[center] [h1]And You Are?[/h1] [img]https://i.imgur.com/pdXomIc.jpg[/img] [h3]Osiris, Day 1, Bridge of the China Doll[/h3] [/center] [hr] As Tommy's hands sprung to work on the console, Sam cataloged his prominent facial features, any scarring, or birth marks. Though she had no real basis with which to compare, she accepted the human notion that the symmetry present in Tommy's visage would classify him as handsome. Herself? She was still dolled up in the myriad shells and beads courtesy of the last pilot to hold the post, tucked safely out of sight nestled in the communications bay. The com behind Tommy crackled to life, "Hello, potential pilot Tommy, my name is Sam," her Bostonian accent lilted as her words emanated from the speaker fixed in the console. There was humor prevalent in her response, "And I don't think this ship is haunted, and I know every inch of her." Her crystalline voice somehow echoed through the com clearer than it should have, like she were sitting beside the pilot, leaning on the console with a smug look on her face--well, if she had one. "Do you have a surname, Tommy?" The AI asked with an air of curiosity. Such data would vastly accelerate satisfaction of the historical and motivational unknowns present in the man's accumulating dossier. Already her initial analytic picked up on the nuances of his accent, his speech pattern, his timbre and 'yaw,' as it were.