bleps: (147)
ᴍʏ ɴᴀᴍᴇ ɪs Cᴏɴɴᴏʀ ▲ ʀᴋ800 ([personal profile] bleps) wrote 2018-09-15 11:03 pm (UTC)

[His LED flickers a bright yellow again, and Hank is frustratingly treading into that territory of conversation that he has nicely cordoned off for himself.

You've only ever done what you're programmed to, and Connor shakes his head. No, he hasn't. He can list of examples of such, times and decisions regarding the safety of the Lieutenant, of escaping deviants, that generally go against the cut-and-dry parameters of his processing. Most of it can be reasoned away easily, of course, but some of it-

No time for those thoughts, no time to let Hank try to turn this into an argument. Those errors that crawl and worm their way around some partitioned corner of his mind don't deserve the spotlight, and so Connor just reaches out and snaps his fingers in front of Hank's face.]


Hank. Look at me.

[Blatantly ignoring the question, go.]

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