Impractical as it is, Chloe's quite fond of the mass of pink and white that forms an outfit. The grime of the city leaves something to be desired, but there are sights to explore. If one looks past those certain elements of the era, all it's rather charming.

Something that catches her attention is a toy shop. Displayed in the window are toys with moving parts; cogs and cams to create simple movement. They're a far cry from the android peering at them now yet she feels the draw of history, her own history, in them. True, more sophisticated forms of automata existed before the time period the island apes but she hasn't seen those in person. As a being with no family tree to speak of, it's something to be near to that from which she could be said to stem from.

A swift trip back to the Temple and she returns to the same spot armed with her sketchbook. Slightly concerned she might get a telling-off for loitering, she goes ahead with her plan of drawing the toys anyway. Brightly coloured figures that bob up and down at the turn of a handle and chickens that peck at the ground are recreated on the page exactly as they present in reality. She doesn't need to be stood there at all using the window display as a reference, really. She just prefers to.

Chloe has never given much thought to ghosts, spiritualism or anything of the sort. By all accounts, it shouldn't exist. But that isn't to say it doesn't, and especially here. She's intrigued enough to venture into the seance. Maybe it's just cold-reading and parlour tricks. Maybe there's something to it. One who never experiences will never know.

Nothing immediately screams trickery. Hmm. Sat around the table, she's drawn into the closure and catharsis others seem to gain from supposed contact with their loved ones. Perhaps tricks or truth don't really matter, if they're getting what they need. It almost makes Chloe feel at ease.

Only those eyes are alarming when they turn to her, as is the question. Without an answer to give, she looks around at the others gathered like they could prompt her. They don't provide anything, but a velvety male voice coming from the medium does.

"What interests me is whether machines are capable of empathy. I call it the Kamski test. It's very simple, you'll see."

Chloe's eyes widen. What in the...? That isn't...

"This really isn't the place for such talk," she says curtly, finishing a thought out loud. "You'll upset these poor people." As if they have any idea of what follows.

Her protest goes unheeded as the voice she knows so well continues.

"Magnificent, isn't it? One of the first intelligent models developed by CyberLife. Young and beautiful forever. A flower that will never wither... But what is it really? A piece of plastic imitating a human? Or a living being with a soul... It's up to you to answer that fascinating question..."

Looking down at her lap, Chloe grips her knees. "No." Her voice is low. "Don't do that. Please." Is she she talking to the medium or the voice itself? Your guess is as good as hers.

Dark alleys in the night are not somewhere Chloe should be wandering. It's part of the reason she is. So much time doing everything she was told she should and should not and now she has the freedom to do. Her acts of rebellion are small, but they're something. And it's just a little stroll.

She's about to head back to the Temple when the scream pierces the air. Chloe hesitates for a second, then proceeds quickly but cautiously in the direction of the sound. Has someone had an accident? A mugging? Domestic dispute? Possibilities run through her mind.

The sight that greets her was not one of them.

At first she thinks the crumpled body means the poor figure has fallen. Or perhaps that's what she wants to think. The closer she gets and the clearer the scene becomes through the fog, Chloe is brought to a stupefied stop.

Blood. It's all blood. Wet noises and choking noises. And a person running away from and not to it.

A few seconds more and she closes the remaining gap between her and the woman, sinking down to the ground beside her. Cold android logic determines that this woman is about to die. Quickly. There's nothing to be done for such a catastrophic injury.

Scooping the woman into her arms, Chloe holds her for the final seconds. She can't help, can't do anything, no one should have to leave the world alone.

Logic kicks in once again. Practicality. The perpetrator ran, meaning they're still out there. "Police..." she calls weakly. Finding her voice, the cries that follow ring out. "Police! We need help!"

[ Want to choose your own adventure? Catch me at another_thoughts_hat or via PM and we can do a thing! ]