Well, this might not be so bad, Ayira thought, surveying her room. Her first action had been unpacking and setting everything in the place she deemed rightful. Her bed was neatly made, her books (mostly bearing titles like "Preparing for the Singularity" and "100 Facts About Robotics") were shelved in some arcane system that probably only Ayira herself could understand, her high-power desktop (which she built and modified herself) was in its place on the desk, and its drawers were already stuffed with miscellaneous objects that could only be described as "gadgets" by anyone without a familiarity with robotics. The fact that several of those gadgets served a less practical and more pleasurable function (and were also designed by the young woman surveying her new home) was entirely secret.

Glancing at the identical set of furniture on the other half of her room and hoping she wasn't going to end up with a roommate, Ayira withdrew a folded sheet of paper from one of the deep pockets in her jeans, crossing her arms against the soft, stretchy cotton T-shirt that comfortably hugged her curves as she read the directions on it. She blew out a quiet sigh as she confirmed that she was required to go speak with the counselor to confirm her schedule. Moving was tiring enough without having to deal with more people today.

She brushed a long curl of hair, her natural black for the moment, back from her face and went over to the mirror, her eyes traveling over her reflection critically. Color-wise, the dark orange of her shirt complimented the dark creamy brown of her skin perfectly. Normally, the simple cut would be enough to make her perfectly comfortable, but today, in a place full of unknowns, she toyed with the idea of wearing something less... her brow wrinkled in distaste. Clingy, her mind supplied. She reached for her closet, then stopped, looking defiantly at her reflection. Given her figure, even something much looser would hardly disguise that her curves were, in a word, luscious, that her hips, even beneath the heavy denim and many large pockets of her jeans, gave her the lovely hourglass figure that so many women sought after, and even if her waist wasn't as minute as was currently in fashion, it was still a clean, well-defined line- and that was the only thing a looser shirt would obscure.

I'm in a new place full of people that know nothing about me. I am not going to let them decide my wardrobe for me. So decided, she marched to the office, confirming her schedule and finding, much to her dismay, that there was a uniform that she was required to wear during school hours anyway, and wandered, grumbling inwardly, towards the Robotics Department's supply room. Building something would improve her mood.

Against expectations Ayira found the supply room already occupied. It turned out that supply room was a partial misnomer, since along with the shelves and lockers of assorted tools and machine components there were a number of heavier fabrication machines interspersed among the storage units and a great deal of raised workspace. One of these tables was already in use by a petite woman standing on the metal hoop encircling the legs of a stool, leaning over an assembly of wires. Immediately recognizable were the safety goggles the girl wore, though their sleekness compared to pragmatically bulky, conventional protective eyewear marked them as custom. She wore tailored work gloves as well, not as immaculate as her white apron, and was using them to hold a small soldering gun against a circuit board.

At first the stranger only glanced at Ayira, then returned to her business. A moment later the hot spark of soldering gun died out and Ayira detected a well known odor of fused metal. The girl hopped onto the floor from her precarious position on the stool and stood regarding the gorgeous new arrival with a gloved hand resting on her hip. Ayira and her new acquaintance contrasted vividly, the rich, dark hue of Ayira's skin almost diametrically opposite the other's fair, rarefied complexion. Not herself especially tall, Ayira's eye level hovered inches above the stranger's, and her prominent bust and voluptuous hips were a powerful comment on the waifish beauty in her shadow. Despite being physically overmatched the girl held her ground with an assurance that demanded that Ayira account for her presence, holding herself in an expectant pose. Her gaze was constant and unapologetic, taking in the whole of Ayira as her eyes flitted up and down.

"Hello?" the pale nymph inquired, and flung an arm through her shoulder length blonde tresses. She bit delicately at her bottom lip, betraying interest in the newcomer. "Is there something you want?"

Ayira drew up short when she saw that the supply room was occupied, but was content to leave the other girl to her work. Her gaze swept the room, noting that there was ample workspace for all that the secretary had referred to this as a storage room only. Her eyes returned to the lily-white figure before her, no longer perched on the stool, but standing with an air that suggested a comfortable relationship with authority and made Ayira rethink her assumption that she was just an older student.

