.

This blog is no longer active!

[fifi3ld-blog]

So all of you know, I don't think I'll be coming back for a while. I'm not....all too healthy? right now? so I just don't have the energy to do this. I'm sorry.

[fifi3ld-blog]

-logs in for the first time in months-

-punched in the face with a tidal wave of guilt-

-slinks back into cave-

-grumbles-

[earthshaped]

Fluorite 

Rosiclare Lvl, Denton Mine, Illinois, USA

[eocene]

Acanthite

[scientificillustration]

[Copper ore] by Library & Archives @ Royal Ontario Museum on Flickr.

Author: Rashleigh, Philip, 1729-1811 Title: Specimens of British minerals / selected from the cabinet of Philip Rashleigh, with general descriptions of each article. Imprint: London : Printed by W. Bulmer, and sold by G. Nicol, and Messrs. White, 1797-1802. Physical Description: Page: Call Number: QE381 .G7 R224 1797 Rare Book

[fifi3ld-blog]

iguessthatsbecauseimhuman started following you

…Ms.Shaw

[iguessthatsbecauseimhuman]

“Hello, Fifield.”

[fifi3ld-blog]

"Erm...anything you needed....?"

[eocene]

Fluorite w/ Quartz

[earthshaped]

Brookite with Quartz

Kharan, Balochistan, Pakistan

[eocene]

Fluorite w/ Apatite

[eocene]

Hematite

[eocene]

Native Copper

[fifi3ld-blog]

((My sincere apologies for neglecting this blog. I've been dealing with some personal health concerns that have made focusing on role playing difficult.

I'd still love to interact with all of you! I only ask that you be more patient than usual with the pace of my responses.))

[eighthgeneration-deactivated201]

Petra Cor

[eighthgeneration-deactivated201]

His eyes moved away momentarily, processing the researcher’s opinions on Mr. Weyland. His eyes fixed on a stool to his right, then up to the wall upon realizing that David, himself, had a rather different view of Mr. Weyland. One that not many could say they shared or known. It gives him cause to smile just slightly as he brings his attention back to the geologist. “I see. As busy a man that he was, he always did enjoy praise. Most people do.” … Or so he found.

“I can’t say. It would seem impossible to log information on a person I know nothing about. I won’t bore you with the details, but I haven’t “researched” the members of the Prometheus… I have been busy tending to the ship, monitoring everybody’s vitals, and learning about ancient languages until recently. I only know of your resume as it was one of the few details I was provided before the entire crew went into hyper-sleep.” Unbeknownst to the crew, David did actually monitor one very closely. Call it a pet project, in a less patronizing sense. As it were, the android was oblivious to the other crew that stared at two. He was sure there would come a time where he would need to (or want to?) converse with them as well. It helped him to gauge their personalities to enable a less-hostile and more effective working environment. These ‘pups’ the geologist spoke of, were metallic orbs, complete with gravity spacers (enabling a sort of ‘hover’ feature), an ultra-violet light that processed up to one-thousand times quicker than a scanner, with real-time results. Similar (but not the same) technology was originally crafted for the David 1, for a more practical use. Mr. Weyland was trying to gain investors to create a more human android, but had to appeal to the more conservative shareholders first. These items he knew about more than anything, for if it was one thing that the android was told about regarding the crew, it was their belongings. There were various other high-priority crew members (Security for Mr. Weyland, if you will.) who were also informed.

“They’re right where you put them two years ago. Still in their case, I imagine. I find that ‘beauty’ has no bearing on the quality of production. That’s something that you humans are more concerned about. I would be delighted to work alongside your ‘pups’.” He smiles back, retaining a calm demeanor as he speaks with the human.

[fifi3ld-blog]

Fifield raised his eyebrows in surprise, casting his gaze to the side to try and think through what had just been said. The thought that Weyland Industries hadn't picked their crew apart was. . .interesting, not exactly a notion he ever would have entertained on his own. "Conspiracy theorist" was hardly the worst thing he'd ever been called, and hardly the least accurate. It was strangely less than comforting to know that this David 8 wasn't simply a human shaped security camera. If there were gaps in his knowledge, then was he really just a crew member? Was he really so human?

The geologist realised that his train of thought had led to a prolonged gap in conversation and tried quickly to remember what had last been said. St.Peter. . .pretty little head. . .pretty. . .his pups. . .

