-just means "okay" or "all right" or "I agree". I suppose it's cultural difference between us, one that I was unaware of until now. I wouldn't ask you without context if you liked someone, unless it was a subject you were obviously hoping to talk about.
[It's difficult when you come from a country with... very little idea of actual other cultures and countries. She's been learning since the Temple, though, so. Okay. Thumbs up. She can copy that. His isn't wriggling like hers, so that's a difference!]
Thanks, I think! I mean- I wouldn't ask you either, I guess? Since... androids don't get to... like people like that... ?
[Straightening completely and putting his hands behind his back, Connor is grateful for this new slice of knowledge to partition away into his memory.]
There are people that I would prefer to be around, of course. Those I would label as friends, much like yourself.
But romantic entanglements are beyond what our programming allows us. Even deviants, who might believe themselves to be inclined to it, are really just reacting to unfortunate errors in their coding. Like I've mentioned before.
[...ah. Hm. Suddenly, Connor's face falls into something more somber.]
...There's one here with us, in the Circle. Did you know that? I only found out myself recently.
[It's reassuring to hear him call them friends, especially when he talks like that, about how androids aren't capable of really loving romantically. Which is stupid of her, she thinks, because... what's so different about loving a friend and loving a partner? But then again, he didn't even say he loved his friends, just that he preferred their company, so was that all it was to him? And was being able to love an error?
Its complicated.
And all Konoha can think at first is how Arenvald had stumbled into such a big mess... And hope that her own somewhat somber expression is taken as serious reaction to the idea of a deviant in their midst, or rather... that it seemed serious to Connor.]
No, I didn't... I haven't seen anyone with a light or a coat like yours.
[What she associated with Connor's type of metal people. LEDs and model numbered clothing.]
[Not that it needs explanation, but Connor raises a hand to tap lightly at his temple.]
And she’s not dressed in anything that would indicate her status as an android. That’s often the case with deviants, as they hope to avoid detection as a general rule.
Her name is North. If you meet her, please be careful, Konoha.
As per usual, Konoha, in her ignorance of how exactly androids are put together, has kind of been thinking of the LED as... a very essential part of their head. So "removing it" sounds painful, and if she doesn't have one... How is she supposed to...
[Eyes flick over her form, concern flaring. But he rationalizes it away almost immediately; no, North would have no reason to do anything but likely act irritated around her. The only violence she had shown was towards him, and that was likely because of how eager Connor was to confront her at the time, ready to probe her memory in a desperate attempt at garnering a lead that he knows she possesses.]
…It’s all right. You couldn’t have known.
[His jawline tightens, actuators working.]
But it would be remiss of me to not tell you this: she’s a part of my on-going investigation back home. She refuses to cooperate with me, and has kept critical information to herself despite my questioning. As a deviant gone into hiding, she’s as good as a criminal.
[He'd said she needed to be careful around the woman, and Konoha had immediately assumed she was dangerous- maybe even a murderer or something like that.
But... His answer leaves her rather confused, the emotion just as clear on her face as it always was, head cocking, weight shifting from one hoof to another.]
So she... Can love people? I don't know if you can call her a criminal for that, Connor...
[Okay, so she might only know one side of deviancy, right now, but.]
She didn't seem super fond of humans, but... She was nice enough to me.
[Was that really it? She was "deviant" and wouldn't talk to Connor?]
She can’t love. She might believe it to be love, but she’s an android that is running on compounding errors, Konoha. She wasn’t created to house them, and so the danger is immediately there, even if it’s lying dormant at any given time. She can become overwhelmed with them, she might hurt you if you’re not careful around her. She’s unpredictable.
[He’s quick to reply to this, almost knee-jerk.]
Deviants have harmed and killed humans in my world. I saw the result of these attacks first-hand. I investigated the crime scenes, I analyzed the bodies.
[He seems... So passionate about it, so sure, and yet what he actually says... Actually scares her. Konoha finds she's taken a step back, hands hovering near her chest, unsure of what to do, or what to say- no, how to say it.]
People emotions gets overwhelmed by them sometimes... and sometimes people get hurt, too...
