favorite place || reed900

one.

Gavin's dusty emerald eyes shot open swiftly, lightning bolts of static traveling across his limbs, speeding up his coming out of stasis, something humans would describe as adrenaline if he remembered correctly. His system detected a threat of some sort, though when he checked his surroundings, he was exactly where he was supposed to be; the Eden Club warehouse, surrounded by the copious other dormant androids that were also charging up for their next shift. Why had none of them woken up?

The GV900 cautiously stepped off of the electrified platform he'd previously been quarantined to, feeling the flow of energy leave his vessel in an instant. His LED flickered slowly from a vibrant cerulean to dull amber as he shuffled his way between his coworkers, scanning the warehouse every few minutes, trying desperately to find the source of his processor's stress. This didn't make sense. 

Gavin felt his thirium pump working wildly within his chest, the android swearing to himself that he could practically hear the liquid making its way to his biocomponents. Every test he ran failed to notice anyone out of the ordinary in the warehouse; every heat scan, every night vision screening, he even went as far as running a diagnostics test on himself to make sure he didn't have some sort of virus clouding his judgment. 

Shaking his head gently, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion and minute worry (although he wouldn't admit it to himself), the sex-bot strode back to his charging pad, almost missing the crack in the emergency exit directly behind himself, allowing the dull light of the alley lamps to spill into the otherwise pitch-black storage room. Almost being the operative word.   

In all honesty, Gavin didn't know what he was thinking, pushing past the heavy metal door with the sudden unshakeable urge to find this mysterious cause of his anxiety. He should have just ignored it, he should have pulled the door closed and resumed charging since his shift was in an hour. Instead, he practically watched in third person as he strode into the dusty backstreet with caution, all the while watching as his level of stress increased with each step.

Just as soon as Gavin's LED flicked back to the default blue, it became an angry crimson once the android had picked up on the unmistakable sound of feet digging into the rough mixture of concrete and gravel. With stress levels skyrocketing, he swiveled himself around to face the source of the sound, suddenly in the presence of what looked to be another android. An AP700 to be specific. 

"Oh, hello." Gavin's usually mellow and husky voice had been accompanied by an almost unnoticeable twinge of static. Strange, he thought to himself, but understood everything once he glanced at the mystery android's stress level and saw a menacing red eighty-two percent staring back at him. What he didn't understand, though, was why it was that high. The man in front of him was just a harmless household android, wasn't he?

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There was nothing in this world Niles Stern had hated more than being brought back from the depths of his REM cycle after hours of secluded drinking in the disgustingly early hours of a Saturday night, but that seemed to be exactly what was happening. Fucking hell. 

The deafening loud ringing of his phone was the only thing Niles could focus on. The stubborn man pulled a pillow over his head on instinct, shoving his face deep into the mattress below and groaning in pain. He swore that if he focused hard enough, he could steadily feel his brain thumping harshly against his skull, the collagen cage feeling as though it'd been bashed in by a crowbar. What the hell went down at the bar before he came home? Maybe, if he stayed still and ignored the neverending chime for long enough, it would simply go away and he could go back to his coma. 

And it did... for about three seconds. Even through the heavy pillow, the all too cheery jingle pounded against his eardrums and made his hangover induced migraine far worse. Another miffed groan was elicited from the detective, again muffled by the plush mattress pressed against his face. The little song and dance situation between Niles and the anonymous caller had gone on for what seemed like hours, and finally, the brunet had had enough.