[OTA] Man of Steel, Pray and Kneel

[serialskiller]

Who: Murderbot and Friends
When: Mid-November
Where: A little bit of everywhere
Summary: Snacktime, Naptime, Recess
Warnings: None yet

1. But I gave you life! [Buffet and other restaurants]
A body must be sustained, or performance reliability drops. Murderbot knows this.

Food has flavor. Murderbot also knows this.

Look, early on in the stomach-having experience, Murderbot found dinosaur chicken nuggets and macaroni and cheese and declared those 'safe' foods and generally rejected most of everything else on the ship because...because it wasn't ready to expand yet. Something was safe and something became familiar and something soon became a comfort food. But it's been a few months of this. Murderbot is now ready to start trying new things.

It's not hard to tell that's what's going on, either, as the cyborg begins loading plates at the buffet with tiny sample servings of everything, or taking things at Mikabo one at a time in single plate portions, or even visiting Scoops to try a single spoonful of everything available (except the long pig).

Perhaps you can suggest combinations of food or offer context for some of what's going on (like that gravy goes on potatoes instead of being spooned directly into one's mouth). Or perhaps you just want to watch its experiments.


2. What else could you do? [Pool Deck, Night]
The stars are a lie. The stars have always been a lie.

But on a cool breezy summer night (they're all cool breezy summer nights), lying out on a deck chair under them and staring up isn't not a little bit relaxing.

Murderbot isn't flying any of its drones right now. It's not paying attention to everyone and everything around, just for this moment. It's here wholly in itself, eyeing the universeless sky, and feeling very small. Which is okay. Sometimes small is a good thing. Sometimes you want to wrap the blackness around yourself like a blanket and just be.

Of course, if left alone for too long, eventually its eyes slip closed. There may be a soft sound heard from the cyborg, if one walks past. A low, rhythmic rumble paired with a hushed little puff. Murderbot...is snoring.


3. To do what was right! [Around the Ship, previous CR]
The time has come for a change, a subtle shift in perception and a very tiny assertion of preference. If your character is someone in the habit of referring to Murderbot as Rin, expect to be approached at some point in this month.

"Do you have a moment?" It sounds a little uncertain, its posture an apology.


4. I'm perfect, are you? [Wildcard]
darkersolstice or darkersolstice#9463 to plot

Comments

[not_the_last]

She considers that, and nods after a moment. "It does seem ... I don't know. Complicated. There are other SecUnits, are there not?"

[serialskiller]

"No others here. And you won't mistake any others for me. I am two centimeters shorter than any other SecUnit."

...yes, surely she'll notice that. Surely.

[not_the_last]

A rueful smile. "I'm afraid from my vantage point, most taller people seem to be about the same height ... It's true, though, you are the only one here. I can't help feeling that I wouldn't care to be called 'human' even if I were the only human in a given place, but that hardly means you must feel the same way."

[serialskiller]

"I have a name that I call myself. But it's private--it's for me. SecUnit is something everyone else can call me, and Rin...again, that's just an alias. It's from one of the characters in my favorite serial drama. It's not for me."

It shrugs slightly. "SecUnit's what I've always been called. Sometimes with a number attached if I've been around others."

[not_the_last]

"And you prefer that," she says, tentatively -- almost a question. "To anything that seems more like a name, but ... less like you?"

[serialskiller]

"Yes." She just found the right words, hit some secret target that it hadn't known was there.

"I'm always going to be a SecUnit. No matter what else happens to me, however else I am changed, that's me. I'm a SecUnit."

[not_the_last]

"Then I'm glad you told me," she says, with a little extra firmness. "And I'll call you what you want to be called."

[serialskiller]

"Thanks." It nods, and then tosses around for a subject change. "How have you been, since...?"

[not_the_last]

"Oh ..." Her firm confidence falters a little, and she summons up a smile. "A little better. The painting did help, I think."

[serialskiller]

"I'm glad. Let me know anytime you want to hang out and paint. And Peter Smith has chalk pastels, which are also really fun to use for art. He let me use them, the other day."

It still has those pictures. It's trying to decide what to do with them.

[not_the_last]

"Peter Smith," she repeats, "I don't think I've met him. Do you think you might like to introduce us?"

[serialskiller]

"I could do that, yeah. He's...interesting. While I was drawing, he kept asking questions about what I was drawing and why. He pries, but he does it because he wants to help."

[not_the_last]

"I've known people like that." A small smile. "There are worse traits to have, I suppose."

[serialskiller]

"Yeah. And it feels like a pretty common trait aboard the ship in general, so getting used to it's the only thing to do." But it's not really just complaining. There's definitely a bit of a smile there.

[not_the_last]

She notices the touch of smile, and it makes her own grow a little.

"I've also started practicing with the sword again," she offers. "That's something I haven't had much time to do at home recently, but ... I seem to have nothing but time, here."

[serialskiller]

"A lot of people here use swords. You're in good company, lots of potential training partners."

It could almost be jealous, because who wants to train in 'get bodied by a 65% inorganic juggernaut with pew-pew lasers'?

[not_the_last]

(Cassandra has known at least one person who would probably love that. Unfortunately, Grog Strongjaw isn't here.)

"Yes," she agrees. "Possibly we can compare styles. I imagine there's a fairly wide range."

[serialskiller]

"I'm sure. I don't really know enough about fighting with a sword to recognize them. I tend to either use energy weapons or to barrel through things directly."

Murderbot as a Fighter (Arcane Archer)/Barbarian multiclass sure is a thing to imagine.

[not_the_last]

IT SURE IS

"Energy weapons," she repeats curiously. "How do those work?"

[serialskiller]

It pulls up the sleeve of its hoodie and engages the weapon, showing her what it looks like.

"It fires a bolt of energy instead of a powered projectile."

[not_the_last]

"I've seen bolts of energy used in combat before ... But your weapon isn't magic."

Her tone indicates that she's not at all sure of that last.

[serialskiller]

"No, it's science. I don't understand the full workings of it, but my world doesn't have magic."

It does have alien technology, which gets close, but only in ways with catastrophically bad results.

[not_the_last]

"That's still so strange to me. Like a world that doesn't have ... rain, or sand, or something like that. I can understand it being rare, but not there at all?" She shakes her head.

[serialskiller]

"It's only in stories. Works of fiction--fantasy serials. And honestly, that's for the best. People can't even use science without horrible ethic violations, like creating sentient, sapient beings solely for the purpose of using them as slaves."

You know, like itself.

[not_the_last]

Cassandra opens her mouth, pauses, closes her mouth.

"Given some of what I've seen magic used for," she says, a touch subdued, "I can't say you're wrong."