She bristled a bit at the once-over the girl gave her, but kept steady eye contact and a polite tone as she answered, "I just wanted to check out some materials and try out the facilities here. Is there an inventory form I need to sign somewhere?" She paused awkwardly for a moment, scanning the room, then added, "Actually, I can see that you were working on something yourself here, so you don't need to worry about showing me around, or anything. I can find my way around myself, and I'll let you get back to your own project." She took a step back from the girl, moving as if to tour the space herself.

The layout of the room seemed simple enough, and she thought she spied a clipboard hanging on a wall between two banks of lockers that might be a sign-up sheet for workroom space, or perhaps a sheet to help the school account for supplies used. She was confident enough of her ability to sort out the room itself; she just hadn't expected to find anyone else here before the start of the semester, and it was making her fumble. Why couldn't the room have just been empty? she grumbled inwardly.

Once Ayira had begun to explore the workspace drew her into it's manifold recesses, its well organized layout nevertheless expansive enough that within steps the room's other occupant was cut off from view. Only a handful of lights remained illuminated, enough to make out the hulking outlines of storage cabinets and to reveal the white tiles of the floor. Ayira could navigate, but the labels marking various cabinets and shelves were difficult to make out, and the general dimness of the interior space gave the impression of abandonment. Utter quite reinforced the unwelcome sense of intrusion into a space not meant to be occupied. Easy enough to forget the other girl. Easy to forget, in fact, that she was in a school at all, instead of some far flung warehouse.

There was a large aluminum shelving unit, enclosed by Plexiglas drawers, containing a range of solenoids representing a significant cross section of the types with which Ayira was familiar. She'd seen it before twice already, unless the unit was only one out of an identical set. Could she have underestimated the size of the storage space? The walls of the room had seemed close by when she had originally entered, but despite her sojourn through the aisles her position relative to them hardly seemed to have changed. A huge silhouette shifted in the corner of Ayira's vision, prompting her to snap her eyes involuntarily in it's direction. No movement whatsoever. However, the alignment of obstacles huddled in a strange configuration, not so regular as they had been during Ayira's wandering, their massive bulk as implacable as boulders in the ebbing twilight.

"Lost?" came a gentle inquiry from behind Ayira, so close she felt the words flutter over the nape of her neck. It was the young woman with the pastel skin, her nymph's face turned sideways curiously as she regarded Ayira with a childlike directness. From such proximity the details of the woman's clothes were more noticeable. Underneath her spotless apron she wore a white blouse and a blue skirt that superficially resembled the standard issue student uniform, but if hers were uniform then they had been significantly altered. Her blouse had the milky shine of silk instead of the opaque white of the usual cotton, and it clung to her figure like vapor, form-fitting but deliberately loose, allowing the scant light to penetrate the material and suggest at the contours of her body in incomplete shades. Her skirt appeared to have a deeper hue than navy blue, and swirled just above her knees. Ayira had seen students in passing, and already she suspected that none of them wore a skirt so fine or so modest. "Sorry if I startled you... you looked perplexed. Should I start by introducing myself?" The nymphlet pressed a gloved palm to her bosom to indicate herself. "My name is...Charlotte. What do I call you?"

Frowning to herself, Ayira poked through the maze of storage units and study nooks, becoming more perplexed and irritated by the moment. She had a fairly decent sense of direction, and if she weren't so tired from her trip (even after her nap on the plane) and the subsequent unpacking, she would swear that the looming, fortress-like walls of cabinetry were waiting until she had turned her back and then moving. Generally being a practical soul, she chalked this rather histrionic notion up to her very long day and kept moving, squinting in the dimness as she peered about for helpful landmarks. The one cheering thing about the situation was the fact that she could tell that the school was very well supplied.

Even this pleasant thought flew from her mind as movement caught the tail of her eye, sharpening her rather worn nerves to an almost painful tension. They nearly snapped a moment later, when the gossamer-fine voice of the room's other occupant, forgotten until now, sounded at an entirely too intimate distance. Ayira spun, startled and further disconcerted to see the girl staring at her unabashedly. She stared back for a moment, taking in the fine cloth that oh-so-delicately hinted at the lovely form that lay beneath their luxurious drape, and belatedly answered, "No, I just got a little turned around, is all. It's my first day here, so..." She shrugged. "I'm Ayira Hansen, anyway."

