[ Do you want to kiss a robot? To feel cold metal non-lips against yours?

Of course you do. And here's your opportunity!

Threepio can mostly be found in Sector 2 nowadays, in the library or the education center or the computer lab, generally "lending a hand" (e.g., being completely unhelpful) to anyone unlucky enough to meet his eye. He just wants to be your friend!

He's not sure about this kissing thing. ]

[Lovely day for being in any open, common area of the dome, isn't it? Of course there is a chance of kissing bot, but it's always something in the underwater prison.]

(OOC: Check out the OOC post for details. Pucker up! Edit: Links for those with loading problems!)

[ Panic has long passed into curiosity for Kaylee and her new predicament. Sure she's been kidnapped, but: ]

This Acumen feller said something about a beach. With-- real sand and all? Don't think my heart could take it, bein' kidnapped and then lied to about a beach.

[ And curiouser... ]

Hope it's all right I don't have a swimming outfit...

[Sometime after sun down, once Helix has successfully planted his little gift and escaped Axel. Helix decides it's high time to get the show on the road. The red head is probably still looking for him, so he's in a nondescript area for this. He's got a small window of time, best get the actual threat out before they find his little bomb. So Marina, you're greeted with the familiar blue visage.]

Greetings Marina. I have a public service announcement. [He seems serious yet very nonchalant.]

If I were you, I'd stay a good... [Pause to consider.] 200 feet--give or take--away from the Defense Force Headquarters. Unless you want to end up in tiny chunks splattered all over the sector.

There is currently a bomb hidden within and set to go off at midnight. [Which is only a few hours from now.]

You can thank me later for the heads up.

Have a nice day--Night--Whatever.

[A small, Wiley sort of smile before the feed shuts off. And he's making a point to move to a new location, just in case he can be traced like one would a cell phone call. He'll have to keep moving unless he ditches his headset, he's thought about it, but decides not to for one reason or another. He doesn't want to be caught too easily, but he doesn't really care if he is. It's not like there's any real threat or that he'll talk anyway.]

[Making a public phone call, what is this nonsense. It seemed like the better option though, as opposed to filtering. Here we go.]

Hi. [Good start.]

I'm Dr Spencer Reid and I'm looking for either Suzaku or Lacus with the Defense Force.
I'm interested in joining. Well, re-joining, I suppose.

((ooc ETA: a quick reminder that there's a PERMISSIONS POST up on his journal! Please fill it out at your leisure!))

[The feed opens up with a view of the blue teen. He sits in silence, staring at the comm as if staring through your soul, it's nothing short of unnerving and coldly calculating. He takes a casual drag off of a cigarette and it's plain to see on his face he hasn't slept much, if at all. But he seems relaxed at least. After a few uncomfortable moments he speaks up.]

I'm bored. Humor me.

If you were going to be executed tomorrow, what would you do? Ya know, your last few hours alive before Acumen puts you down like a dog.

[A pause, casting his eyes off in thought, or maybe he's waiting for you? The cigarette disappears from view as he breathes out a lungful of smoke.]

I know one thing's for sure, I'd kill myself first. Like hell I'd give them the satisfaction of taking my life. [It wasn't really answering his own question, more musing to himself.]

Hey, Helix. I'm gonna go ahead an' put yer stuff in th'bedroom, okay? [ That would be Aidan suddenly walking into the room. Helix's eyes widen slightly, shoulders tensing as if he's been caught doing something he shouldn't. There's some fumbling with the device...]

Shi--! Aida--[And he shuts the feed off abruptly.]

APPARENTLY THEY LET JUST ANYONE TEACH A CLASS AROUND HERE.

... EXCLUDING PEOPLE WHO ARE DANGERS TO THEMSELVES OR OTHERS, I GUESS.

[ pause. Um, what is he supposed to say...? Have some uncertain wibbling - he's really not good at the whole communication thing. ]

SO, I'M TEACHING A COURSE CALLED TECH SHOP I, WHICH STARTS THIS AFTERNOON. IT'S GOING TO BE ABOUT BASIC PROGRAMMING AND ELECTRONICS, AND THE FINAL PROJECT IS BUILDING A MINIATURE ROBOT. THERE ARE SOME PREREQUISITES FOR PEOPLE COMING FROM LOW-TECHNOLOGY WORLDS, BUT IF YOU'VE USED A COMPUTER OF ANY KIND BEFORE COMING HERE AND ARE OF AVERAGE HUMAN INTELLIGENCE THEN YOU'LL PROBABLY PICK IT UP.

