jermastrat: Helmless Headcanon! (11)
Gabriel ([personal profile] jermastrat) wrote in [community profile] datadiving2025-06-20 11:36 am

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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.
mechanicalmortality: (6)

[personal profile] mechanicalmortality 2025-06-21 05:34 pm (UTC)(link)
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?
mechanicalmortality: (4)

[personal profile] mechanicalmortality 2025-06-22 12:27 am (UTC)(link)
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.
mechanicalmortality: (9)

[personal profile] mechanicalmortality 2025-06-22 03:12 am (UTC)(link)
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.

mechanicalmortality: (11)

[personal profile] mechanicalmortality 2025-06-22 04:55 am (UTC)(link)
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)
mechanicalmortality: (6)

[personal profile] mechanicalmortality 2025-06-22 06:58 am (UTC)(link)
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.
mechanicalmortality: (4)

[personal profile] mechanicalmortality 2025-06-22 07:24 am (UTC)(link)
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.
mechanicalmortality: (6)

[personal profile] mechanicalmortality 2025-06-22 08:19 am (UTC)(link)
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.
mechanicalmortality: (11)

[personal profile] mechanicalmortality 2025-06-23 12:50 am (UTC)(link)
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.
mechanicalmortality: (4)

[personal profile] mechanicalmortality 2025-06-23 02:28 am (UTC)(link)
Gabriel had mentioned it before, that insistence on give and take. Cooperation, sharing, exchange. It supposes that this is fair enough, like trading effort for reward.

V1 doesn't really have the ability to climax. Possibly overstimulation would do it, but a bout of overstimulation strong enough to simulate climax would likely knock them into dizziness, and a disoriented war machine would not be particularly hospitable to what's technically an invasive procedure.

Also, and this is quite a surprise even to it, the amount of times it's actually wanted to shoot Gabriel in the past few months for things outside of combat can be counted on one hand. It does not...actually want this specific encounter to end with any sort of violence. Weird. It's feeling nice right now, lying there, getting some much-needed relaxation time in, and it doesn't want to actually stop doing that.

The words are mostly washing over it, but it does process them, even if it all seems to handle concepts it's never really had to deal with in its existence. Machines might even share blood, might grieve their blood-donors, might group together for safety or security, but V1 has always been alone. If other machines huddle with each other, it doesn't know anything about that; downtime in Hell was spent tucked in a corner of an elevator foyer, listening to the crackling music of the terminal, resting only because mechanical stress required it. Even a creature of steel couldn't keep running forever.

Intimacy is nice, though. And it does understand...returning favors, of a sort. Even though every favor it's returned has been a violent one, before this.

This part, receiving intimacy, is good. It's curious to know if the other part, giving intimacy, is the same. So after a long moment, it taps at Gabriel's arm.

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

He's been with people before, presumably. But 'do you want V1, robot who is really good at shooting you a lot with every gun, to try and Do Whatever Intimate Thing To You' is, well, a different question? It's a different question.
mechanicalmortality: (7)

[personal profile] mechanicalmortality 2025-06-23 04:42 am (UTC)(link)
If the world could be different...it's not something it's really given thought to. What mattered was the reality, the reality of here and now. It might not be fighting for survival any more, but it doesn't trust things to stay the same forever in any case.

Still, it's strange to look into someone's face and see the refracted light, to know and understand them in a way that doesn't require violence. There is commonality there, something shared, some strange frail thread that connects them...it doesn't know what it is.

(Below that, a kind of confusion. If others could entertain these thoughts, they hadn't spared much of a thought for V1. Should V1, then, spare that much time for them, they who had challenged it and found a challenge beyond their skill or tenacity to surpass? Would 'mercy' even do anything, or would it simply be a prolonging of extended injury, waiting for something else to pass by and kill them?

It's a new thought. It's a difficult thought. It's not something it knows how to communicate.

Gabriel is the only person it's ever felt the impulse to spare. It doesn't know why that is, either....)

It's such a heavy set of thoughts that it has to shake its head a little to clear it, as if that will do anything. Thinking is annoying and slows things down. Answering questions is much easier.

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

Gabriel had said all that stuff about reciprocation. V1 listened to all of it, apparently, like it listens to everything he says.

It just chooses to be selectively disobedient.
mechanicalmortality: (8)

[personal profile] mechanicalmortality 2025-06-24 04:18 am (UTC)(link)
V1 swivels its head to the side and just nods. If it could make a baffled expression, it would be doing that.

Of course it listens to what he's saying. Why would it not listen? How else was it going to pick out what would annoy him the most?

It waits patiently for him to make his decision, yes yes flesh isn't metal (obviously, they're not the same thing, it knows that) yes yes it has to listen to him (obviously, he knows his body better than it does, this is supposed to be reciprocal) blah blah blah

INTERNAL NOTE: RANKING FOR ACHIEVING OPTIMAL PERFORMANCE?

No, that's stupid. It ignores that.

It gets up from its sitting position, delicately stepping over the gap in the line, and proceeds to plop itself on Gabriel's bed, leaving him with plenty of room to sit. There's a hiss of hydraulics as it closes its back panels and idly traces around its chest plating, as if considering something. It looks at Gabriel expectantly, waiting.
mechanicalmortality: (9)

[personal profile] mechanicalmortality 2025-06-24 04:53 am (UTC)(link)
It tilts its head in a distinctly judgemental way - whose fault is the gap again? Not V1's, that's for certain - but it soon passes.

It waits patiently, almost politely, for Gabriel to finish talking before it puts its hands on him.

Rather than running its hands down his body, as might be expected, its hands cup his face, fingers stroking his skin. Its thumbs brush against the feathers of the wings on his face. It stares blatantly and quite without shame or any other kind of barrier to its clear curiosity, its touch almost exaggeratedly gentle.

It's still weird to see him without his helmet. It doesn't think it'll ever get used to that. It doesn't even know where all the hair goes, but it's a secondary priority to simply...looking at him.

It's such a novelty to be able to look upon the face of someone who had tried to kill it twice. Who it had tried to kill twice. And yet here both of them are, still somehow living.

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