In full, minute detail, as opposed to broad-strokes.
Like a log file.
"The feeling is reciprocated. Though it is noted that there is no proper ability to reciprocate available at the moment."
Really, that's how it always goes with the Primordial. The towering, shapely goddess tilts her head to the other way, looking down at the little Force-sensitive machine. Then she lets out a sweet, clear laugh, leaning down and sending strange things through the droid's circuits with the way she ruffles its 'hair' with comforting hands. Strange feelings, but surely it can comprehend safety, or the absence of a threat, at the very least.
[As far as I am concerned, you are reciprocating just fine. Even if you don't think you are. Whether or not you are 'truly' feeling is a matter for whoever built your mind, nothing more. Your feelings are real enough to me, half-soul.]
This just in.
Yamal has found a bar. At the moment, the shipgirl has all but ditched the Donchaka tribe - if they don't come along, that is - to drink half the station under the table and make some good money while doing it. Surrounded by a pile of passed out men and women and aliens about three bodies tall, several dozen emptied mugs piled behind the bar, the ever-teasing Icebreaker is the picture of contentness. Right now, she's run out of challengers, and is scanning the room, teasingly beckoning to the remaining patrons.
"What? No one else wants to try me? Come on, I'm getting bored here~" she purrs, predatory glint in her dark eyes.
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Topic: Trespassers of the Multiverse: Gaiden [IC] Four is Death... (Read 766708 times)