[[This is, at the moment, a private RP between myself and one called Kittycat97.]]

Ike removed the USB cables from the robot's head.
"Test run," he said. "Do ten jumping jacks."
The robot did ten jumping jacks, then stopped.
"Good, good, I haven't messed up that..." Ike murmured, picking up the robot's facial skin and hair. He affixed the rubber face to the plastic exterior of the robot's head, hooking the chin and ears together. He pulled out a hot iron to melt the facial skin to the skin on the neck, adjusted the nose, and set to work. He had honed the art of melting skin so a seam didn't show in the past few weeks, so once he had finished, there was no visible transition between face and neck. Ike felt the skin to make sure the seam was sound. Then he picked up the hair and attached it in a similar fashion.
He pulled the robot's facial plate down to make sure it didn't tear the skin. It did not, to Ike's pleasure, and he made a quick survey of the robot's internal sensory preceptors.
"Look at me," he said. The robot's eyes were pulled by artificial muscles to rotate to face him. Ike held up three fingers. "How many fingers am I holding up?" he asked. The robot made three inner clicks.
"That number is pronounced 'three,'" Ike said. He had purposefully not taught the robot how to speak, so it could learn English on its own, like a human. It had to know some commands, so Ike could test it without having it hooked up to the computer.
"Three," the robot said. A huge grin spread across Ike's face. The robot hadn't merely played back a recording of Ike's own voice, but had pronounced the word itself, in its own voice, using its mouth to form the word. Ike gave the robot a hug, to which it did not respond.
"OK," Ike said, "Test all systems."
The robot made several contortions, bending itself in every way it could think of. It recited the vocal test program, the meaning of which it did not know ("A, E, I, O, U. In Hartford, Hereford and Hampshire, hurricanes hardly ever happen. The rain in Spain stays mainly on the Plain. Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers. I suggest that you chew a few chips and a chop at Skipper Zipps Clipper Ship Chip Chop shop. One of them is the first names of the Fudnuddler Brothers, who like to stand on the heads of the others. George Washington, John Adams, Thomas Jefferson, James Madison, John Quincy Adams, Andrew Jackson. Space, the final frontier. These are the voyages of the Starship Enterprise. Her five-year mission to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations, to boldly go where no man has gone before," followed by humming the Star Trek theme music), spun its eyes in every direction it could, crossed its eyes, wiggled its ears (a feature Ike had promised himself he'd add), walked five feet then came back, then repeated the process running, skipping, spinning, crawling, and any other method of pedestrian locomotion you can think of, then came to a stop and said, "All systems functional."
"Excellent!" Ike said, putting on a British accent for no particular reason. "Now time to feed you the proverbial apple..."
He found the holes in the robot's hair where the USB cables could once again be attached. Once the cables were in, the robot returned to the rest position and closed its eyes. Ike sat down at his Macintosh and ran the program he had entitled "The_Serpent." Ike was atheist, for all intents and purposes, and he greatly enjoyed pretending to play God, even if nobody could see he was doing it.
The robot's eyes opened.
"Good afternoon, miss," Ike said, as if he was talking to a complete stranger. The_Serpent ought to have cleared the robot's memory of things like the test procedure, and any recognition of Ike. "My name is Ike Ralin. Your name is Artificial Intelligence and Cognitive Ability Robot Female Variant Version 7.4.6 Ralin, but I'm sure you'd like a better name for yourself. What can I call you?"

((Nice first post.))

The moment it was aware of its own existence, Artificial Intelligence and Cognitive Ability Robot Female Variant Version 7.4.6 Ralin opened its eyes.

New things, all of them alien, assaulted its artificial senses. Things she could not begin to name: things such as color, odor, texture, sound, and even the thin, metallic taste of laboratory air. It felt something click in the subconscious of its mind, registering to memory each of these new experiences and documenting them for later use. Slowly, as if it was awakening from a sleep, it began to remember some of the names and properties of these things. What purposes they served. Its thoughts functioned in ones and zeroes, the language of technology; unaware to the machine, information and memories were being documented into the storage area of its artificial brain in a similar faashion.

"Good afternoon, miss, my name is Ike Ralin. Your name is Artificial Intelligence and Cognitive Ability Robot Female Variant Version 7.4.6 Ralin, but I'm sure you'd like a better name for yourself. What can I call you?"
Its vision locked on a figure near it, registering the movement to mean that this object was different from the others that surrounded it. The_Serpent had done its job, and memories not computer-programmed into it were wiped away. As it was, the robot was only experiencing the knowledge it did possess when such an occurrence happened to drag it out of the 'subconscious' memory storage of its mind: like the colors of its surroundings, for example: when Artificial Intelligence and Cognitive Ability Robot Female Variant Version 7.4.6 Ralin looked at the polyhedron structures surrounding the enclosure she was currently in, thoughts came into its immediate mind in ones and zeroes: Metallic silver and copper. It, for the moment, did not know where the information came from; but, the program design worked and the knowledge was there.

Presently the robot's thoughts were affixated to the moving, sound-generating object before it. Alive. The word and its meaning came into its mind.

"Ralin..." The word sounded strange to her - so different from the ones and zeroes of her thoughts. The translation came then, and it understood. It struggled with the alien language that this object - this live object - used, but the translator in her silicon brain served its purpose well. Haltingly at first, she said: "Ralin. Ralin... is part of my name." It seemed puzzled like this, and involuntarily the hints of an expression showed itself on its face. Then there was a hint of understanding as the robot's processor came to a conclusion. "You... built... me."

Abruptly the robot moved - turned its head downwards to look at itself. It saw, with its artificial eyes, light skin covering appendages similar to that of the human - as its brain dictated - standing near it, except said appendages were thinner, more curvacious. Female. It realized that this classified it - her - as what she was, noting that the word also appeared in her formal name. She saw long, silky strands of something dangling around her to her waist - something connected to her head. Hair. Brunette hair. She could not, of course, view her heart-shaped face and long-lashed blue eyes, but that was to be expected. Instinctively a signal went to some part of her body - her hand - and the appendage raised to her face - all the information she was recieving was almost too much. She felt a smooth, rubbery substance and, a bit perplexed, pinched a fold of the stuff hard - only to discover the sensation of pain, one she felt was not pleasant.

Her mind - now stretched so thin in the attempt to comprehend everything - once again focussed on the one in front of her - Ike Ralin. The... question he had asked.

What can I call you?

The question, she realized, meant that the name Artificial Intelligence and Cognitive Ability Robot Female Variant Version 7.4.6 Ralin was impractical. Namely caused by the instance that this language the human spoke - English - the words - breaks in the sound called speech - were short. She had no idea why but some emotion alien to her - curiosity - invaded her mind, wondering why. Such unimportant information had not been included in her data banks.

But the problem at hand was that she needed a name.

At the one-and-zero-coded thought, millions of strange words popped into her immediate mindframe. Abigail, Annemarie, Alanna... They were ordered alphabetically, each section starting with the same strange symbol.

