R0-GR / Roger Freemaker (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
thelastb1) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ximilialog2021-12-12 05:54 pm
thelastb1) wrote in ximilialog2021-12-12 05:54 pm
Entry tags:
December
CHARACTERS: Roger, Open
LOCATION: Ximilia Station
DATE: Various days of December
CONTENT: Roger doing various things in December
WARNINGS: A robot taking himself apart and putting himself back together
December 1st: Lend a Hand
[The first place Roger goes after the mission ends is the lab. He’s not entirely sure how long he was without his arm, since he still had it in his dreams. Over a week, probably. It was too long, in any case. Instead of having a left forearm, Roger has a drone following him, with a small dome body, a single eye, and six legs. He places it upon the table, to give himself an extra perspective as he works.
The first thing he ends up doing is replacing both of his eyes. He finds a pair of suitable optical sensors to replace both the eye he used to make the drone and the one still in his head. He removes the metal plate consisting of the upper half of his face, removes his one remaining eye, and hooks up the two new ones, using the drone in order to see what he’s doing. It takes him a few minutes to adjust to the new equipment, but once he does he remarks on the new clarity with which he can see.] Woah. Why didn’t I do this years ago?
[Next comes the more difficult part, which R0-GR expects will take him the entire day: constructing and installing a new arm. He takes several boxes to the table, lays the parts and tools he will need before him, and sets to work. His drone brings him whatever he failed to bring on the first trip, including a fire extinguisher to put out the frequent electrical fires he causes in the process, a canister of motor oil to consume as a beverage and a cup to pour it in whenever he takes a break, and various other parts and tools he had initially neglected to bring.
Eventually, the arm is fully functional. It is slightly different from his right arm and a typical battle droid arm, however, in that the normal droid hand with three digits can separate and slide back to give way to a five-digit hand resembling that of a human skeleton’s. Each finger consists of a set of thin metal sheets arranged like bones, tiny visible wires, motors. and sensors act as muscles and nerves. When not in use, the fingers come together to form a narrow rod which is hidden in the arm, giving the appearance that both arms are symmetrical except for the difference in color.
However, even then his task is not finished. He must paint the new forearm to match the color of the upper arm. And so he gets some cans of orange paint and brushes and makes his new arm look as his old one did, although the humanoid hand remains silver
And after that all is done, he has a finished arm. He stays in tech storage for a while after that, still, mentally adjusting to the new arm.]
December 8th: It’s beginning to look… not like Christmas
[Roger didn’t like the sunlight room before the environmental changes. He didn’t dislike it either, but he didn’t really see the appeal. However, now that there’s snow he absolutely hates the sunlight room. So to deal with it, he spends a good deal of his time one day in the simulation room, simulating the environment he once called home: the orange desert planet of Geonosis. He stands near a rocky canyon, with a city built by the native semi-insectoid species out of underground tunnels. Nearby is a factory that produces other droids of the same kind as R0-GR, its door built into the canyon’s walls.
R0-GR sits on a boulder, looking out at the sun. The scene around him is quiet, peaceful and undisturbed, until he is interrupted at some point by another person entering the simulation room.]
December 10th: And they call him Sandy Claws
[Roger knew nothing about Christmas before arriving on Ximilia, but it seems important here. He slowly gleans what the holiday is from comments and descriptions he hears in passing, as well as the changes to the environment. So he starts on a new project one day, and that’s making cookies.
He spends the day working on a variety of seasonally appropriate glazed cookies. He makes many many batches, and when he starts they’re extremely poorly made and 70% of what he makes ends up burnt, but he slowly improves to a point where he actually makes high quality cookies, although he still burns 70% of them.
Although Roger has no ability to distinguish the burnt ones from the few good cookies, his last few batches end up displayed on trays. Some look like snowflakes, some like pine trees, some like stars, and some depict a very threatening-looking old bearded man in red robes and a wizard hat with claws and a white lightsaber. Anyone who looks at him with confusion regarding those particular cookies will be met with the response:] What? It’s supposed to be that Santa guy I keep hearing about.
December 18th: Strung Along
[Roger often returns to tech storage, even long after his arm has been repaired. Eventually, he takes an electric guitar there, and analyzes the instrument with it laid out on a table. Experimentally, he pushes and plucks on the strings, making various nonmusical sounds. He adjusts and taps various pieces, just trying to understand it. There are no attempts made to actually play the instrument, just observation.
This is how he spends the day, except on the occasions in which someone interrupts by entering the lab, in which case he pulls back from the guitar with his hands in front of him defensively.]
