"Are you kidding?"

"No, I am very serious."

Marlene kept having the conversation with a girl she was holding by her throat, as she closed the shop's door on a key, and continued walking, at a leisurely pace. She did give the arguments this strange girl was giving her an honest thought. Most people would find her words atrocious, deranged, selfish even! Marlene found them ... silly. Yet, illuminating. In an odd, disturbing way. The prospect of doing whatever she wished, made the machine think.

"I am doing with you whatever I want, right now. You do not seem to be capable of resisting me. Does that make me a villain, to you?"

It was a curious thought. Villains wanted to impose their power over others for their own selfish reasons. Heroes imposed powers over villains. In that essence, they were the same. They were the strong imposing power over the weaker adversary, whenever they could. The difference was that heroes did it to protect those who were even weaker than villains, usually the people said villains wanted to prey on. Like this girl. She assumed Marlene was just a regular cashier made of flesh and blood, no?

"I will have to turn down your offer, as I am already an employee of 7/11." - the automaton said, mid-thought. 

"The alternative to being a villain is to be a hero. The benefits of hero-ship include public recognition, monetary remuneration, top-of-the-line training facilities, and monopoly on violence." - she stated some of the main reasons why people joined the academy. 

"Would you be interested in any of that?" - Marlene made a counter-offer.

"They were alive, then they died, and were turned into machines."

Marlene summarized. It was ... a very familiar concept to her. She remained silent, looking a little bit wistful as she eyed the gray, faceless horde on the table. She could almost feel an odd kinship with the concept of these skeletal warriors. From the gist of it, they were like her. She needed to know more. When the girl asked her about 80k, her head shifted, a soft mechanical whirr coming from the place where the head was attached to the neck. 

"I would be interested in learning more, yes. What are these machines called? Who made them? What is their purpose? Did they ... succeed in achieving it?"


She sounded almost hopeful at that last part. The tabletop game part Marlene was less interested in, largely due to the costs mentioned. And the shameful corporate practices attached to them. Still, if it were an activity humans actively engaged in with friends... then it would be useful to do so. Humans liked playing games. The automaton lowered herself a bit to look at one of the models up close.

"I would be interested in playing the game as well. However, I do not have an army. Plastic is weak. It lacks the certainty of steel. Would I be allowed to make my own?"

"Hm..."

Marlene hummed thoughtfully. She was not going to stab the girl with no need. That was probably against a hero ruling or another. So, she just kept her dangling in her grip. The fingers felt cold, and hard. Not a hand of a warm-blooded human. She did not choke her, but it was going to be difficult to escape the grasp.

"Why is being a villain the coolest?" - she asked, sounding genuinely curious. "They end up beaten up and in jail. Or worse." - she shrugged. One hand reaching under the counter. From there, Marlene extracted a rag, to wipe the counter with. 'Such a strange girl...' - she thought, cleaning up after her. All while this 'Mummy' was letting out a strange plea of some sort. About how they were the same. The automaton girl looked at her incredulously. 

"Are we the same?" - she asked. Curiously, she tightened the grip. Making it hard to breathe. Observing the reaction. Feeling the living flesh pulse underneath her fingers. Or, rather, recording the pulse as existing. Marlene could not really feel much of anything. Hot, cold, tactile functions. They existed only through acknowledgement of these parameters inside of her very alien, very machine-like mind. She would loosen the grip, to allow the airflow resume.

"I do not think we are the same. You need air." 

With that, Marlene walked over, with Mummy in tow, grabbing the keys from under the counter on her way to the door. Putting the sign "Closed" facing forward, before opening it. 

"You will have to come with me. Do not worry, our journey would not take long."

How ominous.

Marlene sized up the new customer with her glassy stare. Looking her over from tip to toe.

She was young. She had the getup of a hoodlum. With bright neon colors and face-paint and a lack of taste in clothing. She was swaying, indicating a degree of inebriation. 'This is not going to be a decent customer, is it...' - a disappointed thought slowly scrolled through the machine's mind. But only slightly disappointed. After all, machines could not feel much of anything.

Including fear of the knife. 

Marlene's eyes shifted to eye the weapon, assessing its threat. It was ... minimal. Kitchen knives were not great weapons. One was just as likely to have their hand slip up the handle and cut themselves as they were to kill someone they were stabbing. Besides, this one did not seem too sharp, and was likely stolen out of the kitchen, prior to being use to try and threaten her. The automaton girl did not move, only her eyes going back and forth, towards different points of interest.

"I do not think we have met. You must have mistaken me for someone else." - she said, taking the commentary about them being 'besties' at face value, though not quite buying it. The mocking way it was said went right over her head. As for the other question...

"No, I do not think I am afraid of that." - her tone was eerily neutral, despite the derangement and danger associated with the situation. "If you wish to conduct purchases here, you will have to stop threatening the store clerk. It is a criminal offence." 