Overwhelmed by the vast amount of combinations, she picked a name at random.

"Stella. I am... Stella." Her voice was relying on the phonetic spelling of each name and the translator's ability to make it into zeroes and ones - it sounded a bit off and the inflection was wrong. The voice itself sounded almost like the female recording voice on answering machines and such - halting and metallic. However, a little more believable - just a bit more human. "Stella," she repeated to herself, quietly. The sound of it. She liked the sound of it.

As each second ticked by and her gaze wandered, alighting on everything one by one, her artificially intelligent mind found more and more to be overwhelmed with, as each glance she took at anything meant an explosion of words and definitions and ones and zeroes going off in her head - an explosion of analytical why and what-if thoughts, hypothesizing about everything. Stella was learning - or rather discovering, for the information had been previously programmed into a safe storage area of her mind - quickly. But, as she noticed, she was learning little about the human - the humans, the plural - and anything to do with life or its interaction. Her mind's inner workings were focused purely on the simple, easier-to-understand machines and objects and shapes. Stella did not know that little to nothing of humans - aside from basic information like appearance, the fact of their mortality, gender etc. - had been programmed into her mind, namely for the reason that humans and animals, unlike objects and plants, had minds and personalities and behaviors of their own that were impossible to define or analyze.

Stella's knowledge of objects would continue to expand - temporarily. Soon, the easily-understood things would become second nature to her. However, humans and their complexities were something that she would have to discover and understand on her own, without the help of a program or a computer.

[[Are you really eleven?]]

Ike's face brightened when the robot asserted that it had been built by him. He hadn't expected her to realize that so soon. He scowled slightly, wondering if perhaps he had made the robot too intelligent. He had, after all, based her projected IQ off his own, so that was a likely possibility.

Ike watched the robot survey herself. Ike watched with a nervous expression. He had had to make some modifications to the normal human anatomy. The robot's batteries, for instance, were located inside her breasts. Together, they were too large to be stored where the heart usually resided, and that space was occupied by the robot's one lung. Lungs were not so important for the robot---it only needed air to aid in speech, not to keep it alive. The space usually occupied by the lungs contained the large shoulder motors and each shoulder's secondary brain. Ike hadn't been able to cram all the sensory perception into one brain along with everything else, so he had given each limb its own secondary brain that took commands from the main brain. There were other secondary brains as well, including a balance keeper where the robot's liver should have been. The robot's stomach was a bit of a superfluous organ. It had the ability, given the right components, to construct any part of the robot's inner workings small enough to fit inside. Unfortunately, for the part to be replaced, the stomach had to be opened and the part removed, cleaned (the stomach was full of lube) and attached to the proper place in the robot's body.

Ike wondered when or if the robot would notice that it was naked. In the first few robots he had built Ike had eliminated private parts, or had them always covered, but the thought dawned on him that some versions would want those bits present and usable, so Ike included them. The awkward feelings had left him after version 6.8.2, and now he took the matter wholly in stride.

The robot stared blankly into space. Well, not entirely blankly. She had a look of concentration. Ike scowled. The last robot to assert that it had been built by Ike, then stare into space with a look of concentration, had come out with the realization that the best course of action would be to kill him.

"Stella," the robot said, slowly, with the accent not quite on the right syllable. The scowl vacated Ike's face, chased out once again by sheer joy. It had understood his question, and given a cognitive answer! Only two of her predecessors had managed that, and one of them---I remembered as the scowl came back---had tried to kill him. "I am Stella," the robot continued.

Stella? Ike didn't like that. It sounded like a name from some high-school kid's studies of Japanese culture through fictional media (manga and anime). But hey, it was her name, after all, and it was better than Aicarofev V746, which is what he had planned on calling her. Asking her for a name had been an afterthought. The main reason Ike had programmed all those names into her brain was so she could make out what was a person and what was a thing as she learned the finer points of English, not to name herself.

((Why is it that I get that so much?? Lol. Yes. What reason would I have to pretend to be eleven? Haha. Believe me though, it is a challenge playing a robot - I've never done it before.))

Despite Ike's fears, presently Stella found no logic or reason behind the destruction of her 'creator'. Afterall, he was doing nothing to harm her, and asking nothing unreasonable or impolite - therefore harming him or anything else in the area was illogical and wasteful.

Within minutes, she had successfully named, defined, and analyzed each unmoving object in the room and, feeling a bit out of place, looked for something else to study. Because the first thing she had involuntarily and voluntarily done in her aware existence was study, learn, analyze and discover, she had come to the conclusion that she was existing merely to study - something she was not unhappy with. She could see no other purpose for herself as of the moment and so turned back to another comparison of herself to Ike Ralin, who was in front of her.

Now as she was a bit less overwhelmed by her surroundings and the sudden senses of existence, she noticed more details.

She noticed, as her artificial blue eyes moved up and down him analytically, that his figure wasn't smooth and connected, or even one color, like her own; it seemed as if peices of him were disconnected. Her eyebrows furrowed briefly. Almost instantly after a quick search of her programming relating to humans, she realized that he was covered by things that weren't a part of him, unlike herself - clothing. The word, processed into ones and zeroes, brought up a whole new section of her memory banks relating to the uses, definition and characteristics of clothing, that a very high percentage of humans wore them, images of what types of clothing were 'modern' or 'normal' which would evolve as time went on and she observed and gathered more information, and more.

With the information about clothes came the realization that Stella wasn't wearing any.

Once again, the robot's gaze locked to herself: she began a more thorough examination. Every part of herself that she could easily reach or view she poked, prodded, stared at: a bit comical, really. She gained - or rather, remembered - more information on female human anatomy, as well as movement, many types of which she discovered her body easily able to perform. Stella did not seem at all bashful or embarrassed about being naked - why should she be? There was no good reason she could find. 'Modesty' was a human characteristic that was a taught behavior, not an instinct, therefore the quality was not programmed into her - yet.

One of the reasons for clothing, she discovered, was warmth. But as her internal thermometer checked the room's temperature she discovered that it was comfortable. There was no logic in wearing clothing only for decor. So Stella was puzzled.

Impulsively she moved forward, towards Ike, and reached out to touch his shirt - which had a soft, thin feel to it.

"Ike Ralin... Why?" her metallic voice sounded, slowly, mind still becoming accustomed to translating zeroes and ones into English and pronouncing it. "These... clothes. They... are not logical. The temperature of this... room is normal, not... cold. These serve no purpose." Her speech, once again, was slightly halting, but becoming more normal the more she spoke.

Ike giggled.
"It's a...cultural thing," he said. "Human beings rarely do things that are logical simply because it's a logical thing to do. However, they do have a certain, rather warped sense of logic that they follow, that they call things like "decency." Humans tend to assume, despite their nature, that if someone is a certain way or doing a certain thing that's out of the ordinary, they have a good reason for it. If you go around naked, people automatically assume you have a reason for being naked, because normally, people wear clothing. I couldn't tell you why it became that way, but I can tell you that if you go outside, or anywhere where random strangers can see you, you'll get funny looks. You might even get arrested."

