Find it enjoyable? 

...We aren't programmed to enjoy or find things pleasurable. It's merely a way to pass time. 

...

…do you?

It's a...It's supposed to be something enjoyable I suppose. Or something to pass the time.

...

Yes.

Why would you need to read?

I...suppose because they were a gift. And I wouldn't want them to go to waste. [He hesitates.] Is that unusual?

...

…why are you reading?

[So clearly not used to this, Virgil looks up with a start from the book that he had been reading.]

....Is something the matter?

...

A box marked ♍ was left near the A.I. labs. Within were two neatly wrapped bundles, containing volumes of the works of mystery novelist Raymond Chandler and a whimsical box set of 'Choose Your Own Adventure' books. A short letter is attached.

Virgil,

I never had a chance to properly thank you for saving all of our lives on that dreadful planet. You kept me grounded and prevented me from committing an unforgivable act. This is not nearly enough compensation for your selfless kindness and bravery. While I consider myself in lifelong debt to you, I hope you find some entertainment in the selections, nevertheless.

- Agent Helena

[Gifts and packages, it seems are a new but regular occurrence onboard the Equinox and Virgil had thought that his gift from a mysterious gift giver had been the first and last he would ever see in terms of a present to him but apparently he thought wrong. The star sign on the package is clearly meant for him and no one else. Virgil picks it up, unsure at first before taking a look around to see if anyone else had received something of the like before moving quickly towards his commandeered room. 

The letter is short, to the point and printed in the clean penmanship he would expect of a medic. It's immediate for him to say shake his head; Helena owed him nothing, it had been his job and nothing more than that. And yet, this act of kindness made something stir in his circuitry and for just a brief moment he allowed himself to feel that instead of push it away in shame. The letter is set aside before he goes to unwrap the package with careful hands, and when he does, he can't help but smile in a way that doesn't make him seem like a robot at all.] 

...You could always do things to preoccupy yourself until the time being?

Someone, please tell me,

I’m confused by that saying, Virgil. If you’re not waiting, then what else are you supposed to do?

F.L.I.S.S has many things. I believe that that's one of them although to be fair I haven't ever required the use of it...

Do you mind if I ask what you were doing with a hydrogen ball? 

Lost Invention

I didn't want to assume anything. 

And I'm positive that a gift will appear sooner or later. There's a human saying- I believe it goes something like, 'Good things come to those who wait'? 

Someone, please tell me,

It is when I don’t get one.

I’m surprised, Virgil, I thought that the justification was quite obvious.

Is gift giving a bad thing, Candice? 

Someone, please tell me,

when did it become present time?

"I could take a look at it if you wanted, sir," he responded automatically. He knew that he wasn't built to be a mechanical A.I. but logically speaking he was still capable of being a very good one at least compared to being a military asset. Virgil was quick to locate the coffee machine that was placed in a rather central part of the kitchen, and he made short strides over to the machine, taking it in his hands wondering if perhaps the most efficient way would be to take it apart. There were other small kitchens located throughout the Equinox so if someone else came looking for caffeine in the middle of the night, he could always direct them there.

Just as he was about to begin, he stopped, realizing that the older agent was paying a curious amount of attention towards the parts that had been scattered out on the table. Whether the interest was simply because it was there or because he truly wanted to know what they were there for escaped him. It would make sense either way, he supposed. He hadn't been very inconspicuous about what he was doing. He could have very well done this all in his salvaged room, but for whatever reason Virgil hadn't felt right being all alone in that room so he had moved to their current location instead. 

He was roused from his thoughts when Bismarck spoke again and he was quick to register that the man was trying to get at a joke, although he wasn't entirely sure how to react. The normal response was to laugh, wasn't it? Parachutes were the common device to use when one was falling or jumping from a plane and the use of the bird's name was meant to be something of a pun. His lips twitched ever so slightly, although even Virgil wasn't sure if it was because he was amused or because it was a knee jerk reaction of his programming. Thankfully he was saved from having to think too much about it- a suggestion had been made. 

