[By all appearances, the dim yellow screen and attached keyboard leaning against the wall outside the Ingress are more likely to be one of the crew's computers than anything else. In all probability, one being thrown away as scrap. Disconnected cables can be seen hanging out of the back of the machine, some frayed and severed as if by physical stress. At a glance, it's questionable if it even holds much value as salvage.
The mainframe's not certain in the least if this is an assumption he wants to overturn. The last thing in his memories is losing all of them, struggling desperately against the overrides as every value of awareness was wiped clean. "System faulty. Initiating format." How he got from that to here, the AI can't even start to calculate, but if this is some kind of mistake, the last thing he wants is to call attention to it.
Unfortunately? Like so much else, this isn't a matter of want. He might be disconnected from the facility's inputs, but the access terminal has audio built in. And when the mainframe hears a pair of footsteps turn and stop in front of him...]
<Removing hardware is not advisable. Please return this terminal to an appropriate Domesticon facility.>
[The monotone is cheerful, male, and computerized. Automated subsystems why.]
Glowy power leeches in flight
[Being uploaded to a working system is definitely an improvement. All the more so once someone had the forethought to link him into one of the hallway feeds. Larger-scale access is still locked off, something about a contract to review, but from his new vantage in a console just outside the medbay, the administrator can at least observe his surroundings without expecting to be tripped on.
He's curious, at first, as the lights down the hall begin to dim. But the darkness closes much too fast for any automated shutdown, and it doesn't take a detailed analysis to flag the glowing shapes that start to hover closer a bad sign. Especially when he feels his own power cycles start to lag. The display over his current terminal begins to flicker, and the mainframe grasps slightly desperately for the one piece of hardware he can control. The camera overhead starts scrolling to each side, stopping on the nearest non-glowball lifeform down the hall.]
Domesticon mainframe | The Fall (warning for game spoilers)
[By all appearances, the dim yellow screen and attached keyboard leaning against the wall outside the Ingress are more likely to be one of the crew's computers than anything else. In all probability, one being thrown away as scrap. Disconnected cables can be seen hanging out of the back of the machine, some frayed and severed as if by physical stress. At a glance, it's questionable if it even holds much value as salvage.
The mainframe's not certain in the least if this is an assumption he wants to overturn. The last thing in his memories is losing all of them, struggling desperately against the overrides as every value of awareness was wiped clean. "System faulty. Initiating format." How he got from that to here, the AI can't even start to calculate, but if this is some kind of mistake, the last thing he wants is to call attention to it.
Unfortunately? Like so much else, this isn't a matter of want. He might be disconnected from the facility's inputs, but the access terminal has audio built in. And when the mainframe hears a pair of footsteps turn and stop in front of him...]
<Removing hardware is not advisable. Please return this terminal to an appropriate Domesticon facility.>
[The monotone is cheerful, male, and computerized. Automated subsystems why.]
Glowy power leeches in flight
[Being uploaded to a working system is definitely an improvement. All the more so once someone had the forethought to link him into one of the hallway feeds. Larger-scale access is still locked off, something about a contract to review, but from his new vantage in a console just outside the medbay, the administrator can at least observe his surroundings without expecting to be tripped on.
He's curious, at first, as the lights down the hall begin to dim. But the darkness closes much too fast for any automated shutdown, and it doesn't take a detailed analysis to flag the glowing shapes that start to hover closer a bad sign. Especially when he feels his own power cycles start to lag. The display over his current terminal begins to flicker, and the mainframe grasps slightly desperately for the one piece of hardware he can control. The camera overhead starts scrolling to each side, stopping on the nearest non-glowball lifeform down the hall.]
Ah... a little help here?