Surely an intelligent human being would see the reason in her voice and stop. Right? 

'Maybe I am giving humans too much credit...'

"Your assistance will be remembered in the upcoming Empire."

Mr. Finnegan was not like Mr. Browning. The latter was creeped out by the jokes Marlene made. This one seemed to take it in strive. Though she was not able to gauge the levels of nervousness behind that smirk of his, if there were any. Still, the machine was satisfied that her personal brand of humor was finding at least some positive feedback with this one. 'He is nice.' - the artificial girl made a conclusion about the man, remembering to raise the relationship counter by one point. 

With that in mind, Marlene approached the chair she was invited to. It was a very nice chair, expensive-looking. She took her time getting to sit on it. She inspected it with her eyes for a few long moments. She then reached out for it with both hands, and gave it some slight downward nudges. Testing how sturdy and stable it was. She then got to place her tush on it, though very carefully, and very slowly. The whole process took about a minute, and one could hear the barely audible creak of the chair underneath when she was finished. Shifting a little bit to see if everything was alright, the machine finally came as close as it can to seeming relaxed. Or, at least, a little bit less rigid.

The automaton girl was able to see herself in the mirror now. Her pale face contrasting with reddish hair, and her dark eyes. She drew a smile. It was too long, too creepy. She dropped it. The next smile was too wiry and dishonest, it looked like someone forced to smile. It was also dropped. The third one looked pleasant and neutral, though not very emotional. This one stayed. 

"What is a fairy godmother?" - Marlene asked, earnestly, indicating her lack of knowledge in children's stories and books.

Her head moved at an uncomfortable angle, turning backwards to look at mortuary cosmetologist.

"I am settled in. You may proceed when ready. I will comply with whatever instructions you give me."

... Unusual.

Marlene simply watched the whole sequence of motions and emotions that the strange sleeping girl went through in the course of the next few seconds. Going from being awake to being terrified to ballistic, to confused. The automaton did not manage to stop her launch out of her chair, nor her hard landing on her back. It was fortunate that Jun did not hit the back of her head against the hard floor. But she did appear disoriented, somewhat, with the who-what-where she had been asking. 

Most people would gasp and worry and fidget and say sorry a dozen times over by now. Marlene was calm, instead. Studying the girl on the floor for any signs of serious injury. There was none. Good. 

"Hello." - she answered monotonously, bringing a hand up to wave, when she was greeted. "My name is Marlene Lovechild. I have been tasked with cleaning this room. I cleaned most of the room, save the spot you were sitting at."

She would offer Jun a hand to stand up. 

"Are you injured? I do not see any bloodstains on my nice clean floor." - she said, having inspected the place of falling. And wiping over it with a mop a few times, after the girl had moved herself from it. Every movement Marlene made made a small mechanical whirr. Being either too smooth or too sudden and angular for comfort. And yet, uncannily efficient, in its own way. The automaton turned her head, looking over the paints and models still on the table. It did not seem like any of them were knocked over.

"What were you doing here? The classes are over." - she asked curiously, still eyeing the models. What kinds were there?

Every once in a while, students at the Academy were put on janitorial duty.

Reasons were multiple. It was a tradition in Japan, ever since elementary school. It also helped save money on hiring janitors to sweep the floors and clean the tables. It was also supposed to instill the spirit of the community, but nobody believed that. Today was Marlene's turn to provide free cleaning. She was supposed to be joined by several other students on this floor, but all of them were suddenly very busy with important things that required their presence and attention. Some of the reasons cited including feeding the dog, visiting mom at a hospital, and having left a clothing iron unplugged. She had to cover for all of them. Each of them was immensely grateful, of course. One of them even called Marlene "a good friend". Surely, they were honest with the naive little automaton. Surely.

And even if they were not, Marlene did not mind it. She never minded much of anything, and simply undertook the job with the methodical efficiency of the machine. Sweeping, washing the floors, wiping the tables, wiping the blackboard, wiping the countertops, change water in the bucket, wash the rugs. Repeat. Room after room. Until it was done. People passed her by as the classes were over, and soon enough there were hardly anyone left. Except ... for one place. 

Marlene's heavy steps echoed against the creaky wooden floor. Inside, she found a girl. She was surrounded by small toy soldiers, and next to her there were paints and brushes. She was sound asleep, it seemed. How curious. I wonder if I should wake her up...

She didn't. Instead, she just worked a bit slower, and quieter. But still, efficient. The floors were swept, then washed, and so on and so forth. This was the last room the automaton girl was supposed to be taking care off. Eventually, the only place not tidied up was a small circle around the table at which Jun was napping. There was no other option. To complete the task, Marlene had to wake her up. Looming over a bit, she carefully reached out, and rested her small, yet heavy hand on the girl's shoulder.

"Awaken."