Author. Teacher. Homo.

(Closed Alpha!Rose Lalonde blog, dedicated to the SkaiaNet Institute RP group)

[sardoniceducator-blog]

Miss Laegeland: Interrogate your ex

[sardoniceducator-blog]

The agony of sudden catharsis left her insides feeling absolutely raw, like her heart was throbbing with the need to be with her. Her love had never quite faded, and when she was against her it strummed a sad melody on her heartstrings.

After holding her for what felt like a long time, she took two staggering steps back from her, rubbing her face with the sleeve of her shirt. It made her feel infantile to dab at her tears like that, but her eyes stung with them and she could barely see through it otherwise.

“You must excuse me, I’ve…fuck, I have not dealt with it well.” Rosemary laughed, maybe a little too bitter for it to just be casually dismissive. Her weight shifted from one foot to another, and it was clear that she still felt uncomfortable here, occasionally tensing up as if she could just bolt out the door and hide from her problems. 

Hiding never solves anything, though; and she wanted a chance to meet Roxanna’s daughters (their daughters), a chance that could only be earned through reconciliation. “A date would be nice.” She sniveled, her breathing settling down from the frantic pace is had achieved.

[momdecoherence-blog]

Roxanna also had tears to wipe when the embrace ended. It felt too soon, and yet she knew patience was important with these matters. “Yes, are you free this Saturday around 4? There’s a nice French restaurant in town that’s right next to an antique bookstore.” Her face was still blotchy with red as she adjusted her clothes.

[sardoniceducator-blog]

“My social obligations are at an all time low. I only recently moved here for this job, and you know I don’t make friends fast.” Rosemary dug nails into her legs as she tried to center her thoughts - the tactile sensation kept her in the moment and out of sad nostalgia. “I shall pencil you in for the entire evening, in light of anything else to take up the time.”

[dandroog-blog]

Poker Night

The apartment was ready. It was a two bedroom apartment, since Droog never knew when his family would pop in to visit, with a living room, full kitchen, and full bathroom. It was decorated in old style with heavy wooden furniture he had scrapped toegther from thrift shops and repaired himself. Yeah, he had enough money in the bank to just buy whatever, but the process of varnishing and re-apolstering felt right, like he was taking care of something that would last him. Besides, Dan didn’t like to wave his cash around.

The living room had no television nor couch. There was a four to five person round table with chairs, a modest bar cart, bookshelves used for various storage, and some black-and-white photos on the walls. Tonight the table had a green felt cover on it, poker chips, and an ashtray made of thick clear glass. The lighting was low, the stereo was playing some old jazz, and Dan Droog felt pretty excited about his poker night. It was a $50 buy in, and the person with the most chips at the end of the night would take it all.

He was dressed to kill: sharp navy blue slacks, black leather oxford shoes, a white button up, vest to match his slacks, and no tie. His dark chest hair started to peek out from his undershirt for just the right amount of machismo. He had left the stubble but combed his hair. Yeah. He looked good. The well-tailored outfit made him thin like a knife, like one of the men his father worked with.

There was a knock at the door.

[absurdistanphrontistery]

Saloz was surprisingly the first to show, with an enormous bean bag tucked under one arm and dressed noticeably better than his usual mismatched outfits. While it would be impossible to actually get him any sort of suit due to both his size and contrary demeanor, he had found a relatively well-fitting black shirt and a matching pair of slacks. It couldn’t be said that he didn’t at least try, which was pretty much all he aimed for at these sort of affairs. It would be shit to be kicked out of poker night, after all.

As it was, he was really pleased. Group activities like this really scratched an itch that was a constant bother, and being invited had pretty much made his evening. Not like he had much better to do that night than entertain himself stalking the grounds and spooking the living daylights out of any students out after hours. He knew he shouldn’t stoke their fear of them or give any more reasons for them to spread rumors about him, but it was always funny.

Tonight, though, any naughty things out of their dorms at this late hour would get a free pass- especially considering everyone who was coming. The guidance counselor was a hardass, no doubt about that; but a respectable hardass all the same. “‘Sup. Let’s get this shit rolling. I brought some coinage and a few motherfucking things from my trunk to spice this night up good and proper. You think Maria would get all hairy if I pulled out a broke piece of spear and told her it was the piece what killed her heathen godson dead? Just as a joke, ‘course. M’old, but I’m not THAT old.” He snorts with a grin, holding up a big sack made out of a pillow case. It jangled and poked out oddly, stuffed with trinkets and one particular lump that looked alarmingly like the outline of a dildo.

