Work Text:
Accustom implied a level of discomfort.
Discomfort implied a level of concern for the opinions of others, besides his mother.
Concern implied a wide and healthy range of emotion.
And Lucas Miller had none of those things.
So to state that the android was accustom to stares was, arguably, inaccurate. He’d never had a concern for their stares to begin with. He was different, and mortals were as drawn to difference as they were repulsed by it.
But still, it was frustrating, in that it slowed his efficiency, tasking him with the arduous responsibility of explaining his existence. As though he had nothing better to do than entertain every fucking imbecile who just had to know if he had a soul, or genitals, or whether he ran on batteries or solar panels.
And this problem only worsened when they joined the Bureau of Balance. An organization intent on salvaging the world from the ramifications of mortal failure.
A lost cause, in his opinion, one that the robot kept to himself.
Because his mother liked it here. She liked the Director, Lucretia, a human woman who’d first approached them with such coldness he’d briefly thought she was like him. But her capacity for warmth became clear as she found solace with Maureen, a woman accustomed to loneliness and enamored by those who shouldered great burden. She made his mother happy, and that was reason enough for Lucas to stay.
She deserved to be happy, after everything she’d done. After everyone she’d lost.
It wasn’t a useless partnership for him either. Lucretia offered them knowledge, her insight insurmountably beneficial in their research on the planar system. And, though Lucas didn’t much care either way, she respected him as well. She didn’t stare, didn’t probe him with an endless stream of pointless questions. Lucretia had simply accepted his existence, and gave him a name tag and a space in which to continue his work.
A courtesy her employees could stand to learn.
Hands coated with synthetic skin contrasted the polished chrome abdomen they were fiddling around in, the android leaning back in his chair to rewire cords and circuits currently streaming out of his chest cavity. His feet were propped up on his desk as he worked, so engrossed that he didn’t immediately hear the footsteps approach. But eventually he heard the voices, loud and giggly noises that echoed annoyingly from down the corridor.
Pringles, an idiot, and some other people were coming. Probably also idiots.
“--And here’s Dr. Miller’s office. Honestly... I don’t really know what she does here, but it’s probably important? I dunno. She has a big fancy lab off base. It floats.”
“Oh yeah, the Director said her son worked here too, right?”
“A-ah, uh, well... Yeah. kinda. He’s… interesting.”
Lucas sighed, an unnecessary habit he’d picked up from the meat sacks around him, making no effort to alert the halfling of his presence. No, he let the dumb ass figure it out as he walked into the work space, finding the android sprawled across his chair. Checkered shirt unbuttoned, with dark cords spilling out from his gaping stomach like intestines.
“Hi.”
Lucas greeted them flatly through a small, shit-eating grin. Yet another trait he’d come to mimic, this one from his mother. The way she smiled at people not worth her time. And he took great delight in watching Pringles shriek and leap back against the unfamiliar trio, all of them clearly surprised by the sight of him.
A massive human, an older dwarf, and a sun-kissed elf with a wide brimmed hat and tall heels that clicked across the tile floor as strolled up to the android’s chair without pause.
Wait. What?
“Well aren’t you interesting,” the elf cooed, blinking rapidly through long lashes reminiscent of butterfly wings. “Magnus, don’t you fucking dare rip off the arms on this one!”
The wizard was smiling, the way mortals smiled when they wanted something from you. Lucas’ synthetic brows twisted over his tan face, his skin a soft, pliable polymer recently casted on to alleviate some of the bureau’s discomfort with him. Lucas hadn’t minded the change, and he strangely didn’t mind when the stranger got a feel for it himself, strumming fingers with glittery pink talons underneath his chin.
He didn’t mind. But it was… different.
“I’m Taako. Ya know, from TV? What can we call you, pumpkin?” Lucas rapidly searched the databases he was synced with, finding nothing on ‘TV’ or the towering elf twirling a lock of pink hair that streamed down like a bubblegum waterfall from underneath his impressive hat.
He couldn’t find a response either. Which, in hindsight, simply his name would have been sufficient. But in that moment it didn’t come to mind, or anything else, he simply could not think. And that was terrifying.
He was a machine, and he couldn’t think.
And that meant something was wrong.
Was he short circuiting? Defragging?
The breadth of his silence was only seconds long, but that was still embarrassingly long to squirm underneath the elf’s honey soaked eyes. Not that Taako seemed to mind, his lips stretching wider as the android sat stunned, mouth uselessly open as it attempted to form words.
