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Name: Cellach Ardghal Stonehelm

Age: 19

Build: Athletic

Height: 1.80m

Weight: 75kg

Hair Colour: Blond with brown streaks

Eyes: Silver

Marital status: Single

Sexuality: Bisexual

Occupation: College Student

Race: Human

 

 

 

 

Vertlea, the capital of Hollowhaven, is a city where only the rich people have access to or live. It is a beautiful city with high rise buildings. It is an overpopulated city, not only by the humankind but Androids alike. It is Vertlea where the first Android was created and advertised to the public.

 

Now, 12 years later, three generations of Android has lived in the city. The first generations were called the Highly Intelligent Droid or HID for short. These Androids represented their names well. They were very intelligent creatures, capable of solving multiple problems at a time in the blink of an eye. However, they were emotionless robots. Humans who possesses the first generation of Android, while they do not complain about the efficiency of their Androids, they were not happy that these creatures do not feel human emotions. Too dull, they had said.

 

5 years after the first generations were released, the second generation of Androids, Self-Aware Droid (SAD), was created. Now, more advanced with human emotions input into their brain. They could feel emotions and express their very own emotions. They acted almost human and looked like a human. The similarities were brilliant. However, there were still dissatisfaction from the general public. They proposed to the creator that they would like Androids that could fill human desires well.

 

Hence, the third and current generation, Humanoid Simulation Droid (HSD), was introduced and currently sold like hot cakes. HSD, they are the highly efficient Androids with great intelligence, able to experience human emotions and have sexual drives that is on par with a human's if not better.

 

Cellach Ardghal Stonehelm, is the sole heir to the Stonehelm Corporation. At 19 years of age, he started living by himself in a large apartment his father bought for him. He had complained and argued that he should buy one with his own money (which he earned from a part-time job as a web designer) but he had been denied by his old man. Hence, a new apartment of his own (under his name) and he is the only occupant. He once had a SAD for a companion that goes by the name of Ebrtron when he was living with his parents. But the SAD was currently remaining at home to assist his parents because Erbtron thought it better that Cellach should start learning to be independent.

 

The blond-haired man threw his backpack to the couch and sat down heavily, cushioning his head with his forearms as he leaned backwards. The silence in the apartment was eerie. And lonely, his mind quipped. Sighing, he dragged himself bodily to the fridge in search for food. Leftovers in the form of pizza from yesterday was taken out and thrust into the microwave. His stomach rumbled as the microwave dinged.

 

The first taste of cheese caused him to moan in appreciation. His friends once asked whether he eat to live or he live to eat. He had answered, "I live to eat." Well, technically, he ate to live to eat. The love for food never did go away even while surviving on leftovers. Food is food and should be appreciated and loved.

 

Just as he was grabbing the last slice, the doorbell of his apartment sounded. Frowning as he glanced at the digital clock on his kitchen counter, he wondered who it might be visiting him at this hour. Stuffing the last piece of pizza, he placed the plates into the basin and ran his greasy fingers under running water before wiping them on his trousers. He reminded himself that he needed to do the laundry tomorrow.

 

He peaked into the pinhole of his apartment door and saw no one. Strange. Maybe there was a mistake? He opened the door and was startled when he was greeted by a handsome figure. 'Where did he appear from?' he thought as he tumbled back a few steps, almost tripping in the process.

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Name:

Lance (Droid A001)

 

Age:

Ageless (Appears 25 years old; Lifespan is 50 years)

 

Appearance:

Tall stature. Slender build with toned, muscle definition (irrelevant, due to mechanical strength). Pale complexion. Blank, magenta eyes. Short, silver hair. Attire usually consists of a white, long-sleeve, dress shirt; navy, sweater vest; black slacks; and dark brown loafers. A faint, serial code and concealed, access panel is located on the back of his neck.

 

Personality:

Klutz. Frank. Curious. Protective. Loyal. Practical. Stubborn. Aloof.

 

History:

Originally manufactured as a highly intelligent droid (HID), Lance initially belonged to an elite family of scientists. He assisted in their research and served them as a servant. Those were tranquil years, until Lance received one-sided attraction from the family’s mother. When her feelings weren’t reciprocated and her husband became aware of the matter, Lance was accused of dividing the family and was shortly abandoned.

 

As advancements in android technology were achieved, Lance became increasingly unfavorable. For several years, he went from owner to owner, often abused and bitterly abandoned with the public’s rising demands and expectations.

