[Mops looks a little... off, compared to the NPCs. Her blood is black, which shows in the tint of her skin, her gray lips, her dark sclera. She doesn't stand exactly upright and her arms are long and heavy, with very large hands. Her teeth and nails aren't quite right either, both having been clipped down severely when she was cured.
Otherwise, she's tall but not incredibly so, very stocky, has a few wrinkles, and her graying dark hair is pulled back into a bun. A green visor goes over one eye and houses her assistive AI, Doc.]
hatching
[What Mops should be doing is evaluating the situation and these strangers while also calling on her twelve years in the Hygiene and Sanitation track of the EMC to one, get this cell not reeking, and two, reminisce about other times she's had to deal with weird goo. What Mops is doing instead is crying, and not like a stoic tear going down each cheek, though that's definitely how it started when she was being brought in. Now it's bad. Now she's sobbing into a clean rag she pulled out of her jumpsuit.]
Real humans...!
basecamp - mess hall
[Mops looks slightly nauseated watching people eat with their mouths. For her ears only, Doc says, None of them have the virus, you know. If natural humans had a chance of losing their minds at dinner, Jane Austen would have brought it up.
There's a port in her abdomen that she can spoon mash into. Mops up and blushes when she realizes people will see, and that the NPCs absolutely find this weird - the skin on her face gets darker and shinier - but she gets on with it.]
You'd think they'd never seen someone eat before.
basecamp - other
[The sound carries down the pipes and is audible long before you see Mops' feet and legs protruding from a crawlspace. She's on her back in a great puddle of water, working with a will at those selfsame pipes and trying to stop the leak she's lying in. Mops is a janitor, but on a Krakau ship that also means 'plumber', among other things.]
Hey, can you pass me that canister of solder? The little red one.
Marion "Mops" Adamopoulos | Janitors of the Post-Apocalypse | OTA
Otherwise, she's tall but not incredibly so, very stocky, has a few wrinkles, and her graying dark hair is pulled back into a bun. A green visor goes over one eye and houses her assistive AI, Doc.]
hatching
[What Mops should be doing is evaluating the situation and these strangers while also calling on her twelve years in the Hygiene and Sanitation track of the EMC to one, get this cell not reeking, and two, reminisce about other times she's had to deal with weird goo. What Mops is doing instead is crying, and not like a stoic tear going down each cheek, though that's definitely how it started when she was being brought in. Now it's bad. Now she's sobbing into a clean rag she pulled out of her jumpsuit.]
Real humans...!
basecamp - mess hall
[Mops looks slightly nauseated watching people eat with their mouths. For her ears only, Doc says, None of them have the virus, you know. If natural humans had a chance of losing their minds at dinner, Jane Austen would have brought it up.
There's a port in her abdomen that she can spoon mash into. Mops up and blushes when she realizes people will see, and that the NPCs absolutely find this weird - the skin on her face gets darker and shinier - but she gets on with it.]
You'd think they'd never seen someone eat before.
basecamp - other
[The sound carries down the pipes and is audible long before you see Mops' feet and legs protruding from a crawlspace. She's on her back in a great puddle of water, working with a will at those selfsame pipes and trying to stop the leak she's lying in. Mops is a janitor, but on a Krakau ship that also means 'plumber', among other things.]
Hey, can you pass me that canister of solder? The little red one.