[ ... He thinks that has it just about covered? Hopefully people will come. Um... ]

IF NO ONE COMES I'LL PROBABLY JUST SIT IN THE CLASSROOM AND BUILD AN ARMY OF TINY ROBOTS, ANYWAY.

[ So you might as well attend, because maybe then he'll give you an important position in his New Order once he has conquered Marina with matchbox-sized robots. ]

[ Wandering around the snowy park? There are two things to look out for: (1) don't trip over the bright orange ropes that close off a large open area, (2) take cover and watch for a stray snowball, and (3) ... you know, you might want to join in for this is a Snowball Fight.

Only guidelines: no weapons, no head shots, no stuffing snow down someone's mouth, collar or anywhere else uncomfortable. Play to your heart's content! Spoiler: there's no winner.

Warm drinks and snacks are served in a nearby tent (ah, thank goodness for space heaters!), while towels and blankets are also available. You might want to take advantage of the snow as well -- make snowmen, snow angels, your own sculpture as you wind down~ ]

( --- OOC Guidelines; PLEASE READ --- )
 

[The transmission starts, light dim and musty like the books lining the walls behind the young man that appears on the screen. He seems confused, nervous even, eyes darting from one end of the room to the other and tongue flicking out every so often to lick at his lips. A nervous tic, perhaps, just like his voice grows more rapid with every sentence, pronunciation remaining surprisingly clear despite his fervor.

The situation is familiar. He's trained for this. He's been here before and although he doesn't know who he's talking to, he's talking to someone. Keeping an open feed gives him a greater chance of someone hearing him than not talking at all, and so he talks. Someone will hear him.]

Acumen. First used in the 1530's, the word stems from the latin acuere, to sharpen, hence giving it the meaning of sharpness and in extent shrewdness, keen insight. Another synonym is "the ability to judge well" which alludes that the person using this word as their moniker believes themselves to be the ultimate judge. This in turn points to some sort of God complex with the creator of this AI, although not your typical narcissistic personality disorder - by using the construct as his or her spokesperson the individual behind it can remain hidden much like the Wizard behind the curtain.

And just like in that story the suspect may be feeling inadequate and insecure about him or herself, thus hiding behind a construct in order to keep their appearance flawless - it's the only way they can act as an absolute judge without being hindered by their humanity. A similar logic lies behind the hoods of executioners in the past - by making them virtually faceless the guilt of taking another persons life or in this case their freedom can be absolved into a disembodied concept of justice…

[Pause. Brows furrowed in thought he worries at his bottom lip. This isn't helping. He's not even sure who he's talking to, to be perfectly honest, but that has never stopped him before and if anything doing the math may help clear his head.]

One point six zero nine kilometers under the surface… that translates to roughly a mile. Pressure equals depth times fifteen divided by thirty-three… so at 5280 feet that would result in a pressure of 2400 psi which in turn equates to over a ton per square inch. Right now the limits for commercial diving is roughly at 500 feet, one tenth of the assumed depth we're at now…

[This would be a good time for someone to interrupt. He'll go on forever if you don't.]

[OOC He's restrained and as such bots will take him away to the salt mines work before long! I'd also really appreciate if those interested could fill in this PERMISSIONS POST so we can get some profiling done here.]

[ On the video screen: an expression-less gold-plated robot, who adjusts the focus of the video several times, fussily. ]

Hello. Hello, is this thing on? [ He taps it. ] All right. [ He straightens proudly. ] I am C-3PO, human-cyborg relations. I am a... recent arrival to this planet and only seek to be of assistance to the residents here. I am fluent in over six billion forms of communication and would be glad to assist in issues of protocol and diplomacy.

[ And then he sighs -- or at least, it sounds like a sigh, even though he doesn't have real lungs. ] Oh, what's the use? I'm sure I'll be in pieces before morning.

[ On that despairing note, he turns the video off. ]