[Connor settles in easily next to him, resting his hands on the surface of the table and lacing his fingers together in a casual way. One pointer finger taps gently at the top of his hand, however, never quite able to still them completely.]
The only liquid that I can "drink" without issue is Thirium. It's the same chemical compound that exists in me now, acting as my blood — or so to speak. If I drank coffee, it would only be detrimental to my biocomponents. Think of it like pouring something similar into the gas tank of a car. I wasn’t created to digest it properly.
[It seems like Connor will facilitate the conversation down any road Prompto takes it, as he knows this is all mere preamble before they delve into the crux of the matter.]
It certainly wouldn't have the same effect on me as it does on you.
[ It's tempting, just to let the conversation steer itself, to not course-correct back to why they came in here in the first place. But that wouldn't be fair to Connor, not to what Prompto sees in him that he wishes the android would see in himself, nor would it be fair to himself. If he's ever going to make this normal for himself, he needs to open up about it more, and what does he have to be afraid of from Connor, of all people?
They's traveled to different worlds and worked alongside one another and against all odds, made it here with their memories intact. Prompto trusts him.
...It still isn't easy to broach. So much for keeping his knees still — it's like an earthquake under there. ]
Right, so. Uhh...about...y'know. What the game was talking about? My mark.
[ He begins, as he always does, from a distance. ]
D'you...d'you remember, back awhile, when I told you about the Empire? About how they...created their armies?
[And so the conversation eases itself into the path it was always meant to take, and Connor's face becomes more somber as Prompto begins to speak.
Connor's memory very rarely fails him, an android trait both a blessing and a curse. He nods, the conversation looping back to him as clear as day, even if it was literally worlds beyond them -- another time, another place.]
I do.
[It's his nature to draw up conclusions lightning-fast, created to parse every detail and towards what route it might lead. The flicker of his LED betrays that, but he's conscientious enough to let Prompto continue uninterrupted once he affirms his remembrance.]
Magitek Troopers. You said they were created by utilizing human lives.
[ And Connor can already probably see where this is going from a mile away. It's not like Prompto was super comfortable with the subject even then, when he wasn't revealing anything about himself, and he's not bringing it up again now when he is just for the Fun Facts About the Niflheim Empire Hour. So why is it so hard to keep talking?
Why is it so hard to even maintain eye contact? ]
So...yeah. I...I was supposed to be one of them. Wasn't, uh, obviously, but, I...
[ Sheepishly, he glances down and away, the fingers of his left hand closing over his right wrist once again. ]
— I'm sorry I didn't tell you before. If...anyone would get what it's like, it's you.
[The smallest tilt of a head, the usual cyclical flicker of his LED, a steady blue.]
You don’t have to apologize for anything, Prompto. It isn’t information you’re obligated to give to anyone, even if you think they're trustworthy.
[Connor is trying to fathom the issue from a human perspective. In which they put value upon individuality, on each one being different from the rest, not ‘created’ like Prompto is telling him now. But Connor, impossible to detach him from his synthetic roots, cannot quite relate to he discomfort it might bring a young man like his friend before him.
But he can understand it from a purely logical standpoint, which might be all that the other needs.]
I’m of course glad you didn’t end up to be like them. But your origins… they’re definitely not as important as the life you currently lead now, your choices or experiences that you’ve already made.
[Connor leans forward a little, hands still laced together on the table.]
Where I’m from, back in Detroit, there are other RK800s like me. Set to standby in case— Well. In case something detrimental happens to my current body. But there, as they are, they’re not… [He pauses, trying to find the words, forever skirting a personal line he’s still uncomfortable with crossing, caught between that and wanting to offer some mode of comfort.] …they’re still not me. They don’t have just that: my memories and experiences. The knowledge gathered from my own personal path I’ve undertaken.
So maybe the question I should ask you — a sincere one, not criticizing, mind — is why does it matter if that’s where you’ve come from? You’re not a Magitek Trooper. You’re very much a human. I don’t think it’s anything to be especially ashamed of.
