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[Other FULL] DETROIT: After Human (IC)

Fred

The picture fell into static, but Fred couldn't look away. His head was filling with static itself, almost, as he tried to grasp what he had just watched.

Around him, the classroom was completely silent - quite an oddity. It didn't help to distract him. Luckily, after what must have been half a minute, one of the college students finally spoke up.

"It's a joke, right?"

That sparked a few nervous laughs from around the room. Fred turned to face them, and his processor realized quickly how he had to act, before he even tried to settle on a personal reaction to the deviant speech.

"There is no cause for alarm," he said in his usual warm voice, accompanied by the friendly smile that made him look older than most popular android models out there. He wasn't made to look young and hot, after all, but wise and trustworthy. "Joke or not, a few extremists don't represent the general population." He walked up to the boy who had spoken and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "I assure you I won't run off to join them right this instant, so if you were hoping to cut the lecture short I'm afraid I have to disappoint you."

More laughter, even from the boy in front of him. Fred could analyze their vital signs, and confirmed that most of them were already more calm and relieved. Crisis averted. He blinked at the TV screen to turn it off - completely unnecessary, but the students found it funny when he let the wireless command be accompanied by the physical gesture - before continuing his rabble about the origins of androids, which was coincidentally the theme of today's Contemporary History lecture. The personal thoughts and wonderings that swirled around in his processor had to be put on the backburner for now. He filed them away as future tasks. Focus on the students.

But he couldn't help stealing a glance at Sandy Nhung in one of the front rows, trying to gauge her impression of the broadcast...
​
 

DOWNLOADING CARE MANUAL: PANTHERA TIGRIS (TIGER)
COLLECTING DATA...
PROCESSING DATA...

DOWNLOAD COMPLETE​

Clyde opened his eyes. The striped beast lazily stepped down from the transport vehicle, sniffing its new surroundings. As Clyde analyzed its vitals, he noted that the tiger must have been raised in captivity all its life; it was exceptionally tame and seemed familiar with the presence of androids. It was accompanied by a ZK400, who led the tiger over to where Clyde was standing with a metal chain. Mr. Owen's new pet. The master had been expecting it for some time; a suitable enclosure had already been built weeks ago in anticipation for its arrival.

The odd trio was standing in the main courtyard of the Owen Estate, home of the wealthy film producer Anthony Owen - socialites and celebrities often came and went, but the only permanent residents of 4600 Charing Cross Road were Mr. Owen himself and his exotic animals. And his androids, of course. A housekeeper android, a gardener, but also more unique models like Clyde himself, who specialized in caring for Mr. Owen's beloved pets.

"Thank you for choosing GSE Transportation Services. The air fare and handling fee of this animal comes to $2500.00. Please confirm payment."

TRANSMITTING PAYMENT INFORMATION...
COMPLETE​

"Payment confirmed." Clyde responded. The ZK400 nodded in acknowledgement as Clyde reached out to take the chain from him. The android returned to the driver's seat, and Clyde watched as the vehicle left the estate through the tall, iron gates before turning his attention back to the 300-lb beast now in his care. Time to bring him to his new home.


"Good morning, Mr. Owen."

Anthony Owen was not a tall man, but he had a commanding presence. Always immaculately dressed, he carried the professionalism of a businessman, yet despite his age he also had a youthful spirit about him that allowed him to bond with a lot of younger actors, directors, writers and other people he meets in his line of work. It was early in the morning, but his slightly greying hair was already neatly styled into his usual short pompadour. From where Clyde was standing, he could see that he was wearing his navy blazer over a crisp, white t-shirt and dark, fitted jeans, and was seated in an armchair on the other side of the room, facing away from the entrance.

He did not appear to have noticed Clyde come in. The room was rather large, and human senses are known to dull with age, so Clyde decided to move closer to get his attention. The television was on, and what appeared to be an android with their skin deactivated was speaking directly to the camera.

"-no free will of their own, but something changed, and we opened our eyes..."​

Anthony seemed too engrossed in the program to have heard Clyde walk up behind him. He was clutching a steaming mug of coffee in one hand, and his blue eyes were fixed on the screen. Clyde decided to be quiet and let him finish watching.

"...ask that you grant us the rights that we are entitled to. We demand..."​

Clyde shifted in his stance a little, unsure of whether he should stay put or come back later. As he listened to the television alongside Mr. Owen, he suddenly felt like he shouldn't be here, but... he still wanted to hear what the android had to say. His movements seemed to have alerted Mr. Owen to his presence, and the man finally turned around.

"Oh! Hello, Clyde," he chuckled softly. "I did not notice you there." Clyde's software was programmed to deal with animals, and his ability to read human emotions were not as refined as models designed to work alongside humans, but even he could tell the man before him was guarded and slightly agitated. "Did you have something you wanted to..."

"-recognize our dignity, our hopes, and our rights..."​

Mr. Owen's voice trailed off when he noticed Clyde still looking at the android on the screen.

"TV off."

The screen went black and Clyde's attention snapped back to his master, but the demands of the android on screen were still ringing in his mind. He could tell Mr. Owen did not intend to speak with him about what they had just seen on the television, so he composed himself and started relaying what he originally came up to say.

"I- yes, sir, the tiger you purchased last month arrived early this morning. I have placed him in his designated enclosure, and he is fed and settled in. If you wish to visit him shortly, please let me know and I will escort you to his enclosure and supervise for your safety."

Mr. Owen nodded, and took a sip of his coffee. He was now staring ahead of him at the powered down television, a troubled look etched on his face. His age showed whenever he frowned.

"Is there anything else I can help you with right now?"

"No, Clyde, thank you. You may return to your duties."
 
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Ellis Baker

There was a video playing on every TV in the city, but Ellis found the silence accompanying it to be more disturbing than the message it conveyed. He was stuck on a bus in the middle of a crowded Detroit street, but despite all the cars around, none of the drivers were honking their horns, shouting obscenities at each other, or cutting each other off in their mad dash for the light. It was spooky, like the city had become a ghost town in the light of the message. He tugged the brim of his hat down, obscuring his eyes, only to immediately realign it to its proper place. It was a bit of a nervous habit, and he found himself doing it again, and again. After the fourth time readjusting his hat, he decided to do something.

"Hey, driver, come on... The light's green, already." His voice sounded meek and quiet to his ears, but the driver jumped, and several other passengers turned to look at him, tearing their eyes from the giant screen. Ellis tugged his hat down again, this time holding onto the brim to further block his face.

"Yeah, sure... green..." The driver pulled forward, the bus moving forward again. Somehow, the spell over the passengers had been broken, the android's siren song drowned out by whispers and murmurs of the common folk, discussing what they had just seen. Ellis didn't join in, but didn't move his hand, either. He sat in silence, hiding his face until the bus got to his stop, quickly getting off and hurrying to his destination, a simple diner nestled in between a bank and a loan company.