[slicktheteacher-deactivated2015]

Slick wasn’t much of a people person. Group activities were never his thing. But this was poker, his kinda game. He fuckin loved poker. And not only that, it was with the one staff member he could actually tolerate. That was yet another plus. He was probably more excited than he should’ve been, but meh, who cared. He hid it well behind his sharp glare.

He was wearing his usual outfit, the old style fedora, along with his not quite neat black suit and black tie, and his eyepatch. And not to mention his nice shoes and socks. His tie was a bit loose as well, but ay it was poker. He was just presentable enough, with enough messiness to say don’t fuck with me.

He came to the door, his knife in his jacket just in case he caught any cheaters, and some money in his pocket as well for the actual game. As he got up to the door he noticed another participant was already there. Oh right the philosophy teacher. Whoever put him in charge of that class had a few screws loose. But whatever. Slick was stabhappy and happened to be the criminology teacher so maybe he wasn’t in the best position either.

He walked up to the door, a smirk playing on his face as he tipped his hat. “Hey there. I see ya already got people showing up. Let’s get this show on the road soon though cuz I’m itchin to kick all your asses at poker.”

[sardoniceducator-blog]

Gambling was not unfamiliar to Rosemary. After all, there had been a chapter of her life where she’d probably set foot in every kind of establishment that served alcohol in the entire northern hemisphere. Casinos weren’t really a preferred haunt of hers, but the idea of a casual game of poker between some acquaintances seemed amenable enough to her enjoyment. It didn’t hurt to establish good relationships with co-workers.

She had not really dressed up much at all: most of the things she normally wore in the evening would have been dreadfully unsuited to polite company, but she managed to find it in herself to wear a neat, crisp lavender shirt with some black slacks. Had she had more notice, she might have set aside something nicer...though when she poked her head into the door and saw her company for the night, she maybe considered that the dress code wasn’t so much about looking tidy as it was about giving an impression of effort.

“I hope I’m not overdressed for the occasion.” As she shed her woolen coat in the doorway she nodded in greetings to her peers. “I shall concede it difficult to find clothes built for eleven-foot juggernauts, but I feel like the market might be kinder to you, Slick.” Her laugh was short and to the point, though not exactly antagonistic. It was no secret that she had a penchant for ribbing her cohorts - best to at least warm them up to it.

[sardoniceducator-blog]

Miss Laegeland: Interrogate your ex

[momdecoherence-blog]

The admission brought a redness to Roxanna’s face: a blush that stung her eyes with tears or tears that warmed her cheeks? It didn’t matter. Her heart pounded in her chest to know that flighty, distant Rosemary was clutching to her. She tightened her hug, too filled with joy to realize her own tears were spilling over.

“I was convinced you had moved on,” she murmured, her mouth near her ex-lover’s ear, “I tried to keep busy, but it never helped.”

The researcher sniffled. All those nights sleeping alone, the nights she had found an excuse to stay up working: she had only made herself too exhausted to think about Rosemary, about the other voids in her life. She had pushed herself to be too tired to imagine that relationship as a salve, but here they were, with Rosemary pressed up against her pink button up and gray houndstooth skirt surrounded by office supplies and data printouts.

“Let’s go on a proper date, ‘mary. I wanna be with you again. I-” the words caught in her throat, she had been denying to herself for so long, “I love you too.”

[sardoniceducator-blog]

The agony of sudden catharsis left her insides feeling absolutely raw, like her heart was throbbing with the need to be with her. Her love had never quite faded, and when she was against her it strummed a sad melody on her heartstrings.

After holding her for what felt like a long time, she took two staggering steps back from her, rubbing her face with the sleeve of her shirt. It made her feel infantile to dab at her tears like that, but her eyes stung with them and she could barely see through it otherwise.

“You must excuse me, I’ve...fuck, I have not dealt with it well.” Rosemary laughed, maybe a little too bitter for it to just be casually dismissive. Her weight shifted from one foot to another, and it was clear that she still felt uncomfortable here, occasionally tensing up as if she could just bolt out the door and hide from her problems. 

Hiding never solves anything, though; and she wanted a chance to meet Roxanna’s daughters (their daughters), a chance that could only be earned through reconciliation. “A date would be nice.” She sniveled, her breathing settling down from the frantic pace is had achieved.

