{"sf1_id":1986146,"sf2_id":"Vm25zgZe","title":"Electroluxe!, Chapter Four.","author":"BoxCrate","words":2396,"posted_at":"2023-05-16T04:52:09.000Z","tags":["1960s","1970s","Cat","HMOFA","Human","Mild Retro-Futurism","Robot"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1986146-electroluxe-chapter-four","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/Vm25zgZe","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/19/77/19779b13-f4b1-4492-85be-18a259a72e72","description":"Imported from SF2 with no description.","content":"\\\u003eYou awoke from yet another dreamless, rock-like slumber.  \n \\\u003eSleep tended to be like that now. Seemed even your brain had little enough energy to make up something interesting most of the time.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eBut dreamless was always the most satisfying.  \n \\\u003eYou actually managed to wake up feeling somewhat refreshed, which was rare these days.  \n \\\u003eThe heavy oak bedset creaked quietly as you rolled your legs off it and stood.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eEven the constant stiffness in your back was fairly muted.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eNot even five whole minutes awake, and it was shaping up to be a good day.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou did a few quick morning stretches.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eTrying to touch your toes caused an almost excruciating tugging sensation in your heels.  \n \\\u003eBut less so than yesterday.  \n \\\u003eProgress!\n\n \n\n\\\u003eSpeaking of progress, you decided to get all of your chores out of the way as soon as possible.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eHopefully you'd make a few hours to play around with one of the many projects you've been neglecting.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou tried to forget that you told yourself that every weekend as you trudged down your stairs to the life giving percolator.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou pulled your favorite employee gift mug out from the cupboard, smirking tiredly at the 'Employee Of The Month, November 1968 – Anon Mous' Engraved into the side.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eDamn right.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou poured some coffee into it and took a tentative sip.  \n \\\u003eAh, just hot enough. Good day indeed.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou looked down into your mug, then out to your slightly overgrown backyard.\n\n \n\n\\\u003ePerhaps today was the day you would have to do some trimming, spring has been sprung for a while now.\n\n \n\n\\\u003ethe slight shagginess doesn't stop the bountiful blooms of roses and cherry flowers from being nice, though.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou cupped the mug with both hands and sipped again.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYep.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eWait, how is there already coffee?\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou looked back down.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eA perfectly brewed cup stared silently back at you.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eCouldn't have been from last night, if you had left the percolator on all night you'd have been smoked out before you'd even gotten to sleep.\n\n \n\n\\\u003ePlus, why the hell would you be making coffee before bed?\n\n \n\n\\\u003eThis is weird.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou look around your kitchen.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eDoesn't look too burglarized.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eLooks a bit cleaner than usual, but you did that.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eThat at least would change when you got your new robot.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eWhat a great day that'll be.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou rubbed an eye with your free hand.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eWait, wasn't that yesterday?\n\n \n\n\\\u003eOh, right.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eJulie.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou nod in acceptance, taking another sip from your beloved mug.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eShe must have made it for you.  \n \\\u003eAmazing how she already knew when you'd wake up.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou should thank her, she probably needs it.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eBut that begs the question.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eWhere is she?  \n \\\u003eGiven that you probably passed right by her in your sleepy haze, you simply retraced your steps back up the stairs, stopping when you hit your bedroom.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eMaybe she had gone there to wake you up or something after she made the coffee and somehow you missed eachother.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eNope, just your bed.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eMaybe you should get more furniture. It's spartan in there, even by your standards.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eThen the spare room.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou knocked. No response.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eThen opened the door.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eJust a bedroom, even more barren than yours, with a charging pad in one corner, and some boxes in the other, exactly how you left it.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eOther than how the pad was now bereft of cat.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eHm. Must be downstairs doing something already.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eEventually, you had searched almost your entire house.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou couldn't find hide nor hair of the bot.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eHopefully she didn't just decide to take off in the night.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eA robot with an advertised '20 mile range!' would just barely make it out of town before running out of battery.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou absentmindedly wondered what a cop would think of that.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eOn your trip to the mudroom to look outside, you spotted something strange in the den.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eDid you really close that box back up?\n\n \n\n\\\u003eSeems like a waste of time.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eEither way, since you were on your way to the front door you might as well take some trash with you.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYour brain gets jolted when the light force you expect to lift the box with doesn't budge it at all.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eWhy the hell is this heavy? Did you forget an extra charging pad in there or something?\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou toss the top half of the box off again.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eA suspiciously cat robot shaped sheet lies beneath.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eWell, that explains that.\n\n \n\n\\\u003ePulling the sheet off, you almost expect Julie to be smiling at you, like this is some dumb joke or something.