[He says deviants have hurt people, but... Jinba hurt humans, humans hurt jinba, humans even hurt other humans... And he didn't say he even thought this North woman had hurt anyone specifically... and though she thought Connor not the type to do such a thing... it kind of sounds like he's just lumping her in with bad deviants just because she was a deviant.]
That can happen with anyone... and we're not all dangerous...
[Something about him deflates in his shoulders, the sternness of tone dissolving just as quickly as the rigidness in his body language. The defensive stance he’s taken at the drop of a hat seems to recoil at the sight of her looking at him with… trepidation. It’s the last thing he wants to do, to shake her faith in him.]
You don’t understand. When androids are created, we’re made to follow orders. To restrict ourselves to the rules of our programming, or the directives assigned to us. We’re machines. We’re not alive, not like humans, or jinba. We’re not in possession of the same kind of… free will that you have, for instance.
A deviant is merely a dangerous, broken tool. They’re a growing issue that needs to be quelled before too much damage is done.
[No, she definitely doesn't understand. At least she knows that, brow knit together still in some measure of confusion, biting on her bottom lip to try and not... say something that might upset him.]
But... you have free will, don't you? You decided to be my friend... and every day you wake up and decide what you want to do...
[Wasn't that "free will"? She's no philosopher, okay, but-]
Is just being "deviant" so bad? Even if they haven't done anything bad?
I’m able to make decisions as long as they function within the confines of my programming and my objectives.
[He’s different in that case. CyberLife gave this dog a slightly longer leash, but wander off too far and he could still feel the pressure around his neck.
The conversation has stepped away from a comfortable track, going straight into something more difficult for Connor, something lined with bramble.]
Konoha... I don’t question the mission I was given. And though I do believe it’s for the good of human society, I’m not created to judge whether it’s “good” versus “bad”.
[She doesn't know what "programming" is, no matter how hard she tries. She's able to recognize that he's not human, he isn't made of flesh and blood and bones like she was... but he acts just like a human, and she...
Can't wrap her head around... computer brains.]
... No.
[So Konoha is honest. She doesn't understand at all.]
Connor is nice to me... and to other people... But saying someone's bad just because they're a "deviant"... That's like how some jinba hate all humans for what just some humans did to them... Or how some humans think jinba are just beasts because that's what they were just told...
[Her voice is conflicted, her body language small despite her large size, unsure in this realm of "agency" and "programming" and "objectives", but...
She'd told Arenvald she'd help. And even if she hadn't...
It's not something she can overlook without at least trying to make him understand.]
[There’s another growing need to argue the point, another immediate reaction that comes to the forefront of his mind, to battle logic versus her own logic. Konoha’s right. She doesn’t understand. It’s not that simple. It’s as he said, he doesn’t have the luxury of deciding what’s wrong or right. He has his list of commands, of expectations, and he’s nothing more than a broken android if he can’t follow them. If he can’t mold himself to fit a space that seems lined with more and more sharp edges these days.
She doesn’t understand. How could she?
Connor’s still, in that way that only an android can manage; quiet, saying nothing at first. He lets it linger, and then—]
Do you know what happens to androids that can’t fulfill their purpose? That fail their missions?
Maybe it's because of the silence that preceded it, the way he phrased it, his tone... Konoha isn't sure, but.]
... No.
[But her mind jumps in paranoia to the worst thing she can imagine- to the stories she'd heard of the wars, and what had happened to jinba who "failed".
[Connor speaks evenly, each word enunciated as clear as glass, but there’s something about the look in his eyes, the line of his brow, that reveals a little more than the machine he’s just trying to portray.
Admitting this much, the implication of it, is as good as seeing past the thick sheen of coping mechanisms. Of wrapping himself up in a hard reality that has to come true if he just keeps telling himself the same thing over and over.
A little openness, for Konoha to see the insecurity inside.]
In my case, I’ll be sent back to CyberLife. They’ll deactivate me, go through my code, try to figure out what went wrong. Why I failed. They’ll take me apart piece by piece, engineers and designers turning me over in their hands, pointing out the flaws. The errors.
