trans_9 | All work and no play...

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All work and no play...

There is an AI on the ship that goes by the name Bender Stack. It only pops up now and again, and now its function may finally be somewhat clear.

"Hey. Hey meatbag!" says a grating voice.

Bender Stack chases people away from work when they've been doing too much of it.

This is why Brainiac 5 leaves the Special Weapons Division and by the time he gets up to the Living Area (having decided to eat anyway if the irritating AI is going to heckle him out of work) he's about at his wit's end.

"--For the last time, I am not going to build you a robot prostitute! You're an AI, not a mechanoid, you couldn't interface with it anyway."

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Brainy's fingers twitch slightly against his omnicom. It's not that no one ever asks for his company to eat with them. It's just that happens back home, not on the ship. It's a nice change back to what he's used to.

"Yes. That would be acceptable. I am in need of sustenance."

His formality is too weird but god help her she finds it sort of charming, even if listening to him sometimes reminds her of watching Spock on Star Trek as a little girl. (Or maybe that's WHY it's charming...)

"C'mon. Lesse how much of that sludge I can handle before I feel sick THIS time." She nods her head for him to follow and starts walking toward the mess hall. "You get that power source thing up and running finally?"

But he must always use exact, precise wording (http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/SesquipedalianLoquaciousness)! He's a smart alien! They do that.

"Yes. The lab is making considerable progress, and is now close to full functionality," Brainy says, actually putting his omnicom away, tucking it into his belt. "Once it's fully functional, we'll most likely be making probes to aid in exploration of the ship."

"Sounds like a step in the right direction. This place has to be bigger than the areas we're in so far."

She's not just saying that because she's starting to go a bit stir-crazy. Not at all.

"I'm still trying to figure out who would build something like this. Some of the structures... well I can only assume they're meant to be artistic but they're just creepy beyond reason."

"You'd be surprised what some species find aesthetically pleasing. When I pay attention to it, I find most human art to be incredibly distasteful," he says. "But then, I haven't much interest in art, in general."

"Well, not all things are for all people." She shrugs a little as they make their way into the mess hall. "Do Coulan's really have much in the way of arts and entertainment in the first place?"

"Not as much as other planets. Our world is primarily one of scientists, medical professionals, and information brokers," he says, "but there are occasional artists, especially those that engage in architectural design. Coluans generally consider other species as lacking proper appreciation of space and form in their art."

"Ugh, given the layouts of some houses I've seen I can't blame them for that." Brenda makes a face, both at the thought of the upstairs bathroom in her old home and at the slop currently being dispensed onto her tray.

"There's a lot to be said about knowing how to use the space you're given effectively, really. Architecture is a pretty nice marriage of art and math."

"Precisely. It's not difficult to see how it would appeal to a race primarily composed of intellectuals."

Brainy grimaces only slightly as his tray is slopped.

"What about music? They much for that?" She picks a table at random and slides into a seat, picking up a first spoonful of slop and muttering to herself about how much she always liked cream of wheat as a kid before managing to get it in her mouth, eyes closed.

"Mostly compositions similar to Earth Classical and operatic performances."

He seems a little less bothered by the food. It is certainly disgusting, but he's had to live on rations before, when the team was lost, and Coluan food is a little bland on its own.

"I'm told Coluan music is rather uninspired compared to that of other worlds, but it's all cacophonous noise to me."

Brenda sucks back another mouthful of the slop and shivers as she swallows.

"Really? You've never gotten a song stuck in your head or heard something you sort of liked?" She taps her spoon against her lips for a second before continuing.

"You know some people on Earth think that getting an infant to listen to classical music in the womb or as a child helps them connect the thinking parts of their brain and makes them more intelligent or helps them to learn. Music is a huge part of teaching very young children actually. And, I mean, some people call bullshit about it but I know I study way better with some familiar tunes on in the background."