[ There's logic in Connor's response, yes, but even more than that, there's the delivery, given so matter-of-factly that it leaves Prompto wondering why he even questioned any of it to begin with. It is, of course, because his fears don't come from a purely logical place, but when his fears and doubts have been ingrained in him since before he can remember, even a solid year or so of putting self-acceptance into practice isn't easy. Slowly, surely, he untangles himself, with the help of his friends, and rearranges his perception of himself. Most of the time, he's fine, but gods, some days...it's still hard as hell, to reflect on what he came from, and ask himself how he could possibly deserve this life that he's found, that he was so impossibly gifted, out of millions of others just like him. Any of them could be in his place right now, but he is the one who's here.
But it really is just that simple, isn't it? He's not a Magitek Trooper. He's human, and he's made something of his life. He's done his best, despite where he came from, despite his shortcomings. When Connor puts it so plainly like that, how could he possibly think otherwise?
It's elegant in its simplicity, and Prompto has to dip his head down and blink hard and fast against the tears that begin to build in his eyes. ]
It's all about how I choose to be, huh? [ He knows that. He's known that for some time. But the reassurance is still so important for him to hear, yet again, from a trusted friend.
A quiet moment passes, before Prompto at last looks up again, meeting Connor's gaze across the table. ]
It's all about how we choose to be.
[ Because that doesn't just apply to him. Connor, too. ]
[His words are affecting, but are they affecting in the way he wants them to be? Connor can see the glisten of tears in the other's eyes, even as he drops his head down to hide them. The small changes in breathing and tension across his body, that only he can notice because he was designed to. He worries, maybe, that he might've upset Prompto, until the young man speaks up.
It's all about how we choose to be.
Connor inhales even though he doesn't need the air, knowing the implication.]
...You've been given the choice to be who you want, Prompto. That's a precious opportunity, and one that you can't waste. All right?
[What's unspoken is still clear: Connor doesn't consider him quite in the same category. But he'll cheer Prompto on, as long and as much as he needs it.]
[ A moment passes, where yes, he thinks just that — that the said should be said for Connor, but he has a feeling his friend already knows what he thinks on that front. Connor has the choice to be who he wants to be, too, but if he's not ready for it yet, then Prompto won't push him. He has faith Connor will come into his own eventually, and when he does, Prompto will be there, to do whatever he wants to because he chose to do it.
A low exhale, and then he finds his smile again, far less strained than it was a few moments ago. ]
Right. Don't let me forget it, will you? [ He reaches a hand across the table to nudge Connor in the shoulder. ] Thanks, Conno.
[ Their social rank has leveled up, but the dumb nickname remains. ]
[Equal parts glad to have helped, and for the conversation to have moved on, Connor matches the grin given to him. His own body language drains of the smallest, barely-there signs of tension, simply content with having aided Prompto.]
It’s Connor, Prompto.
[The nickname sticks — will forever stick, it seems — but for some reason, the android doesn’t seem to mind.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
The only liquid that I can "drink" without issue is Thirium. It's the same chemical compound that exists in me now, acting as my blood — or so to speak. If I drank coffee, it would only be detrimental to my biocomponents. Think of it like pouring something similar into the gas tank of a car. I wasn’t created to digest it properly.
[It seems like Connor will facilitate the conversation down any road Prompto takes it, as he knows this is all mere preamble before they delve into the crux of the matter.]
It certainly wouldn't have the same effect on me as it does on you.
no subject
They's traveled to different worlds and worked alongside one another and against all odds, made it here with their memories intact. Prompto trusts him.
...It still isn't easy to broach. So much for keeping his knees still — it's like an earthquake under there. ]
Right, so. Uhh...about...y'know. What the game was talking about? My mark.
[ He begins, as he always does, from a distance. ]
D'you...d'you remember, back awhile, when I told you about the Empire? About how they...created their armies?
no subject
Connor's memory very rarely fails him, an android trait both a blessing and a curse. He nods, the conversation looping back to him as clear as day, even if it was literally worlds beyond them -- another time, another place.]
