Thirsty (open)

[∴ Jacob]

Need caffeine, Jacob thought, and his Gift went to work. The on-board wireless connection in the vending machine that was usually used for credit and cellular phone payments (as well as sending low stock notifications) switched gears and searched for the nutrition facts of its contents online. When it located the most highly-caffeinated option, it dispensed it free of charge, and its LED screen flashed a cheery, "ENJOY YOUR REFRESHMENT, JQOB."

This imitation of sentience was, of course, a purely pointless and self-serving gesture Jacob was fully responsible for; the machine went immediately back to normal when he was finished with it.

Jacob retrieved his beverage and frowned at the tab on it. If only he could make the can open itself — his fingers were made for coding, not man-handling aluminum cans. He walked back to his dorm, struggling to get his spindly fingers under the metal tab, and was immediately set upon by a vicious beast.

"I knew it! The only time you leave the room is to fill yourself up with that junk. Gross."

Jacob shrugged, finally managing to pop the can open. His friend seemed to expect a retort, and only went on when Jacob sipped his drink instead of speaking.

"Well, anyway, hurry up and drink that garbage. I need the can." Laramie held his hand out as if expecting Jacob to down the entire thing in one go.

"Cool your jets, Larry," Jacob said, taking another sip. His voice was smooth and calm, and that seemed to be the only thing stopping 'Larry' from yelling at Jacob for using his least favourite nickname. Still, Jacob could see he was fuming.

He boldly turned his back on his irate friend and stepped into his room, returning soon after with a dirty plate covered in empty soda cans. This peace offering seemed to instantly appease Laramie, who took the plate and rushed off to the kitchen, careful not to drop any of the cans.

Jacob followed him at his own pace, strutting into the room and leaning on the stove with stunning nonchalance. The appliance was, for some reason, pulled away from the wall, and was in prime leaning real estate, right behind Laramie. The other student was crushing cans with fervour, both stomping on them and using the can-crusher attached to the wall.

"What's your rush?" Jacob inquired.

"Oven's... a blast furnace... for today," Laramie explained between crushings. "It won't... last long."

"Is a little hot in here," Jacob noted. Very hot, and uncomfortably so. He didn't like sweating. And there was a smell, also not very pleasant.

Laramie hmm'd his agreement, sparing only a glance in Jacob's direction before going back to his cans with a smile in his eyes.

"You may want to do something about your jacket," he suggested, prompting Jacob to cease leaning on the oven to examine the article of clothing in question.

There was a yelp that could be heard from the hall outside their dorm, and a moment later a burning Jacob sprung out of the door like a one-way Jack-in-the-box, jumping around and staring furiously at the ceiling for no apparent reason.

Or at least, no reason that was apparent before the sprinkler on the roof doused him in ice-cold water, smothering the flames that Jacob was gingerly attempting to pat out with his bare hands. He'd have completed the whole spectacle in his room if it wasn't for the fact that they had removed the sprinklers in their dorm in the interest of protecting their electronics against pranksters or careless pyros.

It was only at this time, soaked but safe from the fire, that he noticed there had been another under the sprinkler he had activated. The rest of the hall was completely safe, but this unfortunate individual had just been in the process of passing Jacob's dorm when he'd burst out of it, and wasn't exactly looking dry.

"Damn, er... drills," he said, the shock of the whole ordeal leaving him uncharacteristically lame.

[Ithica Pettineo]

ooc; hope you don't mind me. D:

Ithica Pettineo was having an off day. He had woken up this morning in a genuinely good mood. Then he had ventured outside for fresh air and got chased by a park bench he had accidentally Animated. This resulted in him being covered in dirt, his clothes full of holes, and his hair containing various species of foliage. Ithica normally didn't let such things bother him, but he had been carrying Rosie, and she had smarted off to the point that Ithica quite literally ripped her head off. Woops. Now he had to find somebody who could sew (and most people here weren't domestic.)

