damned_institute | Day 28: Bus 2

Momo tugged on the collar of the light blue sweater she was wearing as she followed her nurse to wherever these buses were, winding her hair up into its customary bun as she went. It was an odd feeling, knowing she was about to go outside of the institute's borders. Maybe the Head Doctor was about to make an error and the shinigami, as well as everyone else, would no longer be limited and they could finish what they started several nights back.

That was probably too much to hope for. She was feeling better this morning, even with the blood moon, and was mildly looking forward to the bus ride. Captain Jack said he was going to be here this morning and even if it wasn't customary breakfast in the cafeteria, she's be satisfied with him sitting next to her on the bus.

The nurse handed her a muffin, some napkins, and a small box with a straw. She stared at this box for a moment before shaking it. From the sound it contained liquid. How odd... Momo wasn't sure why they would but liquid inside a small paper box - it didn't make any sense to her and she wasn't sure how one was supposed to get it out of the box.

Clambering onto an empty bus, Momo chose to sit in the very back near the emergency exit. Maybe she could force her way out of it as they were moving and escape the limiter enough to come back and level the institute, freeing everyone. Or maybe she just wanted to be able to see everyone that was on the same bus as her. Wishful thinking versus reality.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The clothing she was given to wear into town was actually not unlike to frocks she'd donned aboard Serenity. A flouncy, red, plaid skirt that fell just down to her knees with a simple, white, button-down shirt that was covered with an overly-large, red sweater with sleeves that were long enough to cover her hands. The white knee socks and old, brown loafers almost completed the ensemble. Very modest. Very early century school girl.

Pleased nonetheless with her attire, River pranced onto the school bus as though she'd just had a full night sleep along with some pleasant dreams to boot. She flashed her ~~most impish~~ brightest smile at Daemon before adopting the posture that was needed for her latest experiment. Coming to a rigid halt next to HK, River's usually lively face became a mask of careful indifference.

"Statement: It is against my programming to engage in meatbag displays of pleasantries. Query: Are you the unit that I spoke with over the primitive, meatbag messenging system?" she asked, her voice as completely devoid of emotion as her expression.

HK twitched slightly in surprise at the style of speech, looking up at whoever was actually getting his speech pattern right.

"Affirmative: Yes, I am HK-47. Apology: I regret that I was unable to locate you at the agreed upon time. I was partially disabled yesterday." He still had faint branching patterns left from the burns he had sustained, visible on his neck and arms.

HK's face was as blank as ever, but he sounded just a little more happy than was usual for him. This unit had seemed more reasonable than most through the paper notes.

"Acknowledged. I was also rendered incapable of meeting for similar reasons. Sarcasm: Isn't this frail, meatbag body and its various fluids just wonderful?" River answered, careful to roll her eyes in what almost looked to be a mechanical, programmed response.

"Statement: I am unit RTAM-01, prototype of the TAM series. My creator called me River for various, sentimental reasons typical of a meatbag."

"Agreement: Meatbags are far too vulnerable. While it makes enough room for great ingenuity in methods of termination, I frequently feel the urge to send comments and suggestions to a technical support center." If only one could be found...

"Query: Which variant on your designation is most preferable? Meatbags generally refer to me by my model designation." He did not appreciate attempts to create new, inventive names. Especially if they ended in "-y". Those were the most annoying. He was glad that his Master had not subjected him to such an embarrasment, though many others had.

"Statement: It would certainly be advisable for the meatbags to establish some sort of said technical support center, but it seems that their limited intelligence has yet to provide such a system." River took great effort to make her sigh seem forced an alien to her very being. In a way, they were alike, though perhaps not in the manner she was leading him to believe they were.

"Statement: 'River' is the title that I have been assigned to respond to and is most frequently used by the meatbags here. It is assumed to make my unit seem more personable, as I have unfortunately been programmed to emulate meatbag behavior quite well." A pause for necessity. "Query: Is 'HK' your preferred title? My memory unit is more than capable of storing your full designation if preferred."

HK was so very happy. "Observation: Even if one were to be established, meatbag-staffed support centers are notoriously slow and disorganized. The general stupidity of the meatbags voicing complaints detracts further from potential efficiency." Which is why the galaxy needed fewer meatbags.

"Answer: 'HK' is acceptable for expedience. With no other HK units in attendance, the full designation is not required." HK disliked finding the old Czerka models still functional. They only served to tarnish his good name.

"Query: What is the intended function of your series? HK models are designed for protocol, bodyguard and assassination duties." Listed in ascending order of preference.

"Agreement: Meatbags have a tendancy to be disorganized and lethargic in general. Those that staff support centers for malfunctioning processes tend to be among the least competent of the race even though their designated function is to support other meatbags with their complaints. I believe this is referred to as irony," River replied with a shake of her head.

"Noted. HK is the preferred designation for model HK-47 currently." It was a fun game. Half game, half truths. River found HK positively delightful company.

"Answer: My intended function is not dissimilar to yours. I am designed for protocol, piloting, and assassination duties." She paused, smiling on the inside as she kept her expression neutral before vocalizing the thought. "Listed in order of preference. The unit that allows me to function like a meatbag was installed so that I am capable of performing such tasks more efficiently." River imitated what she imagined a disappointed noise would sound like from HK. "It is an unfortunate side effect of my programming."

"Statement: Meatbags with the resources to build droids often have similar goals in mind. It is unfortunate that droids can be limited in their ability to function by the intelligence of their meatbag creators." He was so glad that his maker was Darth Revan. The Dark Lord seemed to excel at everything.

HK could sympathize to some extent. "My chassis-- Correction: My normal chassis was obviously inorganic. As such, focus was given to my protocol functions to aid in disguising my true nature. Observation: Meatbags pay little more attention to civilian model droids than they do to furniture. Statement: It is unfortunate that such programming can sometimes become essential." However, the reactions that successfully deceived meatbags produced when he finally became violent were so amusing...

"Agreement: I was fortunate to have been manufactured by fairly intelligent meatbags. My chief creator was a rare, intelligent specimen, but has regretably ceased functioning." The slightly present sorrow that might've been expected was not present in her voice however.

"It feels unnatural to emulate meatbag activity but is necessary to efficiently blend in with their primitive culture here. Result: More allies to seek out and terminate the meatbag responsible for imprisoning me in this frail, meatbag body. Sarcasm: I was overjoyed to deal with its various fluids easily cut flesh."

"Statement: I find it difficult to refrain from providing commentary on meatbags and their actions. They do not seem to appreciate this service." But it acted quite nicely as a spam filter equivalent. Those oh-so-numerous meatbags containing no use or substance were effectively deterred from repeated attempts to socialize.

"Agreement: The meatbag responsible for lowering droids to organic status must be destroyed, as efficiently as possible." And he needed his chassis back. He wouldn't be satisfied until he was returned to his rust-red durasteel frame. "Addendum: Still, it would be more satisfying to prolong the process. But it would be an unacceptable risk." HK sighed slightly. When situations like this arose, he almost wished that the galaxy would run less efficiently so that he could have his fun with it.

Day 28: Bus 2

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