Madman And Machine [Mim&Leon]

[Madam Mim]

Left foot. Right foot. Left foot. Right foot. It was still a conscious process for her, but it got easier the more she did it. Tilt head. Smile. Funny thing, smiling: you had to show all your teeth, but only in the correct circumstances. She didn't know whether this was the correct circumstances, but people on the street seemed to be responding. Left foot. Right foot. The parasol was useless, of course. Her skin could become neither burned nor tanned, but this appeared to "be the fashion," as he had put it. What that meant she had yet to learn. A man shifted his body between her and the woman he was with and she pulled her lips back to smile more widely. It seemed as though the wider you grinned, the happier you must be to see someone. She wasn't certain how closely she could approximate the sensation of happiness, but it seemed to be a cornerstone of London society, from what she'd learned.
Amber eyes which seemed to glow if you looked too closely--or if it was dark--stared disconcertingly from above the smile which never reached her eyes. Left foot. Right foot.

"How do you do?" Widget turned her smile to a woman with exposed, ripped stockings and worn-down shoes who was leaning against a brick wall as they passed.

"You wot?" she demanded around the cigarette hanging loosely from her lips, straightening a little and throwing her chest out. Widget didn't detect the aggression in her stance, but stopped and inclined her head the way she had been shown.

"How do you do?" she repeated in the same tone and cadence, still grinning. The woman's dress sagged off of her shoulders and she pushed off the wall, slouching toward them.

"So yer wanna 'ave a go, do yer?" the woman demanded. "Fink yer better'n me wiv yer fancy clothes an' yer fancy gent, hm?" She jerked her chin toward Master. "If you'da been done the same wrongs wot I been done, you'd be in the 'zackt same place 's me. Dun fink you wouldn'."

Widget tilted her head, unsure how to respond. This was not something he had prepared her for. "All I said was 'how do you do,'" she finally replied before moving on, leaving the bedraggled whore shrieking impotently at their backs, aware that if she'd torn a society lady's face of like she threatened to do there would have been coppers on her like that. Left foot.
Right foot. Widget tilted her head to look at her companion, her gears clicking as she attempted to work out what had just happened. Even so the entire time she grinned in her best attempt at politeness, unblinking.

"I'm not sure why you've brought me out, Master," she admitted after a few moment's thought. Right foot. Right foo--no. Left foot. Right foot.
"You don't want me to be discovered for what I am, and yet you insist on teaching me these 'manners' and taking me out for walks. I'm afraid I don't see the point. If you would rather me not be seen, I would just as much rather not go out." It wasn't that she wasn't enjoying herself. She didn't have the capacity to enjoy walks, not yet anyway, but inasmuch as she could she didn't entirely mind them. But if Master didn't want her coming outside, she wasn't sure why he brought her out anyway.

"We've been sent beautiful weather, haven't we, Master?" Widget said suddenly, turning her uncanny smile and unblinking stare onto him from beneath her parasol. "Was that good 'small talk,' Master?"

 

[Leon]

It was a fair day for a stroll and it was an even greater time for him to finally bring about a bit of nuance to his life. Even if that very idea would surely break the feeble minds if ever they knew. But, that was something that made the experiment all the more tantalizing. The first time seeing his project in full view outside the manor, in an area that was full of unknowns and the ability to fail. Failure gave him more answers than success would, though, with those very failures, there was the very dire risk. For himself and that of which he had created. Lachland's top hat stayed positioned on the top of his head in an almost effortless manner, as if it was built for him and him alone. The cane would tap against the ground as they walked, every other step would cause a light tap against the cobblestone. His gaze unyielding as he would look to his female compatriot every so often, as if any moment she might snap under her own weight.

She was doing well, that much was sure but that was just for the common things, walking was easy enough to understand but when you begin to add more and more tasks to this, he was sure that she was more than capable. She would greet a wrench as she was told to do in any other situation but, the woman seemingly did not like the idea of being a part of civilized conversation. Lachland would not speak, simply watch as the woman would begin to rant, as she motioned toward him, the idea would striking her came to mind but he wouldn't waste the stamina.