He had been on the way to his dorm to try his hand at sewing, when he heard a shriek from inside a dorm. Instinctively he hid behind a plant, holding his bookbag in front of him in a lame attempt at camouflage. Then water. Lots of it. He threw his bookbag across the hall, later regretting it since he had Rosie in there. Water damage or a cracked skull. Sometimes the demon just didn't think. He stepped out from behind the plant, mud dripping from his hair into a puddle around his feet. He looked up at the sprinkler, down the hall, and finally at the person who had been speaking to him.

He was silent, trying to formulate an appropriate response. "Oh. Drills. For one sprinkler." Ithica offered a brief smile. He walked closer, picking his bookbag up and putting it around his shoulders. He rubbed his hands against his pants in a futile effort to get them dry. "I'm Ithica." He offered his hand, then promptly dropped it when he remembered that it was wet. "And this is Rosie!" Ithica took the doll's head out of his bookbag, her blonde hair plastered to her porcelain forehead.

"I'm wet." The doll growled, glaring at Ithica. "And bodyless." She stared at the new boy, glaring at him as well. "Better be careful around the stupid demon. He'll rip your head off, too." Rosie sulked, pouting.

Ithica's smile dropped. "I couldn't rip your head off!" He raised his hands innocently, then fumbled to catch Rosie, forgetting she didn't have a body. He put her back in his bag, chuckling nervously. First impressions weren't his forte.

[∴ Jacob]

OOC: Of course not (:

Jacob initially regarded the other with guarded curiosity; he didn't look like much, but in a school like this it was best not to make even the most wimpy looking people angry if it could be avoided. However, when Ithica turned out to be at the very least slightly friendly, Jacob immediately slid into the familiar act — bored on the inside, subdued friendliness outwardly.

"It was actually..." he pointed to the still-crispy patch surrounding the new hole in his blazer, through which his no-longer-white dress shirt could be seen. He didn't offer further explanation, other than a non-committal, "Room-mates," as if Ithica would know exactly what he was talking about from past experience.

He gave a cursory introduction ("Jacob," and a nod) solely in the interest of not being intentionally abrasive, and was prepared to say goodbye immediately, muttering something about important school work to get to, when Rosie came out of the bag.

There was a split second where Jacob was sure this man was a lunatic, pulling body-less dolls from his bag and introducing them by name as though it was a perfectly normal thing to do. And then it spoke, and Jacob was hooked like a prize fish, complete with wide eyes and gaping mouth. Suddenly he didn't care so much about his wrecked jacket or soaking wet self.

Beyond the fact that the doll was speaking — with accurate tone, emphasis, and grammar — and was clearly speaking about things as they were happening — it certainly wasn't a recording — Jacob was paying very little attention to what was being said. He was too busy staring, his mind racing as he struggled to make sense of it. Could it be...?

He frowned when the man put the head back in its bag. "Was that..." His hand unconsciously lifted from his side, as though he could reach out and grab the doll. "Was that a— a sentient robotic head?" It seemed like the only explanation, but the fact that he had been striving to create artificial intelligence his entire life with no luck loaned little credibility to the idea. People's deepest desires simply weren't satisfied by chance encounters in the halls outside their university dorms.

[Ithica Pettineo]

Ithica looked at the jacket, then towards the dorm room, his eyebrow raised. What were they doing in there? He sniffed, smelling the faint smell of.. well, he couldn't smell much besides damp clothes and burnt jackets. "Yeah. Roommates," he responded lamely. He didn't have one, but he had been dormed with somebody in the Academy once (before he had moved out due to Ithica accidentally bringing a barrel of monkeys to life).

Ithica wasn't accustomed to people being so curious about Rosie -- and if they were, they never really let him know. "She's sentient," he said, putting an emphasis on 'she' (Rosie wasn't fond of being called an 'it'). "But not robotic." He took the head back out, offering it to Jacob. "She's a porcelain doll, and I accidentally broke her. I was going to take it back to my dorm to fix her," He explained, pulling the rest of her body out. Her hands were on her hips, and he could tell she was severely annoyed at being manhandled. "Or try to fix her."