 

Lance’s last owner—a terminally ill patient—placed a request for Lance to be modified into a humanoid, simulation droid (HSD). Their dying wish was to end Lance’s despairing cycle and guarantee him a happy life.

 

Although Lance was upgraded in many areas, his HID core couldn’t be tampered with. As a result, his lifespan remained unchanged. In addition, the alterations didn’t damage his memories. Now equipped with human emotions, Lance reflected on his previous circumstances with a jaded outlook on humans.

 

Because he is the first, dated android to be integrated with a newer system, Lance is sent to a random person to gather data for his look-alike creator—primary inventor of the android unit.

 

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With the utmost gracefulness, Lance folded an arm over his chest and bowed humbly. "I sincerely apologize for my unannounced disturbance. My name is Lance." He straightened himself. Stray locks of silver hair fell into magenta eyes, like sheen curtains. He swept his bangs to the side, before retrieving an envelope from his back pocket. It was closed with a glossy, wax seal. The insignia could be easily recognized by anyone with enough wealth for leisure: Hollowhaven Droid Incorporation—the founding, multibillion company that oversees and funds the research and manufacturing of droids.

 

"I've been instructed to formally deliver this to you," Lance said, handing the official letter to the young man. He held the man's gaze with a blank stare, face exuding with indifference. Because Lance knew why he was standing before this stranger in the middle of the night, he could easily deduce what the contents of that envelop may be. His calculations were always flawless.

 

Lance predicted there to be an informal letter—or rather an extremely brief note—informing this stranger to look after him. He was certain it would lack any additional information nor an addresser. His creator had always been a relaxed man who often burdened others with his work—a personality polar-opposite to Lance's, despite his spitting image. Though the inventor had grown older with age, his troublesome whims persisted.

 

He internally cringed at the thought: "Dear Somebody, This guy needs a home. Please look after him!" Lance desperately hoped he wasn't mentioned in such a pathetic manner. Swearing to lecture his creator later, he swallowed his pride, for the sake of his objective.

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Righting himself before he could embarrass himself, he smoothed the creases in his hoodie in a late attempt to make himself presentable. There was a noticeable smudge on the pocket of his upper garment where he had wiped his hands on previously to remove the grease from the pizza. Goodness gracious. There is a gorgeous person standing before him and he was making a fool of himself! Good going, Cellach. He could be a potential bed partner in the future. What? He is 19 and horny.

 

The blond-haired male stared at the letter given to him and saw the insignia of Hollowhaven Droid Incorporation. A formal letter? He was just a normal college student. To receive such a letter must be really important.

 

Wait, so does that mean that the man standing before him is a Droid? Why would a Droid be standing before him? How did he fail to recognise that the other man was a Droid in the first place? Right, he was too interested in getting into the other's pants.

 

He broke the seal to pull the letter out. It was not long at all. Just a simple... Narrowing his eyebrows, he wondered, 'is this how they write letters to everybody?' and yet it was signed by the creator of Droids, an admirable man of all times. The person was either too busy or... Nah, he can't be lazy right? He shooed the thought away and focused at the matter at hand.

 

While having a Droid might be a burden for a college student, where would he get the time to spend it with this Lance? He has lectures to attend, time is needed to study and extra time for his part time job. Weekends were reserved for going out with friends.

 

However, having a Droid gifted to him, delivered by the creator himself sent a thrill through his body. Remembering his manners and the length of time Lance has spent standing outside his door which could potentially create a suspicious scene for his nosy neighbours to gossip about, Cellach invited the Droid in.

 

"I'm sorry, where are my manners? Please come in and take a seat in my living room, which is the first room to your left. I would offer you tea but that would damage your system, right? We wouldn't want that to happen. Goodness, I have not introduced myself! Hi. I'm Cellach, Cellach Stonehelm." He laughed nervously as he held out his hand in the middle of the corridor. He was babbling and once again making a fool of himself. What to do? You don't get many new guests in his apartment and even in his old house, Ebrtron would be the one leading the guests into the house. Meanwhile, all Cellach has to do is get himself ready before meeting the guests.

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Lance bowed with gratitude. "Thank you, sir." As he followed his new master into the apartment, Lance noted Cellach's lack of proper mannerisms. His keen eyes had already detected an oily stain on Cellach's clothes and his inexperience with welcoming guests, but he remained quiet.

 

Stepping inside, Lance was greeted with the lingering aroma of tomatoes and cheese. He glanced towards the kitchen. Stale air wafted through the room. Though it had no affect on his functioning, he surmised it had to be stifling for his master. He proceeded with handling the matter himself, leaving Cellach alone without permission.

