A metal heart, much like my own

"It's not right, y'know!"

The synth's head slowly moves up, looking away from the countertop he was stationed behind and in the process of wiping down for the fifteenth time since the marketplace had opened that morning. Standing on the other side was a man- A human, specifically, and not a particularly healthy one either from what he could gather- assuming his scanning equipment wasn't acting up again.

The angry-looking man leaning just a bit too close was obviously old- Even an unaugmented organic could see the obvious wrinkles in his skin, along with the bushy gray beard which- Eyebrows aside- made up the entirety of the hair on the man's head. Beyond that, the scans indicated that the gentleman had a blood pressure far higher than it ought to be and his olfactory sensors could pick up the clear scent of something strong on his breath. Putting his personal judgement aside, J-129 went into his usual, cheerful sales pitch.

"Good afternoon, sir! Lovely weather we are having, isn't it?" He spouted off the pre-programmed line, putting emphasis on the last part as he gestures out at the pouring, heavily polluted rain. He'd always liked the rain- the sound of it on his modest little metal stall was soothing, especially when dealing with customers like this.

The old man gives a derisive little laugh, glaring at the synth. "Lovely? christ, if they're gonna be givin' you damn appliances our jobs you'd think they'd at least give you some common sense to go with it," he spat. J-129 would frown if he could- His face wasn't actually designed with different expressions in mind. No, what he had was nothing more than a white piece of molded plastic stuck in a neutral expression, a pair of glowing orange eyes peeking out from the sockets of the humanoid mask.

"My apologies, Sir!" He said the pre-programmed response, almost unwillingly- He wasn't able to resist what his programing told him to do, but that didn't mean he had to want to do it. The customer was being rude to him- why should he be the one to apologize? "If it pleases you, I would be more than happy to tell you which of our items are currently being sold at a discount price-"

"DISCOUNT?!" The old man roars, slamming a fist down on the countertop. "I DON'T WANT YOUR DAMN DISCOUNT!"

J-129 puts up his hands in what he hopes would be a placating manner, but it seems it wouldn't be enough for the old man continued shouting.

"I'VE LOST EVERYTHING!" He shouts. "AND IT'S YOUR FAULT!"

J-129 Wasn't quite sure he followed. "I- I'm sorry?" He asks, the old man scoffing- Both at his words, and the slight stutter in their delivery.

"Oh, what's wrong, machine?" He asked, venom in his tone. "Does that not compute? Ever since you bastards hit the streets, people Don't wanna hire humans no more!"

The synth wasn't sure how that was his fault, and was about to try to convey that to the man when another voice cut in from the left. It was soft, a feminine voice that made J-129's vocal processor catch in his throat.

"Why don't you leave the poor thing alone, Jed?"

The synth's head snaps to the woman he'd failed to notice approaching. She was short, pale- As most of the humans living in the lower areas of the city were- With jet-black hair cascading down around her shoulders, and the most beautiful, deep purple eyes he had ever seen. He'd seen her visit the marketplace every once in a while, but never had she actually stopped at his stall- At least, before now.

"It's none of your damn business what I do, Violet." The old man sneers at the woman. "I know you're from outside the city, but even the dumbest of savages out there know these buckets of bolts Don't have any real feelings."

The woman- Violet- bristles at this remark. "I beg to differ!" She protests, causing the man to give a groan of annoyance.

"Oh, come on. Don't tell me you actually believe that bullshit marketing blurb," he says dismissively, before taking on a mocking tone. "All Reignforest robots are specially designed with their own complex personalities and emotions!" Jed scoffs, spitting up a decent amount of phlegm onto the countertop, much to J-129's annoyance and Violet's disgust.

"I used to work in those factories, before they replaced me with one of his kind," jed shot a glare at the synth, who was busy wiping down the counter once again. Sixteen times… "Sorry to break it to you sweetheart, but it's all bunk. Tin cans only come with six or seven personalities, all pre-programmed- And none of them are capable of emotion, beyond what it takes to sucker people like you out of their money."

The woman crosses her arms over her chest, raising an eyebrow. "Didn't you say one of them took your job? Looks to me like they suckered you out of your money, too."

Jed just stares at her, mouth agape at the statement, a boiling rage barely hidden behind his eyes. The old man looks from the woman to the synth, absolutely fuming with anger but unable to do anything about it. After a moment of stewing in his own blend of fury and embarrassment, he simply turns and walks away, muttering some vague threat under his breath as he does so.

