datadiving | (no subject)

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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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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."

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.

No, it would be more than just a shame to ruin this with a fight, actually. Gabriel was enjoying this moment far too much to want it to degenerate into violence and name calling, actually.

They really did have such a peaceful existence here, comparatively speaking, didn't they? Not simply with the world around them, but with each other as well. It was a thought that stuck in the back of his mind every now and again, one that would peek into view sometimes when he found himself idly chatting with the Machine, or when he was simply... existing alongside it. It was certainly here now and louder than ever: what if? What if the circumstances at home had been different? What if things had been... better, somehow? It'd barely taken them long at all to adjust to each other's presence, it was almost alarming.

It was a thought that was pushed to the side. Dismal thing to ponder, when there was nothing else that could be done of it. He was here now, wasn't he?

Was Gabriel only rambling at it? Maybe. Perhaps these were all concepts that it couldn't grasp, and didn't much care about. But it felt good to say it regardless. It mattered to him.

He was shaken from his musing as it taps out a message on his arm. It's a question that, naturally, causes some hesitation.

"You would be... interested in that?" Why yes he had sort of assumed that this would be a bit of a one way road at this point, there'd be no denying a sense of foreboding there as well. It's a machine, it was one thing for Gabriel to play with steel and wires, flesh was a lot less durable.

... But then again, he'd had his hands buried in it for a while, and they both knew how easily Gabriel could have taken it apart. It had shown more than enough trust to him, hadn't it? And he had gone on for a not insignificant amount of time about reciprocation. He'd be a bit of a hypocrite otherwise, wouldn't he?

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.

"So you do listen to everything." If it sounded like there was a vague hint of annoyance in there... well there was. That's inescapable, you do hear him you just ignore him okay. But then again what could he possibly expect? V1 had proved its personhood to him multiple times over long before now, and what was more human than straight up deciding not to do as one was told when it suited them?

Prick.

But the matter of the offer still stood there, he'd not answered that yet, and the hesitation clearly conveyed at least one thing: it wasn't 'no'.

"I need not remind you," but he's doing it anyway, "That flesh and blood bodies are much more delicate than steel." It wasn't no. And he almost couldn't believe it wasn't no, but... well, it wasn't.

But saying a simple 'yes' was apparently just too fucking difficult for him. "You will put those aforementioned listening skills to work." Said even as he's starting to fuss with his belt, scooching back from the Machine.

"... On the bed." Because he's worth it.

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.

"What? You don't act like you listen to everything, what the hell am I supposed to infer from that?" Don't you look at him like that, it's reasonable!

Of course, Gabriel would reiterate things it already knew, it was Gabriel. Saying obvious shit for the sake of 'communication' came standard with sharing close quarters with him, this was normal.

Just like it was normal to see him puff up a little as V1 crossed over the line- not line... gap in the line. That he made... Whatever he was about to say went clearly nowhere, the breath he took just leaving him, reminiscent of the air rushing suddenly out of a balloon. Alright, no that's fair isn't it? Between the two of them, only one had ever really bothered to honor the existence of the line, and it wasn't the angel currently picking himself up off the floor.

With a vague air of grumpiness, Gabriel pulled the belt free, hooking his thumb into the waistline of his trousers (hated them, it was always a good time to take them off) as he reached with the other hand to begin undoing buttons on his shirt.

"You're lucky the gap's there." That's all he had to say about that, as he joined it on the bed, kicking off the trousers as he went. It was... awkward. Something he really couldn't help, everyone else he'd been with had been well... Flesh and blood, and also with a considerably smaller track record of shooting at him. Awkward was just sort of inevitable.

"There exists multiple areas that are more sensitive to touch, much like you. I'll allow you to explore for yourself a little," as it had allowed him, after all, "the lesson will be more impactful that way." Mind, he'd surely be directing the Machine before long, but at least he was willing to allow a little bit of free reign.

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.

Yeah shut up. He dropped it didn't he? ... He dropped it eventually.

Gabriel wasn't entirely sure what to expect when it reached out to touch him. There had been something of an assumption that it would have started with his body, yes. That was were most anyone else would have begun, but there he went making assumptions based off of what normal people did, and not off of what V1 would do. That one was on him.

So he jerked a little in surprise as it cupped his face, distinctly not pulling away but certainly surprised by it. Of course, there's not really much by way of erogenous zones on his face, and the staring communicated an intense, oddly innocent curiosity. Odd if only in the fact that he knew where this was going, but so many things the Machine did seemed to hold that same level of strange innocence to it. Not necessarily naive or stupid, no but... Everything was so new for it, wasn't it?

After all, what did it know, outside of destruction? ... Well, soon it would know how bodies worked, it could put that on the list.

The multitude of eyes stared back with the same intensity, though maybe with a little bit more embarrassment, if the faint pink glow creeping over the tips of his wings were of any indication.

"Yes, I'm sure it's still a novelty seeing me without the helm, isn't it?"

It knows very well how to wreak havoc on flesh and blood bodies, or at least the appropriate facsimiles of them. Husks and demons were not exactly mortals, but they were...enough. Enough to kill, enough to bleed, enough to be fuel. This whole business of not immediately acting on the best way to dismember a body into parts is uncharted territory, but it's nothing if not curious.

It's simply not something it has any real guidelines for. Touch without violence, resisting the urge to tear into a ready source of fuel within a living body... That in itself is...exciting? Bizarre? Interesting.

It would be so easy. The fingers of its auxiliary arms twitch as it contemplates the thought and then -- puts it aside.

It reaches out to touch that blush, holding the edge of one wing with a delicate pinch between thumb and forefinger, and then pats Gabriel fondly on the head before leaning back. It sweeps him with a calculating gaze, trying to decide where to put its hands next, and then puts one hand against his throat for a brief moment.

One thumb in the center, pressing briefly, feeling the pulse of a living heart, fresh blood surging below the surface. Then it moves its hand again, down the curve of Gabriel's neck and to his shoulder as if it hadn't paused at all.