Reaching Out

Though the tension between Brad and Alesha Kane was palpable over the next couple of days, things steadily grew back to normal in the Kane household--at least, as normal as they could. Alesha, having few ungrateful bones in her body, quickly forgave Brad his choice of nanny--and his choice of words--though Brad, feeling as though he'd let his wife down, took a bit longer to recooperate.

However, as days passed and their stress levels waned, Alesha and Brad once again fell into the passionate embraces of their honeymoon years, where things between them had never looked brighter.

... And then there was Lilobot.

Much to Alesha's amazement, Lilobot turned out to be exactly the type of nanny Brad said she would be. From dawn til dusk, she waited on Margo hand-and-foot as if she was some sort of princess; too young to know the difference between sim and simbot, Margo regarded her new caretaker as she did any member of the family.

After not too long, Margo ceased to cry any more in the night; Alesha discovered, one morning, that it was because Lil had started taking her 'recharge' cycles right in the baby's room, so that she had nothing to fear. Lilobot's level of care was a thing of beauty.

But, not only had she proven herself a worthy babysitter, she'd also shown herself to be a worthy maid. It was a welcome surprise to Alesha that not only had Brad programmed her with such gentleness towards their daughter, but a particularly strong neat streak.

What can you say; when Alesha came home from work to find her entire house radiant and fresh from roof to floorboards, she just about smooched their new metal companion right on the cheek.

... However. To say that Lilobot was 'perfect' would be an unfortunately misplaced overstatement. In all capacities she had been specifically designed for? Yes; perfect, exceptional, brilliant. But everything else? ... Well. There are some things that Brad could not forsee, for all his levels of genius.

See, it's a dangerous thing, to build a robot that you never intend to leave the house and yet program them with an insatiable curiousity for the world. It wasn't long before every nook and cranny of the house had been inspected, cataloged, and re-cataloged in Lil's positronic matrix... and that's when the trouble started.

Lil began to grow restless. Bored... Caged.

It started with simple things.

"If I just stick this screwdriver straight into the input receptor, and turn it a radial degree of 16-percent, I can increase our reception by three hundred--"

Lilobot paused, and cocked her head to the side.

"Wait, is the screen supposed to crack like that?"

Needless to say, Bradley was not pleased.

And then, there were those pesky things called rules. Bull-plumbob she couldn't immerse herself in water! Come now, if she was going to get clean, she was going to do it the same way as everyone else!

"Bubbles, bubbles, bubbles! Soapy surface tension really is so remarka--"

BZZZZZzzZZTtzttztztztttttttttt.

After they managed to get the power back on, and after three hours of Brad and Alesha boredly blow drying Lilobot's electric components, Brad finally was able to fix her back into operation mode.

Needless to say, Bradley definitely wasn't pleased.

Though there was a junkyard only several hundred feet from the house, Lil's duties--and her rules--restricted her from traveling there when she was running low on supplies, and sometimes when Brad was a bit late getting her her next collection of scrap...

"Why, this looks like it has all the components I need!"

Unfortunately, Alesha was not as excited to see her mother's record player about to be smashed as Lilobot was.

And then, there was the art that Lilobot just couldn't seem to master.

"Guys! GUYS! Come look! The blended mixture of flour and eggs appears to finally be baking! Can't you smell them?! I'm making COOKIES!"

Needless to say, Bradley was furious.

Day after day, it was the same ol' drill. "Don't do that, Lil!" "Lil, NO!" "You're doing it wrong!" "Lil, you're going to burn down the house!"

All she wanted was to have a bit of fun. You know, fun? Didn't human sims understand fun? Lil was starting to think that they didn't--or that, she didn't.

"Maybe I'm b-broken," her mechanical voice wheezed to herself at night, when her melancholy box of bolts had begun to consider giving up. Maybe she'd stop trying, maybe she'd turn off her emotion matrix... maybe she'd run away.

Things just weren't looking up for Lilobot. At least... not yet.

"Hey Liiiiillllll," Alesha voice cried from the kitchen one Saturday afternoon. There was a particular spring in her step that morning, and it just wouldn't go away. Ever since Lil had joined their household, Alesha had never felt more relaxed and free... And she had come to realize, it wasn't because of Brad. It was because of Lil.

Despite Lil's shortcomings, she truly was trying. There was an innocence about her that Alesha identified with, and she knew: it was time to give this a shot. It was time to stop treating her like a simbot, and start treating her like family.

Food was always a good place to start.

