Jabonicus
Inactive Member
Already she was being offered a room, something she had not yet considered. From what she recalled of the YSS Kaiyō II, she held a room with others, though the number of times she actually spent the night cycle in that bunk equaled exactly one. During the time there, due to her mechanical form and programming, she never had to sleep, and not wanting to feel useless or a burden, she spent the nights patiently tidying up the medical bay, often with no one but other medics going in and out during the day anyway, save for specific cases where she was brought about solely to help with some bizarre medical scenario that training did little to prepare for.
She was the one in need of assistance once. She did not like to think of it, as it all ultimately turned out to be little more than the overworked stress of bothers and unresolved issues building up to a crux. It was a waste of worry for the others, and a waste of resources for the ship.
"I'll consider your offer." She began, though she was quickly cut off by the summons to the Captain. She was about to inform the Warrant Officer that he may be asked for assistance in repairing her body should heavy damage come to it in a way that was difficult for her to fix. She imagined such circumstances would be rare, but losing one or both hands would easily make repairs difficult, and a loss of optics would slow the process enough for help to need help. Thankfully such events had not yet occurred, though she had once been in a Mindy that had been shelled by some strange electromagnetic field like a lobster cracked from its shell.
"I look forward to speaking to both of you later." She concluded, turning abruptly, sharply, and with clean precision, she began to walk through the halls, each step carefully measured against the downloaded map in her head. As she turned corner, rising up a flight of stairs, a strange Nekovalkyrja passed her, tears filling her eyes despite a joyous, restrained look covering the rest of her face. Noteworthy, of course, though she didn't know the girl, and she had a place to be.
She strode into the Captain's Suite with the same trained stride that graced parades during public events. Perfect, without any form of hitch or favoritism of a leg, each twitch of muscle refined and intentional. Coming to a clinical halt in front of Ise Katae. Her body, rigid and proper, snapped to a respectful pose, giving a deep, inhuman bow to the officer. "Good afternoon, Taisa. Jôtô Heisho TraumaPatcher Care Seven Six 76-6165-3411 reporting for interview as ordered." She listed the numbers like they weren't a name, rapid-fire without breath, barely a pause between numbers, as if they were an unnecessary serial number on some part they had an excessive amount of.
Her body, the way her facial plates were stiff like a statue found in a museum, the way she moved and spoke, even the cadence of her voice-
They didn't feel genuine. They looked and felt like a mask; like some distant figure commanded a metal puppet rather than showing up in person. There was nothing inherently wrong in the motions, they were all far beyond proper, but something was clearly missing.
She was the one in need of assistance once. She did not like to think of it, as it all ultimately turned out to be little more than the overworked stress of bothers and unresolved issues building up to a crux. It was a waste of worry for the others, and a waste of resources for the ship.
"I'll consider your offer." She began, though she was quickly cut off by the summons to the Captain. She was about to inform the Warrant Officer that he may be asked for assistance in repairing her body should heavy damage come to it in a way that was difficult for her to fix. She imagined such circumstances would be rare, but losing one or both hands would easily make repairs difficult, and a loss of optics would slow the process enough for help to need help. Thankfully such events had not yet occurred, though she had once been in a Mindy that had been shelled by some strange electromagnetic field like a lobster cracked from its shell.
"I look forward to speaking to both of you later." She concluded, turning abruptly, sharply, and with clean precision, she began to walk through the halls, each step carefully measured against the downloaded map in her head. As she turned corner, rising up a flight of stairs, a strange Nekovalkyrja passed her, tears filling her eyes despite a joyous, restrained look covering the rest of her face. Noteworthy, of course, though she didn't know the girl, and she had a place to be.
She strode into the Captain's Suite with the same trained stride that graced parades during public events. Perfect, without any form of hitch or favoritism of a leg, each twitch of muscle refined and intentional. Coming to a clinical halt in front of Ise Katae. Her body, rigid and proper, snapped to a respectful pose, giving a deep, inhuman bow to the officer. "Good afternoon, Taisa. Jôtô Heisho TraumaPatcher Care Seven Six 76-6165-3411 reporting for interview as ordered." She listed the numbers like they weren't a name, rapid-fire without breath, barely a pause between numbers, as if they were an unnecessary serial number on some part they had an excessive amount of.
Her body, the way her facial plates were stiff like a statue found in a museum, the way she moved and spoke, even the cadence of her voice-
They didn't feel genuine. They looked and felt like a mask; like some distant figure commanded a metal puppet rather than showing up in person. There was nothing inherently wrong in the motions, they were all far beyond proper, but something was clearly missing.
