#neoteric-ameliorate

[creatorofclay]

closed starter for @neoteric-ameliorate

The first startup sequence was always the hardest to endure; prototype androids seemed to take especially long to start. But this... this one was special. Elijah hadn’t had the pleasure to build an android on his own since he built his first RT600. These days it was much easier to do with the machines, but he still took the time to make sure every part was just as he imagined it. And the even better part? The prototype line could be whatever he wanted it to be. 

Originally, he had high hopes for this model. The RK200 was going to be nothing like anything else they had created. It would be agile, smarter, and more compassionate. This model was perfect for certain leadership roles. A fierce personality and endless will, not to mention the stronger structure of the body. The RK200 was finally perfect.

Unfortunately... Elijah would never truly see what it was created to do. The moment he heard about his dear friends accident, he knew he needed to do something. Something to repay him for all he had done, for all he had inspired. Carl had been a good friend to him, everything he had done and his art was an inspiration. Even though Carl had never liked the androids, he was very open about them being mindless machines, Elijah knew the best support he would need to help after his accident could only be an android. Something that didn’t need anything to do its job and would prove to be a good companion. 

He switched the light on in the room with the android as the startup sequence and updates were completed. Synthetic skin activated, LED flashing idly as it booted up, and wires all disconnected for the first run. 

Elijah grinned as he took a step back, “ Alright, lets see how this works. RK200? Can you hear me? ”

[serendipitybound]

STOP - either muse

@neoteric-ameliorate

Ever the HELPLESS romantic, Simon went out of his way to ensure that when Markus finally returned HOME from a distant trip, he’d be treated with every LOVING gesture the blonde could think to offer. There wasn’t anything GRAND, of course. But there was an accumulation of little things, like washing the bedding so that it would smell especially SWEET when they settled in for the night, or the VIBRANT fresh flowers already placed in a vase on the dining table. 

For now, however, his FOCUS was on dinner. He hummed ever so softly as he paid CAREFUL attention to the shrimp puttanesca he’d been preparing. From lemon zest to parsley, he wanted ensure the flavors blended as PERFECTLY as possible. He wasn’t a chef by any stretch, but he felt quite PLEASED with his efforts by the time he transferred the portions into two bowls. 

He’d just begun to set the table when he hears the front door open. Immediately, the bottle of red wine in his hands is ABANDONED, one glass filled and the other EMPTY as he hurries to greet his lover with a lopsided smile. He missed Markus DEARLY whenever his career called him far from home, and as soon as he’s through the threshold, Simon is already CLOSING all distance between them. Oh, how his heart SWELLS with such adoration. 

The other’s name is the only WARNING given before hands frame chiseled jaw and thumbs BRUSH soft circles into cheeks. In an instant, he presses a NEEDY kiss to those familiar, wonderful lips. Days seemed to STRETCH into months when he was the only one in the house. But as soon as he feels Markus against his fingertips, everything else simply FADES away, and all that matters is being close again. 

[serendipitybound]

[ possessive ] Markus resting their hand on Simon's leg or the small of their back while they’re standing beside each other . [ neoteric-ameliorate ]

[ possessive ]  your muse resting their hand on mine’s leg. // @neoteric-ameliorate  

Amidst a table of politicians and their ever AMBITIOUS partners, Simon surely seemed somewhat out of PLACE in their company. Though, he supposed, being a kindergarten teacher came with its own merit and CHARM, or at least the genuine ( in some cases flirtatious ) smiles which he received from his PEERS allowed him to think as much. 

He tried to keep up with the PLEASANT small talk, interjecting only when he deemed it appropriate. It was IMPORTANT to him that he leave the entire table with an EXCELLENT impression. For if they could think well of him, then by extension, they would have to view Markus in a SIMILAR light, and that meant forming connections that could easily FURTHER his career or goals. 

However, he FALTERS when he feels familiar digits press against his inner thigh. His breath HITCHES, and certainly his cheeks are FLUSHING too. The act itself seems so BRAZEN to him, but pale hues can’t help SNEAKING a glance toward Markus – that impeccably handsome face instantly making him TWICE as flustered. 

“Markus,” he breathes, low and hushed as his lips BRUSH against the other’s ear. “Please.” It’s the only word that MANAGES to roll from his tongue. Yet, whether he’s asking for his lover to be just a tad more PROFESSIONAL, or whether he’s HOPING he might do something more, remains a MYSTERY even to himself.