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[bleps]

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[paladorable]

Less that, and more that it has some unpleasant memories attached to it, so I prefer to keep it hidden.

[ Though it is definitely unflattering, too. In addition to the paint, he keeps his hair like it is for a reason, as well, since the worst of the scarring is in the middle of his forehead. ]

[bleps]

[And thus Connor finds himself in the middle of a familiar sort of situation, and his social programming strains to dictate his next action. “Unpleasant memories” meaning bad associations, also meaning that people are often not inclined to talk about it — depending on closeness and circumstance. Depending on personality, and willingness.

They’re in the middle of this tent, likely tired, in which Arenvald didn’t bring up the matter; Connor did. But his friend is the amicable sort, and it is hard not to be curious.

In the end, he decides to venture asking.]

I’m sorry to hear that. I didn’t know. Are you willing to talk about it, or did you prefer for me to not press the subject?

[At least he remains conscientious in that weird Connor-like way of his.]

[paladorable]

[ If nothing else, he's glad that Connor is so straight-forward, outright asking instead of awkwardly dancing around the subject and dropping vague hints. ]

Later, mayhap. When the both of us have had a proper chance to rest and recover.

[bleps]

[Even better, then, that his friend is the type to respond well to his straightforward approach. An awkward reply in return, where people vacillate between annoyance and faux comfort always muddles things up.]

Later, then. We’re all due for a little bit of refocus after this mission.

[A successful mission. It’s... nice.]

[paladorable]

[ He’s almost brought up his own past in conversation with Connor several times now, what with Connor’s insistence that he is not meant to be more that he was made for. Arenvald knows how that feels, after years of scraping away on the streets, a child of two worlds and yet belonging to neither. It was only his own choices that led him across Baelsar’s Wall and, eventually, into the company of the Scions.

After all that, he could never believe that someone is the product of their birth and no more – even if Connor was manufactured rather than born.

But, given all they’ve been through, the timing never felt right, or it felt like too much to heap onto an already reeling Connor. He’d welcome the chance to discuss it in private, once things have calmed down. ]

I’m due for a decent meal and a nap after this mission, to be quite honest with you.

[bleps]

[It's for the best, likely, even if Connor's curiosity would dictate otherwise. Still, he's patient -- or rather, he can afford to pretend to be patient for a friend.]

And if I was the kind of individual that ate or slept, I would agree with you.

[paladorable]

Be glad you don’t eat. That slime that serves as food here is terrible.

[ He makes a face, wrinkling his nose. Though, that does bring up a question about Connor in general. ]

Can you even taste things or just… uh, analyze them?

[bleps]

I did notice. I spoke with several, gathering their opinions on the food; none of it was flattering.

[He should be grateful, but honestly, he was more concerned for the state of morale after having to eat that slop every morning.]

Only analysis. Taste is not a sense that androids experience, not in the way that humans do. Though both forms gather information in their own way.

[paladorable]

[ He really wishes that he’d gotten to know Konoha weeks ago. Her ability to create fruits and vegetables out of nothing has been an absolute life-saver. ]

True. And I suppose if you can’t eat it, being able to taste it would be kind of silly.

[bleps]

Unnecessary, yes. Though I wouldn't call it silly.

[A beat.]

...Admittedly, I have wondered what it might be like to taste things. Food is such an important part of any given culture; it's strange to not be able to experience it, when I was designed with the purpose to integrate and learn from humans.

[paladorable]

Mayhap they figured a sense of taste would get in the way when you’ve got to go about licking oil and the Twelve knows what else.

[ Don’t lick strange things you find on the street, Connor!! ]

[bleps]

[why not]

To be fair, taking oil samples isn't common.

It's usually various forms of blood, or other relevant bodily fluids.

[paladorable]

[ Now he really makes a face. ]

That’s even worse. Gods, I wouldn’t want a sense of taste if I had to do all that!

[bleps]

[Well that's a familiar reaction.]

Maybe so. But being able to take samples in real time has always proved advantageous during investigations. It's just part of the job.

[paladorable]

It’s still gross.

[ This, as he jabs at Connor’s shoulder playfully. ]

But I’ll believe you when you say it’s helpful. We’ve nothing very sophisticated when it comes to investigating murders or aught else.

[bleps]

[He jostles a little at the jab, but huffs out something that sounds like a faint laugh if you squint.]

You sound like someone I know.

[paladorable]

[ He quirks a brow, glancing over. ]

Do I now? I hope that’s a compliment.

[ Little does he know. ]

[bleps]

My work partner back home, Lieutenant Hank Anderson. He’s of a similar mindset. He thinks taking samples like I do is ‘gross’.

[I hope you can hear those air quotes, Arenvald.]

[paladorable]

[ Oh, he can, and he laughs again. ]

Surely you understand why we’d think that, right?

[bleps]

No.

I don't taste, as you said. I don't get sick. There's no reason why you should think it's 'gross' when the usual consequences don't apply.

[paladorable]

Well, to those of us who do eat, it looks like you’re tasting whatever it is you’re putting in your mouth, oil or blood or whatever else. Even if I know what it is you’re doing, I can’t help but make the association, and I also can’t help thinking “that must taste awful”.

[bleps]

I understand. But there's nothing I can do about it. CyberLife designed me that way.

If it helps, the point is a moot one here.

[paladorable]

I’m just telling you why me, and probably most humans, immediately react with “ew” when we see you do that.

[ He tilts his head a little. ]

Are there any other functions you’re missing aside from that?

[bleps]

Yes.

[Definitely yes.]

All modes of scanning are disabled. This includes preconstruction and reconstruction, as well as simply analyzing people and items as necessary. I cannot interface with technology [Struxta was an exception, apparently] and I cannot communicate wirelessly with other androids. I've lost the ability to mimic voices. I've also lost my connection to a continually updating database; generally, I've lost connection to CyberLife altogether, though this isn't surprising, given the apparent distance.

[paladorable]

That’s… that’s quite the list.

[ And indeed it is. Arenvald has no idea what half of that stuff even means, but the sheer amount of things Connor rattled off is startling. ]

I know Aliphinaud and Alisaie both have lost the ability to use the magic they could use back in Eorzea, so I wonder if whatever law that governs that places a lot of your functions in the same category. I’m fairly certain my Echo is gone as well, but that is definitely more magical.