[And he truly is, the part about losing family. Connor doesn't like dredging up difficult topics unknowingly; it makes him feel oblivious, awkward, and terrible at his own job -- which is to read people.
But moreover, there's a sense of something else. A sort of simply wishing that someone he calls a friend wouldn't have to experience that kind of loss. Detrimental no matter how one looked at it.]
I don't doubt what you're telling me, but listen to yourself. Your DNA might have kept you resilient in your own home, but that obviously isn't the case here.
[ he says it benignly, soothingly — like a big brother trying to ease your nerves. and then... ]
Everyone dies...that's just a part of life.
[ nier takes pause. ]
I see. I should find the source. I don't want this to spread.
You don't have to worry about me, Connor. I promise. Even if something happens, I'll... [ a cough. ] be okay. I'd like it if you took care of yourself, though...that would make me happy.
[A part of life? That is indisputable, he knows that. But Connor doesn’t think that makes it any easier; not in his own limited experience with humans. With his own friend back home, he knows how badly such a thing can resonate within a person, leading them down an apathetic path.
But he drops that line of thinking, leaving that branch of the conversation in the dust. His main concern is Nier’s health, and he’s just as stubborn as him.]
I’m doing fine. I’m an android, too, remember? If there’s something strange floating around, there’s a high chance that I’m immune from it. And if there’s a chance of you feeling unwell, you need to not push yourself.
My current stress levels are baseline at the moment. Please don’t concern yourself with it.
[The sigh, as frustrated as it is, is viewed as a very tiny victory on his part.]
I would like to visit you. If you have the time for it — I’ve been meaning to, actually, since we’ve returned. The last mission was less than kind to most us, after all, and it's only polite for me to do so.
You don't have to do anything, Connor. But I won't object to seeing you either.
[ a sigh. ]
If you're going to go through the trouble of visiting, can you tell me what kind of food you like? I know androids don't have to eat, but it would be nice to cook you something.
It would be a wasted effort, I'm sorry to say. I don't need to eat because I lack the ability to digest food. Unless you can whip up some Thirium for me, I'd rather you not waste the ingredients.
[He supposes he can allow that much, if Nier really wants to do something. After all, if he's going to rest (LIKE HE SHOULD), he'll have to find something low-energy to do, to pass the time.]
Ten minutes. I'll see you then.
[And so he will! Ten minutes pass and Connor will swing by for a visit, announcing his presence with even knocks on Nier's door.]
you see, nier has never done anything remotely low energy in his life.
ten minutes means ten minutes to run outside, gather some of the few remaining flowers in the perimeter, bolt back to his room and start weaving together. okay. that's manageable. ]
Come in.
[ this means that when connor enters, he will find nier somewhat disheveled, a small bracelet in his hands — it's a few small, baby blossoms twined together to make a bracelet.
he motions it towards him. ]
This is for you. I did it— [ he pauses to swallow down a cough. ] ...a little quickly, so if it isn't to your liking, tell me.
[It's not like he expects Nier to have been in a completely unruffled state. This is the sort of individual who continues as per normal, even if he's sick -- Connor half expects him to look a little disheveled on this logic alone.
But this is a level that's indicative of physical activity in the past few minutes, and Connor's LED flickers with a suspicious kind of consideration. Even if he steps forward and eyes the bracelet, offering his wrist in kind.]
Did you just make this now? [He schools his tone to not sound ungrateful (because he isn't), but his eyes flick upwards to take in the details of Nier's person. Dirt on his fingertips, flower petals gone astray, grass stuck in his clothing -- anything, really.]
[Something that sounds like an exhale wrapped up in exasperation, subtle as it might be. With the flowers neatly encircling his wrist now, he takes his hand back, and reaches out to pluck a wilting leaf from Nier's hair.
He shows it to him, clenched between forefinger and thumb, the damning evidence that it is.]
[ absently, his eyes flicker up. the bags underneath his eyes are somehow accentuated by this movement — or maybe it's look on his face, sullen with the exhaustion of being alive. ]
Whether or not I live doesn't matter. I've already fulfilled my purpose. It's okay.
[He can't hide the downward tug of his frown, growing even deeper at the wording he's chosen. Purpose. Ringing poignant in his own head, a term that he's turned over and over again, both to himself and declared to others.]
That's something a machine should say -- not a human. [He's quick to correct, if only because there's something off-putting about how easily Nier can admit to that.] What purpose was it that you think defines you so prevalently?
