Elizabeth dropped down into the elevator. Her mud-caked boots were loud against the grate on the floor. The whole thing shook just like it always did, feeling much like the cables suspending it would snap.

The downpour outside had gotten rid of a decent amount of the blood, dirt, and dust on Father's springlock suit, but had done little for the mold.

Elizabeth was probably going to be spending a lot of time attempting to get rid of the rain that had leaked through the gaps in her metal plating.

She hit the elevator button with her elbow and continued to look everywhere but directly at Father.

When the elevator reached the bottom and stopped none too gently, the doors slowly began to open with a rather grating groan. They stopped a bit prematurely, and Elizabeth had to force them open the rest of the way with her shoulder and foot.

She made her way through the dull halls and over to the room that everyone seemed to be spending most of their time in now.

Miles looked over at her when she entered, then down at the corpse in her arms. "It appears that everything went... well."

Elizabeth walked over to one of the multiple wheeled tables in the room and set Father down, throwing the remains of the purple curtains into the trash chute on the wall.

"Um... about as well as something like this can go, I suppose." And before she could manage to think better of it, she decided to ask, "Do you happen to know anyone named Charlotte?"

Miles was quiet for a moment. "I was about to question why you were asking, but I suppose that Father has been bringing her up a lot lately, hasn't he? She's one of Mr. Emily's children and mine and Riley's friend when we were younger. She also... nevermind, I don't think you need to know that right now."

Before Elizabeth could say anything about that last part, he spoke again.

"Speaking of Riley, though, could you please wake her up?"

"Why? Have you finally grown tired of me? You did tell me that you were nearing that stage a little while ago." She wasn't being all of that serious, but she realized that there was a part of her that was actually jealous.

She didn't have a right to be, though. And she shouldn't have been surprised, either. She knew the only reason Miles put up with her was that up until recently, there hadn't been anybody else around for him to converse with.

Elizabeth knew that she was difficult to talk to. She always made everybody else feel like they were talking to a wall, or she snapped out of nowhere, or she said something she shouldn't have because she didn't think her words through properly.

Were conversations supposed to be so ridiculously difficult to hold? Judging by the tired sighs Elizabeth sometimes heard from Miles and often heard from Father before they fell silent and gave up, probably not.

"I said that in a moment of exasperation and I apologize. Despite the disagreements that we sometimes have, you know that I wouldn't completely cast you aside in favor of any other person that ends up down here."

Did she know that? Should she? Did Miles even need to apologize to her? Maybe he figured it'd help sway her to complete his request, which was certainly against Father's orders.

"But it is still nice to have a conversation with somebody else even now and again."

"Father wouldn't like it if I did that for you. I don't have permission."

"Yes, but he isn't currently with us, is he?"

Elizabeth slowly looked over at Father, who wasn't quite behind her because she couldn't find it in herself to fully turn her back towards him. "I... suppose you're right." Then she looked over at the machinery stacked atop one of the tables. Her eyes followed all of the cables, which trailed across the floor over to Riley.

Turn it on.

What harm would it do?

He won't know.

Elizabeth headed over and flipped all of the necessary switches. She had done it so many times now that she barely had to think about the order, so she instead thought about how weak-willed she was.

She didn't listen. She disobeyed. This was why Father was always so disappointed In her, why he got angry at her. So why did she keep doing it?

"Thank you."

Quickly, Elizabeth went to make sure that none of the cables were coming loose from the back of Riley's neck. With how much she thrashed about when Elizabeth was trying to work, they were certainly prone to.

And, of course, the very moment that Riley came to, she jerked her head away from Elizabeth's hands. Much harder than she usually did too.

"Would it kill you to at least wait until I properly come to before you start touching me?"

"Sorry," Elizabeth muttered automatically before going back over to Father.

She picked up the stack of notes that he had made on Miles, hoping that they would prove more useful here than they were with Riley.

Miles and Riley talked for a while and Elizabeth attempted to tune them out while she worked. She was mostly successful. For a little while, that is.

Eventually, Riley started trying to get her attention, to pull her into it.

Elizabeth gave in.

Maybe she just wanted an excuse to not have to keep trying to pull the mascot head off of Father's. The springlocks were embedded deep into his skin and seemed dead set on tearing away the flesh from his face whenever they got moved.