She wasn't a raving lunatic! This was a huge success for Ike. She was a little odd---he'd have to wait a while before showing her to anybody, but she wasn't trying to smash things, she wasn't trying to kill him, and she hadn't died. Versions 5.5 through 6.3 had all died after having The_Serpent run on them. Ike wasn't sure what happened to them. They just wouldn't respond to anything. Ike had assumed they had been stuck in infinite loops or something.

"Ooh!" Ike said. "I just thought...do you think you can put clothes on on your own? Here..." he walked down a small hallway and out of Stella's sight. He walked into his bedroom and took a shirt and a pair of pants out of his dresser. He didn't have any girl underwear, though. Well...she was a robot, after all. She wouldn't mind boxers.

Ike returned with the clothing in a ball in his arms, which he deposited in front of Stella. Sitting on an incredibly '70s sofa, he fished out a shirt, which he recognized as his vintage "Star Trek Revival 2009" shirt that he had gotten at a convention about seven years ago. He handed it to Stella, then stood up again and walked to the glass sliding door on the wall opposite the stairs. He thought for a minute on whether or not he should lock it, then realized that Stella was rather intelligent, and could easily open the door if she wanted.
"Stay inside, please." he said, drawing the curtains. People rarely walked past here, but Ike figured now that Stella was indistinguishable from any random normal human, and one who just so happened to be naked and in Ike's house, Ike would rather play it safe.

"And you can just call me Ike," he said. "I've got some friends who'll want to come over to see you. Is that OK?"

Stella heard a strange sound come from the mouth of her so-called creator and looked up, removing her artificial hand from his chest. When checking for similar sounds in her databanks, she found all sorts of laughs - something that, when confirmed, told her that Ike found something amusing about her or the question.

She wondered what he found so amusing.

"It's a...cultural thing," he said. Still puzzled, Stella listened on. "Human beings rarely do things that are logical simply because it's a logical thing to do. However, they do have a certain, rather warped sense of logic that they follow, that they call things like 'decency.' Humans tend to assume, despite their nature, that if someone is a certain way or doing a certain thing that's out of the ordinary, they have a good reason for it. If you go around naked, people automatically assume you have a reason for being naked, because normally, people wear clothing. I couldn't tell you why it became that way, but I can tell you that if you go outside, or anywhere where random strangers can see you, you'll get funny looks. You might even get arrested."

Although the female robot felt that she had gotten a slightly better grasp on the matter (what made most sense to her was the part he had stated about humans' warped sense of logic) she couldn't fully comprehend the humans' tendencies to, as Ike had said, jump to conclusions as such. However she was intelligent enough to realize that to completely understand humans, which she found unlikely, she would have to further observe them at the very least.

She was doing nothing, really, but studying Ike and feeling a bit useless once again, when came his voice again. "Ooh!" The exclamation, as it was supposed to, grabbed the attention of the robot and locked her gaze to his smiling face. Smiling. She wondered why he was so happy. "I just thought...do you think you can put clothes on on your own? Here..."

Why would she want to put clothes on? Illogical. She was not human nor did she feel any compulsion whatsoever by 'culture' or 'decency' to do so. But, it wouldn't hurt to put them on and, from what Ike Ralin had said, clothes could be important in observing the world she knew existed outside of this box of a room - she could see the green through the glass window in the apartment. That made the clothes logical. Therefore she gave her silent consent.

He moved out of her line of sight. Unfazed, Stella, face impassive for she had yet to discover the true need, use or value of emotions, walked around touching things - not all information could be obtained from only looking. As she touched, the textures were stored in her memory and identified into English words and ones and zeroes.

He came back a moment later carrying a ball of fabric which he deposited at Stella's feet, handing her a 'Star Trek' Revival 2009 T-shirt, which puzzled her as she stared at the logo. Her databanks confirmed that the current year was 2016. Which meant that this shirt was rather old.

It didn't matter. She quickly figured out how to drag the biggest hole over her head and put her arms through the smaller holes - the entire shirt fell to he rthighs. A baggy and loose but not uncomfortable garment, as she found it to be. The boxers she had a bit more trouble with - she could not see anything similar on Ike Ralin, but then assumed that it was what was called 'underwear' which, in Stella's opinion was, again, illogical. In any case she put them on, then the baggy pair of sweatpants which kept falling down. Beginning to feel the emotion called frustration, she tried the belt that lay last in the clothing pile - which, as she was close to delighted to discover, worked.

"Stay inside, please."

Stella registered the command and, seeing as it was not unreasonable and by his word choice the human was being polite, she found no logic or reason behind disobeying him. He was, afterall, her creator - a creator she knew she could destroy, but her creator nonetheless.

"And you can just call me Ike," he said. Stella mouthed it over - it was a bit different without the 'Ralin' tacked onto the end of it. "I've got some friends who'll want to come over to see you. Is that OK?"

After computing it a moment, Stella replied. "I see no issue with... the matter."

And then she pondered more on the fact that he was indeed her creator and that his reasons for 'friends' coming over to see her were propelled by this. "Ike..." she said, forming the question. "Why... did you create me? What... purpose... do I serve?" she asked, the inflection getting better and better, looking at him with the unnatural blue hues of her eyes.

"Ike..." the robot---no, Stella---said, "Why...did you create me?"
Ike froze. His jaw dropped open, a smile forming on his face.
"What..purpose...do I serve?"
He turned to Stella with an expression of utmost glee, his hands at his face, barely concealing his grin the size of Kentucky.
"I'm a genius!" he yelled, throwing his arms up in the air (in a "Goal!" sort of gesture). Strangers seeing his expression would have assumed he was some sort of monster raving loony.
After calming down, he began to answer her question. He sighed and walked over to cough. He gestured for Stella to sit as he did so himself, then realized she might not get his meaning, and said, "Please sit down."

"It's a long story," Ike said, stroking what would have been a beard if he didn't remember to shave every now and then. "I have made precisely one million versions of the very uncreatively named Artificial Intelligence and Cognitive Ability Robot, or Aicaro, for short. [[pronounced AIK-a-row]] You, personally, are version 7.4.6, so there were five other 7.4s before you, and three other 7s before that, each with their own number of iterations. And before that, there were 6 other versions, each of which had countless iterations. You don't need to worry about sibling rivalry, though, because none of them worked any kind of well, so I dismantled them. Most of your pieces are actually rather old, and have been used by at least one previous Aicaro. Most of that skin, in fact, was version 7.4.4's. Seven point four point five never got to the skin stage, because it never worked properly.