"Let us be along." Was the only reply he would give Widget as she seemingly aimed to figure out what it was she did wrong. "Some of us just don't know the meaning of courtesy. Lost causes, the lot of em." He would let his attention toward her once more, the smile was alright, normal but something was definitely off. As they continued onward, Widget would speak, questioning just what it was they were doing outside, the idea of being caught would surely mean the end of them.

He would keep his attention forward whilst speaking to her. "No, no, my dear. You were not created to be a glorified fixture. You are to be my crowning achievement in this life. To have you mix and mingle with the common rabble and move your way up. To imitate the very idea of humanity but, greater." He went back to thinking just what it was that was wrong with her face. Surely there wasn't anything out of place, he wouldn't be so foolish. What was it? She spoke of the weather he would stop and turn toward her.

"That is sufficient, ideal to start a conversation but do you have a follow up? And remember, when we are out and about, address me as Lachland. Master is only for the confines of the house. Now..." He would stare at her, bringing his cane in front of him as he would snap his fingers, as if to call attention to his own eyes. Those amber eyes seemed to have a glow to them but it wasn't it. There was something more or actually, something that wasn't happening as they would stare into his soul as he pondered. That was it! "Widget, blink."

 

[Madam Mim]

Master assured her that she wasn't the one who had done anything wrong in her interaction with the street woman. He had taught her common courtesy, and apparently no one had taught the woman the same. It didn't occur to Widget, as it didn't seem to occur to him, that she had been perceived as rude and condescending. It also didn't occur to her that this mixing with whores--she hadn't been taught yet about social classes, nor about prostitutes--might bring scandal upon her or her master, should anyone recognize him. Master assured her that he didn't want to keep her hidden away indoors and she nodded.

"I shall become greater than humanity, then," she affirmed. Left foot. Right foot. It was becoming easier to delegate that process to background noise. Widget made an attempt at small talk and was pleased to know she had succeeded. When Master asked whether she had a follow up, she thought for a minute. "It is not raining," she attempted, though the sky was dull and cloudy, "and you look very handsome today, Master." She didn't know what it meant to not look handsome. All Widget knew was that she found his sharp cheekbones and tall, narrow stature aesthetically correct, and that he seemed pleased when she said that he was handsome. And whether it was successfully imitating then surpassing humanity or telling him he looked handsome, that was the point, wasn't it? To please Master?

"And remember, when we are out and about, address me as Lachland. Master is only for the confines of the house," he reminded her and she nodded.

"Yes, Lachland," she assented, her manic grin not moving as they stopped and he stared at her. Widget stared back, her eyes boring into his, lips unmoving, teeth exposed, smile never reaching her eyes. Master Lachland ordered her to blink and she tilted her head again. "Blink? I'm sorry, Lachland...I don't understand." She understood what blinking was, of course, but she didn't understand why it was done or why she specifically had to do it. She had also privately tried blinking once or twice, and had wound up with her eyes closed for five minutes; the nuances of blinking still escaped her.

 

[Leon]

The number of things that he still needed to teach her were far beyond the time in a single day. Being able to predict just who or what she would come into contact with on any given day was a hassle in itself. Though, he wasn't rightly sure how to take a whore of all people into account. They were just so needy and disgusting, he would rather not include them in any study to begin with but that was not his way. If he had to get his hands dirty, then dirty they would get.

Her agreeing to him would cause a nod in affirmation. "Greater indeed." She was his magnum opus in the making, becoming more and more perfect with each new discovery. When she gave him a continuation to his question, he would simply stop but thought that with common folk, it wasn't a bad starter. "Acceptable but we'll have to work more on that." When she added that his appearance was rather dapper, he would be unable to contain himself as there was a slight shift in the corner of his lips.

Vanity was a sin that he would surely find himself in hell for. He was a man that was already in the process of making a being that surpassed the creation of god so why bother worrying about ethics?

His name was just as well placed on the air to find his ears though with the problem at hand, it was a lack luster exchange. "You need to blink. It is on the same level as walking. Every person does it. Eye lids open and then shut. Any person watching you would notice and it makes you seem...off in the head."

