Mechanical Perceptions
A/N: First story on this account. Yay! Slight hints of shoujo-ai. If you disagree with that, it's your problem, not mine. Don't flame me for being fair-minded. Anyway, enjoy!
Reclining catlike on an expensive, velvet, probably "inherited" couch, Evangeline A K McDowell yawned slightly, but with a grace that complemented her petite form, with its flowing blonde hair and piercingly beautiful malachite eyes. Her days were so...tedious. Idiotic mortals, wishing for everlasting life. They had no idea of what it was actually like. While she was no sentimental romantic, forever talking of the dreariness of her existence, it was absolutely true that most of her waking moments were occupied with observational thoughts of the mundane and mind-numbingly dull "life" she led. Being trapped forever in the body of a weak 10-year-old was possibly one of the most unbearable tortures that could ever be inflicted on a person. And being a pureblood vampire only added to her trials. She flattered herself that she was evil, the Dark Evangel, that she enjoyed the necessities of her state; but deep in some dark recess of a mind made endlessly old by continued existence, locked so deep down and in such an iron fortress that she had never even breached it herself, she knew that it was not true. Such crimes which lay on her small, delicate hands could, Evangeline believed, never be atoned for. Perhaps it was better that she let herself kill, like the being she was, and never answer to anyone. To sadistically torture, laughing with glee at her own darkness, to extend deaths long beyond their natural spans, to ruin families, without a care in the world, was the only way to survive this never-ending cycle of despair. Maybe she had believed that once, too.
But they had changed that. They...the Thousand Master: understanding in a completely clueless and insensitive way, a paragon of both carelessness and kindness...oh, unlimited kindness! For she knew well that he could have killed her then, at that time 15 years ago, when she'd been completely at his mercy, helpless. His powers probably surpassed hers, and in the body of a ten-year-old girl, with no powers other than the strength and agility which stayed with her always, he could have destroyed her utterly. To the normal observer, the Infernus Scholasticus was comparatively mild. Evangeline smiled wryly; it was a solution that would have appealed to him, combining the facts of a living hell with the hope of redemption. Surrounded by high-school girls, insensitive and unsophisticated, stupid and unbearably irritating...
The brat. The brat! Her student and disciple, unlike and like his father in so many ways. Negi was so much more outwardly caring, and, of course, far more academic. Yet they had the same wordless understanding, the same hidden maturity, and of course very similar looks. She closed her eyes fast, as if to deny herself the mental sight of the Springfields...Oh, God...
Asuna, the stupid, annoying, frustrating, and oh-so-pleasurable to torture young Ministra. The sword-girl, so dutiful and foreign, so attached to her sweet charge, so easy to see through...They came in floods now: Konoka, healer, Nodoka, mind-reader, Ku, martial artist, Yue, study source, Haruna, illusionist, Kaede, mindless ninja, and the rest of those idiots who sometimes so inexplicably overwhelmed her carefully-laid defences against humanity.
And, of course, Chachamaru.
In the pale light that filtered softly through the heavy silk curtains, her Master was illuminated as she lay, obviously distressed, on the couch that had been here since her activation. What could she do to help her? she thought automatically, going through the thought processes Hakase and Chao had programmed into her. Nothing, her memory and experiences of Master said. It would only irritate her. There was nothing an unimportant gynoid could do to alleviate the wordless suffering that Master endured. Yet she yearned to assist her in any way that was possible, both because of the programmes and because of her own quiet, hidden respect and appreciation of Master. What could she say? She realized, now, with a new and yet unshakeable certainty, that she actually liked her master; the one who'd treated her so badly, and regarded her only as a useful tool for the housework and against opponents. Like...such an alien concept to the robot! Chachamaru had never become used to the strange feelings she felt towards first Negi, and then, just as strongly, but somewhat differently, towards Evangeline. When would she ever be able to call Master that? Or even Eva-chan! Such high sacrilege...But she smiled at the futile thought, imagining, perhaps, a time when that would be possible, or a dream in which this future could be depicted. A dream. So many dreams lay in her perceptions, and, she realised it now, almost all centred around those elusive two beings who were dear to her heart, such as it was. Of course, both were completely impervious to her unspoken affection, even when it was so obvious that the added presence and mind of Hakase would have resulted in yet another barely controlled rampage around the school grounds. Chachamaru could only hope that one day, somewhere, they would realise exactly how much they meant to her.
She strode forth with the special will that only her kind knew, and decided to try, at least, to set things to rights. "Master, would you like some tea?"
"Master, would you like some tea?" The soft, monotonous, and strangely comforting voice cut through her reverie, a needle passing through a wooden block. Evangeline expected herself to snap, without looking, "Please go away, Chachamaru. I do not require you as of this time." She knew Chachamaru expected her to. And yet, for some strange reason she did not quite comprehend, she looked up at the tall gynoid and surveyed her through those uncomfortably cutting eyes. Their eyes met, and Evangeline could have sworn she saw a spark of something cross those flat, pale green eyes. It was not pity; she was sure of that. Hakase had assured her that Chachamaru could not feel that particular detestable emotion which the vampire was so fearful of. But whatever it was, she unconsciously welcomed it, and the robot's offer. "Thank you, Chachamaru. That would be quite pleasant."
Something imperceptible shifted between master and servant, something so tiny neither of the two noticed; yet it was perhaps the most monumental occasion that had ever occurred in their relationship, so short in reality but stretching for millennia in familiarity.
A/N: There it is! Please review, and review well. Constructive criticism would be most appreciated, as I have a slight problem with one-liners. Thanks!