"Yes, Mrs. Kane?" Lilbot asked in a bright voice as she happily bobbed into the room--a voice that had improved considerably since her creation day. "Was there something you needed?"

"No, no, not really--" With a glance down at the plate, Alesha mustered her courage and continued, "See, I just... I made you cookies!"

Lil's mechanical eyebrows wiggled in surprised. "Cookies? For... For me?"

"Yeah! See, Lil, I--" This was a lot harder than Alesha had imagined. "I know things have been rough for you lately, but I haven't shown you how much I appreciate everything you do for the family. Any... Well... I want to make it up to you. I know it's not much, but, well..." Her eyes averted to the cookies again. Man, did they smell good.

"That is very generous of you, Mrs. Kane!" Lil responded, her voice perky and clearly surprised. "I am most grateful! However, my internal processes are designed to digest raw metal for repairs and maintanence--but I'm sure I'll enjoy them anyways!"

"Ah... Oh. I... didn't think about that." DUH. Duh, Alesha. Robots don't eat food. 'Great, I could not look any more stupid right now,' she thought to herself. "I just thought that, since you're always trying to learn to make them..."

"Oh, I just saw on TV that children particularly delight in the partaking of baked goods! I wanted to learn, for when Margo is old enough to *bzzt* insert Nom NOM *bzzt* them. However, my olfactory synapses detect that that chocolate would likely not damage my internal crushers--so I will gladly put some in my belly!"

"Er... okay." Alesha's eyebrows raised; but... At least Lil's conversation skills were getting better.

Watching Lilobot eat her first cookie was possibly the most bizarre--and most adorable--things that Alesha had ever seen. Crumbs were flying everywhere despite Lil's tragic attempts at neatness; she was constantly bobbing her head from side to side, back and forth, to try to get the pieces to fall the right way down her throat. "Nom nom!" she remarked occasionally--clearly, she'd watched too many lolcat videos.

And yet, her face betrayed a happiness Alesha had never seen her experience before. She wasn't sure if Lil could even taste the cookie, but the sensation... the new experience... Being, for once, allowed to act like a human.

Alesha couldn't help but feel a hint of pride.

Their afternoon cookie-fest was ended abruptly by Margo's cries, and for several more hours Alesha didn't get a chance to converse with Lil about the experience. By the time she got some one-on-one time with Lil again, Brad had already returned from his fishing trip, Margo had already been put to bed, and the sun had already set.

"So?" Alesha asked, a sheepish smile on her lips. "How was it?"

"It was... thankful."

Alesha furrow her brows, clearly confused. "What do you mean?"

"I thought I was broken, and that I would need to be fixed for you to like me. I didn't want to be fixed. I am... happy... I think... with who I am. I want you to be happy. So I am... thankful... for your gift. Now I do not have to be fixed."

"No, Lil," Alesha said with a soft smile. "In fact, the only thing Brad has talked about upgrading is your speech... cortex... thingy. So you can communicate better."

"Oh, but I am working on that! I am fixing it myself, through adaptation and processing of arduous amounts of television content!"

Alesha laughed. "Yeah?"

"Allow me to demonstrate!" Lil responded with a particularly dramatic bow, and a fake "clearing" of her throat.

"Hey! Yo! What up, dawg! You my homey! How 'bout you jump in mah low rider, yo?! Fo shizzle, nizzle! *bzzzt* I ain't tellin' you, whaaaaaaaaaaat?! You so sly! I'm gonna bounce yo Plumbbob so high you gonna think the sun turned green, yo!"

It took every muscle in Alesha's body to try and not burst out laughing--and unfortunately, they all utterly failed. "That.. That was..." She nearly doubled over in tears.

"Was something *bzzt* wrong?" Lilobot asked, quite confused what was so funny about her performance.

"That's... not how you should talk, sweetheart. I think you need to start watching some different stations... But, for an impression? That was... pretty... good," she managed to get out between heaving laughter.

"But I... But... Oh, well. I believed all human content to be relevent--"

"Look, how about I show you some real television, alright? As long as you promise never to talk like that again... I think I can promise that Brad will never try to 'fix' your speech mabobby. Deal?"

"Er... Deal," Lil said with a heavy, robotic sigh.

"Alright," Alesha said with a slight squeal, grabbing Lil's hinged elbow and tugging her towards the stairs. "Now, let's go watch some Simmore Girls and introduce you to some real TV!"

---

She could feel the guitar string tremble under her fingertips. In a way, it made her feel alive again. Whole again.