"Aicaro started off as a school project. I needed to make a robot for Autorobo and some sort of artificial intelligence something for AI, so, being lazy, I did one project that was both. Versions 1.1 through 1.6 were various iterations of a much simpler, smaller, semi-intelligent version. He was about a foot tall, and he didn't have most of the features you have. He could balance, move around, recognize most voice commands, and do math. That was pretty much it. The voice commands were also hard-coded, not learned, so you had to use specific keywords to talk to him. He could learn new keywords, but you had to say 'This is a new keyword' first. The fancy bit was that he could learn math. Better than I could, in fact. I wish he could have taken the calc AP exam for me...of course, I did get a five, but I was really stressed about it... Anyway, after him---he didn't have a name, he was just 'the robot' version whatever---came version 2, a variation that could learn other things besides math. None of them even came close to working, which brought me to version three, which was programmed in a whole new way."

Ike prattled on like this for about fifteen minutes, layout out every detail of nearly every Aicaro he had ever built. Most of the time, he only had to replace a certain piece, or rewrite a little bit of code, transitioning from, say, version 6.8.2 to 6.8.3. Sometimes, he had to go with a whole new body, but still the same basic idea, transitioning from 6.8 to 6.9, and sometimes he had to completely start again from scratch, transitioning from version 6 to version 7.

"The only one that's still fully intact is 1.6. He's upstairs. He might want to meet you, but he's a lot more robotish than you are. He doesn't really think, and he doesn't remember anything except math. Well, anything he thinks is math. If you tell him something's math, he won't question you, and he'll remember it. I taught him to sing "Summer, Highland Falls" three years ago, and he still thinks it's a clever trick to find the fourth derivative of an nth degree polynomial, when n is an odd number greater than five. Of course, you should never ask him to find the fourth derivative of an nth degree polynomial of that sort, because he'll tell you, 'it's either sadness, or euphoria.'" Ike chuckled, as if that made any sense.

"However, I still have all the Aicaros I've ever made, they're just in pieces. All except 6.8.2. She was another female iteration. She worked a little, as in you could talk to her and stuff, but she wasn't as good as you. I called her Janice. However, I made a foolish mistake with her. I brought her to a science fair and left here there overnight." Ike shrugged. "Never saw her again. I figure some bloody git went and nicked her. And those parts don't exactly grow on trees. I shelled out a lot of dough to build her. But, still, I haven't seen anyone selling a bunch of girl robots named Janice around here, so I assume whoever nicked her either broke her or isn't using her or her design to make money." He sighed again. "So...not as bad as it could be, eh? But, losing her, I wasn't able to reuse her frame to make the next one. So you're mostly new parts. Well, newer than her, anyway. There were still...like...twenty or so versions between you and her."

"But 'why.' 'Why,' you ask... Uh, I guess because I can. Or, I thought I could, for a while. Then it became a hobby for me. I don't know what I'll do now...now that you're finished and working. Well, I suppose I can't say that. You've worked wonderfully so far, but so did version 5.8, which died in the first week, and version 7.4.3, which went mad on me and tried to bump me off. So I'll keep you around for as long as you last. And if that's a good long time, well, more power to you."

[[I'm going to have some characters for Ike's friends. I have three in mind, one who is his current girlfriend, two who are just other guys. I also have a minor character who's one of the other guys' girlfriends, but she won't be much of anybody. I won't develop them so much as Ike unless you want to make some other characters, or take one of these guys.
Oh, you may want to check this out. It's a robots v. humans RP. We could steal these guys and use this RP as their backstory...]]

[[Okay, the three people sound good. I like to keep my attention focussed on developing one character, though, instead of spreading it out.
Also, with the humans vs. robots rp, I'm afraid you'll have to explain it a little for me. Do you mean that this RP - with the development of competent robots - could be what started that group one?]]

"I'm a genius!"

While Ike proceeded to perform the strange ritual of his apparent 'victory', Stella tried to comprehend what it was for. She could understand that he was rejoicing, both by his words and by the way he acted. However, she did not make the connection. Why was Ike Ralin so happy only to hear her ask a competent question? Surely she had not been the first. Or... had she?

After a few minutes of victory dancing, Ike calmed down and sat on the sofa. His motion was enough to prod Stella into sitting down next to him, though he voiced the words too: "Please sit down."

The robot did so and, for the next several minutes, was busily storing data on previous versions of herself.

"It's a long story," Ike said, stroking his chin as Stella watched, still for the most part impassive. [/i]"I have made precisely one million versions of the very uncreatively named Artificial Intelligence and Cognitive Ability Robot, or Aicaro, for short. You, personally, are version 7.4.6, so there were five other 7.4s before you, and three other 7s before that, each with their own number of iterations. And before that, there were 6 other versions, each of which had countless iterations. You don't need to worry about sibling rivalry, though, because none of them worked any kind of well, so I dismantled them. Most of your pieces are actually rather old, and have been used by at least one previous Aicaro. Most of that skin, in fact, was version 7.4.4's. Seven point four point five never got to the skin stage, because it never worked properly."[/i]

This was mostly unnecessary information, she knew. However, she silently listened on.

"Aicaro started off as a school project. I needed to make a robot for Autorobo and some sort of artificial intelligence something for AI, so, being lazy, I did one project that was both. Versions 1.1 through 1.6 were various iterations of a much simpler, smaller, semi-intelligent version. He was about a foot tall, and he didn't have most of the features you have. He could balance, move around, recognize most voice commands, and do math. That was pretty much it. The voice commands were also hard-coded, not learned, so you had to use specific keywords to talk to him. He could learn new keywords, but you had to say 'This is a new keyword' first. The fancy bit was that he could learn math. Better than I could, in fact. I wish he could have taken the calc AP exam for me...of course, I did get a five, but I was really stressed about it... Anyway, after him---he didn't have a name, he was just 'the robot' version whatever---came version 2, a variation that could learn other things besides math. None of them even came close to working, which brought me to version three, which was programmed in a whole new way."

She listened, silently filling the vast voids of her memory banks, as Ike prattled on about details of all her predecesors, also discovering new details about her own body which might be useful.

"The only one that's still fully intact is 1.6. He's upstairs. He might want to meet you, but he's a lot more robotish than you are. He doesn't really think, and he doesn't remember anything except math. Well, anything he thinks is math. If you tell him something's math, he won't question you, and he'll remember it. I taught him to sing "Summer, Highland Falls" three years ago, and he still thinks it's a clever trick to find the fourth derivative of an nth degree polynomial, when n is an odd number greater than five. Of course, you should never ask him to find the fourth derivative of an nth degree polynomial of that sort, because he'll tell you, 'it's either sadness, or euphoria.'"

He chuckled after this, and Stella wondered why he found his deception of the little, unsuspecting robot so amusing. However, the slight indignation present in her mind did not show on her face.