[His sister. Via habit, Connor’s eyes track downwards to the fine contour of Nier’s weapon, thinking the gesture a strange correlation between what’s being said and what is being shown. But perhaps, if he leans on assumption, it’s not as large of a leap as he thinks. Protecting someone and the imagery of a finely-edged blade could go hand-in-hand, though it makes Connor want to question the circumstances.
It’s obvious how he takes a moment to formulate a response, one that will both cast a wide net for information, as well as quietly persuade him. The way he figuratively side-steps around the latter part is just as plain.]
Not that I can understand your own circumstances based on so little information, but wouldn’t your sister want for you to be in good health? “Regular human” or otherwise.
[ he blinks. for a moment, he wants to laugh — it's funny, and terribly pure, but ultimately futile. it reminds him of himself. of the innocence he'll never know again.
he does not laugh. instead he stares, blankly, lips furling into an incredibly small smile, like the blooming bud of a flower. ]
She doesn't remember who I am. She doesn't even know that I exist.
[ something ebbs in the sea of his eyes. a quiet, deep sorrow. ]
You're a very kind person, Connor. Thank you. For trying.
[He shakes his head.] I simply want to do what I can to help. To facilitate the success of this group overall.
[Sadness in his eyes, Connor notes. A flicker of something so small that it might have been missed by someone less observant.]
I'm... sorry to hear about your sister, though. If you don't wish to talk about it, that's fine. [Propriety overrides curiosity in this case, though the option is purposefully left open.] But would you be willing to take the wishes of others into consideration?
[ he doesn't perceive it as an opening — it's best to avert the prospect of burdening someone else. he runs his fingers through his own hair for a moment. ]
...Maybe.
[ he knows where he's going with this. it's difficult to repress a smile. ]
[Connor's lips press thin. For someone less willing to be helpful, that's being sequestered into a corner quite quickly, a promise to think of himself in a way that he simply isn't used to considering.
But some part of Connor, maybe a section of his programming that's hard for him to pin down, finds he can make this promise if it means Nier's going to be less stubborn about all of this. The man needs his rest. Connor owes him a debt, and this is part of how he intends to fulfill it -- to make sure that he recovers if he really is getting sick.]
I think that's a fair compromise. Besides, I doubt I'm the only one here who would be making this request of you, if they knew.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[He can turn that argument around, or so he thinks!]
You've never been sick before?
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[ why the hell is he laughing— ]
I'm glad that we're friends.
[ he is most definitely sick.
his voice lowers, however — there's an adjustment in gravity here. ]
My mother died due to illness, and my little sister was ill herself.
In the 21 years I lived, I hadn't caught anything.
[ ... ]
It's in my DNA. That's what the androids I knew told me.
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[And he truly is, the part about losing family. Connor doesn't like dredging up difficult topics unknowingly; it makes him feel oblivious, awkward, and terrible at his own job -- which is to read people.
But moreover, there's a sense of something else. A sort of simply wishing that someone he calls a friend wouldn't have to experience that kind of loss. Detrimental no matter how one looked at it.]
I don't doubt what you're telling me, but listen to yourself. Your DNA might have kept you resilient in your own home, but that obviously isn't the case here.
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[ he says it benignly, soothingly — like a big brother trying to ease your nerves. and then... ]
Everyone dies...that's just a part of life.
[ nier takes pause. ]
I see. I should find the source. I don't want this to spread.
You don't have to worry about me, Connor. I promise. Even if something happens, I'll... [ a cough. ] be okay. I'd like it if you took care of yourself, though...that would make me happy.
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But he drops that line of thinking, leaving that branch of the conversation in the dust. His main concern is Nier’s health, and he’s just as stubborn as him.]
I’m doing fine. I’m an android, too, remember? If there’s something strange floating around, there’s a high chance that I’m immune from it. And if there’s a chance of you feeling unwell, you need to not push yourself.
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[ he heaves a sigh. a burst of frustration at and with his own weakness. nothing new. ]
What can I do to make you stop worrying? Not that it bothers me...I just don't want to stress you, Connor.
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[The sigh, as frustrated as it is, is viewed as a very tiny victory on his part.]
I would like to visit you. If you have the time for it — I’ve been meaning to, actually, since we’ve returned. The last mission was less than kind to most us, after all, and it's only polite for me to do so.
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[ a sigh. ]
If you're going to go through the trouble of visiting, can you tell me what kind of food you like? I know androids don't have to eat, but it would be nice to cook you something.
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It would be a wasted effort, I'm sorry to say. I don't need to eat because I lack the ability to digest food. Unless you can whip up some Thirium for me, I'd rather you not waste the ingredients.