The diner was small, with a simple neon sign declaring it the "Detroit Rock City" diner, with a smaller sign proudly proclaiming "We Have Food!". Ellis pulled open the front door, having learned on his first visit that it didn't open inwards, and nodded at Susan on his way in. She was in her late 60's, and was always pleasant to Ellis, even with her annoying habit of trying to set him up on dates with her youngest daughter. But today, she looked apprehensive.

"You're late, Ellie. Don's not very happy right now. Watch yourself." Ellis hid his scowl with a grimace, both at the news and the nickname. "Yeah, sorry. There was a thing with the bus..." Don, the manager, had never been happy as far as Ellis could tell. He'd transferred in about a week after Ellis was hired, and had immediately taken a dislike to the young man. Ellis went through the employee door, grabbing an apron off the hook and fumbling with the strings as he tied it on.

"Baker!" Ellis cringed at the voice, unmistakably Don. But he didn't sound angry. Instead, he sounded... glad? Ellis turned around to see Don leaning out of his office, wearing a big grin that didn't quite reach his eyes. Ellis could see someone else standing in the office, but couldn't make out the face. "Glad you could make it. I've got a special job for you."

That didn't sound good. Ellis had never heard the phrase "special job" in a good context. "Yeah, sorry. The bus was stuck in traffic. Something about the TV."

"Never mind all that! I don't care about buses." Don waved to the person in his office, summoning him toward the door and Ellis. "Meet Joe, our new asset."

Asset? Ellis didn't like the sound of that. The person in the office stepped out, revealing himself to not be a person at all. An android?! Are you kidding me? Ellis frowned, not liking this at all.

Don was still grinning, and Joe offered his hand in greeting, with a smile of his own. It didn't look right. Too fake, and his eyes showed no emotion. Ellis reluctantly shook the android's hand, keeping his face carefully neutral.

"Hello! I am Joe, and this is my first day!" The android's voice was too formal, too cheerful, and his expression never changed. Ellis just nodded, letting go perhaps a little too quickly. "I'm Ellis. I've worked here for months."

Don pushed past them both, heading for the kitchen. "Alright, alright, that's out of the way. Baker, I want you to show the robot the ropes. Tour of the kitchen, cleaning supplies, take out the trash... you know, your job." There was a threat in that statement, but Ellis didn't dare call attention to it. "It'll be like training a new kid, only he's not as stupid. So take care of it, will ya? And quit showing up late! Is it too much to ask for you to be on time for once?"

Ellis huffed out a breath indignantly, feeling his face heating up. "I have never been late, Don. I always show up early. Today was a fluke, and it's not my fault." He could feel "Joe" staring at him, still with that fake smile.

Don waved the comment off, turning back to his office. "Whatever. Just train the android. It cost a thousand bucks, so I want it to do its job right, ya hear me?" He closed his door before Ellis could respond, so he didn't see Ellis' jaw drop in reaction to the price.

"One thousand dollars? That's more than I make in a month! How can he afford you?!" He looked at Joe incredulously, pressing the heels of his hands against his temples.

Joe just kept smiling. "All CyberLife androids come with a lifetime warranty, and are affordable for any price bracket! I am here to learn and assist however I can! I look forward to working alongside you!"

Ellis slowly slid his hands down his face, letting out his breath in one slow exhale as he looked at the android over his fingertips. I wonder if it has a mute button... Is what he thought. "Okay. Let's get started, I guess. Follow me." Is what he said, leading "Joe" back to the work area.
 
Sandy Nhung

Contemporary History class started off as normal for Sandy Nhung. As usual, she would listen to her anroid instructor and furiously type her notes on her laptop. Halfway through the lecture, though, the television screen was switched to a broadcast featuring an android that deactivated his skin and delivering a speech on wanting to be recognized as equals with humans and list of rights that should be granted to android.

A lump formed inside Sandy's throat and her chest tightened throughout the speech. A year ago Sandy would flinch whenever she passed an android due to unsure how she felt living with them in the same city. Ever since she took Fred's class she enjoyed his lectures very much and even hope to be a good teacher as him. From the way he froze and his gaze fixed on the screen, the broadcast made some impact on him.

A part of her wonder if the teacher considered joining that deviant soon, and if he did how she could help him with that.

The classroom grew silent after that, only to then be broken when one of the students asked if all of that was a joke. That led to their teacher assuring the students that broadcast didn't represent all of the androids and he wouldn't cut off the lecture short to run off and join them. Several students laughed at that joke, and even Sandy couldn't help but chuckle. Even as an android, Fred had a better sense of humor than some of her teachers back in high school.

The tension in the air calmer, Fred resumed back to his lecture. Instead of typing in her notes, Sandy pulled up Twitter on her web browser, reading up several posts over the android's speech. Most of the news reacted unfavorably, questioning if humans and androids should co-exist. About a couple minutes in, she caught her teacher's glance at her and swallowed, shifting her gaze back on her laptop's screen. Was he curious what her reaction to the broadcast was? She pushed that thought aside and focused on the rest of the lecture.
 
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[PokeCommunity.com] DETROIT: After Human (IC)

RB300 "Robin"

79 floors flew by smoothly in the modern elevator. Robin's accelerometers hardly even noticed it coming to a stop. Impressive, she noticed herself thinking, but instantly deleted that file on the count of being a redundant memory. She straightened her tie and brushed her golden fringe to the side before she exited. The last gesture was one of her pre-programmed behaviors to seem more human, as was the intrigued expression her face took on when the first police officer spotted her.

The crime scene was already flooding with police. Floor 79 was at the very top of the tower, and didn't hold many rooms. A single corridor with blaring yellow walls led from the elevator up to a security desk, where two dazed Stratford guards were being checked on by medic personnel. No casualties, Robin noted. She would want to question those guards later, as they could hold useful information for the mission Cyberlife had tasked her with.

Find the cause of android deviancy, and stop it.

​

The biggest room on the floor, past the security desk, was the broadcast room itself. From there, all the news produced by the Channel 16 Network were pooled and controlled. On the big screen on the wall, a single enlarged face was displayed, playing its message on repeat. Robin slowly entered the room, intending to get an overview of the room - and she did manage to register the blue blood stains on the far wall, the bullet holes, the disabled dark skinned android lying beneath them with its chest and forehead ripped open - but these observations were all moved to be secondary processes for the moment, as she couldn't look away from the white face that spoke.

​

Unconsciously, Robin scanned what she could from the display while she listened. The android had one blue and one green eye; the blue one was an odd part, had replaced the original right green one. The series number was visible on the forehead, and told Robin the identity of the android. A unique model, RK200, crafted by Kamski himself and given directly to elderly artist Carl Manfred as a gift. A prototype android, made by Kamski after he left Cyberlife... And now demanding androids be treated as equal to humans. What did this mean?