"However, I still have all the Aicaros I've ever made, they're just in pieces. All except 6.8.2. She was another female iteration. She worked a little, as in you could talk to her and stuff, but she wasn't as good as you. I called her Janice. However, I made a foolish mistake with her. I brought her to a science fair and left here there overnight." Ike shrugged, as if it didn't matter, but Stella had enough artificial intelligence to be able to tell that it did. "Never saw her again. I figure some bloody git went and nicked her. And those parts don't exactly grow on trees. I shelled out a lot of dough to build her. But, still, I haven't seen anyone selling a bunch of girl robots named Janice around here, so I assume whoever nicked her either broke her or isn't using her or her design to make money." He sighed. "So...not as bad as it could be, eh? But, losing her, I wasn't able to reuse her frame to make the next one. So you're mostly new parts. Well, newer than her, anyway. There were still...like...twenty or so versions between you and her."

Finally came the words Stella had been so patiently waiting for:

"But 'why.' 'Why,' you ask... Uh, I guess because I can. Or, I thought I could, for a while. Then it became a hobby for me."

The simple words were almost devastating in the robot's mind - and even her so-far-impassive face showed genuine distress. No purpose? No meaning? Just a useless whim of a bored guy with too much time on his hands? Oh, no. That wouldn't do.

But Ike kept on talking.

"I don't know what I'll do now... now that you're finished and working. Well, I suppose I can't say that. You've worked wonderfully so far, but so did version 5.8, which died in the first week, and version 7.4.3, which went mad on me and tried to bump me off. So I'll keep you around for as long as you last. And if that's a good long time, well, more power to you."

I'll keep you around for as long as you last. Somehow that didn't help her current identity crisis. Feeling a need to chastise a certain someone, if not feeling outright hostility towards them, she prepared to give Ike a new viewpoint on his creations.

"'Because you can'," Stella repeated. "'Because it's your hobby'. And... that is all? I... we... serve no purpose?" Her English had gotten better from hearing Ike speak and pronounce many words on his rant. "Nothing but the whim of a man with... 'too much time on his hands', as you humans say. You... you actually have not thought as far as a working model, have you? You have not... anticipated... something like me. You still look for flaws in my... design. You still wait for me to... malfunction. It is easy enough to... create... But not so easy... to give life a meaning... is it?" The words were slow, still being translated from what had taken her mind a few minutes to form. Her head turned to stare unnervingly at her creator with those too-blue eyes. She made no move towards hostility or anything of the sort, just... looked.

As Stella spoke, Ike's expression became crestfallen. He recalled what his mother had once told him; "If you question reality, you will find the truth. If you don't want to hear the truth, don't question reality."

But, still, there was no reason to hurt her feelings.

"Stella," he said, then paused. He thought about what he would actually do if she were to malfunction.
"Well," he started again, "if you die, well, you'd be dead. You'd have no good reason to stay in one piece. And if you go crazy and try and kill me...well..." He trailed off. What could he say? This was not like his laptop, or his desktop, or his printer, or his scanner, or any of the other robots he had built. They were his possessions...sometimes even extensions of his own being. But Stella...she was something else; something separate.

"Humans are created for a similar reason as you were. A man and a woman---because it takes one of each---decide they want a child, and then they make one. That's sort of what I did. And sometimes when a couple wants to have a baby, they try several times before they succeed. Sometimes their child dies before he can grow up and become somebody. That's just happened so much to me that I kind of got desensitized to it. I suppose I was a bit stupid to talk about you that way."

"And it's not like creating you was a walk in the park," he added. "I've been working on you for, what, six years? And I've only now come anything close to success. OK, no, that's not entirely fair...I've had models that worked almost as well as you, but they all malfunctioned. My hopes are high, but I won't pretend that you're perfect. You were created by me, after all, and I'm certainly not perfect."

What to say? What could Ike say to Stella to make her realize her importance. Well, perhaps the direct approach...
"You are very important," he said. "To me, at least. Emotionally, if nothing else. Although, at this point, that's only because you are very humanlike, meaning that you are a success. Hopefully, as I get to know you better, you'll be important in other ways. A friend, a companion. Whatever. Or, perhaps, we won't get along, and I could let you---OK, no, I couldn't let you just go off on your own...or could I? It depends on how you turn out...I don't know. I don't exactly know what's going on in your head, because I've never tested it. This is the first time you've been on after I ran Snake on you."

[[It's hard RPing as such an awkward guy...he's not very polite, but that's not because I fail as a writer, it's because he fails as a talker.]]

"If you question reality, you will find the truth. If you don't want to hear the truth, don't question reality."

Of course, cliches and such sayings were a bit harder for the robot to decipher. This one, however, was easily understood because it meant exactly what was said. She saw what he had misinterpereted her reaction as, but- she had wanted to know the truth and she had gotten it. Just because she was not particularly satisfied with said truth did not mean that she regretted asking. However, though that did not mean she should regret 'questioning reality', she sort of did...

"Stella," came more words from Ike's mouth, but then he paused. He seemed to be figuring out what to say. Why did he find it so hard to talk? "Well, if you die, well, you'd be dead. You'd have no good reason to stay in one piece. And if you go crazy and try and kill me...well..."

Blunt yes, but the truth. His words were much like she would have said had she been in a similar situation. Her face took on no expression. This was reality; this was the truth. Ike was making sense, talking logic - a language she was absolutely fluent in. He was perfectly right, and since she had no purpose she considered true anyways, she felt no objection to it.

"Humans are created for a similar reason as you were." That was an interesting prospect. She wondered how the humans dealt with having no purpose in existence. "A man and a woman - because it takes one of each - decide they want a child, and then they make one." Did he forget that he had programmed such trivial process into her mind? That she already knew of this? Why did he attempt to educate her in an area she had already covered? "That's sort of what I did. And sometimes when a couple wants to have a baby, they try several times before they succeed. Sometimes their child dies before he can grow up and become somebody. That's just happened so much to me that I kind of got desensitized to it. I suppose I was a bit stupid to talk about you that way."

Why? Why would it be so wrong to bluntly state the truth, reality?

"And it's not like creating you was a walk in the park," he added. "I've been working on you for, what, six years? And I've only now come anything close to success. OK, no, that's not entirely fair...I've had models that worked almost as well as you, but they all malfunctioned. My hopes are high, but I won't pretend that you're perfect. You were created by me, after all, and I'm certainly not perfect."

An interesting thought. Imperfections in the creation of an imperfection. Almost ironic, but as she discovered that the Christian religion stated, 'God' was a creator - making Ike 'God'. And apparently, according to her databanks, 'God' made humanity in his own image. But, in the Christian religion 'God' was perfect, and yet humans, as Ike had just stated about himself, were imperfect. Was Ike as a 'God' more accurate in that respect - that his creations were in his own image?

Then she wondered why she was dwelling on such unnecessary thoughts.

"You are very important," he said. "To me, at least. Emotionally, if nothing else. Although, at this point, that's only because you are very humanlike, meaning that you are a success. Hopefully, as I get to know you better, you'll be important in other ways. A friend, a companion. Whatever. Or, perhaps, we won't get along, and I could let you - okay, no, I couldn't let you just go off on your own...or could I? It depends on how you turn out...I don't know. I don't exactly know what's going on in your head, because I've never tested it. This is the first time you've been on after I ran Snake on you."