I do.
[It's his nature to draw up conclusions lightning-fast, created to parse every detail and towards what route it might lead. The flicker of his LED betrays that, but he's conscientious enough to let Prompto continue uninterrupted once he affirms his remembrance.]
Magitek Troopers. You said they were created by utilizing human lives.
no subject
[ And Connor can already probably see where this is going from a mile away. It's not like Prompto was super comfortable with the subject even then, when he wasn't revealing anything about himself, and he's not bringing it up again now when he is just for the Fun Facts About the Niflheim Empire Hour. So why is it so hard to keep talking?
Why is it so hard to even maintain eye contact? ]
So...yeah. I...I was supposed to be one of them. Wasn't, uh, obviously, but, I...
[ Sheepishly, he glances down and away, the fingers of his left hand closing over his right wrist once again. ]
— I'm sorry I didn't tell you before. If...anyone would get what it's like, it's you.
no subject
You don’t have to apologize for anything, Prompto. It isn’t information you’re obligated to give to anyone, even if you think they're trustworthy.
[Connor is trying to fathom the issue from a human perspective. In which they put value upon individuality, on each one being different from the rest, not ‘created’ like Prompto is telling him now. But Connor, impossible to detach him from his synthetic roots, cannot quite relate to he discomfort it might bring a young man like his friend before him.
But he can understand it from a purely logical standpoint, which might be all that the other needs.]
I’m of course glad you didn’t end up to be like them. But your origins… they’re definitely not as important as the life you currently lead now, your choices or experiences that you’ve already made.
[Connor leans forward a little, hands still laced together on the table.]
Where I’m from, back in Detroit, there are other RK800s like me. Set to standby in case— Well. In case something detrimental happens to my current body. But there, as they are, they’re not… [He pauses, trying to find the words, forever skirting a personal line he’s still uncomfortable with crossing, caught between that and wanting to offer some mode of comfort.] …they’re still not me. They don’t have just that: my memories and experiences. The knowledge gathered from my own personal path I’ve undertaken.
So maybe the question I should ask you — a sincere one, not criticizing, mind — is why does it matter if that’s where you’ve come from? You’re not a Magitek Trooper. You’re very much a human. I don’t think it’s anything to be especially ashamed of.
no subject
But it really is just that simple, isn't it? He's not a Magitek Trooper. He's human, and he's made something of his life. He's done his best, despite where he came from, despite his shortcomings. When Connor puts it so plainly like that, how could he possibly think otherwise?
It's elegant in its simplicity, and Prompto has to dip his head down and blink hard and fast against the tears that begin to build in his eyes. ]
It's all about how I choose to be, huh? [ He knows that. He's known that for some time. But the reassurance is still so important for him to hear, yet again, from a trusted friend.
A quiet moment passes, before Prompto at last looks up again, meeting Connor's gaze across the table. ]
It's all about how we choose to be.
[ Because that doesn't just apply to him. Connor, too. ]
no subject
It's all about how we choose to be.
Connor inhales even though he doesn't need the air, knowing the implication.]
...You've been given the choice to be who you want, Prompto. That's a precious opportunity, and one that you can't waste. All right?
[What's unspoken is still clear: Connor doesn't consider him quite in the same category. But he'll cheer Prompto on, as long and as much as he needs it.]
no subject
A low exhale, and then he finds his smile again, far less strained than it was a few moments ago. ]
Right. Don't let me forget it, will you? [ He reaches a hand across the table to nudge Connor in the shoulder. ] Thanks, Conno.
[ Their social rank has leveled up, but the dumb nickname remains. ]
no subject
It’s Connor, Prompto.
[The nickname sticks — will forever stick, it seems — but for some reason, the android doesn’t seem to mind.]
And don’t worry, I won’t.
[Won’t let him forget it.]