IC Inbox

[littletonoidea]

"This is the audio log of Communications Officer Doug Eiffel of the-- previously of the U.S.S Hephaestus, leave a message and I'll see if I can bear to drag myself away from whatever utterly engaging task I must be doing to not notice my comms--"

BZZZZZZZ

Action | Text | Voice | Video

Comments

[littletonoidea]

Eiffel gives her a raised eyebrow, from his weird contorted croissant shape. "The hell's that supposed to mean?"

[cactusy]

Look, she's just saying, if she had a nickel for every time someone she knew was a little too into their robot friend, she'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it's happened twice.

"You'd get along with a friend of mine from home, that's all."

In retrospect, it's surprising that she's never heard Root call the Machine "babe".

[littletonoidea]

He narrows both eyes as he flips to look at her properly. "Cut that out, Cupid. Hera's my best friend back home, literally in the entire galaxy."

[cactusy]

"I stand by my assessment," she murmurs. "Does it talk to everyone, or just you?"

[littletonoidea]

"She," he corrects sternly. "Can talk to anyone, but this isn't her AI, just her voice. But it's nice having a familiar face around, you know?"

For a given value thereof. Since... AI.

"Or whatever."

[cactusy]

Shaw laughs suddenly, though it's neither a mocking sound, nor a genuinely amused one. She. Of course. Of fucking course.

"Sorry," she says after a moment, once the impulse fades. "I'm not-- laughing at you."

[littletonoidea]

He gives her a dry half-smile as he quirks one eyebrow.

"Well, it's you, me and this brick wall you've built between us, so I'm not seeing many other clowns at this rodeo."

[cactusy]

"It's the situation."

She floats a little higher, and her nose bumps into the ceiling; frowning, she pushes off of it with just one finger, giving herself a few more inches of room.

[littletonoidea]

"What, me being best friends with the chatbot next door is just the saddest thing you've ever seen?" He looks back at his radio, letting the gentle movement of his momentum rotate him on the spot. "Can't blame you, it looks pretty bad from the outside. But... I dunno, it's still true. You live inside of someone for a couple years, you really get to know their ins and outs."

[cactusy]

"No. I have a friend who does the same thing at home." She inhales and exhales slowly, feeling the nothingness within and without. "Down to the pronoun thing. Personally, I don't get how you can even tell."

[littletonoidea]

"Well," he drawls. "She asked me to. Hey, Tiny Hera?"

"Yes, officer Eiffel?"

"Play back the log from daaaayyyy... oh, six-oh-seven!"

"Certainly, officer Eiffel. One moment."

There's a few whirs and clicks from the server tower in the corner, and then--

The gentle bing-bong of an announcement over the speakers.

[cactusy]

Shaw goes quiet, listening to the log for as long as it plays, no matter how long that ends up being. When it finally ends, she's silent for a few moments longer before saying, "And you just... have that. Lying around. Do you have logs of every day?"

[littletonoidea]

Eiffel lets the whole episode run, and he's completely silent for it, but not... unreactive. The longer Hera talks the more a quiet melancholy starts to settle on his shoulders, and his fiddling hands still; and when Minkowski starts talking a heavy smile flickers briefly across his features.

When the log ends, he's still and quiet. Until Shaw talks, and then he sniffs, abruptly, and shifts his shoulder so he can wipe his face on his sleeve. He's not crying, he's fine. "Uh-- yeah, pretty much. It's my job, y'know? Communications Officer, switching on the TV to pick them up on channel 2. I recorded all my outgoings, right up until I got shot into deep space."

[cactusy]

"I really don't know what to do when people cry," she warns him, just in case he's used to being comforted or something. "You listen to them a lot?"