This post is William's IC inbox at ataraxion. You can drop network or action stuff that doesn't quite feel like it fits or warrants a post on the main communities in here.
[ William is seated, probably, when Natasi approaches him. From behind. Her greeting is two hands placing gentle on his shoulders, a reflective squeeze like she's prepared to knead out any errant tension knit up in muscles, before there is just a gentle weight of her lean.
[William almost but doesn't quite jump, twists his head around, blinks up at the robot woman in some surprise. He doesn't do anything as intriguing as try to cover up the screen he's working on, which is an incredibly boring list of drugs and indications.]
[William does a one-way- then the-other-way- look about briefly, like he's thinking about something else to say, then thinking the better of it. He levels his eyes out and looks at her straight afterward though and there is no inkling of insincerity when he says,] They're lucky to have you on. We can get started straight away, if you like.
How do you feel about it? The whole, [He's already standing up, looking at her, minimizing his boring drugs window,] everything.
[ There's an uneven blink, out of time and rhythm, as he goes to stand, and her gaze tips off to the monitor he was working on rather than follow suit. She's recovered splendidly from her sickness ailments -- even teeth and fingernails have grown back in record time, and the angles and planes of her face have reverted back to their usual symmetry.
The whole everything, he says. ]
I don't want my medical data stored or accessible to anyone but you. And that's by necessity.
[ She tips a look back up at him, slate-blue eyes quizzical, before she rises smoothly to stand. ]
I wouldn't be doing any of this if I wasn't curious.
'Curious' is a good one, [says William, who was thinking more along the lines of terrified or at least nervous, but perhaps Natasis are incapable of such feelings. Or won't experience them until she's out there. He rests his hip on the edge of the desk.] Your privacy's paramount, of course.
I'll lock it all to me and give you the key protocols so if I ever fuck off the Tranquility and they start digging through, [he gestures at one of the nearby consoles.] You'll be able to delete it.
[ Her expression gentles, adopting an almost smile, her hands smoothing down the hem of her shirt in a gesture that is completely absent minded. Maybe even nervous, but it's barely a ripple in serenity. ]
Thank you.
[ For doing as she asks. For not asking why. For not requiring her to threaten him. (She is a Cylon. She might not have asked if she didn't expect this to be a likely outcome. But she can express gratitude anyway.) ]
[It's hard to say why William skirts real questions about the woman's desire to privacy. He might think it's ordinary patient prerogative, or it might be special courtesy.
Possibly also, her persiflage and numerous teeth might be that beguiling. He starts to steer them over to one of the imaging rooms.] Honestly, I'm beginning to think that going back over the network, learning the history of the SS Space Turd, and having loads of science equipment at hand, [he picks up both the hands in question and makes a Rubik cube kind of turning-and-mashing gesture, his brow knitting thoughtfully,] and having solved one wee problem has left me with the dangerous delusion that answers are possible.
[ She follows, knowing the lay of the land so as to draw abreast of him. Listening. There's a glance alongside as he makes his point, her head tipping. ]
I don't think you're the only one. I don't think what happened to Shepard made people afraid.
[ She doesn't say that like she thinks, perhaps, that was the purpose of the woman's dead. It just is what it is. People are curious. People respected what she did and what she died for. Sure, some people continue to sit on their ass, but-- ]
Solutions are the end of an equation. The work has to be done.
It's very hard to accuse you of being optimistic, [William says, at length. He gestures for her to sit down when they get into the imaging room, a reclining chair-bed with a great halo of monitors and devices suspended above.] Perhaps if you'd be slightly less statuesque, the rest of us could fucking get 'round to it.
[He smiles at her. There isn't exactly boundless mirth behind it, but it's genuine enough.]
The scans will be totally painless. There's one you've got to drink a dye for, but barely any of them require actual contact. It's all very automated. Be nice if the only fucked up violent shit ever happened in the medical bay, honestly, it'd be easy to train people in the basic functions here. But the problem of carnivorous fucking corridors is higher for damage control.
[ A precisely raised eyebrow for that, before Natasi goes to settle on reclining chair. Posing herself is reflexive, hips at a hilt, one knee up, relaxed ankles and pointing toe, although she will settle into something more medically neutral upon comfort. ]
I'm not optimistic, little fish. I just have faith.
