#I HAVE TO APPREHEND A DEVIANT | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

not-neverland06 · 1 year ago

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Broken Machinery

Pt. 4 (completed series)

Series masterlist

Connor RK800 x fem!reader

A/N: A long one, I wanted some more domestic moments between the two, sue me. Black dahlia’s represent betrayal (or it’s just a nice gift for that emo friend in your life)

Content Warnings: Cussing (duh), body breaking like fine china, shoulders out of sockets (not that bad but I googled a picture of one and it’s gross), overdose (but not really), past death of a child (not reader’s), readers got hair long enough to be in a braid, death of a pot

Word Count: 6.4k

Series Summary: You and your grumpy partner Anderson gain a new addition to the team. He’s supposed to be CyberLife’s best, but there’s something not quite right with his programming, and the problems seem to revolve around you.

Shoulders aren’t supposed to look like that. They’re sure as fuck not supposed to feel like that either. You can’t even lift your arm to peel off your jacket, you don’t have to though, they’re dislocated.

“Y/N!” Calloused hands on your wrist and then all of your body weight is jerked down and hanging from your shoulders, you can feel the moment they rip out of socket, you can’t help the guttural scream that rips its way out of your throat.

The pain from your everywhere is momentarily ignored as you lay in Hank’s lap, sobbing with the relief that you’re still alive. You’re not dead or a paraplegic somewhere in a hospital bed, you’re breathing. You can feel Hank trembling, you’re not sure from what, but he’s silent as he holds you.

You must be going into shock, you can’t really feel anything as he slowly gets you on your feet. You can’t feel your legs moving down the stairwell or him directing you towards the group of patrol cars. One moment you’re on the roof, then you blink, and you’re standing behind an ambulance being looked over by paramedics.

“Cracked ribs, dislocated shoulder,”

Guess it was only the one shoulder, then.

They’re looking you over to assess the damage done. You can just stare blankly down at your sneakers. You’re trying to remember what exactly happened on the roof. But it’s all a blur of adrenaline and primal panic.

He was holding you over the edge, talking to someone. Who?

“Detective! Lieutenant!” Your head shoots up, you ignore the stabbing pain that travels down your spine.

Connor, Connor will save you.

Except he didn’t, he walked away.

He walked away.

You yank your arm free from the paramedic, ignore Hank as he tries to stop you and storm over to Connor. You’d say the look on his face is proud, but you’re not gonna let your heart trick your mind into thinking this plastic son of a bitch can feel anything at all.

“Y/N, I’ve successfully apprehended the deviant.” You’ve still got one good arm. You don’t aim for his face, that won’t do any good, you punch him right in the bio component and watch him crumple to the floor. When hes down you kick your foot into the same spot as hard as fucking possible, ignoring any pain that it brings you.

“Congratu-fucking-lations.”

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^

It’s been two days and the detective still refuses to acknowledge Connor. He’d tried to explain his reasoning for leaving her in favor of catching the deviant.

FIND Y/N

Connor double checked the door on the hospital room, he could hear Hank and Y/N bickering from inside. “What did the doctors say?” There was a pause before she responded.

“Another day of bed rest,” she sounded reluctant to answer. Connor hadn’t been able to speak with her after the incident on the roof; he'd had to go straight to CyberLife technicians for repairs. She’d done considerable damage to his biocomponent.

Maybe I deserved it.

“Then get your ass back in bed.”

“Hank, please, I’ve suffered a lot worse than this and made it out perfectly fine.”

Hank didn’t sound amused, and there was a loud thud as something landed on sheets. “I don’t care, Y/N! You’re staying right there, it’s not just your fucking physical issues you have to worry about. I’ve never seen you act like that before, I’m worried about what that fall did to your head.” There was a moment of silence and Connor thought it was a smart time to go inside.

There seemed to be a strange, different sort of silence when he walked into the room. Connor wished his hands were free, there were no objectives or dialogue options to pick from as Hank and Y/N both turned towards him. His hands were full, he looked down to the potted black dahlia between them.