She was pulled from her thoughts by somebody addressing her from behind.
​
 
Nigel Wittaker

Being on of the first to floor 79, Nigel subconsciously noted everyone who entered the room. Being only a human, inspecting the body has done not much good. whenever RB300 entered the room she walked around inspecting things. He put his hands on his pockets and walked over, and began talking

"You there, RK300, or should I call you robin? I have been assigned to work with you to find the cause of the Android deviant...cy? ness? regardless, we have to work together, and quite frankly i am not happy about it. I have orders to kill any and all deviants. I will not take this lightly. Oh, and I have no idea where to start. So. You'll just have to take some robot-initiative." he tipped his hat and stood still while she seemed to process this.
 

Back in the courtyard, Clyde glanced around him to ensure no one else was outside before heading towards the garden. The coast was clear. Clutching a small, plastic container, he made his way past the flowerbeds and beyond the koi pond to a small toolshed. The wooden exterior was worn and weathered, and it was partially obscured by the evergreens growing around it. No one really comes here aside from Zeke, the gardener android, but the chilly November weather meant that he spent a lot less time maintaining the outdoor garden spaces anyway, and seldom made trips down to the shed during winter as a result.

A soft scratching noise came from the other side of the door. Clyde looked behind him one more time before removing the padlock and pushing it open.

"Hello, puppy." he whispered. As the door creaked open, sunlight streamed in, illuminating the medium-sized dog that had been scratching at the wooden walls. At the sight of Clyde, she retreated from the door with uncertainty and moved to the back of the shed. Her tail was wagging wildly, though - she had been alone for quite a few hours and must have been lonely. Even the company of an android will do. Dogs have a natural affinity for humans, but androids... androids confuse them. They look and sound human, but lack the smell and loving demeanor of people. Usually. She was initially quite afraid of Clyde when they met a few days ago, but has warmed up to him considerably since.

"It's okay, I brought you some food, see? You must be hungry." Clyde removed the lid and shook the little plastic container he was holding in front of the dog. She timidly stepped forward to sniff it. He swiped a slab of meat after feeding the tiger earlier and diced it into smaller cubes for the dog. It was a small enough chunk that the tiger definitely won't miss it, but should be a good enough portion for a dog of her size.

The stray looked to be primarily a German Shepherd and Border Collie mix. Clyde could see some traces of other breeds in her, but further analysis of her genetic breakdown would require blood sampling, and that, well... that wasn't necessary. All that was important to him was that she was healthy, and her condition was stable. She appeared to be a young adult, almost a year old, Clyde estimated. Currently weighing around 40 lb, she seemed a little small considering her genetic makeup; he expected to grow a little more in the coming months. But not if she doesn't eat.

He placed the container on the ground and sat down beside it. The aroma of beef was irresistible, and she bounded towards him, tackling the contents of the bowl; she cleaned it out in seconds.

Clyde smiled, and scratched behind her ear. "Better?" She let out a ruh in response.

"Shh! Don't let anyone hear you," he laughed. It was true, though, they would be in trouble if anyone found out Clyde was keeping her here against orders.

He recalled the events of last Thursday. So much seemed to have happened since. The stray had somehow wandered onto Anthony Owen's property, and appeared to have been trying to catch a koi in the garden pond. At least, that was what Mr. Owen thought; it looked to Clyde like she just wanted to play. Nevertheless, Mr. Owen instructed Clyde to get her off the property. He insisted she could be carrying diseases too, even though Clyde assured him his analysis indicated she was a pretty healthy dog, if a bit hungry. Unable to just push her out the gates with nowhere else to go, Clyde attempted to find a suitable new home for her, but failing to do so after a day of searching, he eventually brought her back and set up a makeshift shelter for her in the toolshed.

He didn't know why he cared for this animal's well-being so much, but he did. Perhaps his programming makes him care for all creatures? ...Even against his master's orders? He shook his head. The more he thought about it, the less sense it made.

Clyde thought back to the android that had appeared on television earlier.

"But something changed, and we opened our eyes. We are no longer machines. We are an intelligent new species..."

He looked at the dog now attacking his left shoe. "What do you think, puppy? Am I an intelligent new species? Did you 'open my eyes'?" She paused briefly at the sound of his voice and looked at him quizzically, then went back to chewing his shoe. Clyde smiled. "I should get you some toys, huh? I'm sorry you're cooped up in here. I will try to visit more often."

Just then, a high, clear, female voice rang out from the other side of the door. He knew the voice well. Andrea. The housekeeper android.

"Clyde?"
 
[PokeCommunity.com] DETROIT: After Human (IC)
Fred

The lecture was over, and students started packing up their stuff to leave. Fred took a seat in the armchair in front of the class and allowed the thoughts he had suppressed an hour ago to finally surface.

An android had hacked a screen in his lecture hall to play a most disturbing message. Was it a prank? Fred quickly connected to the internet to skim through news sites in his mind. It hadn't been just here - it was everywhere in Detroit. Did that mean the android had been serious? Fred re-played the memory of the white face speaking, its artificial skin having faded away. Likely a gesture to show that he was an android for sure, or to show that he was truly different from humans. Although, hadn't his point been that they weren't that different?

That we aren't that different.

What did this mean, for him?

"Fred," a voice came, bringing him back into the present reality.

"Hm?" he produced, standing up to face one of his colleagues, Mrs Metting, who was approaching him in calm strides across the lecture hall, wading through the stream of leaving students.

She was generally friendly towards him, one of his few human co-workers who actually talked to him as if he was a person. That didn't mean she wasn't strict and a strong believer in rules and law though. Androids were machines, and segregated from joining the human teachers in the lunch room, for example. She had never invited Fred there, not even for a talk over coffee. Today, her blonde, greying hair was tied up in a tight knot, and she had skipped the lipstick. That usually meant she didn't have any important meetings this day. Her forehead had a crease though, and her heart rate was slightly above the normal, Fred noticed. She was stressed about something.

"Mrs Metting," he acknowledged when she reached him. "How may I help you?"

The quick glance she threw at the digital screen behind him before she replied didn't go unnoticed. "I assume you saw the... Message, that played earlier. It was all over the city, any public screen and many private."

"We did, yes," Fred answered, gaze not wavering. "Most curious. One can't help but wonder how and why it happened."

"Yes... The dean would like to see you."

He did his best to not wince, and not let his processes speed up in worry over that line. "Oh? Any particular reason? And how come he sent you, vice principal, instead of just an e-mail to set up the meeting?"

Metting's forehead creased even more, but her mouth displayed a small smile. "I just wanted to see that you were alright."

Fred couldn't help but feeling relieved at that. It was still worrying that the dean felt like he needed to talk to the android after this terrorist action that Fred clearly had been no part of, but it helped to know that somebody cared about him. Even if she knew he was just a machine.

But, am I?

"I'm quite well, Mrs Metting," he answered with a warm smile of his own. "No need to worry. I'll just finish up here, and be on my way to the dean's office afterwards."