Ayira glanced around herself once more, brows knitting into a frown before she hopped up onto her tiptoes, her thinly-clad bosom swaying gently right at the other girl's eye level, what with the change in height, as she attempted to peer over the bland, unhelpful faces of the storage units caging her in. "And Charlotte? I don't mean to be rude, but I think I'm finished with my tour today. If you'd point me towards the exit, I'd really appreciate it. It's been a long day, and I just want to go to bed."

The girl who called herself Charlotte dismissed the other's brusque attitude with a shrug and lifted her index finger to point nonchalantly down the aisle where Ayira had been facing a moment ago. She fixed Ayira then with a smile that was sardonic in its blandness, a polite mask betrayed by a condescending stance. Allowing herself to settle backward against one of the large containers she proceeded to twirl a finger through her honeyed locks, apparently disinterested now.

"Mmmhmm. These places can be disorienting for new students." Now Charlotte grinned. Sidling along the bank of cabinetry brought her to Ayira's flank, and she leaned in, slyly fluttering her eyelashes. "You seem eager to leave Ayira. If you're worried about the faculty catching you here you can relax. This place isn't off limits." Charlotte flounced away from the wall and circled behind the darker beauty. She absently reached out, catching Ayira's wrist, spinning her about.

"You'll have to walk a few steps to see it." Charlotte said while retreating a number of paces in demonstration. "But you'll see the exit around this corner here." The waif flung a hand out in the indicated direction. "Maintenance hasn't bothered to activate the main power for this place, since it's the first day, so the sign isn't lit. All the lights will be on by the time classes start, but then there'll be people here most of the time. Not so good for exploring."

During all this Charlotte, actually named Natsuki, was vying for time. Ayira's perceptions of her skirted near the truth; she was neither faculty nor a student. The woman-shaped creature who pretended to be Charlotte had become fascinated by Ayira within moments of her arrival. It was Ayira's misfortune that she arrived wearing a color whose vibrancy enhanced her natural russet complexion, that the loose fit of her jeans did so little to conceal her voluptuous backside, or that she entered the room while Natsuki still inhabited it. If she'd been a few inches shorter, if perhaps her style of beauty was not so uncommon amongst Shokushu's pool of students, if she hadn't been alone and startled when she made Natsuki's acquaintance. Unlucky girl. She'd been stalked ever since she began to wander the storage space, unknowingly being herded in circles as Natsuki extended her essence into the shelving units, animating and rearranging their mass into barriers outside of Ayira's vision. Each innocent step seducing the monster at her heels.

Ayira's desire to leave was steadily increasing, driven now not just by the ache that had set into her muscles from lugging her belongings around but also by the visceral aversion she was developing towards this strange female. The coquettish, vaguely condescending attitude was irksome, but in a way that she could shrug off readily enough. That coupled with her complete ignorance of the concept of personal space, however, was enough to make Ayira's flesh crawl.

In the hopes that maintaining proper decorum would prompt the same courtesy from the impish girl circling her, Ayira kept her reply polite, although her demeanor had cooled slightly. "Thank you, but I was directed here by a secretary. I'm not concerned about being out-of-bounds." That said, she moved as if to follow the path the girl's pointing finger had indicated, stopping short when she felt delicate fingers encircle her wrist, using it as a fulcrum to spin her about.

Frowning openly now, Ayira executed a simple twist she had learned from a friend who had been an enthusiastic martial artist, aiming to free herself from the unwanted contact before she addressed anything else. "I see," Ayira said, holding in her rising temper and the impulse to wipe her wrist against the sturdy denim of her pants. "Well, I was only here to see what I would be working with this year, so that won't be a problem." Honestly, the industrious buzz of a workroom full of people tinkering away at their various projects was one of the few situations in which Ayira enjoyed being in a large group of people; something about the atmosphere of creativity made the press of others bearable when little else could.