"I bring things to life." He explained, rubbing his neck sheepishly. "Like watches, dolls, and...oh, I was chased by a bench this afternoon." He pointed to the mud and twigs on his body. "It ran me over and complained about how everybody took it from granted, walking all over it and sitting on it.." Ithica trailed off. "I have trouble shutting them up though." He looked pointedly at the blonde doll.

Rosie rolled her glassy eyes to Jacob. "He's a terrible demon. You know that old show 'Casper the Friendly Ghost'? Meet 'Ithica the Friendly Demon Who Never Shuts Up.'" Her arms crossed, looking kind of strange since they were just hanging limply from Ithi's hand.

Ithica frowned at her, put off by her rudeness towards people. He looked up towards Jacob, smiling once more. "What can you do?" He asked, not sure how to phrase the question better. Saying "what's your gift" could imply that he was Gifted, when he was a vampire or werewolf or faerie. Oh my. Ithica had a feeling (although he made it a rule not to trust his intuition anymore) that his gift was something to do with technology, due to the clear curiosity when he thought Rosie was a sentient robotic head. Or he could have a power nothing to do with technology and Ithica was just being presumptuous. Another reason he didn't trust his intuition.

[∴ Jacob]

Jacob frowned ever-so-slightly when Ithica explained that the doll wasn't robotic, his momentary elation at the confirmation of sentience swept aside by disappointment. He didn't quite understand what was really going on, but he had been given a no regardless. The head wasn't a machine. Perhaps it was a very strange demon? The size would usually denote a fairy, but most fae seemed to need their bodies to do any sort of living.

He took the head from Ithica regardless; his curiosity had only diminished, it was not sated. When Ithica informed him that it was indeed what it appeared to be, a doll, he ceased staring at the head long enough to shoot a quizzical look the other student. Was this some kind of mind trick? He hated those psychic types, always messing with the sanctity of the brain.

But no, it turned out to be something far more interesting. Jacob's interest was piqued once more, though he was inwardly chiding himself for not figuring it out earlier. Demonic Traits were far more varied than Gifts, it should have been obvious there could be a demon out there with the ability to bring things to life. His trailing thoughts drowned out Ithica's anecdote, and he only distantly listened to what 'Rosie' had to say, lifting the doll's head to eye-level for closer examination as she spoke.

Asked a direct question, he snapped out of his reverie, though his eyes remained on Rosie for the time being.

"You have fourteen leaf fragments over a quarter inch in size visible in your hair, your glasses are crooked at an angle of eight degrees, and drying your hands on wet pants didn't accomplish very much," he stated, without looking up. "That's what I can do. Oh, and this." The lights flickered, too regular a pattern for it to be an electrical problem, and a sprinkler a ways behind him let out a short spurt of water.

"Not nearly as interesting as what you can do, as far as I'm concerned." Technically, his group consisted of only Technomancers, but this could really make things interesting. "Would I be correct in assuming you could do the same thing to a machine?" Again, technically, bringing a machine to life in the literal sense was not AI, but perhaps it would prove to be even better?

[Ithica Pettineo]

Ithica ran a finger through his hair, trying to get the twigs out of it. Ithica felt momentary pride as he realized he had been right in assuming for once. He did have something to do with technology. And.. oh, he had the memory thing. Ithica was about to say that he also had that, but his words died off realizing that Jacob really wasn't interested in what he had to say.

"Yeah.." He nodded. "I do it all the time to my watch," Ithica smiled, and reflected on his pun. "But I don't have control over things once they're alive, so robots could go on a killing spree...well, I guess with your gift you could control them a bit better." But perhaps this guy would enjoy robots going on killing sprees and murdering people with lasers. Ithica, the eternal optimist, was almost sixty percent sure that this guy wasn't a homicidal maniac.