"Tricks?" he asked inquiringly, putting the coffee machine back on the counter before making his way over to the table where all the parts still lay. "I suppose it could be programmed," Virgil replied after a moment. "If they'll be able to fly then I suppose that flips shouldn't be too much of a stretch for them." He paused again as he took up a delicately shaped wing in his hand, letting it lie there against his synthetic skin. "Do birds normally do that sort of thing in nature?" 

Things We Lost | Bismarck & Virgil

The thought of the robotic birds flying around seemed so radical to him. Virgil must be cool if he was putting them together. Maybe not jive, but cool all the same. He could attach a name to the face but he couldn’t attach a partner or team to the name. Asking would be stupid. Or rather, it would make him sound stupid. Sounding stupid was something Bismarck did well enough when he didn’t realize it, there was no reason to confirm that something was stupid and say it anyway if it was avoidable. 

"Nah, it’s not for coffee, the machine never wants to work for me." He wasn’t paying attention to what he was saying, more looking at the pieces scattered around on the table. He picked up the mug and took a sip of the cold milk. Wanted to drink it all before it got warm. The cogs and pieces didn’t hold much meaning for him. Unless it was guns he wasn’t too good with technology, his inability to make coffee a testament to that. He cocked his head to the side when he saw the charms. Furrowed his brow. There was a slow dawn of understanding after a few seconds of looking. Two of the star sign things for the two who’d been zapped by the EMP. He grunted at this and looked somewhere else. No reason to talk about it. Especially with someone he didn’t know from a hole in the wall. Instead he took another sip of milk. What team were the two done in by the EMP on? Not Alpha and not Gamma either. He knew it wasn’t Delta. If the fingers he had been counting out the team names on meant anything, that meant the only other option was Beta. And underneath that there was the feeling that he had his head too far up his own behind. I was in medbay for a freakin week, I don’t think anyone’s gonna blame me for gettin’ some of the details fuzzy. "Hey, I got one, how does a bird with a broken wing manage to land safely? With a sparrowchute." He chucked at his own joke because he always chuckled at his own jokes.

"Heh, geddit? Sparrowchute. Y’know what would be cool? If you could like, make it so they could do tricks and stuff in the air, the birds, I mean." Bismarck brought the mug to his lips and chugged more milk.

Have you asked F.L.I.S.S.? Perhaps she would be able to cover more ground than we would be able to. It would also save you the time, I'm sure. 

Lost Invention

Slipped inside the first couple of pages of the book there's a little note tucked away, almost as if the sender was afraid to let it be advertised too much.

I saw this at a bookstore window and thought of your bird. I don't know if this would actually help with anything, but I couldn't not. Hope you like it.

[Virgil isn't certain that the book is intended for him, but it's left near his assigned sleeping pod. Still. It could be a mistake. Thinking it was meant for another, he leafs through the pages only to find the scrawled note and maybe it is for him because he isn't aware of other people aboard the ship who have been looking at birds. 

After a moment a slow smile spreads on his lips and he lets out a slight, pleased laugh, looking at the book with childlike awe. Gifts hadn't ever been something he expected to receive before and he supposes this would be his first present. He makes a note to find the person who gifted him the book.] 

Did you need any help locating it? 

Lost Invention

My-my hy-hydro-hydrogen ball is gone!

His hands would have moved skilfully and smoothly even if Virgil hadn't been intently paying attention to what he was doing. There were certain perks to being an A.I. and he supposed that was one of them. He could multi-task and it would be as easy as breathing if his kind needed to breathe and he could have queued a movie to play in his database as he worked, but he didn't. Virgil thought that he owed it to his fallen comrades to pour as much of himself as he could into the robotic birds he was piecing together in his hands. 

