Connor tries very hard not to think terribly hard on whatever that might mean, rubbing his hands together as his processors furiously try to churn out something appropriate to say. Just ignore the flickering LED and blue particles that blink uncertainly around him.
He can't just stand there awkwardly saying nothing forever, though.]
I can't detect anything particularly out of the ordinary in your vitals...
[That doesn't mean he's magically acquired modules for tracking bacteria and viruses, but it does point towards something more psychological in nature? Maybe?]
[By the time Hank is done with the glass of water, he wonders if he should just go to the shower and skip breakfast or lock himself in his room and tell Connor to call for a day off. He tries feebly to talk but at this point it seems to be a loosing battle.]
I uh...fuck...I dunno why the fuck I'm saying all of this shit--[Oh thank Christ his mouth stopped moving after that.]--not that it's unwarranted and--[have you ever seen Hank Anderson smack a hand into his own face? Because that's what just happened.] Jesus Christ!
[What the hell happened to his brain to mouth filter? The heat around them increases in reaction to Hank's own confusion]
Okay um...I'm going back to my room for a bit before I punch my own jaw off. You stay here looking good as you usually do!
[Connor's mind starts to head the same way when Hank declares his apparent desire to shut himself up, and he debates asking if Hank plans to take the day off. He doesn't know if he wants to jump right to suggesting that, though, so he just sort of awkwardly agrees, deciding he needs more information before determining the... best? approach?]
I'll... be here?
[It takes a second before his CPU catches back up to him a little.]
Is there anything I can do to help? [He doesn't know what that would be, given he doesn't know what the problem is, but he can at least offer.]
[He almost makes a run for it, screaming the entire way.]
Great. Wonderful. Nice to know you're around.
[God fucking dammit.]
Yeah, get me a new pair of socks so I can stuff them in my mouth before I say anything worse than what I just said. Sorry Connor...I uh...dunno what's the fuck's wrong with me. I ain't really that hungry anymore...well I'd still eat whatever you make anyway, but--
[Yeap that sounds the perfect time to shut himself from the world even more. SLAM! The door nearly falls off the hinges from Hank's panicked movements, making poor Sumo yelp up in fright from the noise.]
[It's somehow becoming difficult to determine whether Hank is being sarcastic or genuine and Connor isn't fond of it.
He watches a little helplessly as Hank stomps back into his bedroom, and blinks in the approximation of a flinch when the door hits its frame. He glances over to Sumo to make sure the dog does need any help calming down before taking a moment to compose an appropriate response.]
You haven't said anything bad, though?
[It was meant to come out as a statement. His bafflement at Hank's behavior made it into an unintentional question.]
[To be fair Hank is half wondering if he's being sarcastic and genuine and that's what he fears the most about the entire thing. Just like the thin ice tendrils sneaking out of his room for each step he takes before the door closes.]
I haven't?
[It's an question more to himself than to Connor.]
Shit...there's gotta be an explanation.
[He looks over to his bedside, the box of chocolate starring back at him and then...it all clicks. Or at least, he thinks it clicks. When the door opens again, Hank briefly peeks back at Connor, holding it like he would something hazardus.]
Hey handsome! ...Jesus. Connor! Did you buy these?
[Soon Connor will probably register the compliment(?) and be appropriately flustered, but he's still too confused with whatever is causing this for his processors to work through to that just yet.
Although his answer comes almost immediately after the question, he also takes the opportunity to scan the package.]
No, I didn't.
[A strange box of chocolates that Hank thought he'd bought... meaning they must have shown up within the apartment somehow. It's not an impossibility...]
Shit. I thought you'd gotten them for me. [He says something more, but manages to muffle it with a hand. Well it would have worked if Connor was a human anyway. Instead he'd hear 'because you're thoughtful'.]
Found 'em on my desk. [The movement from the door's frame is almost hilarious, what with just showing Hank's arms moving up and down to showcasing his clear frustration. The urge to throw the box into the wall is strong.] Coffee flavored too....fuck! I'll have to throw 'em out somewhere away from Sumo. [Thankfully whatever is ailing him is at least not strong enough for him to also attempt to flirt with his own dog.]
[Connor shows no hesitation in reaching for the box, although he does wait with his hand held out rather than snatching it up immediately.]
I can dispose of them.
[Away from Sumo. Or. Anybody.]
For future reference, I won't be leaving any gifts in your room. I've had a few strange items appear in my own, and I'd rather there not be any confusion.
[Like this, specifically. His curiosity is rising, however...]
I assume you think these are affecting you somehow?
[He holds the box over the android's hands precariously like a game prompt where the person just doesn't press the buttons as if he was about to give Connor a radioactive bomb. It's probably for the best that he hadn't taken it from Hank, otherwise he might have reacted differently.]
Yeah...wouldn't want you to eat one of these and end up like me.
[He's trying to lighten up the tension he's feeling, although this proves to be a fatal mistake.]
Too bad really, I would love to get a gift from you appearing in my room. Or just you appearing and--
[SLAM! There went Hank, there went the chocolates, disappearing back into his room as he screamed from the other side.]
FUCK THIS BULLSHIT, FUCK THIS FUCKING WORLD--
[Or perhaps not, as he reopens the door, but before Connor can even say anything, Hank flings the chocolates in his hands before violently closing the door again to continue.]
--OF COURSE I FUCKING THINK THESE ARE FUCKING AFFECTING ME! WHY THE FUCK WOULD I EVEN SAY THIS FUCKING SHIT? I SOUND LIKE A TEENAGER'S FIRST FUCKING BAR RUN!
