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video: un; LT_ANDERSON

[You know things Hank still hates? Speaking on networks. He'd had enough of his chat days and preferred the company of books more than anything else. Still a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do. So you're getting video of a tired looking man stuck in a suit that he already absolutely loaths. This thing reminds him that the last three years have given him the dreaded 'cop gut', in a large part due to his self-destructive diet.]

Hey, this is Hank Anderson. I really hate using this...so I'll make it brief. One, what the hell is going on? Anyone with more knowledge than being tossed in here would be welcome. And does this place have booze? I feel like this might help dull the pain. Thanks.

[Honestly, this is just small talk for what's really important to him and the whole point of this conversation.]

Anyway...if you see an android walking around calling himself Connor, lemme know. About six feet tall, perfectly combed hair, a vest with 'Android' written in the back in bright white letters, glowing symbols on his clothing, an LED circle on his right temple [He points to his own head, that's where it should be], may or may not mutter about deviants, androids, dogs, and coming from CyberLife, you can't miss him.

If you're watching let me know if you're here!

[Stop making him worry, he just got here and his suit itches. OH right and an important PSA.]

Right, if you see him licking something, yeah, it's perfectly normal he uses it to analyze things, but shit, it's still disgusting no matter what stupid space circumstances we're stuck in. And before you ask, no, I don't fucking know why CybeLife decided this was the best way to make him do it.

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Of course not. I've heard the quality is... mediocre, at best. [He frowned a little.] It can also produce alcohol, though it has been reported to be equally terrible.

[He sneaks a glance in the Lieutenant's direction, trying to gauge how he's taking all of this. He gives him a sympathetic look.] Sorry, Hank.

Yes. I'd never been in a chapel. Or anything like it. [Connor wasn't sure if Hank was aware of the fairly uniform agreement that places of worship were no places for androids back home.] It's very... peaceful.

Tch. What I wouldn't give for a burger stand just about now. [That's not going to happen of course. No one is going to descend from the heavens and give him a chicken sandwich and a sugar-filled soft drink. He doesn't seem to sad about the booze, however.] Well as long as it's not killing me, then I don't see the problem. [He's had moonshine before. Mediocre is almost a compliment.] I always wanted to try astronaut ice cream but this shit's making me regret even thinking about it...

[For all intents and purposes, Hank looks okay despite the fact of everything that is happening and the stupid outfit he's wearing. Maybe it's just a testament to a human's ability to adapt once they are cornered and have no other choice, or maybe Hank's just too exhausted to really think about it more thoroughly. He gives the android a small, tried, bittersweet half-smile in return.] It ain't your fault Connor.

[Figures Connor wouldn't have been in one. They never had to deal with that type of crime yet.]

Yeah probably...I stopped going a while ago.

[Before then. And as he had told Connor, there were a few choice words he'd say if he met his maker, after all.]

[The look Connor gave him implied that maybe he disagreed a little. Maybe not having burgers at the ready was a good thing.]

It is killing you, Lieutenant. [He sighed quietly.] I know you've ordered me never to list out all of the ways that consuming the amount of alcohol you do can affect your health again, but... I'm tempted to override that order for your own benefit.

Connor stepped into the elevator, taking it down to the second Deck.] Here we are. Those are the replicators. [He pointed out a few machines that looked like fancy vending machines.]

Lots of thing are killing me.

[It's said in a sort of deadpan humor, both self-defeating and also attempting to poke fun at the situation. Connor might notice it doesn't have the negative same edge as when they first met or during their talk near the bridge, but Hank is still...well Hank. However it's the android's last comment that causes Hank to turn at him and raise an eyebrow in mild amusement.]

Well it wouldn't be the first time you overrode a direct order, Connor.

[The ride in the elevator was mercifully short and quiet, but that look never left Hank's face until they arrived.]

Wait, those things? They just look like fancy vending machines. [Nailed it.] I expected something fancier.

[Connor glances over at Hank, expression a mix of disapproval and concern, but he doesn't say anything. Even if Hank's tone is lighter than some of their other talks, his casual mention of his own death was worrisome to Connor.

The look of feigned innocence from Connor was obvious.]

I explained it to you before, Hank, when I have conflicting priorities I sometimes have to override direct orders. [He's definitely not subtly smirking. Not at all.]

