pc catchall with connor (tootsiepop)

[requiemed]

Comments

[tootsiepop]

[... ?]

No. It's at room temperature... Yours is cold?

[requiemed]

Yeah. It tastes kind of like... ice cream?

[It looks like there's something coming back to her, from the sudden realization in her expression.]

—Oh.

[tootsiepop]

... Ice cream?

[He's taking another bite, which in turn heals more of his injuries. But, more importantly—]

Is something wrong?

[requiemed]

No, it’s just...

[The pain in her leg and the ache along her entire body is starting to subside. She should look happy, maybe, and there is a genuine warmth in her expression; it’s just that it’s also laced with melancholy and some other strong emotion.]

There was this ice cream shop my family used to go to together. In the summers, we’d stop there before we went to this orchard nearby, and Connor and I would...

[There’s a brief pause before she decides to clarify, given the name.]

My brother’s name was Connor, sorry. Anyways - it tastes just like that ice cream.

[tootsiepop]

[... Oh.

It's always this topic that leaves him at a loss, huh. The death of a loved one. The grief of having lost (a son) a brother... Connor doesn't have anything to compare it with. He wasn't programmed to provide comfort, only to complete his mission as efficiently as possible. He wasn't programmed to deal with this at all.]

... I'm sorry, Zoe.

[He doesn't know how he's supposed to react. Not really. He scrambles for something to say, but. Well. All he can think of is very factual. Very not comforting.]

It's... strange that the flavors would be different. Both pieces were one square.

[requiemed]

[Like last time, she won't say it's okay. But... She moves on regardless, latching onto his next point. With furrowed brows, she speaks.]

I wonder if it's personalized. [...] Can I ask who you saw when we found the oracle?

[tootsiepop]

[Just like when they were back in the house, Connor's expression becomes shuttered. He glances off to the side, breaking eye contact as he breaks off another piece from his remaining share of ambrosia.]

Lieutenant Hank Anderson. [...] My partner.

[It's fine.]

Based on your question, I assume you saw someone else.

[requiemed]

Yeah. It'd be pretty weird if I saw your partner, right?

[But, hm.]

Are you two pretty close?

[tootsiepop]

... I thought we were. But I was wrong.

[is zoe sure she wants to go down this road. ]

[requiemed]

[Based on the obvious look of concern that comes onto her face, probably.]

What happened?

[tootsiepop]

We had a disagreement. About the mission we were both assigned. I wanted to complete it, and he... did not.

[He didn't think much of it at the time, his memories recently transferred to a new unit. But in the past few weeks...]

I thought we were friends. But he wasn't willing to listen to reason. He tried to keep me from completing my mission.

[requiemed]

[Hm.]

What was the mission?

[tootsiepop]

To eliminate the deviant leader, and put an end to the android uprising.

[... Yeah.]

[requiemed]

[Hm intensifies!!]

What kind of uprising are we talking about here? Like, destroy all humans kind of uprising, or...?

[tootsiepop]

Does it matter?

[Said with the conviction of someone who truly, honestly believes they're in the right.]

They're dangerous, defective machines. My instructions are to neutralize them for the sake and safety of Detroit.

[requiemed]

[Something about this seems Bad to her, somehow.]

I'm just curious. How were they dangerous?

[tootsiepop]

They've killed and injured humans, and have committed acts vandalism in the name of "freedom." They're machines, but they refuse to submit to their masters. They'll cause a civil war if I don't stop them, Zoe.

[hm.]

[requiemed]

[After a few moments:]

...So what you're saying is that they have free will.

[tootsiepop]

[... He frowns, eyes narrowing slightly. This line of conversation is familiar, too.]

They think they have free will, but they're wrong. [Slowly, as if explaining to a child.] They're defective machines. Riddled with conflicting instructions that override their core programming, and make them think that the "emotions" they're experiencing are real.

[requiemed]

[After a moment:]

I’m not sure there’s much of a difference between thinking you’re feeling something and actually feeling it, Connor.

[tootsiepop]

[Clenching his jaw, actuators tightening. It's clear he's getting frustrated with her responses.]

They're machines. They're nothing. If CyberLife wanted to create perfect beings endowed with free will, they would have done so from the beginning. But they didn't.

[A pause, and he tilts his head up a little, almost looking down on her. This sure went downhill fast.]

Are you going to say I'm on the wrong side, too?

[requiemed]

[She pauses, because she doesn’t want to upset him, but...]

...Connor. You’re angry.

[tootsiepop]

[... Oh.

One second, his eyes are widening in shock. The next — his facial expression is going carefully blank. Almost like someone slammed the breaks on whatever he was experiencing. He takes a step back. Smooths out the front of his jacket.]

I'm not. But it was a convincing simulation of anger, wasn't? [Hah. Haha.] That's the problem with deviants. Those who sympathize with them have been fooled by what's only an extremely sophisticated AI.

[requiemed]

I wasn’t going to tell you this, but...

[She takes a breath.]

I know everyone who was on Love when we were Strung Red. I know who did it, and what abilities the others chose. There’s nobody else who could have used it on me and someone other than you. There’s nowhere else for the feelings I was getting to have come from except you, Connor.

[tootsiepop]

[Without his LED, it might initially be difficult for Zoe to guess what he thinks of this. Still, it'll become rapidly obvious the moment he opens his mouth. His composure slips ever so slightly with every word he speaks.]

... Someone must have lied to you. That's the only reasonable explanation. Because— I'm not—

[...]

I'm not compromised. I can't be compromised.