open | I'm passing sleeping cities, fading by degrees

[droide]

CHARACTERS: L3-37 and YOU!
LOCATION: All around the station
DATE: Throughout the beginning of November
CONTENT: Getting acclimated
WARNINGS: None, will edit as necessary

Elthree has a lot to come to terms with, in her first few days aboard Ximilia station. She's grateful that her body has been restored, but a bit put off that it apparently took several decades to do (if what Finn said about the Empire having fallen over thirty years prior is true). Most of the people here wouldn't know a droid if they saw one, so when they do see one, they don't quite know how to react. Which is all fine by Elthree, as she doesn't quite know how to react around them, either. She takes to wandering the station, seeing what she can do to pass the time.

Kitchen

Elthree doesn't need to eat. And she doesn't know how to cook, so she isn't about to be roped into any kind of kitchen duties. Being told by organics to perform a task, even if it's a task that the organics themselves are also performing, hits too close to home and feels too much like being conscripted into servitude like her droid brethren. This is a life she fought to free herself from. She isn't going to go back to it that easily.

But, she's bored. So she hangs around the kitchen anyway, giving color commentary on the people who are in there, trying to make a decent meal for themselves.

"You're really going to eat that?" She intones, laying the skepticism on thick. "Alright... It's your fleshy organic body that you're seeking to ruin. Don't let me stop you."

Control Room

When she's not bothering people in the southeast wing, Elthree makes her way to the closed doors at the entrance to the north wing, poking and prodding at the controls in a futile attempt to get them to open. This station's tech isn't compatible with her hardware, so she can't just slice in and override the locks, but it bothers her that there is a whole third of the station that they do not have access to. So, desperate attempts are made, and though she fails every time, she does not give up trying.

Simulation Room

As stated previously, this station isn't built for Elthree to be able to slice into its systems and interface with them directly. It's somewhat frustrating, having to go about programming a simulation the old fashioned way like any boring old organic. But, program it she does, because she's feeling rather stressed and needs something familiar to relax.

Should anyone walk into the simulation room while she's there, they will enter into a dark room with a hologram projection of an enormous spiral galaxy. From where Elthree stands at the room controls, she zooms in and out on various sections of the map, pulling up hyperspace routes between various star systems, immersing herself in memories of her favorite trips aboard the Millennium Falcon. If anyone does walk in, she won't say anything for a long moment, but if they step too far into the room, interrupting her quiet reflection, she'll greet them with a brusque and impatient, "Did you want anything?"

Lab/Tech Storage

Ostensibly speaking, Elthree is welcome to a room in the south west wing, just like any other of her organic crewmates. But the idea of having a bed to call her own when she doesn't really need one is something that is unfamiliar to Elthree, and she still has this lingering feeling that she's overstepping, and if she does finally claim one of the rooms as her own, someone will come up and take it away from her.

So, in an effort to avoid losing something she's never been allowed to have before, she puts off claiming a room for as long as she can. Instead, she stays awake while the rest of the station sleeps, keeping herself busy reading through various bits of other crew members' research in the laboratory. When she does need to power down and recharge, she does so in the tech storage area. She's somewhat ashamed of this, yes, because she knows that relegating herself to storage like she's just a piece of cargo goes against her efforts towards droid equality, but it's better than having a room taken away from her, she rationalizes. On the off chance that anyone needs something from tech storage in the wee hours of the morning, they'll find Elthree's inert form propped up in a corner, her optic dimly pulsing, until she becomes aware of movement nearby and it brightens again.

"Oh, I-- I didn't think anyone would come in here."

Wildcard

[ Want to plot something else? HMU @ millennialfalcon or ©hris#1234! Will match prose or brackets, so feel free to do either. ]

Comments

[winscenario]

"You don't seem like you'd like stuffy, either."

Just a feeling he gets, based mostly on the fondness that's clear in her tone. It's the kind of fondness and loyalty that he can only hope to inspire with the members of his own significantly bigger crew.

"Sounds a little lonely," he observes. "Is that what you do, then? Just transport cargo around?"