 

[Madam Mim]

Widget listened to his instructions then attempted it. It was a slow blink, one that didn't appear to be a natural and unconscious one like that of humans, but it was better than her previous attempts. "Did I do it?" she asked eagerly. "I'm afraid I don't understand the purpose of blinking, Lachland. It seems to be a superfluous process." Still she practiced it again, faster this time. Too fast. "I am not off in the head though. We checked all of my gears and neural processes before we left the house.

Even if she knew it was for lubrication, she still wouldn't understand. Master had designed her with lubrication in mind, without the need for blinking. In addition to the soft, supple synthetic skin covering the rest of her body the same material lined the inside of her oral, vaginal, and anal cavities. Each orifice was lined with what could only be described as tiny glands which excreted mineral oil every now and then to keep each orifice lubricated but not dripping. Master had explained that this was to help her further mimic humans, but she had yet to understand why. As far as she could tell her mouth was useful with or without lubrication, and the other orifices didn't seem to have an inherent use.

"Williams! Williams, is that you old boy?" A corpulent old man with an impressive handlebar mustache crossed the street to meet them, accompanied by two younger men. Colonel Tate wrung his hand jovially. "It's been ages since we've seen you, man! Whatever have you been up to? And who is this delightful creature on your arm, hm?"

"I'm Widget. How do you do?" She turned her manic smile to the old man and by sheer luck managed a blink which seemed to be just the right length.

 

[Leon]

Lachland would watch as his creation would attempt to follow through with the actions he had demanded. Though as she did it, she was eager to please but that wasn't what he desired. He wanted progress and while it was an improvement, it was not what he wanted. "Not quite, that was too slow." He would watch her intently as she continued on, speaking of how it was a process unneeded by one such as herself. "Humans use it to moisten their eyes and if we want them to think you are one, it is a process you must learn to accomplish."

She would try once more though this time, he saw next to no difference but he was sure she did try it. "What? No, slower I barely even saw your eyelids move that time." Lachland's eyes would blink several times, normal time lapses for a person whilst he usually took a bit, he was aiming to make her closer to what one would find as 'normal'. "We want people to think you are human. It'll make them more comfortable and that is my end goal for the time being."

A sigh would escape his lips as she spoke of them having made sure everything was in place before they had left. "It is a phase that people use. It is used to describe simple people, stupid or dumb. It is something that would be considered an insult." He would let his attention break away from her as he heard his name called from across the street. A hefty old man would cross the street with two men in toe.

Lachland would let his posture straighten, a hand would raise itself up to tip his hat. "Mister Tate, it is always a pleasure." He would be rather pleased at Widget as she would nail the blinking to a norm, at least for the time being. "She's a friend of the family, showing her the sights. And whom are these strapping young lads you have tailing you?"

 

[Madam Mim]

"If my occular receptors require lubrication, why not use mineral oil as you have in my orifices?" Widget asked, attempting blinking again. "Why do humans not try that?" She was trying to help, but before Lachland could explain to her that it was a biological function they were interrupted by Colonel Tate crossing the road to meet them.

"How do you do, Miss erm...Widget you said it was?" Colonel Tate looked confused as he bent to kiss her hand. "Odd name, that," he mumbled, but Widget's sharp hearing picked up on it anyway.

"It's the name that was given to me," she said, still smiling disconcertingly.

"She's a family friend, showing her the sights," Lachland explained, taking the undivided attention off of the automaton. "And whom are these strapping young lads you have tailing you?"

"Ah yes!" The colonel waved the gentlemen forward. Both appeared to be in their early twenties, fresh-faced and eager to prove themselves to society. "My nephews, Henry Farlington and his brother Edward. They're in town to learn the trade, and I'm teaching them every trick in the book." Since his retirement Colonel Tate's business had been textiles and trade, mostly, and it was unclear which the young men were supposed to be learning.

"A pleasure to meet you, Mister Williams," Henry said, stepping forward and shaking Lachland's hand before taking Widget's to kiss it. "And you, Miss um...?"

"Widget," she reminded them. Even if she had understood the use of surnames, Master had never given her one.

"Miss Widget." He smiled nervously. Her stare was a little unnerving, but refreshing for a woman of society. Most of them cast their eyes down and fluttered their fans demurely and he could never quite tell whether they were addressing him or the ground. Even so, if this Williams had no use of her and she was truly only a friend, he and his brother had need of wives, if nothing else to stop their mother's nagging. She was pretty enough, if there were no other ladies of sufficient standing interested.