Well, they're food replicators, so, in a way, they are just fancy vending machines except no payment is required. [Smartass.]

[The 'disapprovalcern' combo is noted, but Hank just shrugs when Connor looks over. At least until it was obvious that the android was being, well being a smartass.]

Well it's not like CyberLife's gonna give you any here, right? [And from his tone he does not mean that in a bad way either. If anything what happened at Kamiski's place just makes Hank wonder if...eh best not to think of it when looking at a fancy, but should be fancier food replicator.]

How nice...it's not soyent green is it? [Wait, would Connor even know what he meant by that?] Actually never mind. Better off not knowing even if you did.

Correct. My mission at this point is to find a way to return to Detroit. Then we can complete our investigation. [As if the case would still be there, waiting for them, when they returned. If they returned. He also had no intention of returning without Hank. What good would that do?]

Soylent green? [His LED flickered blue for a moment as he looked it up and then raised his eyebrows.] No. It isn't. I've done further testing on the food. It is replicating what it's being asked to replicate. Bread, or meat, has the same chemical structure and makeup as real bread or meat, but, like I mentioned, I've heard it doesn't taste very good.

... And sometimes it includes additional compounds that result in illness.

[He turned to give Hank a smile as if he hadn't just mentioned the food making him sick.] What are you going to get?

Honestly between this shit and what's happenin' back home, I'm gonna need a month's vacation. [Hank was going to do as Hank was going to do; complain because it makes him feel like he's sort of control in a situation when he's not, and also casually imply that they'd be able to go back, or at least hope for it.]

Guess I shouldn't be surprised they'd put that reference in your memory bank, Connor. [He listens, noting off what the android is saying. Its detailed, as expected.]

Wait illness? Just randomly makes people sick? Shiiiit.

[Suddenly the hunger is less prominent.]

Guess that's why you insisted in coming. I don't know, if its gonna taste like crap, might as well make it look like a hamburger, right?

All CyberLife androids have access to an encyclopedia of knowledge... and more. You really shouldn't be surprised. [Again, he smiled softly.

But then his thoughts were brought back to the terrible replicators and he nodded, frowning a little.]

Symptoms similar to food poisoning seem to be the most common. [He'd heard of fatigue and hallucinations as well. It honestly seemed like just about anything was possible and none of it good.]

Yes. I'd very much prefer it if you allowed me to test things before you consumed them. I understand that it might not always be possible, but I hope you consider it.

Maybe for you it seems logical, Connor.

[Hank had been amazed by the other able to do reports to CyberLife, after all.]

Great...I get it now; if it tastes like shit you can't really know either. I might not be an android, but usually a smell or a taste can tell you how bad something is. [That being said, he looks back at Connor, pressing briefly a hand to his face.] Connor I'm not going to call you up every time I eat something. Unless it can...I don't know, make some beef jerky out of it and I keep some of it for later. Did you test out how long the food lasts?

[Connor frowned a little.]

Is there a reason why you don't want me to run tests on your food if I'm available? [He gave Hank an inquisitive look, trying to understand Hank's reasoning.

He glanced at the machine and then down at the floor before shaking his head.] No... But I would assume it lasts as long as natural food of the same kind would.

I'm going to have to bother you three times per day! I've sure you've got...other things to do.

[He looks back at Connor, eyes on the table before grumbling. Yeah, that's a lie and they both probably know it. Eventually he throws his hands in the air.]

Okay fine! I just don't want you to...start fucking analyzing all my meals like you're a goddamn nutritionist. It's enough that you were already doing that before.

[With the truth out, he just lets out a sigh. He is touched that Connor is willing to go this length but there's a stubborn pride to him he'll have a hard time letting go.]

Look...I'll do it as long as you don't complain about everything I'm going to eat.

Edited 2018-07-23 01:17 (UTC)

[If anyone understood how stubborn Connor could be, it was Hank. And the android didn't seem to have any intention of backing down.] It's no problem. Especially considering your well-being is at stake.

[Connor glanced away when Hank mentioned listing out nutrition.] I won't... Though I think it might be helpful to hear what you're consuming sometimes. [He frowned a little. He'd only done it once.]

