[Hard to quantify, Connor had said, and it certainly is that. Even with Arenvald’s description providing a small amount of context, in which the android tries to wrench secondhand understanding out of, it’s hard to process. He doesn’t know where to categorize nor partition it aside — it’s “other”, not belonging with his normal senses or sensors, but not quite egregious enough to squirrel away in that corner part of his mind, where all the (doubts) errors exist that he tries to ignore.
Being an outside influence, not wrought from internal uncertainty, precludes it from that anyway. On those grounds alone, Connor can feel little guilt in admitting that pleasure feels… well, pleasurable. A faint novelty, a new curiosity. Insight into what it must be like to be human, one sensation in a veritable array of them.
He opens his mouth to say something — possibly to prod for more clarification in his rather unyielding manner — but there’s the sound of something clattering, and Connor barely manages to assume that it’s the removal of his friend’s gauntlet before Arenvald is turning around, offering his hand.
Connor’s still, only giving him a blink and a single spin of blue at his temple. But his lips quirk into a small grin, eyebrows rising by small degrees, and sees no reason why he shouldn’t take Arenvald’s hand.]
I would hope so, otherwise I’ve put you in a very uncomfortable situation.
[YOU ALREADY DID CONNOR
But, out of nothing more than pure curiosity, not thinking of whatever implications might come from it just yet, Connor reaches out and grasps Arenvald’s hand lightly with his own fingers, a straightforward but not unkind touch. Is the sensation any different like this, he wonders?]
no subject
Being an outside influence, not wrought from internal uncertainty, precludes it from that anyway. On those grounds alone, Connor can feel little guilt in admitting that pleasure feels… well, pleasurable. A faint novelty, a new curiosity. Insight into what it must be like to be human, one sensation in a veritable array of them.
He opens his mouth to say something — possibly to prod for more clarification in his rather unyielding manner — but there’s the sound of something clattering, and Connor barely manages to assume that it’s the removal of his friend’s gauntlet before Arenvald is turning around, offering his hand.
Connor’s still, only giving him a blink and a single spin of blue at his temple. But his lips quirk into a small grin, eyebrows rising by small degrees, and sees no reason why he shouldn’t take Arenvald’s hand.]
I would hope so, otherwise I’ve put you in a very uncomfortable situation.
[YOU ALREADY DID CONNOR
But, out of nothing more than pure curiosity, not thinking of whatever implications might come from it just yet, Connor reaches out and grasps Arenvald’s hand lightly with his own fingers, a straightforward but not unkind touch. Is the sensation any different like this, he wonders?]