[sardoniceducator-blog]

Miss Laegeland: Interrogate your ex

[momdecoherence-blog]

Roxanna couldn’t be reasonable any longer. She couldn’t wipe the grin off her face, couldn’t keep her distance, couldn’t keep her arms from wrapping around Rosemary loosely or her forehead from lowering down to touch the other woman’s.

“No, we can’t just go back to where we were. you’re right. Between my daughters and your baggage, we can never go back.” Her voice was hushed, her body loose, as though the slightest hint of tension would frighten off the shorter woman. It was new, seeing Rosemary this open, and Roxanna could only remember it happening once before. 

“But I would start over if you would still have me.” 

[sardoniceducator-blog]

Oh god. That soft, cradling touch almost made her weak in the knees with bittersweet nostalgia - her breath came hard and audible, and she did the first thing that came to mind, curling her arms around her old lover, grabbing fistfuls of her labcoat to keep from breaking into sobs. She must be strong.

“I-I have to go. There’s an English department meeting...” She was too sad and too enamored with Lalonde to lie to her effectively. Her conscious thoughts wanted her to run; Roxanna’s warmth and affection was addictive, and Rosemary wanted anything but to relapse. She wanted to put distance between them, erect a wall of stoicism, set up anti-air batteries of effortless, nonplussed wit, top the towers with rolls of cutting remarks like barbed wire. But it had been so long, and the hole in her heart had never quite healed - now it was hemorrhaging affection uncontrollably.

“I still love you.” The words came out a pathetic, tearful mewl - her cheeks were wet and her face felt hot enough to fry flesh. “I missed you so much, I’m so glad to see you again.”

[sardoniceducator-blog]

Miss Laegeland: Interrogate your ex

[momdecoherence-blog]

“I had my girls,” she replied softly, “Even if they hate me, I love them, and it gave me something to do, someone else to be besides Roxanna the drunk who had just been broken up with.” She shuddered to think of the bender she would have been on if it hadn’t been for the thought of Roxy’s face filled with disappointment again.

With that phrase, she took in Rose’s face, finally, no longer wanting to avoid her impulse to study the curves and wrinkles, daring to look directly and with softness. There was something about the sadness in Rosemary’s eyes that Roxanna could trust, and she wanted to move toward that trust now. She wanted her eyes to say what her mouth couldn’t.

“I didn’t want to be apart from you. I never did.” There was a lot more the researcher wanted to say, but would it frighten the infamously distant woman in front of her. Would Rosemary even believe her if she told the truth?

[sardoniceducator-blog]

“I guess you could say I had girls too; it wasn’t very healthy and I probably hurt some of them just as much as I was hurting.” Rosemary wasn’t quite sure why she felt the need for honest - it had been a very long time since somebody gave her a reason, a desire, even, to be honest. Lying came easy to her, she was a goddamn natural at lying, so why was she practically vomiting honesty now?

The cocktail of emotions thrashing in her chest was more poisonous than anything she had ever choked down before, but her heart bore that burden, not her liver. It hurt so much to talk to her like this because it forced her to face up to the facts of how she had gone wrong, and now she was comparing the brutal fiction she had built in her head with the actually rather optimistic reality. It made her feel weak and needy and open, like when she first met Roxanna and she told her about everything. She needed space and yet she never wanted to be apart again.

She needed a fucking drink.

“We can hardly just pick up where we left off, can we? So much has changed. We’ve changed. You’ve got a new kid and the other one is really starting to grow up. I picked up issues like an electrostatically-charged lint trap in your absence.” With a weighty sigh, she finished, “And I don’t know if I’m the person you loved, not anymore.”

[sardoniceducator-blog]

Miss Laegeland: Interrogate your ex

[momdecoherence-blog]

Wow. That went better than Roxanna had expected. She almost hugged Rosemary, but caught herself at the last moment, remembering that things were not as they had once been. The distance had been closed though, and she was but a breath away from the other woman.

“I don’t see why not,” she replied, scratching the back of her head sheepishly, “I mean, we only broke up because you moved.” She tucked some of her dyed blonde hair behind her ear with a small smile, hoping her roots weren’t showing, praying Rosemary still found her attractive despite the years on her face.

“Also, one tiny fight doesn’t make us mortal enemies forever. Everyone fights. Especially when scientist ex-girlfriends make robots that look nearly identical to novelist ex-girlfriends.” She cleared her throat, suddenly very aware of the fact that they were alone in her office.

[sardoniceducator-blog]

Rose took a deep breath and then sighed, and her whole body seemed to rise and fall with the motion, her shoulders seeming to sag under the weight of her regrets. Her eyes slid shut with the exhalation, and when they opened again she had the faintest hint of a smile.