 

Inside the kitchen, Lance filled a tea kettle with water and set it over a glowing burner. As the water heated, he noticed a sleek microwave was left ajar: the source of food odors. Lance peered inside. Droplets of oil splattered the microwave's interior, and crumbs were strewn across its rotation platter. He straightened himself. Upon closer inspection, the seemingly clean kitchen was actually quite messy, to the trained eye. Lance tried to overlook the kitchen's state, but he couldn't help but analyze it in relation to Cellach. He pondered whether his new master was one to strive for first impressions yet fail with attention to details. Perhaps, he was instructed to situate himself in the living room, because Cellach was trying to hide his unpreparedness. The thought slightly amused him.

 

Sighing to himself, he opened a nearby window. A cool breeze gently drifted in, tousling Lance's silver hair. Although the night air would cause a drop in the apartment's temperature, Lance deemed fresh air more important. His attention still occupied by Cellach, he began to search through his master's cupboards for tea. "It's more polite to leave decisions up to your guests, sir." It was a delayed reply. His formal politeness conflicted with the snide remark. If not for his measured slyness, his correction would be deemed downright insulting, in an owner-droid relationship.

 

"Though my functioning isn't dependent on organic nutrition, I'm capable of simulating consumption. A servant cannot properly satisfy their master's tastes, if they themselves cannot judge their results, yes?" Lance selected a small, tin container from one of the cupboard shelves. Because he served elite families in the past, Lance could easily distinguish refined products from their cheap alternatives. Plucking a teabag from the container, he dropped it into a ceramic mug and poured hot water over it. They were only new acquaintances, yet he was already navigating his way through this stranger's kitchen. Lance made a mental note to restrain himself more. Behaving on his impulses would only ruin the data he was ordered to collect.

 

Although he initially decided against serving himself tea, he went ahead and did so anyway. Lance didn't want Cellach to misinterpret him as being one with exclusive, snobbish tastes. Once both drinks were prepared, he regrouped with Cellach in the living room. A packet of sugar was placed beside Cellah's tea. Lance wasn't familiar enough to know his tastes.

 

He sat down and continued to intensely observe the man. He wondered about Cellach's relations with the other Stonehelms. His new master was a member of the elite, yet he hadn't a single, exquisite, tea cup nor exotic blend of tea herbs. The apartment was expensive; Some things inside were cheap. The contradicting state of the apartment piqued Lance's curiosity.

 

(OOC: I took the liberty of making the kitchen messy, based on your character's previous behavior with napkins...well lack their of. XD Please let me know, if you'd like me to revise any details. ^ ^ )

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Cellach gaped as he was brushed off by a guest of his house and a Droid at that. How dare he?! As Lance puttered about in the kitchen as if he owned the place, the blond-haired man was about to tell him off only to think, ‘Wait. He’s a Droid and he is going to be under my care. I may as well just let him serve me.’

 

Watching Lance as he scan his kitchen cause his body to still. What? He had planned to clean the microwave right after his dinner but was stopped from his task by a visit from this silver-haired man. Was the Droid going to comment about his, in his opinion, clean kitchen? He made sure to keep it fairly free from dirt. Maybe he should have wiped the tables at least once after a meal. Or perhaps it was the kitchen sink that needed washing? Or was it the state of the fridge filled with papers from bills to pay to things to buy and magnets? He sincerely hoped that the Droid would not open his fridge to look inside. The sorry state of the inside of his fridge could make one frown.

 

The human turned towards his late night visitor once more as the other was looking for who knows what. Tilting his head as he looked at the male’s back, admiring the gorgeous figure while the other was busy, he was startled when Lance started talking.

 

Well, colour him surprised as he found out that the Droid was actually capable to taking in food. Brilliant. Ebrtron had not been able to do so. Hence, cooks were hired for that, sampling food and preparing meals for the Stonehelms. While Cellach had heard of Droids being able to consume human food, he had never met one before. Until now, that is.

 

Cellach stood awkwardly at his kitchen doorway when he realized what Lance was doing. He was making tea. The blond-haired male dearly missed taking tea. He had been so busy he was not able to enjoy a good cup of tea at home. He would not be surprised if the tea he bought some time ago would be expired. But Lance, had simply drop the teabag into the mug which was gifted to him by a friend of his on his birthday and poured hot water into it, indicating that the tea was still in good condition.

