wickedchouette | (no subject)

[ He doesn't notice at first. The purring is loud enough to melt him, and the warm feeling in his chest almost feels like he's malfunctioning. Maybe he is. This isn't normal, the -- well, feeling at all.

And then he feels like someone's watching him, and he pauses in nosing at the kitten to look up at Alfie. Almost guiltily, he pauses, and then pulls his hand away from the cat.

It stares up at Alfie, unsure. ]

[The cat chases his hand, batting at it playfully with a paw, claws retracted and safe. Alfie just... keeps staring for a few long moments, and then--]

Well. At least you're doing something.

[And he continues on into the living room.]

[ ... What kind of response is that? The android frowns, not sure what to do as the programming kicks in. Do what you like, Alfie had said. It doesn't know if it likes this. It feels kind of like overheating, but maybe that's what finding something it likes to do feels like.

For a moment, it'd felt... something. Anything. It'd felt like taking care of the kitten in its lap. It'd felt like a he.

The LED against its temple stays yellow, but it scoops the kitten up and holds her to its chest, staring after Alfie. ]

I... [ It starts, and then it goes quiet. This is all very confusing. ]

[The kitten settles against him, closing her eyes and purring like a motor. She is oblivious to any existential crises.]

[ It strokes the kitten's head very, very gently. Delicate. It sits on the floor in the corner of the kitchen and just spoils the hell out of the tiny creature for a good few hours - it doesn't really get bored, and it has nothing else to do until dinner time, so kitten-sitting it is.

When it approaches around six, Alfie will hear clattering coming from his kitchen. ]

[Alfie hears, all right, and he grumbles to himself - but for once, he doesn't complain or tell him to stop. He stays at his desk, working, listening to the kitchen clatter.]

[ After a while of that clattering, the android comes down the hall quietly, and stops at the doorway to the room Alfie is sitting in. The cat is still in its arms, sleeping. ]

I made dinner. [ It announces, careful. ] If you're hungry.

And you've let a cat into the flat.

[There's some level of annoyance in his voice, but it's perfunctory; mostly, he just sounds amused.]

Is that the same one from before?

[ A beat. It holds the cat a little more defensively against its chest. ]

Yes. Do you need me to get rid of her? [ It very clearly does not want to. ]

[The cat mews sleepily, kneading its arm with her front paws. Alfie snorts.]

I think if I did, you'd just bring her back in later.

[He does not sound entirely displeased about this idea.]

[ nnnnOOOO. The sleepy mew kickstarts something in the android and it actually has to take a second to slow the whirring processor inside it. It cares. It cares a lot.

Its voice is calm and even when it speaks, but it keeps the kitten very close and every bit of its body language is protective. ]

I wouldn't. I belong to you, and I have to follow your orders. If you're allergic to cats or didn't want one in the house, I--

[Alfie raises an eyebrow.]

Go on. You'd what?

[ A flash of yellow. ]

I'd put the cat outside. [ It says stubbornly. ]

Nah.

[Alfie shakes his head.]

Don't be silly. You keep it with you.

[ Something tense eases in its shoulders. There's a silence where it sort of struggles to re-calibrate. ]

... I made dinner. [ It says finally, and then, a little more quietly: ] Thank you.

You're welcome.

[If this were anyone else - if this were another human - Alfie wouldn't stand for it. A complete stranger who brought a cat into his house without permission would see the animal shooed out post-haste. In this situation, though... despite not wanting to inadvertently break the bot, he's still more interested in teasing out all the signs of sentience that he can.

Besides, he doesn't mind cats.]

I suppose it would fall on deaf ears if I told you there's no need to cook.

[Though if the bot had peeked into the trash at any point, he would have noticed a hell of a lot of empty takeout containers.]

It's my primary function to care for the house. Or apartment, as it were.

[ It scratches gently behind the cat's ears, and she purrs loudly enough for the whole room to hear her. ]

You need to eat more than Chinese takeout, Mr. Solomons. [ Sure did peek into his trash. Nosy bot. ] You didn't have much to work with, but I managed spaghetti.