"Have you been in town long?" Edward asked after echoing his brother's greetings to Williams and Widget.

"This is my first walk out in town," she said politely, her smile never wavering.

 

[Leon]

Lachland would continue to smile his seemingly ever lasting smile, one that he would put on from time to time, usually when out and about. The Colonel would remark about Widget's name to which she would so justly remark that it was her given name. The ability to keep a conversation was something he would surely have to do when they returned home.

He would then let his attention turn toward the two younger gentlemen, Henry and Edward as they were called. Lachland would look to Colonel yet again, an appearance of enjoyment crossed his lips. "If they find a tutor in you, they will become fine businessmen." He would turn to Henry, tilting his head forward in a show of respect and acknowledgement. "The pleasure is all mine."

He would look toward Widget, mostly her hand and then toward Henry. While his wish was for her to become more human, the sight of her being touched was unsettling on a small scale.

It was then that Edward would chime into the conversation about them being on the town. Shortly after Widget would finish, Lachland would have it followed by his own. "She's from the country side. They don't have much and the cobblestone of the town is a new experience for her. I am aiming to ease her into the city life, step by step."

He had come up with a fairy tail that would give the best excuses for what may or may not happen whilst they were in the company of others. He did not think of everything but he felt himself smart enough for most occasions to spin a lie or two if need be. He would let his hand come to rest on Widget's shoulder. "She is a rather remarkable woman and I just couldn't let her sit at home all day, so here we are."

 

[Madam Mim]

"Remarkable indeed," Henry agreed amiably. "If you wish to ease her into city life step-by-step, as you put it, why not make it a dance step? We're hosting a party a fortnight hence; I'd be absolutely chuffed if you both could come."

"I would be delighted." Having only interacted with Lachland and Perkins, the manservant, Widget had never had cause to deny a request. She therefore accepted automatically, without consulting her Master on his wishes.

"Wonderful!" Edward put in. "We'll introduce you to all the best people."

"Yes, yes, very good," the Colonel put in, irritated that his conversation had been hijacked by the two young bucks. "In the meantime Williams, it's been too long. Stop by the club this evening, will you? Brandy, cigars, cards...you must tell us what you've been up to with this lovely young woman." After securing Lachland's promise that he would come, Tate ushered off his nephews to an appointment they were now running late for. Widget tilted her head again in something which imitated curiosity and watched after them.

"Ought I learn to dance, Mas-- Lachland?" she inquired, turning her piercing gaze to him. "I was practicing blinking throughout that conversation. Did I do well?"

 

[Leon]

Henry would bring about the idea that a gala would surely be the best if they wished for her to integrate into society. Before Lochland could even get a word in edge wise, Widget would put herself forward on her own accord. His eyes would shift and fall onto her in a bit of surprise and bewilderment, though it would soon return to the normal stare as the one he had prior.

He would look back to Henry and then to Edward with a nod. "We would be delighted." The Colonel would offer him an invitation to come to a club and seemed like he was not planning on taking no for an answer. "That sounds like a grand time, you will be seeing me there."

Lachland would watch as the Colonel would leave with his family in toe, giving a soft wave to bid them farewell. Widget would speak about dancing and that she had put her blinking into practice the entire time. "Yes. It isn't the best time but it was sure to happen eventually." He was both happy that she had put forth the effort on her own accord but at the same time, he wasn't sure if he felt it as progress or not.

"You were doing quite well. Now, you have to make sure that you continue it when no one is around. The more you do, the better you will get at it. Now..." He would pull up his arm to retrieve the pocket watch from his pocket. "We will have to get on that dancing if you are to look the proper lady at the event and now I have to deal with Colonel Tate this evening as well...lives small inconveniences. Come."

He place the watch back into its pocket and rose his arm for her to take. They needed to get back in order to get themselves ready for the events to come and maybe do some tweaking when time permitted.

 

[Madam Mim]

"I am pleased that you seem satisfied with my improvement," Widget said chipperly, "but I will do as you say and keep practicing." She immediately proceeded to set a process to practice blinking, and blinked six times a minute for the next fourteen hours.