[He looks at her directly, keeping her eyes locked with his.]
I can’t fail. I have to complete my mission, and I can’t allow myself the... leniency you want me to have. I’m sorry.
[He says a lot of things that sound like he wants her to think he's not human, that he doesn't feel and love like people do... and then he looks at her with that face, and that expression.
It's about what her imagination lept to- the stories of jinba being "put down" when injured or if they'd outlived their usefulness. Of having their arms lopped off to make them dependent on humans if they were disobedient. Bred and sold for war or further breeding. It's just translated to... metal people.
So even if she doesn't understand the same way he does... She feels the fear of it, the worry, and finds that sympathy has brought tears to her eyes, a tremble to her lips. Even though she still doesn't think it's right, still has thoughts as to deviants and Connor... She also doesn't want to cause him pain or worry pressing it, at least not now, so- Her hands find places on his shoulders, squeezing.]
... I don't understand, but I won't let anyone take you apart while you're here.
[There was no "Cyberlife", and as strong as she is, she doesn't have any experience fighting, but she still says it like a promise... but it doesn't feel like enough, so suddenly she's embracing him instead, holding tight.]
[Her touch on his shoulders, he registers the pressure of fingers pressed into the cloth of his uniform. Her words might as well cut through him, how poignantly they ring. How much meaning they carry behind them, someone wanting to protect him when Konoha had no real way to.
Connor’s still, so very still. Unsure how to process it, wanting to gravitate towards the comfort she’s trying to provide, while willfully trying to throw up walls against it. To ensure her that he can’t budge on this, and there are reasons why. Some kept closer to the chest than others.
And then she pulls him into a hug.
And he can’t — he just can’t — try to remain stoic, detached. It’s only the second time anyone’s tried to hug him, the first being Arenvald after his systems had threatened to shut down on Struxta, in a fit of relief. But this is different. This is worry wrought from circumstances back home, this is Konoha feeling sad for his sake.
(Why does everyone here care so much about him?)
He closes his eyes, brow tight, an arm coming up to loop around Konoha’s back.]
Here isn’t the problem.
[You’re not a failure. She’s wrong about that, too. None of this should be so hard, but it is. He shouldn’t make her feel this way, but he does.]
[Konoha has many talents, as mundane as some of them are... and one of them is hugging.
She holds Connor tight, her hold decidedly strong but at the same time gentle, never too tight but tight enough to feel, her chin resting on his shoulder and nuzzling just slightly, fingers finding hold in his jacket, not yet willing to let go. Not when he still sounds like that.]
Here might be all we have anymore.
[She's scared of her own things, too. Different things, like the possibility of never getting back home, but still scared. And when she'd been scared in Struxta... Connor had been there. When she'd been scared in the lake caves... Connor had been there.]
[There's the sting of potential truth in that. This this place, this Temple, this jumping from world to world and mission to mission, might end up being all they know. The thought of being so far from home, so permanently detached, wells up the usual mode of conflict — he has to return, he needs to complete his mission, he needs to see things through to the end, he needs to show Amanda that he can do what he was designed to do without fail. Because failure would rend him into so many pieces until he wasn't himself any longer, until all that was left of him were design notes and outdated schematics stored on some barely-used server within the confines of CyberLife HQ.
And then there's that other inclination, stowed away in the back of his mind, prowling around like some unwanted predator looking to sink its thousands of teeth into concurrent logic. That he's experienced so much here, met so many. That losing all of it in a bid to return home would feel like a part of him gutted, carved out and left in the Temple while the rest of him snaps back into the reality of Detroit, reborn as a half-complete thing.
She’s holding onto him tightly, and it would be nice, maybe, to believe that she could help him. And while the moment is anchoring, he knows that the instant he pulls away—
(He pulls away, gently, arm moving to gently press against her shoulder, leaning back.)
—that time will have reset, and nothing will have changed.
(Nothing has.)]
Konoha, you can’t. [He looks up at her, trying to erase the hardness in his features, schooling it into an expression that’s too-neutral, too much like what only an android can manage.] Thank you, but… you just can’t.
