“Sooo… you’re just a disembodied voice that can answer me any time I need it?”
Settling into the Ximilia doesn’t take Degar as long as he’d initially thought. A lot of what’s available on the station isn’t nearly so outlandish if you had the right kind of imagination, and as a songwriter he’d like to think he had plenty of that. It helps that plenty of the technology is convenient, enabling the part of himself that always liked to focus on literally anything else but, say, chores. (The dishwasher, for example? Genius. Name a little too on-the-nose, but a blessing nonetheless)
Still, there were a small handful of things he found himself struggling to properly process.
Yes, comes the aforementioned disembodied voice straight into his earpiece. The feminine notes of the voice along with its monotonous delivery scratches at something in Degar’s brain he can’t reach, unnerving him.
“But, what is it that you do, exactly?”
I maintain the integrity of the Ximilia, run scanners for the scattered orbs, and compile relevant information for the planets you would have to infiltrate to obtain them.
“Those are all important things, yeah,” Degar hums. The feeling of being humbled is not an unfamiliar one for the bard, so he takes it in stride. “What else? Do you… I don’t know, do you hang out with the rest of the crew?”
There is a pause. Hang out?
Degar grins. “Yeah! Like — we’re all here for the indefinite future, right? Wouldn’t it better suit your needs if you got to know us all?”
I have obtained all your personal information through my scans upon your arrival.
“O…kay. That’s not exactly what I mean, but–” He starts to wander down the hallway, gesturing as he goes. “So, I’m not talking about our birthdays and blood-types. What I mean is … you know, our likes, our dislikes. Our skills and dreams! We should learn all about yours, too.”
I have none of that. I am an AI.
“Still not entirely sure what that is, but all right, fine. Nevermind that. Isn’t it still a good idea to be around one another? To strengthen our bonds?”
This time, the pause feels more judgmental. We are all different beings who have come together for a solitary purpose, though our reasons are not all the same. Strong bonds do not determine success.
“Well yeah, but…” His feet come to a stop as he flounders a little, suddenly unsure of himself. “We’re all supposed to be a team… right?”
Another pause. Yes.
“And don’t teams prosper when they like each other?”
No pause this time. Yes.
Slowly, Degar finds his way back to a grin. “Hey… Olivia?”
Yes?
“Can I call you Olive?”
...Yes, Degar.
As the memory fades, so does the shard of the orb; it will reappear in the North Wing, joining the other shards there, and touching it there will trigger no new memories.
no subject
“Sooo… you’re just a disembodied voice that can answer me any time I need it?”
Settling into the Ximilia doesn’t take Degar as long as he’d initially thought. A lot of what’s available on the station isn’t nearly so outlandish if you had the right kind of imagination, and as a songwriter he’d like to think he had plenty of that. It helps that plenty of the technology is convenient, enabling the part of himself that always liked to focus on literally anything else but, say, chores. (The dishwasher, for example? Genius. Name a little too on-the-nose, but a blessing nonetheless)
Still, there were a small handful of things he found himself struggling to properly process.
Yes, comes the aforementioned disembodied voice straight into his earpiece. The feminine notes of the voice along with its monotonous delivery scratches at something in Degar’s brain he can’t reach, unnerving him.
“But, what is it that you do, exactly?”
I maintain the integrity of the Ximilia, run scanners for the scattered orbs, and compile relevant information for the planets you would have to infiltrate to obtain them.
“Those are all important things, yeah,” Degar hums. The feeling of being humbled is not an unfamiliar one for the bard, so he takes it in stride. “What else? Do you… I don’t know, do you hang out with the rest of the crew?”
There is a pause. Hang out?
Degar grins. “Yeah! Like — we’re all here for the indefinite future, right? Wouldn’t it better suit your needs if you got to know us all?”
I have obtained all your personal information through my scans upon your arrival.
“O…kay. That’s not exactly what I mean, but–” He starts to wander down the hallway, gesturing as he goes. “So, I’m not talking about our birthdays and blood-types. What I mean is … you know, our likes, our dislikes. Our skills and dreams! We should learn all about yours, too.”
I have none of that. I am an AI.
“Still not entirely sure what that is, but all right, fine. Nevermind that. Isn’t it still a good idea to be around one another? To strengthen our bonds?”
This time, the pause feels more judgmental. We are all different beings who have come together for a solitary purpose, though our reasons are not all the same. Strong bonds do not determine success.
“Well yeah, but…” His feet come to a stop as he flounders a little, suddenly unsure of himself. “We’re all supposed to be a team… right?”
Another pause. Yes.
“And don’t teams prosper when they like each other?”
No pause this time. Yes.
Slowly, Degar finds his way back to a grin. “Hey… Olivia?”
Yes?
“Can I call you Olive?”
...Yes, Degar.
As the memory fades, so does the shard of the orb; it will reappear in the North Wing, joining the other shards there, and touching it there will trigger no new memories.