Ithica was flattered by the attention, but a little wary about the way the other was examining Rosie. Ithica put her body back in his bag, along with his glasses (he had forgotten he was wearing them). "Does it hurt?" He asked, his finger touching his own lip. "Your ring, that is." Ithica would never get one, not for all the amazing conversations he could have with it. What if it impaired with his ability to eat? Tragic.


[ooc; Perhaps you shouldn't have exalted my patience when I respond with this crap post. D:]

[∴ Jacob]

OOC: I'm guessing he wasn't actually wearing glasses? Thanks for accommodating it anyway :P

Jacob was getting excited now (an extremely rare occurrence, especially considering he wasn't sitting in front of his computer this time, as he usually would be when anything that interested him cropped up). For reasons more than one, he felt his façade sliding away. The more selfish reason being that giving the cold shoulder to someone you wanted help from was not a good idea, the more noble being that as his interest in Ithica increased, his mind allowed him to pick out some of the strange demon's more likeable characteristics.

"I'm not interested in robots," Jacob explained, waving the very thought away. "I'm a computer programmer, not an engineer. It's the speech and sentience I'm interested in, not the mobility and... 'lasers'."

The very idea seemed absurd, but he could see where Ithica was coming from. It was likely he'd experienced all sorts of strange and dangerous things, with a Trait like that.

He was actually listening to Ithica when the next question came, but his answer was still delayed as he tried to figure out what he was being asked. "Oh. Does it hurt? No, not at all. Did it hurt? Definitely. And then it got infected." The things he did for that woman. "But it's fine now."

He handed 'Rosie' back, unsure if it was proper to say goodbye to her. In the end, he settled for a nuanced wave, and shifted his focus to Ithica. "Would you be willing to help me out with something?" He wasn't sure he could put it any more delicately; Ithica could probably guess what he had in mind, but he didn't want to make the demon sound like some sort of tool. No, he was infinitely more valuable than that. Oh, and sure, there was that part about him being a living creature, but Jacob put more stock in his computer than he did in most sapient life-forms.

"I could pay you, if you charge for that kind of thing."

[Ithica Pettineo]

Not interested in robots. That was probably good. Ithica let himself nod, only following about half of what this boy was saying. He had never been good with technology - he even gave up on his iPod ever since it had tried to strangle him.

Speech and life. That's all Jacob was interested in? It did seem a bit safer than bringing something else to life. Especially something with lasers. Ithica resisted the urge to shudder with memories of burnt clothes and hair. His hair! What kind of laser aims for the hair?

Ithica's nose wrinkled when Jacob spoke of infections. "Could you eat with it infected?" He inquired. Ithica could not imagine a life where he could not eat for a while. He would have curled up on his bed and cried himself to sleep. "Why did you keep it in if it hurt and got infected?" Maybe Jacob had gone through a masochistic point in life.

He put Rosie back in his bag, promising her that he'd fix her later. Ithica looked back up at Jacob, a little surprised. "I'd love to help." He smiled sincerely, putting his bag over his shoulder. "You don't have to pay me since you asked nicely."

Truth be told, even if Jacob had said, 'Ithica, get in there help me NOW' he would have agreed to do it free, because what were friends - or in this case helpful demons - for? Besides, it wasn't as if Ithica was terribly busy at the moment.

[∴ Jacob]

Jacob found Ithica's inquisitive manner to be endearing. Here he was, getting down to business, to the nitty-gritty, and just on the cusp of halting his downright disinterested behaviour, and yet this man was as interested in Jacob's lip ring as if the pair were old, dear friends. In a world full of people who thought only about themselves — Jacob himself part of that populous group — it was a blast of cool sea air on a muggy day to meet an Ithica Pettineo.

