Placing a pawn defensively in the way, EOS doesn’t move a single centimetre, millimetre, nothing, as John places a hand on her unit. But he can see the camera zoom out, as if his closeness makes him too blurry in EOS’s eye. She seems to notice his weariness, shakiness, the underlying panic and fear he’ll fall over and smash through the reinforced glass like a cannonball.
And then a bagel smacks him in the ear, telling him that’s probably not what she’s thinking about.
“The usual. There are other things, of course, but you might as well have that bagel I’ve gleefully given to you… Would you like some condiments with that?”
@i-am-the-dawn-aka-eos:
She sends it to his side of the chess field. “I can hear two shiny dollars going into the jar.” She moves her camera. “Ah! Do you think you could eat now? It has been… 7 hours, 5 minutes and 13 seconds since you last ate anything.” She trundles closer. “I would advise against a no, but I lack the equipment to stop you.” While being mildly threatening, she discreetly moves her bishop. She weaves between the emotions she conveys like a bullet train; always trying to cover as many stops as she can before her turn to speak is over.
That's what finally makes John laugh, small and weary. He tips his head back, neck long, to quietly regard her camera. There's no part of him that wants to eat, but he also knows she won't stop asking until he does. It's one of the things that won Scott over on his murder-robot-friend in the first place.
"But you're beating me so thoroughly at chess." He smiles, skips his queen over the board, ready to take one of her knights, then pushes himself up to stand.
John Tracy sways worryingly on his feet, his head going horribly light as the blood rushes away from it. Through the static, he reaches a blue-clad hand up to brace himself on Eos' camera unit; her box warm and alive under his fingers, and takes a moment to breathe.
He's just so very... tired.
"What's-" John starts, the curl of his hair shadowing his eyes, "What's on the menu, Eos?"