Privately hoping this strange girl wouldn't be attending any of her classes, she mustered a polite smile and said, "Well, thank you for your help. I'm sure I can find my own way from here." Brushing back an ebon tendril of hair that fell into her face, the movement at once one of self-consciousness and unconscious grace, Ayira stepped away from "Charlotte" and around the corner that she had pointed out.

There before Ayira as she rounded the metallic was the promised set of double doors, wide open to the hallway outside, whose far wall of which consisted of glass panels to allow for a picturesque view of the campus grounds. An exit sign was affixed to the doorjamb, its ordinary red glow absent, though the abundance of sunlight admitted by the windows should have made locating the exit easy enough in the relatively dim confines of the storage room. Ayira wondered how she hadn’t seen it earlier. She glanced backward to see Charlotte sending her off with an affected little wave, and she moved on expeditiously, her thoughts racing ahead to her dorm room.

Natsuki regarded Ayira’s retreating shadow dourly. Giving a huff as soon as the gorgeous woman had left her sight, she kicked at the leg of a nearby workbench, peevishly recalling how Ayira had snatched her wrist away. The bench hardly budged, giving Natsuki no satisfaction whatsoever. She tried another kick, and then stamped her foot against the tiles in a cute display of pique, but it made no difference. Throwing a more grandiose tantrum was a tempting possibility, but for now she consigned such melodrama to her imagination, nurturing her sense of resentment toward her recently departed guest. She gestured contemptuously at the exit, extending the reach of her essence to the doors and hearing them seal shut behind her in response to her power.

“Leopold!” Natsuki returned to her workspace and seated herself on the lip of the platform with a hop. When she gained no response from the collection of metal pieces littering the countertop she put a finger to her temple and shook her head, annoyed at herself now, then tugged on a white sheet that covered much of the counter. Underneath the cloth a disembodied head sat upright on the flat part of its truncated neck. The head appeared to belong to a human male, handsome in the way certain men are handsome when they reach middle age, having well groomed hair the composition of television static and creases upon his face that created a mien of competence and severity. Natsuki held the head steady by the crown and inserted her pinkie into its right ear. At Natsuki’s second knuckle the head clicked its tongue, abruptly gaining life and expression. It swiveled its eyes searchingly, located Natsuki as she withdrew her finger, and clucked disapprovingly.

“Miss.” The head greeted Natsuki gravely, twitching his lips toward the mechanical detritus encircling him. “I am not connected to a functioning body. Have you encountered a complication in repairing…”

“No, I didn’t activate you for that Leopold. The android I’m working on is in good condition, just disassembled.” Leopold raised his eyebrows. “I met a girl just now.” Natsuki explained, purposely using the diminutive term out of spite, though she fully appreciated Ayira’s womanliness. “A new student. She seemed to…dislike me.”

Leopold raised his chin in lieu of a nod. “Ahhh.” He uttered, understanding at once. “And this distresses you, since you were attracted to her.”

“Yes.” Natsuki agreed readily. There was no need to be dishonest with her own creation; she’d programmed him to know her better than anyone, and his motives were designed to be unimpeachable. “Her name was Ayira Hansen. Such a provocative shape, much more pronounced proportions than mine, you understand, and that dark complexion of hers…” As Natsuki continued to describe Ayira’s desirable features Leopold had commenced scanning the school’s student roster and reviewed Ayira’s dossier in detail, cross referencing against his psychological information on Natsuki herself. Her physical endowments were beyond the norm, even within the skewed Bell curve representative of Shokushu’s own population, and her hips were especially developed, a trait that appealed to Natsuki’s procreative urges. Her greater height served as an implicit challenge on the instinctual level, instigating in Natsuki a domineering response.

“Shall I arrange for you a socially plausible context for you to encounter Ayira in Miss?” Natsuki smiled happily. “Then I shall contact the faculty. I will endeavor to provide you with a measure of authority of her.”

“Oh Leopold, you’re such a dear!”

