datadiving | (no subject)

(no subject)

Draped across the bed, bored out of his mind. Not the kind of situation Gabriel ever imagined he'd be in, at any point in his life, ever, but he could add that to the pile of new experiences he supposed. Yeah sure not all of them could be absolute bangers, life wasn't always going to be interesting, that much he'd learned long before everything fell apart but it felt almost insulting to be in another world, another time, and still be fucking bored. An old saying he'd heard a soul pass on to him once before rattled through his brain: boring people are bored, and he scowled at the memory, petulantly kicking a pillow off the bed.

Maybe he could go call on Cassiel. They could spar, or hunt, or talk, or fuck, or anything else, he didn't know. Anything was better than laying here doing fuck all.

The conspicuous lack of the Machine was as ever, not a concern either. Where was it? Well, outside somewhere of course, doing whatever. At this point he'd grown quite comfortable with its presence and conversely, lack of. Whatever trouble it could get itself into was at this point no longer his concern. ... A pleasant enough idea to hold onto at least. It did nothing for the boredom, other than alleviate some of the annoyance swirling around his head thanks to it.

... He really had to find some way to fill his day before he started taking this growing, foul mood out on someone who didn't deserve it, he hates this.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Gabriel briefly rolls his head towards the door, locking eyes (eye?) with V1. The most it gets is a brief grunt of acknowledgment before he goes back to contemplating the ceiling. No jokes this time? Well he could be happy with that.

The angel waved dismissively. "I'm overwhelmed by the sheer amount of things I could be doing, actually." Not technically a lie. It's just that everything he could be doing was things he'd been doing every single goddamn day here. Shouldn't he be happy that things were so calm? That for the moment there was no crisis to deal with, no one in danger, nobody to save? Was it wrong to be upset that there wasn't even a little chaos going on?

The idea did come to mind that he could potentially badger V1 for a little entertainment, but he wasn't entirely sure his ego would be able to take whatever reply he could get for that one. Yes or no, win or lose, he'd probably end up being irritable by the end of it anyway.

"Picked the forest clean for today, I assume?"

V1 eyeballs him as only a robot with one eye total can, and decides that since he doesn't seem tired this must be another Weird Emotion that he's expressing right now.

Tap-tap-tap.

- .- -. -.- / ..-. ..- .-.. .-..

It's a strange thing to say, that it no longer needs to hunt for the day because it's...topped up. It conserves fuel by simply being in a place where it's not constantly fighting for its life, and that means it's able to fill its reserve tanks and not constantly be on the verge of life-threatening deficiency.

As a consequence, it has more energy to devote to, well...just about anything else, including the resource-heavy task of Thinking A Lot. It's not as if it wasn't intelligent, but it rarely had the luxury of being able to utilize that intelligence in ways that weren't directly dedicated to its survival.

As a result, it's been contemplating all sorts of things it's seen, especially lately.

--.- ..- . ... - .. --- -.

Whether it wants to ask a question or is simply declaring the existence of one in its brain at the moment is unclear. It's flopped on the bed simply for the novelty of being able to lie down in one place and not have to worry about getting up again in a hurry, so it provides no context clues as to the nature of what it's trying to communicate.

"That sounds like a novelty." ... What a sad thought, when he took even a second to ponder it. How long had it been hungry for... Not a question he'd level at it, he could infer the answer really. Perhaps that was why it seemed so much more... calm didn't seem the correct word. Centered? Inquisitive?

The tapping drew him out of his musing, and he rolled his head towards it. Well, answering questions was better than sitting here glaring at the ceiling.

"What?" No need to get fancy about it, he interpreted the word as a request. Gabriel's head cocked slightly though to look over and see it flopped on the bed. What a strange sight, he was so used to seeing it standing, or in a constant flurry of motion, never once holding still for more than a second. Laying on the bed like it was relaxing?

Weird.

It lazily taps out a confirmation in a single letter - Y. Yes, it is a novelty.