LOCATION: Ximilia Station
DATE: Various days of December
CONTENT: Roger doing various things in December
WARNINGS: A robot taking himself apart and putting himself back together
December 1st: Lend a Hand
[The first place Roger goes after the mission ends is the lab. He’s not entirely sure how long he was without his arm, since he still had it in his dreams. Over a week, probably. It was too long, in any case. Instead of having a left forearm, Roger has a drone following him, with a small dome body, a single eye, and six legs. He places it upon the table, to give himself an extra perspective as he works.
The first thing he ends up doing is replacing both of his eyes. He finds a pair of suitable optical sensors to replace both the eye he used to make the drone and the one still in his head. He removes the metal plate consisting of the upper half of his face, removes his one remaining eye, and hooks up the two new ones, using the drone in order to see what he’s doing. It takes him a few minutes to adjust to the new equipment, but once he does he remarks on the new clarity with which he can see.] Woah. Why didn’t I do this years ago?
[Next comes the more difficult part, which R0-GR expects will take him the entire day: constructing and installing a new arm. He takes several boxes to the table, lays the parts and tools he will need before him, and sets to work. His drone brings him whatever he failed to bring on the first trip, including a fire extinguisher to put out the frequent electrical fires he causes in the process, a canister of motor oil to consume as a beverage and a cup to pour it in whenever he takes a break, and various other parts and tools he had initially neglected to bring.
Eventually, the arm is fully functional. It is slightly different from his right arm and a typical battle droid arm, however, in that the normal droid hand with three digits can separate and slide back to give way to a five-digit hand resembling that of a human skeleton’s. Each finger consists of a set of thin metal sheets arranged like bones, tiny visible wires, motors. and sensors act as muscles and nerves. When not in use, the fingers come together to form a narrow rod which is hidden in the arm, giving the appearance that both arms are symmetrical except for the difference in color.
However, even then his task is not finished. He must paint the new forearm to match the color of the upper arm. And so he gets some cans of orange paint and brushes and makes his new arm look as his old one did, although the humanoid hand remains silver
And after that all is done, he has a finished arm. He stays in tech storage for a while after that, still, mentally adjusting to the new arm.]
December 8th: It’s beginning to look… not like Christmas
[Roger didn’t like the sunlight room before the environmental changes. He didn’t dislike it either, but he didn’t really see the appeal. However, now that there’s snow he absolutely hates the sunlight room. So to deal with it, he spends a good deal of his time one day in the simulation room, simulating the environment he once called home: the orange desert planet of Geonosis. He stands near a rocky canyon, with a city built by the native semi-insectoid species out of underground tunnels. Nearby is a factory that produces other droids of the same kind as R0-GR, its door built into the canyon’s walls.
R0-GR sits on a boulder, looking out at the sun. The scene around him is quiet, peaceful and undisturbed, until he is interrupted at some point by another person entering the simulation room.]
December 10th: And they call him Sandy Claws
[Roger knew nothing about Christmas before arriving on Ximilia, but it seems important here. He slowly gleans what the holiday is from comments and descriptions he hears in passing, as well as the changes to the environment. So he starts on a new project one day, and that’s making cookies.
He spends the day working on a variety of seasonally appropriate glazed cookies. He makes many many batches, and when he starts they’re extremely poorly made and 70% of what he makes ends up burnt, but he slowly improves to a point where he actually makes high quality cookies, although he still burns 70% of them.
Although Roger has no ability to distinguish the burnt ones from the few good cookies, his last few batches end up displayed on trays. Some look like snowflakes, some like pine trees, some like stars, and some depict a very threatening-looking old bearded man in red robes and a wizard hat with claws and a white lightsaber. Anyone who looks at him with confusion regarding those particular cookies will be met with the response:] What? It’s supposed to be that Santa guy I keep hearing about.
December 18th: Strung Along
[Roger often returns to tech storage, even long after his arm has been repaired. Eventually, he takes an electric guitar there, and analyzes the instrument with it laid out on a table. Experimentally, he pushes and plucks on the strings, making various nonmusical sounds. He adjusts and taps various pieces, just trying to understand it. There are no attempts made to actually play the instrument, just observation.
This is how he spends the day, except on the occasions in which someone interrupts by entering the lab, in which case he pulls back from the guitar with his hands in front of him defensively.]
18th
When she walks in and sees Roger flinch away from... something... she just regards him and says flatly, ] We have got to stop meeting like this.
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I'm not working on anything that important, and it's a public space.
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[ She recognizes the instrument from seeing Newt with one, but she doesn't know the name of it. ]
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[There's a pause, then he looks up at Elthree.] I want to try to figure out how to play it.
