A/N: Er..this is a draft I've had in my folder for quite some time now, and I decided to dust it off and try it out again. Plus, this denotes my return to writing RivaMika! Yay!…? Anyway, I don't know if this kind of thing has been done yet, but I liked the idea so there you go. Also, not sure how long this will be, maybe 5 or 6 chapters.
Story will be short chapters/files, each designated by '[DAY #]' in the heading (h1/h1) line.
Note: My JavaScript and HTML syntax and formatting are all wrong (see: random semicolon in chapter title), but I was going for immersion than accuracy. Also, FF erased all my HTML entities (greater/less than, brackets, underscore) so head over to my tumblr (username: soterianyx) for the full draft.
L_E_V_I . exe - [DAY 1];
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"Are you sure about this, Mikasa?" Dr. Hanji Zoe grinned at one of her junior engineers from across the bright laboratory. Her hand was poised over the mouse of the computer she was working on, the three monitors dimmed to accommodate the stark light.
Mikasa, a slender, raven-haired woman, frowned at her team leader's thrice-repeated question, making sure the technical genius could clearly see her eye roll. "Considering Dr. Smith expected the reprogrammed model in his office by the end of last month, I think I'm pretty sure. We can't afford to waste any more time, Dr. Zoe."
"Hanji, Mikasa. After more than three years of working together, I think we're past the point of formalities." Hanji tapped on the keyboard, bringing up multiple blueprints of a human-based android and a copy of a part of code she was currently working on. "Anyway, I've already sent this to your home terminal," she jabbed roughly at the complicated code, "but I'm still updating the cranium profile blueprint. His eyes are giving me…problems," she trailed off, letting out an exaggerated sigh. The green lettering of the words "SMITH & ZOE LABS – ROSE DIVISION" on the sign above her desk reflected in her thick glasses as she bobbed her head, shading her eyes from view.
"I'll look into it," said Mikasa reluctantly, and turned toward the bulletproof glass case situated in the middle of the expansive laboratory. She studied the technological marvel inside, a hand on her hip as the other went flying over the locking panel, and entered a stupid number of passwords to release the casing. A low hum echoed off the various computers and generators around her while she quietly counted to seven.
"Vocal pattern needed to disengage docking," the panel promptly chirped at her.
"Mikasa Ackerman."
"Accepted. Please stand by."
Mikasa cocked her head, studying the cyborg in front of her. She had spent several years working on this particular model's internal hardware—too many wires, plugs, circuits, and you-name-its to last more than a lifetime if you asked her—and had been initially surprised by its exterior's appearance. Its design was certainly more pleasing to the eye than the previous models Hanji had sent her home with in past years—not to mention that it could decently pass for a human with a careless glance. She silently praised the cosmetic engineers for their achievement.
If only she hadn't the bizarre feeling she somehow recognized the face from…somewhere. Impossible.
Hanji grunted from her desk in the corner. "Call me if you need me. And pretty please, don't break the equipment. He has a bit of an, uh…attitude." She harrumphed and muttered under her breath, "But you already knew that."
"How bad can it be?" Mikasa watched disinterestedly as wires began to fall from the android's limbs, torso, and head, the power and other auxiliaries automatically shutting off. Its eyelids flew open to reveal glassy onyx pupils, which immediately flicked down to where she was standing. She held its gaze—somewhat defiantly—and paced gently in front of it while running basic assessments in her mind. The black glass followed her. Visual awareness test: check. So, not the hardware. I guess Dr. Zoe's—Hanji's—eye problem has something to do with an extension program in the optics themselves. "I'll only be away for a month. I think I can handle one robot."
"That's what you said about the J.E.A.N. and E.R.E.N. models," groused Hanji, swiping a hand in front of her to bring up a translucent digital panel feet away from her face. "Power completely disengaged."
The android man blinked at Mikasa and immediately frowned.
"Only because you insisted on programming their personality cores as fifteen-year-olds!" Mikasa stepped back from the panel and walked around to unplug the main power cord in the back of its neck. "Seriously. Teenagers?"
"I hope that hand of yours is clean, human." Human-like inflections scattered within a metallic voice cut through the low rumbles of the machinery.
