[Hank wants that. The room feels empty, still, emptier now than it did when Connor'd just come in, just Hank and Sumo and the furniture. Hank doesn't want to be alone with his own head, and he doesn't Connor to leave.
He closes his eyes while something dark and nasty eats away at him, makes it through into his voice, a little.]
I don't think I could take an android telling me all about the latest game and the weather. How about we talk about that stupid shit I posted earlier today, huh, the check in thing. You can tell me all the places I went wrong with that.
[Small talk, then. Small talk, even though it feels like when he speaks, Connor has to be heard through a layer of something else. A wall, or maybe a deep shadow where none of the light can get through.]
Where you went wrong? I thought it was a good idea; though maybe still in need of... figuring out the logistics, exactly, of how such a system will work.
But my reception to it as a whole wasn't negative. Not at all. Anything to facilitate safety is always welcome.
To you, maybe. People'll keep taking flying leaps off those cliffs no matter what I do. Don't even know what logistics this stupid fuckin place would even need, all these fuckin... this weird bullshit, how do you account for that? 's stupid, shouldn't of fuckin said anything. Should of just kept my mouth shut.
[He's not making any real arguments so much as muttering to himself, sullen and bitter and slow, his posture gradually sinking and settling there on the floor next to the foot of the bed.]
You androids'll 'facilitate safety' anyway, right? You guys know what you're doing.
As much as I can. As much as we can, from what I can gather from the other androids here.
[Even if they weren't CyberLife androids, it seemed like their directives were even more skewed to protecting humanity at all costs.]
Though you're making a false assumption, Lieutenant. [Actually, he pauses, looking over at Hank, not finishing this line of thought.] ...You should sit back down on your bed.
That people will take "flying leaps off those cliffs" no matter what you do. [His lips press thin, noticing how Hank is definitely not making any movement towards the bed.]
The fact that you've shown concern, and presented a solution, has put the idea in others' heads already. Sometimes simply knowing that someone worries for your well-being can affect, even if just slightly, reckless or impulsive inclinations.
[Even with his brain working at half - or maybe one quarter - capacity Hank can't help but tie that little factoid back to himself. It's not really worth it to try to figure out if Connor meant that to be a message to Hank or not, but the message is definitely there.]
That'd be nice, wouldn't it. Sounds like a nice world you live in, Connor.
[But not a real one. That doesn't really happen. Fuck, Connor might as well leave.]
Think I'll probably fall asleep soon so you can, uh, go back to- [He thinks briefly, reflexively, of saying something sarcastic here, some dig at the idea of androids having hobbies. It doesn't take him long to decide against it. He's too tired.] -you know, whatever. Thanks for the talk.
[Again, there'll be no clarity from Connor. Hank can take it as he will.]
...If you're sure. But if you need anything, please don't hesitate to contact me as always.
[He says this, but then he lingers. As if planted to the ground via a magnet, not wanting to leave just yet. Something left unfinished in the air, and a dearth of resolution will always settle unwell in Connor.
But eventually, he does go. The door closes with a soft click behind him.]
[Hank murmurs it, not really a reply so much as a breath, as something to say, and when he hears the door close it's a minute before he can stand to open his eyes and check. Once he does, it's a minute before he can close them again.
Then he sits there a while, listening to the quiet and watching the dark. The rest of that bottle earlier actually took him a way toward passing out; it's not that long before he falls asleep. Thank god.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[I mean, yes. He could. But apparently that’s not what Hank wants, which is admittedly not that surprising.]
We can talk about something else. Anything else. A distraction, until you feel like you can sleep.
[Something that isn’t drinking nor steeped in dark thoughts.]
no subject
[Hank wants that. The room feels empty, still, emptier now than it did when Connor'd just come in, just Hank and Sumo and the furniture. Hank doesn't want to be alone with his own head, and he doesn't Connor to leave.
He closes his eyes while something dark and nasty eats away at him, makes it through into his voice, a little.]
I don't think I could take an android telling me all about the latest game and the weather. How about we talk about that stupid shit I posted earlier today, huh, the check in thing. You can tell me all the places I went wrong with that.
no subject
Where you went wrong? I thought it was a good idea; though maybe still in need of... figuring out the logistics, exactly, of how such a system will work.
But my reception to it as a whole wasn't negative. Not at all. Anything to facilitate safety is always welcome.
no subject
[He's not making any real arguments so much as muttering to himself, sullen and bitter and slow, his posture gradually sinking and settling there on the floor next to the foot of the bed.]
You androids'll 'facilitate safety' anyway, right? You guys know what you're doing.
no subject
[Even if they weren't CyberLife androids, it seemed like their directives were even more skewed to protecting humanity at all costs.]
Though you're making a false assumption, Lieutenant. [Actually, he pauses, looking over at Hank, not finishing this line of thought.] ...You should sit back down on your bed.
no subject
[He watches the dark on the inside of his eyelids for a second, kind of halfheartedly trying to follow Connor's sentence there, then sighs.]
Fuck it. Jus' tell me. What'd I get wrong this time?
no subject
The fact that you've shown concern, and presented a solution, has put the idea in others' heads already. Sometimes simply knowing that someone worries for your well-being can affect, even if just slightly, reckless or impulsive inclinations.
no subject
[Even with his brain working at half - or maybe one quarter - capacity Hank can't help but tie that little factoid back to himself. It's not really worth it to try to figure out if Connor meant that to be a message to Hank or not, but the message is definitely there.]
That'd be nice, wouldn't it. Sounds like a nice world you live in, Connor.
[But not a real one. That doesn't really happen. Fuck, Connor might as well leave.]
Think I'll probably fall asleep soon so you can, uh, go back to- [He thinks briefly, reflexively, of saying something sarcastic here, some dig at the idea of androids having hobbies. It doesn't take him long to decide against it. He's too tired.] -you know, whatever. Thanks for the talk.
no subject
...If you're sure. But if you need anything, please don't hesitate to contact me as always.
[He says this, but then he lingers. As if planted to the ground via a magnet, not wanting to leave just yet. Something left unfinished in the air, and a dearth of resolution will always settle unwell in Connor.
But eventually, he does go. The door closes with a soft click behind him.]
no subject
[Hank murmurs it, not really a reply so much as a breath, as something to say, and when he hears the door close it's a minute before he can stand to open his eyes and check. Once he does, it's a minute before he can close them again.
Then he sits there a while, listening to the quiet and watching the dark. The rest of that bottle earlier actually took him a way toward passing out; it's not that long before he falls asleep. Thank god.]