reverienet | video: un; LT

[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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[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.

video: un; LT_ANDERSON

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