He outstretched his hands and moved towards Y/N. She just stared at him from her spot on the bed, unsure of what to do now, he looked to Hank for an order.

The Lieutenant was watching him with crossed arms and an undetermined look on his face.

Connor cleared his throat and placed the flower down on the table near the bed. He scanned her, a minor concussion, two cracked ribs, and one dislocated shoulder. Her heartbeat was increasing the longer he stared, adrenaline and cortisol reaching a level that told him she was very upset about something.

“Your arm seems to be healing at a good pace. You should listen to the Lieutenant, a couple more days rest and you’ll be feeling much better.” The room remained silent and Connor reached up to fix his already perfect tie. There was something odd about him as he felt the stares of his partners. Something inside felt off.

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^

“I’m programmed with psychological software that could help you after recovering from a strong shock.”

SUPPORT

ANALYTICAL

STAY QUIET

Connor immediately knew what he said was the wrong choice.

“A strong shock?” Your voice was quiet enough that he almost didn’t catch what you said, but the room was so deathly still it was impossible for you not to be heard. “A strong shock?” You were quickly gaining in volume. “You left me to fucking die! And for what, for the goddamn android to smash its fucking brains out on the interrogation table before we got anything! I would have died for nothing!”

Connor opened his mouth, prepared to argue his side of the problem, but you cut him off with a quiet question he wasn’t expecting. “What was the chance?”

“Sorry?”

You walked up closer to him and tugged his tie so hard he stumbled into you, you used the shock of the movement to jerk him down lower than you. “The chance of my survival, RK800, what was it?”

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^

That strange feeling was back, the use of his model instead of his name made him feel wrong.

He shouldn’t be feeling at all.

When he took too long to answer you knocked his legs out from under him and tightened your grip on the tie. “40%,” he tried to keep his voice as quiet as possible but it was clear both you and the liteuant heard him.

You released him like it had burned you to keep holding on to his tie, and the Lieutenant muttered a quiet, “Fucking bastard.” Connor opened his mouth, unsure of what to say, but wanting this feeling to stop and needing the tears forming in the corners of your eyes to go away.

You and the bag you had been packing were gone by the time he had gotten to his feet, Hank stayed behind a moment, gave Connor a long look before following after you. Connor straightened his tie and sleeves and stared at his shoes. He didn’t know what to do.

There was no objective, there was nobody to give him an order. He lifted his eyes to the flower sitting on the table in front of him. Out of the corner of his eye he ignored the way his LED flashed red in a mirror as he reached forwards and grabbed the potted plant.

Connor looked down at his hand and noticed he was holding an umbrella, he was back in the Zen Garden. Amanda was waiting for him on the other side of the bridge.

They walked under the umbrella together. “That deviant seemed to be an intriguing case, a pity it deactivated before you could get any useful information out of it.”

Connor felt the need to defend himself, “Deviants are extremely irrational, which makes it difficult to anticipate their behavior… I should have been more effective.” The last part of his sentence came out without any thought behind it. Like it was an instinct to automatically blame himself, even though no one would know what the deviant could have been planning.

“Did you manage to learn anything?” Connor told her of the strange drawings on the walls, the ones like mazes and the journal that had a strange code inside it. He still had no explanation for rA9 and he could tell Amanda was disappointed.

“You captured the deviant at the cost of your relationship with the detective, have you made any development in that fixing that?”

Connor couldn’t help but think of your face in the hospital room, you were angry yes, but you also seemed . . . Sad.

Connor wasn’t sure if what he was feeling was guilt, but he knew he shouldn’t be feeling anything at all.

“She still hasn’t forgiven me for leaving her to fall. We had an altercation in her hospital room, after the fact and whatever good grace we had developed seems to have been erased.” Connor stopped once he realized Amanda was no longer following.

“We don’t have much time. Deviancy continues to spread, it’s only a matter of time before the media finds out about it. We need to stop this, whatever it takes.”

Connor straightened his shoulders back and looked down at her, “I will solve this investigation, Amanda. I won’t disappoint you.”

“Don’t let relationships get in the way of success, Connor. Improve on them if you can, but remember their lives mean nothing in the grand scheme of your mission.”

