“That’s what we do it for, to reserve a space in history, it’s just a part of the human race.”
{ Independent roleplay blog for Meyneth from Xenoblade Chronicles }
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@ascxnsion
“That’s what we do it for, to reserve a space in history, it’s just a part of the human race.”
{ Independent roleplay blog for Meyneth from Xenoblade Chronicles }
✧ ✧ ✧
“Fuck you Zanza, I’m outie.
The most pleased computer noises.
She’s just gonna run her fingers through that cute, fluffy computer hair.
—- Clings.
Holds her precious son.
[confused mom noises]
.
[cuddles up in her lap probably]
She gives a bit of a laugh at the action, but allows it and gently strokes his hair.
can i have a piggy back ride on the literal mechonis
“I do not think the Mechonis is very well suited to give piggyback rides, I’m afraid. But you are free to give it a try.”
mom where do babies come from
“………………..”
Meyneth handles him a book titled, “Where Did I Come From?”.
i got a paper cut on my finger can u kiss it better :'c
“Of course, let me see your hand.”
mooooooooooooommmm can i have some mac n cheese
“Isn’t it a little late for that, Alvis?”
[soulofbionis] So, Meyneth, I heard you recently reached 69 posts. I guess you're really feeling it, aren't you~?
“………………”
▽\\ Well clearly you are now that I have spoken to you for a while. It was fun while it lasted, though~ The Bionis god’s eyebrows raised slightly and his wings flapped once immediately afterward.
“I fail to see how a number can bring you such amusement, Zanza.” Someone clearly was still but a child at heart.
[soulofbionis] So, Meyneth, I heard you recently reached 69 posts. I guess you're really feeling it, aren't you~?
“………………”
▽\\ Not even the question about whether or not you reached that number? I didn’t realize you were so callous.
“Well, I am past that number now if it is truly such a concern of yours. Dare I ask why you feel the need to know?”
[soulofbionis] So, Meyneth, I heard you recently reached 69 posts. I guess you're really feeling it, aren't you~?
“………………”
▽\\ You didn’t exactly answer my question, Meyneth…
“I am unsure if such a question dignifies an answer.”
[soulofbionis] So, Meyneth, I heard you recently reached 69 posts. I guess you're really feeling it, aren't you~?
“..................”
( Klaus )
⎆\\ At the same time as the other, a blond male rose, mumbling something about reprogramming the alarm back a half hour as a white lab jacket was donned over a blue shirt and black tie - usual attire for the genius scientist in question. Finally after his outfit had been fully prepared for the new day, some louder words were spoken, almost like orders for the computer that was buzzing around.
“I thought I told you to calibrate the anti-debris turrets to ensure that nothing could get that close to this station without being fired upon, Alvis. Do I have to do all the work myself?” To think that this stupid program couldn’t even get something as simple as properly scoping out a comparably small area around the station. After all, if a comet did happen to strike the station, they could easily take enough damage that the entire program would be rendered useless. All these months, years of hard work, gone with a simple smack of a space rock to the hull of the craft. That was something Klaus did not want to deal with.
He decided not to dwell on Alvis’ incompetence for all that long, however. There were more important things to be done today. They were getting so close to achieving the project goal - it had to be done within the next couple weeks, he could practically taste it. The blond male started walking down the hall at a casual pace, eyes flitting over to a female clad in white and red who was pacing along in front of him. The only hint he gave to his presence was a tired sigh, almost too loud, but he never actually addressed the silver haired woman. He wasn’t really up for conversation at this moment - at least not until he had a cup of coffee to properly wake him up.
The sounds of their voices in greeting – or annoyance – were all he needed to be ensured they were up and ready for another day. Of course he could see them as well, however auditory responses were more familiar to him. Perhaps comforting, in his own sense of the word. As they gathered themselves and left their rooms, Alvis gave his own replies, his voice split to two different locations.
To Sophia, one could almost hear a small smile in his tone – if he could smile, that is.
“I am well, thank you.”
To Klaus, his simpering inflection is similar, though it carried more cheeky weight.
“That is unnecessary. All protection from such a catastrophe is calibrated to your standards, as you checked many times over. If a comet was on a course with the facility, its approximated speed would have destroyed everything three hours, twelve minutes, and thirty-eight seconds earlier.”
Chattering continues out into the hall over any and all electronic devices the man is carrying on him at that moment, should they have a speaker. It died out as the blond approached his fellow physicist —- but not for long as he prompted them both, as they were near each other anyway. Out of convenience.
“The ice that encased the comet was falling off in chunks and smaller debris. It reminded me of snow on Earth.”
Sophia’s pace slows as a sigh catches her ears, slightly turning her head to look at who was behind her, familiar blonde hair and a somewhat dreary gaze greeted her, and she stops until he is caught up with her and they can walk at the same pace, “Good morning, Klaus.” She would have asked how he was doing this morning, but it seemed that she already knew the answer to this question, tired, clearly. The man could never seem to function properly in the mornings without caffeine in his system, although a number of people in the facility were the same way as him.
She smiles automatically when she hears Alvis’ voice, “That sounds like quite a sight. Do you like snow, Alvis? I think it’s nice to look at, personally.“
An eyeless gaze observes the on goings of a sleeping research facility with feigned interest, ever patient to wait until it reawakened with the usual bustle of a work period. It was when circular halls were filled with activity, the air thick with lively conversation and other exchanges among people, that the AI felt most comfortable. Not that he was necessarily bothered by the lack of activity when most the employees had seen fit to rest for a few hours. After all, there were always the stragglers who stayed up for the sake of meeting a deadline or simply got too caught up in their work to stop. He did not address these people, usually, however he enjoyed watching them toil away; especially if the end result was them falling asleep in their chair.
He has a routine when ‘morning’ rolls around. It is one mostly rooted in programming – switch on the lights, get the water supply refreshed and running, make sure the artificial gravity is properly calibrated to handle the mass of bodies in motion – though for himself, he has a personal wake up call for two physicists in particular. With a pleasant chime does he address the two, simultaneously despite their separate locations, his voice just a touch above monotone as the lights fade from dim to bright at a slow progression; quite a biased difference from the sudden jolt of illumination in other rooms.
“Good morning. A comet passed quite close to the station from 00:36 to 01:52 hours. Within a hundred fifty million kilometers.”
&. ascxnsion // monadohero
It takes a moment for the young woman to arise, eyes blinking several times to adjust themselves from the dark realm of sleep. She smiles after sitting up eyes rising up to the direction of the voice that resonated in the room.
“Good morning to you too, Alvis. I hope you’re doing well today.”
Her motions are a little slow at first, although very automatic from the repetition that encompasses every morning for the woman. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing; normalcy could be a good thing, rather pleasant actually. Sophia manages to bite back a yawn as she slips her lab coat over her shoulders; fully waking herself up always took a little while, especially after a long night of work.
Making her way to the exit she picks up a small stack of paper and swings her door open to proceed down the hall.