[centre][h1][color=silver]Peacere Kovalyov[/color][/h1]
Location: Talon Base
Interacting with: Sampson, Sombra, Ceri, whoever else[/centre]

The Omnic remained perfectly silent during Sampson's self-introduction, only the slight flicker of the room's lights off of adjusting photoreceptors revealing that he was alive at all, rather than a metal statue. When it was finished, however, his head tilted slightly to the side in a gesture he'd been taught by Valentine. She'd always claimed that his lack of motion while speaking made him off-putting.

[color=silver]"I am not opposed to the idea of partnerships in general, but it may not be advisable for someone of your background to work with one of those who has caused them psychological distress."[/color]

Peacere paused for another moment, though for a far shorter time than it would take an organic to do what he was: downloading and reprocessing Sampson's file, after seeing the man's face. His shoulders moved up, then back down, in the best approximation his servos could create of a shrug. [color=silver]"Your file, however, seems to indicate that you are the consummate professional, with no job too messy so long as the pay is high enough,"[/color] the Omnic continued, his monotone defying any attempts to tell if he meant it as a dig or not. [color=silver]"I will leave any such partnership to your judgment."[/color]

There was a whirr and a clank of two steps as Sombra approached, the mechanical being realigning himself in the presence of another person.

[quote][color=#AB08B4][i]"Hola![/i] You boys have anything planned today? People to kill? Battles to fight?"[/color] She paused, glancing at Peacere with a teasing smirk. [color=#AB08B4]"Joints to oil?"[/color][/quote]

The sound of a dialup connection started to emit from Peacere's body, his body seeming to go slack as if his poor pitiful primitive processor couldn't handle so many questions simultaneously and his "oil valves" were about to blow a gasket, before he refocused. His face was still expressionless. [color=silver]"My plans are irrelevant. Whatever I do will ultimately depend on what I am ordered to. I presume that you have plans, though, to ask about those of others."[/color] His eyes clicked as he spoke, looking down at her breakfast, before looking back up at her face. [color=silver]"Plans, I assume, that will be delayed by your acquisition of breakfast."[/color]

When Ceri entered, his positioning was already optimal for the group--and he had learned long ago that trying to orient according to the girl's erratic movement was a hopeless affair.

[color=silver]"You will drop your eggs,"[/color] he said impassively.