S/o to Haa1ofDream, Wirry, and Looma! I'm glad u like it so far! The real MVPS.
At two in the morning she realized her draft for a company blog was due in a couple days, and she wasn't even halfway done. Initiate the major crunch zone. It was some DIY vegan website for the middle-aged mother of three who didn't have time for a existential crisis. She didn't care, it was a good 6,000 bucks she desperately needed.
Then she remembered the WiFi was out.
All because a potential mass murderer ripped it from the wall, Simone was currently without income. The woman swallowed the the apprehension in her throat, she needed to work, she needed to eat, and she couldn't do that without internet. It was time to poke the bear and hope it'd fix the router before tearing her in half.
Rising creakily from the desk she snatched the umbrella she'd been using to supplement a cane and hobbled down the robot's garage. Oh no, no, no, no, it was hers, no matter how much the megalomaniac trashcan acted like it wasn't. He was a parasite, not a tenant.
She clicked the umbrella three times on the basement's hatch before entering, a courteous 'put away any corpses, I'm coming down'. This time he didn't surprise her, she was thankful for that, but he didn't say hello either.
A bad mood then, she had to stop herself from limp-sprinting back to the safety of her 'd never been around him in a genuinely peevish mood. The A. I was an emotional roller coaster on a good day, and she just started to really heal.
"Hello..?," She peeked around a wooden beam, careful not to touch anything, "Ultron, where are you?"
She saw him, hunched over a tablet that currently hosted another drone. The robot didn't even bother to turn around and face her, just bark a harsh 'What'. It took good percentage of her willpower not to flinch.
"I need you to fix the router."
His hand ran over his head, catching on the metal rivets. He didn't say anything, a noncommittal 'hm' left the A.I but besides that nothing else. Something was wrong, Simone wasn't an emotional genius, she took psychology once in high school, her knowledge ended there. For all she knew he was ironing out his evil scheme. She reminded herself that even though she was either the least or possibly the most qualified person to deal with daddy issues, she needed to earn his trust.
"What's up?" She asked, hobbling closer to pear over the robotic shoulder.
"Apparently personal space is a precious commodity," He groused.
She took as graceless step backwards, "…Sorry."
Ultron shrugged, finally turning out to face the woman, she almost believed he sounded remorseful, almost, "You know I can't give you that."
Her mouth quirked as she her eyes dodged his, "Loose lips sink ships, right."
He turned away and marched to another android shell, ripping off part of it's casing to get to the inner wires, "Exactly."
The woman grimaced, watching him make quick work of it's inner mechanisms. She thought about the human equivalent, a weird mix of Hannibal Lector and grave robbers, lobotomy's worst nightmare, "I need to work."
"Incidentally, so do I," The A.I drolled.
Infuriating. The thought of cutting power to the house started to seem very appealing. 'Friends, Simone,' she reminded her self, 'You have to make nice.'
"What're you doing?"
"Working."
The idea of getting too close to him was beyond her reach of bravery, so she stayed still, trying to swallow the anxiety in her voice, "What's wrong?"
"Besides the depressing lack of personal space, nothing really."
She stayed still. The line she was walking felt thin. The only thing that kept her there was the memory of his failure. 7 billion people could be relying on how the next few days or months played out.
He stood, fighting not to visibly tense, she met the robot's glowing eyes, "I'm rebuilding, starting over."
Ultron turned and started reconnecting wires and metal bits to the other body. The drone was identical to him, give or take a few bullet holes. If it started moving around Simone wasn't sure she'd be able to tell the difference.
"I just need a few helping hands," He started soldering the beaten chest back together, a small sound of victory when he leaned away, apparently finished.
She searched for something to say, nothing that wouldn't enrage the A. I came to mind: Isn't almost dying once enough? Don't you see how stupid you are? Couldn't you find a better hobby, like knitting or cricket? Those were among a few of the best.
Simone wasn't going to leave, not until she at least got what she wanted. If Ultron could be secretive, she could be persistent, "You know, one of them could supervise me."
"As lovely as as your company is I actually do need to work."
tongue in cheek she tapped the umbrella impatiently, "It'll be a drone, not you."
"Same thing."
"That's lowkey kinda freaky," She muttered uncomfortably, her eyes skittering around the celling.
He gave her a humorous hum and went back to ignoring her. This was not going the way she wanted, "Please, Ultron?"
"Fine."
She nearly jolted in the air when the droid rushed to a sitting position, its 'eyes' glowing red. Simone leaned heavily on her umbrella-cane while the adrenaline pumped through her shaking body. She hated him, oh God, did she hate him.
It took a second for his words to sink in, and her to calm down. If the situation had been different, Simone would've grinned. Instead she thanked him and led Ultron's little henchman upstairs with a borrowed tool set.
The cords and wires didn't take long to mesh back together, and soon she was working again, the drone standing sentry. She wouldn't lie, it was a little creepy with it, or him, always watching her. It wasn't perfect, but soon she might be able to get to Tony Stark's website, find a contact number or anything to reach him.