"I guess I could have, but mostly I drank smoothies. It was actually nice to have an excuse to have nothing but smoothies for a week." Jacob reflected solemnly; it had been too long, a year perhaps, since he last partook of a smoothie or milkshake. Inexcusable behaviour.

"For the same reason all men do the stupidest things they do," Jacob pseudo-explained, or as it turned out, pre-explained. "Women. One in particular, but she's no longer important." True in many senses, but at the forefront, he simply wanted to get to the matter at hand, especially now that he knew he had a willing partner in not-yet-crime.

"Follow me. And don't mind the mess," he said, fully expecting Ithica to follow only one of the two instructions. His dorm was not only extremely cramped, but it was also downright chaotic and cluttered with any sort of garbage one could imagine.

Upon entering behind Jacob, Ithica would bear witness to one of the strangest combinations of sci-fi and filth ever imagined, like the trash compactor scene from Star Wars tenfold and on steroids. The only thing it was missing was a strange garbage monster and Harrison Ford. Computer parts and snack wrappers littered the common area, intense, inexplicable heat rolled in from the kitchen, and the dark doorway of the only bedroom visible from the front door was illuminated on and off by strange combinations of flashing coloured lights.

"Could I get a demo first?" Jacob asked, picking up a crumpled soda can from a small table and holding it out to Ithica.

OOC: Sorry if this makes no sense. It's too late to be up writing but I hate to keep you waiting xD

[Ithica Pettineo]

Just smoothies? Ithica was horrified. He loved smoothies, milkshakes, and any other kind of food that was turned into a drink, but only liquids? Ithica would have surely keeled over from such a tragic diet.

All for a chick?! This guy needed to sort his priorities quite obviously. Food, school...all right, so those were the only two things Ithica did. But he was sure that if he had ever been romantically involved and was more involved with the community, women would still be at the end of his list. Lip ring. Infections. No food. Jacob was a lot stronger than he looked.

Ithica took the can from Jacob, and then sat it back on the table. The can immediantly uncrushed itself, and started ranting about rude humans who decided to smash him, beat him, and then drink his innerds. Ithica patted it gently, sympathetic. The can bit him by encasing one of Ithica's fingers inside of it and shutting the tab. Ithica squealed and jumped backward, flailing his hand wildly. He tripped and landed on his back, hitting his head against the floor.

So maybe Ithica Pettineo wasn't the suavest guy in town. He picked himself up, cheeks tinged red a little. "Sorry about that.." He put his bleeding finger in his mouth, looking sheepish.

The can cackled, jumping its way back to table. "Stupid demon."

(ooc; It's fine. None of my posts make sense. But then, how sane can a post sound when talking about maniacal soda cans?)

[∴ Jacob]

OOC: Oh my gosh the waiiiiiiting I put you through xD

Jacob remained almost entirely stoic as the can did its thing, his slightly widened eyes the only hint that he was watching something entirely miraculous occur. He supposed he should have been afraid of the maniacal soda can, but the largely in charge logical portion of his brain was quick to remind him that this was still just a soda can.

As if to prove this fact to the universe, Laramie chose this moment to barge into the room, wearing a ridiculous heat-safety get up that made him look like some sort of futuristic steam-punk housewife. "I just need a couple more to fill the mold..." he absent-mindedly muttered, sweeping his gaze across the room. His eyes found Ithica's attacker and his non-animated brethren sitting on the table beside him, and he swiftly grabbed the lot of them up in his heavily-gloved hands and retreated to the kitchen.

The heat coming from said room momentarily intensified, and it became evident that Laramie, in his rush, had skipped the crushing step and simply tossed the cans into the blast furnace. It was perhaps a microsecond after the heat rolled in that the ghoulish screaming began, and a ghost-faced Laramie charged into the room and wildly looked back and forth between Jacob and his guest.

"That... that can was... alive?" Laramie spouted, quite confused, and it became clear as the wailing from the other room died down that 'was' was the operative word.