But of course, in her desperation, Elizabeth managed to forget that her conversations with Riley hardly ever retained the relatively light nature that the ones the redhead held with Miles.

"Scott, you are so—" It seemed that Elizabeth had once again managed to get infuriating enough that Riley could not even find words. "I—"

"Hate me? It's okay. Go on and say it already."

And then, just like that, the annoyance faded and Riley's lips pulled back into something that wasn't quite a smile because it was mixed with something else. It was accompanied by one of those back of the throat laughs that Elizabeth associated very strongly with Father and filled her with yet another emotion she couldn't identify.

There was a minute pause afterward.

"I don't hate you."

Elizabeth just raised an eyebrow at her before flatly replying with, "Funny. I now understand why you went around that job of yours with that horrible clown mask on. You're a regular comedian."

"I wasn't joking, actually. Don't get me wrong, I don't like you. But I don't hate you. Hate's a strong word and all that."

"But you like to use that word rather liberally with Father, don't you?"

"Yeah, that's because I do hate him."

"You shouldn't. He's one of your parents."

"I don't give a damn if he is. Maybe there is still a part of me that loves him, but let me tell you, if there is, it's overshadowed by years of anger, and bitterness, and resentment," Riley said. "You know what? You confuse me. Part of the reason I don't feel particularly strongly towards you is that you just confuse me. I mean, do you actually like doing half of the shit he tells you to?"

Did she? Elizabeth supposed she could say that she somewhat... enjoyed? Enjoyed fixing machines and things like that. Most other tasks she was indifferent to. And there were definitely a few that she hated.

"What do you do when he isn't ordering you around? Do you actually have any hobbies or anything?"

For a long time, Elizabeth did not really desire to do almost anything outside of what she was told to. And now? She still didn't get up to much. She usually just talked with Miles or wandered around and stewed in her thoughts. Maybe she'd read through newspapers or books Father left lying around out of boredom.

"What about all of the death? Are you entirely unfazed by it? Do you like it? Have you killed? Was it fun for you?"

"You ask far too many questions."

"Come on now. Don't get shy. Answer."

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. "I don't have to. I don't even have to speak to you at all." She shouldn't have been doing so, actually.

"You're keeping me in restraints and trying to fuse machine parts to me. The least you could do is answer a few measly questions, Lizzy."

"Don't call me that." Gross. She hated nicknames. Her name was Elizabeth. Not anything else. "You know what? If anybody here is confusing, it is you. Your behavior is very strange for somebody that is in your position."

"I'm a strange person. I hear that often. Tell me something new."

There was a very long, very painful stretch of silence where Riley was still very clearly waiting for answers.

Eventually, Elizabeth looked up at the ceiling. She could not continue to hold eye contact any longer. "Fine. I am... far from unfazed... by it. I do not like it. All of it is... disgusting and I don't even want to..." She couldn't even get herself to finish the sentence and didn't know why. "I don't like it."

"Then why do you help him with it?"

Of course that wasn't the end of it. Maybe Elizabeth wouldn't mind being asked so many questions if they weren't about her. She didn't even get why Riley cared to know the answers to half of what she asked.

"Because that's what Father requires of me. I have two purposes. To replace you, which I am clearly... struggling... with, and to aid him. It doesn't matter if I enjoy what he asks of me or not, what matters is getting it done because he told me to."

Riley was quiet for a moment. "If that's the case, it seems like it might've been a counterintuitive design choice to make you so... not robotic."

"He did not intend to make me so weak," Elizabeth said harsher than she had intended to. "I am not supposed to be this way. I am defective. That is what Miles has told me, anyway."

"I never said that you're defective. You aren't," Miles spoke up, and she was only just reminded that he was in the room with them because he had been silent for so long. "You just... aren't supposed to act outside of your programming, but you do because you started to form thoughts and feelings that were independent from it."

"I don't believe you. I am not a human being. I am a machine. An object. And objects are not supposed to feel. It... it..." It overwhelmed her. Buried her. Elizabeth hated that she could barely understand herself. She did not want to be the way that she was. It was wrong. All wrong. "I have work I should be doing. This conversation is over."

And with that, she turned away.