This is nice; talking about something so normal. ~~With the alien on the crazy spaceship while eating cream of slop. Yeah.~~

"I've never listened to music more than in passing," Brainy says. "The music some of my team-mates listened to was atrocious. It had a tendency to be more off-putting than anything."

"Maybe you just haven't hit on anything you like. I mean, just on Earth there's a billion styles forget the rest of the universe. I can't really imagine a society without music though."

That brings up another thought.

"Do Coulan's have holidays?"

"Not as such, no. The United Planets as a whole celebrates several holidays, such as Lar Gand Day, and Legion Appreciation Day, but Coluans typically lack such sentimentality."

He goes on, "One of the only dates in recent history that was of significant note was the liberation of Colu from the Computer Tyrants, which was accompanied by its own tragedies. Holidays are usually times of celebration--Colu has very few occurrences in its history worth celebrating."

"You should just INVENT holidays for no good reason like we do." Brenda declares, pointing at him with her spoon. "I'm mean technically there's a historical significance to Valentines Day or something, but in the end it's all just consumerism and half-price chocolate. You could pronounce some random date 'Science Day' and give everyone a day off work to go play with lasers and particle accelerators or something."

"I scarcely see the need for it. Colu doesn't have a free market economy, ergo such consumerism would be misplaced. The planet merely participates in a greater market, as a whole. Every day Coluans toil for the planetary interest, and at night they interface with the Sleepnet, where the day's harvest of knowledge is shared with the rest of the populace, and collected by the Colugov information brokers. Those with the most valuable ideas are more highly rewarded in status, resources, and governmental perks."

Edited 2009-04-14 06:36 (UTC)

Brenda just stares at him for a second.

"...holy mother of god you grew up in the place of all things not fun, I'm telling you. If we ever get out of here I'm taking you to a water park or something. Not necessarily because I think you'd like it, but more because I want to see if exposing you to exciting physical activity with no real purpose would make your head explode."

Brainy shrugs.

"My world--and time--is merely different from your own."

He doesn't put much thought to his upbringing on Colu. There's a reason he doesn't.

Edited 2009-04-14 07:32 (UTC)

"You'll have to forgive me if I'm not itching to visit it."

She manages to down another mouthful of slop, then just puts down her spoon with a groan.

"Ugh, I'd need a funnel and no gag-reflex to finish this stuff. How did whatever crew was here before LIVE like this?"

"If you did want to visit, I certainly wouldn't be able to give you the tour," he remarks idly, somewhat amused.

"As for our primary means of nourishment, given that we haven't seen the original crew of this ship--implying that something likely killed them all--perhaps you've incriminated the culprit responsible with some unintentional perspicaciousness," he says, pointing at his slop with the piece of his tray in his hand.

It takes her a second to decipher that but when she does she laughs.

"I was just saying to Kate the other day that I bet ten bucks the previous crew went postal over the food and offed each other in desperation for real meat or something. Or a salad. Maybe they were cannibal plant people. If we ever get access to the ship logs or something and I find out I was right..."

She just shakes her head and digs up another spoonful, shutting her eyes and managing another swallow.

"Does this place ever stop anywhere? Like... space shore leave?"

Edited 2009-04-14 08:29 (UTC)

"It hasn't so far," he says. "Mind you, it's moderately difficult to keep a large group imprisoned if you actually let them out."

Oh and he's just utterly dashed her hopes of ever tasting polenta again. She pouts, she can't help it, and props her chin on one hand.

"Dammit, maybe we're just a giant sociology experiment here." Brenda stirs her slop idly with her spoon. "This 'ship' is some terrifying evil alien's ant-farm and it just wants to see how long it takes each group of new podlings to kill each other. The signs of a previous crew are just the experiment before us. Like a cycle of murder mystery dinner parties but with real murder."

"I believe we've been conscripted for war, given the cross-selection of individuals here," Brainy says, popping some of his tray into his mouth, rather neatly. It's kind of remarkable how neatly he's managing to eat slop.

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