Crying Piano

The Golden Ostrich

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Disclaimer: I do not own Big O or any of the characters mentioned here within, but I'm kidnapping them for this story

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Roger has opted to sleep in again, causing me to feel obligated in serving as an alarm clock. Machines can switch roles from time to time...

Feel...that must be the wrong word; androids can't feel anything but simple mechanical emotions. Even that isn't really feeling...it's more like sensing. I can sense when I should be happy, when I should be sad, when I should be afraid. They are not real emotions, only a crude imperfect human imitation.

I wonder often why mankind insists on creating these tools...we are incredibly logical, yet I don't understand our existence. To be an android is to suffer...eternally. We have no soul, no heart to speak of, but desire them constantly. Denied the right to truly live, but damned to serve these wretched humans as our masters through the haze of some sort of technological purgatory.

I do not have any animosity towards Roger...he did, after all, take me in after my creator was killed, and has come to my aid many times since. He is a kind man; entirely unsure of himself like I am.

And recently, when I find myself in his presence, a new emotion has been bubbling to my cold metallic surface...

Something I can't describe...

Something I don't believe I was ever programmed to feel...

Something these humans would recognize as love.

This is why I agonize over my existence...I'm certain my mechanical heart has been struck with a dull clunk for this beautiful creature. One who breathes and has warm flesh that I cannot feel. But how? How can I love? I'm naught but a simple android, a doll for humans to command.

I ask Roger about love a lot...probably more than is safe without raising suspicions, but of course he knows it's not possible for me to love. He would never love an assemblage of metal and wires like myself anyway; it is pointless for me to ask. But I find myself wanting to know.

Wanting...isn't that too an emotion? It is something androids are not designed to feel, that is for certain. I am programmed to be content with my circumstances. Yet, I yearn for nothing more than explanations. Roger seeks answers to his questions and I do as well...doesn't that make me more human than machine?

Or am I looking too deeply? Was I actually programmed this way?

No, I don't believe so. Humans are not clever enough to create true artificial souls.

Just the fact that I ask myself these things brings more questions to my mind...why am I so curious? Machines are not supposed to wonder, only serve. My purpose, of course, was different than most android's. I was built to bring a girl back from the dead, so is it possible that the late Professor Wayneright made me more human than android? I cannot help but hope...

Hope...

I sit at the piano and pause...hope? What can that mean? My fingers begin to move over the keys, mechanical fingers, joints of steel and circuitry. That is all I am; a metallic conglomerate doomed to suffer...

Suffer? Androids can't suffer. I must keep telling myself this.

I am not human. I cannot feel. I am not made of flesh; there is no blood running through my wires. I cannot even claim to have a brain; all that keeps me in this state are the memories buried in my headband. I am not real.

My hands clench and I bring my fists crashing down onto the delicate keys. They shatter at the impact; bits of black and white porcelain flying through the air. Anger...please, no more feelings. Just let me be what I'm meant to be.

The door flies open, not in exasperation as is the norm, but in concern. Roger is standing there, black hair disheveled and a look of pure confusion on his face. I feel something trickling down my face; I must have some sort of fake tear ducts in my eyes. This only upsets me further; why are they doing this to me? My hands stray towards the headband...this is where the misery lies.

"Dorothy!" Roger is beside me in an instant, pulling against my strong wrists. His sympathy causes more tears to spill and I actually feel my limbs weakening in bewilderment. I am in such a daze...

He releases me gently, brushing away the tears. "How can you cry?" he asks.

"I don't know," I answer truthfully. I was unaware of this capability.

He reaches out to put his arms around me but I back away. "I can't feel you; there is no point." He surrounds my cold body anyway.

"There's a point for me...you don't believe in pointlessness anyway."

I ponder this for a moment. He's right...and if it will make then man I want to love happier, then it should be allowed. I ruined his piano at any rate...

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Author's Note: was it any good? I was bored during geometry and started this; figred it should be finished. I've been trying to come up with a decent Big O plot for ages...I promise the next one will be better. Someone as gorgeous as Roger Smith deserves a damn good fanfic. *grin*