"Will two weeks be sufficient time to teach me how to dance, Master?" Widget asked as they walked up the steps to their home. The door opened without Lachland needing to reach for his key and Perkins took his coat and hat. "Good afternoon, Mister Perkins," she greeted him as she had been taught. He had been there to see her born, but had never seemed to think of her in the same way that Master did. He always referred to her as "Master Lachland's toy." This evening was no different: he sniffed and grudgingly took her coat before turning to his employer.

"Good afternoon, Master Lachland," he greeted, not addressing Widget. "Will you be taking your tea in the study as usual? Or in the laboratory today?" After receiving his orders he gave a short, stiff bow and set off down the hall, his heels clicking sharply on the dark wood floors.

Widget watched after him, then followed Lachland wherever he might lead. "Colonel Tate said he wanted to see you this evening," she pointed out, eagerly following him, "but it's only one o'clock now. Are we to spend the next few hours dancing? Or did you want to examine my gears? Or is there something you would like for me to do for you?" She had been created, after all, to be a servant. Her impetus was to serve.

 

[Leon]

Lachland expected nothing less from Widget than the will to be better. To be better than those around her and he was sure that, in time, that wouldn't be an issue. This was just as a child would be, to be taught everything from the ground up, for diligent work to be rewarded with a being that will surely bring him the utmost joy.

"I am. You will need to be able to make your own decisions in time and who am I to block progress." He had no need for doubts as they were nothing more than trapdoors for failure. He must strive ever forward and never look back.

"It will be plenty of time my dear. You are a quick study and while I am not the best teacher, I will make you the woman of the hour when the time comes." The door would open as it always had with Perkins there to greet them, Lachland handing his accessories to Perkins to put away. "A good afternoon indeed Perkins."

The day had started to fill itself quite well and with more stacking, Lachland was finding it more and more interesting to multitask as he would usually do. He felt himself more into matters when he did this, making a train of ideas and tasks. "The laboratory Perkins. I've plenty to do before having to go out once again."

Lachland would begin his way through the halls with Widget in toe. "I think that a little of everything would get my mind bubbling." He would come to a stop in front of a bookshelf that he would await Widget to pull open for them to enter into his laboratory.

The laboratory itself was seemingly the larger portion of the house on the inside. It was just a large room that had rows upon rows of books along one wall. Vials and concoctions along another with parts that looked to be human in nature but had a sheen of iron and metal upon them. A large table sat in the middle of the room which had seen many a failure and few successes, his greatest walking with him.

 

[Madam Mim]

"My own decisions?" The smallest of frowns creased Widget's features for a brief moment before she followed Master into the house. "But I was made to serve. You told me so."

The idea was a strange one to her, one which occupied some of her processing power as they greeted Perkins then crossed into the parlor. Master stopped in front of the bookshelf and waited for Widget, with her superhuman strength, to move it aside for him. She did so easily, even with the shelves loaded with heavy tomes, and closed it after them. There was a lever for Perkins to pull, or for Master if ever she wasn't with him when he needed to get into the laboratory. When he was not teaching her how to be human or testing her out, Widget spent most of her time in the laboratory either recharging the generator hidden in the small of her back or reading one of the many, many books. It was her room, of sorts, as well as Master's workspace.

Without being told Widget stripped from her dress and undergarments, folding them neatly over the back of a chair, and walked over to the table in the middle of the room. Naked, she slid up onto it, her feet dangling a few feet from the floor, and waited for Master to approach. It was often but not always his custom to examine her and make a few adjustments whenever he had her out for extended periods of time.

"What improvements do you think could be made, Master?" she asked eagerly, still practicing her blinking at disturbingly regular intervals. Her smile, manic before, looked a bit more genuine when she turned it to him. She did not understand human customs, but inasmuch as she was able to feel happy she felt happy when she looked at him. It pleased her to please him and she was more able to approximate the organic muscle movements of a genuine smile.

 

[Leon]

"And I stand by that statement. You will serve me in this as well. To be able to do things without me having to guide you to them. To make your own judgement calls to better my life and in turn, your own." He would say these things to her as he began to roll up his sleeves, walking through the bookcase as if her strength was the norm.