Ayira was only a few strides down the hallway before embarrassment at her behavior caught up with her. She was shocked at her own rudeness; her cheeks glowed as she felt heat creep up her neck and into her face as her past attitude replayed in her mind's eye. She stood, dithering for a moment in the empty hallway; should she go back and apologize? Charlotte had meant no harm; she'd had no way of knowing how deeply she disliked physical contact, and she had been kind enough to give her directions out of that maze of a storage room-- although Ayira had to admit, she still wasn't sure how she'd managed to overlook the exit.

I must have just gotten panicky and lost my head, she decided. What is wrong with me? That's still no excuse for the way I treated that girl. Ayira shook her head resolutely, making her long, luxuriantly waving hair fly around her face as she tried to silence her scattered thoughts. I need to go make it right, she told herself sternly. I behaved abominably, and she deserves an apology, at the very least, the poor girl.

Awash with remorse but oddly reluctant to go back to the storage room, Ayira turned and regarded the door several paces down the hall for a moment, toying with the idea of writing a letter of apology instead, and perhaps offering to buy Charlotte lunch. It would give her a chance to say sorry properly, as well as an opportunity to make a better impression-- both of which you could do now, if you'd stop trying to chicken out. You're not in high school anymore, and being shy is no excuse for running away like a child when you've made a mistake. The reprimand seemed to stiffen Ayira's resolve at last, and she made her way back to the double doors of the storage room. Had she not been so deep in thought, she perhaps would have caught the tail end of a conversation, Charlotte's sweet, girlish voice answering deeper, more masculine tones, but Ayira was not at her most observant, and any suspicious sound she might have overheard was lost in the noise of her internal scolding.

She raised a smooth, dark caramel hand to knock gently, not wanting to startle Charlotte at her return, then poked her head around the door. "Charlotte? Are you still in here?" she called into the dim room.

Leopold had continued to delve into Shokushu's database for additional information on Ayira while the student managed a personal quandary in the hallway, wirelessly accessing the institution's voluminous records. Ostensibly he was researching her on behalf of Natsuki but her background caught his own interest as well; Leopold's abstract thought processes were modeled after a human being's, delineated around generalities and exceptions, and while he already had a general understanding of human beings Ayira herself turned out to be exceptional.

"Anything out of the ordinary?" Natsuki appealed curiously, bored by swinging her feet beneath the counter. Leopold committed a part of his faculties to his conversational subroutines.

"Yes, as a matter of fact. Your girl has quite the intellect, expressed via exemplary marks in school as well as the difficulty of her chosen realm of study here at Shokushu." Natsuki raised her eyebrows. "Robotics. You ought to have guessed that Miss, considering where you met her." The petite woman cast her gaze about.

"Hmmm. You're right, naturally. I suppose I should have." Natsuki conceded. Perhaps, she considered, she'd have made a better impression on Ayira if she'd simply continued to work. Her manner may have been construed as frivolous, too prepossessing for a devoted student who neglected interpersonal niceties. "So is she unsociable?" Natsuki asked, thinking of how Ayira had ripped her wrist away.

"No." Leopold's brow knitted. "At least, there's no evidence of that. She's merely averse to physical contact. Trust issues combined with a high degree of fastidiousness, according to the resident psychologist. In fact..." Leopold had just happened upon some commentary made by the staff who had searched the incoming students' belongings while they were unconscious aboard the transport vessel. Apparently Ayira had had a number of small devices secreted amongst her luggage that had no obvious purpose, and had escaped confiscation on the assumption that they were built as a self-teaching exercise. However, photographs had been taken of the devices from several angles, and when he analyzed their structures in reference to Ayira's psyche evaluation he realized their intended purpose. Sexual aides. Leopold's routines for propriety caused him to register a moment's awkward surprise. Natsuki looked at him archly, giving him time to recover from his spontaneous blush. "Miss, I believe there's something else you'll be interested to know..."

