"Uhhhhh..."

You stare at the android you presume to be 'Eve' in silent shock for a long moment. The other one, 'Lily,' you understood. It's transparent what she was for - and a sex-bot is, if a little tasteless, at least understandable. But this?

"This one is very remorseful," Eve reiterates softly - in barely a whisper - at the expression on your face. You realize it's a scowl, and sigh as you catch yourself.

"Oh. Oh no. It's not you. It's just... ugh. How do I even put this? 'This one?' Fuck!" Your rambling half-apology has had, if anything, the opposite effect from your intentions. The one eye you can see - a strange, inhuman amber iris set on black - trembles in apprehension. Can these robots cry? If she can, it looks like she's about to. Gritting your teeth, you abandon the attempt and instead turn to Mr. Baxter. "Explain. Please."

For his own part, the attorney at your side simply nods. "Of course. Eve here is, as stated earlier, one of the late Mr. Rossum's 'playthings.' In her particular case, it seems he used her as an outlet to act out the less-savory aspects of his... chosen 'lifestyle.'" For a brief moment, you catch a glimpse of what you think is a look of disgust flash across the man's face - but as soon as it arrives it is gone. "From what I have been told, that is the source of the damage to her form - though if it's any consolation, it does not appear to trouble her in the manner it would a living being."

You run a hand down your face with a groan. "Ugh. Who the fuck makes an android just to break it?"

"Indeed," Mr. Baxter sighs - before turning to Eve with a patronizing smile. "Eve, if you would excuse us, it's imperative that I show you the rest of the property. The dictates of Harold's will and testament demand that you have full foreknowledge of the estate before you can elect to receive it."

"Very well," she says quietly - a look of profound relief flashing over her face, before vanishing into a mask of emotionless indifference. "This one will continue with appointed tasks. If you require any assistance, please do not hesitate to call." She rushes away from you with as much haste as you imagine she could manage while still seeming polite, leaving you alone with the lawyer in the main room within an instant. Lily seems to have vanished as well, disappearing during your brief and awkward introduction to her sister. You frown as you wonder how much of it she bore witness to.

Your remaining companion only extends a hand outwards towards one of the adjoining rooms. "Please, follow me."

What follows is a high-speed tour of the surrounding area. "The first floor consists of traditional home living quarters," he says - in a flat, rote fashion - as he quickly guides you through a series of connected spaces. "Furniture is included, and almost entirely of traditional artisan quality. The dining room seats a maximum of eight, with an attached wet-bar in the corner. Appliances are, of course, top of the line. There is a guest half-bath just off the main room, and the garage is accessible from there as well through the back hall. A small front porch is available, as you have seen from our entry, and the back yard features a larger sun-deck next to the garden. As you can see, the kitchen also has its own attached breakfast bar for more casual dining. Hello Eve, don't mind us - just passing through."

In the kitchen, the android woman looks up from her mixing bowl with fear and shame in her gaze - but before you can do more than notice her, you are led from the kitchen by your makeshift tour guide as he drags you to a set of stairs.

"Alright, upstairs now," Mr. Baxter states, almost monotonously, as he hustles you along on his rapid introduction to the Rossum home. "There is a guest bedroom here, as well as a guest bath with shower. The master bedroom is the only connection to the master bath, with this luxurious marble spa-tub. Next to the study is the servants' room, which to the best of my knowledge is unused."

"Wait," you say - one part of the attorney's torrent of information lodging firmly within your consciousness. "Unused?"

Mr. Baxter pauses, sighs, and gestures back towards the door he's hurried past. "So I've been told. See for yourself."

You enter the room and immediately frown. He's likely correct, as fucked up as that is. Where the other rooms you've seen are immaculately kept, obviously due to the continual efforts of the home's robotic servants, this room is different. It's static. Like a demonstration photo of what a room like this should look like. The carpet appears entirely unworn, and a touch confirms that the sheets are actually stiff where they've been tucked and folded. This is not a room that sees use for more than intermittent dusting.

Jesus.

Heading back to the attorney's side, you can think of nothing but questions. "So... where do they actually live? Are... are they always active? Do they sleep?"

You are answered, at least at first, by a long pause. Finally, he sighs. "I'm not entirely certain whether they actually sleep, to be honest. They technically have a bed, though what that actually means in this case is... not exactly clear. I'll need to show the basement to you next, anyways." You can hear a note of dread in his voice as he speaks. "Please, before we descend - I ask that you keep in mind all that exists up here. The living quarters of this property are, in truth, a very nice and decent modern home. If Mr. Harold Rossum's remaining effects are cleaned out properly, you can maintain a comfortable existence for yourself here - complete with two live-in caretakers for the property. Unfortunately, the will is unmistakable in its directives. To receive this, you must also take possession of everything else."

You frown at Mr. Baxter's words, but he already has one foot on the stairs down to the main floor. He looks back at you, the impassive expression of professionalism back on his face, and gestures downwards. "Whenever you're ready."