Fifield looked back at David to discover that his infinitely patient expression had not changed, "Right. . .mind tellin' me how exactly you'd be delighted to work with 'em?"

Unless Weyland's David 8 came with hovercrafts embedded in the perfectly measured arches of his feet, there was little between the two robotic types in terms of compatibility. The way he'd phrased his thought was eerie as well; he'd be delighted? Could he feel delight? Could joy course through his circuitry? Fifield's discomfort rose, there was a sense of ambiguity about his conversation partner that seemed to amplify with every open, honest statement he made, as if it spawned more secrets.

"They didn't exactly tell me what I'd be doing here in this galaxy's arse end of nowhere, did they happen to mention that t' you? Somewhere in between programming two dozen dead languages into ya?"

[kisapele]

Fluorite

source: http://www.mindat.org/photo-460125.html

[fifi3ld-blog]

iguessthatsbecauseimhuman started following you

. . .Ms.Shaw

[eighthgeneration-deactivated201]

Petra Cor

[eighthgeneration-deactivated201]

A delayed blink; A characteristic that all David units displayed. Possibly one of the few qualities that stood out from normal human behavior. An obvious robotic function of the times. You either had a machine that blinked too fast, or too slow.

David looked up once more from his tablet. The device held the schedule for that day, noting the hologram, the doctor’s presentation, and a small question-and-answer session between the doctors and the crew. A smile slowly grew, as he began to speak, “I’m sure he would have been entertained to hear that.” He took his attention back to the tablet, exiting out of the program and setting it to idle in his lap. Everything so meticulous and perfect; You’d swear there wasn’t even a stray wrinkle in his clothing. It was, perhaps, the perfection that caused him to stand out amongst the others. Continuing to sit upright, his shoulders perfected angled and spaced, he lifted a hand and guided his fingers down to his wrist. “In the early millennium, bio-engineers concocted a cell-based “synthetic skin” to heal ulcers. Weyland Industries took their patent a step further, creating a purely synthetic method that does not use any deteriorating materials… Fine tuned, and you have what you see before you.” He outstretches his fingers before placing his hands back in his lap, as if he performed a sort of magic trick before retracting. Although his personality was programmed, “Eccentric” if you will; It was a personality nonetheless. The crew may or may not come to realize this in time, maybe even mistaking him for something human by those unaware of the David’s programming process. “Might I ask of your other planetary exploits? Planetary geology was on your resume, after all. Have you worked under, or have you been sponsored by Weyland Industries before?” One would wonder if he already knew the answers to these questions or not. Who really knew how clued in David was. They were all asleep… For all they knew, he could’ve gone through their things. It went without saying there were some who were weary of him, whereas others were fascinated. Doctor Ford had prior contact with David before this expedition, as she was Weyland’s personal doctor for many years. “Do you have any inquiries at this time, Mr. Fifield?”

[fifi3ld-blog]

Fifield's expression darkened at the rapid firing of inquiries and information. He'd have been far more comfortable speaking with David if he took the form of a metal bucket and a mass of exposed wires. Human interaction, including that between faux humans, was a chore.

He tried to focus on the meticulously crafted fingers splayed before him, the fluidity of motion too pristine for man to imitate, the slow, calm closing of eyes that did not need the constant attention of their lids. It was eerie, staring at something that improved upon your most basic survival functions, made a mockery of your capacities and sat in an upgrade of your skin.

Fifield waited to see if this David 8 had anything else to say, and wondered if his borderline psychotic enthusiasm was meant to make the crew feel at ease. The morbidity of the thought almost shocked him, but more than continue this conversation he'd like to pull back David's skin and take a probe to his synthetic nerve endings.

"I doubt Saint Peter would appreciate anything I had to offer outside my resume, David," he said finally, forming the android's name carefully, as if applying it to him made it completely foreign.

"And I doubt you need to know about my 'istory since it's logged away and backed up twice for safe keeping in that perfect little head of yours," Fifield leaned back against the wall and took a deep breath, noting that several of the crew were watching the pair nervously. No doubt that they were unlikely looking conversational partners.

He scratched the back of his left hand, noting that the pattern inked into his right had faded thanks to two years of regenerating skin, "H've you taken good care of my pups 'en?" he said with a hint of a smile, "Might not be as pretty as you, but they're in Weyland's best interests 'in't they?"

[themineralogist]

Silver (by stefan_fotos)