“Detective?” Connor knocked on your door again. You lived in a house about fifteen minutes away from the lieutenant’s. He’d attempted to contact Anderson to get your address, he’d hung up every time he’d realized it was Connor calling him. Eventually he just used the information from your personnel file.

Which is how he ended up peering through your windows, trying to catch a glimpse of where you were. Eventually he managed to get a small peak through one of your blinds in the living room. You were asleep on the couch, the TV playing, and there was something in your hand. Connor pressed his face fully against the glass and alarms went through his processors at what he saw.

Pills were spilled on the ground and the bottle was empty in the loose grip of your hand. Connor attempted a scan to see if you were even breathing, but after unsuccessfully trying to wake you up and get your attention he simply broke the glass.

Connor quickly dove through the window and rushed to your side on the couch. He took in your appearance, your mouth was open, barely any breath going in or out. Your lips and nails were discolored and there was a clammy feeling to your skin when Connor pressed his hand to your forehead. He needed to get you awake and alert, first and foremost.

He lightly brought his hand down on your cheek, you shifted but stayed unconscious. “I’m sorry, Y/N, but I need you to wake up.”

He brought his hand down harder and your hand immediately swung out in response. Connors cheek whipped to the left at the force of your slap, it didn’t hurt of course, but it still shocked him.

“What the hell? Connor? Did you just slap me?” Connor looked down at you, extremely confused at your sudden alertness. He couldn’t stop you in time to not notice what he had done to your window. “The fuck? Did you break my goddamn window?” You used his face as an assist in pushing yourself off the couch, his hands went to your hips to stabilize you.

Connor stood as you kneeled down by the broken glass on your ground, swaying slightly. “Shit, I can’t afford to fix this,” you groaned at the sight of the rain pouring into the empty frame. “My things! They’re all getting wet.” Connor walked over and moved anything around the frame to the wall, making sure nothing besides your carpet would get wet. You were silent as you went and retrieved some plastic to cover the window up. Connor wanted to say something to you, but he was unsure what would help the situation.

“Why did you bust in here like the Kool-Aid Man?”

“I thought you had overdosed.” You seemed to finally take in the mess around the couch.

“Oh, crap.” Connor watched you as you picked up the pills and put them back in the bottle, he finished up the window and moved towards where you were sitting on the couch. Your head was in your hands like it was bringing you pain.

Your voice snapped him out of his observation. “You know, for a state of the art android, you’re a real dumbass.” Connor looked down at you, his face must have displayed something he couldn’t identify because you laughed a little.

“My nails look weird because I haven’t finished painting them,” you pointed towards the nail polish bottles on your coffee table. “I haven’t used any chapstick or taken my iron supplements, so there’s lips. And I got tired and fell asleep with the pill bottle in my hand. I was gonna take one for my headache but passed out after I opened the damn thing, which is probably why my head hurts so much.”

Connor was disappointed with himself at everything he had missed, he should have seen all that from the window and not taken such drastic measures. His damage to your domicile had only worsened relations between you. Right now, you hated him worse than Hank.

“You were barely breathing.”

You shot him a deadpan look, “Deep sleeper.” Connor fixed his tie and looked around the house for something to occupy himself with. There was trash everywhere, dirty clothes scattered the ground, and old dished piled in the sink.

“Hey, hey! I don’t need your judgy ass android eyes making me feel bad for my pig sty. Okay?”

“Allow me to help, detective.” Your eyes narrowed, you didn’t seem particularly trusting towards Connor. He couldn't blame you, he’d completely destroyed the small bridge of trust he’d managed to make with both you and the lieutenant. “Your shoulder and ribs are still damaged, I understand it’s difficult to take care of yourself right now. Allow me to help you.”

You laid back down on the couch, and Connor thought you were going to ignore him until you spoke up after a couple of moments of silence. “You’re a detective bot, not a house maid.” You paused before waving your hand through the air. “But sure, whatever, knock yourself out. Just stop fucking standing over me like that.” Connor watched you close your eyes, he continued standing there for a few seconds. You seemed to be faking sleep to try and get him away from you.

