[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.

[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.

[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!]