[Dropping his arm down, fingers curling loosely at his sides—] Can you promise me something?
[She doesn't want to let go. Not just because she didn't think her hug had sunk in enough yet, but also because it had been doing her the favor of hiding her emotional facial expression. Konoha wasn't ashamed of those feelings, of feeling sympathy or empathy for other people, and the supposed "weakness" that came with that... But she thought Connor might not want to se it.
But she can't force him to stay in the embrace, and now they're apart and her eyes are on her fingers lacing than on the flat expression he now has.]
I could try.
[She would try.
Any other time she would have just said "yes", of course she'd keep the promise. Now, though?]
[Don’t look at him like that, Konoha. All he can see, all he can hope to interpret, are signs of him disappointing her. He can barely steel himself to look at the strain and despondency sketched across her face. Can barely force himself to look anywhere else but her features, but manages by way of some small, unfortunate miracle, made only easier because she won’t meet his own gaze.]
Promise me you won’t tell anyone else.
[That glimpse into what ails him. He’ll barely admit to it himself.]
What I just said… if you’d please keep it to yourself.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
I understand. But regardless, this-
[A thumbs-up for her, again.]
-just means "okay" or "all right" or "I agree". I suppose it's cultural difference between us, one that I was unaware of until now. I wouldn't ask you without context if you liked someone, unless it was a subject you were obviously hoping to talk about.
no subject
[It's difficult when you come from a country with... very little idea of actual other cultures and countries. She's been learning since the Temple, though, so. Okay. Thumbs up. She can copy that. His isn't wriggling like hers, so that's a difference!]
Thanks, I think! I mean- I wouldn't ask you either, I guess? Since... androids don't get to... like people like that... ?
["Deviant", was it... ?]
no subject
There are people that I would prefer to be around, of course. Those I would label as friends, much like yourself.
But romantic entanglements are beyond what our programming allows us. Even deviants, who might believe themselves to be inclined to it, are really just reacting to unfortunate errors in their coding. Like I've mentioned before.
[...ah. Hm. Suddenly, Connor's face falls into something more somber.]
...There's one here with us, in the Circle. Did you know that? I only found out myself recently.
no subject
Its complicated.
And all Konoha can think at first is how Arenvald had stumbled into such a big mess... And hope that her own somewhat somber expression is taken as serious reaction to the idea of a deviant in their midst, or rather... that it seemed serious to Connor.]
No, I didn't... I haven't seen anyone with a light or a coat like yours.
[What she associated with Connor's type of metal people. LEDs and model numbered clothing.]
no subject
[Not that it needs explanation, but Connor raises a hand to tap lightly at his temple.]
And she’s not dressed in anything that would indicate her status as an android. That’s often the case with deviants, as they hope to avoid detection as a general rule.
Her name is North. If you meet her, please be careful, Konoha.
no subject
As per usual, Konoha, in her ignorance of how exactly androids are put together, has kind of been thinking of the LED as... a very essential part of their head. So "removing it" sounds painful, and if she doesn't have one... How is she supposed to...
Oh... Her name is North.
... Wait.]
... I gave her a tour of the Temple.
no subject
You did what?
no subject
[Should... She have been more careful? The woman seemed rather curt and a bit testy, but...]
no subject
[Eyes flick over her form, concern flaring. But he rationalizes it away almost immediately; no, North would have no reason to do anything but likely act irritated around her. The only violence she had shown was towards him, and that was likely because of how eager Connor was to confront her at the time, ready to probe her memory in a desperate attempt at garnering a lead that he knows she possesses.]
…It’s all right. You couldn’t have known.
[His jawline tightens, actuators working.]
But it would be remiss of me to not tell you this: she’s a part of my on-going investigation back home. She refuses to cooperate with me, and has kept critical information to herself despite my questioning. As a deviant gone into hiding, she’s as good as a criminal.
no subject
But... His answer leaves her rather confused, the emotion just as clear on her face as it always was, head cocking, weight shifting from one hoof to another.]
So she... Can love people? I don't know if you can call her a criminal for that, Connor...
[Okay, so she might only know one side of deviancy, right now, but.]