“I always sort of believed you wanted rid of me anyway. In hindsight, I was a dumb bitch to myself over it.” Her laugh came a little painful and bitter - she resented the idea that she had gotten so low in the wake of their breakup even more to know that most of the emotional magnitude she lent it was the product of her imagination. The woman tried to keep that off her mind, however. It was not...conducive to reconciliation for her to dredge up such painful memories.

“I missed you a lot. I’d be lying if I said I was over you.” The smile on Rosemary’s face vanished, and her head turned away uneasy. “Even for the weird robo-facsimile of me, you probably took it better, huh?”

[sardoniceducator-blog]

Miss Laegeland: Interrogate your ex

[momdecoherence-blog]

Roxanna took a deep breath. She had to do what was best for her daughters, and that meant peace. She leaned back against her desk, arms crossed, and sighed. As much as she half wanted a screaming match, it wouldn’t help Rose or Roxy if they had class with Rosemary, and maybe Roxy would have a chance at reconnecting with her “aunt”.

Her eyes focused to the right as she started explaining herself, “It was an accident at first. I didn’t realize how much she looked like you until the chassis was complete, and yeah, I saw her as a replacement for you for a long time.” She paused, looking at her shoes. It was hard to look at Rosemary right then, to realize the distance that might have grown between them.

“but shes not you,” she picked back up, finally looking at her former lover, “I watched the AI grow up, and she’s very much her own being. And she certainly didn’t help me feel any better about losing you.” She uncrossed her arms and leaned back with them on the edge of the desk. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way.”

The last part came out as a mumble, almost reluctantly.

[sardoniceducator-blog]

The older woman’s nails dug hard into her palm, and she closed her eyes, opening them only to stare at the wall past her. Rose would always be happy to give as good as she got, and she was practically aching to get into the kind of battle of barbed words that would leave both of them momentarily satisfied with self-righteousness, if only to regret everything hours later (potentially over a drink). But there was no way she had enough cruelty in her to shoot down an earnest attempt at reconciliation - not sober, anyway.

“Goddammit, Rox, I thought you were supposed to be the smart one of us.” Rosemary took a step forwards and she almost sank to her knees, legs a little weak from the emotions swirling around in her like a washing machine going down a flight of stairs. A few more footsteps brought her to the desk, where she could at least grip the edge for dear life, making particularly intense eye contact as she steadied herself.

“I’m sorry, I overreacted, I just looked into the photo and saw myself there. I saw the me that fell in love with you. I guess I didn’t quite manage to ever get over that.” The pause she left was pregnant with an entire goddamn litter, and her throat seemed to tremble in anticipation of the words bubbling up inside it. “Can we learn to get along again?”

[sardoniceducator-blog]

Miss Laegeland: Interrogate your ex

[momdecoherence-blog]

Rosemary took her step back, and Roxanna came back to her labcoat and goggles from the memory of Rose’s “birth”. Words began to register, as well as the fact that her colleagues had left the workspace to give the two women room. She carefully placed the test tube of hydraulic fluid she had been working on back in its holder and replaced the dropper in its vial. Her ex picking at her alcoholism was nothing new, and nothing she minded much. Facts were facts.

Then Roxanna heard the word “real doll” and her back straightened. She heard the words “anatomically correct” and stood up, glaring right back at the English teacher from across the table.

“SHE is my DAUGHTER and NO i didnt give her a pussy, you twisted bitch,” she spat, her accent thickening a bit, “in my 5 years of working on her not ONCE did i think of her that way, but u walk into my lab in front of my colleagues and talk about HER as though SHE were just a sex toy?!? whats wrong no one else would touch you after i left? or were you the one who developed a taste for underage girls?”

During her diatribe Roxanna had walked around the table. “cmon if were going to fight were going to do it in private cabra tonta que porra e essa, falar mal de mim e uma coisa mas rosinha e outra-” she muttered in Portuguese and started off toward her office down the hall, refusing to acknowledge Rosemary until they were safely behind closed doors.

[sardoniceducator-blog]

She had rarely seen her quite like this - they'd been apart for a few years, yes, but that didn't mean Rosemary had forgotten everything, and besides, she prided herself on a solid memory. The reaction was almost uncharacteristic, and she reeled back a little more, catching herself before she slammed into a table full of complex and colourful solutions that could have been million-dollar synthetic precursors or deadly fucking toxic or both; she neither wanted horrible chemical burns nor a disciplinary meeting.

