The daily test flights that you endured every morning to ensure satisfactory performance from the biplane that you had begun to reconstruct were nothing less than utterly amusing. The morning rides would usually go by slowly, but a lot of the time your old plane had a lot to say.

It was a quiet Sunday morning, the wind passing by your little windows that did barely just enough for coverage, when a message, in bold green analog letters, appeared on the blank terminal, just slightly out of your peripheral. It was nothing new, it always tried to spark conversation with the new sentience you had granted it.

Though, it seemed to not realize that looking anywhere else other than in front of you could cost the both of you respectively. You reminded it and after a few moments more of silence, a screeching beep cut through to your ears from your aviation headset.

"I SAID..."

"THIS IS A LOT MORE TAME THAN HOW IT USED TO BE BACK IN THE DAY."

A.. voice. Low, mechanical, and almost barely audible with the amount of choppy fuzz it carried. It sounded like a radio from the 80's, clearly not a sound for sore ears.

"YOU SHOULD HAVE SEEN WHAT IT WAS LIKE BACK THEN."

It was clear it meant well, and it was.. oddly charming. The aircraft always went on about what things were like back then, the things that happened when it was made.