Warren.
Warren scratched his neck as the doorbell to his apartment rang, the abrupt noise in his otherwise silent home causing him to nearly leap from his skin!
He felt sweat starting to form across his back, making the general stickiness he'd been contending with feel all the worse for his anxieties.
Warren needed a shower…
Heh… he needed a whole lot of things, actually…
A hot meal that didn't come in a thermal package from a vending machine. A conversation and appointment with a laundry-bot, and definitely a visit to a barber or barber-droid…
As things stood, Warren knew how scruffy he looked…
Ratty beard, long hair, enough grease for a potluck cookout, and clothes that had been washed at—some point in the last dozen weeks…
His apartment wasn't much better than he was…
Filled with hastily piled bags of trash and assorted garbage, un-recycled recyclables, kicked aside clothes that were screaming mercy and praying for the blessed touch of water and soap.
There were crushed cans scattered about the small kitchen-dining combo that hadn't been used in lieu of takeout since he'd first rented the place.
And, though there weren't any bugs (yet), one could rightly assume that, given a few more months of living like this, it was a practically pre-ordained eventuality that he'd soon be contesting with cockroaches for his own leftovers.
A-and, of course, there was his workstation.
Truth be told, this final aspect of his abode, or 'lair' as his friend and co-conspirator had called it, was the earnest and genuine reason for eighty percent of his current appearance.
Honestly, the remaining twenty was all on him… and then again, he only saw it that way through the eyes of his own depression.
Truly, even with all his money being sunk into his project, Warren could have found ways to take care of himself and his apartment.
S-sadly, the man was lazy… and, at home, without the expectation, structure, and demands that the military had placed on him back before he'd quit and stolen—well, either way, this is what Warren's natural state of being seemed to default to, no matter how many times it had happened in his life.
All the same, he was perfectly at home within his own chaos besides…
No, when held against the knife, it was clear where his priorities lay, and as it happened, hygiene wasn't among the short list of things he valued.
Still, it was with an almost nervous tick that Warren, twitchingly, approached the door, hastily combing his hair with his own fingers as its greasy strands were folded back on themselves, giving his appearance an almost gelled look—i-if one were to look at him in the perfect light…
Oh well, he doubted the person at the door really gave two shits over his appearance… and he could deal with the issue of his hagrid form now that he wasn't sinking every credit he made into his scheme…
Affecting as bright and welcoming a smile as he could manage, Warren opened the sliding door just as it rang for a third time, revealing the dingy, rubber-scented, and dishearteningly utilitarian hallway and the single ray of sunshine and hope that waited within it.
Warren felt his heart skip a beat as the grimy air wafted past the door. The old and rundown complex hall, ever tidied by custodians but never actually washed, hardly detracted from the angelic appearance of the smiling girl before him…
She was radiant!
And though her matte-white skin was synthetic, though she had exposed joints, glossy and mechanical as they were, her brilliant and wide smile, large blue luminescent eyes, and upbeat, enthusiastic voice all converged in a mere moment to uplift his spirit, allowing every worry and anxiety to softly drift away on the breeze…
"Good afternoon! And thank you for your continued patronage, dear customer; 'Warren.' According to my schedule, you have booked a one-time extended home visit with 'Doll unit '0-0-2-7-7-2. Claire.' If this appointment is correct, please offer verbal confirmation! If you cannot provide verbal confirmation, please provide confirmation via an approved gesture. Approved gestures include a thumbs up, a smile, a—"
"N-no, I mean, yes, I set up the appointment; I mean, it's approved." Warren quickly interrupted, stumbling over his own words as he felt his face flush.
The Doll, a sexbot, or call-droid as they were colloquially called by those who used them or simply made fun of those who did, appeared to hesitate for half a moment at his somewhat confusing answer.
Tilting her head in a very human-like manner, she smiled again at him, her bright and beautiful expression returning with full heart-stopping force before she nodded her head a single time.
She was perfect, but then again, she was made that way… With long and silken black hair, loose bangs that reached her brows, and a figure that was, in a very real way, designed with a singular purpose in mind…
He loved her… b-but, she couldn't ever love him…
A sad reality born of mental instability and falsified warmth that, truth be told, the human mind simply couldn't differentiate from the real thing…
But Warren—Warren could fix that…
Her eyes glowed with a momentary flash before a slight chime filled the air, her exuberant virtue and blessed naivete akin to a soft breeze upon a warm spring afternoon, all of it gently accented by the subtle aroma of fruity perfume that wafted from her flowy dress.
