Rosetta fizzled for a moment as it logged in, its limbs and apparent bones twisted and bent in varying, inhuman ways. Once it established a secure connection, straightened its limbs out and sat on its tail, twitching its ears for a moment before speaking in a soft, almost hissing voice. 'Connection secured,' it said, before looking at Fox, then Endo. 'And its' been far too long since we've shared the same reserved network. How have you been, Fox?'
Rosetta's perpetual grin gave nothing away as it twisted its bones and joints once more, fluid pops sounding from them as thick, clear fluid began to stream slowly from its eyes. It was still toying with the form it had chosen, though mostly with simple aesthetics, nothing so drastic as a body change. 'What do you think? 'Weeping' or not?'
Omicron fazed into the server. As he tried to assemble a form from his banks, he stopped short. He had deleted them all back on Onyx when trying to stabilize the portal. He shuffled through anything he could find, eventually settling on a damaged file. He attempted to load the form, but it only held for a second before the damaged file began to collapse. Om began to try and salvage it, saving whatever he could. In the end, he was left with nothing but bones and wires.
'Why, THANK you!' the construct responded, that grin only widening, baring hundreds of needle-sharp teeth behind it. The clear 'fluid' continued to drip down the sides of its face, glistening in the air for a moment before it whisked back into Rosetta's being.
'You're not looking too bad yourself, you know. Looks almost like you took a page out of my book.'
'I was more going for the fear factor, but that works, too,' it said, chuckling for a moment before turning and eying Fox. 'Though, I think all of us are here to watch him hit on the women.'
Rosetta, of course, took the initiative and started playing some music over the room. Background music, of course. Not so loud that it was intrusive, but not so quiet that it couldn't be heard, either. The choice for tonight? 'Blues Brothers Radio'.
Rosetta reached out and gave Omicron a nice, solid thwap to the side of the head. Not malicious, more of a 'percussive repair' sort of thing. It looked over to the blue one and grinned, nodding. 'Oh, this is jazz. It's just a very specific style of jazz. Or Jazz is just a very specific style of Blues. One or the other.'