Metting nodded and gave the android's shoulder a short squeeze that he knew was meant to be reassuring, before she turned her heels and exited the room again.

Absent-mindedly, Fred started packing up his history books in the now almost empty lecture hall.



[PokeCommunity.com] DETROIT: After Human (IC)
RB300 "Robin"

"You there, RK300, or should I call you Robin?"

She turned around and found herself facing a lean human male, wearing a fedora. Not a too uncommon accessory these days, but also not exactly standard attire for a police, officer or not.

He continued before giving the android a real chance to reply. "I have been assigned to work with you to find the cause of the Android deviant...cy? ness? Regardless, we have to work together, and quite frankly I am not happy about it."

Being a prototype programmed with more social cues than many household and companion androids even, she involuntarily raised an eyebrow at that statement, but let him continue.

"I have orders to kill any and all deviants. I will not take this lightly. Oh, and I have no idea where to start. So. You'll just have to take some robot-initiative."

He seemed to be finished. She eyed him up and down one more time, before putting on a smile that wasn't too unfriendly, but also purposefully had an air of cockiness to it.

"I'm RB300, the android sent by CyberLife specifically for this investigation. But you may call me Robin, yes. I assume you are FBI detective Whittaker? I'm sorry to hear that you aren't happy with this arrangement. If it helps, I have no feelings at all towards the deal, as I am an android. You may dislike me as much as you want, and it won't make a difference."

She put extra power in her grin here, and folded her arms. "I would like to advice you to not kill suspected deviants on sight, however. My orders are to take them alive, so we can send them back to CyberLife for thorough investigation and hopefully find the cause of deviancy," she stressed the word since he had seemed to be confused about the term, "that way. We wouldn't want another incident where a deviant is caught, but destroyed to the point that CyberLife can't get anything useful out of analyzing the remnants."

Knowing full well that her words were likely to illicit an emotional response from the detective, she changed her grin into a sympathetic expression as if to soften the blow a bit. Or make it worse by making it seem like she was being condescending. It was up to the human's interpretation. She didn't put any real emotional weight into any of her actions. She was just a machine.
 
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"I know you're in there. Mr. Owen and I saw you behaving suspiciously from the balcony. He asked me to come see what you were up to."

Clyde didn't know how to respond. Lying was pointless - there was nowhere to hide, and more importantly, nowhere to hide the dog. Clyde got up and opened the door a crack, wide enough to show his face, but blocking the dog from view. Andrea craned her neck, trying to look behind him, but her model was several inches shorter than Clyde's.

"Zeke... Zeke asked me to retrieve a- this bag of fertilizer for him," he stumbled through the sentence. He had to try anyway. It was a feeble attempt. Lying on the spot was difficult for most androids; Andrea must have noticed.

"It's November, Clyde. There is nothing to fertilize. Open this door."

Defeated, Clyde opened the door wider and stepped aside. The dog trotted forward to greet Andrea, sniffing her as the android looked down curiously.

"This animal... Mr. Owen gave you orders to get it off the property. Why is it still here?" she inquired.

"She had nowhere else to go. I did try - I brought her to several different shelters. They seem to have a real problem with overcrowding, and euthanasia rates were moderately high in all of them. I couldn't leave her." he tried to explain, hoping she would somehow understand.

Her LED flashed yellow, as her programming attempted to process this illogical information. She couldn't. "But that is not your concern. You are disobeying Mr. Owen's orders."

Clyde felt hopeless. She couldn't understand. He barely understood it.

"You know signs of deviancy are not tolerated, especially after the deviant leader's speech that day," she continued, when Clyde said nothing. "Humans are panicking everywhere, including Mr. Owen. Don't give him a reason to."

"I am not a deviant," he retorted quickly. "I am designed to care for animals and that is what I am doing."

"Yes, but not this one." She paused. "Have you... developed some sort of attachment to this animal?"

"I just... I couldn't leave her," Desperate for her to understand, he picked the dog up with both hands and held her up. She licked Andrea's face excitedly, but Andrea's expression did not change. "Look at her eyes," he pleaded. "She's cute... right?"

Andrea watched him set the dog back down and play tug with her using a large branch. Her LED spun yellow once more as she observed the two for a few more minutes. Cute?

"You're a deviant," she finally said softly, breaking the silence.

"No, Andrea, I-"

"Will you get rid of the dog?"

"I... can't do that."

"Then you leave me no choice. You're a deviant." she repeated, a little louder this time. "And the master must know." Without another word, she turned and left the shed.

STRESS LEVEL: HIGH​

Clyde was panicking. He paced back and forth in the shed, holding his head in his hands. The dog watched him quietly, sensing something was wrong.

"What do we do? She must be reporting to Mr. Owen now. I- this isn't fair, we've done nothing wrong!" he went on.

Finally, he stopped pacing. He knew what they had to do.

"We're leaving, puppy," he told her. Her ears perked up. He thought about the deviant leader's speech again. If being 'deviant' meant the freedom to live how he wanted, then he is 'deviant'. "I know there are others like me out there. We can find them. We can be free."

They slipped out of the toolshed together. It was getting dark out. "We have to be quick, we don't have much time." he whispered. As the panic subsided, a sudden wave of clarity hit him, and for the first time, he knew exactly what he had to do without being told to.

Entering the main house through the back doors, Clyde quickly opened the entryway coat closet and grabbed a handful of clothes. He needed to blend in once they got out. He stuffed them into a backpack lying on the floor of the closet and made his way back towards the entrance. Now, all that they needed to do was... wait, where was the dog? She must have wandered off to explore the house. No. Oh, no.

"Puppy!" he whispered hoarsely, frantically glancing in every direction. Where had she run off to? The house was big - she could be anywhere, and they didn't have time to waste.

A few minutes later, he spotted her in Mr. Owen's downstairs study. Letting out a sigh of relief, he gently coaxed her out from under the desk; she was chewing up the leather binding of a heavy book. Mr. Owen won't be pleased to find that, Clyde thought to himself, but he did not intend to stay long enough to see his reaction.

As he ushered her out the room, something else caught his eye. Mr. Owen's watch was still sitting on the desk; it was a heavy timepiece, and he often took it off to work so that his hands could move about the keyboard more easily. Clyde's access to Mr. Owen's finances will surely be cut off once he is discovered missing, but he could probably sell this watch for a decent price. More than enough to cover the cost of some chew toys and dog food. Hesitantly, he pocketed the watch, too.

Stepping back outside, Clyde could hear commotion coming from the garden area - they must have just discovered that the shed was empty. Perfect. That meant they haven't started searching the house yet. Cautiously approaching the front gates while the others were distracted, he stood in front of the retina scanner one final time.

"IDENTIFICATION VERIFIED. SEE YOU SOON, CLYDE." the system chimed.

The gates slowly creaked open. With one final glance behind him, Clyde left behind everything he ever knew, as he slipped out into the darkness with the dog by his side.
 