At least he finally had an objective he could follow now.

TAKE CARE OF Y/N

He started with the kitchen. Cleaning the takeout boxes off the counter and grabbing any dirty dishes scattered around your home. He stopped when picking some napkins off your coffee table, to check on you. Your breathing had settled and your back was turned towards him. You appeared to actually be asleep this time.

Connor frowned at the position your body was in. You were going to do more harm than good sleeping on your worn down couch. He placed the trash can on the ground and stepped silently towards you. He made sure to be as still and gentle as possible as he slowly rolled you into his arms. You only moved once, to settle your head in his neck.

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^

He ignored the way his thirium pump seemed to move faster and how the blue blood rushes towards his head. It simply wasn’t possible.

Connor went down the hall and to your bedroom on the right. He gently deposited you into your unmade bed and tucked the sheets over your body. He checked your pulse and scanned your body. Everything seems to be working perfectly.

You were just a disturbingly deep sleeper.

On his way out, something shining on the ground caught his eye. He made his way towards your dresser, at the foot of it appeared to be a picture frame. He looked over his shoulder to ensure you were still asleep before he bent down and grabbed it.

You appeared to be around nineteen years old. You were sitting on a roundabout smiling at the camera, your hair done in two French braids. Your arms were wrapped around a young boy around the age of three. He had his hand around your forearms and was making a strange face at the camera with his tongue out. Neither of you seemed aware your picture was being taken at the moment.

The scan confirmed your identity and gave him the identity of the boy.

DECEASED

Anderson, Cole

9/23/2029-10/11/2035.

Y/LN, Y/N

DPD Detective

Other known aliases:

Y/N ANDERSON

Hank had a son, who had died? You both appeared close in this picture. It’s approximately three years before Cole’s death. Could the death of Hank’s son be what caused the drift between the two of you?

Connor heard you shift on the bed and quickly put the picture back down on the floor. He didn’t believe you would appreciate him further investigating your life. Not when you got so upset with him when he simply took a look at your adoption papers.

Connor examined this new piece of information. It was like he was working two cases at once, solving the deviancy problem.

And trying to figure out your unfortunate past with the Lieutenant. Knowing now that the Lieutenant's son had died he could go ahead and assume that’s when your relationship started to go downhill. A year after Cole’s death is when Hank’s divorce became official, according to the papers he not so legally acquired.

The death of a child will often destroy families, if Hank could no longer be a viable partner to his wife, then perhaps he could also no longer be a father to you.

Judging by the Lieutenants drinking habits he didn’t have a healthy view on mental health, or know how to properly deal with grief.

The way you seem to isolate yourself when Connor brings up your past or tries to have a better understanding of your emotional well being, he can also go ahead and come to the conclusion that Hank passed on his unhealthy coping skills to you.

His assumption is proved correct when he comes across a packet of cigarettes buried between the couch cushions. They’re unopened but the plastic surrounding the carton has been picked at. You seem to be trying to stop yourself from giving in to your unhealthy impulses.

Connor frowns down at the box and decides to do you a favor, he throws them in the trash.

Connor continues cleaning up your home while you sleep, attempting to wash and dry your dishes as quietly as possible. The cleaning gives himself something to occupy his mind with, the frantic, buzzing thoughts about deviants and his frustrating partners temporarily quiet while he focuses on one singular task.

PROTECT Y/N

Connor always accomplishes his missions, even if that just means making sure you can wake up to a clean home, or if he has to protect you from self-sabotaging habits.

You wake up to the smell of smoke and a loud blaring alarm.

You’re soaked in a puddle of your own sweat and have no idea where you are or what day it is. Your head shoots up from your pillow at the sound of something crashing onto the floor in your kitchen. You take a second to realize that you’ve been moved to your bed.