[ She stretches into a better recline, a slight toss of hair as head finds rest. ]
I talked to Petrelli about that. Training. Perhaps not the medical bay equipment, but-- people should be able to look after themselves. That's twice now that Medical's felt the pressure of being under staffed.
[Pale and shiny, the scanning device balances in William's hand. It's already shining a light up his arm, activated, but it isn't properly pointed at her just yet. He finds what she's saying of more than a little interest.] Did you? [he asks.]
I'm sure he'dve taken you up on it if the Tranquility hadn't abruptly evacuated him up its arse, eh. [A ghost of a smile, old affection for the previous medbay head, who'd gone away. William looks down at the device, then up again.] Do you mean a first aid training?
[ It's a novel concept to her, really. The death of Cylon bodies is more frequently accepted than their upkeep. She's head to learn, so why shouldn't they? They, who have always been trapped in their forms. ]
Along with familiarity with what equipment and provisions they can access. But I don't know. Perhaps it's all a little hopeless when people can just vanish, any day.
[ Like Peter himself. Like she could, like William could. But she doesn't seem to believe in hopelessness, this statement more like a question, directed to him. ]
I don't know about hope. Or inter-Jump disappearances, for that matter, [William answers, at length. Closet pessimist maybe. He looks like it sometimes, his friendly, kicked-runt aspect, works too many hours, probably overcompensating for something.] But I'm a hundred and twenty percent certain somebody's going to get shot or fucking stabbed or bit around here eventually, so the training's definitely a good idea. If you could lie still a moment, but just keep talking and breathing like normal--
[He lifts up the scanner in his hands. Focuses it on her long-limbed body, but otherwise does nothing else medically or scientifically impressive. Instead, he talks on.] What was you thinking?
[ Natasi does as instructed; she settles back, and it doesn't take too much effort not to worry further about what William may or may not find. In her experience, he won't find anything. ]
The illusion of cooperation. We could get the heads of other departments to send their people our way. Regimented rolling out of training instead of a free for all.
You'd have to talk our colleagues into it. Get an idea of their skillsets. Patience. Maybe we'll all need to brush up first on basic first aid.
...technically she has one of those right, like a roboheart. and robo-brainwaves, which will come up later.]
That's probably a good idea anyway, [William agrees.] Although that leaves people who ain't in any kind of department untrained, and that don't seem wise either. You'll find a way to schedule them in too, yeah? [he asks with no real expectation she'll say no. Starting with the departments is relevant enough.]
For all intents and purposes, her heart beats at a healthy regulation, and her brain sends correct signals. She is sublimely healthy, in a somewhat suspiciously median kind of way, her data cresting the bell jar. She is, perhaps, a little warmer than what is considered normal. ]
Yes, [ she answers, simply. ] If they're not going to contribute anything to our little village, the least they could do is learn to look after themselves.
[ That doesn't come across as overly caustic or anything, frank and light in delivery. Her opinion is plain, but it's not one of viciousness. Condescension, faintly. ]
[William is very oblivious in many ways, but he can sense condescension when it's put as such. He was like that once. Not knowing the how of things taught in books, with special skills, the kind of training that takes time and money. Or a commitment to a spacefaring military institution that trafficks with demons.
He smiles at her a little.] Yeah, [he agrees.] 'Little village.' That's funny.
--We could have exams at the end, [he says suddenly, brightening.] I mean, even if it ain't graded. A field test of knowledge, with a scenario, not really dangerous but with some indicators. With an injured dummy or some kind of actor. Make sure people was paying some fucking attention and learned what they was taught.
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action.
Her voice, nearby, above his ear; ]
I need you to do me a favour.
no subject
Right. What is it, love?
no subject
They're restarting the recon efforts. I volunteered. It's been suggested we should undergo full examinations before going in.
[ Her affect is placid, direct, gentle. ]
no subject
[William does a one-way- then the-other-way- look about briefly, like he's thinking about something else to say, then thinking the better of it. He levels his eyes out and looks at her straight afterward though and there is no inkling of insincerity when he says,] They're lucky to have you on. We can get started straight away, if you like.
How do you feel about it? The whole, [He's already standing up, looking at her, minimizing his boring drugs window,] everything.
no subject
The whole everything, he says. ]
I don't want my medical data stored or accessible to anyone but you. And that's by necessity.