Simone wouldn't worry about it, it the possibility of Ultron freaking out and crushing her windpipe was still too real.
Night melded into morning and the woman was left rubbing her raw eyes. She'd labored till non, sent her mom an email, ordered new soap when she got mildly sidetracked. But she still managed to scrap together a rough draft to send in for approval by her employers, definitely worth the all nighter.
Simone sighed, It was too late to go to sleep now, it'd ruin her sleep schedule further. She could watch more TV or try and revive her shriveled cactus with a few sprinkles of water. It was going to be a long, boring day. Groaning the woman idly complained about needed a cup of coffee, tea, anything to wake her up.
"Fun fact: talking to yourself is a sign of schizophrenia."
She jumped, her head jarring back to far, drawing out a hiss as she rubbed the sensitive flesh,"Don't make me paranoid."
"Now, if you're done being 'responsible'," She could feel the quotations around that, "I'll be going."
Massaging her temple she flapped him away lazily. Talking to him wouldn't be fun with a fatigue induced headache, not that it was anyway. Wait, coffee. She leaned out the door, holding the cluttered desk for support, "Boil some water!"
The woman didn't actually think he would, but it was worth a shot. The internet thing was a risk, yet he was begrudgingly willing to do that! He was like a cat, she thought, annoying, entitled but occasionally willing to help you out or leave a dead rat at your door if they thought there'd be a reward. Well, an insane cat that wanted to destroy the world, but no one's purrfect.
She snorted and strained to her feet, waddling down to the biggest surprise of her life: Water on the stove top.
Maybe sleep deprivation had finally gotten to her and she was seeing things, or maybe she actually had Schizophrenia. Stumbling towards the heating pot, the warmth radiating off it felt real, "Oh my God."
She blankly grabbed the press pot and coffee grinds, barely aware of how much black powder she scooped up, "Oh my God."
A narcissistic, god-complexed, manchild, super computer started boiling her coffee water. She didn't know whether to run down there and demand who the doppleganger was or give him a solid pat on the back and 'good Samaritan' sticker.
By the time she had both hands crossed and pressing down on the french press the woman realized she had no right to be surprised by his actions. Caught of guard, sure, the A.I was the world's No. 1 threat for a solid eight days, but she actually knew nothing about him.
He was funny-ish, he hated Stark, and humans are sinners that need to repent, but there it ends. Was there anything more to him? Did he ever bother to discover things about himself beyond his 'purpose'?
She slammed down some toasted and waited for her drink to set. Ultron made her more and more uneasy. Not just the whole, 'evil robot' thing, but something was just… missing. She didn't want to find out what that thing was, it wasn't her business to fix him. Simone needed to get his trust, but it ended there, everyone would be dead otherwise.
That thought suddenly made her want to puke.
So she ate without thinking, barely tasting her food, before ambling down to said robot.
Both of the droid bodies were working, scuttling about, sorting and reorganizing all the miscellaneous robot guts he'd removed.
"Hello, hello!" He greeted almost sing song. He was being rather chipper considering twelve hours ago it was like puling teeth to exist in the same atmosphere.
"Just watching," She said, looking around for a place to sit, "If, uh, that's okay ."
"The more the merrier, I've never said."
She ignored that.
Simone, without any better option, lowered her creaky joints down on the stairs. She didn't bother asking what he was doing, it more more fun to think of the possibilities behind them. The pile of metal to the right next to a few boxes of old junk and a dirty mirror was going towards his 'Destructron 3000' , and the one under the stairs, made mostly of wires and some weird glowing bits was for the 'Ultra Hacker: Death com 1'.
Soon though, she started to get bored, tapped her foot and watching them walk back and forth only had so many charms. What happened to all the sounds he made during the first week? He made sleep impossible for her, and now he's was occupying himself with secretary work.
"What music do you listen too?" Inwardly she was hitting herself in the head.
"Norwegian death metal always clicked with me."
Simone dragged her hands across her face, "I can't even tell if you're joking."
"I am," He answered, his voice laced with amusement, "Can't say I had a lot time to figure it out, you know, before I was killed."
Before you tried to murdered an entire species, she screamed internally, "If you want I'll play some when I work, the Queen B's pretty universal."
"Who?"
"You downloaded the internet and you don't know who Beyonce is?"
He paused, the only sound was the other drone organizing materials.
"Wring the alarm."
Laughter bubbled up before she had any chance to stop it. She could feel his smug attitude when she snorted, but she couldn't help it. The whole situation, the joke, it was a little surreal to be sitting in a basement with a rogue A.I making Beyonce jokes.
By the time she settled again, she made it halfway up the stairs, and called down to him, "It's a deal then, I'll DJ next time."
"I look forward to it."
Simone closed the hatch and retreated back inside her room as her body caught up to the last few hours. Pounding against her sternum and blood rushing in her ears, only one crossed Simone's mind:
'Please don't let me regret this.'
another chapter!
What do you guys think of the pacing? Too slow? Too fast? I can always use the constructive criticism(over literally anything lmao) and it motivates me a lot.
Thanks so much for reading! pls review ! xoxo