Generally, it's reveling in the unique experience. It doesn't know what comfort is, exactly, but being on something soft and not having to constantly monitor its own systems to know exactly how much it would need to wring out to make it through the next handful of hours is surely a decent definition.

This whole situation is weird, but as it's come to learn, weird doesn't mean it's bad. It doesn't have an ideal situation, but its basic survival needs are fulfilled, so it could always be worse.

It considers Gabriel's mood, and then it considers its question. Then it sort of internally shrugs and taps it out. The worst it can do is make Gabriel annoyed at it.

.. ... / .. -. - .. -- .- -.-. -.-- / --. --- --- -..

A more accurate question might have been 'is intimacy interesting'. Being touchy-feely in a way that usually looks strange and mildly amusing. Surely there's some benefit, or people wouldn't do it so often.

Edited 2025-06-21 11:18 (UTC)

It was a reply that went without comment. It didn't need one, though considering how the angel scowled, something about that response didn't make him terribly happy. It was blatantly obvious, and had been for some time, that the Machine was an intelligent being. At the very least on par with any mortal, if not above that. The idea of a mortal being trapped in a constant state of starvation would have disturbed him, and to his chagrin he found the very same feeling now applied to V1.

But then... it had been that way for quite some time now too.

The question prompted him to pick his head up, peering at V1 quizzically. Why do you care?

"What prompted this question?" But, also: "Yes, of course it is. People wouldn't bother with it otherwise." He wouldn't bother with it otherwise. "I wouldn't have imagined it would be a subject that interests you, Machine."

V1 rolls over with a whirrrr of machinery, looking at Gabriel upside down, still sprawled lazily on the bed. It's half hanging off it now, one wing partially deployed, but it doesn't seem to be uncomfortable with this position at all.

The tapping comes slower this time, as if it's choosing its words more carefully.

-.-. ..- .-. .. --- ..- ...

It's simply inquisitive about something it's never experienced or felt the need to do, which might make its next declaration somewhat surprising.

.-- .- -. - / - --- / - .-. -.--

Observation hadn't gotten it anywhere, thinking about it hadn't gotten it anywhere. Clearly the next step is to put it into practice.

What a strange situation this was turning into. Gabriel half propped up on the bed, V1 lazily flopped across its, asking questions about sex. There was a philosophical question in here somewhere. Or a joke. Perhaps these were actually interchangeable now that he thought about it.

"Is that even something you can do?" No that didn't strike him as an inappropriate question, what better time to ask someone if they can even fuck, when they were asking to fuck to begin with???? When else were you supposed to ask this kind of question? He groaned a little in mild exertion as he pushed himself up off the bed to actually sit up and regard V1 properly.

"You do realize it's a collaborative effort. It's supposed to be good for everyone." And not just the person you were with, yes he would point out the potential fact that the Machine might not be able to enjoy it properly. That did in fact happen to be the main hangup here, it can't just go one way.

V1 considers this question, then shrugs. It won't know if it doesn't try, but it's true that it wasn't built to experience sexual pleasure.

There were certainly organic parts in its system, but that didn't mean it translated to an actual carnal impulse. That was simply not how it worked, even if 'pleasures of the flesh' was an often-used metaphor for intimate desire.

But then again, it's never had the chance to figure out if it can. Why not try? It's not as if there's anything to lose in this interaction - it's not a fight, and it's replete with fuel.

..-. .. -. -.. / --- ..- -

It's supposed to be good for everyone. V1 finally heaves itself back onto the bed so it can sit up properly. Weird that Gabriel would be so invested in that, of all things, but it guesses that Gabriel wants to be Fair or whatever. It pauses and considers its options, and then turns its back on him, wings lowering into their folded state.

There's a little trepidation in its movements as it runs its fingers across its own shoulder, looking for switches it's never had any reason to use. There's the hiss of hydraulics as it finds what it's seeking, its backplates sliding apart to reveal neat arrangements of blood-slick cabling, the exposed bone and muscle and wiring of its spine. The lights within blink steadily.

