CHARACTERS: The Doctor (overeducated) and GLaDOS (lovestotest) DATE: 8/06 (Week 1, Day 5) RATING: G SUMMARY: GLaDOS may need some potential repairs, and the Doctor has a thing for new tech.
Even below the ships deck, the weather was still leaking though the layers of corroding steel. It only attested to the horrible state GLaDOS was in. Not that she couldn't cope. She could find a way to get the damage of the salty water on her metal skin fixed easily. It was what was going on mentally that she was having trouble with. That woman was here. Or was it just more faulty wiring. But this time she could see her, hear her more clearly than before. Feel her. The android shook her head, trying to relieve her mind of the troubling thoughts that refused to yield their progress. All she could do for now, it seems, is try and fix what she could; and that was a few minor repairs.
The bowels of the steel beast were just as dank and disgusting as the rest of the ship; if not more so. Out of the corner of her eyes she could spot a few of the amalgamations that wandered the decks. They were no more than a nuisance. She continued onward to the tool room that she found earlier. It didn't have anything outstandingly useful. Basic tools that could be found in any tool shop. With a bit of digging she could find what she needed.
The light in the room flickered and swayed with the strong waves that threw the ship left and right. It only made the poor illumination even more difficult to work with. Fortunately, GLaDOS could make up for it. She began digging through on of the cabinets that lined the walls of the room; looking for anything that would help.
To say that the Doctor spent a majority of his time in the tool room would have been... a gross overstatement. The tool room was the most interesting safe room, but that hardly meant it was the most interesting room. Five days and even he had to admit that not all the nooks and crannies of the ship had been investigated, but that was because they were blocked by monsters- he wasn't the best fighter- or blocked by locks. Locks which, no matter how long he sat on the other side running through the sonic's settings, he could never undo. Frustrating.
Irritating. Everything, though, everything was irritating these days-- the sound of shoes on iron, squeaky hinges, floating ghosts, the crash of rain, the roll of the ship. The sky mocked him, the walls angered him. The people grounded him, but as much as he wanted to ground them back, he hardly knew them - hardly knew them and hardly had the energy to keep it up, and thus, there he was, tweed thrown over a steel chair, sleeves rolled up, elbows coated in grease, fingers feeling like rust. The ship's tool room fared far better than the island's entire lack thereof, but it was still so primitive--
- He'd been in the corner, pulled up with his own meager collection of odds and ends, passing time by futzing with various ionic bonds (a slow, tedious process, but better than ruining a useful piece of metal trying to repair the ship when annoyed with the ship), when the click-click of shoes brought a woman in. Within a few seconds, he was already forgetting she'd arrived, but - no, forgetting would have been a self-torment, as she was... very distinctly not human.
Not human, and rummaging around the cabinets with a fervor that spoke of someone who had no clue what exactly they'd find.
It didn't take much mental consideration on the Doctor's part before he set a twisted bit of pipe on his chair and sprung forward, catching himself on a long table and peering, peering, sluggishly bored mind whirring into life over a possible distraction. His hopes weren't that high-- she smelt like metal, wires and electricity, but that could've been the flickering lights- overall emotions beyond irritation yet flat-lining, but all the same,
"Looking for something?"
Even in the middle of a funk, it was hard not to be curious.
GLaDOS continued to rummage through the cabinets and drawers. There was nothing of use. Nothing. She knew COMPASS liked to keep everyone in check, but some updated tools would haven't of caused much trouble... Okay, well maybe she would have started some if given the opportunity, but that was a different matter. Screwdriver. Hammer. Wrench. None of these proposed a solution. There didn't even seem to be any oil or cleaner either. This place was just a hassle for an android. Back at Aperture, everything would be lying wait for her. But that was back at her haven. She was in hell here. Surrounded by idiots.
It was then that she noticed a few scuffles and the clank of a metal pipe. Great. There was someone else in here. Just what she needed was some more prying eyes. Back at the island, there were plenty of places for solitude. This metal trap had closed around her and locked her away with some of the most unsavory individuals she could think of. An albino, a moron, and a mute. She could start a circus with them.
GLaDOS hoped that she could just ignored the other person that she was sharing the room with, but from the sounds of it, they were planning on imposing. They were light on their feet and ready to get closer. A energetic one, from the sounds of it; which means they will only be that much harder to sluff off. Being curt may give the hint, but she wasn't banking on it.
"Nothing in particular. Just something to clean the corrosion away from circuits. I don't suppose you know anything that could do the trick."
