[Rare that anyone finds Connor in his room, but Meddy is fortunate this time. He's tending to what very few items he owns, before making the decision to head back out and aid those who have fallen sick. In fact, he's mid-turn to face the door to his room when the little medical bot is suddenly in his vision.]
Meddy...?
[He knows the look of a scan when he sees one -- makes him wish that his still worked -- and on some instinct he stands stock-still to let Meddy do their thing.]
I'm fine. I'm not sick, if that's why you're scanning me.
though they don't really have a face to call their own, it's kind of amazing that meddy is able to, somehow and someway, give an exasperated look to connor. just to let him know they don't buy the 'fine' aspect at the moment.
not being sick? that's a given, as they slowly go through their analysis and (reluctantly) give him the clear for the flu. being fine? they think not-
and so they nudge their helm against connor, trying to direct him somewhere out of his room. they may only weigh eight-or-so pounds on a good day, but gosh darnit are they going to try and get him to safety.
their eyelights from their monitor/face flicker away and soon disappear altogether, now the only thing on the screen are the rather ominous words:
[He goes from being still, to being gently(?) jostled forward, metal pressed against his back, to moving his feet forward towards the exit of his door. Connor detaches himself just long enough so that he can glance back, confusion briefly crossing his features, and it’s hard to miss the bold red text flashing on Meddy’s display.]
Quarantine zone? Hold on—
[Connor nigh digs his heels in, turning with a laughable little spin, his tie swooshing behind him in the follow-up.]
I don’t need to be quarantined; I need to help those here who are sick.
[ meddy pulls back when connor turns to face them, their finials twitching unhappily. most likely from connor's insistence to get involved with the flu going around because no! no helping! only hiding with daylight in the quarantine zone.
the words on meddy's display are replaced with their regular eyelights. just so they can stare at connor while letting out a string of sounds:
beep boop bewooop!, goes meddy, the tone low and full of disapproval. perhaps with a tinge of worry in there. ]
[One hand to reach up and fix the knot of his tie, the other holding the bottom steady. A frown tugs at the corner of his lips, and Connor (odd as it is), takes in the meaning behind the look of Meddy's eyelights. Expression might be harder to garner from a face that isn't human, since that was what he was programmed to unravel and interpret, but the tone? Far less so.
Connor is well-attuned, after all, to the sound of disapproval.]
I'll be fine. ...I promise.
[This isn't like last time, where there was threat of him frying his circuitry again. This was an ingrained need to help those around him, to keep the Circle functioning. (To keep his friends, those he's become close with, functioning.)]
I want to help. I need to. I'd be useless, otherwise, standing in one place and accomplishing nothing for anyone here.
[ though there's no need for it, meddy makes the motions of letting out a deep sigh from their tiny chassis because - siiiigh. just. siiiiigh.
what is with them and getting attached/worried for dangerously reckless individuals who only mean well? and ones who insist they need to help others at the risk of themselves? seems to be a trend for their programming.
not one they mind, of course. most of the time.
beeeeeeep, meddy replies to connor, the sound uncertain but not reprimanding. they certainly sound more... patient? less likely to actively try and put him into daylight's rooms and hide him under sheets, at the very least. beeop boop beep?
though it seems that no one else but daylight can understand their binary basics, meddy is motioning their fins towards where they think connor sleeps and back to him just in case.
have you taken the time to rest?, is what meddy is trying to ask. ]
[Poor Meddy. They try, they really do. But Connor is stubborn, he's like a dog that has its jaws set into bone and refuses to budge until something breaks -- applied to investigations this isn't always bad, often times helpful. Applied to most anything else, and it simply means that the boy has an issue with letting things go.
Such is the case.
The answer to Meddy's implied question should be clear enough, given the state of Connor's bed, which looks unused. He glances back at it, then back to the little medbot, shaking his head.]
I'm an android. We don't tire in the same way that humans do.