It's a frail thing, for all its ingenuity and combat experience. If there was anything it truly felt any kind of embarrassment about, it might be displaying such a vulnerability for something so trivial, especially to a target that had already tried to kill it twice before. Opening its chestplate was far less of a damage risk, but that exposed the core...V1 was made for efficiency, not intimacy.

But Gabriel had asked. It's doing its best to answer.

Once again, Gabriel was forced to acknowledge the fact that curiosity was an indication of actual intelligence. Why bother? Because it just wanted to know. There was, and didn't need to be, any greater reason than that. It was still a concept he struggled with, but V1 clearly had no issue with the idea at all.

Maybe he should start taking some direction from that.

If he'd known precisely what was going through the Machine's mind, he would have (fussily) explained himself. It was what made it good! The point of it being between two people was that both enjoyed it, if he just wanted to jack off he'd do that. The idea seemed even more necessary with the fact that V1 was a machine, oddly enough. The thought of just allowing it to pleasure him without any reciprocation in return, all for the sake of satisfying a bit of curiosity, just didn't sit well with him for a multitude of reasons. Not in the least because well... the question was 'is intimacy good'. Couldn't really answer that unless it was demonstrated in its entirety, now could he?

Gabriel couldn't help showing open fascination as V1 located those switches (for maintenance purposes he would imagine, why else would those need to be there), leaning forward to get a good look at the confusing collage of machinery and organic tissue. He'd attacked the Machine hundreds of times, he'd seen it bleed, he knew in part how it functioned but never to any grand extent.

The details within were nothing short of compelling.

"Do you know what feels good? When it's touched, I mean." He supposed that could be part of the 'find out' part of this experiment, moving to haul himself off the bed and approach the line he'd dragged in the floor upon their first meeting here. A gap had long ago been worn in the line, and he stood in front of it as if it were an open door.

It's never really done maintenance on its interior. It simply wasn't needed most of the time, as the limited repair that was powered by the blood drained through its exterior plating took care of most damage. And V1, after all, had been made by human hands, a prototype that presumably had a team to work on it at some point - so the access points were made for humans, too.

(It's a point long past. If those humans had names or faces or voices, it's long forgotten, the memory cast aside in favor of more storage for other things. Efficiency. A war machine that forgot its creators, the ones who had built it to go to war in the first place...)

It swivels its head to look over its shoulder. Oh, right, the line. It gets up and walks over to the middle of the room, then plops itself right down in front of Gabriel, presenting its open back for his inspection.

It shakes its head at Gabriel's question, tapping out a response with its finger on the stone floor.

-. --- / .-. . .- ... --- -.

It wouldn't pleasure itself, even if it knew how. It was busy, after all. There were so many things to do that even if it had known how to - had been, for some reason, taught to do it or discovered it otherwise - it was too focused on its own gnawing hunger, its own survival.

It's an intimacy, a vulnerability, that it's allowing Gabriel. That, in itself, is a strange declaration of trust, permission and invitation: touch me, and see.

Which, in an abstract way, is sort of also what sex is about?

Yeah, the line. The line that held little meaning or purpose at this point, but that Gabriel still insisted on respecting. It definitely wasn't there for V1's sake that was for sure, and the point at which the angel now stood was the same point he'd crossed over a thousand times before now. He's respected that line, damnit, and he will continue to respect that line. It's important!!!

The explanation it gave made sense, though it definitely didn't help, now did it? "You expect me to go digging around in there without any idea of what's good for you?" That tone didn't just sound chastising, it was. "What if I grab something important?" Well... it'd be obvious, he'd imagine, but that was neither here nor there; this was a lot of trust the Machine was showing him.

It was as nerve wracking as it was... touching? The feeling that swirled about in his head as he knelt behind it was near to beyond proper verbiage. Tender, perhaps fit it best. Oddly, uncomfortably tender, and it was with tenderness that he reached out to delicately run his fingers along the exposed wires and organic material that comprised V1 beneath its thin armor.