Lachland loved the smell of his place of work, it gave him such a rush. Others enjoyed the smell of trees in the spring or the smell of the rain but he, he loved the smell of progress. There was nothing that he found more entertaining than that of science.

Once he had his sleeves rolled up properly and tightly, he would walk over to the table and pull a screwdriver of sorts from a shelf. Lachland would stand before her, looking her body over for any sort of inconsistency. He would begin to tap his chin as she would begin to speak about just what kind of things he had in mind.

He would move closer, placing a hand onto his chin and looking into her eyes, shifting his gaze between them each for longer than a moment. "I think that I might be able to make the blinking process go a bit smoother with a tweak."

The color of her eyes were unusual but he could not come to change them. It would be simple to give them a dirty brown or a vibrant blue but every time he had committed himself to the idea, one gaze into those amber orbs would quickly withdraw the motion. She was special in every since of the word and why not let the world see her as such.

"A rare marvel." He would let the words slip from his lips in a low whisper.

 

[Madam Mim]

Widget caught the whisper and leaned in the way she had seen a young couple do on the corner as they had walked home. "You've said so before, Master," she returned in the same low whisper, smiling before straightening.

"You were thinking about changing my eyes again, weren't you?" she asked, moving her hair to one side to expose the access panel behind her ear. She had to peel away some of her synthetic skin--made from a soft leather which, if she guessed right, felt like soft human skin though she didn't have a sense of touch to confirm her suspicions--to reveal the hatch which hid the clockwork and gears inside. "You always get that look when you think about it," she added. "I wouldn't mind, you know. It makes no difference to me what my eyes look like."

She knew he wouldn't change her, though. Master had in the past made adjustments to the way she walked, the way she talked, how she functioned from day to day, and even how she was powered...but he had never changed her hair or her eyes or any of the superficial details about her, like how she looked. It was as though he thought that that part couldn't be improved. She didn't understand that, or why she thought about it with some sense of approval.

"My internal gyroscope felt like it could use tuning up, too," Widget informed him as he rummaged around her cranial gears. "I was steady enough walking at a slow place on cobblestones, but if I had to move more quickly I'm not sure I would be able to properly balance."

 

[Leon]

He would let his eyes glance over her as she called him out on his words. "You've caught me again." He would lean forward, looking over her shoulder to the spot where she revealed the panel just beyond the ear. He would place a hand onto to the would-be skin, letting his thumb slide across it several times as if to make sure it had not lost its feel.

Lachland would place the driver into his mouth as he adjusted his hands against the side of her head, glancing around at the inner workings, each movement ticking away, every piece had a purpose. "But I would mind, in the end. It is just a scientist mind to wander on what ifs. Then I actually see you and it would be a travesty and I just can't bring myself to do it." He would then slide the thin piece of metal into the side of her head, making sure not to touch the moving pieces.

Widget's body was something that, no matter how much he thought of it, was perfect in his eyes. It was hard to find fault in perfection, though everyone would try and he was no exception to this. Though, just because he looked for it, did not mean that it was there and he was reminded each time he looked at her.

She would speak to him as he would adjust the tightness of one gear only to shift to another and loosen it. "Well, I would hate to have you topple over at the wrong time." He would then pull the screwdriver from the hole, placing it under his arm as he would move closer to try and take a closer look within her head. "Heaven's. Every time I see you, it is breathtaking." The scope of his genus before him, time and time again filled him with such joy and pleasure.

"Let me get more tools so we can work on that gyro." He would place the screwdriver down onto the table, turning around to walk over to another bench, taking hold of a leather roll and unfolding it to reveal the many different drivers, screws and bars. Each had seen work and it showed with pride. He would take hold of a longer bar and a pair of iron clamps.

 

[Madam Mim]

"I'm glad you find me aesthetically pleasing, Master," Widget said with a note of approval and contentment. "I find you aesthetically pleasing, too. You have very symmetrical features." Symmetrical features, she had surmised, was valued as attractive among humans. Therefore she had come to assess people--whether in pictures or passing by the window, or out on their very first walk today--in terms of symmetry. There were a number of people she had seen who had symmetrical features, but none so symmetrical as Master.