She snatched her hand back, surprised at the affront and that the thing was actually talking to her. "Pardon me?" I guess the damn voice box works.
The head swiveled the full one hundred and eighty degrees to face her, its lips pulled back into a disgusted scowl. "You do know I've been kept in this sterilized cube for the whole of my life, don't you? Keep your filthy human hands off my power port."
"Now, now." Hanji rose from her chair and came to stand in front of her creation, a satisfied smile creeping onto her face. "Surely you've overheard us. Your combat software still has a few kinks in the programming, and Dr. Ackerman here has so graciously offered to, er, sort it out during the next month. Erwin has been most pleased with her progress on you and expects a complete adjustment very soon."
The synthetic skin on its face tightened with every word, but the android turned to look at Hanji—almost submissively—and nodded. Mikasa slowly reached upward to grab the thick cord, brushing the smooth black hair (did a robot really need hair?) away from its entry point. "For the record, my hands are always clean." She quipped shortly, suddenly questioning herself whether this was going to be one of those ideas that had only sounded good in her head. 'Attitude' is an understatement.
Once free, the android rotated its shoulders—why, Mikasa wasn't sure of, since the thing didn't have actual muscles that needed stretching—and immediately stepped down off the platform, gracefully of course, looking around. "I don't suppose you have any clothes lying around?"
Mikasa sighed, pulling her hair back into a ponytail and discarding her jacket onto one of her kitchen chairs. The ride home had been awkward to say the least; the android had refused to talk to her during the long half hour, and Mikasa had tried not to stare at the too-humanlike robot in her passenger seat. At least he wasn't naked anymore.
"I've already set up a small docking station for you here," she pointed to a corner in her living room, a lamp illuminating a small duplicate of the platform in the underground laboratory. "You'll have to power down every night at midnight since I'll be asleep, and to keep from having your programs corrupted—"
"Yes, yes, I know already. You humans are far too fragile, having to sleep for a third of your lives." He had stepped into the middle of her living room, no doubt running his small basic reconnaissance program, and was now scanning her desk near the window. A faint blue laser-like sheet swept over her home terminal.
Irritated at being sassed by a robot, Mikasa threw herself onto her couch, running a hand down her face. She was already beginning to doubt whether she could handle any more of its backtalk today and she still had to fix that hardware issue in its chest—something Hanji had failed to tell her until she was halfway out the door. "Look, I don't like this situation any more than you do, but—"
"I fail to recognize the problem. Weren't you the one who offered to repair my code?" Apparently, it had decided that Mikasa's living room was safe enough for casual conversation and had seated itself by her feet at the end of the couch. The small shirt Hanji had found clung around its wide shoulders, and Mikasa had to admit that in this moment, the android almost looked like it belonged there, sitting on her couch. With crossed legs and arms, hair falling into its eyes, and hunched posture, it could almost pass for a real man.
"Yes, but—"
"Then what is your problem with our current circumstance, Dr. Ackerman?" The metallic voice lifted in question, curiosity obvious in the tone.
"I just—I wanted—I…look," She sat up, huffing at her inability to form coherent sentences. "I'm just a little uncomfortable with you in my apartment."
"A little?" He cocked his head in a scoff.
"I don't think you understand my position, android," said Mikasa hotly.
"Levi."
"What?"
"My name is Levi." He raised a thin eyebrow. "That is the name Dr. Smith and Dr. Zoe have referred to me as for the past one thousand six hundred forty-seven days."
Mikasa exhaled, distinctly remembering this same conversation she'd had with the E.R.E.N. (the very first version) and J.E.A.N. (the second) models a year before; it seemed the L.E.V.I. model would be no different. Hanji had insisted on giving her creations names and had settled on using the acronyms for their programmed code—something Mikasa had been loath to acknowledge at the beginning (since they were only machines at best). Giving them personalized names other than "Mk. I" and "Mk. II" seemed to go too far. But that was before the E.R.E.N. model had started referring to her as "sister" three months into their forced companionship, and she had buckled—from either being too weary to argue, or perhaps from something a little more…sentimental. So "Eren" and "Jean" they had been called.