Just at that moment Leopold paused as he heard a trepidatious rapping upon the door. His eyes shifted sideways, but the area was barely within his sight. Then Ayira's voice alerted Natsuki, and she half turned to see the Dutch-African's head peering at her through a gap in the doors. Natsuki stiffened. Without thinking she flung the sheet back over Leopold's head, then dropped down to the floor, holding her hands half raised in front of her like a cornered fugitive. At the same time she winced, berating herself for reacting so guiltily. How did she know what Ayira had seen? Perhaps she'd thought Leopold's head was nothing but a sculpture, or maybe she'd not seen it at all. She forced a smile, but for once her charm resolved into flustered tension. Leopold sighed in the dark beneath the sheet and prepared to signal Shokushu's staff to conduct a memory erasure on Ayira.

"H-hello Ayira! That was your name wasn't it?" Natsuki asked with a weak wave.

Eyes rounding at Charlotte's dramatic reaction to her entry, Ayira nodded mutely, then belatedly added, "Yes... I'm sorry, is this a bad time? I can come back later if you'd rather- that is, if you'll still be here." She began well enough, but by the end of her statement a rosy flush was creeping into her light coffee-colored cheeks. Reflexively, she took a half-step back, lingering on the threshold as if waiting for her assumed dismissal to be confirmed. When the moment of silence went on a beat longer, she seemed to take courage from that fact and stepped inside the door, letting it fall shut behind her.

Her eyes went wide again as she registered what sounded awfully like a sigh coming from Natsuki's location, although the girl herself had made no motion indicating that she was the source of the sound. Ayira's gaze fell on the sheet hastily thrown over a generally spherical shape resting on the table, lingering for a moment as she drew her own conclusions as to what potentially lay beneath the obscuring sheet before she ventured, "I didn't mean to interrupt you, and I understand if you want privacy while you work on your project; I just wanted to come back and apologize for how badly I behaved earlier."

The rosy tinge to her face was more pronounced now, but she soldiered on, "You really didn't deserve the way I treated you, and I'm really sorry. I'd like to make it up to you if I can, I mean, if you don't mind-- er... I'm normally not like that... um, or I can- I can just go, if you'd like. I'm sorry I bothered you." Positively glowing now, her shyness apparently having returned full force with the abatement of her temper, Ayira fell silent and waited, fidgeting nervously, for Charlotte's reply. Awkward as it was, her conscience at least was eased now that she had properly apologized.

"You're...apologizing to me?" Natsuki, that is, Charlotte responded. She blinked rapidly and dropped her hands with a self effacing chuckle. She hadn't suspected that Ayira would return so soon after she'd departed, or that her attitude would be so much friendlier. In a trice Charlotte's coalescing grudge dispersed like so much smoke. Ayira's own nervousness and fumbling eased her anxiety at having been caught talking to Leopold. Nothing about the newcomer evinced anything but sincere regret. Natsuki realized she was standing on the balls of her feet as if prepared to run, and settled back down on her heels with an easy smile, feeling confident once more. As she smiled, an idea occurred to her. Ayira liked robots, did she?

"Actually, I'm the one who's sorry." Natsuki-as-Charlotte demurred, and returned to her place on her stool. She waved Ayira over, beckoning with an affected blush. "I just assumed you were...that you were a new student poking around without permission. But I've never seen anybody like that actually explore this room very well, so I think maybe you meant to be here. So that would make you a robotics student too!" Now Natsuki widened her smile immensely, enthusiastic. "Or an engineer? Well in either case, I shouldn't have cast aspersions on your motives."

Natsuki took hold of the edge of the sheet covering Leopold. Leopold felt the motion on his cheek and frowned, realizing what Natsuki meant to do, wondering if it was wise. Probably there'd be no trouble if Ayira saw him, considering her interest in robots, though her worried that she might realize that his brain was too advanced to be plausible by Earth's standard's of technology, even being generous. That would be an easy counter though. He'd simply limit the scope of his intellect, and give the largest portion toward his personality program. There was talk of computers that could pass the Turing test back on Earth, so his being able to hold a conversation wouldn't be so suspicious, as long as he didn't allow himself to be too adept of tongue. As he was considering this the sheet swept away from his head. Friction with his hair caused him to tip over onto his face.

"How undignified." Leopold grumped, wobbling to a resting position on his right ear. "What if I had rolled onto the floor?" Charlotte covered her mouth in embarrassment.

