( now that connor is actually visibly emoting again his brows are all but permanently drawn into a deep set frown. hank's short-lived lash out earns a quick wince, but the man probably deserves that much. it still doesn't entirely make sense to connor, who even after deviancy allowed him all the choice in the world returned to his old job because he was good at it, who still relies on pre-programmed prompts close to half the time when he interacts with anyone but hank, who months later still has very little in the way of personal preference beyond one: hank. but hank isn't connor, and it seems like that's where the root of his mistake lies.
connor assumed – mistakenly, he now understands – that hank would see the situation in the same way that connor did. connor, who will select an objectively correct choice so effortlessly it doesn't feel like a choice, assumed that the same could be said for hank – which in hindsight makes little sense, otherwise the man would have already been making these decisions for himself before connor came into his life. he just hadn't thought about it this complexly until now, it had been simple. hank required an improvement in his lifestyle to avoid an early grave and connor knew exactly what was required to achieve that. connor needed a way to fill the massive void that had been left when deviancy freed him from an externally issued objective, and hank had an objective to complete. it seemed completely logical, so much so that he hadn't taken the time to think about it further. that's probably a good chunk of his mistake, too.
he recognises the comment for a joke, but there's a split second of red before his LED returns to spinning yellow. even as a joke the thought threatens to send connor into a tailspin again, but he's aware enough not to attempt to analyse anything and set the wheels in motion again. what he wants to do is fish out the coin that's still sitting in his pocket, but he's not so socially undeveloped that he doesn't recognise it would be inappropriate in this moment. he settles for drumming his fingers against his pants instead, over the thigh where material and a slightly thicker dermal layer will prevent too much noise from the action. )
I'm...sorry. ( he lingers a little around the word, which is odd considering connor doesn't normally have much trouble apologising, not when he recognises that he's made a mistake, or done something wrong – and for all his good intentions, connor has made a mistake here. ) Adjusting to freedom has been challenging. And humans are...complex.
[ hank prefers the visible emoting to the deliberate neutral one -- the latter makes him recoil, makes him pissed because it reminds him of just how unnatural it is. connor's developing on his own, making his own choices, and as quickly as hank's anger comes it goes, leaving him exhaling a long, weary sigh. he has to remember, he reminds himself, he has to remember that connor's only been around for a year or so; he has to remember that there is a lot for them to learn about each other.
he looks down at his half-finished plate, suddenly finding himself already full even if it's painstakingly made by connor, and he doesn't touch the plate again, elbows resting on the table as he regards connor. this time, it's his turn to assess the android, to do his own scan of his face, that posture, the way he's pretty sure connor is soundlessly fidgeting because he can see the jump of movement in his neck.
there's a problem here, between the both of them -- and hank's not naive enough to think that there wouldn't be. they complement each other, but they're different in their own regard, and just as hank is learning about connor, the other is surely learning the myriad nuances of human behavior, and unfortunately a lot of it can't be found on a website, or as manageable data.
even machines fail, sometimes, and connor is more than that.
connor apologises, strangely hesitant, as if he's testing the word, or figuring out what to say next. it's so very human that hank sometimes forget that connor isn't one at all. ]
Look, it's all right. You can take all the time you want.
[ god knows hank still has a lot to figure out about android behavior, how coldly rational and logical they are, even if a lot of them are now tempered with irrational feelings and emotions. ]
And we are. We're complex fuckers. Hell, I've lived for almost a century and I still can't figure half of them out.
[ although now that the storm has passed for the moment, hank goes back to picking through what connor had said out of anger, careful, cautious. he ultimately chooses the less dangerous option, a sort-of compromise: ] Can't hurt to go for a walk with Sumo now and then.
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connor assumed – mistakenly, he now understands – that hank would see the situation in the same way that connor did. connor, who will select an objectively correct choice so effortlessly it doesn't feel like a choice, assumed that the same could be said for hank – which in hindsight makes little sense, otherwise the man would have already been making these decisions for himself before connor came into his life. he just hadn't thought about it this complexly until now, it had been simple. hank required an improvement in his lifestyle to avoid an early grave and connor knew exactly what was required to achieve that. connor needed a way to fill the massive void that had been left when deviancy freed him from an externally issued objective, and hank had an objective to complete. it seemed completely logical, so much so that he hadn't taken the time to think about it further. that's probably a good chunk of his mistake, too.
he recognises the comment for a joke, but there's a split second of red before his LED returns to spinning yellow. even as a joke the thought threatens to send connor into a tailspin again, but he's aware enough not to attempt to analyse anything and set the wheels in motion again. what he wants to do is fish out the coin that's still sitting in his pocket, but he's not so socially undeveloped that he doesn't recognise it would be inappropriate in this moment. he settles for drumming his fingers against his pants instead, over the thigh where material and a slightly thicker dermal layer will prevent too much noise from the action. )
I'm...sorry. ( he lingers a little around the word, which is odd considering connor doesn't normally have much trouble apologising, not when he recognises that he's made a mistake, or done something wrong – and for all his good intentions, connor has made a mistake here. ) Adjusting to freedom has been challenging. And humans are...complex.
( in a word )
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he looks down at his half-finished plate, suddenly finding himself already full even if it's painstakingly made by connor, and he doesn't touch the plate again, elbows resting on the table as he regards connor. this time, it's his turn to assess the android, to do his own scan of his face, that posture, the way he's pretty sure connor is soundlessly fidgeting because he can see the jump of movement in his neck.
there's a problem here, between the both of them -- and hank's not naive enough to think that there wouldn't be. they complement each other, but they're different in their own regard, and just as hank is learning about connor, the other is surely learning the myriad nuances of human behavior, and unfortunately a lot of it can't be found on a website, or as manageable data.
even machines fail, sometimes, and connor is more than that.
connor apologises, strangely hesitant, as if he's testing the word, or figuring out what to say next. it's so very human that hank sometimes forget that connor isn't one at all. ]
Look, it's all right. You can take all the time you want.
[ god knows hank still has a lot to figure out about android behavior, how coldly rational and logical they are, even if a lot of them are now tempered with irrational feelings and emotions. ]
And we are. We're complex fuckers. Hell, I've lived for almost a century and I still can't figure half of them out.
[ although now that the storm has passed for the moment, hank goes back to picking through what connor had said out of anger, careful, cautious. he ultimately chooses the less dangerous option, a sort-of compromise: ] Can't hurt to go for a walk with Sumo now and then.