Foul Weather - OTA

[whatdoesithurt]

It was drizzling miserably as John hurried down the street to the hotel. His collar was turned up against the rain, although he was already thoroughly damp, and he wished very much that he wasn't going home to an empty bed

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[silicon_avatar]

Lore coming home to a bed was something of an event for himself. It could more accurately be described as Lore coming home to see if there were any electronics that he could pilfer and decimate in his room.

The android jogged up the steps himself, holding a book over his head to keep the balaclava beneath his gas mask from absorbing too much of the rain, and brushed himself off when he came into the lobby.

"Miserable weather," he grumbled to John in his borrowed voice, an offhanded comment to the stranger as he swiped off his suit- though it actually couldn't be uncomfortable to him.

[(feel free to ignore if you have too many tags.)]

[whatdoesithurt]

John was lighting up again, his old cigarette already dropped, damp and ruined, into the trash. The concierge giving him a dirty look could go to hell. He gave an agreeing grunt, looking the figure over. Strange, but not the strangest he'd seen.

[silicon_avatar]

"Those are supposedly bad for your health. Worse for other people." He sounded a little amused under the mask as he wiped at the lenses with the back of his arm. Not that he cared either way, obviously having little reason to worry.

[whatdoesithurt]

"How do you know that's not why I'm smoking them?" he asked, quirking one eyebrow.

[silicon_avatar]

"I don't. But why would you want to be self-destructive?" The question was honestly asked, non-judgementally. Damaging others seemed to be left out of the equation. There was always plenty of reasons for that.

[whatdoesithurt]

"Because my existance is already a very short one," he said, "and I pack in one year what most men don't see in their lifetimes." He took a long drag off the smoke. "So I don't see why not."

[silicon_avatar]

"Ah, understandable. Live as much as you can in a short amount of time. I always preferred the tactic of living despite what the world would have in store for me."

He wasn't particularly hard-pressed to get up to his room, and he tucked the script-book under his arm and stuck his hands in his pockets. "Short by normal design, or by someone else's? Your existence, that is?"

[whatdoesithurt]

"Mmm, a mix," he said, "not my own design. I'm not looking to die, but I don't exactly live the sheltered existence. And even if no one gets me, nature will catch up eventually."

[silicon_avatar]

Aw. Nature. Maybe he did feel a little bad for people who had to wait for that. It was a little less predictable than close minded and efficient counterparts.

"You don't look particularly pleased at the moment, though. All that living and still something missing?"

[whatdoesithurt]

This earned him a sharp look. "Do I look as though I'm yearning for anything?" If yes, don't answer honestly.

[silicon_avatar]

"You don't look satisfied. I don't know if that could constitute 'yearning'." Though the man's use of the word was intriguing. "Obviously if you are, you've already made up your mind to go and get it."

[whatdoesithurt]

"Who here is truly satisfied," he said wryly, "isn't that why we're brought to the damn hellhole in the first place?"

[silicon_avatar]

"Point," Lore admitted lowly, tilting his head almost doggishly. "Though this place supposedly produces things of that nature, doesn't it?"

[whatdoesithurt]

He snorted and shook his head. "I've learned what I need to learn to lead the life I want."

[silicon_avatar]

"Perhaps this line of questioning is a little off-putting. You'll have to forgive me. I was originally a scientist and that lends itself to socially inept behavior. Dr. Amir." He extended a gloved hand.

"Excuse the mask. Sometimes you make a few mistakes in the pursuit of science."

[whatdoesithurt]

"I'm used to it," he said, shaking the offered hand, "Hart. John Hart. Don't worry about the mask."