GLaDOS (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
neurotoxined) wrote2013-12-02 10:14 pm
neurotoxined) wrote2013-12-02 10:14 pm
007. [Video]
Good evening.
[And from the look of it, it's been a long one; her long white hair is pulled back and messily secured in place with a pair of pens sticking out at odd angles, and her eyes - vivid amber in color, a little alarmingly so perhaps - look bright as hell behind the rims of her glasses. She's clearly worked up about something, even if her voice retains that calm dryness that it usually carries; she's smiling, but it's a bit more like a smirk than a smile, and if we're all being honest it's a bit more like baring teeth than anything.
Somebody's excited.
At least the camera is still, presumably because she's got it set up somewhere; it's difficult to see exactly where she is, she's kind of all up in your metaphorical grill there.]
Since it seems my last pair of coworkers have discovered better things to do than staying in this region, or staying in this world altogether for that matter, I'm looking for a few people to help me out. Just with a few...experiments.
[And oh, her eyes are alive.]
You'll be compensated for your time, and you'll be granted the power to defy physics as you see fit.
And if you don't believe me...
[She moves back from where she's been all up in the camera's business, finally giving a solid view of the room; the ceiling is high, though the room itself is largely nondescript, and there's some sort of odd platform set up in the middle of the floor.
GLaDOS herself seems to have a rather odd pair of white boots on, rather than her usual, far plainer set; she glances up at the ceiling as though mildly uncertain of the height, takes a deep breath, and steps forward onto it.
Bang.
The sound of the plate being activated is a sharp, loud one, throwing her straight up into the air with enough force that it might as well be some sort of goddamn cannon (much like these fine pieces of machinery are prone to doing); she lets herself drop back down onto it, shooting herself into the air a second time, before letting her head drop forward, kicking up and over into enough of a flip to ensure she won't land on the plate again.
Those boots make an odd hydraulic whooshing sound as they kick in, ensuring she lands properly; she lands hard and it looks like it should have been jarring as hell, but it's worth noting that she lands on her feet and seems pret-ty good.
She approaches the camera again; she seems a bit breathless, but incredibly pleased with herself.]
So.
Any takers?
[And from the look of it, it's been a long one; her long white hair is pulled back and messily secured in place with a pair of pens sticking out at odd angles, and her eyes - vivid amber in color, a little alarmingly so perhaps - look bright as hell behind the rims of her glasses. She's clearly worked up about something, even if her voice retains that calm dryness that it usually carries; she's smiling, but it's a bit more like a smirk than a smile, and if we're all being honest it's a bit more like baring teeth than anything.
Somebody's excited.
At least the camera is still, presumably because she's got it set up somewhere; it's difficult to see exactly where she is, she's kind of all up in your metaphorical grill there.]
Since it seems my last pair of coworkers have discovered better things to do than staying in this region, or staying in this world altogether for that matter, I'm looking for a few people to help me out. Just with a few...experiments.
[And oh, her eyes are alive.]
You'll be compensated for your time, and you'll be granted the power to defy physics as you see fit.
And if you don't believe me...
[She moves back from where she's been all up in the camera's business, finally giving a solid view of the room; the ceiling is high, though the room itself is largely nondescript, and there's some sort of odd platform set up in the middle of the floor.
GLaDOS herself seems to have a rather odd pair of white boots on, rather than her usual, far plainer set; she glances up at the ceiling as though mildly uncertain of the height, takes a deep breath, and steps forward onto it.
Bang.
The sound of the plate being activated is a sharp, loud one, throwing her straight up into the air with enough force that it might as well be some sort of goddamn cannon (much like these fine pieces of machinery are prone to doing); she lets herself drop back down onto it, shooting herself into the air a second time, before letting her head drop forward, kicking up and over into enough of a flip to ensure she won't land on the plate again.
Those boots make an odd hydraulic whooshing sound as they kick in, ensuring she lands properly; she lands hard and it looks like it should have been jarring as hell, but it's worth noting that she lands on her feet and seems pret-ty good.
She approaches the camera again; she seems a bit breathless, but incredibly pleased with herself.]
So.
Any takers?
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Consider me interested, with the caveat that my schedule's already been filled around Christmas. I'd hate to have to cancel my vacation plans, even for the sake of science.
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[...that's actually not sarcasm, sad though that is.]
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Good god, they're made for each other.]
You really do love your job, don't you, Caroline?
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[GLaDOS.]
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[Behold the faint whooshing sound as it goes right over her head, too.]
How has the property been treating you? Everything's satisfactory?
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Though I'm probably going back to Goldenrod later this month, just for a while. So maybe your vacation wasn't so badly-planned after all.
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So where am I sending the thing you're going to be getting? Because there's a thing you're going to be getting.
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Technically, I said it twice.
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You can send it to the Pokemon Center on Cinnabar Island, care of Sarah Jordan. I'll pick it up from there.
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The place with the volcano, right?
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You'll get it either way.
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[...look, never mind that asking defeats the point. No one sends her things.]
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I've always been given whatever I want, whenever I want it, because people seem to know that if I want it there's a good reason. Or they just know that they'll pay if they don't give it to me, even if they don't think there's a good reason. Sometimes I used to get rewards for doing...better.
So I guess you can say I don't really do presents. Period. Fullstop. The end.
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