[He isn't sure if Meddy is the same way, so he'll not assume.]
meddy, for what its worth, listens to connor with clear patience and takes in what he's telling them. it seems they're giving him the benefit of the doubt, the incident in the library or not, but they still go through the motion of huffing through their vents once more, their finials twitching this way and about.
beep beep beep boop bewoop?
but you can still get tired?, is what they're asking. a little bit more difficult to pantomime, of course, but they're hoping their incredulity would be enough to show through. ]
[The incredulity does shine through, though it's hard to string a sentence from it. Still, it reads as doubt, and Connor clarifies.]
We really don't get tired. We don't feel pain, and though we can be injured, it's easy enough to work through it if need be. For as long as necessary.
[Parts can be worn out, grow sluggish, core battery life can technically go dead after a full century or so. But tiredness is not something androids experience.]
You worry often, don't you? That must be part and parcel of being a medical unit.
[ meddy beeps an affirmative at the question and, just like that, they seem to visibly sag from all the worrying and fussing they do who fall under their parameters of needing care.
right now - too many individuals in this wacky place fit the criteria.
without another word, meddy makes another zip to connor - only, this time, they try to snuggle into connor's arms before tilting their helm up to keep eye - optic? - contact with the bigger android.
beep boop beep boop beep, goes the little droid. meddy points at connor. points at themselves. points at connor. points at themselves again.
they seem to be asking either to be carried around or brought along. either way - it's pretty obvious meddy is not going to be leaving connor's side anytime soon. ]
Or maybe it’s the other way around. Regardless, he’s never had this happen, a bot nudging itself into his arms, but on some strange instinct, Connor obliges.
And stands there for a moment, not sure how to proceed.]
[ beep beep!, is meddy's answer. judging by how cheerful it sounds - and the fact their finials are twitching in a content manner - that seems to be their plan.
if connor is going to go running around, tending to sick individuals - well. fine. meddy can't do much since they're only three feet in height and, on a good day, eight pounds. there's only so face their bossiness and beeping can go when you're not an established medroid.
the very least they can do is stick by his side and make sure everyone is getting proper care. ]
[ hello kettle. the tiny pot reaches out with a tiny fin of theirs. this is a little bit difficult, given their size and the angle and all, but meddy does their best to try and give connor a good whack for being rude.
-except it's clear that meddy is pulling their punches.
the most they do is give a gentle 'bop!' at the tip of connor's nose. a bop that's accompanied with a not-too-sharp 'beep!' of theirs. ]
[The little bop connects, and of course it wasn’t quite what Connor was expecting. He just stands there for a moment, looking at Meddy, parsing this reaction in his head.]
Sorry. I didn’t mean to offend.
[But there’s something overtly fond about the gesture, he thinks, though his analysis can’t quite pin down why. A reasoning behind Meddy being concerned, unlike anyone really has been before. He smiles.]
Let me try again — I appreciate your presence very much, Meddy.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Meddy...?
[He knows the look of a scan when he sees one -- makes him wish that his still worked -- and on some instinct he stands stock-still to let Meddy do their thing.]
I'm fine. I'm not sick, if that's why you're scanning me.
no subject
though they don't really have a face to call their own, it's kind of amazing that meddy is able to, somehow and someway, give an exasperated look to connor. just to let him know they don't buy the 'fine' aspect at the moment.
not being sick? that's a given, as they slowly go through their analysis and (reluctantly) give him the clear for the flu. being fine? they think not-
and so they nudge their helm against connor, trying to direct him somewhere out of his room. they may only weigh eight-or-so pounds on a good day, but gosh darnit are they going to try and get him to safety.
their eyelights from their monitor/face flicker away and soon disappear altogether, now the only thing on the screen are the rather ominous words:
new destination: quarantine zone! ]
no subject
Quarantine zone? Hold on—
[Connor nigh digs his heels in, turning with a laughable little spin, his tie swooshing behind him in the follow-up.]
