[David looks. Puzzled. And interested. Because something strange happened this morning, and he wants to know why.

Unfortunately, instead of going with a long explanation of what's going on, he's keeping it short and simple. And therefore a little weirdly cryptic, which is probably the fault of his accent and. Everything else.

David, you freak.]

Has anyone noticed anything... unusual happening during their network conversations, recently? It seems as though we are experiencing a network disturbance.

[The video clicks on to show a sweeping shot of the Overlook's basement. Natasha and Mal have been handling the boiler, so David hasn't bothered with it beyond a quick glance to make sure the pressure gauge is still in the safe zone. Besides, he isn't interested in any of that, anyway.

There are boxes and boxes of old papers - newspapers, receipts, books, ledgers, knick knacks and old uniforms, decades of artifacts from the hotel's history scattered haphazardly around the basement. The android is holding the camera almost at shoulder height and has a flashlight in his other hand, sweeping the beam slowly over the boxes, stacks and crates, lingering here, sweeping over there without stopping as he walks through the archaeological site.

The boiler lets out a labored, thundering whoosh, but David doesn't jump or otherwise seem too bothered by it as he keeps going, the camera and flashlight both holding steady.

He finally stops in front of a box, shining the beam of the flashlight on it for a moment before crouching and setting both the camera and the flashlight down. The light is beam up, casting strange shadows on his face as David frowns with curiosity and starts carefully pulling things out of the box, studying each object with a combination of clinical interest and childlike curiosity. A book. A sheet of old stationary. Some receipts.

He raises his eyebrows at the next find, jerking his head back slightly, like a dog who realized the dead thing it had been sniffing was actually just sleeping this whole time, looking genuinely surprised before pulling out a mutilated teddy bear. It looks as if it's been slashed to pieces, stuffing spilling out of the tears in the fabric, and the one eye visible to the camera at this angle is hanging from the socket by a thread. David considers it for a long moment before finally speaking softly, more to himself than anyone else.]

Big things have small beginnings.

[He suddenly glances back down at the camera, as if realizing it's still on. His expression is almost blank as he reaches down to the camera, his hand obscuring the image for a moment before he clicks off the video feed.]

[ooc: If anyone wants to spam him in the basement or otherwise arrange a face to face encounter with David, I am game!]

[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.