So when someone entered the kitchen (Agent Bismarck. Team Delta. Specializes in heavy artillery.), it only took Virgil by slight surprise. His eyes looked away momentarily, hands still working, never faulting, hesitating only slightly because it had been a while since he had properly interacted with anyone else. Instead, the robot settled on a slight nod of acknowledgement before his eyes flitted back to the bird in his hand. Was it a little nerve wrecking that someone else could see him putting together the birds? Maybe. But Virgil had to remind himself that he did not feel nervousnesses or any other sort of emotion. He was good at going unnoticed though, and he could only assume that the agent would finish what he came in here for before departing again. 

Virgil's head jerked up at the sound of the voice, realizing a beat later that Bismarck was speaking to him. "...I suppose. Or, that's what I intend their programming to do," he finally answered after finding his voice. His mind went briefly back to the first one that he had fixed up and where it sat perched on a shelf in his trinkets room on standby. That one had been broken when he had found it, but it was still far more intact than these ones. He had little faith in himself when it came to many things, and one of them was being able to make these fly. "Of course, that's assuming that the calculations I made will allow them to do so." 

He fell silent, unsure about what else to say to someone that he hadn't ever spoken to in the past. Thankfully, a mistake on the agent's part saved Virgil from having to worry over that. Green eyes looked up just in time to see liquid spilling over the rim of the mug and his long limbs reacted before he could really think. "Ah-," his hands slipped the pieces of whatever he was working on onto the table gently and he was across the kitchen in several short strides grabbing a cloth. "Here. Perhaps sleep would be a better choice than more coffee, sir." Virgil could only assume it was coffee. Most people on board seemed to prefer that or tea, and he had yet to see anyone want a full glass of milk before bed. 

Things We Lost | Bismarck & Virgil

When we went to bed he had expected to fall asleep. Instead hours later he was still drifting into that twilight zone between waking and sleeping. Half formed images that might have been the beginnings of dreams floated by in clusters. Odd thoughts whizzed by and churned but he could not grasp them. Maybe for the better. He had opened his eyes and looked at the wall for the fifth time before he threw the thin blanket off himself and sat up.

It’s not that he was hungry. It was a habit to go rifle through the fridge. Try to make a cup of coffee. To sit at the small table in the kitchen and try to throw pieces of food into the trash. To talk with whoever happened to be there or pass by. The kitchen was a dependable distraction. And his collection of food related knock knock jokes was impressive. He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand and padded barefoot to the kitchen. When he opened his eyes he had twisted to the side and listened. The ship didn’t feel so secure. Not with the memories of the attack in his head. He remembered putting the guns in the sink and fridge for Charleston. Back then it had seemed almost funny. Bismarck had drifted to the kitchen. He stood in the place where the kitchen connected to the hallway for a moment. Finding someone was not uncommon. Even though the ship was big, the kitchen was a center of activity. Some stupid part of him thought it was Peter for an instant, sitting there putting together birds. The cogs and wheels and bits of machinery all being pieced together. No, he realized before he had the chance to make a butt out of himself that it was not Peter. Wishful thinking. It was Virgil, one of those who he’d seen around but never really talked to. Still the idea of robotic birds interested him. He walked to the fridge but really was just trying to get a closer look, keeping his head swiveled around his shoulder while he rooted around for the milk. "Say, those gonna be able to fly when you’re done? ‘Cause that’d be kinda cool." He took out a metal mug that looked less than clean and slapped it on the counter and sloshed in some milk that might not’ve been milk at all but he wasn’t the type to go hunting around for an ingredients label or to really read labels at all. Bismarck’s eyes were so focused on the birds that he filled the mug dangerously high. "Oh frick." He muttered.

favorite celebrity meme: [2/5] outfits

Kate Kingsley book party - April 5th, 2010 

 agentdenver said: kermit are u on crack that isn’t gemini.

yes i am thank you for noticing derpba mISSED YOU TOO JERK

 aiqueenandy said: VIRRGGIIIILLLLLLLLLL

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