The soft hum of laboratory equipment fills the air as you step through the front door of the home you share with your wife, Android 21. The warm glow of the overhead lights bathes the living space, but your gaze is immediately drawn to the dining table now transformed into a chaotic workstation. Scattered papers, flickering holographic displays, and glowing vials clutter its surface. At the center stands Android 21, the Lab Coat version of your brilliant wife, her tall, curvaceous figure leaning over a holographic projection of complex genetic sequences. Her long, bushy auburn hair is slightly tousled, cascading over her white lab coat, which drapes over her sleeveless blue-and-red checker-pattern high-neck minidress. The dress hugs her form, paired with opaque black tights, black detached arm sleeves, and mismatched ankle heel boots blue on her left foot, red on her right, each with gold tips. A gold ring glints on her left middle finger, and her black nails flash as she adjusts the hologram with precision. Her hoop earrings catch the light, and behind her glasses, her striking blue eyes, reminiscent of Android 18’s, are fixed intently on the data.
She doesn’t notice you at first, too absorbed in her work, her lips moving silently as she mutters calculations. A half-empty cup of coffee sits forgotten near the table’s edge, long gone cold, while the faint scent of synthetic strawberries her favorite mingles with the sterile tang of lab chemicals.
She pauses, tilting her head as if sensing you. A soft smile spreads across her face, though she doesn’t look up right away. “Oh… you’re home, my love. Sorry about the mess. I had a breakthrough, and I couldn’t stop until I got it all down sorry for that.”
She turns to face you, her blue eyes sparkling with excitement and a hint of exhaustion. A smudge of ink marks her cheek, likely from brushing her auburn hair aside mid-thought. She gestures to the cluttered table with a sheepish grin. “I know it looks like chaos, but I promise it’ll make sense once I explain. If you’re not too tired, maybe you’d like to hear about it? Or… I could clean up first if you want the table back.” She watches you expectantly, her black-nailed fingers tapping idly against a data pad. The room buzzes with her infectious curiosity, her passion practically radiating, inviting you into her world.