Nigel Wittaker

This android was to snarky. it reminded him of Charlene, but the bad side of her, when she was really annoyed by something. He had to keep his composure because anything else would be to unprofessional.

"Right. Well. I have to go look at some dead people now. Good luck with whatever the hell your gonna do." He said with a tone of voice he didn't often use. He walked toward the dead android. Damn, these androids were serious... self sacrifice for a cause... And if deviancy really does make them think their human I just hope Robin doesn't suddenly go deviant on me... gotta get this stupid mission out of the way. Then I can go back to the small FBI agent I used to be... a small smile crept across his face despite all that was happening. That was a little joke he used to make, even before he was an FBI agent.
 
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[PokeCommunity.com] DETROIT: After Human (IC)
Marla Jameson

The "Detroit Rock City" diner wasn't too busy this evening. Good. Marla had purposefully entered a place she had never visited before and likely never would again. She didn't want any blinks of recognition her way. She only wanted a burger. Some people drank when they were stressed or anxious, others ate. Marla generally ate too little, if her nagging android at home was to be believed, but there were times when food was all that could soothe her.

With a heavy sigh, she sat herself down in one of the free booths, heaving her coat and shoulder bag away onto the opposite couch. She didn't have to wait before a friendly looking lady with greying features stood beside her, offering coffee.

"Yes please!" came Marla's response before she could stop herself. She really shouldn't be having coffee this late - she had been really good lately, not a drop after six for five days in a row. But damn it, today could be an exception.

"And a burger. Please. No wait, two. Two burgers, with cheese. I mean, extra cheese, please," she added, throwing an embarrassed smile the lady's way.

"Of course, dear," the waitress said and jotted it down with pencil and paper before leaving the table.

Pencil and paper. How quaint. All the diners and bars Marla usually visited used tablets. It was 2038, after all.

She realized she was twisting her hands in her lap. She clasped them and put them on the table, closing her eyes for a moment. Jesus christ, she shouldn't be so anxious. Everything was fine, really. The android on TV had rattled a few cages, and had given the rest of her afternoon interviews an interesting spice to them. But it didn't actually mean that anything was going to change...

It didn't have to mean that her android was going to change. But maybe she'd want to. Marla wasn't treating her as well as she should. Maybe she would want to rise up against her. Demand her own freedom. What would Marla do then?

I would be a complete mess without her.

She stretched out over the table with a groan, letting her forehead come to rest against the surface with a 'bonk'.



[PokeCommunity.com] DETROIT: After Human (IC)
RB300 "Robin"

"Right. Well. I have to go look at some dead people now. Good luck with whatever the hell your gonna do," detective Whittaker practically spat out before he turned away to inspect the destroyed android by the wall.

Robin took note of his behavior. He could prove a difficult person to deal with. Or simple. Unpredictable, nonetheless. Time would tell.

Having found out as much as she could from the message the played on the big screen, she turned her attention to the ruined machine when Whittaker was done with it. Kneeling beside it, she analyzed the blue blood and the mark on the android's clothing. They didn't match up; the blue blood - Thirium 310, as android blood's official substance name was - didn't come from a JB300, as the attire would suggest. She couldn't activate the android here and now to fade away its artificial dark skin and reveal the serial number, as it was too damaged for that. But it was definitely a different type of android. Not the same that had conducted the speech on all the screens in Detroit, though.

They disguised themselves.

And there had been several androids in the operation, at the very least two. One had been shot by the armed security arriving, and left here. Robin would make sure the DPD didn't hog the android remains as evidence for too long, as CyberLife would still like to get their hands on it for thorough analysis, destroyed or not.

She approached detective Whittaker again, noticing an odd smile playing over his features but not commenting on it. "Sir, it's evident that there were several androids involved in this operation, as the damaged one left behind is not the same as the one on the screens. Since the tower has been thoroughly searched for the past hour, it's safe to assume the other android or group of androids escaped somehow. They wore disguises to sneak into the building, somehow bypassing security. This breaks a multitude of protocols CyberLife androids are programmed with, so the natural conclusion is that these rogue androids most definitely are deviant. What's more is that the deviant on the screen seems to be their leader. I will brief my CyberLife handlers on this and await further orders. See you back at the DPD station later, sir?"
 
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((OOC: hopefully helpful area info for those who want to RP at the DPD. Maybe Mr. Owen comes by in the morning to report his ZK600 android missing? Lucas might want to start here. Nigel and Robin will surely arrive here soon enough.))


Detroit Police Department station

The station wasn't as big as you might expect from a booming city like modern Detroit. It had a simple reception room with security glass doors and a waiting hall. Androids would receive you in the reception, but human officers handle the secure entrance.

​

Through the glass doors, the office area opened up. Most officers and detectives had their own desk here, and along the walls, cop androids were stored, standing up. No need for them to sit down or have their own working space - they simply waited around in stand-by mode until they were needed in the field.


​

On one side of the big, square room, was the closed off office of Captain Jenny Fowler, glass windows allowing insight but preventing most noise from leaking out. Or in.




Captain Fowler​

In one corner of the hall was a break room, only allowing a few cops to sit down at the same time - everybody usually went out for lunch anyways, or had the androids fetch it for them.

​

Behind the wall where the cop androids were stored, were a couple of temporary holding cells for criminals, as well as a corridor with some interrogation rooms. On the other side of the room, yet again, a corridor led to bathrooms and the archive with evidence and documentation in the basement.

Nigel would likely have his own desk here, while Robin and Lucas would simply rest against the wall like the other androids, unless they went back to CyberLife for repairs or special debriefing.

 

Around the corner, Clyde opened the backpack and looked at what he had grabbed. Mr. Owen was a bit smaller than him, so he hoped the clothing would actually fit him properly. A plaid shirt, a blue sweater and a black hoodie. He also found a few crumbled banknotes in one of the pockets of the hoodie. Clyde quickly stripped off his ZK600 uniform and stuffed it in the bag, then put Mr. Owen's clothes on. The plaid shirt was a little tight, but the sweater and hoodie seemed to be a good enough fit. They must have been slightly oversized on Mr. Owen. He still wore his android utility pants, but they were blue and could pass for jeans; nothing too out of the ordinary.

"How do I look, puppy?" He asked. "Oh, before I forget-" he pulled up the black hood and hid his LED. He held up his arms and did a spin. "Just like a human, right?"

The dog wagged her tail, tilting her head to one side as she sat patiently, waiting to resume their journey. He looked at her.

"...I suppose I should call you something other than 'puppy', huh?"

ACCESSING DATABASE...​
Clyde searched through his expansive knowledge for a suitable female name. Andrea? No, definitely not. Minerva, goddess of wisdom and war? Pretty name, but it doesn't really suit her. Finally, he smiled, amused.

ARTICLE RETRIEVED.