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[ damn androids and their...differing digestive systems... ]
Well, I'll just have to make you something else then. It won't be food. And I can't knit you anything because of the heat...
Give me 10 minutes. And then you can come to my room, okay?
action??? if you wanted to play this out!
[He supposes he can allow that much, if Nier really wants to do something. After all, if he's going to rest (LIKE HE SHOULD), he'll have to find something low-energy to do, to pass the time.]
Ten minutes. I'll see you then.
[And so he will! Ten minutes pass and Connor will swing by for a visit, announcing his presence with even knocks on Nier's door.]
yes, action always!
you see, nier has never done anything remotely low energy in his life.
ten minutes means ten minutes to run outside, gather some of the few remaining flowers in the perimeter, bolt back to his room and start weaving together. okay. that's manageable. ]
Come in.
[ this means that when connor enters, he will find nier somewhat disheveled, a small bracelet in his hands — it's a few small, baby blossoms twined together to make a bracelet.
he motions it towards him. ]
This is for you. I did it— [ he pauses to swallow down a cough. ] ...a little quickly, so if it isn't to your liking, tell me.
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But this is a level that's indicative of physical activity in the past few minutes, and Connor's LED flickers with a suspicious kind of consideration. Even if he steps forward and eyes the bracelet, offering his wrist in kind.]
Did you just make this now? [He schools his tone to not sound ungrateful (because he isn't), but his eyes flick upwards to take in the details of Nier's person. Dirt on his fingertips, flower petals gone astray, grass stuck in his clothing -- anything, really.]
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and his boots are notably off and placed near the front door, as if to not track dirt into the room. maybe. ]
It's rude to have someone over and not offer them something.
[ he doesn't answer the question, naturally. ]
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That isn’t what I asked. [-he says, exasperation hanging off his words.]
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...It doesn't matter...?
[ he coughs.
an excellent retort. ]
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[Something that sounds like an exhale wrapped up in exasperation, subtle as it might be. With the flowers neatly encircling his wrist now, he takes his hand back, and reaches out to pluck a wilting leaf from Nier's hair.
He shows it to him, clenched between forefinger and thumb, the damning evidence that it is.]
Why are you so eager to neglect your own health?
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[ absently, his eyes flicker up. the bags underneath his eyes are somehow accentuated by this movement — or maybe it's look on his face, sullen with the exhaustion of being alive. ]
Whether or not I live doesn't matter. I've already fulfilled my purpose. It's okay.
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That's something a machine should say -- not a human. [He's quick to correct, if only because there's something off-putting about how easily Nier can admit to that.] What purpose was it that you think defines you so prevalently?
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[ idly, he reaches for his blade — his fingers delicately run along its sheath. ]
I'm not a machine, but I'm not what you would consider a regular human either. So you don't need to worry about me.
[ there's a beat. ]
...Not that it matters. You decide your purpose. No one else. Whether you're a man or a machine has nothing to do with it.
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It’s obvious how he takes a moment to formulate a response, one that will both cast a wide net for information, as well as quietly persuade him. The way he figuratively side-steps around the latter part is just as plain.]
Not that I can understand your own circumstances based on so little information, but wouldn’t your sister want for you to be in good health? “Regular human” or otherwise.
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he does not laugh. instead he stares, blankly, lips furling into an incredibly small smile, like the blooming bud of a flower. ]
She doesn't remember who I am. She doesn't even know that I exist.
[ something ebbs in the sea of his eyes. a quiet, deep sorrow. ]
You're a very kind person, Connor. Thank you. For trying.
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[Sadness in his eyes, Connor notes. A flicker of something so small that it might have been missed by someone less observant.]
I'm... sorry to hear about your sister, though. If you don't wish to talk about it, that's fine. [Propriety overrides curiosity in this case, though the option is purposefully left open.] But would you be willing to take the wishes of others into consideration?
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[ he doesn't perceive it as an opening — it's best to avert the prospect of burdening someone else. he runs his fingers through his own hair for a moment. ]
...Maybe.
[ he knows where he's going with this. it's difficult to repress a smile. ]
Only if they promise to think of themselves too.
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But some part of Connor, maybe a section of his programming that's hard for him to pin down, finds he can make this promise if it means Nier's going to be less stubborn about all of this. The man needs his rest. Connor owes him a debt, and this is part of how he intends to fulfill it -- to make sure that he recovers if he really is getting sick.]
I think that's a fair compromise. Besides, I doubt I'm the only one here who would be making this request of you, if they knew.