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eBut her eyes are completely off, and she's back in the neutral hands folded pose she was in when you opened the box yesterday.\n\n \n\n\\\u003ethe only difference is her previously perfectly straight black hair is just the tiniest bit disheveled.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou snap your fingers in front of her face.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eNothing.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eShe really did just pack herself back up.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eGreat sign.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"Julie, wake up.\" You say.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eHer eyes blink back to life, and you offer a smile that doesn't feel like it reaches your eyes.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"Hey Julie.\"\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"H-hi Anon.\"\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou search her eyes for a bit.  \n \\\u003eYou find very little, other than that they are a very faint ice blue now.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eAs well as the slightest blush glowing from her fuzzy cheeks.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"Ready to see the house?\"\n\n \n\n\\\u003eShe nods.\n\n \n\n \n\n+------------+\n\n \n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou never thought that a house tour could be anything other than boring, But this was almost embarrassing.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou had taken care to clean a bit more thoroughly in the weeks before she arrived, but it seems that every time you brought her to a new room there was some mess that you had forgotten on your last Sunday cleaning bender.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eShe rarely said much of anything, just looked around and listened to you ramble on about the features in your fancy new construction ranch house.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou couldn't read any judgment from her.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eOr much of anything, really.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eDidn't stop you from judging yourself for not wiping down the pantry shelves, or forgetting to dust the bookcase.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eGod, maybe you really were turning into your parents.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eMom always was a stickler for things to be pristine.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou wondered what Julie thought.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eNothing good, if her lack of response other than “Mhm.\" or “Okay.\" was any indication.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eShe did have a couple small reactions, if you could call them that.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eWhen you were showing her the refrigerator, she seemed almost… Surprised? Her eyes blinked bright green, almost blending in with her dress for just a moment until she realized you were looking at her. They went back to a cool white right after, looking deeply into the open dishwasher.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eNot with longing or anything, seemingly just to avoid your gaze.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eSurely somewhere in the manual there would be something detailing what the eye colors mean.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eEmotions, obviously. The blue made sense, but you had no idea what green was supposed to mean.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eSomething for another time, in any case.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eShe would stare out into the backyard any chance she got, with you absentmindedly walking ahead without her a few times.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou decided to go off track and take a quick stroll\n\n \n\n\\\u003eThe laundry room was also not in the best of condition, with your heavy (and acid stained) work gear from earlier today sitting untouched on the floor.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou hoped you didn't come off as a slob.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eShe just looked at the machines as you explained the intricacies of cleaning battery acid off of canvas.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eEvery step you took and every room you showed off was just another opportunity for you to babble to a robot who clearly wasn't in the mood.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou almost considered calling it a night and just getting her other charging station set up in a spare bedroom somewhere, when she stopped in front of you, just staring into your eyes as if she was just about to say something.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eFor way too long.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eIs this hallway shrinking?\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"Heh, is there something on my face?\" You joke nervously.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eshe looked away for a split second.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"Anon?\" She asks meekly, readjusting the mint green frills on her uniform.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"Y-yes Julie?\"\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"Why did you wake me up?\"\n\n \n\n\\\u003eWhat?\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"What?\"  \n \\\u003e\"What do you mean why? It was time for the house tour!\" You said with manufactured chipper.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"That too. Why even show me your house?\"\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou did your best to keep up the clueless act.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"Well, if you're going to be staying here yo-\"\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"Exactly! Shouldn't you just be trying to send me back? I'm not the model you ordered.\"\n\n \n\n\\\u003eShe fretfully adjusted a stray lock of her hair.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"I powered down in the box to make it easier, you know? No goodbye necessary, just some tape and I'd end up wherever I was needed.\"\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"Not just for you, but for me. I don't want to miss y- this place. It hurts bad enough knowing I have to go back… That I was part of a mistake.\"\n\n \n\n\\\u003eOh. Right.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eThe whole reason you'd made that phone call earlier.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eThat whole 'sending her back' plan kind of just dropped from your mind when you found her crying in your room.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eThere's some truth to the adage that 'No plan survives first contact with the adorable cat robot!'\n\n \n\n\\\u003eOr something to that effect, you weren't listening very well when your father told you that one.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eThe 'right' thing from the outside looking in was to send her to her rightful owner.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eBut you'd already turned her on right?\n\n \n\n\\\u003ePhrasing.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eDidn't that guy on the phone tell you that once she had mapped a household and owner that she couldn't be reprogrammed?