work?

- @frankpooleunofficial

No, not me specifically from what I know. Probably just another fight between themselves by any rate, it’s over now. I wouldn’t worry about it.