“Hmm… Who were the four members of the Beatles?”
“Incorrect; there are nearly four-hundred thousand members of the Beetles, not four.”
“Okay, then.” Chell rolled her eyes. “Who were the four members of the B-E-A-T-L-E-S?”
“John, Paul, George, and Ringo. Are we going to continue to test my intellect because I have already established that I am the most intelligent.”
Chell decided to speak through the speaker system. “Is that so, Craig? Then can I ask you something? Why, pray tell, would I need a Fact Sphere when I could use the Internet?”
The optic’s expression and Craig’s expression matched each other then; a narrow-eyed glare.
“Ask me a question then, and I will answer it faster than your Google.”
Chell smirked. “Very well, then. What is the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow?”
“It depends on the size of course, and the breed. Male? Female? Canadian, African, Super African, Toulouse, Brown Chinese, Pilgrim, Sebastopol?” He replied, hands on his hips.
“Wow. Not only did you not answer the main question, but none of those, except African, are even varieties of swallow. The correct answer, by the way, is 11 meters per second. What kind of a Fact Sphere are you?”
“That is incorrect, and they are in fact, varieties of swallow,” the optic in his torso looked annoyed, “I am always right. Though I am not a sphere, as mentioned before I am a core. Go on, ask me another question.”
“Hmm… Who were the four members of the Beatles?”
“Incorrect; there are nearly four-hundred thousand members of the Beetles, not four.”
He intensified his massaging, letting it go to pumping, his other hand pushed you closer, his mouth locked around your mouth, so you cannot retrieve. He purred into your mouth, as his tounge explored your mouth, tastes every inch of it, curls around yours, then his attention go to your lips, nipping at the soft skin, licking over it, framing it, sucking lightly at your bottom lip. His caressing went to your chin, licking along the line, down to your neck, where he gently bit you. “I really like the way this goes…”, he murmured into your neck.
Craig’s fingers curl into the other Wheatley’s hair tightly, his kisses back gaining a little intensity with each. The electronic data still being fed through him from the cable was still in waves, and now paired with his own ‘internal euphoria’ building from the work of the other’s hand around his cock.
He mimicked the action of a gasp at the bite on his neck, his body jolting forwards against the other Wheatley’s, eyelids fluttering and keeping his fingers in the other’s hair, and not leaving any time soon. “I agree,” he responded simply, trying to open his eyes. “Which means that you should continue.”
(Source: afactualandroid)
Chell decided to speak through the speaker system. “Is that so, Craig? Then can I ask you something? Why, pray tell, would I need a Fact Sphere when I could use the Internet?”
The optic’s expression and Craig’s expression matched each other then; a narrow-eyed glare.
“Ask me a question then, and I will answer it faster than your Google.”
Chell smirked. “Very well, then. What is the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow?”
“It depends on the size of course, and the breed. Male? Female? Canadian, African, Super African, Toulouse, Brown Chinese, Pilgrim, Sebastopol?” He replied, hands on his hips.
“Wow. Not only did you not answer the main question, but none of those, except African, are even varieties of swallow. The correct answer, by the way, is 11 meters per second. What kind of a Fact Sphere are you?”
“That is incorrect, and they are in fact, varieties of swallow,” the optic in his torso looked annoyed, “I am always right. Though I am not a sphere, as mentioned before I am a core. Go on, ask me another question.”
He simled, massaging your crotch. “Ah, well you’re right…”, he chuckled, leaning again down to kiss your neck, wandering up in small pecks and swirls of his tounge, up to your mouth, hovering again over your lips. He looked into the changed eyes, grinning. “You have beautiful eyes, Craig.”, he murmured, quickly kissing the corner of his mouth. His own bloodred ones glowed a bit, looking calmly into yours, want and urge in them. “Hm…”, he mused, letting his hand glide into your pants. He chuckled as he found what he searched for, grabbing it gently in his hand, and started to massage it. Once again he dived into a kiss, letting his tounge glide between your lips, wanting to enter, the hand on your head gently pushing you into it.
“Of course I am,” Craig tilted his head back, his eyes nearly closed before the other Wheatley was now looking down at him again. “Biomechanical android constructs of this facility may sometimes experience their cores entering a sleep mode when a construct feels something close to their original bodies. A feel in the sense of an emotion.” Excitedness, arousal, revenge, chivalry, etc etc.
His eyes widened at the sensation of skin touching ‘skin’, the part of his body now being massaged hard in other Wheatley’s hand. Craig’s eyes rolled into the back of their sockets before they closed and let out another moan-like sound, kissing back with an open mouth and feeling like android mush by this point.
(Source: afactualandroid)
He had his mischievious expression at first, as you gave your argument. “Ah, so you l-“, he said, but was stopped by your kiss. He was first suprised, but then responded eagerly, placing his own head again on your head, letting it glide through the white hair, entangle his fingers with it. A low purrr escapes his throat, letting your lips slightly vibrate in the kiss. His other hand lowered again to your crotch, feather light fingers stroke over the spot between your legs. You feel his teeth on your lip nipping at the soft skin, then he leaned back, grinning wide. “So? Show me how much yo like it, …Craig!”, he whispered, kissing your cheekbone.
He let out a sound similar to a moan as the other Wheatley was now kissing him back, the optic in his torso closed completely and letting its host have the attention. Craig’s lower half leaned forward slightly against the other’s hand, edging on for more.