Amelia had taken to performing, again, though not for work. She'd picked up some two-bit job at the theatre, just doing maintanence for the upcoming stars that graced the stage that she had used to walk. Naomi was clearly the bread-winner, but Mia had taken her mother's advice and started working just to keep herself occupied. It sure beat sitting around the house, waiting for an undead monster to walk through her front door and finish the job.

But, music was still her life. The Steel Stallion was getting tired of it's old bluegrass performers, so twice a week Amelia got to strum her stuff to a crowd of drunk rednecks grinding it up on the dance floor. They didn't hear her--didn't see her--but she knew, she wasn't there for them. She was there for herself.

But who that was... she wasn't sure anymore. Her face was not the same. Nothing had changed--and yet, everything had changed. There was something within her she didn't recognize anymore, and to look upon her reflection disgusted her.

It was the emptiness, in her eyes. She tried to hide it, tried to fight it, but it was no use; something that night had been taken from her. Something she'd never get back.

"So tell, me, Amelia... How have you been feeling, lately?"

Doctor Harris de Wynter. Nice enough guy, Amelia guessed. Had his heart in the right place, and was clearly a brilliant psychiatrist. Clearly, because he was expensive. Naomi footed the bill without hesitation, but it didn't make the whole thing less dreadful when Amelia sat down on the cushioned chair for Crazy People to spill her guts to Mr. Stranger.

"Amelia?"

"Oh, sorry, I was just... I was just thinking."

"About?"

"Just the Steel Stallion. Been playing there off and on the last couple of weeks. They did some remodelling, it looks pretty nice now--just was thinking to myself that it's too bad they can't remodel the people that go there."

"Any particular reason why you'd want them to be remodeled?" Dr. de Wynter asked, with what Amelia assumed was feigned curiousity. He was just trying to get his money's worth outta her, she knew it!

"They're just... typical Twinbrookians. Don't know how to shower, can't dance worth a penny, don't tip, hump anything that moves..."

"Do you wish they were more like the people you knew back in Bridgeport?"

"Bridgeport? I... Maybe." Amelia paused. He clearly was trying to direct her someplace she didn't want to go, so, still avoiding eye contact, she continued rambling to the opposite corner of the cieling. "It's more just that every time I go in there, I see someone that has no business being around other sims. Like, my brother. I mean, seriously. The guy can't stay faithful to his wife for one second. All I wanted to do was go and have a nice drink, but no, he's gotta be there wooing some tart like he's--"

"Amelia," Harris cut her off.

"What?"

"Ms. Kane, I must be frank. You clearly are avoiding the reason you're here. I understand, this is very hard for you, and I do want you to take your time to get comfortable, but this is your third session in my office and you've made every possible attempt not to talk about your experience in Bridgeport... And unfortunately, if you do not talk about it, we cannot fix it."

Dr. de Wynter clearly was right, but it didn't make the topic any easier. She didn't talk to this to anyone, not even Naomi... What made him so different? The fact he had a certificate of Prudeness on the wall?

"Look, it's just... It's just not easy. We're talking, I went through things that most people don't even believe are possible. I don't want to sound crazy. Because I'm not crazy. But what happened... was crazy."

"Amelia, you have to trust me, that I do believe you to the fullest. I don't believe that you are delusional, or that what you went through wasn't true. I've been briefed fully on the specific facts of what happened... But it's your job to fill me in on the details, from your perspective."

"The details? The details? You mean, the fact that my boyfriend betrayed me for immortality? Selling my blood to the highest bidder, so he could get a pair of fangs and kill more innocent women?"

"Were you in love with him?"

"Yeah. I was. I loved him... More than I thought I loved anything in the world. He was everything I wanted. Artistic, cool, dark, dreamy, exciting, daring... He treated me like a goddess. Treated me like I was the love of his life until he tried to suck me dry, watched me fall to the floor at his feet. Laughing. Like it was some sort of game."

"And then..."

"He died. Right before my eyes. I watched him kill me, and then I watched him die. The man I loved."

"Jerod Grant was clearly a very disturbed individual, Amelia. But you shouldn't think that what you felt for him was fake because he was fake. You were mislead, like so many people are, and  you were betrayed. There is no greater pain then that. And it will take time, for you to learn to feel that way again. To trust someone, again."

"Can we please... can we please talk about something else? Like, daddy issues or something? I don't feel very good," Amelia croaked as she looked down at her knees, trying to keep herself composed.

"Of course. I think we've covered enough about that topic for one day."

She wanted to cry, but the emptiness filling her prevented it. She would have died just to have one tear...

... but deep within her, part of her knew: she was already dead.