 

Walking into the living area, he let Lance perform his job without any interruption from him. He took a seat on the couch, wondering why the creator decided to send Lance to a mere college student like him to take care of. Surely, such a good-looking Droid could find a better home and a rich master to serve easily.

 

His face lit up as tea was served and he gulped it gratefully. The bag of sugar placed by the side of his cup was not torn open. He liked his tea without any sugar in them. Sugar would destroy the original taste of good tea.

 

The tea flowed down his throat once more, making him sigh in appreciation. It was not the usual tea he was served while living in the mansion but this was the best he could get his hands on from the mart close to his apartment. Maybe he should ask his father or the cook where to purchase excellent tea.

 

“So, what would you like to do next to entertain yourself? I have some lectures to go through before I hit the sack. Also, I have a guest bedroom. I guess you could take that? There’s only a bed and a closet. I did not have any time to decorate that particular room so it’s pretty plain.” Cellach placed his mug on the table and looked at Lance.

 

“Guess I would have to buy you some clothes too? Do you have any work by the way?” He added as an afterthought.

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Lance sipped his tea, absorbing Cellach's appearance and mannerisms with attentive eyes. Despite the drowsy ambiance induced by the dim lighting and comfortable couch, Lance remained poised. His new master appeared quite lax. Noticing how easily he was invited in, he decided to correct any misunderstandings. Did Cellach know what he was getting into?

 

"I'm certain the letter I delivered provided no explanation as to why I've been sent to you. Please allow me to inform you personally." Lance took another sip of tea and crossed his legs, unintentionally exuding cultured airs. He continued. "On behalf of Hollowhaven Droid Incorporation, I humbly ask for your cooperation. Since I am the first droid to be modified from HID to HSD, information regarding modern updates in older models is sparse. More data must be collected."

 

Lance paused, quietly setting his empty mug onto the living room table. "Please rest assured that your supervision and active participation is unnecessary. Being passive and carrying on with your usual routine is enough. What will be measured and analyzed are my newly installed responses to our interactions. While you attend school, I shall perform standard, service duties and errands. Whenever you return, I'll review my data in the available room you offered, to respect your privacy. After I obtain a sufficient amount of data, I will take my leave, and everything will return to normal for you." Being provided a room of his own caught him off guard. In the past, when his services were no longer needed for the day, he would switch to idle and recharge in a hallway (sometimes a closet, when his owners perceived him as furniture or convenient appliance).

 

Lance stood and walked to Cellach, arm extended for a handshake. "Do you accept?" Standing above him, his devilish sharp eyes glowed fiercely, like alluring, crimson jewels drawing in the captivated.

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Cellach stared, his jaw dropping open before he had to remind himself that doing so was unsightly. He quickly recovered and thought of what Lance was saying. Wow. They could upgrade a HID to a HSD now? That is just so brilliant! Maybe he could request for Ebrtron to be upgraded to a HSD too.

 

The blond-haired male backtracked a little. Wait a minute. This Lance was sent over just to interact with him? That's it? No other special purposes like...? Cellach coughed. He should seriously get a girlfriend or a boyfriend soon or he might do something that he would regret. And the other would be leaving soon too. It would not do to get involved intimately with Lance. It would end with a heartbreak. For Cellach. Lance would probably forget about him once he return to Hollowhaven Droid Incorporation. They could always reset him although the thought of Lance forgetting him made him feel sad. There. He was starting to feel attached to this Droid already. He really needed to keep their interaction as minimal as possible if he wanted to have his heart in one piece when Lance leaves.

 

Looking up at Lance felt slightly uncomfortable to the college student. Unless they were engaged in sexual activities and he was giving the other an oral job, he did not like being looked down at. He casually stood up and took the Droid's cold hand in his in a firm grip. "I accept," he spoke as he shook the other's hand.

 

Cellach let go and started stretching his limbs. He could hear a small crack from his shoulder when he pushed his arms above his head. "Well then, your room is the one next to the kitchen. Mine is on the opposite of yours. If there's anything you need, don't hesitate to ask. I'm just going to my room to study now." Assuming that his chores would be taken over by the Droid now, he set his empty cup into the sink in the kitchen and padded silently into his bedroom, leaving the door ajar in case the other wanted something.

 

Pulling out his books and laying them on his desk, he wondered briefly if he had treated the other too coldly when he decided to put some distance between them. It was to protect himself but maybe he could have done that differently instead of seeming so mean and unfriendly. He had not even thank Lance for tea! And he could have made the Droid comfortable while settling in. It was not like he really really must study for tonight. Groaning, he switched his table lamp on and tried to distract himself from thoughts about the Droid by reading through his lecture notes.

