#who painted the roses red (amora)

[kyberphilosopher]

Seven: Chapter Ten

ChaP^ter T3n 

         It feels really good to watch Cal chew Celeste out.

          He’s been doing it for 6 minutes and 38 seconds now. Practically nonstop. Even with the door to the break room closed, you can hear Cal’s muffled yelling through the glass. Not that you’d need to hear the conversation to know he’s upset, but still.

          It is currently 9:47 pm. The only people left in the precinct are us and Officer Blackwell, who stands guard near the entrance awkwardly. He cringes every time Cal raises his voice, which makes me even happier. I sit at Cal’s desk, upright and proper while trying to keep my patient smile off my face. My hands ball and unball themselves against my knees anxiously.

          Cal is completely furious. You should’ve seen him in the car ride back here. Absolutely fuming, he gave Celeste the dirtiest look I’d ever seen and snapped at her. Fuming, he yelled “Why didn’t you cover the exits?!” while Celeste’s overly glossed lips struggled to form an excuse or words of any kind. The tension in the car after that was so thick, you could’ve cut it with a knife. We all sat in silence though. Celeste had a trembling lip, I had a hidden smile, and Cal had one hand on his head while he neared having a heart attack. He sort of looks like he’s about to have a heart attack now.

          “I asked you to do this one thing… Are you a fucking moron? I… The Android even knew what to…” are snippets of his yelling that comes out more clear. Celeste stands silently, still looking like a painted whore and trying not to collapse in on herself or yell back.

          It’s 9:53 when the yelling stops. Cal throws the break room door open, storming outside, still fuming. Celeste stays in the room, turned away from me to hide her shame. I stand up as Cal approaches, at the ready for anything he may need.

          “Can you believe her?” he says loudly, too angry to realize he’s actually talking to me willingly. “I mean I give her one job and she just blows it off, completely costing us the whole fucking operation!”

          “It’s my fault too,” I offer, a little nervous. My hands meet each other behind my back, playing with the others fingers in anticipation. “I should’ve been faster.”

          Cal’s piercing gaze meets my eyes crisply. Despite his increased heartrate, I can tell his sharpness is out of intensity instead of rage.

          “No, you saved my life,” he says, almost like a promise. “We would’ve caught them if it weren’t for Celeste.”

          There’s a silent exchange between us then. A wordless agreement, a quiet thank you. Cal isn’t aggressive towards me because I’m an Android. It’s almost like he’s talking to another person, and he’s grateful that they saved him in peril. Cal walks past me and takes something from his desk. I don’t turn around to look, instead taking the opportunity to run a quick diagnostic. I am in optimal condition.

          “You gonna be hear in the morning?” Cal says from behind me.

          “I believe so, though there’s always a chance for unlikely things to occur.”

          “Like what? An Android snatcher sneaking in?” Cal chuckles to himself quietly. I keep the recording of it in my memories, because it’s the first time I’ve heard Cal chuckle and I like how musical it seems.

          “Always a chance,” I repeat.

          “Guess so.” Cal closes his door with a muted slam and fumbles with his clanking keychain. “Night Tin Fuck.”

          “Goodnight,” I mean to say with a friendly tone. It comes out hoarsely, like someone whose insatiably nervous.

          I watch Cal walk away for the night, out the doors and past my field of vision. Then, it is just me and Celeste Amora, who is trying to contain her tears in the break room.

          I don’t feel like standing upright while I power myself down. Instead, I go around to my desk and sit down in the chair. I use my arms as a sort of cushion for my head. This is something I’ve seen humans do when they’re very tired. I’ve seen Cal come close to doing so once or twice, but he never does. He just sips his coffee with a zombie-like expression on his face.

          I let my led cycle yellow and my vision go black.

          “Aleksandra,” she greets coldly. Her outfit is white today, and she’s turned away from me. Of course she is. I still can’t manage to enter into our scape the correct direction.

          “Hello, Adelicia.”

          She says nothing to me for 37 seconds.

          “How would you say your investigation is going?”

          “It’s progressing,” I say slowly. I can feel her disapproval, her frustration, her patient demeanor expand with my words. “I’m learning a lot about the Exceptions.”

          “Why don’t you tell me what you’ve learned?” Her voice is so cold and sinister. She’s challenging me. Has she seen my memories? No. No she couldn’t have. But… there’s always a chance.

          “I’ve learned that many Exception Androids seem to go astray because of an emotional shock. A child model that killed its parents showed signs of PTSD from a history or memory of sexual abuse.”

          “What else have you learned?”