"Just... let me know what feels good. I'm going to need direction, Machine." Indeed another thing that was incredibly important in matters like this, he'd found, "Part of the enjoyment involves proper communication, or else you're just grabbing things and getting nowhere." Or potentially hurting someone but he doesn't want to think about that right now he is being careful for a reason.

It swivels its head to stare at him blankly. If he does touch something important, V1 will let him know. That's obvious enough, right?

When Gabriel kneels to actually touch the wiring, V1 rotates its head back to its usual position, head actually drooping a little. Its eye shutters once or twice; its wings twitch gently.

There is no memory, but there's something soothing about it all the same.

The first thing to note is unsurprising, perhaps; V1 runs warm, all that blood and organic material making it not much cooler than a human might be. The thin pulse of its organic parts isn't as strong as a human heartbeat, but subtle tremors shiver delicately through its wiring regardless.

The touch of Gabriel's fingers is pleasantly strange, despite the inherent danger. Risk assessment modules whine their messages in V1's brain and are promptly ignored with a flick of a command. Compared to what it was doing before this, this isn't risky at all.

Touching the wiring, at least initially, gets little response. When Gabriel's fingers brush against its spine, there's the sound of some internal cooling fan whirring up, the motion reverberating through V1's body as it shivers, like it's being woken up from a half-dreaming state.

That's nice. Maybe it's all the nerves that, by necessity, must be run through the spine to provide proper instruction to everything else. It doesn't know. But it translates to something close enough to pleasure that V1 is quite happy to reach behind it and gently tap Gabriel's hand. Do that again.

It is, it is obvious, he figured that out two seconds after he said it, just shut up, there's a lot going on right now, okay? At least mentally, anyway. The look he got received a scowl back. "I get it. It was a stupid question, alright?"

Actually getting involved with the innards of the Machine was fascinating though, he wouldn't lie about that. Where there was one hand, there was now two, Gabriel going from merely crouched there to fully on his knees as he carefully works his fingers over V1's exposed internals. Inspecting what looked like ports and couplings, examining how muscle seemed to seamlessly integrate with steel and electronics. It was truly a marvel, a testament to the ingenuity of man. A strange, violent work of art, in a way, and he found himself captivated by what he saw and felt within.

Gabriel caught the reaction before V1 directed him, and he paused briefly to look towards it for confirmation. The tap upon his hand was all he needed, there it was then. Delicately, he ran his fingers over the spine, wondering at the sound of its cooling fans kicking on and the way that it shivered under his hand. Similarities met with incongruities, how fitting considering its biology.

"Would you like me to press harder?" He was being so careful, so precise, unable to shake the trace anxiety that pushing too far would end up damaging the thing. It wasn't like he'd ever encountered anything else like it before, sex with normal people was still kind of a novelty.

V1 twitches and shivers as Gabriel explores its internals with both hands, vents hissing as it offloads excess heat from stimulation. Having two hands inside it is interesting. Whether it's a too much interesting or a not enough interesting or a something else entirely interesting, it hasn't decided yet, but it's not dangerous or otherwise intolerable.

It's learning a lot. It doesn't want to stop, it knows that. Allowing itself to be vulnerable is so rare, it's strange, but it's not...bad? It's not bad.

Being more forceful doesn't sound like the best idea when combined with internals, but it would like to be touched more... It leans back a little, eye shuttering again, fans whirring as it enjoys that faint stimulation.

It looks, for a moment, like it's not going to answer the question, and then it nods. Yes. It wants to try.

As it leans back into his hands, Gabriel shifted forward, mere inches away from the back of its head. With both hands, he traced over the shape of its exposed spine, delicately finding where wires and tubes connected, lightly scraping the pad of his thumb over a bundle of wires that sat nestled closely to a collection of blood-filled tubes.

