Although the jumpsuit is far from fashionable, the Butler has not attempted to remove any part of his new uniform. Study of the boots showed them to have more functions than simply protecting one's feet, though he has never had any need for magnetic footwear before.
He's grateful for that now, as the gravity vanishes with a terrible crunch.
Floating in the hall is no way to be useful to anyone. He bends to reach one boot, sending himself into a spin. No one trains Domesticon servant droids for gravity failure, there are better designs for cleaning a ship or station. He could wish for some aid from them.
The boot makes a quiet kind of thump, and the Butler realizes he has no idea how to fall in zero gravity either. He crashes awkwardly on the ceiling, unable to avoid anyone who might have been a little too close.
001.1: Upside down
The lack of gravity has only added to the station's mess.
Floating dinnerware is a danger to the humans aboard station, especially if the gravity loss should prove to be temporary. The Butler slowly gains confidence that his boots will hold him, that he can maneuver well enough to help collect the plastic knives and forks and spoons into safe containment.
He'd accept advice from anyone more confident. Or help.
002: Wild side
Space suits with oxygen and thrusters are obviously meant for humans, not for robots. The Butler doesn't wish to waste such a resource. However, the magnetic boots should work as well outside the station as inside, he hopes, and his body might not be built for space but it's also far easier to repair than a human's life.
Even losing the humanoid tool completely would not kill him, though it would be a definite inconvenience.
He goes out the airlock wearing only the jumpsuit, nervously looking about himself. He's never done this before, never seen the stars like this. He only hopes he can be more of a help than a distraction.
He makes his way slowly across the outside of the station, shuffling to keep the boots in full contact with the surface, bent to be less of a target in case of trouble, dusting minor bits of rock from the metal.
"Which way do you suppose the trouble is?" he transmits into his communicator, which hasn't broken from exposure to vacuum yet. He hopes it will not. Replacing it would be inefficient.
003: Work it
That massive rock isn't anything the Butler can shift alone. He approaches anyway, hoping to be told what to do. He doesn't have a cutting tool, but he could brace someone, or help push away the smaller pieces, perhaps.
"How may I assist?" he inquires of the nearest person.
The Butler | The Fall 2: Unbound | Open
Although the jumpsuit is far from fashionable, the Butler has not attempted to remove any part of his new uniform. Study of the boots showed them to have more functions than simply protecting one's feet, though he has never had any need for magnetic footwear before.
He's grateful for that now, as the gravity vanishes with a terrible crunch.
Floating in the hall is no way to be useful to anyone. He bends to reach one boot, sending himself into a spin. No one trains Domesticon servant droids for gravity failure, there are better designs for cleaning a ship or station. He could wish for some aid from them.
The boot makes a quiet kind of thump, and the Butler realizes he has no idea how to fall in zero gravity either. He crashes awkwardly on the ceiling, unable to avoid anyone who might have been a little too close.
001.1: Upside down
The lack of gravity has only added to the station's mess.
Floating dinnerware is a danger to the humans aboard station, especially if the gravity loss should prove to be temporary. The Butler slowly gains confidence that his boots will hold him, that he can maneuver well enough to help collect the plastic knives and forks and spoons into safe containment.
He'd accept advice from anyone more confident. Or help.
002: Wild side
Space suits with oxygen and thrusters are obviously meant for humans, not for robots. The Butler doesn't wish to waste such a resource. However, the magnetic boots should work as well outside the station as inside, he hopes, and his body might not be built for space but it's also far easier to repair than a human's life.
Even losing the humanoid tool completely would not kill him, though it would be a definite inconvenience.
He goes out the airlock wearing only the jumpsuit, nervously looking about himself. He's never done this before, never seen the stars like this. He only hopes he can be more of a help than a distraction.
He makes his way slowly across the outside of the station, shuffling to keep the boots in full contact with the surface, bent to be less of a target in case of trouble, dusting minor bits of rock from the metal.
"Which way do you suppose the trouble is?" he transmits into his communicator, which hasn't broken from exposure to vacuum yet. He hopes it will not. Replacing it would be inefficient.
003: Work it
That massive rock isn't anything the Butler can shift alone. He approaches anyway, hoping to be told what to do. He doesn't have a cutting tool, but he could brace someone, or help push away the smaller pieces, perhaps.
"How may I assist?" he inquires of the nearest person.