[After a few moments of waiting for Hank to properly give him the box, he starts to actually move his own hand, eyebrows raising faintly as he listens to the... err, compliment?
And then the man and chocolates are gone, behind the door.]
...
[The lieutenant is definitely agitated, but yelling doesn't appear as if it's going to solve the problem. ... Connor still can't entirely define the problem himself, but apparently Hank is saying things he doesn't mean to say. He frowns to himself, trying to come to a conclusion.
He at least manages to catch the chocolates as they're tossed at him.]
I'll... just get rid of these.
[They can talk about it later, maybe. If Hank doesn't want to forget that this morning ever happened, which seems more likely.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Connor tries very hard not to think terribly hard on whatever that might mean, rubbing his hands together as his processors furiously try to churn out something appropriate to say. Just ignore the flickering LED and blue particles that blink uncertainly around him.
He can't just stand there awkwardly saying nothing forever, though.]
I can't detect anything particularly out of the ordinary in your vitals...
[That doesn't mean he's magically acquired modules for tracking bacteria and viruses, but it does point towards something more psychological in nature? Maybe?]
no subject
I uh...fuck...I dunno why the fuck I'm saying all of this shit--[Oh thank Christ his mouth stopped moving after that.]--not that it's unwarranted and--[have you ever seen Hank Anderson smack a hand into his own face? Because that's what just happened.] Jesus Christ!
[What the hell happened to his brain to mouth filter? The heat around them increases in reaction to Hank's own confusion]
Okay um...I'm going back to my room for a bit before I punch my own jaw off. You stay here looking good as you usually do!
no subject
I'll... be here?
[It takes a second before his CPU catches back up to him a little.]
Is there anything I can do to help? [He doesn't know what that would be, given he doesn't know what the problem is, but he can at least offer.]
no subject
Great. Wonderful. Nice to know you're around.
[God fucking dammit.]
Yeah, get me a new pair of socks so I can stuff them in my mouth before I say anything worse than what I just said. Sorry Connor...I uh...dunno what's the fuck's wrong with me. I ain't really that hungry anymore...well I'd still eat whatever you make anyway, but--
[Yeap that sounds the perfect time to shut himself from the world even more. SLAM! The door nearly falls off the hinges from Hank's panicked movements, making poor Sumo yelp up in fright from the noise.]
no subject
He watches a little helplessly as Hank stomps back into his bedroom, and blinks in the approximation of a flinch when the door hits its frame. He glances over to Sumo to make sure the dog does need any help calming down before taking a moment to compose an appropriate response.]
You haven't said anything bad, though?
[It was meant to come out as a statement. His bafflement at Hank's behavior made it into an unintentional question.]
no subject
I haven't?
[It's an question more to himself than to Connor.]
Shit...there's gotta be an explanation.
[He looks over to his bedside, the box of chocolate starring back at him and then...it all clicks. Or at least, he thinks it clicks. When the door opens again, Hank briefly peeks back at Connor, holding it like he would something hazardus.]
Hey handsome! ...Jesus. Connor! Did you buy these?
no subject
Although his answer comes almost immediately after the question, he also takes the opportunity to scan the package.]
No, I didn't.
[A strange box of chocolates that Hank thought he'd bought... meaning they must have shown up within the apartment somehow. It's not an impossibility...]
Where did you find them?
no subject
Found 'em on my desk. [The movement from the door's frame is almost hilarious, what with just showing Hank's arms moving up and down to showcasing his clear frustration. The urge to throw the box into the wall is strong.] Coffee flavored too....fuck! I'll have to throw 'em out somewhere away from Sumo. [Thankfully whatever is ailing him is at least not strong enough for him to also attempt to flirt with his own dog.]
no subject
I can dispose of them.
[Away from Sumo. Or. Anybody.]
For future reference, I won't be leaving any gifts in your room. I've had a few strange items appear in my own, and I'd rather there not be any confusion.
[Like this, specifically. His curiosity is rising, however...]
I assume you think these are affecting you somehow?
no subject
like a game prompt where the person just doesn't press the buttonsas if he was about to give Connor a radioactive bomb. It's probably for the best that he hadn't taken it from Hank, otherwise he might have reacted differently.]Yeah...wouldn't want you to eat one of these and end up like me.
[He's trying to lighten up the tension he's feeling, although this proves to be a fatal mistake.]
Too bad really, I would love to get a gift from you appearing in my room. Or just you appearing and--
[SLAM! There went Hank, there went the chocolates, disappearing back into his room as he screamed from the other side.]
FUCK THIS BULLSHIT, FUCK THIS FUCKING WORLD--
[Or perhaps not, as he reopens the door, but before Connor can even say anything, Hank flings the chocolates in his hands before violently closing the door again to continue.]
--OF COURSE I FUCKING THINK THESE ARE FUCKING AFFECTING ME! WHY THE FUCK WOULD I EVEN SAY THIS FUCKING SHIT? I SOUND LIKE A TEENAGER'S FIRST FUCKING BAR RUN!
no subject
And then the man and chocolates are gone, behind the door.]
...
[The lieutenant is definitely agitated, but yelling doesn't appear as if it's going to solve the problem. ... Connor still can't entirely define the problem himself, but apparently Hank is saying things he doesn't mean to say. He frowns to himself, trying to come to a conclusion.
He at least manages to catch the chocolates as they're tossed at him.]
I'll... just get rid of these.
[They can talk about it later, maybe. If Hank doesn't want to forget that this morning ever happened, which seems more likely.]
Let me know if you need anything.