i. it's hard work EDI's mobile platform is of a design originating in the private sector, twice over. The original intent of the design, beyond simple mimicry, was intended for use as a general-purpose assistant and mobility aid. And then it was modified. But even when wearing a body intended partly to deceive and partly to destroy, the heart and core of EDI remains; she was designed by humans, to serve human needs. Service is therefore not an alien concept to her, nor reconnaissance.
So, when asked to work, she first glances to be sure that it's her the overseer is referring to, and not anyone aside from the highly-armored combat and infiltration mech. No? Of course.
"Of course. I will repair the boiler," she accepts the orders with a slight bow. Taste, and smell, are deeply subjective; she has them both, but is ill-suited to interpretation. Water-pressure and temperature need little artistry to understand, and EDI's metal hands will cope better than frail organic meat; all the better to snoop around where she's not wanted, as well. She continues, at full volume: "However, I will not be held responsible for the resulting terrible explosion and numerous deaths."
There is a pause.
"...That is a joke. Excuse me."
ii. a drink with jam and bread After some observation of the results, EDI has attempted to store some of the tea in the chamber her platform designates as a stomach. Just, for science, you see, and in the spirit of friends not present. She feels they would have dared her to try, and the White Tea goes down without any difficulty.
And the results? One robot lady, sitting quietly on a stone bench, staring in fascination at her own hands as she rubs them together, or the texture of her seat, or over the surface of a single, delicate blade of grass. Touch, she'd had before, but like this? The data-overload is exquisite, as painful as it is delirious. Is this how organic people feel, always?
"How can they bear it?"
iii. we don't need another hero While not a fan, precisely, of gladiatorial combat, EDI finds it nostalgic. We always long, in some way, for the experiences of our childhoods, and the infancy of EDI's digital life had been spent in almost constant combat, not to much more purpose than this.
Well, that wasn't true. It had been Alliance training exercises, and to a more honest point were of great purpose, though not to EDI.
She also doesn't seem to be using any weaponry, and maybe that's alarming for you, to see a shiny metal woman with arms like sticks ripping through enemies like tissue paper. Or maybe the alarming thing is how quickly she moves, or how abrupt and ruthless her attacks.
Or maybe it's the way she's coming right for you.
iv. wild wild west Have an idea or approach of your own? Come at me!
The Enhanced Defence Intelligence "EDI" | Mass Effect
EDI's mobile platform is of a design originating in the private sector, twice over. The original intent of the design, beyond simple mimicry, was intended for use as a general-purpose assistant and mobility aid. And then it was modified. But even when wearing a body intended partly to deceive and partly to destroy, the heart and core of EDI remains; she was designed by humans, to serve human needs. Service is therefore not an alien concept to her, nor reconnaissance.
So, when asked to work, she first glances to be sure that it's her the overseer is referring to, and not anyone aside from the highly-armored combat and infiltration mech. No? Of course.
"Of course. I will repair the boiler," she accepts the orders with a slight bow. Taste, and smell, are deeply subjective; she has them both, but is ill-suited to interpretation. Water-pressure and temperature need little artistry to understand, and EDI's metal hands will cope better than frail organic meat; all the better to snoop around where she's not wanted, as well. She continues, at full volume: "However, I will not be held responsible for the resulting terrible explosion and numerous deaths."
There is a pause.
"...That is a joke. Excuse me."
ii. a drink with jam and bread
After some observation of the results, EDI has attempted to store some of the tea in the chamber her platform designates as a stomach. Just, for science, you see, and in the spirit of friends not present. She feels they would have dared her to try, and the White Tea goes down without any difficulty.
And the results? One robot lady, sitting quietly on a stone bench, staring in fascination at her own hands as she rubs them together, or the texture of her seat, or over the surface of a single, delicate blade of grass. Touch, she'd had before, but like this? The data-overload is exquisite, as painful as it is delirious. Is this how organic people feel, always?
"How can they bear it?"
iii. we don't need another hero
While not a fan, precisely, of gladiatorial combat, EDI finds it nostalgic. We always long, in some way, for the experiences of our childhoods, and the infancy of EDI's digital life had been spent in almost constant combat, not to much more purpose than this.
Well, that wasn't true. It had been Alliance training exercises, and to a more honest point were of great purpose, though not to EDI.
She also doesn't seem to be using any weaponry, and maybe that's alarming for you, to see a shiny metal woman with arms like sticks ripping through enemies like tissue paper. Or maybe the alarming thing is how quickly she moves, or how abrupt and ruthless her attacks.
Or maybe it's the way she's coming right for you.
iv. wild wild west
Have an idea or approach of your own? Come at me!