[David isn't in the frame when the video feed clicks on. Instead, you're getting a more or less eye level view of the CES, which is currently flaunting a desert setting that looks like something out of the American south west.

It looks like he's alone, but then a little robotic spider - about the size and general shape of a tarantula - scuttles up a bush and faces the camera before carefully turning itself around to stare at the mesa. David doesn't comment on the spider's appearance or purpose there, and instead just starts talking in the familiar, almost emotionless cadence most Barge residents should be familiar by now.]

The research team I was assigned to visited a planet that didn't look much different from this. Less striking colors, but fairly similar features. [He sounds almost nostalgic... if he's capable of being nostalgic.]

Of course, if the CES chose to recreate that environment perfectly, anyone human who attempted to enter it would suffocate in minutes, assuming you were lucky enough to avoid the dust storms with clouds made predominantly of shards of glass.

[And then there's just silence for a long moment. The spider doesn't move until the bush it's sitting on is disturbed by a breeze, and then it turns around to face the camera, staring.

It's a little creepy.]

I had never been in the CES before today.

[Private to Mira]

You're welcome to join me, if you're in need of a change in scenery.

[This flood is basically David's favorite thing. Well, not really, his favorite thing would still involve never having to speak to quite a lot of you ever again, but this is a chance to show off, and so he is looking absurdly pleased with himself.

Or, you know. He's just smiling a little smugly, but it's not really as threatening or selachian as usual.]

I'm aware that there have been other offers of help, but as I spent two years studying every language native to Earth going back centuries, and am now fluent in several non-Earth languages as well, I would be happy to assist anyone currently experiencing translation issues.

Ich bin mir bewusst, dass es andere Hilfsangebote...

[The full message repeats in German. A shorter version of this message is repeated in every other native language of every single person on the Barge. Because this is basically what David does to entertain himself. His pronunciation is textbook and flawless, and will be responding to you in whatever language you're stuck using thanks to the flood. Or whatever one you want to brush up on.]

As much as I enjoy working in the library, [And he actually means that. He can effectively "work" by doing whatever the hell he wants, doesn't technically have to interact with anyone and has plenty of free time to explore what the facility has to offer, so no complaints here.] I feel as thought my particular talents are being a bit wasted.

[tl;dr, he's bored.]

If there are any departments currently in need of an extra hand, with the exception of the kitchen, [He hasn't been programmed to cook, and to be honest, he knows it's probably not a good idea to give him the temptation to do something terrible to someone he doesn't like's dinner. He's making progress, but not that much progress just yet.] I would be interested in discussing the necessary conditions for employment.

[The feed clicks on to show David, wearing his usual gray uniform, standing near the pool table on level six. He's holding a nail and studying it a bit before he says anything, turning it over and over again in his fingers before looking up and smiling politely at the camera, in that usual polite but definitely vaguely creepy way everyone should be accustomed to at this point.]

A colleague [More or less, although he doubted Holloway thought of him as such. He had always seemed to treat him as a child, or a tool, and one usually didn't consider either such things colleagues.] of mine and I once had a conversation about how far one was willing to go to get their answers. It is my understanding that most of you are here for something less abstract, but nevertheless just as hopefully satisfactory, often at extreme personal cost and risk.

So I would like to pose the same question to you, wardens: how far are you willing to go, to get what you came all this way for? What would you be willing to do?

[Private to Erik]

[After his chat with Pietro, David really did not know how to process it. At all. And while admittedly, there are potentially better people to talk to about this, the very confused robot is turning to someone he more or less respects and probably understands how fucking weird this whole thing is.]

May I have a word with you? [He doesn't exactly sound shaken, but. He certainly sounds less cool than he usually does.]

[There are a lot of things David could say about the holiday. He's already pointed out it's already passed for him, before he came here, and he's told Narvin the truth about the Engineers, which makes the whole holiday seem even more bogus than usual, but he ]

I had almost allowed myself to hope that the mistletoe would be gone by the time the holiday had ended. When does it usually leave the Barge? [Because he hates that fucking mistletoe and he will be a very happy robot when it's gone. >C

He hesitates, almost like he was considering switching off the feed before his etiquette programming kicked in and reminded him he should probably be saying something about this.]