[ She tips a look back up at him, slate-blue eyes quizzical, before she rises smoothly to stand. ]
I wouldn't be doing any of this if I wasn't curious.
no subject
I'll lock it all to me and give you the key protocols so if I ever fuck off the Tranquility and they start digging through, [he gestures at one of the nearby consoles.] You'll be able to delete it.
no subject
Thank you.
[ For doing as she asks. For not asking why. For not requiring her to threaten him. (She is a Cylon. She might not have asked if she didn't expect this to be a likely outcome. But she can express gratitude anyway.) ]
What do you think about it? The whole everything.
no subject
Possibly also, her persiflage and numerous teeth might be that beguiling. He starts to steer them over to one of the imaging rooms.] Honestly, I'm beginning to think that going back over the network, learning the history of the SS Space Turd, and having loads of science equipment at hand, [he picks up both the hands in question and makes a Rubik cube kind of turning-and-mashing gesture, his brow knitting thoughtfully,] and having solved one wee problem has left me with the dangerous delusion that answers are possible.
Or worse yet: solutions. [He grimaces.]
no subject
I don't think you're the only one. I don't think what happened to Shepard made people afraid.
[ She doesn't say that like she thinks, perhaps, that was the purpose of the woman's dead. It just is what it is. People are curious. People respected what she did and what she died for. Sure, some people continue to sit on their ass, but-- ]
Solutions are the end of an equation. The work has to be done.
no subject
[He smiles at her. There isn't exactly boundless mirth behind it, but it's genuine enough.]
The scans will be totally painless. There's one you've got to drink a dye for, but barely any of them require actual contact. It's all very automated. Be nice if the only fucked up violent shit ever happened in the medical bay, honestly, it'd be easy to train people in the basic functions here. But the problem of carnivorous fucking corridors is higher for damage control.
no subject
I'm not optimistic, little fish. I just have faith.
[ She stretches into a better recline, a slight toss of hair as head finds rest. ]
I talked to Petrelli about that. Training. Perhaps not the medical bay equipment, but-- people should be able to look after themselves. That's twice now that Medical's felt the pressure of being under staffed.
no subject
I'm sure he'dve taken you up on it if the Tranquility hadn't abruptly evacuated him up its arse, eh. [A ghost of a smile, old affection for the previous medbay head, who'd gone away. William looks down at the device, then up again.] Do you mean a first aid training?
no subject
[ It's a novel concept to her, really. The death of Cylon bodies is more frequently accepted than their upkeep. She's head to learn, so why shouldn't they? They, who have always been trapped in their forms. ]
Along with familiarity with what equipment and provisions they can access. But I don't know. Perhaps it's all a little hopeless when people can just vanish, any day.
[ Like Peter himself. Like she could, like William could. But she doesn't seem to believe in hopelessness, this statement more like a question, directed to him. ]
no subject
[He lifts up the scanner in his hands. Focuses it on her long-limbed body, but otherwise does nothing else medically or scientifically impressive. Instead, he talks on.] What was you thinking?
no subject
The illusion of cooperation. We could get the heads of other departments to send their people our way. Regimented rolling out of training instead of a free for all.
You'd have to talk our colleagues into it. Get an idea of their skillsets. Patience. Maybe we'll all need to brush up first on basic first aid.
no subject
he had better find a heartbeat.
...technically she has one of those right, like a roboheart. and robo-brainwaves, which will come up later.]
That's probably a good idea anyway, [William agrees.] Although that leaves people who ain't in any kind of department untrained, and that don't seem wise either. You'll find a way to schedule them in too, yeah? [he asks with no real expectation she'll say no. Starting with the departments is relevant enough.]
no subject
out of the ordinary, calm down.
For all intents and purposes, her heart beats at a healthy regulation, and her brain sends correct signals. She is sublimely healthy, in a somewhat suspiciously median kind of way, her data cresting the bell jar. She is, perhaps, a little warmer than what is considered normal. ]
Yes, [ she answers, simply. ] If they're not going to contribute anything to our little village, the least they could do is learn to look after themselves.
[ That doesn't come across as overly caustic or anything, frank and light in delivery. Her opinion is plain, but it's not one of viciousness. Condescension, faintly. ]
no subject
He smiles at her a little.] Yeah, [he agrees.] 'Little village.' That's funny.
--We could have exams at the end, [he says suddenly, brightening.] I mean, even if it ain't graded. A field test of knowledge, with a scenario, not really dangerous but with some indicators. With an injured dummy or some kind of actor. Make sure people was paying some fucking attention and learned what they was taught.