She turned around to meet the man's eyes. Oh god. Now she has seen plenty of neck-bearded engineers and ugly jumpsuits in her day, but this man would have put them to shame. That get up was just embarrassing to even look at. That bowtie and those suspenders. He looked like a soon-to-be senile geography teacher.
"You need to be a complete moron or genius to dress like that. And one is much more likely."
She only said it partly under her breathe, not truly caring if he heard. Seriously, where was this man from where he would get away with looking like an idiot. Wheatley and him would likely get along.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
You're not a victim, but neither am I.
DATE: 8/06 (Week 1, Day 5)
RATING: G
SUMMARY: GLaDOS may need some potential repairs, and the Doctor has a thing for new tech.
Even below the ships deck, the weather was still leaking though the layers of corroding steel. It only attested to the horrible state GLaDOS was in. Not that she couldn't cope. She could find a way to get the damage of the salty water on her metal skin fixed easily. It was what was going on mentally that she was having trouble with. That woman was here. Or was it just more faulty wiring. But this time she could see her, hear her more clearly than before. Feel her. The android shook her head, trying to relieve her mind of the troubling thoughts that refused to yield their progress. All she could do for now, it seems, is try and fix what she could; and that was a few minor repairs.
The bowels of the steel beast were just as dank and disgusting as the rest of the ship; if not more so. Out of the corner of her eyes she could spot a few of the amalgamations that wandered the decks. They were no more than a nuisance. She continued onward to the tool room that she found earlier. It didn't have anything outstandingly useful. Basic tools that could be found in any tool shop. With a bit of digging she could find what she needed.
The light in the room flickered and swayed with the strong waves that threw the ship left and right. It only made the poor illumination even more difficult to work with. Fortunately, GLaDOS could make up for it. She began digging through on of the cabinets that lined the walls of the room; looking for anything that would help.
no subject
Irritating. Everything, though, everything was irritating these days-- the sound of shoes on iron, squeaky hinges, floating ghosts, the crash of rain, the roll of the ship. The sky mocked him, the walls angered him. The people grounded him, but as much as he wanted to ground them back, he hardly knew them - hardly knew them and hardly had the energy to keep it up, and thus, there he was, tweed thrown over a steel chair, sleeves rolled up, elbows coated in grease, fingers feeling like rust. The ship's tool room fared far better than the island's entire lack thereof, but it was still so primitive--
- He'd been in the corner, pulled up with his own meager collection of odds and ends, passing time by futzing with various ionic bonds (a slow, tedious process, but better than ruining a useful piece of metal trying to repair the ship when annoyed with the ship), when the click-click of shoes brought a woman in. Within a few seconds, he was already forgetting she'd arrived, but - no, forgetting would have been a self-torment, as she was... very distinctly not human.
Not human, and rummaging around the cabinets with a fervor that spoke of someone who had no clue what exactly they'd find.
It didn't take much mental consideration on the Doctor's part before he set a twisted bit of pipe on his chair and sprung forward, catching himself on a long table and peering, peering, sluggishly bored mind whirring into life over a possible distraction. His hopes weren't that high-- she smelt like metal, wires and electricity, but that could've been the flickering lights- overall emotions beyond irritation yet flat-lining, but all the same,
"Looking for something?"
Even in the middle of a funk, it was hard not to be curious.
no subject
It was then that she noticed a few scuffles and the clank of a metal pipe. Great. There was someone else in here. Just what she needed was some more prying eyes. Back at the island, there were plenty of places for solitude. This metal trap had closed around her and locked her away with some of the most unsavory individuals she could think of. An albino, a moron, and a mute. She could start a circus with them.
GLaDOS hoped that she could just ignored the other person that she was sharing the room with, but from the sounds of it, they were planning on imposing. They were light on their feet and ready to get closer. A energetic one, from the sounds of it; which means they will only be that much harder to sluff off. Being curt may give the hint, but she wasn't banking on it.
"Nothing in particular. Just something to clean the corrosion away from circuits. I don't suppose you know anything that could do the trick."
She turned around to meet the man's eyes. Oh god. Now she has seen plenty of neck-bearded engineers and ugly jumpsuits in her day, but this man would have put them to shame. That get up was just embarrassing to even look at. That bowtie and those suspenders. He looked like a soon-to-be senile geography teacher.
"You need to be a complete moron or genius to dress like that. And one is much more likely."
She only said it partly under her breathe, not truly caring if he heard. Seriously, where was this man from where he would get away with looking like an idiot. Wheatley and him would likely get along.