I suppose I should say thank you for the gifts. They were... appreciated. [He doesn't even sound entirely insincere. Sort of. It's always a little hard to tell when he's just pulling your leg versus being serious, but this time, he mostly just doesn't really know what to do with it.] Although I'm afraid the wine would be wasted on me, so if anyone wants an extra bottle...?

[Private to Aya]

I have selected several books on the history of the automotive industry, if you're still interested in learning more about it.

[David was basically completely undisturbed by the hotel, which meant he had a lot of time to lurk around in the basement, and thus has a story to tell all of you.

His voice is calm, and largely unemotional, like he's just reading this out of a textbook versus particularly excited or enthusiastic about sharing his findings with everyone, but that's not really anything new.]

The Overlook Hotel was built between the years of 1907 and 1909 and changed hands several times over the course of its [There's the briefest pause while David thinks of the best word to use here, and if this was a video, you'd be getting an almost smug smile from the robot.] illustrious history. Most significantly, it remained closed for the entirety of the Second World War until it was purchased by a Mr. Horace Derwent. Millionaire, inventor, pilot, film producer, entrepreneur. [Which David can't help but equate with a certain other genius billionaire he used to know, but he keeps any amount of bitterness out of his tone.]

Unfortunately, [Okay, sarcasm's another matter entirely, and it's clear David doesn't think there was much unfortunate about this.] hotel management seems to be the one thing Mr. Derwent was unsuccessful with, and after pouring millions of dollars into renovating it, he sold the hotel in 1954. It changed hands again, to a company that may have [But definitely was.] been involved in organized crime before being purchased by the owners responsible for the hotel during our brief visit.

It's not unusual for a place where significant numbers of people come and go to have their fair share of ghosts. Accidents, illnesses, suicides. Even murder. But the Overlook seemed to have an unusual number of them.

[And again, if this was a video, you would be getting a small, somewhat sharky smile.]

In case anyone was curious.

[When David found himself once more on the deck of the Prometheus, for a moment, he honestly didn't know what to make of it. Robots did not hallucinate, and there was no logical explanation as to why he'd be standing on deck in his gray uniform as if he hadn't just had his head ripped off, which he very distinctly remembered. A diagnostic scan didn't reveal any abnormalities in his system's memory, which really only deepened the mystery.

There was also no reason why the ship would be back in space, and the expanse he found himself looking out on didn't seem familiar at all. Further investigation revealed there was no sign of the rest of the crew, the cryo deck door sliding open onto an unfamiliar hallway, and the vehicles, flamethrowers, and any other tools the security team had brought along were gone, too. Strange.

He wandered back up to the bridge eventually. The controls and computer screens were gone as well, leaving behind their kiosks and seats, but nothing to actually move the ship through space. Sitting on one of the kiosks was a device he didn't recognize, and he picked it up, wanting to know what it was.

About fifteen minutes later, and he's already got it figured out, and has been skimming the network for information. By the time the feed clicks on, David's read up on where and why he's here, and has seated himself on the couch in Ms. Vicker's suite. The room is silver and white, sleek, brightly lit and definitely looks like a space ship, despite the wall of books just visible over David's shoulder. His expression is almost, but not quite, blank. There's some curiosity and maybe even slight confusion there, but his protocols are insisting he be polite and find out crucial information first, before asking the thousands of questions he was already formulating.]

Hello. My name is David. It is my understanding that this vessel is called the Barge, run by "the Admiral", and that as I did not come here willingly, I have been brought here as an inmate. There is no indication that I'm currently assigned to a warden, but if that is an oversight on my part, I apologize. [He is not, however, currently interested in talking to said warden, if he has been assigned. :V]

Any further information on my current situation would be appreciated.

[He seems extremely unruffled by the whole thing, honestly.] Until then, I have been programmed to assist on board a space worthy vessel in any way my human counterparts might find use for me. If there are any departments in need of an extra pair of hands- [And he smiles, just slightly.] I would be happy to help.