The older woman's arms folded, and she was adamant that she was not going to just follow her obediently down the hall. It would have been a winning blow if she forced her to turn around and come back to her, wouldn't it? But the signs of it occuring weren't happening, so she walked a little faster than was necessary just to catch up with her. To make it a little less of a defeat (did other people analyse conflict with passive-aggressive game theory?), she added a wry, off the cuff remark with an especially flippant air. "Well, one of them was younger than she claimed. Still legal in many places." Her deadpan delivery was part of the humour, except she wasn't quite as poker-faced as she tried and it wasn't quite as much of a joke as she would rather it were.

Crossing the periphery of her office, she had to force herself to take a deep breath, her fists reflexively tightening into fists. A pit was growing in her stomach, or maybe more like a colossal, building-eating sinkhole; it was anticipation, some of it fearful, some of it practically excited. There was something to be said for the release provided by a good fight, whether it be the physical rush of endorphins of fisticuffs or the psychological self-righteousness of harsh words. Suddenly the facade of jokiness slipped from her face as though a cliff slumping into the ocean, and she was all business instead of sarcastic and nonplussed. "I'll start seeing it as a person when you stop seeing it as me."

[sardoniceducator-blog]

Miss Laegeland: Interrogate your ex

Rosemary wasn’t generally renowned for good moods, but here she was in a notoriously foul one. A shame to start off the new year like this - normally, she would be more optimistic than ever to have a fresh beginning (and with a much tidier paycheck, to boot), or at least as optimistic as she got, but no, that was now ruined. Simply put: it was going to be a long, long year.

She had just been setting up her workspace; distributing pens around her desk so that she could always find one, preparing her lessons for the upcoming week, and placing forms in convenient places. And then she happened to check the names of students in her class. The first shock made her jaw drop. A familiar name, Roxy Lalonde. The daughter of a very familiar face, if one she hadn’t seen in years. Sufficient familiarity could compensate for the distance of time, and she could picture clearly in her mind’s eye the face that she full well intended to slap any second now.

The second shock rocked her to the core. ‘Rose Lalonde’, read the electronic register. Uncomfortably close to her own name, it incensed curiosity in her. Thanks to the marvels of technology, she was able to bring up the student’s details on her computer, even check the photo assigned to her.

She found herself wishing she hadn’t,

Miss Laegeland had a strong composure, but by the time her mind had consciously processed the image her heart was pounding, whether with fear or an intense desire to have a loud rant at someone over this. It was her face, like a younger version of herself had been plucked out of the timestream for some kind of macabre photoshoot (which, after all her years teaching at Skaianet-sponsored facilities, wouldn’t normally be out of the question, but then why wouldn’t she remember it). Of course, the reality was even worse - it was a machine, an android sculpted into an flagrantly unnatural mockery of her own form. Some kind of replacement goldfish to fill a wound. She wasn’t sure whether she should faint, puke, or kill someone. The latter still wasn’t out of the question, though.

Rosemary wasn’t prone to physical violence (she much preferred to stab at the psyche, preferably in a passive-aggressive manner), but in a rare exception for her she slammed the door to Roxanna’s chemistry lab shut firmly behind her. “They never told me you would be here. I am a professional, however - I would have dealt with it maturely, and perhaps reconciled a friendship between us. But you have done things that make this…difficult. The machine.” Her voice bristled with anger as though a thorn bush of rusty blades and edges. Both hands placed themselves on the front of her desk hard enough to make an audible slap, and if she wasn’t wired with adrenaline she might have yelped in pain. “You built a machine to replace me.”

[momdecoherence-blog]

Why did Roxanna decide to build a robot identical to her ex? It had been an amiable breakup; work had taken them across the globe from each other. At first, it had been a mistake, a series of decisions she had made to try and create an adorable robot. The feeling crept up on her, an odd fondness which she had written off as a builder’s pride, but one day, when Rose’s chassis was done but the AI hadn’t yet been implanted, Roxanna found herself in an empty midnight lab with tears running down her face.

It was Rosemary. There she had sat, looking at a haunting simulacrum of the face she had never properly mourned. Motherhood, work, and therapy had kept her from having time to cry. Now, however, she had the time to painstakingly read over the emails between her and the artist that had worked on the latex-cyberskin covering. “More dimple, less freckle,” God she must have been driving that person INSANE with her micromanaging. Now there was a multimillion dollar copy of her ex in front of her, and she had nothing to do for the next three days except brood over it. It was an ugly cry, a cant-breathe-from-snot cry, where she realized she and Rosemary were never going to ever pick up where they had left off, where she had probably lost her best chance at a life partner. The lab echoed with her sobbing, a place as cold as the orphanage that had held her childhood tears.

