tirsden: Riddick says: Let's play. (let's play)
[personal profile] tirsden
[Written as background material for a SOMA-based/modified roleplay. More information can be found here.]


Marc trudged along the ocean floor, Rig-B tucked under one arm. The little 'bot still wasn't powering on when he tried to get a response a few minutes ago. Tried. He wasn't a tech person, not like this. Did poking the little guy and shaking him count as trying to power him on? Sure...

Up ahead, brown eyes could see the top of the stairs that lead down to the deeper parts of the plateau where sunlight didn't reach as well. It was like looking down into murky twilight from this vantage point, but at this time of day it was brighter down there than it seemed from here. Still... the big guy took a deep breath, trying to shake a feeling of foreboding. Omicron was down there, and they are going to be just fine. Just peachy. Yup, peachy as fuck.

One thing was definitely peachy, the fact that there was an intercom set into the top of the stairway structure. Marc pushed the button. "Dispatch, come in, this is Anderson. There's been an emergency at Theta... are you guys okay? Something about an earthquake."

The suit comms should link just fine to the intercom, and the intercom was lit up... but as he repeated, "Dispatch, come in," it seemed like he was talking to dead air. There was a quick electronic beep, then a voice he recognized as Helper Jane started speaking in her unmistakable British accent that made the big guy's heart skip a beat thinking of poor Michael. Usually Helper Jane was the default program for omnitools, but the voice had apparently been used for this system too.

"Communications malfunction detected," Helper Jane informed. "Voice messages can be cached and delivered to Omicron dispatch for transfer to other recipients once communications are restored. Would you like to record a message?"

"Yes." Marc grimaced, not happy with this option but it was better than nothing. Then his heart skipped another beat as he recognized the voice he actually wanted to hear, but sadly it was a recording that Dispatch must have put in the system. Kroenen... Sora. Kittyface.

"Hi there, you've reached Omicron's dispatch message caching system! Umm, hopefully it's not an emergency, because if the system is down and you're hearing this, then it might be a while before messages get through. But maybe not! So anyways, leave a message after the beep! Oh right, and if it's personal or sensitive information, you might want to wait until the system is back online. Anyways... BEEP!"

Mark smiled wryly as the recording ended, but the smile faded fast. "Dispatch, this is Anderson. I'm at the stairs to Kappa, top side, heading for Omicron and I hope to fuck you guys are okay. Something happened to Michael at Theta, he said there was an earthquake and it sounded bad after that. He was piloting a 'bot that exploded near me and unit Rig-B got zapped in the process. Long-range communications cut out with the big 'bot, and I can't get Riggs to power back on but I'm bringing him with me.

"I'm heading down the stairs now, I'll try and check in at the next intercom. Hope you guys are okay, and if there's trouble where you are, secure Omicron first, then start checking on the other stations. Might have to check the shuttle tunnels on foot in case there's structural damage."

He sighed, knowing he was in a weird position of being able to give orders regarding security and safety, but unsure if anyone would care in a moment like this. "Anderson out. End recording."

The intercom beeped and Helper Jane's voice came back. "Message recorded. Cache will send when communications are restored."

"Yeah, you said that already." Marc frowned at the deceptive lights of the intercom panel, wondering what the odds were that it would start working the moment he was out of comm range. That wouldn't be far, going down the stairs. Gel contamination was worse down there. And harmless. Totally harmless. Harmless, my ass. He shook his head and walked over to the first set of metal stairs that meandered down into darker water.

He wanted to hear Sora's voice again. Not just for present reasons, but because there was the futile wish floating around his head that this was just a dream. He knew better, but the wish remained. He wanted to magically wake up, sleep schedule a mess from night-shift guard duty, not that such schedules mattered much this far under the ocean. Some people were up all night, like that creepy Chun lady. Some had specific experiments that required monitoring at odd hours.

And then there was Sora. Adorable, shy, and a massive trap. Well, technically a short and petite trap. Marc found himself smiling fondly as he remembered their last conversation, the last one in person anyways. He had ducked into Omicron's dispatch room while bored on night patrol. Sora was making cats out of origami in various sizes and shapes, brightly-colored paper kitties crowding almost every available surface in the room except for the floor.

A big grin as remembered fingers carefully picked up an all-black paper cat so small he could stick it on his fingertip, which seemed to be the idea. "Nice. I had a cat for a while, but I suck at coming home enough to be useful to anybody."

"Aww, nuuuu... I'm sure neko was happy to wait for you!"

"To get fed, more like." A deep chuckle. "She was a shelter rescue, kinda feral for a while but warmed up to me eventually. I made sure she didn't go back to a shelter... last I heard, she's made a good ratter at a friend's farm. Figures... food."

Giggles and paper crinkling. "What's her name?"

"Frizzy. She was a semi-longhair until going to the farm, guess they got tired of it and she gets buzz cuts now. That fur had a mind of its own, so she always looked like she'd just stumbled out of a hair drying session gone wrong. I tried naming her after anime characters for a while, but the names never stuck... Frizz ignored them all."

"Ooh, you like anime? Which ones?"


Marc had listed a bunch. Lots of old stuff, and a few of the newer gems. Turns out Sora had seen all of them. Funny, the things you learn about people when you mention the right topics. It wasn't exactly their first conversation, there had been a lot of late-night chats, but new stuff was always surfacing. You better still be there to keep telling me new things, Kittyface.

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