          “The Exception Androids I’ve encountered have all chosen to hide immediately after their deviation. The child model stayed in a closed shower, and two others squatted in abandoned buildings. It’s like… it’s like they want to avoid confrontation.”

          “Merely an emulation of fear,” Adelicia tells me.

          “Of course.”

          For some reason, I begin to compare Adelicia to a rose. I’ve seen her in every shade a rose can take- white, red, yellow, blue- all of them in the form of a pantsuit or blazer and skirt. She’s pale and prim and proper, with elegant manners and a tone like ice. Her mind, sharp as ever, never stops working. But like a beautiful rose, her thorns jut out and slice open your thumb whether you’re expecting it or not. You may think you’ve said the right thing, over for her disapproval to nick you and make you bleed. Beautiful, but dangerous, Adelicia is all too similar to the overly sweet flower.

          “And your relationship with Detective Kennedy?”

          “I-he… He seemed grateful I saved his life.”

          Adelicia whirls around to face me. “Grateful?” she hisses, like a cat who doesn’t want to be stroked any longer. “I wasn’t aware you had saved his life. When did this happen?”

          Don’t answer. Don’t answer. Don’t answer. “Tonight. He was going to fall from a building. I helped him up.”

          “I see.” The disappointment oozes from her tone like poison. I’ve been noticing that more and more lately. “Aleksandra, if you don’t make progress in your mission by Christmas, I will consider replacing you.”

          Something in my biocomponent sparks. Immediately, the word ‘no!’ pops into my brain in response to her words. It’s almost like… it’s almost like I don’t want to be replaced. I don’t want to be shut down.

          But there’s a problem with this line of thinking. I don’t ‘want’ anything. I’m an Android. I am completely replaceable and the idea shouldn’t bother me.

          That’s what I decide to tell Adelicia. “For the sake of the mission, that might be best. I am of no importance and the investigation should come first.”

          Adelicia’s features soften in their own way. Like a wash of approval finally comes over her at my words. Her pupils dilate slightly, her shoulders wearing down in a type of relaxation. Despite this, her grey eyes are cold and steady, frozen like the rest of her.

          “You have until Christmas.”

          I open my eyes. This time, it is not a smooth, swift and soft motion. It is startled, almost clumsy as I do so. I’m certain my led runs red with it.

          It’s 4:17am. I can see the darkness of the sky outside, and a faint sprinkle of stars dotting above. The moon is still visible up high, like a shiny, vanilla colored crescent. It’s going to rain soon. A dark purple color will fill the sky and replace the midnight blue currently present, and the sun will rise in the east.

          I sit up, not taking my arms from their position on my desk. It seems so… calm. Calm and quiet. Even with the occasional airplane overhead, and the distant sound of drills and smoke and party music, it’s a silent night. I can see the space needle, and water and even a faint picture of mountains way in the distance. Skyscrapers and other sleek buildings stand tall in the landscape.

          Today is Tuesday, October 19th. The temperature today will be 48 degrees Fahrenheit, with suspected showers in the morning. The day after tomorrow, Cal will turn 27 years old. I wonder if he’s excited about it.

          It dawns on me now that I am still wearing my stakeout outfit. My hat had fallen off in my sleep, but my jacket and jeans and shirt are all still present. I put the beanie back easily and turn my attention elsewhere. The leather of my baggy coat is still warm with Cal’s scent. The black turtleneck would’ve gotten itchy against human skin by now, but I don’t mind at all. It’s soft to me.

          I watch the sky for a little while. I really, really like it. I like it even more when at 4:28am, drops of rain start hitting the windows outside. It’s not strong, like bullets or hail, but gentle, like flower petals. It’s so lovely, wonderful even.

          Somewhere, above the moon and the stars, some humans believe there’s a heaven. Supposedly, the clouds there roll in shades of brilliant, blinding whites, pale oranges and rose pinks. The sun rises in the West and sets in the East, and the moon appears as lilac and periwinkle. You can see the planets and all the planets moons. There are corners with lush greens and trees so tall you’ll never see the tops, and others with white sand beaches with jade waves and jewels buried deep down. The sky changes colors depending on the angle, like an Opal. There is no real end, only serenity and breathing.

          I would very much like to see this thing someday, because the humans all describe it so beautifully. But this heaven is only attainable after death, and I doubt there’s a heaven for Androids.