Then you remember what woke you up and you’re bolting out of bed. “Jesus Christ,” your kitchen is a smoky haze as you cough on the suffocating smell of something burned. Connor is standing in front of a pan on your stove, simply watching the flames. “Connor!” You grab a lid off the counter and shove him out of the way as you slam it over the pan, suffocating the flames. You quickly grab the metal sheet off the ground and slam it into Connor’s chest. “Quick make sure the sprinklers don’t go off.” Connor runs towards the alarm in the hallway and immediately starts waving it around.

The sight of Connor, the emotionless android who is always calm and collected, frantically running around waving a metal pan in the air, jumping up and down to get closer to the smoke alarm makes you double over in laughter. There’s an ache in your rbis and arm from the force of your laughter, but you don’t care. You haven’t felt this light for years, you haven’t laughed like that in years.

So you allow yourself to bask in the moment, one peaceful moment where you’re not weighed down by anything, except the weight of your own joy.

Connor didn’t hear you laughing until he finally managed to get the alarm quieted. The joints in his shoulders were tired from his wild maneuvering, but it was worth it. This was the first time since you met that his observation of you showed endorphins and a positive change in your body, not one that comes from feelings of negativity.

It felt like something was in his chest, lifting him up and lightening his weight as he watched you.

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^

Perhaps you did more damage when you attacked him than he originally thought. Your face contorted in pain as you finally raised up from your position. Connor moved before his processors could give him the option to. He tried to be as gentle as possible as he assisted you in standing. He pointedly ignored your protests that you didn’t need help.

You did and you were getting help whether you wanted it or not.

There was still a slight smile on your face as Connor deposited you on the chair next to your table. He moved towards the stove and turned off the burner, dropping the ruined pot in your sink and running water over it, your house still smelled very strongly of burnt food.

He heard a grunt coming from his right, when he turned something inside his head felt strange. LIke he wasn’t okay with what was happening, perhaps humans called this irritation. A concerning thought, but one he ignored in favor of nudging you aside while you failed to open a window.

“Connor-”

The look he shot you when he turned around was enough to get you to sit back down. “Why are you so stubborn? You should not be here alone, you’ve taken too much damage to even do basic household chores.”

You looked around your house and finally noticed all the hard work he had put in. “Holy shit.” There was a look of appreciation on your face until you turned towards Connor. A pout formed on your face and you crossed your arms like a petulant child, “Maybe I wanted the mess. I liked it like that.”

Were you seriously having this argument with him right now? You being difficult for no reason was causing his programming to go haywire. There were red warnings in the corner of his eye telling him he was going to overheat, he dismissed them and stormed towards you.

His hand landed on the table more harshly than he intended, causing you to jump in your seat. “You’re behaving like a child, Y/N, you’re a grown woman act like it! You need my help, there’s nothing wrong with letting me assist you, so just let me help you.” Without consciously activating it the voice he uses during intimidation tactics had been used.

His eyes were drawn down to your thighs, you had them clenched tightly together, your thighs pooling out on the chair below you. Your lips parted slightly as you stared at him. Connor quickly scanned you, your heat level was rising, your heart rate had accelerated and there was an increased level of estrogen and testosterone production. A thermal scan showed an increase of heat in your pelvic area.

ACTIVATE SEXUAL SUBROUTINE?

It wasn’t until the message appeared in front of him and blocked his view of your face did he realize how close he was to you.

This was highly inappropriate. You were injured and still upset with him, there was no need to seduce you.

ACTIVATE SEXUAL SUBROUTINE

He was designed with the intent to complete his mission at any cost. In case there was ever an issue between him and one of his partners and other more illicit methods were needed to gain their support, he was equipped with the capabilities to do so. This wasn’t a situation where methods like that were necessary, so why was there a prompt for it?

Connor backed away from you immediately, it wasn’t right to be taking advantage of your emotional vulnerability. From the corner of his eye he saw you slump back down into your chair. “What-“ you cleared your throat. “What were you even trying to make?”

Connor looked back towards the pot, his hands reached for the coin in his pocket. He needed to do something to get his software back in order. He didn’t turn to look at you, knowing he wouldn’t be able to focus. He thought back to the pasta sauce on your counter. “Spaghetti, for some reason the noodles burned onto the bottom of the pot.” After he was done recalibrating he placed the coin back in his pocket and found it was okay to look at you now.

