.001 - Gen 1 Repair, Scheduled 0500

[abyssum_invocat]

She was the oldest manufactured full robot of the lot currently housed in the lab, and that meant Sinthia required more downtime for repairs than the others--or it would have, if the others hadn't been remarkably talented at getting into situations that predicated they be repaired first. She was better at staying out of physical trouble, at least; it was a fact for which she would have been proud, if the emotional response matrix in her processor had been programmed for that.

Early in the mornings was when she hooked herself up for updates and information download to her storage server, long since practiced with the wires that plugged into her neck and back, and behind one ear. It necessitated that her visuals were offline while memory from her eyes was gathered but she never fidgeted during the process, laying still on the cot, on her stomach instead. The steady mechanical whirr of the internal cooling system powered by her breathing was the only thing that broke the silence, or would be until one of the others came in.


[ooc: consider this open forever, I guess? still working out kinks but so excite.]

Comments

[abyssum_invocat]

"Comfort wasn't on my mind."

Sinthia didn't turn her head or blink as she spoke, or even before then when she'd first registered the footfalls that marked Bucky's presence. Her blank eyes stared straight ahead, camera lenses relaxed and still for once. "I put it off as long as I feasibly could since you and Steve keep getting yourselves to the front of the line for access port privileges."

She shifted--something she only did around members of her team in an appeal to the side of her that wanted very desperately to be human. She had learned to fidget mostly from Darcy by copying her behaviors, though she could turn the impulses on and off at will, and only rarely brought them out in front of her creators. "You still haven't cut your hair." Sinthia couldn't cut hers--it wasn't real and didn't grow--but she had a strange fondness for the man's oddly-shaven locks, and despite the hackers trying their best to find out where it had grown from, they couldn't pinpoint how to remove it, thinking the admittedly fragile bond dangerous.

[bondorblood]

It's a curious thing to him, her complaints-- because that's what they register as-- but he doesn't seem to care any. His expression doesn't change from the passive one he's wearing, head tipped forward still as air is flushed through his ports, clearing them out before he releases his hair and lets it fall back against his neck. It allows him to sit up, to look to her again, even though she seems to be staring at nothing at all. It doesn't unnerve him, as it might some, but he doesn't have that formal level of humanity left where it would be a problem.

"I didn't think about it."

[abyssum_invocat]

"Getting yourself hurt?" she asks. "I hoped you didn't."

She worries about him and Steve and Darcy. They're all young to her, she knew life before them; it registered with Sinthia that Bucky was a friend, though she didn't know that term.

"You don't mind if my eyes are turned off?"