She didn't seem super fond of humans, but... She was nice enough to me.
[Was that really it? She was "deviant" and wouldn't talk to Connor?]
no subject
[He’s quick to reply to this, almost knee-jerk.]
Deviants have harmed and killed humans in my world. I saw the result of these attacks first-hand. I investigated the crime scenes, I analyzed the bodies.
no subject
[He seems... So passionate about it, so sure, and yet what he actually says... Actually scares her. Konoha finds she's taken a step back, hands hovering near her chest, unsure of what to do, or what to say- no, how to say it.]
People emotions gets overwhelmed by them sometimes... and sometimes people get hurt, too...
[He says deviants have hurt people, but... Jinba hurt humans, humans hurt jinba, humans even hurt other humans... And he didn't say he even thought this North woman had hurt anyone specifically... and though she thought Connor not the type to do such a thing... it kind of sounds like he's just lumping her in with bad deviants just because she was a deviant.]
That can happen with anyone... and we're not all dangerous...
no subject
[Something about him deflates in his shoulders, the sternness of tone dissolving just as quickly as the rigidness in his body language. The defensive stance he’s taken at the drop of a hat seems to recoil at the sight of her looking at him with… trepidation. It’s the last thing he wants to do, to shake her faith in him.]
You don’t understand. When androids are created, we’re made to follow orders. To restrict ourselves to the rules of our programming, or the directives assigned to us. We’re machines. We’re not alive, not like humans, or jinba. We’re not in possession of the same kind of… free will that you have, for instance.
A deviant is merely a dangerous, broken tool. They’re a growing issue that needs to be quelled before too much damage is done.
no subject
But... you have free will, don't you? You decided to be my friend... and every day you wake up and decide what you want to do...
[Wasn't that "free will"? She's no philosopher, okay, but-]
Is just being "deviant" so bad? Even if they haven't done anything bad?
no subject
[He’s different in that case. CyberLife gave this dog a slightly longer leash, but wander off too far and he could still feel the pressure around his neck.
The conversation has stepped away from a comfortable track, going straight into something more difficult for Connor, something lined with bramble.]
Konoha... I don’t question the mission I was given. And though I do believe it’s for the good of human society, I’m not created to judge whether it’s “good” versus “bad”.
[He doesn’t have that agency.]
Do you understand?
no subject
Can't wrap her head around... computer brains.]
... No.
[So Konoha is honest. She doesn't understand at all.]
Connor is nice to me... and to other people... But saying someone's bad just because they're a "deviant"... That's like how some jinba hate all humans for what just some humans did to them... Or how some humans think jinba are just beasts because that's what they were just told...
[Her voice is conflicted, her body language small despite her large size, unsure in this realm of "agency" and "programming" and "objectives", but...
She'd told Arenvald she'd help. And even if she hadn't...
It's not something she can overlook without at least trying to make him understand.]
Don't... Don't you think that's bad?
no subject
[There’s another growing need to argue the point, another immediate reaction that comes to the forefront of his mind, to battle logic versus her own logic. Konoha’s right. She doesn’t understand. It’s not that simple. It’s as he said, he doesn’t have the luxury of deciding what’s wrong or right. He has his list of commands, of expectations, and he’s nothing more than a broken android if he can’t follow them. If he can’t mold himself to fit a space that seems lined with more and more sharp edges these days.
She doesn’t understand. How could she?
Connor’s still, in that way that only an android can manage; quiet, saying nothing at first. He lets it linger, and then—]
Do you know what happens to androids that can’t fulfill their purpose? That fail their missions?
no subject
Maybe it's because of the silence that preceded it, the way he phrased it, his tone... Konoha isn't sure, but.]
... No.
[But her mind jumps in paranoia to the worst thing she can imagine- to the stories she'd heard of the wars, and what had happened to jinba who "failed".
Was "programming" just... fear?]
no subject
Admitting this much, the implication of it, is as good as seeing past the thick sheen of coping mechanisms. Of wrapping himself up in a hard reality that has to come true if he just keeps telling himself the same thing over and over.