J-129 watches him go before turning his attention to Violet- and immediately freezing up as his eyes meet hers. Without the distraction of a rowdy customer, and with a proximity to him she'd never had before, the robot was able to fully appreciate the woman's beauty. The scattered freckles dotting her cheeks, the mostly faded scar on her cheek, the gleaming silver heart-shaped locket that dangled around her neck…

He hadn't meant to stare, nor had he meant to completely zone out, but as luck would have it, he found that somehow he'd wound up doing both. An amused look was evident on her face as the machine shakes his head, hoping to regain his focus. "I- I'm sorry, what?" He asks, an embarrassed tone in his voice- Said embarrassment only deepening as she begins to laugh. Oh, but what a laugh it was…

"I asked if you were alright- Jed is a bit… well, he's a bit rough, even with people he does like."

J-129 just nods slowly, making a mental note that, next time he did maintenance on himself, he'd need to check the interior of his torso for any Butterflies that may have wound up trapped inside. "How... Do you know him?"

The human just gives a shrug, leaning against the counter. "One of the first people I was introduced to when I was brought into the city. We've lived in the same Scavenger's shelter since then. Don't take what he was saying too personally- from what I heard, him getting fired had nothing to do with his replacement- And everything to do with his bad habit of drinking on the job."

The machine isn't quite sure how to respond to this, a quiet "Oh…" being the only sound to escape his speakers, for a time. After a few seconds, his eyes find their way back to the locket, and he speaks up again. "That's a very nice necklace you're wearing," he comments, hoping his voice didn't sound as nervous as he felt.

Violet's soft eyes fall downward as she grabs the locket, holding it up for a second, a smile crossing her lips as she opens it up. She leans in closer, holding it out for the synth to see the picture inside-

The tiny screen inside of the locket flickers ever so slightly, but the robot can still recognize both figures in the image being shown- Violet, a bit younger than she is now, the difference likely between two and three years by his guess, standing beside another robot- He recognized the model as one that came before his own, and judging by the look of his dirt-covered plastic casing, he hadn't been properly maintained for a while.

"That's H-714," Violet said, her voice soft. "But I always called him Harry. He's the one who found me, out in the wasteland between the cities. He brought me here, taught me how to be a proper scavenger. He was like a father to me."

J-129 looks up from the photograph, detecting the change of tone in Violet's voice, and something about her use of words. "Is he…" his voice trails off, however, unable to find a good way to ask the question without seeming insensitive. Fortunately, though, he doesn't need to, as a sigh comes from the organic.

"Yeah… Shut down about a year ago, hasn't come online since. I've tried rebooting him, replacing his batteries, swapping parts, but… nothing happens." She stares at the locket for a few moments more, only looking away when she feels a hand on her shoulder- One that's cold, hard, and made of plastic. Her eyes meet the Synth's, and she swore, she saw something almost like sympathy in those bright, orange lights. The smile, which had left her the moment she began to talk about Harry- Returns, albeit much smaller. "What is your name?" She asks the merchant, who seems surprised for a moment before responding.

"My designation is Reignforest Salesbot unit J-129!" He responds, the pre-recorded line sounding much more confident than he actually felt. Again, Violet's musical laughter graced his microphones- He swore, if he were capable of blushing, the heat rushing to his plastic face would melt the damn thing.

"J-129…" Violet repeats, seeing how the name felt to say. "How about just Jay? Sounds better, if you ask me."

The synth looks down for a moment, considering it. J-129… Jay. One was cold, unemotional. A product number. But the other- it was different. It felt Alive, almost human. If he could smile, he would be as he looks back up at Violet. "Jay… I like it."

Violet nods approvingly before checking her wrist- The thick metal bracelet on it lighting up as the display screen shows her something that made her frown and make a grunt of annoyance. She gives Jay an apologetic look, taking a small step back into the slowly clearing rain. "Hey, I gotta get back to the shelter- Gonna be going out with a scavenger party soon, and I wanna get ready before I go. It was nice meeting you, Jay! I'll be sure to stop by again sometime!"

The machine watches her go, hesitantly putting up a hand to wave goodbye- a gesture she returns as she vanishes into the crowd. Jay stares ahead blankly for a few minutes, playing back clips of the conversation and lamenting the fact that he didn't have any breath that the girl could take away. Unfortunately, though, he eventually came to the conclusion that he'd need to get back to work. As he waits for the next customer to approach, he grabs his rag with one hand, and the spray-bottle of cleaning fluids with the other, getting ready for round 17...