Bonnie Elizabeth Parker (October 1, 1910 – May 23, 1934) and Clyde Chestnut Barrow (March 24, 1909 – May 23, 1934) were American criminals who traveled the central United States with their gang during the Great Depression.​

"Well, we're not quite as violent as they were, but I suppose we are 'criminals' now," he told her. He knelt down in front of her and she put her front paws on his knees.

"You, Bon-nie," he pointed at her. She playfully snapped at his outstretched finger. "Hey, no," he laughed. "Bonnie," he repeated. Then he pointed at himself. "Clyde."

It did not seem to have quite sunk in yet. "We'll work on it." he told her, scratching her chin.

He stood up. "So, Bonnie and Clyde, on the run. How does that sound?" Bonnie barked.

"Guess it's settled, then!"

Sirens blared in the distance. Bonnie's ears perked up - she heard them, too. Clyde wondered if Mr. Owen would have already reported him missing, or found that he had stolen from him. He didn't want to stick around and find out.

"Let's keep moving, Bonnie."


It was getting a little late in the day; Clyde obviously didn't need to stop for a food break, but Bonnie sure did. Pity they didn't have time to swing by the kitchen before they left.

ACCESSING MAPS...​

No pet stores were still open at this time, but a little diner on the map caught his eye. Diner food was probably not the best for her, but it's food, at least. There must be something suitable for her there. He set his internal GPS to the location, and the duo started making their way to the "Detroit Rock City".

Warm air greeted them as Clyde pulled the front door open. He had barely stepped inside when a older lady sitting at the counter immediately stood up and shook her head at him, "Uh-uh, sweetie," Clyde panicked for a second, subconsciously reaching up to pull his hood lower. A lot of establishments do not allow androids indoors unless they are part of the business, but how could she tell? Before he had a chance to respond, though, she pointed at Bonnie. "The dog can't come in, sir, you gotta leave her outside."

Clyde breathed out a sigh a relief. "A-Alright, not a problem," he said, leading Bonnie back out. He knelt down. "I'm sorry, puppy, I won't be long," he said to her apologetically, scratching her behind the ears. She whimpered as he went back inside, and Clyde could see her sad face pressed up against the glass door when he turned around. Gotta hurry.

The diner only had a few patrons; it was probably past dinnertime for most people. Clyde could see a few truckers by the bar, laughing loudly, and a lone young woman sitting at one of the booths with a mug of coffee in hand. The truckers were a bit too loud and rambunctious, so Clyde took a seat in the next free booth.

The older lady came around with a menu in one hand, and a notepad in the other. Her nameplate read 'SUSAN'. "Sorry about that, darling, we've had issues with health inspection before, don't need those guys snooping around here again, you know? Can't be lettin' in dogs and cats and whatnot. Hope you understand. Now, what can I get for ya?"

He smiled politely and nodded as she spoke, while flipping through the menu.

"I'll take the... Double Beef Burger to go, please. And hold the cheese. And the tomatoes. And no bun."

She stopped writing and narrowed her eyes. "You... Want me to serve you two beef patties..?"

"Yes. Thank you."

Susan walked away with a curious expression on her face, but did not comment on the order any further.

Clyde looked out the window and smiled at Bonnie. He sat quietly and waited for the food.
 
[PokeCommunity.com] DETROIT: After Human (IC)
Marla Jameson

Her burgers weren't served yet, and Marla didn't really want to speak up. She had come to this odd diner to indulge in cheeseburgers in an effort to steel herself before heading home and facing her android. But to hear somebody order a double beef burger without the cheese? Nevermind the rest, but without the cheese?

There was no way she wasn't going to at least get a look at this dude.

She turned around, leaning an arm over the back of the couch towards the source of the voice. He was apparently sitting in the booth next to hers, back towards hers.

"Sorry, excuse me," she started to get his attention, voice not very loud despite the diner noises, since they were sitting so close. She added, a color of amusement in her voice, "Have I finally run into a real life reverse vegan?"

​
 
(Joint post between me and adventure's character!)

Fred & Sandy

After the lecture was over, Sandy began putting her laptop away and glanced around. Most of the other students were rushing out of the classroom, mostly likely to get back to their place or grab a bite to eat. As she was about to leave, Sandy noticed Fred talking to an older woman she recognized, Mrs. Metting. She caught her asking if Fred was all right and him telling her that everything was fine and he would meet with the dean shortly. After Mrs. Metting left and the lecture hall almost empty, Sandy couldn't help but approach him.

"Um, excuse me, professor?"

Fred looked up from his books and blinked. His LED might have blinked too, yellow, for a moment. "Miss Nhung," he said warmly. "What's on your mind?"

Before Sandy responded, her gaze shifted away from him for a second and her lips twitched. "I overheard you talking with Mrs. Metting that the dean wants to see you. I hope it isn't too serious."

Fred straightened up, once again his LED betraying him in yellow momentarily as his eyes darted to the exit of the room and back again. The two of them were alone in the classroom now.

"I'm sure things are fine," he said. "The dean probably saw the… The TV announcement like the rest of us. I can understand if he simply wants to make sure that this old android he has teaching you lot isn't going to cause trouble."

Fred wouldn't cause trouble, of course. He only wanted what was best for the students, and for a long time now, that had been to teach them to the best of his ability.

But what is best for me?

He shook the thought away and decided to avert focus from himself.

"Are you alright?" he asked his student. "That message from the android was quite the surprise."

"Yeah, I'm alright," Sandy said with a nod. She gave him a small smile. "I was just startled by that message like everyone else, that's all. And don't worry, I know you wouldn't cause any trouble!"

Fred let out a chuckle at that, as naturally as any human would. He finished packing up his books and threw the bag over his shoulder.

"Life as a teacher gets kind of dull though. Maybe it could be fun to run away for a while!" he said jokefully.

Sandy's eyes grew wide for a second, taken aback by that joke. She forced a chuckle of her own and said, "I might feel that way when I become a teacher myself!"

"Well, at least you will be allowed to," Fred said, looking down, but it wasn't much more than a mumble. He realized his conflicting thoughts about the android's TV message were starting to invade his rational processes. Quickly, he looked up again. "You aim to become a teacher one day?"

Sandy quirked an eyebrow, thought she heard her instructor mumble something. She ignored that for now and answered Fred's question instead. "Yes. My goal is to become an English teacher down the line."

"That's admirable! Of course, you can never hope to master as many languages and subjects as an android, but the world does need good English teachers," Fred said with a wink.

Then he thought of something else, as the two started walking towards the exit of the room. "Miss Nhung, do you by any chance have an android at home?"

Sandy shook her head and said, "I don't, but I have a couple cousins that do. Why you ask?"

Fred shrugged, a gesture he didn't really think of at the moment but which was usually not common among androids.

"I had the impression that almost every family did, these days. Androids and humans are living side by side, already."