"You could say that," Jacob said, seemingly unconcerned with the developments. He did, however, seem to realize this whole spectacle might serve to dissuade his associate from helping him.

"I can tell you right now, Ithica; no one will be throwing our next subject in a blast furnace, if they hold any value on their life." He nearly offered the demon a band-aid, before remembering he was, in fact, a demon, and would probably heal on his own with haste.

"Moving on?"

Without waiting for a reply, he walked into one of the bedrooms. Following him, Ithica would find himself in a room neatly divided in half; one section containing every computing operatus imaginable, all in perfect order, and the other containing a bed hidden underneath mounds of garbage and dirty clothes.

It was clear which aspects of Jacob's life were most important to him, and this went far as to explaining his hesitance to get to the point — he was simply staring with evident apprehension at his beloved computer, weighing pros and cons. The next few minutes could involve him making a new best friend, or losing something very valuable to him.

"This is Violet," he explained, and though the computer appeared black straight-on, from an angle purple tinges could easily be made out.

He wondered if, upon 'awaking', his computer would remember his fondness for 'her', as the can had remembered the wrongs committed against it. Or would she turn violent, again as the can had.

He looked Ithica in the eyes, worry on his face and a question in his eyes.

OOC: Rushed, sorry! Got to get ready for work D:

[Ithica Pettineo]

(ooc; it's fiinneee. =P It keeps me in suspense. And Laramie is my new hero. :])

When the guy wearing the heat safety clothes walked in, Ithica chuckled. However, when he grabbed the cans, it clicked in Ithica's mind. He stepped closer, his arm momentarily outreached as he went to the kitchen. The kitchen, where the.. the crematorium was located. His face went ashen as he realized what was about to happen, and felt a little faint when it started screaming. He had never really had an object be alive when it had broken (he had unanimated her when he pulled her head off) or.. put into a fire.

It wasn't necessarily that Ithica could feel the can's pain, it was that Ithica himself could only imagine being thrown mercilessly into a fire and having his aluminum melt and burn and sizzle. He shuddered, feeling a little sick as tears came to his eyes. He wiped them, sniffed, and his head cleared as the can was finally dead. "Yeah. It was alive." muttered Ithica bitterly.

The demon shot Laramie as mean a look as he could muster (which wasn't very mean - Ithica didn't like to hurt people's feelings) and turned his attention back to Jacob. "I'm sure." He said weakly, watching the legion in his finger do its work. He followed him slowly and, seeing the room, bit his cheek in an effort not to start cleaning. He averted his gaze to 'Violet'. Normally, Ithica would have raised his eyebrows at somebody naming their computer, but.. really, what was normal about the situation they were in?

He noticed the boy's hesitance, and it took him a while to figure out what was wrong. Maybe he had decided that Ithica wasn't the right person, or maybe he had changed his mind and wanted his computer to be a computer. Or.. oh. Personality. Ithica rubbed his head, trying to find a way to explain the random personalities that inanimate objects had. Jacob had gone so far as to name... her?... and give her a clean... living.. space. He was probably worried if it -she- was going to go psycho.

"No. I mean, you obviously care for... Violet, so she's not going to hate you." He put the emphasis on 'you'. "The soda can lashed out at people because.. well, you drank its innards and then crushed it. I'd be kind of mad at you, too." Ithica shrugged. "Other than the fact I know it.. she.. won't lash out at you, I'm really not certain about the personality. But you have technomancy, so you'll be able to control her better." He was pretty sure that Jacob would get that explanation. Ithica wasn't totally sure if that was true or not, but it seemed to be the general rule of thumb.

[∴ Jacob]

Upon finding out that the can had indeed been alive (and not bothering to question how exactly this happened), Laramie's face blanched, and his mind began to race. He'd just killed a man! Can! Whatever! He was a cold-blooded, red-handed, straight up murderer!