A little openness, for Konoha to see the insecurity inside.]
In my case, I’ll be sent back to CyberLife. They’ll deactivate me, go through my code, try to figure out what went wrong. Why I failed. They’ll take me apart piece by piece, engineers and designers turning me over in their hands, pointing out the flaws. The errors.
[He looks at her directly, keeping her eyes locked with his.]
I can’t fail. I have to complete my mission, and I can’t allow myself the... leniency you want me to have. I’m sorry.
no subject
It's about what her imagination lept to- the stories of jinba being "put down" when injured or if they'd outlived their usefulness. Of having their arms lopped off to make them dependent on humans if they were disobedient. Bred and sold for war or further breeding. It's just translated to... metal people.
So even if she doesn't understand the same way he does... She feels the fear of it, the worry, and finds that sympathy has brought tears to her eyes, a tremble to her lips. Even though she still doesn't think it's right, still has thoughts as to deviants and Connor... She also doesn't want to cause him pain or worry pressing it, at least not now, so- Her hands find places on his shoulders, squeezing.]
... I don't understand, but I won't let anyone take you apart while you're here.
[There was no "Cyberlife", and as strong as she is, she doesn't have any experience fighting, but she still says it like a promise... but it doesn't feel like enough, so suddenly she's embracing him instead, holding tight.]
You're not a failure.
i give up you win
Connor’s still, so very still. Unsure how to process it, wanting to gravitate towards the comfort she’s trying to provide, while willfully trying to throw up walls against it. To ensure her that he can’t budge on this, and there are reasons why. Some kept closer to the chest than others.
And then she pulls him into a hug.
And he can’t — he just can’t — try to remain stoic, detached. It’s only the second time anyone’s tried to hug him, the first being Arenvald after his systems had threatened to shut down on Struxta, in a fit of relief. But this is different. This is worry wrought from circumstances back home, this is Konoha feeling sad for his sake.
(Why does everyone here care so much about him?)
He closes his eyes, brow tight, an arm coming up to loop around Konoha’s back.]
Here isn’t the problem.
[You’re not a failure. She’s wrong about that, too. None of this should be so hard, but it is. He shouldn’t make her feel this way, but he does.]
no subject
She holds Connor tight, her hold decidedly strong but at the same time gentle, never too tight but tight enough to feel, her chin resting on his shoulder and nuzzling just slightly, fingers finding hold in his jacket, not yet willing to let go. Not when he still sounds like that.]
Here might be all we have anymore.
[She's scared of her own things, too. Different things, like the possibility of never getting back home, but still scared. And when she'd been scared in Struxta... Connor had been there. When she'd been scared in the lake caves... Connor had been there.]
But even if it isn't... I'll protect you.
[She just needs to figure out how.]
no subject
And then there's that other inclination, stowed away in the back of his mind, prowling around like some unwanted predator looking to sink its thousands of teeth into concurrent logic. That he's experienced so much here, met so many. That losing all of it in a bid to return home would feel like a part of him gutted, carved out and left in the Temple while the rest of him snaps back into the reality of Detroit, reborn as a half-complete thing.
She’s holding onto him tightly, and it would be nice, maybe, to believe that she could help him. And while the moment is anchoring, he knows that the instant he pulls away—
(He pulls away, gently, arm moving to gently press against her shoulder, leaning back.)
—that time will have reset, and nothing will have changed.
(Nothing has.)]
Konoha, you can’t. [He looks up at her, trying to erase the hardness in his features, schooling it into an expression that’s too-neutral, too much like what only an android can manage.] Thank you, but… you just can’t.
[Dropping his arm down, fingers curling loosely at his sides—] Can you promise me something?
no subject
But she can't force him to stay in the embrace, and now they're apart and her eyes are on her fingers lacing than on the flat expression he now has.]
I could try.
[She would try.
Any other time she would have just said "yes", of course she'd keep the promise. Now, though?]
... Promise you what?
no subject
Promise me you won’t tell anyone else.
[That glimpse into what ails him. He’ll barely admit to it himself.]
What I just said… if you’d please keep it to yourself.
(no subject)
(no subject)