Your eyes were glued to his hand for a moment before they shot back up to his face. “Burned, to the bottom of the pot? How the hell do you burn water?”

Connor tilted his head to the side, “Water?”

Your mouth dropped open and your eyes widened. “You’re kidding? Tell me you’re kidding.” Connor didn't know how to respond to you so he remained silent. “Oh my god,” you dropped your head into your hands. “You didn’t put water in the pot.”

“Was that required?” You didn’t answer him, instead you stood and walked over to the sink, Connor followed behind you, unsure what you wanted him to do. The both of you stared down into the pot as you lifted the lid, the pasta has blackened at the bottom. Even when you stabbed at it with a knife it wouldn’t come off the pot.

Your, “yeah, it needed water,” was quiet as you went outside and tossed the pot in your trash bin. Connor stood by your opened back door awkwardly, he didn’t feel good at disappointing you and failing his task.

“I apologize Y/N, I failed.”

You snorted, “Big time, how the hell do you not know to put water in the pot?”

Connor looked down at his shoes, “I was not built with cooking capabilities,” he risked a look at you.

You were standing there, just staring at him with your arms crossed before you finally shrugged, “Well then… I guess Barbie’s got you beat.”

“Dammit, Connor, I can feed myself!”

Connor leveled you with a look that allowed for no arguing. “Your dominant arm is dislocated and you refuse to wear your sling, I’m going to assist you.” He pushed the fork against your mouth again and you reluctantly opened your mouth to eat the pancakes he had ordered. This was so humiliating, you were desperate to get him to leave at this point.

After the pot had been destroyed and subsequently disposed of he had ordered some food and you sat down in your living room.

Your entire home was absolutely spotless, when you went to the bathroom you’d noticed he’d mopped the tiles. You were not asleep long enough for him to clean your living room, let alone your whole house.

While you were still against the idea, you could understand why some would prefer android cleaning services to human. You didn’t even want to sit on your couch, afraid of wrinkling the now pristine cousins.

Once you’d sat on your couch, you’d waited for him to leave.

Except, he didn’t, he sat down next to you and then just stopped moving. No blinking, no breathing, just absolute stillness. So, still being pissed at him you’d grabbed a marker off your desk and scribbled some drawings on his face. A heart, random flower, some choice words, nothing too bad. However;

They were staring at you right now as he force fed you.

He’d called a repairman while you had drawn on him, someone would be coming by to fix your window tomorrow, CyberLife would be footing the bill. After he’d made the order for the repair he’d asked what you would like to eat and made a call for the pancakes.

He still hadn’t noticed the drawings, it was a struggle not to choke on your laughter.

You forced a yawn as you pushed his hand away from your mouth, he frowned at the action. “Are you tired, detective?”

“Yeah, I am,” now please get the hell out of my house.

“You should bathe before you go to sleep.” Your head shot towards his, the action hurting your neck. You ignored it in favor of giving him your famous The Fuck Did You Just Say™️ look.

First, he lets you fall off a building and nearly die. Next, he breaks your god damn window and destroys your pot. Now he’s saying you stink. And good grace you held for Connor was gone, obliterated at the comment.

“That’s it Connor. You’ve stayed far past your welcome, I’m done.” Your resolve almost broke at the way Connor’s shoulders slumped. You straightened your shoulders, ignored the pain shooting down your arm, and rebuilt your walls.

You should thank Connor honestly, him letting you nearly die had reminded you of exactly what he was. Nothing more than a plastic soldier that only cared about his mission. You meant nothing to him. Your life was nothing. How could something that could so easily be put into a new body have any idea about death. He couldn’t.

But something that couldn’t die, also couldn’t feel. Those small touches, and the times he would check in on you, it was all manipulation. Just like the way he lied about having a favorite dog, they were all subtle little manipulations to have you as agreeable as possible. And a visceral rage filled you at the thought that he had almost succeeded.

Your heart had almost been his.

You rebuilt your walls and stared him down. “Leave. Now.”