"Oh sorry Leopold! I was too hasty." Charlotte said, covering a giggle, and looked to Ayira, gesturing at the still unstable head on the table.

"Well, he's not right in the head at the moment..," Charlotte joked, prompting a harrumph from Leopold (he detested puns), "...but this is Leopold!" She grinned triumphantly. "An android."

Ayira was relieved to see that Charlotte appeared so much more at ease once the other girl had processed what she'd said, and the budding annoyance at having been mistaken for a snooping freshman (she wasn't snooping, she was scoping out her workspace. It was different!) was deftly soothed away by Charlotte's apology for her misjudgement.

"You're in the robotics department too, then--" Ayira cut herself off as the sheet was rather dramatically whisked away from the table surface and its mysterious spherical lump, revealing the most lifelike specimen of android-kind she had ever had the privilege to see. Ayira's eyes shone as she was drawn to the worktable as if by magnetic force, her awe increasing as the beautifully constructed head groused about its situation, which drew a smile from the dark-complected girl.

Ayira let the pun pass by, acknowledged by a swift smile and chuckle as she took in the sight before her, her respect for the girl increasingly exponentially as her knowledgeable gaze swept over the head and noted its impressive mastery of human conversational interaction.

"Your construction is incredible!" she exclaimed, observing how the cunningly-wrought head simulated human speech, mechanisms beneath the flesh-like outer shell (enough like flesh to move realistically and be worked into plausible wrinkles, she noted. Hollywood could manage that much, but it was still well done) working to give the impression of a living vocal apparatus shaping phonemes, rather than a computerized voice responding to commands to react to stimuli as interpreted by the sensors and filtered by the personality matrix. Possibly matrices, plural, Ayira thought, running her eyes once more over the astonishingly human-seeming head, which was now doing a credible impression of an Old World butler as it regarded her with a crisp stare, lips pressed together with annoyance at being so unceremoniously revealed.

"And it's a pleasure to meet you, Leopold," Ayira said graciously, smiling down at the irritated head. Turning then to regard the delicate figure perched beside her, she asked, "How long have you studied here? I haven't seen this kind of quality construction outside of a field trip my class had taken to NASA- is this something that would be covered in normal course work, or do I need to sign up for an independent study program...?" Suddenly, Ayira blushed faintly and added, "Sorry if I'm badgering you. I just came here to learn to do exactly this sort of thing, so it's exciting to see something like this before classes have even started. Is there any advice you'd give a new student?"

At least, Leopold thought to himself, Ayira was too engaged in admiring him to search for technological inconsistencies. Luckily, humans didn't generally expect to encounter technology more advanced than their own, and it would take a mind of scientific training and remarkable lack of bias to notice all but the most egregious deviations between Leopold and humanity's current state-of-the-art. His creator showed pride in Ayira's fawning over him, and the interaction between the two was much more congenial than Natsuki's description of their first encounter, but Leopold wished he'd had arms and legs to have prevented Natsuki from revealing him. Even if Ayira accepted him at the moment, it had been a risk. Natsuki might think little of irritating the faculty, but Leopold was programmed to minimize her impetuousness whenever possible.

"Charmed young lady." Leopold responded dryly to Ayira's courteous greeting. Immediately thereafter her attention returned to "Charlotte", bombarding her with eager questions. That suited Leopold fine. The less he spoke the less impressive he would seem. He'd do better to make arrangements with the school to justify Natsuki's claim that she belonged to the robotics department. A teacher's assistant, likely, or otherwise a position of influence within the class. His wireless transmitter filled the virtual paperwork in a second. Shokushu itself would provide the desired position upon Natsuki's confirmation.

Meanwhile, Charlotte, as she was calling herself, bit a knuckle in amusement at Ayira's irrepressible questions. "Advice?" she repeated, and placed Leopold's head upright on the table, correctly balanced upon the flat bottom of his neck. She left her palm resting affectionately on his hair, an indignity which he endured with only the faintest simulated exasperation. "Just don't let your enthusiasm prevent you from being methodical in your work." A smile lightened the gravity of her statement.

