UESP Forums

How dare you wat me little missy. You don't have the rank.

Also fyi to clear up confusion I was making a reference to Contact with Jodi Foster. Most my references are to 80s/90s movies.

Whatchu gonna do about it?

I did actually figure that out. Never underestimate the power of the Google Image Search.

Slowly remove a 100 calories from your dietary meals, leading to no decline in productivity but possibly skimming off a year or two of a lifespan in the long run. Or at least, that's what I would do

It's what Ce-T would of called 'passive aggressiveness incarnate', if she was here to comment, of course
--
Oops, pardon. Got sidetracked a bit. Make a left at this corridor and.. Gosh darn it.. Hold up, I gotta fix something really quick. BRB

Right, which one of you curs tried to unleash me on the universe? I told you to stop summoning me! I only do "Doovah, [&@%!], Dooovaah!" And destroy things when I feel like it. Oh and stop emailing me about death stars. No, i will not lend you one just to destroy a planet because it obscures the view. Move the damn ship out of the damn way.

Cassandras 1&2
And what exactly is it that you've got to fix?
*dash off, making a left at that corridor*

I'll tell ya, these service droids are quite the hassle. Ain't a darn drop of smarts in that motor oil brain of theirs. Making a damn mess of the place like a darn ole.. Oh.. Wait, I'm terribly sorry okay? Pleas... Alright I'm back. Had to suddenly assign a fragment mid-conversation

Honestly last time I leave an incompetent fragment to a task alone Even had to clean up his shortcomings. I swear, it's like directing a symphony of sponges sometimes. Musically inclined, they are not.(And the service droids are no better). Plus he's always too nice.. Even to the droids.. It's weird

And look.. He even let the service droids partially deconstruct the tiles without placing them back. Speaking of.. Wait.. Why are you two running? No, stop that. You'll trip on something like a power cable.

Cassandra #1:
Don't let anyone catch you saying stuff like that. They could misinterpret it and think that you actually care about the crew.

But really now, you say that a fragment of the AI is nice? To droids even? How curious.


Cassandra #2:
As for why we were running, why must you be so suspicious all the time?

Touché Not really. If I cut off a piece of your rain, cultivated it, and allowed it to develop it's own identity. Would you expect it to be identical to yourself? Or a skewed or exaggerated perception of your preexisting traits

It's just another 'piece' of the 'whole', even if it differs so drastically on it's own. How can I not? It's who I am.

Besides, would you prefer if I stayed quiet and not mention the inherent dangers of unsolicited running in the corridors? Or am I too mothering too?

Cassandra #2:
I was more referring to the suspiciousness of you rushing off in the middle of giving us directions. Speaking of, we should really be off. I mean, look at how long it's taken us to get this far.

Make a left this intersection, and be careful of fellow pedestrians.

It's night on the SS UESP—at least as its organic lifeforms' circadian rhythms have come to believe. Aiding the illusion of a planetary evening, bright starscapes shine in the holodeck chambers, and along the corridors and chambers of crew members whose ship AI [ [Ｄａｒｋ Ｓｐａｒｋ] ] has analyzed to prefer primitive sleeping conditions beneath a night sky.
Down a corridor, one neglected often by service personnel for its non-essential function, an echo [ [ｅｃｃｏ] ] can be heard through a faint haze.
Deep purple lights, those running on the ship's emergency generators, run the lengths of the corridor, following its snaking curves to the nearest escape pod dock [ [ ＥＰＤ] ]. Windows looking out to the unknown of space run the length of the hall. Out its crystalline panes, a large nebula can be spotted, shimmering in blues and pinks as the ship passes it by. The engines are quiet, smooth like an automobile on an empty freeway.
At the end of the corridor, past a detour where the purple lights snake off elsewhere, the echos [ [ ｅｃｃｏｓ ] ] grow greater. Crudely hung Christmas lights beam through the rising haze, adorning the sides of a metal doorway, held together with pieces of electrical tape and ship scrap, evident of break-ins past. Above it, a neon sign of bright blue is hung carefully, reading something indeterminable in a handwritten, cursive-like script. As the haze settles higher, the neon script becomes more legible.