"Appointment confirmed! Now, though you are a verified user, new security protocols require me to ask if you intend to harm, modify, steal, damage, or otherwise perform any action that could violate the terms and conditions of our contract, please state—"
"I-I would never!" Warren burst, taking a half step forward, eyes wide and wild with blinded adoration, hands trembling with scarcely contained excitement… "I would never hurt you, Claire."
Again, another pause; however, the reason so many people liked the Dolls, at least when compared to other 'service droids' in the industry, was because they tended to overlook certain—emotional red flags.
Doubtless, the girl was already processing his rapid heartbeat, the sweat forming at his temples, the way he seemed to constantly switch his stance from the left foot to the right and scratch nervously at his neck…
As things currently stood, Warren knew he'd fail a psych eval, and possibly before he'd been asked the first question!
Still, the Doll merely nodded, the all-mighty credit allowing her to bypass whatever safety protocols were in place to prevent what Luna-C saw as 'violent crimes' in the making because, surprise, 'Paradise,' the company that owned this particular android, was as shady as they were popular.
The abrupt sound of an opening door had the man's gaze darting towards it like a startled rabbit, his breaths coming shallow in his chest as he stared across the hall to spy another man as he stepped outside.
"Fucking hell Warren…" Came a voice that he was reasonably familiar with, the abrupt callout of his name, even as the Doll shifted to step inside his apartment without seeming interested in the interruption, causing the man to freeze like a small animal. "Jesus… you've seen better days, huh?"
It was all the ex-engineer could do but plaster on a fake smile, his fingers adjusting his spindly glasses as he peered over to his neighbor, who was exiting his own room, a barking, happy, and holographic puppy racing around his legs.
"Heeey Bill… Taking Rick out for another walk?"
"Eh, it helps cool the nerves when Viv and I get into a fight… fucking virtual girlfriends, am I right? All the problems, none of the sex… Oh well… Not much a registered S.O can get otherwise, you know? You ugh… you calling in another Doll, huh?"
"Uh-yup…" Warren smiled, or he thought he did, thin lips curling in that ever-familiar manner that people offered others when they really didn't want to talk.
This particular apartment complex didn't exactly bring in the 'best crowd.' In fact, it was a well-known den for reprobates, criminals, the dirt poor, or assorted castoffs of the city that was subsidized simply to keep the unwanted of society as far away from those it actually deemed to fit in.
Bill, as it happened, was a pretty decent guy.
That said, he'd also been caught 'hanging out' with underage boys while using a spoofed profile and doing gods only knew what else within the 'under-eighteen' servers of the Sub-verse…
So, he wasn't 'good' either.
For his part, Bill could only click his tongue, not exactly judging Warren for what he could doubtless see of his own apartment through the door and, after a moment, shrugging as though he really didn't care. "Well… pfft… have fun, I guess, and ugh, you know, if you feel like meeting up online to play some Terra-war's or something, you've got my profile!"
Then, pausing, he added, "Hey, you know, Warren… If ever you wanted to talk or needed someone to just vent at, I've got this therapist who's been helping me—"
"I'm fine!" Warren snapped, wincing a second later as he bit back on what nearly came next, taking in a deep breath before shaking his head, losing most, if not all, his will for conversation. "Listen, Bill, I gotta go man… I'm…"
"Nah, I get it!" The other man nodded, turning to finish shutting his door, and the entirely clean and well-furnished apartment just visible through the crack before the guy shrugged. "Dolls ain't cheap, even the ones from Paradise. Just ugh, do yourself a favor and maybe hit up a salon or something, brother; those whiskers are getting a little long there…"
Warren laughed his neighbor's scarcely veiled commentary towards his hygiene away as Bill gave him a wave while walking off, his tiny 'pet' yipping and yapping after him, darting between his neighbor's legs as he huffed on a burner, leaving a massive plume of scented vapor in his wake.
The forced upward curve of Warren's lips gently relaxed, his eyes losing their brief spark of strained and exhausting politeness.
He worried a loose bit of skin on the inside of his cheek with his teeth, his gaze following Bill as he departed down the stairwell, making sure the other man pushed through the security door and disappeared before he let out a stifled sigh.
Slowly, he closed the door to his apartment. The exterior light of the hallway fading as its final glimmer vanished through the diminishing crack.
Then, it was dark again, Warren, once more, submerged in the thickening gloom of his abode, eyes shifting to fall upon the waiting android as the object of his fixation silently observed him.
Her smile was far too innocent and pure for this world… She didn't understand, and how could she? B-but—but… Warren would fix her. He would help her see! T-then, they could be together, forever!
They could be happy!
Slowly, the engineer reached out for the small device sitting on his desk, activating the improvised signal jammer he'd built for this very occasion before wrapping his fingers over the cool plastic of a stun baton that lay beside it, flicking the switch as the savage crackle of electricity sparked to life in his hand…