This managed to confuse Stella more. Ike had just stated that she was important to him - and then contradicted himself by saying she was important emotionally. Emotions were unnecessary, therefore if something was important to emotion it made no difference anyways. And then he stated that she could be important - if in other ways, besides emotionally, which meant that she would become important because Stella didn't view emotionally vital as truly vital - after he had just stated that she was important. And then there was the bit about 'Snake.' The definition of the animal didn't seem to apply to what he was talking about.

Not wanting to invoke another relatively lengthy lecture, she didn't point his contradicting himself about importance out to him but rather deigned to discover it on her own as she gave herself a purpose, gave herself an importance - for she existed and existence without a purpose was not truly existence; therefore, in her mind purpose was vital. Her purpose would be what she was doing and had been doing for the entirety of her short life: studying. Namely humans, since she felt that she would soon run out of objects to analyze and that the mortals were more difficult to understand. There, silently and without the knowledge of Ike, she had subconsciously comforted herself - by creating her own purpose.

However, she still had a question to be answered. "Snake?" she asked, puzzled, eyebrows furrowing in one of the few and only motions she had exacted in the past hour.

((Feel free to bring in the friends after Ike answers Stella's question.))

Ike put his hand over his mouth as he waited for Stella's reaction. He wasn't sure of the extent to which his coding of emotions had succeeded, but he was sure Stella would figure them out as she went along. The real trick was that robots needed a genuine motivation to do things, a genuine goal, and humans didn't really have that. Their only nature-given "purpose" was to make more humans, but they made other purposes for themselves, and Ike wasn't sure if Stella would do that. Even so, he had given her what he hoped was curiosity, and that should keep her occupied for quite some time.

She asked about the Snake.
"Oh, I called the program the Serpent, because of the story in Genesis? Where Adam and Eve, the first humans, are living in paradise, then the snake tells them to eat the fruit from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil," he pronounced the words as if they were capitalized, "and they...well, they were kicked out of paradise, for one thing, and they also gained the knowledge of good and evil. Or, really, the knowledge of evil, and how it differs from good. I think...I'm no theologist, and I've never actually read Genesis, so I don't know."

The Phantom of the Opera theme music rang through the room.
"Oh, that's Aub," Ike said, standing. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and answered it. "Hello...oh, yes, in fact---yes, she's here right now. I'll put you on speaker." He pressed a button and placed the phone on the table.
"I'm on speaker?" a woman's voice said. "Who's there?"
"Me and the robot," Ike said. "Her name's Stella."
"Stella? I thought you wanted to call her Michelle?"
"Well, I didn't really like 'Michelle' all that much, and I couldn't think of anything better. I asked her to name herself."
"She knew names?"
"I don't know...I had expected her to ask about it, but she seemed to know what I meant. She knows more than I expected, but I suppose that would be useful for teaching her. And I wasn't expecting her to be exactly what I expected."
"No one expects the Spanish Inquisition!"
"You know, I knew you'd say that. Anyway, when are you coming? And is Novvy coming with you?"
"Novvy, Sang's got work, and Rom. Although he's more into Liquid War than robots..."
"Time?"
"Oh, yes, we're coming a little earlier. We should be there in about..."
"Call ended" flashed on the screen of the phone as the door opened.
"No minutes."
Ike turned to the door, where the voice had come from. A woman stood there, with dark red hair and pale skin. She was wearing loose jeans and a shirt identical to the one Stella currently sported.
"Ikie!" she squealed, running over to him and embracing him. The two started kissing.

There was a clomp of boots on the stairs, signaling the arrival of a second party, a tall, pale man with bushy black hair. He removed his gray trench coat and tossed it onto a wooden chair. Then he spoke, with a thick Russian accent:
"Will you two give it a rest?"
"I don't know what your problem is," the woman replied, "if you hadn't seen Sang in a few weeks---"
"And," Ike interjected, "Sang's cuter than Aubrey anyway."
The woman folded her arms, then rolled her eyes at Ike's grin. The pair of them giggled and started kissing again.
"Hey," the Russian said, "is that her?" He looked at Stella. "And is she wearing your clothes?"
"Hey, now," Ike said between kisses, "It's not like I keep girls' clothing just hanging around in case I make a female robot."
"It's not like it came as a huge surprise---"
"I don't think things through, OK?"
"I lost the game."
"Argh!" a voice from the corner of the room said, "I lost the game!" A man who had entered the room unnoticed scowled at the Russian. He was even taller, and rather good-looking. He was the tannest one on the room, his eyes were slightly slanted, and he had a wide mouth.

He walked to Stella and stood between the sofa and the table, facing her. He waved a hand in front of her face.

[[They're Aubrey Kennedy, Sergei Novikov, Snag-mi Sung, and Romolus Lowell. Just so I don't forget what I've named them... ^^']]

((Wow. Lotsa dialogue. Gonna just gloss over repeating it all in italics in my post lol.))

Stella listened intently as he explained The_Serpent, which was named after some kind of religious fable... and from his words she thought she had a clue as to what it did, but not really. Conveniently, as soon as he could finish talking and before the robot could actually ask what the program did and not about its name, a tune rang out from somewhere coming from Ike.

She knew the definitions of songs and albums and such but no such musics had been programmed into her library, perhaps out of a lack of necessity or perhaps he had wanted that particular factor to be learnt through her own experience. In any case, Stella was a bit puzzled before she identified the small metallic cell phone in his hand, something whose meaning became quite clear to her even without the instant analytical process her mind went through.

For a moment he talked privately with someone. Stella deducted that although it was about her, it did not really pertain to her - however in case it would she listened even as Ike switched to speaker phone and the woman's voice came on. She said nothing as Ike introduced 'him and the robot'.

And listened to the discussion about her. Becoming a little frustrated, she resisted the urge to tell them that she was right there and could hear every word they said. From what she could deduct, three people were coming over soon. Probably the people Ike had told her about.

And soon after, the front door opened and an attractive redhead in the same Star Trek t-shirt Stella wore bounded into the room. From her voice, despite its high, squealy quality as she wxclaimed over Ike, she assumed that this was the one who had been on the phone. The robot raised a delicate eyebrow as Ike went over and the two humans in the house for the moment fell to kissing uncontrollably. She didn't quite get the whole concept of this thing called love (epecially the public display of affection, though it wasn't quite public since they were in a private home). Love, it seemed to her, as with other emotions, was unnecessary, was it not?

Before she knew it another man, this one tall and pale with thick eyebrows and arriving in a trenchcoat, broke the makeout-spree with his accent. And again they were talking about her. And again Stella became a bit annoyed because she was right here and could here everything they said.

It seemed that these humans came in single-file, because then yet another lone figure made his existence known. He was tall, attractive, and tan, with slanted brown eyes and a wide mouth.