I don’t need to be quarantined; I need to help those here who are sick.
no subject
the words on meddy's display are replaced with their regular eyelights. just so they can stare at connor while letting out a string of sounds:
beep boop bewooop!, goes meddy, the tone low and full of disapproval. perhaps with a tinge of worry in there. ]
no subject
Connor is well-attuned, after all, to the sound of disapproval.]
I'll be fine. ...I promise.
[This isn't like last time, where there was threat of him frying his circuitry again. This was an ingrained need to help those around him, to keep the Circle functioning. (To keep his friends, those he's become close with, functioning.)]
I want to help. I need to. I'd be useless, otherwise, standing in one place and accomplishing nothing for anyone here.
no subject
what is with them and getting attached/worried for dangerously reckless individuals who only mean well? and ones who insist they need to help others at the risk of themselves? seems to be a trend for their programming.
not one they mind, of course. most of the time.
beeeeeeep, meddy replies to connor, the sound uncertain but not reprimanding. they certainly sound more... patient? less likely to actively try and put him into daylight's rooms and hide him under sheets, at the very least. beeop boop beep?
though it seems that no one else but daylight can understand their binary basics, meddy is motioning their fins towards where they think connor sleeps and back to him just in case.
have you taken the time to rest?, is what meddy is trying to ask. ]
no subject
Such is the case.
The answer to Meddy's implied question should be clear enough, given the state of Connor's bed, which looks unused. He glances back at it, then back to the little medbot, shaking his head.]
I'm an android. We don't tire in the same way that humans do.
[He isn't sure if Meddy is the same way, so he'll not assume.]
no subject
meddy, for what its worth, listens to connor with clear patience and takes in what he's telling them. it seems they're giving him the benefit of the doubt, the incident in the library or not, but they still go through the motion of huffing through their vents once more, their finials twitching this way and about.
beep beep beep boop bewoop?
but you can still get tired?, is what they're asking. a little bit more difficult to pantomime, of course, but they're hoping their incredulity would be enough to show through. ]
no subject
We really don't get tired. We don't feel pain, and though we can be injured, it's easy enough to work through it if need be. For as long as necessary.
[Parts can be worn out, grow sluggish, core battery life can technically go dead after a full century or so. But tiredness is not something androids experience.]
You worry often, don't you? That must be part and parcel of being a medical unit.
no subject
right now - too many individuals in this wacky place fit the criteria.
without another word, meddy makes another zip to connor - only, this time, they try to snuggle into connor's arms before tilting their helm up to keep eye - optic? - contact with the bigger android.
beep boop beep boop beep, goes the little droid. meddy points at connor. points at themselves. points at connor. points at themselves again.
they seem to be asking either to be carried around or brought along. either way - it's pretty obvious meddy is not going to be leaving connor's side anytime soon. ]
no subject
Or maybe it’s the other way around. Regardless, he’s never had this happen, a bot nudging itself into his arms, but on some strange instinct, Connor obliges.
And stands there for a moment, not sure how to proceed.]
Sorry… you want me to carry you?
no subject
if connor is going to go running around, tending to sick individuals - well. fine. meddy can't do much since they're only three feet in height and, on a good day, eight pounds. there's only so face their bossiness and beeping can go when you're not an established medroid.
the very least they can do is stick by his side and make sure everyone is getting proper care. ]
no subject
Still, instead of exasperation, he looks down at the little bot with a faint smile.]
You’re very stubborn.
[Pot, meet kettle.]
no subject
-except it's clear that meddy is pulling their punches.
the most they do is give a gentle 'bop!' at the tip of connor's nose. a bop that's accompanied with a not-too-sharp 'beep!' of theirs. ]
no subject
Sorry. I didn’t mean to offend.
[But there’s something overtly fond about the gesture, he thinks, though his analysis can’t quite pin down why. A reasoning behind Meddy being concerned, unlike anyone really has been before. He smiles.]
Let me try again — I appreciate your presence very much, Meddy.