There was a short bender, thankfully one that Roxy didn’t have to see, and a hangover, and then Roxanna just- kept working. Days passed into weeks, then months, then years, and though she knew Rose had begun life as a stand-in for the lovechild she had never been able to have, the love and pride went deeper with each day, until it crawled into the same twisted place she kept her distant love for the flesh and blood girl she called Roxy.

And here was Rosemary. And here was her dimple that was very dimpled. And here were her freckles that weren’t too too freckled, and here was her yelling, yelling about something important, but Roxanna couldn’t hear her over the feeling of shattered glass and the tears threatening to spill out of her face.

Roxanna didn’t give a flying fuck what Rosemary was mad about. Here was the face she thought she’d never see. Here were hands she half wished were slapping her black and blue, so desperate was her need for proof that this moment was real.

So she said the stupidest possible thing. “I missed you.”

[sardoniceducator-blog]

Frustration wells up into a grumble (or maybe just a politer version of a growl). Rosemary takes a long, slow breath, her body coiling and rising up on the balls of her feet and then slumping down again. With her shoulders low, she retreated back from the desk; her rage had broken upon shores of pity. She had too much heart to slug such a pathetic, whimpery person inherently face, at least until they regained some dignity.

"I feel like there are healthier ways to deal with your problems...cheaper, too. It'd probably be cheaper to pickle yourself and buy a fresh stem-cell liver than craft a perverse, sapient RealDoll in my likeness." Every remark was loaded with scorn and derision like bloated, venomous stingers. She had a fine taste for irony, and the hypocrisy of her accusations probably will make her tearfully chuckle down the line–grief and the pain of loss had taken Rose to some unspeakably dark moments, and even if they weren't quite as expensive they sure had to be a lot more unhealthy.

Even through her outrage a little guilt showed on her face, and looked out the window, covering her retreat with verbal suppressive fire. "Is it anatomically correct? Consent and non-humans is still a touchy area, legally speaking, is it not?”

[sardoniceducator-blog]

Miss Laegeland: Interrogate your ex

Rosemary wasn't generally renowned for good moods, but here she was in a notoriously foul one. A shame to start off the new year like this - normally, she would be more optimistic than ever to have a fresh beginning (and with a much tidier paycheck, to boot), or at least as optimistic as she got, but no, that was now ruined. Simply put: it was going to be a long, long year.

She had just been setting up her workspace; distributing pens around her desk so that she could always find one, preparing her lessons for the upcoming week, and placing forms in convenient places. And then she happened to check the names of students in her class. The first shock made her jaw drop. A familiar name, Roxy Lalonde. The daughter of a very familiar face, if one she hadn't seen in years. Sufficient familiarity could compensate for the distance of time, and she could picture clearly in her mind's eye the face that she full well intended to slap any second now.

The second shock rocked her to the core. 'Rose Lalonde', read the electronic register. Uncomfortably close to her own name, it incensed curiosity in her. Thanks to the marvels of technology, she was able to bring up the student's details on her computer, even check the photo assigned to her.

She found herself wishing she hadn't,

Miss Laegeland had a strong composure, but by the time her mind had consciously processed the image her heart was pounding, whether with fear or an intense desire to have a loud rant at someone over this. It was her face, like a younger version of herself had been plucked out of the timestream for some kind of macabre photoshoot (which, after all her years teaching at Skaianet-sponsored facilities, wouldn't normally be out of the question, but then why wouldn't she remember it). Of course, the reality was even worse - it was a machine, an android sculpted into an flagrantly unnatural mockery of her own form. Some kind of replacement goldfish to fill a wound. She wasn't sure whether she should faint, puke, or kill someone. The latter still wasn't out of the question, though.

Rosemary wasn't prone to physical violence (she much preferred to stab at the psyche, preferably in a passive-aggressive manner), but in a rare exception for her she slammed the door to Roxanna's chemistry lab shut firmly behind her. "They never told me you would be here. I am a professional, however - I would have dealt with it maturely, and perhaps reconciled a friendship between us. But you have done things that make this...difficult. The machine." Her voice bristled with anger as though a thorn bush of rusty blades and edges. Both hands placed themselves on the front of her desk hard enough to make an audible slap, and if she wasn't wired with adrenaline she might have yelped in pain. "You built a machine to replace me."