She felt her processing shift ever-so-slightly as he toyed around with gears, and smiled when he called her breathtaking. That it was a natural smile that an actual human woman might make may have been a result of the gear tightening, or it may have been natural learning. She wasn't certain. Master leaned in to examine the gears more closely, then mentioned re-calibrating her gyroscope. While he was busy finding the tools he needed Widget curled her fingertips under the edge of the skin behind her ear and gently pulled. What could have properly been called her scalp lifted away from her skull, leaving her face covered with skin and revealing the labyrinth of gears, tubes, and wires which made up her brain. She set the scalp on the table next to her, careful not to muss her hair, and tilted her chin down to rest on her chest so he could reach the glistening gyroscope set just above the nape of her neck.

"Apart from the balance issue I didn't detect any further problems," Widget reported dutifully. "I think from here on out it may just be minor adjustments and a matter of learning!"

 

[Leon]

There would be a moment of pause as Lachland listened to Widget's complement. He didn't care much for complements, they usually held some sort of hidden meaning, some alternative motive. Though, Widget had no such thing, the best word that came to mind was pure. She said what she wished with no reason to say otherwise. This was both a good and bad thing but for the time, it was a welcome complement. "Thank you Widget."

As he would look down at the tools, his attention would come to the movement of her head. The scalp coming to set on a table near her. Lachland would listen as she stated she didn't think there were any other problems than the ones she stated. He would come to move himself behind her, the larger scope of the inner workings becoming open to him.

He was sure that if any normal human being were to witness this, they would surely lose their minds. Possibly even become hostile but that was far from Lachland. While her skin was made to be perfection, he did so enjoy what was inside. It was a popular saying and it held truest for him most of all.

He would take another moment, simply watching one part click against another, shifting a gear there and a cog turning here. He would snap back into the right state of mind, using the clamps to take hold of what would be the top of her spine, using his other hand to wield his tool of choice.

"That is wonderful to hear. So..." He would begin his tweaking but he felt conversation eased his hands. "What did you think of Colonel Tate and his nephews? Did they leave an impression on you?" He would tilt his head as if to look over her shoulder. "I think you may have left one on them if I were to guess."

 

[Madam Mim]

"They were nice men," Widget responded when Master asked her what she thought of the men they had met on their walk. Several gears shifted and turned in a process which she was proud was automatic; it indicated an intent to shrug if her holding still hadn't been so vital to Master's improvements. "Colonel Tate seemed unsettled by me, though. When humans are genuine their smiles are wide and their eyes get skin folds around them, but his never did. Mister Henry Farlington seemed to like me, though, and he was kind to invite me to the party. Mister Edward Farlington did not make much of an impression on me," she admitted. "He was quiet, and we did not talk with them for very long."

She waited a beat, and the gears in Widgets brain were turning as she accessed memories of Master's lessons in making conversation. When in doubt, he had said, turn the question back on them. After considering several options, she decided that this was her best one for this particular conversation.

"Did they leave an impression on you?" Widget returned. "And what sort of impression do you think I've left on them? I hope they do not realize that I am not human. That would be a dreadful failure of my purpose, would it not?"

 

[Leon]

Lachland would turn back to the task at hand and watched meticulously at the gears, memorized at the complexity within her frame but more so that he knew them all by heart. Each gear put magnificently into place with careful hands. He would listen as he continued to twist his wrist, turning a screw in order to tighten its fit. She questioned the Colonel's judgements toward her, knowing he put on airs from his facial expressions alone. Henry seemed smitten with her with his young mind all aflutter with anything that would look his way. Edward was left impressionless with nothing to go off of due to the limited interaction.

He would move to another cog, pressing against it to make sure it did not move when he did so when she asked him what he thought. "Well, the Colonel is a cautious man to his core. He does not do well with different things, you are as different as they come my dear." He would shift his hand around to move to another gear. "The young Henry seemed quite enthralled by your very being, hoping you would throw him a word to hang on for the rest of his day." He would turn his nose up as if to get a better sight of the gyro at such an angle. "The young mister Edward seemed either frightened to speak to a lady or does not do well in conversations." He would pull out the driver and place it onto the table as he would move a finger along the metal of her spine just below the gyro.