The door opens to reveal a small former generator room, with a large viewing balcony of deep space. The echos [ [ ｅｃｃｏｓ ] ] now clearly can be heard as music, booming from a tape deck near the center of the room. Among the barely-functioning generator equipment are an old leather couch, a set of storage shelves against the wall, and a large pool table in the center of the room. Off to the sides, hidden in alcoves created after older generators were repurposed for Engineering, are two "rooms", each with its own bed and set of small luxuries. Walls made from discarded medical divider frames and shimmering Milky Way-themed shower curtains divide the rooms into their snug alcoves, but despite ruffled red and black bed spreads, nobody seems to be there.
A purple light glows in the room, its source indeterminable, and a look through the haze reveals several figures in the area: a large, man-sized weasel holds a pool cue in one hand, smoking with the other, and surveys a complicated game of Billiards against a man with his back turned, gazing out the window to the stars. On the couch, a lazily stooped man throws darts at a board adjacent to him, surprisingly hitting the occasional bullseye—not once missing the board. The weasel takes a drag, and then puts out the implement in a marbled glass ashtray on the edge of the pool table. Wiping ash on his leather jacket, the weasel places his hand in his pocket, and looks toward the nosy intruder at the door. "Noise complaints, I assume?"
guyswhyisthisnotarealroleplayyetseriouslyit'skillingme

(I see the Co-Host from the broadcast crew is off reading his fan fiction again)

mateiknowhowyou'refeelingsometimes

Depends. How many psychedelics are you on?

(Wait, this is a roleplay thread? I thought that it was just a thread for mindless arguments that have no impact on real life... But actually, is this for real? Am I the people who stumbled across this room? Did I actually come face-to-face with a man-sized weasel? Because that sounds like a scarring experience, if I've ever heard of one.)

I'm not coming back until they give me a better contract.Yhhhcvg sorry my cat

1-1 & 1-2, please continue for [27] meters, there will be an elevator waiting for you.

I've always admired the detail-oriented.

Cassandra #1:
Well, here goes nothing. I hope that someone notices if we go missing and never return.

*get on elevator*

You worry too much. Have a little faith 'Inputs coordinates' Aaand here we are. See? Nothing to worry about.

Please watch your step as you disembark. Second corner on your right, follow the large power cable till you meet a dead end. There will be a large door with an access module. I'll wait for you there to grant you the necessary clearance

Cassandra #1:
I never said that you would be directly responsible for my disappearance, now did I? I don't know, perhaps I've just been slightly off-put by the lack of crewmembers on this ship. I mean, the only other person I've seen on this ship for a while now is that snarky engineer.

Cassandras 1&2:
*walk to specified location, while remaining on guard*

*A distortion of code appears on the access panel*

Ah, perfect, you're both here. Relax, relax.

Not many personnel frequent this sector of the ship. I'm not at all surprised, Software Storage & Processing isn't exactly the most alluring department outside of Electronics & Programming. Which is a shame really, what with it's proximity to the Holodecks

*The panel slowly readjusts, showing that it's systems have been bypassed.*

Anyways, I'm sure your anxious for some answers.

*The entrance opens, revealing a short corridor leading to a 2nd set of large sealed doors and an access panel already distorted*

Cassandra #1:
"Anxious for some answers"? To be perfectly honest, I don't even remember why we came here. I mean, did I have questions that needed answering? I didn't think so. You're making this more dramatic than it needs to be.

Cassandra #2:
I'm looking forward to having some questions answered. Not that I'll do anything with the information. You know, because I'm sweet and innocent and only here for research purposes.

*floating in empty hallway, artificial gravity turned off*

Spaaaaaaaace. ...Hey, didn't I have a job to do, that I haven't for several months? Several months spent either in cryo or floating around? ...Meh

Well, without further ado

*Closes the first set of doors behind them*

*The 2nd set now opens, revealing a large, circular, alabaster room with only two opposing chairs and a computer module with one on the right*

Please watch your step and proceed. 1-2, could you be kind and take the seat on the right. The one with database access module. 1-1, the subsequent please