Strange, alien, but no less oddly intimate, the way it shivers under his hand containing some undeniable sense of eroticism to it. The angel hummed lowly, considering and curious, hesitating to watch V1 until at last he received permission.

"I'm going to do it slowly." So that it would have plenty of time to tell him if it was becoming uncomfortable. He returned to his exploration, each stroke across wires, tubes and steel done with a firmer touch. Pressing and sliding his fingers against the spine, tracing the spaces between each, palming over muscle and steel as he found himself inching closer.

Now almost pressed against the back of it, he found himself lost in this act, letting his hands drop lower down V1's back, wanting to explore the circuitry and frame by the base of their spine, where the hips connected. Why wouldn't he? After all, was it not a more sensitive zone for beings of flesh and blood? Perhaps it would be so for V1 as well, the angel even daring to move a hand and gently rest it against its shoulder.

"May I?" A question and a request all at once. Go lower, lean forward.

Being handled delicately is...It's strange. Flesh remembers in an odd way as cabling and wires do not, though of course it wasn't handled that often, but that tenderness doesn't feel especially familiar. Its creators were likely careful with it, of course, but it's not quite the same....It can't define the difference, even to itself. Maybe it's just because it's Gabriel....

(It has this thought and decides it absolutely can't tell him that. He's already annoying and smug enough.)

V1 had removed its own capability to vocalize a long time ago, but those connections and signals still exist. As Gabriel works his way down (through?) its internals, mechanisms sporadically whirr and hum and vibrate around his hands, a chiming and strangely harmonious song thrumming through its internal workings. Alien and odd, but almost pleasant to feel.

Its wings twitch periodically, almost fluttering the way Gabriel's own wings might, V1's shoulders and head dropping in what seems to be the equivalent of sinking into something comfortable, utterly relaxed and no longer even slightly cautious about Gabriel's warmth at its back.

This is nice. It thinks it gets it now. It's not the same as the pleasure that flesh and blood creatures feel, it thinks, but it's still nice.

Gabriel asks it a question, and it takes a moment to process what he's asking for. It raises its hand to tap his hand again, and then carefully leans forward.

Edited 2025-06-22 04:56 (UTC)

The sounds are fascinating, and without thinking a smile has already begun to creep across Gabriel's face. They sounded pleased, and he didn't have to guess if that was the case considering the Machine's body language at present. He was doing this to it, he was coaxing these sounds from it. It was almost... cute, really. What an incredibly wild thought to have even cross his mind but there seemed no better word for it.

An adorable little murder monster. Its head dropped into what struck him as a relaxed position, and he settled in behind it comfortably, going as far as to rest his chin upon its shoulder. No longer did he specifically need to see everything, having memorized the shape and form of the body beneath his hands he was confident that he could continue without the eagle eye. No, he wanted closeness now as he worked.

Gabriel would only shift as it moved, splaying his legs to either side of them as his hand slipped down lower, down along the base of the spine, the top of the hips. Working in slow, steady circles along the network of muscles, tubes and wires, tenderly, carefully pulling at things that seemed snagged, kinked or caught up, smoothing his thumb over its spine and lumbar. "... What a curious creature you are." He couldn't help but talk out loud, it's Gabriel after all.

"I never knew how sensitive you were." Under the armor, of course. He'd hit the damn thing enough times to know that this was a special occasion. ... Hard not to tease though, sorry V1.

V1 resists the slight impulse to headbutt him for that comment about sensitivity, so Gabriel is spared an immediate physical consequence for his little joke.

The humming vibration of various components and the soft whirring of cooling fans begin to tick up slowly as Gabriel essentially performs maintenance. It has been a very long time since someone else's hands did this for it, albeit in a very different context....It doesn't recall whether it felt as pleasant then as it does now.

The words he's saying are strange, too. It's not something it'd ever have thought to hear from Gabriel, but many things are different since it came here. It's not bad, though. Not bad at all.