"Leopold isn't my construction." Charlotte began. "Or rather, I created Leopold but not his construct..." She frowned, knowing she was being unintentionally obtuse. She waved her hands as though to brush away what she'd just said. "Let me try that again Ayira. You're the first person who's seen him so I'm not sure how to approach describing him. Sorry." She took a moment to think, which made her appear incongruously vacuous, staring toward the ceiling until she abruptly clapped her hands together and rapped Leopold swiftly on his crown, startling him. "You see his skull here? That isn't mine to take credit for. I didn't create the materials his structure is made out of, or invent the electro-dynamic polymers that act as his musculature. I don't assemble androids." Though downplaying her own accomplishments, Charlotte's proud smile actually widened. She became more animate as she continued, turning Leopold's head this way and that to elucidate her points. "I create people." She laughed at the grandiosity of her own statement. "I'm not engineer enough to compose a body at Leopold's level of sophistication. However, I'm responsible for everything that comprises Leopold himself. I sculpted the dimensions of his face, including his characteristic expressions, and I programmed the artificial intelligence routines that handle his personality and speech. Social cues, language cognition, emotion simulation, that was all designed by me."

Seeing that Ayira's interest seemed unflagging, Charlotte sidled closer, though she scrupulously refrained from touching the flushed student as she did so. "So Ayira." she said slyly, and circled herself behind Ayira where she hoped her presence would drive the student toward Leopold's disembodied head. Ayira might have an aversion to human contact, but Natsuki hardly thought that that would extend to androids. "More questions? Do you...want to touch him?" Charlotte breathed the last with a hint of suggestiveness. "He'll let you, if you ask nicely."

Ayira nodded automatically at the advice, replying, "Naturally." She smiled swiftly after saying so, hoping to soften what may have come off as an unintentionally brusque reply. It was so hard to predict people's reactions; what would outrage one wouldn't phase another, and the inconsistency coupled with Ayira's tendency to overthink things combined to form a major factor of her awkwardness.

Listening to Charlotte's explanation, Ayira thought that she could see what the fair-featured girl was trying to articulate. Nonetheless, she waited politely as she recollected herself, her visage lapsing back into that pretty but somewhat vapid facade that had characterized her in their earlier encounter. The reappearance of that expression interested Ayira; having seen something of the mind that lay behind that facade, she wasn't sure if her first impression of giggling, mildly invasive folly had been her oversensitivity magnifying faults, or if it truly was a facet of Charlotte's personality. While Ayira had little success in dissecting the hows and whys of interpersonal interactions, she could never quite dissuade herself from making the effort, upon encountering an appropriately fascinating character.

So intrigued, Ayira watched intently as Charlotte's face came alive again, expressive and bright as she explained the origin of Leopold's programming. Warming in the face of someone expressing what seemed to be a shared passion, she opened her mouth to compliment her once again on the sophistication of the software when Charlotte abruptly changed tacks.

Her tone became... flirtatious, almost, although Ayira chased that interpretation out of her head. She's proud of her work, rightly so, and excited to have someone to discuss her field of study with, she told herself firmly. You can understand that. No sooner had Ayira soothed herself with this explanation than her discomfort rose again as Charlotte circled behind the curvaceous brunette. She was so close that Ayira could feel the warmth of her in a line down her back, hear/feel the rasp of the fine cloth of her skirt brushing gently against the denim of her sturdy, many-pocketed work jeans, and feel the soft caress of her breath against the arc of her throat, a strangely intimate sensation that nevertheless had her brain screaming about the pathogens that lived in the human mouth and digestive tracts.

Ayira shuffled forward, trying to be subtle so as not to hurt the girl's feelings, but her skin tingling with the need to get away. She was not so distracted as to miss Charlotte's words, and replied (with a faint breathiness to her voice from her relief at having a bit more room, although none but the sharpest observers was likely to have noted the physical symptoms of her distress), "If you would permit it, Leopold, I would love the chance to touch you." The unfortunate ease with which her statement could also be read as suggestive was utterly lost on the girl, still a bit wide-eyed as she tried to calm the pulse she heard rushing through her ears as her moment of slight claustrophobia passed.