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I think you might need some other equipment. Newt always seems to have his plugged into something. A sonic amplifier of some kind, maybe.
8th
No fucking way.
[ she laughs in delight. the only desert planet to capable of evoking stronger reaction would be tatooine, but geonosis is up there.
her shoes kick up orange dirt as she turns around, wanting to take it all in. it may be a simulation, but it's the closest to the real thing anyone not from that galaxy is likely to get. hollywood studios, eat your heart out.
so excited is she that she does not immediately consider who could be responsible for the simulation. it's not like old ben was ever real chatty with luke. even having met elthree, her brain does not make the connection with the lone battle droid framed against the sunset.
which is why she skips right over, phone in hand, to take a selfie of herself and roger. smile. ]
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What are you doing!?
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You're not part of the sim?!
[ gwen brings one hand (the one not holding her phone) down to clutch her chest. black threads weaving independently of air or gravity lift from her skin. gwen takes a deep breath, trying to reassure venom by bringing down her heart rate. ]
Oh, man, you need a sign or something. You nearly gave me a heart attack.
no subject
I nearly gave you a heart attack? I mean, obviously I don't have any cardiovascular health concerns, but that doesn't mean you can just surprise me whenever you want! And what do you mean a sign? Just because I'm a battle droid means I need some big label to enjoy a Geonosian sunset without someone jumping out at me with... whatever that is? [he gestures with his blaster at the phone.] I don't even look like a normal battle droid! [With the mismatched arm and the darker colored torso and the Freemaker symbol on his back.]
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[ she turns the phone over so the screen faces roger. she cycles through some of the photos she took of the planet, starting with a distant shot of roger himself against the sunset. ]
Now, can you please stop waving that around? I’d rather not test if the battle droids’ aim improved.
[ which is doubtful, considering spider-sense is real quiet, but venom is still antsy, and gwen isn’t a fan either of waving guns even when they aren’t directly aimed at her. ]
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Wait. You know what battle droids are. [It was an assumption he had already made, but he is only now realising the significance of what it means. Or at least, what he assumes it means: that Gwen is from his own galaxy.]
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Uh, yeah. Kind of hard not to recognize a B1. [ #nerd
around gwen’s hands and her neck where they had first appeared, venom’s black tendrils filter back into her skin.
she tips her head. ]
Oh, shit. [ belatedly, realization sinks in. she laughs. ] You’re an actual B1. Okay. Oh, man. Can I hug you? Can I take a picture with you? Can I ask you, like, a million questions?
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[The reaction, to Roger, seems like it's from seeing a Clone Wars battle droid still active in 34 ABY than from seeing one in real life as opposed to fiction. But it seems respectful, at least, so he decides to oblige.] But, uh, sure. Okay.
But why ask questions when could read it all from my autobiography: Fr- [He tries to reach for something on his transmission pack and finds nothing.] Wait. Someone's borrowing that.
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[ battle droids can write? ]
( 18th )
Where'd you get that sweet guitar?
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[ not really what he'd expect a robot to ask for. ]
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... yes.
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So you had a guitar before coming here?
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I tried getting into some musical instruments, a little bit, but I couldn't find any teachers. They said I didn't have the right kind of hands. [He waves his hands in the air, both with only two fingers and a thumb each. However, as he continues, his left hand seems to splint into two and give way to a five-fingered, humanoid metal hand.] But after I got here, I had to get a new arm, so I thought I'd try again.
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Huh. You're right. I guess the only instrument I could think of was drums and even then I'm not sure.
Did someone fix it up for you here?
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[ less hassle, less needing to go through the american health care. ]
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Just one?
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So you wouldn't trade it for anything?
10th
Drift was curious but didn't want to hurt Roger's feelings. He'd have to be delicate with his words. ]
How much have you heard?
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I think you're missing a few key details.
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Like what?
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[The realization that he has completely missed the most basic idea of Santa slowly dawns on Roger.] I'm going to have to make a new batch.
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[ Drift said as he pulled a couple more baking sheets off a nearby shelf and set them down,. ]
That you're on the right path but it doesn't hurt to sit and listen. A little observation and no small amount of questions always work best when learning something new.
10th
Huh? [--Oh. Right. Very creative.] Yes, yes...
[But now on to the actual reason for Sebastian's judgement:] Your pardon, but might the ovens be malfunctioning somehow? [What's with all these burnt cookies? The smell is atrocious. What a waste of resources.]
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Ah, well... [Sebastian cants his head to hopefully get a better look at said ovens. No smoke, no visible flames, hopefully?] it rather seemed as if something was burning. Is everything under control?
[Um. S....ir? What even is the proper form of address for automata.]