Faced with this gruesome revelation, there was little he could do but run away from the kiddie sized glare Ithica was giving him, retreating to the relative safety of the bathroom and its locking door. This base of operations had the added benefit of a porcelain receptacle for his lunch, which was currently in the planning stages of a comeback tour thanks to Laramie's weak stomach and murderous new direction in life.

Oblivious to all of this (not that he particularly cared either way; Laramie was easily the pukingest person he'd ever met), Jacob listened with rapt attention to Ithica. He needed to know the rules — the rules were always important, even if he intended to break them.

Ithica's explanation seemed to assuage his doubts, and he nodded twice, once in understanding and a second time in the direction of his computer. It seemed he was ready to take the leap, trusting Ithica was right about the lashing out. Jacob was less concerned about personality than he was about the possibility of death and/or destruction of items of value (both sentimental and monetary).

Here goes... quite something.

OOC: Short, but there's not much to say, really.

[Ithica Pettineo]

(ooc; pukingest? xD also, I wasn't sure how to play out Violet, so I'm really sorry for the really crappy post :/)

At Jacob's nod, Ithica walked over to the computer. He was nervous, and he tried not to show it blatantly. Generally when he tried to Animate larger objects, things didn't go according to plan. He bit his lip nervously, tentatively touching Violet. He immediately took a few steps back. However, the screen remained black. Ithica looked at his hands, at Violet, Jacob, then back at Violet.

Delayed reactions were awkward.

The screen started to flicker purple, and Ithica took more steps backwards. "Hello, Violet." He said softly, his hands curling into fists nervously. He knew that the computer wouldn't attempt to kill Jacob, but he wasn't so sure about himself. Ithica was, at nineteen, a pretty young demon and planned on living to at least two hundred. "Violet?"

"Hello," the voice was a bit fuzzy, but definitely female. "Jacob." She addressed, the voice gradually becoming clearer the more she used it.

[∴ Jacob]

OOC: Pukingest is clearly a word. And don't worry, that was just about the most perfect way you could've handled Vi.

When things didn't initially go as planned, Jacob did nothing more than meet Ithica's gaze. He had no reason to believe thing hadn't gone according to plan; there certainly hadn't been an explosion or anything, and in Jacob's mind, that was about the only way it could truly have gone bad. Jacob wasn't expecting things to go bad, though; it was a common misconception people had that the boy was pessimistic; he simply didn't trust most people (the key word being 'people', of course). So he waited.

And his patience did not go without reward.

As Ithica stepped away from the awakening machine, Jacob's lips slowly curled into a misleadingly small grin, though his eyes gave away how excited he truly was for the outcome. He shot Ithica a mildly annoyed look (though the demon wouldn't see, it being directed at the back of the head) after he spoke to the computer, and made a noise somewhere between a dull hiss and a 'shhhh', but his growing excitement quickly got the better of him as Violet responded.

"Violet," Jacob responded simply, his sparkling eyes betraying his calm.

"I appear to have become sentient," said the voice, smooth and calm and crystal clear by this point. Images flashed across the screen; Jacob thought he saw a wikipedia article on artificial intelligence among them. "This is problematic."

Jacob detected a hint of a question, a hint of hesitance. He liked it. Computers did not hesitate. AIs could. Insufficient data for 'her' to form a strong opinion, but it was an opinion nonetheless. "Not if we're careful."

"Noted," Violet responded, after a nearly undetectable pause. Jacob made a mental note to install more memory and a bigger hard drive to ready himself for what was to come. "Your friend?"

It took Jacob a moment to figure out what Violet was talking about, given that she had no eyes to point at Ithica. "Oh. Yes, this is Ithica. I suppose you could say if I was your mother, he would be your father. Or the other way around, I'm not sure." He waved his hands in dismissal and crossed his arms. "Analogies."

"Hello Ithica," said Violet, "and thank you."

OOC: I figured since I kept you waiting so long I should give you a super awesome post, but I am too tired D: Stupid work.