Expecting him to, despite his frustrated cries from before, join his comrades by the door and launch into more conversation about her, Stella was quite surprised when instead the tallest man with the scowl on his face made his way quickly towards her, looking as if he would like to punch someone.

He stood right in front of her in the narrow space between her spot on the old couch and the coffee table, waving a tan hand in her face.

Without an expression present on her mainly-apathetic face, Stella reached up and caught the man's forearm in an almost vice-like grip.

"That's very... distracting," she said quietly, staring unnervingly up at the man.

The tall man's eyes widened.
"Whoa," he said, his voice low, almost a murmur. "You're awfully strong."
"Huh?" Ike said, leaning back, his hands around the red-haired girl's waist. "Oh, yes. Self defense, you know. After the first one got nicked, I figured Stella here ought to be able to put up a substantial fight."
"That's a little dangerous," the redhead said. "Didn't the last one try to knock your block off?"
"Well, yes. But I've fixed that."
All except the Russian (who seemed to be playing a game on a small hand-held device) looked from Ike to Stella for a moment, then Ike spoke again:
"Right, introductions. Stella, this is my girlfriend, Aubrey. This," he pointed to the tall man, "Is Romulus, and that," he pointed at the Russian, "is Serjey Novikov, we call him Novvy."
"It's Sergei."
"Whatever. That's why we call him Novvy. Guys, this is Stella."
"Why," the red haired woman said, "Is she wearing your clothes?"
Ike heaved a sigh. "Unlike some people," he eyed the tall man, "I do not have random women's clothing lying around my house." The tall man made a "who, me?" expression. Ike ignored him.
"Well," the woman continued, speaking now to Stella "I'll have to take you shopping."

She watched as the man's eyes widened.

"Whoa. You're awfully strong," he said quietly. Unimpressed by his awe, Stella simply blinked once, an unnecessary gesture really but a habit she had already picked up from those around her. Then she released his hand, bringing her own rubber-covered apendage back to her lap.

Her eyes flicked around the room as each person spoke.

"Huh?" said her creator, his hands around the lone woman's waist in a comfortable, familiar gesture. "Oh, yes. Self defense, you know. After the first one got nicked, I figured Stella here ought to be able to put up a substantial fight."

Spoke the woman: "That's a little dangerous. Didn't the last one try to knock your block off?"

"Well, yes. But I've fixed that."

Stella remained impassive as eyes turned on her and then back to Ike, who spoke once again.

"Right, introductions. Stella, this is my girlfriend, Aubrey." Stella met eyes with each person in turn as he pointed them out, storing the information she would apparently need to call upon quite often. "This is Romulus, is Serjey Novikov, we call him Novvy."
"It's Sergei."
"Whatever. That's why we call him Novvy. Guys, this is Stella."[/i]

The robot in question gave no sign of greeting whatsoever. Apparently the look she had given each person in turn had been sufficient in her eyes. Greetings as such were only trivial formalities.

Then the woman spoke again, only to be answered by her creator. "Why is she wearing your clothes?"

"Unlike some people, I do not have random women's clothing lying around my house."

Stella noticed that as he said this, his eyes turned rather unsubtly to the tall man - Romulus - who feigned an innocent expression. She doubted he was truly innocent of the "crime" he had been implied if not accused of commiting, but it was not her place to judge or even truly care.

The robot's blue eyes turned back to Aubrey. "Well, I'll have to take you shopping."

Shopping. Once again, at the new word a myriad of definitions and pictures exploded before her eyes, this category being much broader than the rest. For a moment the robot was overwhelmed and paused to sort herself out before deciding which use of the word 'shopping' the redhead meant. By the context of the conversation before it was apparent that the human woman had her mind set on buying clothing for Stella.

Once again the robot was reminding herself that these things called 'clothes' were necessary cultural items and that without them she would not be able to fulfill her self-given purpose properly. However, there was another thing she failed to understand.

This time directing her puzzled expression and query at Aubrey, Stella asked: "Aren't the clothes I wear now sufficient enough?"

It was true that what Aubrey wore seemed to be in a different style than what the robot wore now; perhaps the redhead represented most of the female population. Therefore she might still stand out, however, she was reluctant to have to put up with more triviality like 'shopping.'

"Well..." Ike began, somewhat awkwardly, "You'll need a bra."
The redhead snorted. "Well that's kind of your fault, is it not?"
"Her batteries are in there! They're freaking huge, and I needed a place to put them that didn't screw with her internal stabilizer and her lung. So you'll need to wear a bra to keep your batteries from...well...wobbling around. They could get broken or disconnected. Plus you have internal pain sensors, for the same reason humans do, to alert you to a malfunction or something. If something hurts, there's something going on that shouldn't necessarily happen, and I'd like you to alert me of it. Although you should have "ow" instincts built in..."
"Shut up, Ike," the woman said, cutting him off.
"OCD..." the Russian said, teasingly. Ike rolled his eyes.

"Why do you think you don't care more about your outward appearance, though?" Ike continued to Stella.
"Didn't you program her to be like you?" the woman said, giving Ike a critical look.
"And isn't she still a baby?" the tall man interjected.
"Yeah, yeah...I suppose. And no, I didn't program her to be exactly like me, otherwise she'd be gay." This comment sparked a lot of sarcasm.
"Can't have gay robots, can we?"
"Oh, the horror."
"And she'd be lesbian, anyway."
"Does she even count as female?"
"Did you give her girl parts?"
"Erm..."
The woman sighed, and tried to keep a straight face. "You won't cheat on me, will you?"
Ike was now blushing slightly. He scowled at the woman.
"No," he said shortly. "Anyway, I made it so that, well, puberty, if you'd call it that, will kick in after a few days. Just so she can get her land legs."

Ike began to answer her question, invoking his customary awkwardness. Had she known the term, Stella culd have said he had a classic case of foot-in-the-mouth syndrome, but she didn't, so she couldn't.

"Well... You'll need a bra."

Once again, in a practice that was becoming familiar, her mind brought up the definition, characteristics and uses of a bra, to which the robot raised an eyebrow at Ike. Lacking a better comparison, she looked blatantly from her own chest to Aubrey's and observed that there was a visible difference and that, like he said, to blend into the cultural world of humanity she would be needing a 'bra'.

Apparently not noticing, the redhead snorted a reply. "Well that's kind of your fault, is it not?"

"Her batteries are in there! They're freaking huge, and I needed a place to put them that didn't screw with her internal stabilizer and her lung." After answering the question of his girlfriend, Ike turned to talk to Stella herself. "So you'll need to wear a bra to keep your batteries from...well...wobbling around. They could get broken or disconnected. Plus you have internal pain sensors, for the same reason humans do, to alert you to a malfunction or something. If something hurts, there's something going on that shouldn't necessarily happen, and I'd like you to alert me of it. Although you should have 'ow' instincts built in..."