The kiss broke, and his lips were still parted, opening his eyes when nothing was happening. His pupils had gone completely black save for the pink 2-layer ring design, an exact miniature version of his core. “You can feel my answer to that,” he replied quietly.
(Source: afactualandroid)
Chell decided to speak through the speaker system. “Is that so, Craig? Then can I ask you something? Why, pray tell, would I need a Fact Sphere when I could use the Internet?”
The optic’s expression and Craig’s expression matched each other then; a narrow-eyed glare.
“Ask me a question then, and I will answer it faster than your Google.”
Chell smirked. “Very well, then. What is the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow?”
“It depends on the size of course, and the breed. Male? Female? Canadian, African, Super African, Toulouse, Brown Chinese, Pilgrim, Sebastopol?” He replied, hands on his hips.
“Only by accident and not very willingly, yeah.” Trix eyed him, wondering if she should comment on his hands or if it’d annoy him. “Uh… I had a slight disagreement with someone over my right to keep breathing. She figured dumping me down there would resolve the problem.” A note of smugness crept into her voice. “Except I was more resourceful than she gave me credit for and I managed to work my way back up. Found the casing, but never saw any actual mantis men. …If they’re still around.”
“Is everything OK with you?” She kept it generalized; she could be referring to the twitching finger or it could be a broader question of his overall wellness and mood. She’d be happy to have either answered. Was he just here to thank her for the book? Or was there more to it? Her own fingers flexed.
“They should not be, their lifespan was only supposed to be for an odd number of years in the single-digits.” Double digits, even number.
He picked up the pen-looking item, figuring it as some pet project of a british science-fiction fan scientist slash engineer judging by the shape. “Despite a normally horrible fate from something like that, I am glad to see you made it. Of course as a woman of your physique and energy the odds were slightly closer to your favor. Congratulations.”
His optic looked down at his hand, the finger still twitching to get free. He would straighten it out, then curl it back to normal, but it was still stuck. It’s shutters lowered closer to each other in concentration.”I am perfectly fine, thank you for asking, however,” he replied, facing Trix.
“I’m glad I made it out, too. Had to cheat a bit, but whatever keeps me alive is good. Thanks.” Her physique and energy, huh? Trix was pleased- and a little flattered. She had a feeling the androids tended to look down a bit on their more fallible human compatriots. Or she knew she would in their position. Positions… Oh yes, she’d definitely be giving that some more thought later.
“That’s good to hear,” she said, reaching out to touch his hand. “And yes, I’m genuinely interested, not just being polite.”
“You are welcome,” he replied, “A simple compliment that doubles as fact. Two stones one bird.” Okay he got the last part wrong but don’t tell him he was doing so well.
The pen took his attention for a few seconds again, about to put it down - or let it just hang in the air - before Trix placed her hand on his. Both he and his optic looked down, his finger twitching under her fingers, which willed him even more to try and subtly get it free. “And what ever would you be interested in?”
The camera on the wall turned to face Craig. Good evening, and again, welcome to the Aperture Science Human-Aided Enrichment Center.
The core in his torso was startled, and Craig looked up at the camera. Another facility different from his own, so soon?
“Incorrect,” he replied, “This is Wheatley Laboratories, and I am not a test subject, I am a biomechanical android construct named Craig, built as a Fact core. What have you done to the cameras.”
Wheatley couldn’t find his way out of a paper bag with his flashlight on but the amount of multiuniverse doorways he had somehow concocted was getting ridiculous.
The Aperture Science Connected Human Examining Laboratory Lifeforms would like to inform you that this is, in fact, Aperture Science. She would also like to inform you that she does not know the purpose of a Fact Sphere and that she has done nothing to the cameras.
The core in his torso looked skeptically at the camera, and Craig followed suite.
“I am exactly what it sounds like, A - S - C - H - E - L - L. I currently have over 750 petabytes of information on any possible subject. My purpose is to provide that information to the mainframe.”
Chell decided to speak through the speaker system. “Is that so, Craig? Then can I ask you something? Why, pray tell, would I need a Fact Sphere when I could use the Internet?”
The optic’s expression and Craig’s expression matched each other then; a narrow-eyed glare.
“Ask me a question then, and I will answer it faster than your Google.”
“Only by accident and not very willingly, yeah.” Trix eyed him, wondering if she should comment on his hands or if it’d annoy him. “Uh… I had a slight disagreement with someone over my right to keep breathing. She figured dumping me down there would resolve the problem.” A note of smugness crept into her voice. “Except I was more resourceful than she gave me credit for and I managed to work my way back up. Found the casing, but never saw any actual mantis men. …If they’re still around.”
“Is everything OK with you?” She kept it generalized; she could be referring to the twitching finger or it could be a broader question of his overall wellness and mood. She’d be happy to have either answered. Was he just here to thank her for the book? Or was there more to it? Her own fingers flexed.
“They should not be, their lifespan was only supposed to be for an odd number of years in the single-digits.” Double digits, even number.
He picked up the pen-looking item, figuring it as some pet project of a british science-fiction fan scientist slash engineer judging by the shape. “Despite a normally horrible fate from something like that, I am glad to see you made it. Of course as a woman of your physique and energy the odds were slightly closer to your favor. Congratulations.”
His optic looked down at his hand, the finger still twitching to get free. He would straighten it out, then curl it back to normal, but it was still stuck. It’s shutters lowered closer to each other in concentration.”I am perfectly fine, thank you for asking, however,” he replied, facing Trix.
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