Thankfully, and also very much not, the fighter beat him to the task. “Whoooa,” Magnus gasped, rushing up behind his much bolder friend, “Dude, are you a robot?”
“Damn, nothing gets past you,” Taako sneered, surprisingly the android even further. He’s defending me?
Lucas finally sat up properly, his inner cords tucked back and sealed within his chest with as much discretion as possible. “Yes, I am. I'm Lucas Miller.” Dark rings widened and swirled around earthy brown irises, imprinting the mortal's faces to memory. “I’m Dr. Maureen Miller’s son, in a... sense. And her assistant.”
“I could use an assistant.” Taako shot back, delighted by the way the android seem to gawk again, the clicks and whirls that hummed from deep within his chest. “Maybe I could convince you to do some moonlighting for me, hmmmmm Miller?”
“Um..?”
Filler words chimed across the room from both android and tour guide, Pringles standing in the doorway, shifting uncomfortably between his large feet. “So uh, can I finish showing you guys around…?” A proposal Lucas did not find disagreeable, his internal core flaring with blistering heat and fans beginning to wheeze.
Magnus didn’t seem to hate the idea either, nor the clearly unsettled dwarf still standing by the halfling. The only person unphased by the display was the shameless elf himself, the master of calm and collected and completely bored.
“Yeah fine whatever, let’s keep the snooze train rollin’. But I’ll be seein’ you later, Miller~”
A sharp nail poked Lucas right on the tip of his nose, the wizard’s fingers wiggled in a ‘tah tah’ motion as he strolled away. The android watched dumbfounded as he departed, lightly grazing the same spot he’d been touched, his other hand mimicking the curious farewell. Suddenly hyper aware of the electricity flowing beneath polymer and steel.
Back out in the hallway the reclaimers eyed their elven companion, less kind in the way they looked without the uncanny valley staring back at them. “Uh,” Magnus winced, uncertain how to phrase his words, “Were you... hitting on that robot, Taako?”
“God damn Jessica Fletcher, you’re on fuckin' fire tonight.” The back of a perfectly manicured hand slapped the fighter’s chest. “I know we just met bubbeleh, so lemme break down Taako’s type. One, cute guys. Two, cute guys who won’t catch feels for me. Robots don’t have feelings. So yeah, I’m calling dibs. You feel me?”
“I... guess?” It was clear that Magnus didn’t, but he supposed it didn’t matter whether or not he got it. “Just don’t stick any magnets on him.”
“Or invite him back to our place," Merle groused, looking back suspiciously over his shoulder, "He might find Big Guy's arm collection and kill us all in our sleep for vengeance."
“Oh my gods you’re so right.”
“Guys, seriously? Come on.” Taako sighed. “I’m obviously gonna make him take me back to his cool flying lab. Fuckin' keep up.”
Up ahead of the trio Pringles groaned, counting down the hours until the end of his shift. “I’m gonna need way more weed if I’m rooming with you guys.”
---
“... Mom?”
The small flame flowing from the scientist’s welder flickered out, her current project paused as she turned to her surprisingly nervous son. Which was enough to catch her attention. Lucas had the mechanisms to make facial expressions, but it was rare to see him emote anything other than, well, annoyance. “Is something wrong, honey?”
“Yes? No. I’m not…?” Another chorus of wheezes spilled from his speakers, hands twisting in the fabric of his lab coat. Maureen was already moving closer, gloved hands gently cupping his cheeks. “I... want to make some modifications. To myself.” He finally managed, voice small and full of uncertainty. This gave his mother pause, her head craned back to study him with warmth.
“Oh, honey, of course. You can do whatever you want with yourself. It’s your body, remember?”
Lucas nodded, uncertain how to continue, uncertain what he precisely wanted. “I think I’d like to… widen my emotional capacity? Like… I want to feel more. Could you help me?”
“Of course, I’m Maureen Miller.” The scientist preened, patting her son’s cheeks before stepping back to her desk, her prior task abandoned as she began rapidly typing on her keyboard. From the corner of her eye she watched Lucas take a nearby seat, unable to hide her curious gleam. “So, why the sudden interest? Did someone catch my baby’s eye?”
“You built me thirty two years ago, I am not a baby. It just sounds interesting. It’s an experiment.” Lucas huffed, saying no more on the matter. Nor did Maureen push, the only sound between them the comfortable clicking of keys. But occasionally she glimpsed to her right, catching her son with a small, quiet smiling. Lost in his thoughts.
Interesting.