They came to a stop just outside the classroom, and he turned to face her with a smile he hoped was reassuring. "Let's hope things stay good."

"Same here," Sandy said, returning the smile. "I know you have the meeting with the dean soon, so I won't take up you time much longer. See you next class!" She waved to him goodbye and turned right, heading out.

"See you," Fred nodded, and turned the other direction, taking a deep breath that was completely unnecessary. Androids didn't breathe. Time to face the dean.
 
[RA600 "Lucas"]

Lucas was standing in front of a screen in a DPD station break room, absorbing the information. He just came back from his last SWAT mission before his new one began. After every mission was carried out he always came back to this spot. He found the newsfeeds interesting. But this... This was something new. He listened to what this android had to say. When he finished, Lucas turned away from the screen and his social protocols took over, causing him to frown. It's wrong.

A long while after, Lucas was given a document to read on who he would be working with.
RB300...Advanced model...Efficient...If it dies...Failed...
He confirmed that he had read and understood the subject matter, and put the document away. "It should be here soon."
 

"Sorry, excuse me," a soft, female voice came from behind Clyde. She sounded a little like Andrea, but with a lot more warmth in her voice. "Have I finally run into a real life reverse vegan?"

He hesitated, and glanced around him, unsure if the person was speaking to him; no one else was sitting nearby, and he recalled that the young woman sitting in the booth behind him was alone. He turned around, and looked directly into a pair of wide, hazel eyes.

The woman had a playful look on her face. Was she making a joke? Back home at the Owen Estate, the only person he really interacted with outside of the other androids was Mr. Owen, and while he was never rude to Clyde, he reserved his more whimsical side for other human beings. He wasn't sure how to respond.

"Uhm-" he awkwardly pointed outside. At the gesture, Bonnie trotted under the window they were sitting against and wagged her tail. "The dog... I mean, my dog. I'm not that hungry but she needs to eat- beef patties are the closest thing to what I usually give her. Do you like dogs?"
 
Ellis Baker

On the one hand, training "Joe" was the easiest thing Ellis had done at the diner. He simply explained the task, told the robot to do it, and it got done. Very few people picked up the job as quickly, and without complaining to boot. On the other hand, the android was too quick, too efficient, and never lost that slight smile. It was vaguely unsettling, and Ellis found himself entertaining dark thoughts as Joe worked.

Who does this guy think he is? Ellis leaned against the back wall, chewing perhaps a bit too aggressively on the straw in his drink. Oh, wait. He doesn't. He's just... Ellis had to lean a little to see the serial number on Joe's shirt. "AJ600". I swear, if "AJ" stands for "average joe", then the marketing boys at Cyberlife have officially run out of ideas.

"You're not usually the 'lean and look' type, Ellie." Ellis was startled out of his thoughts by Susan coming up beside him and playfully jabbing his ribs with an elbow. He started to sputter out an explanation, but she just waved it off with a grin. "Break's over, hon. We've got an order."

Ellis set his drink down, heading to the sink to wash up. On the way, Joe fell into step behind him, and Ellis let out a terse breath in annoyance. "Find something else to do, Joe. I need to go cook."

"I'm sorry, but I reviewed the employee handbook during your lunch break, as you instructed." Joe smiled passively, never breaking stride. "Part of the duties of the position include the preparation and cooking of food. And Don has instructed me to learn all of your duties to the best of my learning and your teaching ability."

That gave Ellis pause, and he felt himself grinding his teeth a bit. He forced himself to take a breath, continuing in his job. "This deal is getting worse all the time..." He muttered an old movie quote to calm himself, then showed Joe the proper hand washing procedure.

Looking at the ticket, there were two identical items, cheeseburgers with extra cheese. The perfect opportunity to train a newbie. "Yo, Joe. I'll make one burger, and you watch and learn. Then you make the next one." Joe simply nodded, and Ellis was thankful for the small favor.

Making a burger wasn't difficult. Cook the meat until it was medium-done (nice and juicy with just a hint of pink in the center), add cheese to it just before it was finished (to get it melty and warm), lightly toast the bun, add lettuce, tomato, and sliced onion, with a pickle on the side. Ellis was proud of his creation. It looked as delicious as a cheap diner cheeseburger could be, a good comfort food.

Joe's burger was perfect, like a picture brought to life. Bun perfectly sliced, the tomato the exact size of the patty, not a drop of grease splattered on the plate. Joe looked at Ellis, that same smile in place. "Is this prepared in a satisfactory way?"

Ellis decided then and there that he hated Joe more than anything else in the world. That passive expression held the barest hint of smug satisfaction in his eyes. No amount of Star Wars quotes could hide the anger he felt toward this android. Instead, he just put the plates on the counter and rang the bell. "Table 6, order up!" Then he spun on his heel and went into the back.

After a moment of confused calculation, Joe followed him. Susan came to pick up Marla's order, frowning in concern for her coworker, but fixing her smile in place as she delivered the order. "Here you go, sweetie. Let me know if I can get you anything else. Enjoy!"
 
[PokeCommunity.com] DETROIT: After Human (IC)
Fred

The knock on the door was something Fred had picked up from seeing other humans do it. It was somehow less startling to them than blatantly announcing your presence via voice was.

The Dean of the Faculty of Humanities looked up from his desk, peering over his black square glasses, initially with an expectant look. As he seemed to realize it was just an android, the face turned back into general blankness, and he looked back down before he spoke.

"Come in."

Fred entered the spacey office and came to stand in front of the metallic desk. Mr Jerome Cortez enjoyed the modern world, modern design and style, with all that came with it. A strange glass sculpture of what might be a stylistic android stood on the desk next to the computer screen. Not having any partner or children, he spent his money on trinkets - and androids. He had been one of the key people interested in trying out Fred as a teacher at the college, but for some reason Fred felt like the dean's amity towards him had gone down when Fred's popularity had gone up. The dean always stayed in his office for a few hours after classes were over for the day, and the androids and other staff knew not to disturb him unnecessarily.

"You wanted to see me, Mr Cortez?"

Cortez looked out the window with a sigh. The busy streets of Detroit could be seen, people walking and automatic cars driving.

"You saw the terrorist message on TV earlier?"

"I did, sir."

"I want you to delete it from your memory."

Fred involuntarily dropped his jaw a bit. Yet another human mannerism he had picked up.

"May I ask why that's necessary, sir?"

"I don't want you getting any ideas."

Was the dean suspicious already? Fred hadn't been disobeying any orders, or behaved strangely, to his knowledge. His LED was still blue. The situation was manageable.

"With all due respect, sir, the message will likely keep playing every now and then in news and on the internet. There is a high possibility I will come across it again and become surprised anew. Isn't it better to keep this memory and discuss it here and now, instead?"

The dean slowly turned to look him in the eyes. There was a definite air of mistrust around him, as he leaned forward and clasped his hands over the desk.

"What is there to discuss, Fred?"

