Y_ur Name here.
Aradia fought the urge to recoil in disgust as he clasped her hand in his own, shaking firmly. He appeared so close to human, yet enough was off about Scratch that he instilled a sense of mistrust in her. His hand was too heavy, his skin felt closer to silicone, and his body moved with a jerky, mechanical gait. Wrinkling her nose, she quickly pulled her hand away, wiping her palm against the fabric of her shorts. “It is a pleasure to meet you.” She replied, trying to keep up pleasantries. Normally, she wasn’t the type to mask her reactions, but given his unusual nature and air of unease, she thought it best to not aggravate the situation. Aradia tensed as he continued to speak, gesturing to his own body in reference to the scars marring her abdomen. Lightly resting her hand against her skin, the young woman narrowed her eyes at Scratch as he broached the topic that so many left undisturbed.
“Well,” she paused, inhaling sharply, the words getting stuck in her throat. “…I had an accident, I was exploring and thing shifted and we…” She let out a shaky breath. “I fell and landed on a bunch of support beams, impaled in multiple places.” As she spoke, she indicated to the puncture wound scars spread across her skin. “Needless to say, things got fucked up.” Aradia shook her head, letting out an exasperated sigh.
The history professor’s smile broke into a grin, showing teeth as white and as flawless as porcelain, though his teeth are made of a personal blend of acrylic resin that he favoured over porcelain. “Truly?” He said, setting a small box of tools to the side, and going to the AC unit. He sighed, having been sent by the Dean to fix the AC unit in this particular room. He went about his work, though if she thought he was going to drop the subject at that, she was dead wrong. “I have seen you about campus, Dear. I’m the history professor here, though I will admit it’s merely a hobby of mine…” He began, setting down screws and bolts in a perfectly uniform distance and pattern from each other. Three centimeters of space between then, exactly. Screwdriver in hand, he had his back turned to the woman, looking at her as little as possible. This was a test, to see if she preferred him to not look at her. A bit of psycho-analyzation, to determine how best to offer her his services in a way that would be likable to her. “Perhaps I should introduce myself properly, though. I am Doctor Edward Thomas Ebenezer Scratch. I am, arguably, the systems leading scientist in prosthesis. This involves robotic limb replacements and synthetic organic implants.” He said, looking around for a container, as he removed the indoor coils from the AC unit. They had frozen over, and would need to defrost before he placed them back inside. He began to check a few things, as the problem could be narrowed down. “Hmm..” He said, pondering to himself, keeping himself tuned to her reactions. He was paying attention to any changes in her voice patterns, glad he had taken the time to upgrade his own aural receptors. Being robotic has many advantages.
Aradia wrinkled her nose as he turned away from her, fiddling with the AC unit. She rolled her eyes, shooting back, sarcasm tinging her voice, “Oh, truly, such a pleasure.” Covering her mouth at the slip in tone, she backed up a few steps, reminding herself that it was in her best interest to not anger the odd and vaguely menacing old man in her dorm. Letting out an annoyed groan over the current heart, she crossed the open space of the living room to the kitchen.
“I doubt you are the history professor, but rather a history professor.” The young Megido quipped, grabbing a glass from the cabinet. “After all, there is more than one history professor on campus, Sir.” She retorted, making a mental note to avoid signing up to take any classes with Professor Scratch. Dropping some ice cubes into the cup, she turned on the faucet and filled the glass before quickly downing the cold water. She contemplated sticking her head under the sink to cool down, but instead just refilled the glass and shut off the tap. Leaning on the counter, Aradia ran her fingers through her hair, giving him a once over as he reintroduced himself “Quite the title you have got there.” She commented, letting out a slow whistle and shaking her head. “What is a guy like you doing fixing an air conditioner in a place like this?” She asked jokingly. She was watching as Scratch worked, unscrewing the unit and pulling coils out from inside.
Taking small sips of water, she eyed him nervously. “Why do you even care? Like hearing about how people fucked up their lives?” She asked with a scoff, drumming her fingers on the counter top in annoyance. Aradia hadn’t dealt with the trauma of the accident and the death of her friend, instead she threw herself head first into the rush of being alive.
