[He does actually glance to Hank then, though his hands continue with making breakfast. Thank CyberLife for processors designed for multitasking. Unfortunately, being able to multitask doesn't keep his voice from going a note higher than he means it to be.]
No! [Damn it. He needs to stop overreacting. Is this because he's a deviant now, or something with Thras' passing, or what? His eyebrows knit together slightly in frustration at himself.] I mean—I'm glad that you did it. [The tingling in his face has yet to recede, but he doesn't think he's unhappy. It's not an feeling he's experienced before, but he tries to talk through it both to comfort Hank's worries and work through it logically, himself.
He reaches for the salt shaker on the counter, measuring out just enough to hit a balance between Hank's preference and what's good for him.]
It... means a lot to me, that you would. I do enjoy working, but I know that you like having time off to enjoy other things, so I know you meant well. I don't want to dismiss that, after you went through the trouble to do it.
[At first he'd find Hank staring at the coffee cup, frowning in thought. He only snaps his entire face and elbows towards him eyes wide at the other's No! like Connor was suddenly on fire.
Fortunately, he doesn't look angry, but with it, brings a multitude of other questions that continues to leave Hank in a state of confusion. The features on his face soften up as he breathes a sigh of relief, tension finally gone. There's still a lot of warning signs that his brain is either purposefully ignoring or he doesn't quite catch its true meaning yet. He's just, really relieved.]
Don't...don't worry about it Connor. [He's not sure why he had been that worried, really. Or the fact he can't find a good joke to crack right at that moment like why he's being so little salt. It doesn't feel right to say one for some damn reason he can't fathom.] Let's just enjoy the entire day and do whatever you want.
[Hank can be assured that the android is anything but angry, at least; neither his voice nor expression imply anything of the sort, and after a few more moments the color fades from his face. Similarly, the green of his LED cycles back to his usual blue, and his expression still seems more surprised or confused than happy for the moment.
He is pleased, though, and he's looking forward to the day; it's just accompanied by something else he can't yet define. He'll have to run through a few entries in his psychological profiling module to work out what it is.]
Right. I'm sure we can figure out something to do. I only have one thought in mind so far, but there's still a lot to this city we haven't seen.
[He's back to suggestions and plans as usual, at least. Hopefully that will help reassure Hank that things are normal.]
[He isn't the only one who will be in need of a module to figure out wtf had just happened. Hank concludes it could just be all that CyberLife programming and how androids shouldn't get days off or some shit.
Too bad that also made no sense.
Just something to mind, he notes to himself, even as Connor's LED returns to normal. It's almost like nothing had happened, apart from his still surprised look. A sip of his shitty coffee would have been good right about now. He'll just ease back to his usual mannerisms as much as Connor was doing the same.]
This isn't just an excuse to make me walk all around the city, is it?
[That's at least enough to help Connor ease more out of that uncomfortable feeling, whatever it was. He smiles very slightly, tilting his head at Hank for a moment before he glances between the food he's preparing and the coffee.]
Well... what else would you be doing?
[Sitting at home, reading and listening to the radio? Even if Connor understands that relaxation is an important part of human experience, it seems like kind of a waste of an entire day off.]
Honestly? Sit here, grab a book or two and and listen to the radio.
[If he knew that Connor had guessed that, he would have some sort of epiphany about his habits.]
So yeah you probably have a better idea of what might be fun to do. Knew Detroit like my back pocket, guess I should start tryin' to do the same thing here.
[He needs to find himself another illegal gambling ring and a chicken sandwich operation, clearly.]
[Arguably better than Hank at this point, since he had a better memory than the human of what he might have done on a certain day. His lips curl into a brief snicker.]
Right. Guess it just means we have to combine our powers together or however you wanna call it. You suggest things, I'll let you know if they'll be fun.
[Hank liked his job well enough, but had been doing it for over 30 years.]
[Their "powers"... it's an interesting way to word that, but Connor smiles a little nonetheless. He supposes there is something to humans that makes them a little supernatural occasionally, compared to an android like himself.]
I'm sure we'll make a good team.
[But that will come after Hank has his breakfast and a proper cup of coffee—neither of which will take much longer to get ready, thankfully. Besides, Connor is looking forward to the day too much to dawdle where it's not necessary.]
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No! [Damn it. He needs to stop overreacting. Is this because he's a deviant now, or something with Thras' passing, or what? His eyebrows knit together slightly in frustration at himself.] I mean—I'm glad that you did it. [The tingling in his face has yet to recede, but he doesn't think he's unhappy. It's not an feeling he's experienced before, but he tries to talk through it both to comfort Hank's worries and work through it logically, himself.
He reaches for the salt shaker on the counter, measuring out just enough to hit a balance between Hank's preference and what's good for him.]
It... means a lot to me, that you would. I do enjoy working, but I know that you like having time off to enjoy other things, so I know you meant well. I don't want to dismiss that, after you went through the trouble to do it.
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Fortunately, he doesn't look angry, but with it, brings a multitude of other questions that continues to leave Hank in a state of confusion. The features on his face soften up as he breathes a sigh of relief, tension finally gone. There's still a lot of warning signs that his brain is either purposefully ignoring or he doesn't quite catch its true meaning yet. He's just, really relieved.]
Don't...don't worry about it Connor. [He's not sure why he had been that worried, really. Or the fact he can't find a good joke to crack right at that moment like why he's being so little salt. It doesn't feel right to say one for some damn reason he can't fathom.] Let's just enjoy the entire day and do whatever you want.
[...]
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He is pleased, though, and he's looking forward to the day; it's just accompanied by something else he can't yet define. He'll have to run through a few entries in his psychological profiling module to work out what it is.]
Right. I'm sure we can figure out something to do. I only have one thought in mind so far, but there's still a lot to this city we haven't seen.
[He's back to suggestions and plans as usual, at least. Hopefully that will help reassure Hank that things are normal.]
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Too bad that also made no sense.
Just something to mind, he notes to himself, even as Connor's LED returns to normal. It's almost like nothing had happened, apart from his still surprised look. A sip of his shitty coffee would have been good right about now. He'll just ease back to his usual mannerisms as much as Connor was doing the same.]
This isn't just an excuse to make me walk all around the city, is it?
[From the smile he has now, he's back to joking.]
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Well... what else would you be doing?
[Sitting at home, reading and listening to the radio? Even if Connor understands that relaxation is an important part of human experience, it seems like kind of a waste of an entire day off.]
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[If he knew that Connor had guessed that, he would have some sort of epiphany about his habits.]
So yeah you probably have a better idea of what might be fun to do. Knew Detroit like my back pocket, guess I should start tryin' to do the same thing here.
[He needs to find himself another illegal gambling ring and a chicken sandwich operation, clearly.]
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I still think you have more of a conception of "fun" than I do, but it does seem like I'm a little better at finding new things.
[He finds their job fun, after all. Hank probably doesn't consider that enough of a hobby or interest to "count."]
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Right. Guess it just means we have to combine our powers together or however you wanna call it. You suggest things, I'll let you know if they'll be fun.
[Hank liked his job well enough, but had been doing it for over 30 years.]
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I'm sure we'll make a good team.
[But that will come after Hank has his breakfast and a proper cup of coffee—neither of which will take much longer to get ready, thankfully. Besides, Connor is looking forward to the day too much to dawdle where it's not necessary.]