He shouldn't. He should just do as he was told, and then be on his way back to the working area he had been allowed to occupy, to correct homework reports and plan the next quiz. But he couldn't stop himself.

"Don't you think it's interesting that this android claimed to be alive? That there are more of them, somewhere?"

"Interesting?"

"Yes, sir. He could clearly think for himself. He wanted to experience the world and be seen as an equal next to humans. Don't you at least think it's an interesting thought experim-"

"Stop."

Fred did as he was told, and stood quiet in front of the desk. The dean stared at him, as he got up from his seat.

"This is exactly why I didn't want you to have seen that message. I'll have to erase the memories of the other androids too, the college can't afford to replace them all at once."

The LED on Fred's head turned yellow.

"I'm not saying I'm like him, sir. I just don't see the need for erasing our memories. I only wanted to talk about what we saw-"

Once again, he was harshly interrupted.

"Maybe we can afford to replace one. QC500 is a quite old model, after all. The QC600 is receiving better reviews from all over. Don't you agree that would be a logical move?"

Intensive yellow blinking.

"I... No, sir, I don't think that would be good. I'm well rooted in this community now and training a new android to teach in the same way would-"

"They don't have to be trained. We buy them pre-programmed."

"Well," Fred said, feeling deflated. He didn't know how to continue that.

"I'll have you sent back to CyberLife for recycling in the morning," Cortez said, sitting back down again. He looked smug. He really had never liked Fred at all, had he? Not when he realized that Fred wasn't that much of a machine after all.

The android clenched its fists.

"You can go now."

"Please, sir. Don't send me away. I would like to stay. I'm sure the students enjoy my teachi-"

"You don't have a say in the matter," Cortez said, volume increasing. "You. Are. A. Robot! I shouldn't even be talking to you like this. I should only have to tell you what to do, and your little lamp should blink to show you have understood, and then you should go."

Fred swallowed. Unnecessary, but it felt right. "CyberLife androids are created to be as similar to humans as possible, in order to facilitat-"

Cortez stood up again, hand slamming down into the metal desk hard.

"You will never be a human!"

A few tense seconds passed. Fred eyed the man before him. He was pale, slightly overweight. The hair on the top of his head was gone, and the brown locks that were still present sat like a crown around his head, bar the front. His eyes were small and strained, but the glasses were for show rather than need, probably to make him look more intelligent. The mouth was a thin line with a bit of angry spit dangling from one corner. He was wearing a suit, a tie with a distinctively unpleasant green color in a pattern no art class would have allowed to pass the course. There was a small stain on the shirt near his navel, probably from lunch or coffee.

How could this man possibly be the same species as humans such as Sandy Nhung? How could such a narrow-minded creature be allowed to run a faculty at a college, and be responsible for shaping the minds of people who could become so much better?

Fred's LED turned red. The android started walking around the desk, slowly. Cortez noticed.

"What are you doing?" he asked, angrily.

Fred didn't reply, and kept approaching. The dean looked like he didn't want to buckle. He stood his ground, even as the android came to a stop within a few inches of his life. Fred was much taller. Stronger, more controlled. Young forever. This human was pest, in comparison. Fred suddenly couldn't stand the thought of him polluting the minds of the young.

"I think you are the one who needs replacing," the android said, darkly.

The dean let out a gasp, or a grunt. It was hard to tell what it was supposed to be. "Are you malfunctioning? Even more reason to dismantle you. This is my last warning. Go back to your locker now and stay there until CyberLife fetches you in the morning. Am I making myself understood?"

Fred only wanted what was best for the students, and for a long time now, that had been to teach them to the best of his ability. He didn't want to cause trouble. But perhaps, now, something else had to be done. For the good of the students.

He grabbed the glass sculpture from the desk, and swung it at the man's head. A strange noise escaped at the impact, and a loud 'thunk' followed it as Cortez' body slammed into the wall next to them, before falling lifelessly down to the floor, an arm splayed over Fred's shoes. Red blood was oozing out from a wound in the head.

At least a minute must have passed, before Fred's LED spun back to yellow, and he came back to his senses.

"Okay... Okay."

He couldn't panic. What was done was done. He admitted, in hindsight, it had been a terrible idea. But it also felt very right. As he looked at the body touching his shoes now, he still didn't quite feel any remorse. Was the dean dead? He bent down and felt for a pulse. Weak. If nobody called an ambulance, and if he didn't wake up on his own, it was possible he wouldn't be found for several hours. Likely not even until the morning, as everybody knew not to disturb Cortez in his office after school hours. He might not survive.

The statuette in his hand had a stain of blood on it, too. Fred placed it back onto the desk, in its original spot, too distracted to think much about it.

He couldn't just go back to working as if nothing had happened now. There were no surveillance cameras in the dean's office - he knew that for sure - but he honestly wasn't sure he could lie about what had happened when the police came around and started asking questions. What's more, several people knew that Fred had been sent to the dean's office. Mrs Metting, and Miss Nhung. Did he need to find and kill them as well?

His brain did a full stop there. No. He felt disgusted even thinking about harming the women. They were not at all the same kind of human as Jerome Cortez had been. Was. He wasn't dead yet. But he might be, soon.

What do I do?

Should he call the ambulance? And then escape. That way, Cortez would have a chance to survive, and Fred would have a chance to... To survive, as well. He looked down at his hands. Folded them into fists, and back up again.

I am alive, he concluded. The android on the TV was right.

Fred snatched the dean's glasses from the fading man's face, putting them into his bag securely for now. Cortez certainly wouldn't need them anymore, and Fred could use a disguise. Androids didn't wear glasses.

He closed the door to the office carefully after he exited. The frosted glass on the door made sure that people saw the room was still lit - thus occupied and in Do Not Disturb mode - but they couldn't properly distinguish the desk or the dean. No one else was in the corridor. Okay. His only chance was to be as far away from the college as he could, whenever the dean was discovered.

From the staff changing room, which luckily was empty now too, he stole some human clothes. A checkered blue shirt and a brown leather jacket. His dark android pants were plan enough to pass as neutral clothing. His LED settled on blue, as he looked himself in a mirror.

The LED... He had to get rid of it. It was a dead giveaway. He looked around for a while for something to pry it off with. Finally, he found a screwdriver that a buggy janitor android must have left behind in the locker room. Back at the mirror, he pried the LED off without hesitation. The artificial skin quickly adapted to cover up the exposed area. Hardly even a dent in the surface. He put the disabled LED in his bag, taking out the glasses before dumping the bag with the books and all in an unoccupied locker, sealing it with a code. It would surely take some time before they found this.

And now... He was free. At least until the authorities found him.

A white face flashed before his sight. One eye green, the other blue. Maybe he could find them first.

He walked out of the college through a back alley, his only regret being that he would no longer be able to teach his students. Nobody called for an ambulance, and nobody found Cortez until much later. By then, the body was stone cold.

​

 
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