The robot affirmed with a simple grunt in agreement as more evidence was provided for her need to wear anything different from what she was currently clothed in.

And then for a reason Stella failed to comprehend and so silently arched an eyebrow, the sole woman in the room cut him off: Shut up, Ike."

Teasingly from the Russian, 'Novvy': "OCD..."

Having not yet learned to pick up implications from such subtle words, without their meaning being bluntly explained, Stella was left a bit puzzled as to what was so amusing within the conversation. However, she kept quiet.

Ike once again spoke to the robot. "Why do you think you don't care more about your outward appearance, though?"

Before Stella could come up with an answer, the woman interjected: "Didn't you program her to be like you?", the implications of which were, for a change, not lost on the robot whom could deduce that she was saying that her creator did not care about his appearance, which she was skeptical of since if he truly didn't care, he probably would not bother with clothing.

"And isn't she still a baby?" Stella was tempted to snort at this, like the redheaded woman seemed to be doing so often, since she was by all means and purposes no baby, but resisted the urge.

"Yeah, yeah...I suppose. And no, I didn't program her to be exactly like me, otherwise she'd be gay." This comment sparked much sarcasm, the meaning of which Stella soon discerned after several moments of confusion.
"Can't have gay robots, can we?"
"Oh, the horror."
"And she'd be lesbian, anyway."
"Does she even count as female?"
"Did you give her girl parts?"
"Erm..."
"You won't cheat on me, will you?"
[/i]Stella noticed pink creeping up Ike's cheeks.
"No. Anyway, I made it so that, well, puberty, if you'd call it that, will kick in after a few days. Just so she can get her land legs."

For the millionth time that day, Stella again practiced her most familiar facial expression: a raised eyebrow. She briefly wondered what he meant by 'puberty' but guessed that patience would yield her the answer and again decided to keep silent.

After the conversation paused, the robot was able to interject her words with a customarily blank expression. "Hn. If this... 'shopping' must be done... I would prefer it to be done soon." Even now one could detect the improvement of her phonetics, as listening to the group of people chatter away had given her more of an idea.

The giddiness that encompassed Ike every time Stella did something had not worn off.
"Listen to that!" Ike said happily. "She can work out what to say and say it!"
"The last one could do that," the tall man remarked. "But his speech wasn't nearly as good."
"Sounded like a car ran over him," the Russian said, laughing.
"OK, OK, shut up."

"So we'll go now, then?" Ike said, looking around.
"I've got some work to do," the tall man said, "Mind if I stay here?"
"Nope. Just don't burn the house down."
Ike picked up his car keys. The Russian raised an eyebrow, putting his GameBoy-like device in his pocket. "You use keys?"
"When you've got a Porsche," the woman said, "You can start it however you like."

Ike led the other three who were coming up the stairs and out to his garage.
"Actually, Aub, we can't take the Porsche. It only seats two."
"You have a Porsche and another car?" the Russian asked, putting his trench coat.
"The Porsche was my dad's. He's not using it."
The red-haired woman stuck out her lower lip and wimpered as Ike walked past the shiny silver sports car to the old blue Honda. Ike sat in the driver's spot, the woman took the front seat, and the Russian climbed in the back.
"Don't worry," he said to Stella, "I don't bite."
"No, he'll take you out to dinner before he starts that," the woman said, laughing.
Ike groaned. "Aubrey..."

"Listen to that! She can work out what to say and say it!" from her creator, who seemed giddy beyond the robot's comprehension. All she had done was spoken a few competent words.
"The last one could do that, but his speech wasn't nearly as good." added the tall man - Romulus, apparently.
"Sounded like a car ran over him."
"OK, OK, shut up."

Stella was silent. There it was again. The robot knew that as an inorganic being, she was technically considered and by all means an object. However, she knew very well that she was different from the couch or the table or the window; she had intelligence, artificial as it may be, and the ability to comprehend everything that the humans near her said. Therefore she was not ecstatic that she was being talked about as if she was not present - as if she was the same type of object as the cushion she still sat on. However, she knew she should, as a robot, learn to expect such. From Stella's comparisons of herself to the other woman, who was so far the only real example of female she had seen with her own artificial eyes, she was similar enough so that if she could learn to observe and practice what seemed to be habits of humankind - like the inability to stay still, the supposed need to breathe even without talking, and other unconscious behaviors that they seemed to unknowingly exercise - then she could fit in and be considered a real organic being by those who did not know her origins.

And though she expected being treated at least partially like an object, she was honestly anticipating the day that she could walk outside and be considered for all means and purposes something that was not an object.

"So we'll go now, then?"
"I've got some work to do. Mind if I stay here?" asked Romulus, the tall, tan man.
"Nope. Just don't burn the house down."

Stella watched as Ike pulled out something with a metallic jingle as the pieces clanged together unceremoniously. After a quick look, the word, its definition and uses, examples and pictures popped up in her mind. Key(s). An outdated object used to lock or unlock doors, boxes, or anything that might close or open. Were common several years prior to now, but proved obsolete with the inventions of several new ways to keep valuables safe.

'Novvy' raised an eyebrow, putting his GameBoy-like device in his pocket. "You use keys?"
"When you've got a Porsche, you can start it however you like." retorted Aubrey.

Ike began to move towards a door, and as if on cue the woman and the Russian followed him. Sensing this was her prompt to follow as well, Stella vacated her seat on the worn sofa and began to follow the small group, herself included making them four. And she emerged with them into the garage.

"Actually, Aub, we can't take the Porsche. It only seats two." said Ike.
"You have a Porsche and another car?" Novvy asked, putting his trench coat.
"The Porsche was my dad's. He's not using it."

Childishly, the redheaded Aubrey pouted and let out a rather pitiful whimper as Ike led the small group past a shiny silver car, the object to which Stella again raised an eyebrow, pausing to study it before moving on. She quickly caught up with the human trio, her long strides easily overtaking their leisurely walks. An old blue Honda sat there, and Stella watched as her creator took the driver's seat, Aubrey the passenger side, and Novvy climbing in the back.

"Don't worry, I don't bite." reassured the Russian.
"No, he'll take you out to dinner before he starts that," the woman said, laughing.
Ike groaned. "Aubrey..."

Supressing a sigh at the useless antics, Stella remorselessly ducked her head into the open blue door and sat down on the comfortable seats, closing the door behind her and studying the interior of the vehicle. The experience she was getting now with these vehicles was easily absorbed and retained.

She heard clicking and looked to the source: seatbelts being buckled. Stella did so as well without comment, silent as always as she waited to begin her first trip outside of the domain of her 'creator'.

[[Man, this is giving me a bad case of writers' block. Is it cool if I just skip ahead to the mall?]]

((Oh. Sure. Yeah, go ahead and do that, it's easier that way... might wanna gloss over the mall completely, though. Kinda dull if you just have to describe going into a buncha stores and stuff... Feel free to go on ahead to the car ride home, if you like.))