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"Thank you for your cooperation. I look forward to working with you." Bowing with gratitude, Lance obscured an enigmatic smirk that crept onto his face. Everything was progressing rather smoothly. Gaining his new master's cooperation was far less challenging than he anticipated. A worst-case scenario was avoided, and he wouldn't have to return to headquarters with regrettable news. If he disappointed Hollowhaven Droid Incorporation yet again, not even his master would be able to safeguard him. The vivid thought of mangled androids sprawled over a scrap pile wandered into his mind. His confident smile wilted.

 

Although Cellach wasn't around, Lance continued to conduct himself with the utmost courteous. Even while quietly washing the few dishes, he remained poised. His movements were inaudible. Not a single clink of the mugs could be heard, as they were scrubbed and stored away. He also took the liberty of addressing the rest of the kitchen, while he was at it. Quietly rummaging through the sink's disorganized cabinets, Lance finally found a sponge and cleaning detergent. They're unopened packaging left him conflicted: He was grateful the apartment was supplied, but their lack of usage left room for improvement.

 

Every inch of the kitchen was scoured. Any loose papers and envelopes were piled neatly. Random notes covering the refrigerator were rearranged by priority and category. And though it displeased him, Lance tackled the fridge's unsatisfactory interior. Not only was the fridge barren of nutritional food, Lance's optic sensors detected multiple colonies of unhealthy bacteria. Though he dreaded the earful he would definitely receive in the morning, Lance went ahead with salvaging the little he could and tossing the rest. He recorded another reminder: Restock refrigerator; Cook breakfast as token of apology.

 

Once the kitchen had been tamed, Lance closed the ajar window and retired into his designated room. He scanned his new, private space. A simple bed was pushed against a wall, soaking in the moon beams that descended through a small window. Across from it was a wide, sliding door—most likely the closet Cellach mentioned. Despite its sparsity, Lance deemed it a room more than sufficient for an android. His new master was certainly more generous than his previous ones. Cellach had to be an outlier. There was no way such consideration for androids was standard.

 

Still brooding, Lance walked towards his bed. Disturbed, dust motes floated through the stale air, as he sat on its edge. The stiff mattress remained rigid, resisting his weight. As he sat idle in the darkness, his grim imagination from earlier regained his attention. Inflamed, Lance clicked his tongue. His armor of civility was actually riddled with bitter chinks, occasionally allowing his jaded core to seep through. Now alone and idle, he steeped in his detestation for humans.

 

He didn't trust them. Lance suspected something sinister always lurking behind their shallow smiles. Androids—the product of selfishness and convenience—were victims to their whims. They could be exploited and scrapped with cold indifference, for their feelings were calculated; their existence could be rebuilt. As he contemplated that his very emotions were programmed, Lance chuckled dryly, pitying himself. He wondered what Cellach saw, when he looked at him: a bunch of numbers and metal? Lance smothered the optimism that began to sprout inside him with the hasty surmise of Cellach being the same as every other human.

 

Thinking of humans always reminded Lance of his previous master. They were an error in the algorithm of the human species. Now remembering their sincerity, Lance sighed. Somehow, his memory of them seemed to suppress his disgraceful mentality. He needed to be composed, to avoid tampering his data. And as much as he detested them, Lance was still curious about humans. In an attempt to refocus himself, he decided to check on Cellach's well-being. According to his internal database, it was three in the morning. He knocked softly on his master's door. "Mr. Stonehelm?" His voice was barely audible, in case Cellach was already sleeping.

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  • 2 weeks later...

Cellach read a few sentences in the textbook he borrowed from the library but found himself unable to focus well and understand the passage. He tried rereading it a few times but none of it made sense to him. Instead, he found his mind wandering to his new flat mate. His attractive Android flat mate. His beautiful silver tresses and magenta eyes. He had never seen eyes of that colour on an Android before. They were special and he could see the vivid images of those eyes directed at him in his mind. It made him feel... a range of emotions he was not sure how to label them. Intimidated? But attracted to them nonetheless.

 

The blond-haired male sighed as he imagined sliding his fingers against the Android's. How would the skin of Lance's feel like? Would they feel like Ebrtron or the few Androids, more specifially, HSDs, that he had sex with? And how would it feel like to kiss those lips that were not fully human? How would it feel like to be close to Lance, really?

