| TUA : Season One |
Harper is in the middle of an identity crisis, well, as much of an identity crisis that an ageless android is capable of having. After the mysterious death of her creator, Reginald Hargreeves, a string of chaotic events ensues...
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CHAPTER ONE:
THE ACADEMY AGENDA
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A figure stood at the top of the ornate stairwell, back straight, hands folded, feet together. An uncreased black dress fitted around a thin body, with pure white socks pulled knee high, and Mary-Jane shoes shining up against the light. Long, unrealistically curly blonde hair, tied away from the face with a thin red bow, head straight, eyes forward. There she stood, perfectly still, shallow breaths, in and out, ten blinks per minute.
"Harper!"
The harsh noise snapped the figure to attention, "Yes, Mr. Hargreeves?"
An old man with white hair and a carefully placed monocle, stood proudly at the bottom of the stairs.
"Begin your daily training sequence," he commanded, glaring up at her intensely, "Number One is waiting."
Harper gave a nod of confirmation, "Yes, Mr. Hargreeves."
Wednesday, June 12th, 7:00 a.m., partly sunny, 17 degrees warmer than yesterday.
Harper descended the stairs, making a sharp right turn once she reached the bottom, she headed down a hallway where the morning sunlight spilled through large paned windows. Her footsteps created a rhythmic beat against the tiled floor as she paced down the hallway, approaching the large oak door awaiting at the very end of the hall. Harper stopped short in front of the door and gave three consecutive knocks before entering.
Harper stepped inside to discover a young boy, seated in a chair, with his arms crossed and expression stoic.
The room was bare, except for two vintage wooden armchairs–one already occupied by the child– and a glass table placed between them, piled with folders and loose papers. The walls were gray and faded, and the floor was cracked from decades of use.
Smile and greet.
"Good morning Luther," Harper smiled warmly, taking a seat, "Shall we begin?"
Luther glared at her, "No, I don't feel good today."
Tolerate.
"Your Mother has already taken your temperature this morning, Luther," Harper persisted, "You are in perfect health, so we must commence training."