"Fine. Levi." Or L.E.V.I. Whatever. "Just…never mind. I need to take a look at your personality core. Hanji says you have a glitch in the wiring."
"Why didn't you say so before? You could have prevented this from happening," Levi uncrossed his legs, cut the thin shirt down the middle with a small blade hidden in his forefinger, and ran a hand down the right side of his chest, popping open a small panel under where a rib cage would be.
A small stream of smoke wafted from within, and Mikasa jumped from her relaxed position and gave a small shriek of disbelief. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"You are the engineer here, not I," sneered Levi, and he leaned further into the couch as Mikasa unceremoniously stuffed her hand into the narrow opening and beneath the tangle of wires and metal bits that made up most of his interior.
She placed a hand on his shoulder for support as she dug further into the hardware and almost laughed at the awkward position they were in—if Levi were human. Armin would definitely have something to say if he walked in on me now: "Gone and got yourself a robot for a date, eh Mikasa? Did you let him know you're actually married to your work? He is your work? Well, damn." Good thing Levi was entirely oblivious to the wide range of human emotion. Plus he wasn't even real, so to speak, so it was entirely inappropriate for her to be having these kinds of thoughts anyway. What was she doing again?
"Might I suggest removing the extraneous 'Q' wire completely? It seems to be blocking the 'N' wire's path to the core." At such a close vicinity, Mikasa could easily pick out the layers of Levi's voice embedded in the vocal box at the back of his throat. The highs and multiple lows breathed a richer, but more metallic tone, and she made a mental note to thank Hanji for installing a more appealing voice chip.
"I thought I was the engineer here." She shoved more cords aside, almost toppling him, until she found the Q wire Levi was talking about. Damn him. She yanked it out and snapped the N wire into its proper port on the small board that housed the whole of the L.E.V.I. program and its external applications. She glanced at the board, spying the letters "L.E.V.I." etched in small, plain print along its side. "Who's your personality core based on anyway?" Mikasa leaned back against the foot of the couch, allowing her head to thump onto the cushion.
A pause, long enough to warrant suspicion, then: "That information is denied to you, Dr. Ackerman." Levi shut the small window to his core, its edges melting back into the synthetic skin—invisible to the passing eye. He did not meet her narrow gaze.
"Of course it would be," she muttered, eyes still narrowed to paper cuts while scrutinizing his stoic face for any other hints. She briefly speculated whether this model could lie (the others couldn't) and made a note to ask Hanji later. "Hanji and Erwin do love their little secrets." She rolled her head to face Levi directly. "Call me Mikasa. We're not at the lab anymore."
"Are you flirting with an android, Dr. Ackerman?" The black glass stared back.
"My name is Mikasa. And no," she said a bit forcefully and felt her face redden, wondering how Levi could even pick that up. He was supposed to be an intelligence and combat android, not an escort-droid. "Why would I even consider flirting with a robot?" She huffed at a piece of hair that had worked itself free from her ponytail.
"Based on my previous scan of your apartment, it appears you live alone. I sensed no lingering aromatic cues from anyone else, human or android; your room seems to hold only the barest of living essentials, and you have no mementos of any family, friends, or otherwise. For someone as lonely as yourself, any form of company would be desirable, android or not," reasoned Levi, a bit smugly.
Mikasa turned a deeper shade of crimson and coughed stiffly. "And why did you feel the need to scan my room? When did you even go in there?" Her voice rose, incredulous.
"Do you not remember when Hanji installed my omni-scanner? Walls do not inhibit me. Besides, you might even say it's 'what I was made for'."
"That does not give you adequate enough reason to scan someone's personal space, android or not." Mikasa silently berated herself for missing that small detail, and for some reason, she found herself making yet another mental note to undress while 'Levi' was powered off. At this rate, she'd have a Post-It note pad for a brain. "Hanji was right. You better hope I don't end up dismantling you," she warned, tipping her head back once again. Damn you, Hanji!
"I have safety protocols to prevent complete disassembly, as you very well know…Mikasa."
"Of course you do. Now shut up and let me rest."
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A/N: Wondering where The Notebook comes in? All will be told in the next chapters.