          I push myself out of my chair, and shuffle down the way to the elevator. I push the button for the roof and begin up. The sultry elevator voice tells me I’ve arrived and the doors slide open smoothly, revealing the dank hallway I remember. It hasn’t changed since the last time I was here, and all the trash and other effects are still in place. I’m about to step out, but then I press the button to go back down. Cue the voice alerting me of my destination, cue the doors opening. The next time I press the up button, I’m holding a small, dark trash bag in my right hand.

          I clean everything in the hallway to the roof. Beer bottles, chip bags, a handful of old light blue pills in the corner. They all disappear down the trash bag, which I tie up and leave by the door. When I emerge outside, the biting air hits my synthetic skin. I don’t react to it in the slightest.

          After 43 seconds, I walk to the edge of the building, and sit. My legs dangle over the side, hanging over the pavement below. The rain drops spring and pop on my shoulders. My hat protects my hair from getting damp. Petrichor fills my nose and I’m drowning in the smell of spring. In contrast, the Autumn leaves in the distance are falling in orange, brown, and crimson dots.

          And, maybe for the first time ever, the city of Seattle is still. It all reminds me of a painting- perhaps one that Cal Kennedy himself has painted.

          I doubt there’s a heaven for Androids.

Software Instability^^

     At 10:03am, I move myself from my position. The sun has risen, the rain slowly ceasing out. Several officers and detectives have entered the building, ready to start their day. I even see Captain Ericson share a kiss with his husband while his two children sit with earphones in the backseat.      

          I rouse myself up and grab the trash bag. When I get back to the main floor and the bullpin, there is a man sitting at Cal’s desk. The man is, in fact, Cal. This takes my by surprise. He’s never been this early before. Still, I put the trash bag in the bin by the break room before making my way over.

          A few steps away, I pause. Cal doesn’t have a coffee cup with him today, and his form is more hunched than usual. He must be exhausted. I turn around before he notices me, return to the inside of the glass room and poor him a cup of steaming black coffee. I put a top on so he doesn’t sip it too fast and burn his tongue, and then carry it out to him.

          I put the cup on his desk softly, as to not alarm him. The Detective looks up at me, and his eyes are glinting in the light.

          “Didn’t I tell you I hated you?” he croaks tiredly. His voice is husky and slightly sleepy, but I don’t mind. It’s low enough for only me to hear it in the commotion of the plaza.

          “Multiple times.”

          Cal breathes out with a quick smirk. “And you’re still bringing me coffee?” I don’t say anything, because he seems like he has something more to tell me. “For a bunch of freaks who seem to be demanding freedom, you sure do like slavery.”

          “I bring you coffee because I want to,” I correct, quickly. Cal’s eyes dance with curiosity at my statement. “At least… I think I do.”

          His eyes look me up and down. I like it, I think. “You’re still wearing those old clothes?” he half asks, half observes.

          “So are you,” I counter. Though slightly wrinkled, he is still dawning his dark blue shirt and normal brown jacket.

          Just like last night, there is a silent exchange between us. We can both pretend that Cal’s hostility towards me doesn’t exist for the moment. His still eyes are nearly kind, and his lips are soft and slightly upturned in a relaxed way. I reciprocate, making note of all the little details on his face. He has a freckle I never noticed before, under the right side of his jaw. His face is slightly more clean shaven today, though not by much. It seems stubble and five o’clock shadow are his signature look. I don’t mind, because it suits him and he looks handsome, just rough.

          After 10 seconds, I turn away and walk to the other side, seating myself in my desk.

          Throughout the rest of the morning, Cal and I share a few words.

          “Did you sleep well last night?” I ask as he sips the coffee.

          “Yeah,” he replies. He then gives me a rather unexpected line of dialogue. “You?”

          Androids don’t really ‘sleep’, though I suppose what I was doing was the equivalent. Even so, it wasn’t my most friendly encounter. The more I encounter Adelicia in my thoughts or even just in the white room, the more icy she becomes to me.

          “Yes,” I lie.

          A few minutes later, we have another verbal interaction.

          “I have not seen Officer Amora this morning,” I say aloud. I meant it mainly to myself as I glance around the room, but Cal heard.

          “Yeah, me either.”

          I lean forward on my shoulders, my curiosity taking the best of me. “I don’t mean to impede,” I begin slowly. “But what exactly is your relationship with Officer Amora?”

          Cal rubs the back of his neck like he has a crick in it. I can tell he’s thinking of an answer, because maybe he doesn’t even know himself. “Heh,” he chuckles shortly. “Well there certainly is one.”

          “I-I just mean..” don’t say it. Don’t you dare say it Aleks. “She seems a little… bitchy.”