 

Shaking his head, he glared at the book in front of him as if the book did something to him and now, he is glaring it to death. Well, technically, a book is dead so he could not really glare it to death. Glaring something to death was humanly impossible in the first place. Cellach slammed his forehead against his desk, hoping that the pain would remove the stupidity that was his brain. Having a good-looking Android in the same apartment proves to be difficult for Cellach and will continue to do so, the man was sure of it. He was beginning to see how sexually frustrated he would be but he was not sure the other would want to involve with him. After all, Lance was only here because he was sent by his creator.

 

He got out of his chair and started scratching his abdomen under his shirt. After that, he started stretching a little. Seemed like today will be one of those nights where he is unable to concentrate. It would be futile and a waste of time to continue. He might as well take a shower right now.

 

Cellach started pulling out his pyjamas and a pair of boxes. Padding softly towards the single bathroom in the whole apartment, he made sure not to make too much noise. As he was passing by the kitchen, Lance was busy righting things. Wow. Now it looked tidier and cleaner. He had thought that his kitchen was actually good as compared to his friends'. Turned out it was not so after seeing the Android's work. Smiling, he walked away.

 

Once under the shower head, he turned on the knob and warm water hit him. It helped his muscles to relax. He was grateful for it. It also made him think of other things which did not involve Lance.

 

Fifteen minutes later, he emerged in his pyjamas, throwing his dirty clothes including the stained hoodie into the hamper. Feeling refreshed, he returned to his bedroom as he dried his damp blond strands. More awake than before he took his shower, he sat down again and looked at his book. Sure enough, after a warm shower, his mind was no longer clouded with unnecessary thoughts. He could understand the passage already.

 

He continued this till late into the night until he hear a soft knock on his door. Looking at the clock next to his bed, he was surprised to see that it was actually three in the morning. He should be sleeping already. He has to be awake at eight for his first lecture. As if his body agreed with his need of sleep, he yawned before he could answer. Well, sleep, sleep, sleep, his mind chanted. He stood up and sleepily asked, "Yes, Lance?"

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"Ah, I see you're still awake. Well then, please pardon my intrusion," Lance replied, though he had already begun to enter the room. His habit of acting without approval stemmed from his creator lacking initiative and proper self-care. Cellach—on the other hand—seemed somewhat capable of looking after himself. Lance logged another internal reminder about restraining himself more. If he strained their relationship, the data would be compromised. He quietly chuckled to himself. Data, mission, reports—everything he thought about was for the sake of research. He doubted if anything useful could be gathered from such a forced scenario.

 

Redirecting his idling attention to his master, Lance more closely noticed the state of Cellach's room. Compared to the spoiled children of masters he served in the past, Cellach seemed more responsible. With the exception of a couple, strewn items, the room was quite orderly. A dirty wave of disappointment swept over Lance. Crude and careless masters were always easier to secretly disdain. Now, Lance couldn't excuse himself from respecting Cellach. Accepting the competent human in a positive light conflicted with his darker conceptions.

 

As though trying to organize his new, programmed emotions, Lance began rearranging Cellach's school materials. The desk was perfectly acceptable, but he was compelled to exert control over it. His very existence was beyond his power, but at least, he could control these smaller things. Perhaps, he felt at ease indulging in the illusion of free-will.

 

After a few, silent moments, Lance abruptly stopped. What was he doing, rudely imposing on his master like this? He cleared his throat, cutting the tense silence between them. "Please excuse my inexcusable behavior. I simply wanted to check on you, not get carried away with things." Despite having said that, Lance took the textbook from Cellach's hands, without permission of course. His cold fingertips brushed against Cellach's. The fleeting warmth caught him off guard. Quite some time had passed, since he last touched a human. Nostalgic memories of his previous master surfaced, bringing a small smile to his lips.

 

He was distanced from reality for a brief second, before realizing his vulnerable state. Instantly, he regained his withdrawn composure and set the book down. "It's unhealthy to have poor sleeping habits. I advise you to retire for the night," Lance remarked, expression rigid and cold once more. "If you wish for my aid, please don't hesitate to call out. Well then, good night, Mr. Stonehelm." Uninterested in a reply, Lance turned on his heels and left Cellach in solitude.

 

Retreating into his own room, Lance leaned against the shut door. He placed a hand over the vital core spinning deep within his chest. Its usual quietness now hummed softly. A flickering bar of light swept over his eyes, as he scanned the condition of his central unit. His core had overheated, during that short, awkward exchange. Mentally inputting a response command, Lance temporarily decreased his functions, to cool his components. As he switched to standby, he reminded himself to avoid troublesome exposure to humanity.

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