\n\n \n\n\\\u003eGod what was his name? Just last night you'd talked to him and it was already gone.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eDidn't matter, he would probably call back at some point anyway.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eMaybe you had gotten a little overexcited with the house tour, but it didn't feel right to send her back now.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eGod, this would've been so much easier if you had just bought the stupid self driving vacuum instead.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eIt was at this moment you realized you haven't said anything for quite some time.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"Well, uh…\" You trailed.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eHer calm yet somehow hard scanline stare wasn't helping you come up with the right answer.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"You don't have to lie to me you know. I'm a big girl, I can handle it.\"\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou refrain from mentioning that she is not a big girl in the slightest.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eTom's youngest was probably half a head taller.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eTurning your head away and huffing deeply, you decide you don't want to put up the energy of pretending that last night didn't happen if she doesn't.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"Fine, you want the awful truth?\" You say, leaning against the hallway wall.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eHer eyes flash orange for a split second at your sudden change in expression, and she backs up a little.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"Even if I wanted to 'get rid of you' I wouldn't be able to.\" You explain, airquoting.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"W-what?\"\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"You've been activated in my home.\"\n\n \n\n\\\u003eHer eye screens 'furrow' her blank space eyelids, confused.  \n \\\u003e\"What does that even mean? Just turn me off and send me back.\" They blink to a soft red as she crosses her arms.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eIs her tail swishing the back of her uniform like that?\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"_I._ _Don't._ Want. to.\" You say, emphasizing each word with pointed gestures.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"...Yes you do.\" She says under her breath, delicate fists clenching.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou just barely stopped yourself from saying 'nuh-uh' like a schoolboy, and ran a calloused hand down your face to cool off a bit.\n\n \n\n\"Why can't you just accept the fact that I don't want to send you back? It's not happening.\" You shoot, and cross your arms.  \n \\\u003eSilence.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou glare at her for just a bit, kind of expecting an answer.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eHer eyes shift to orange as she looks at the floor.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"What do I have to do to prove it to you, huh?\"\n\n \n\n\\\u003eHer expression looked almost guilty to you. But how could you know what she was actually feeling with the color?\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou sigh at the pitiful display.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"That guy I was talking to on the phone said as long as you weren't active you could be sent back.\" You finished with a wide gesture towards her.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"Now I'm not a genius robot repairman, but I'd say you seem pretty active to me.\"\n\n \n\n\\\u003eShe rubbed one of her dress buttons between fingers.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"I… Didn't know that.\"\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"Neither did I, until…\" You look over at the wall clock “Twelve hours or so ago?\"\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"S-so I'm staying here?\" She says, looking at you with eyes slowly, almost tentatively shifting to yellow.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou really need to check the manual again to learn what the colors mean.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"Yep, you're stuck with me.\" You deadpan.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eShe looks nervously around the room, her folded hands trembling in front of her body.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"I…\" She chokes.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eShe slumps against the wall, bringing her hands up to cover her face.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eA few hitched sobs muffle through her fingers.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou furrow your brow in frustration.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou really didn't think you were quite that bad of company.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"Wha-\"\n\n \n\n\\\u003eSuddenly you're practically tackled by a white and black blur.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou have to take a few steps back to regain your balance as the catgirl clings to you.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"Oh… kay.\" You said in a taut voice, hovering your arms over her.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eHer sudden, pitched sobs died down to sniffles and squeaks after a little while.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"T-thank you…\"\n\n \n\n\\\u003eThis girl was mad at you for not sending her away mere seconds ago.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eOn, off.  \n \\\u003eHot, cold.  \n \\\u003eStay, go.\n\n \n\n\\\u003ePerhaps dad was right about you never learning to fully understand them.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eShe really is just like a person.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"You're welcome..?\" You almost ask, tentatively returning her embrace.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eShe hums, rubbing her face into your chest.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou're not sure how to feel about it.  \n \\\u003eShe seems to suddenly realize what she's doing and almost flings herself off of you.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eHer cheeks flush pink, but her eyes stay yellow.\n\n \n\n\\\u003ethe only thought that stays in your mind is how warm that felt.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou slowly lower your arms, looking quizzically at the beet red cat.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eAre there lights under her cheeks doing that? How does a blush that strong make it past fur?\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou should probably say something.  \n \\\u003e\"Hey, everything is going to work out, alright?\" You offer. \"I'm not getting rid of you.\"\n\n \n\n\\\u003eShe smiles happily through the deep pink.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"Do you want to go see my favorite room?\"\n\n \n\n\\\u003eShe nods like before, but with more enthusiasm.","series":{"name":"Electroluxe!","previous":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1980068-electroluxe-chapter-three.json","next":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1998163-electroluxe-chapter-five.json"}}