          Cal freezes in place, watching me. I’m scared for a moment that whatever relation he and I have is ruined, all because I ignored my Social Relations program. But then a smirk smile spreads across his face. His brows ease up and his eyes sparkle with charisma. A quick laugh escapes from his lips.

          With that, my own features soften. My shoulders ease as the tension melts away, and a smirk of my own emerges on my lips.           “Well, you’re certainly not wrong,” Cal says lightheartedly as he looks back at his computer.

          I watch Cal sip his coffee between our short bursts of dialogue. As time goes on, he does seem to come more alive with the caffeine. He types faster, opens his eyes more, takes shorter blinks. The darkness and bags under his eyes don’t just evaporate into thin air, they remain, but I can’t define how I feel about them.

          I don’t think I like that they mean he lacks a healthy sleeping schedule. But I do think I like how much character they add to his outward appearance. He looks entirely unique from everyone else here, maybe everyone else I’ve ever seen. He lacks a uniform, a clean image. He doesn’t mind just being. I wouldn’t understand that. It’s far too outside of my programming.

          At 12:10, Cal disrupts the air of silence between us.

          “Hey,” he mutters. His eyes are averted, stuck to something on his desk nervously. “I uh… I wanted to thank you. About yesterday, I mean.”

          I know he really didn’t like saying that. I run my tongue along my lips inside my mouth, nodding my head sincerely. I can’t help the words that fall from my lips after that. “Of course.”

          “No I mean you… you didn’t have to do it. You choose me over the… never mind.”

          I’ll never forget it. One, because I physically can’t, unless my memory gets corrupted. Two, because I think it’s important for me to remember. Still, the only thing more to that conversation is a quiet “sure” from me.          

          “Actually, I did want to ask you something.”

          Cal looks in my eyes this time. They’re not as relaxed or lighthearted as they were, and his eyebrows are more scrunched down in their usual position. Still pleasant enough to look at according to the golden ratio, though.

          “I was going to ask Celeste but, well- you know…”

          I dip my head slightly, urging him to continue.

          “My birthday’s in a few days and I’m going to see my father.”

          “You mentioned that. Your brother too, correct?”

          “Yeah,” Cal clears his throat with a cough. “Well, my father’s been bugging me to get a girlfriend and I was wondering it you’d… you know… come along?”

          My led flashes red so fast you wouldn’t be able to see it. But then it goes yellow as I try to make sense of the proposition. “You mean as your girlfriend?”

          “No- kind of. Like a fake girlfriend. To trick my family for the night.” Cal watches my led as an indication as to my answer. He’s so anxious about this. I can see his heart rate only increase. “You can say no,” he adds quickly.

Registering Request…

Creating Pro and Con List…

Pro and Con List Created.

          “I can do that,” I tell him. “It’s no trouble. I will have to research things that girlfriends do, however.”  

          “Fine, that’s…” Cal waves his hand, leaning back in his chair. His heart rate decreases, slowly but surely. “That’s fine.”

          My led stays yellow. I can’t define the feeling in my biocomponents, sparking against my synthetic skin and making the fake hair on my arm stand on end. Anxiety? Anticipation? Anguish? Or just plain Aleks?

          “My dad lives in Spokane, so we’ll have to take a half day tomorrow.”

          My led swirls green as I confirm my schedule. “I have no issues with that.” A new idea runs into my mechanical brain though. “I don’t have any suitable clothes, however.”

          Cal lets out a joking scoff. “Clearly.”

          “Hey, this is your jacket,” I retort.

          “And it looks better on me,” he quips slyly. I wonder if he’s forgotten I’m an Android when he jokes with me like this, if he’s so focused on the comedic value he doesn’t care who it’s with. Maybe that’s what everyone who hasn’t shown hostility towards me have been like. Shovelman, Tom, even that woman who smiled at me- Sophia. Were they so intent on being themselves and being in the moment that they didn’t register how different we are? Or is it because they were so aware of our differences that it was a sort of mercy to show me a kindness. I know Cal isn’t doing the latter, but maybe the others were.

          “That’s your opinion,” I decide to say jokingly, typing something into my computer with a smug look on my face. I didn’t even realize it was there until the memory of Cal making the same expression comes to mind. I must’ve learned it from him without realizing.

          “You know, if you’re going to be my girlfriend, you’re going to have to be nicer than that.”

I doubt there’s a heaven for Androids.

Software Instability ^

taglist: @omg-we-really-doo​

hope you enjoy, S. happy fourth.

#dbh #dbh fanfiction #detroit become human #detroit: become human #detroit become human fanfiction #detroit: become human fanfiction #story #android #androids #technology