Gabriel's fingers run confidently down the base of its spine and it feels a spike of stimulation, causing it to vent another little burst of heat, several mechanisms humming and vibrating together. It's not entirely sure why that feels better than the rest of it (maybe an old injury that didn't repair and left something a little more exposed?) but it's not complaining, far from it.

Maintenance of this type is tedious and dangerous, something they couldn't have performed without someone else there to supervise - and where would it get that in Hell? If Gabriel finds it fascinating enough to do, it's not going to stop him at all, especially since it feels so good.

If maintenance was what felt good, then he'd be more than happy to do that. It was genuinely rather soothing, pleasantly mindless really, as the occasional fleck of debris was carefully pulled away, wires gently pushed and pulled back into position, the occasional knot in a muscle smoothed away under his thumb. Different from the usual intimacy, this was... Cozy.

Almost sweet. He perked at the sound of the vents peaking, moving to run his fingers over that spot once again in curiosity. Would it be fair to call it excitement too? Of a sort, certainly, that little sound had been very promising.

"Shall we try that one again?" Gabriel certainly wanted to, pressing down just a little more as his fingers glided over the base of its spine once more.

As Gabriel runs his fingers over that spot, he'll feel that it's not as smooth and regular as the rest of the spinal cord had been; some half-healed chipping, some stray injury or projectile sustained over the course of its life that never quite repaired correctly has left the surface ragged and a little thinner.

It's an old injury, most likely. A scar, a token of some other target's violent regard. Now it serves no other purpose than a reminder the machine can't even see - and also to make it make interesting noises, apparently.

Which it proceeds to. There's another spike of stimulation, another burst of vented excess heat to go with it, and it shifts against him, pressing its back against his hand with a slight shiver. It doesn't need words to convey its desire there.

What a fascinating quirk that was. The fact it was an old wound was clear, and that it would become an erogenous zone was very interesting. Gabriel did his best to get a good look at it from his position behind V1, surmising that the metal beneath his thumb was in fact noticeably thinner there than the surrounding steel.

The smile grows when it presses back against his hand, his expression one of triumph. "Ah, I see. Well then, in the interest of education..."

'Education', as if he wasn't clearly enjoying himself as well. It was a fact he'd have difficulty admitting wholly to; that he enjoyed this, the sounds it made, the movement of it beneath his hand, the way it pushed back against him, shivering from his touch. Gabriel pressed against the point, moving to curl forward and rest his chest against V1's back. In slow, steady circles he moved his thumb, listening intently for whatever sounds he might coax from it next.

Even in the pleasant haze of relaxation, it swats lazily at Gabriel, recognising that smug-adjacent tone in his voice. It's surprisingly easy to settle against him and let him do whatever he's doing currently - definitely not maintenance any more, but whatever, it's fine - cycling out heat through its vents as the angel keeps stimulating that point.

It squirms visibly at that repeated touching, fans whirring loudly at the spikes in physical stimulation. Its systems beep irritatingly about how it's an attack to a weakpoint and is compromising internal systems but it knows what it's doing it's not an attack.

The noises its mechanisms are making vibrate and pulse underneath and around Gabriel's fingers entangled within it, in time with the way he moves his thumb, the faint constant exhale of opening vents and whine of cooling fans a rising tempo. If V1 breathed, if it had a heart that could race...it's an echo of what that might have sounded like.

Gabriel only snorts as it swats at him, but takes the hint. For the moment, anyway. He thinks he's funny.

He's also very proud of himself, listening to it cycle its ventilation as it squirmed and vibrated under his touch. No matter how tender the situation, no matter how deeply he'd worked his fingers into it, that would never change or obscure the fact that this Machine could kill him, if it wanted to. It didn't have to let him do this, it didn't have to agree to this part of the 'lesson' so to speak. It had allowed him this close, willfully opened itself up in this intimate fashion to him and allowed for such brazen vulnerability.