"They were surely none the wiser Widget. You were just as you should have been. The epitome of a lady, played to the tune of further progress and perfection." He would slide his hand up and rub his hands together in the marvel of all that had come to pass. She had interacted with actual people, made minimal errors and even they were progress as she worked well in correcting them. All the things he had hoped for and more brought him such elation. "You will be the talk of the ball when it arrives, that I will assure you Widget. Now, I think the appropriate adjustments have been made."

 

[Madam Mim]

"I can appreciate that Mister Edward Farlington may not do well in conversations," Widget said. "I myself feel as though I often do not do well in conversation, but it's something that I'm working on. But I'm afraid I don't understand, Master. What did you mean, Mister Henry Farlington hopes that I would throw him a word to hang on? One can neither throw nor hang upon words."

Master announced that all of the appropriate adjustments had been made and she lifted her chin from her chest, rolling her shoulders back before reaching up and carefully closing her skull and replacing her scalp. Looking over her shoulder, she smiled at Lachland. Although everything was operational and they had done what they had come into the laboratory to do, she found herself not wanting him to leave. Searching for a topic, she offered,

"Is there any way I can further assist you, Master?"

 

[Leon]

"And that is all you have to do my dear, work and you shall succeed. That is how you were made." He would turn around as she would take his words in a literal sense as the very idea of throwing words or anything of a similar nature was beyond her. He would place his tool onto the table as he rummaged his brain for the right set of words to best explain. "Well, I would have to say the boy fancies you Widget. He was rather smitten to have you pay him any sort of attention and a kind word or two from you would have surely made his evening. Possibly given him quite the week if he were to be so lucky." Lachland would look down at the backs of his hands to see if he had gotten any unwanted grease on himself before turning back to her.

Wishing to help him in some way, he would ponder the idea as anything that would come to mind wouldn't be so terrible. He would then walk around the table and come only a few feet from her, looking her from the top of her head to the base of her feet. A hand would come to rest against the bottom of his chin as if he were to think something over in the deep recesses of his mind. "Actually, stand up straight would you Widget. Then come here. All of this talk of young boys and their fancies has been curious about your overall sexual appeal."

 

[Madam Mim]

"Smitten?" Widget tilted her head in her usual way when she didn't quite understand something, then straightened again once she had located the definition of the word. It was synonymous with "to fancy," it seemed, and in either case she didn't understand why. "But he does not know me. Do humans not have to know one another very well before they fall in love?" With a pause, her mouth formed an 'o' of realization and she nodded. "Oh, it's love at first sight," she said, a literal lightbulb coming on, though now that her skull was closed and her scalp replaced it was impossible to see. "Like Colonel Brandon and Marianne Dashwood. Or the Little Mermaid." She thought about this and frowned, reflecting upon other love at first sight novels she had read--and she had read many of them--then looked at Master. "Love at first sight does not seem to end very well much of the time. Ought I warn Mister Henry Farlington of this so that he can avoid it?"

Obediently she stood when ordered and waked toward him. To assist him in assessing her sexual appeal, she reached up and pulled several pins from her hair, setting them aside and allowing dark, curly hair to cascade to her hips as it had when she had first come to consciousness. Widget stood with her feet a hips-width apart, unselfconscious as Lachland appraised her from every angle. She was slender but not too thin, with her breasts and hips swelling in just the right places, perfectly proportional to her waist. Her breasts were round and firm, pert, with nipples which were perpetually puckered to hardness as though she were always cold or aroused. They weren't preposterously large, nor were they small; large enough to be attractive and a slightly above-average endowment than most women. Her body was free of body hair below the neck, never having had it in the first place. Her hands and feet were dainty enough to be lady-like but not so dainty that they would be a hindrance in coordination or everyday maneuvering, and her arms and legs were finely-shaped, with her strong-looking thighs fitting proportionally to her wide hips and pert, finely-shaped ass. Each orifice was perpetually lubricated with mineral oil. Lachland had, in other words, built an ideal companion for lonely evenings.

"Is there anything you would like me to do to demonstrate or improve my sexual desirability, Master?" Widget asked, eager to please. After some thought, she asked, "Master...can I fall in love at first sight? Or, rather, can I fall in love at all?"