Deal. [He stuck his hand out so they could shake on it.]

[Exactly. Better to have him on his side than be stuck having to fight the android about something for any reason. Still at this point he can't help but wonder; was this response still from what CyberLife expected of him (work with Anderson) or did Connor actually genuinely care for his well being?

Questions to ponder for another day, he supposes.]

Look if it makes you happy just...whatever. Don't overdo it.

[Prod Hank enough and he tends to relent. He looks down at the other's hand and can't help but laugh.]

What's this? We're going full handshake official in this agreement? What the hell did they do to you the past week?

[It is a good-natured joke, however. Hank quickly takes the other's hand and gives it a firm handshake for a few seconds.]

Edited (I spell good) 2018-07-23 22:57 (UTC)

[Connor glances down at his extended hand when Hank questions it, almost ready to retract it when he realizes he's just joking.]

I just thought that shaking on it might compel both of us to stick to our word.

[And now they've shaken on it. Now they have to do what they said they would... right?]

Are you going to get something now?

Heh heh, you're full of surprises, Connor. I promise.

[Hank would certainly hold his part of the bargain as much as he could. He then looks back at the machine like whatever he could think could somehow grow arms and eyes, and doubt briefly manifests in his facial expressions before his stomach begins to growl.]

Mind says no, but body says yes. Guess I've got no choice. Mind showing me how it works?

[Hank and anything technological, after all. This place was going to be a very slow burn of learning.]

[Connor cocks his head to the side, obviously puzzled by Hank's comment. He wasn't sure what he'd done that had surprised, or impressed, Hank, but he always liked when he was able to impress the lieutenant, so he ended up smiling softly at him.]

I believe you just tell it what you want and then confirm that it's understood you.

[Connor hadn't actually used the machine properly. He'd cheated and had it produce thirium by controlling it through physical contact interfacing.]

[He grins back at him before realizing what he's doing. Sometimes it was hard for Hank to remember Connor was an android, and a moment like this just further blurred the line.]

..right so that almost too convenient. [Maybe that's why it tastes like shit, he can't help but think.] Well uh...okay. How about a chicken burger? Shit, that's probably to vague. A chicken burger with pickles, butter and nothing else.

[Hank liked it simple. At first it looks like the machine was going to do nothing but as Hank got closer to perhaps yell at it or try something else, it creates and spits out his order on a plate (which might also be eatable?).]

Huh.

[It looks...not bad actually. At least visibly it's appealing. He goes to a table before realizing he was missing something important.]

Aww shit. Knew I forgot something. Hey uh...replicator! I need a fork and knife.

[Don't worry Connor he'd get the hang of it soon enough. The utensils (also eatable) come it just a short bit later and he looks pleased with him self, like that time he managed to switch his voice mail or his phone's ringing song to death metal.]

So I cut you a piece, you analyze it and then I can eat the rest?

[Connor watches, half tempted to reach out and interface with the replicator just to get a better idea as to what it was doing, how it processed things and where it was drawing the ingredients from to make the food but, for this time at least, he restrained his curiosity.]

I only require a very small sample. Unfortunately, the analysis assumes that the ingredients are uniform throughout the entire meal, which may not be the case. But, I think, testing it is better than not testing it at all.

[He could rattle off some probabilities for Hank, but he knew the lieutenant wasn't always fond of him doing this.]

Would you like to find a seat first?

[Wasn't always fond was a very polite way of saying it. His eyes squinted a bit at what Connor was saying, but at least he appreciated that he understood most of it.]

Eh, guess that sounds about right.

[Something about not being able to analyze everything and shit should be about the same in everything. Made sense to him. At the question, he nods before looking and moving towards one of the many two people table. Once seated, he'll push the tray in Connor's direction.]

Here. Knock yourself out.

[Connor leaned in, looking over the food for a moment before gingerly picking up the knife and fork. It was a strange sight, seeing an android with cutlery in hand.

He cut a small piece of the chicken away that was protruding out from under the bun. After he had the little piece, he set the knife and fork down and further picked apart the slice of chicken, taking only a small pinch to put in his mouth to analyze.

His LED flickered blue as he processed the sample, eyes unfocusing for a moment.

He blinked and looked back to Hank with a small smile.]

All clear. No contaminants detected.

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