Was it strange, to find it an honor? Was it odd, to feel pride in that? Maybe. ... It wasn't like he had to tell anyone that though.

But it would bleed through in his ministrations to V1, in the care that he gave, the other hand returning to the duty of maintenance even as he continued to stimulate that thinner panel, that old 'scar'. The sensation beneath his fingers and the sound that struck his ears easily mimicked the quickened pulse and breathing of a lover, it took no effort to see it as such, and Gabriel tucked himself closer behind it, exhaling softly, hotly.

"This. This is intimacy, Machine." Do you understand why it's so popular now?

In some ways, it makes it more difficult to kill someone when their hands are in your internals. If you don't care about damage, however, it makes it very easy, and harder for them to get away. It's a calculation V1 is making on a subconscious level, and consciously choosing to ignore; it's not as if they can turn off the parts that keep them alive, that would be stupid. But it can make its own choices about what's a dangerous situation or not.

(SUGGESTED COURSE OF ACTION: Knuckleblaster module to target head, fire. Wait for cooldown, fire. Repeat until threat is neutralized.)

It's aware that the stimulation it's feeling is the result of old damage. An error, a flaw that was never fully healed. There is no thrill in that, but there is a strange pleasure in someone finding it and choosing not to deepen it, to remind it that the flaw remains without reopening the wound. Something soothing where there would usually, inevitably, be pain.

Pain is such an ever-present part of its life; whether the panic characteristic of starving (and though it does not have a stomach, its organs will fail without blood to sustain them; it adds a visceral, organic edge to its need for fuel, for sustenance) or the more simple, straightforward pain of combat. Having little to no pain at all is a baffling experience.

It stretches in his arms, languidly rubbing that sensitive spot against his fingers as it works out the kinks in its spine, sending pleasant sparks through the organic components of its brain. Its systems are nearly singing, humming and vibrating around the angel's fingers as Gabriel continues to sort out cables and untangle knots in its musculature.

It places a hand on Gabriel's arm, not to guide him anywhere - the touch is surprisingly delicate, feather-light - but simply because it can.

Yes, it understands now. It's not exactly the same way as a human would feel it, or even an angel, probably, it knows nothing about the insides of angels apart from how their blood tastes - but it's marked intimacy as worth the vulnerability.

Gabriel wouldn't have expected anything different, really. It made sense, and he should be doing it himself. Just because he had the upper hand in this moment didn't make it any less dangerous.

As it stood, he had a few general backup plans floating around, every single one of them predicated on teleportation of course, how else would he be getting out of range fast enough like this? But it wasn't something he cared to linger on. Ruined the mood, obviously, and unlike V1, he could much more easily pick up any thoughts he didn't care of have and just... shove them away for a while.

"It's so strange to see you this at ease." It was a thought that he just allowed to slip out, such was the novelty of the moment. There was never a moment of relaxation in Hell, he could barely imagine there would have been time for it to stop for a second and just... exist where it was without some form of anxiety. Gabriel wagered that these circumstances might be even more novel to it, in a fashion, than it was for him to partake in it. He hesitated for a moment as V1 rested a hand upon him, and then once satisfied that it needed nothing more, he continued.

"I enjoy it." And then, after a moment: "It's part of what makes it- intimacy, so gratifying. To know that you can give someone this kind of pleasure, it's a... gift of sorts." And one he'd found he quite enjoyed giving, to be perfectly honest. He couldn't help but wonder though; anything else would eventually climax. Would that even be possible, for a machine? Or would it simply drift into some sort of sleep-state like this?

Gabriel found himself not particularly bothered by that possibility. Maybe he'd get a little cramped sitting on the floor, but it'd wake up eventually if that was the case. Besides, it certainly didn't sound like it was going to nod off any time soon.

He rested his cheek against it, listening to the sound of its internals whirr and hum, the angel's wings laying lax against his own back, crooked and lazily limp. Comfortable, this was... so comfortable, really.

"It's one that I hope you appreciate."