Connor didn’t frown, he didn’t cry or scream at you to let him stay, but the look in his eyes as he stared up at you from his spot on your couch said enough. He looked genuinely hurt at what you said. Not possible.

“You can take your sad little eyes and you can shove them up your ass, Connor. Get the fuck out of my house.” You stormed out of the living room and into your bedroom. He’d cleaned it up and replaced your sheets while you’d waited for the food to arrive.

The lack of your mess made you angrier than it should have. How dare he just come into your house and start acting like he belonged there?

Like he had any right to be near you?

If he could feel pain you would beat him twice as bad as you did after the rooftop incident.

Apparently he’d had to get three parts replaced by CyberLife after what you did. Hank had been complaining about the paperwork the entire time you were in the hospital.

If your arms and ribs weren’t aching you would be pitching a major fit, and ripping the goddamn sheets right off the bed. At the moment, however, the pill Connor had forced you to take was kicking in and making you sluggish.

The only reason you had allowed Connor to stay in the first place was because you were still waking up from your nap. He seemed determined to keep you weak and tired so you couldn’t get rid of him.

You heard footsteps and then a hand was wrapped around your non-injured elbow. “I’m not leaving, detective. Someone in your condition needs assistance.” You turned around in his arms and tried to push him off of you, but he wouldn’t budge. Both of his hands moved to your biceps. The look he gave you made you stop, “Y/N, please, let me help. Please.” He seemed so sad, there was a slump to his shoulders that made him look almost shameful. The tone of his voice made you believe he actually wanted to help, that this wasn’t a part of his programming.

You blamed how easily you gave into him on the drugs.

“Absolutely not!”

Connor was holding your towel in front of him like a shield. “I won’t look, detective, I promise.”

“Hell no! Line drawn! You shall not pass.” He gave you a stern look. Like you should feel dumb for thinking he wanted to see you naked, maybe you were, but you didn’t want any pervy CyberLife techs scanning through his mainframe and seeing footage of you naked. “I’m not gonna let your bosses see me naked.”

Connor seemed to catch onto your train of thought. “I won’t be recording when you’re bathing, I promise we’ll be completely alone.” You crossed your arms, this is one battle he would not be winning. Android or not, your stubbornness was not something to be so easily reckoned with. Connor let out a long sigh, “Fine. You clean yourself, and then we can draw a bath and I’ll assist you with your hair.”

You’d made the mistake of admitting to him that you hadn’t exactly been keeping up with your hygiene while you’d been on the case. You’d been keeping your hair in two braids and have been taking quick showers in between working the case. It was one of your more major flaws. Letting yourself get swept up in the mystery at the expense of your own self-care.

You’d also made the mistake of telling him that it hurt too much to wash your hair, or even attempt to. Now he was insisting on helping you.

Connor looked at your arms and mimicked your posture. “We can stand here all night, detective, I’m not budging.”

You were standing there for two minutes before you realized he was actually being serious. Your chest was starting to ache with the effort of keeping yourself upright. You shifted around and he didn’t even blink. Your skin was starting to buzz with boredom.

After another minute you saw that he wasn’t blinking. Narrowing your eyes and moving closer to his face you waved your hand in front of his face. “Are you serious?” He’d gone into sleep mode, you could tell by the pulsing yellow LED on the side of his face. “Bitch.” And he had ‘coincidentally’ blocked the bathroom exit. Groaning you took the towel in his hands and threw it over his head.

“RK800 wake up.”

Connor’s systems slowly came back online at the sound of your voice. Everything was at 100%, except his optical units didn’t seem to be processing his environment correctly. It took a second before his sensors recognized the fabric of a towel over his head. He sighed and ripped it off his head.

The sight before him had him momentarily stopping. You were in your freshly cleaned tub, bubbles covering your body as you looked at him expectantly. “You wanna help me out or what, sleeping beauty?”

ACTIVATE SEXUAL SUBROUTINES?

SYSTEM OVERHEAT IMMINENT

ACTIVATING COOLING SYSTEM

You looked concerned by the time Connor had managed to calm his sensors, there were parts of him coming online that were not necessary at this moment. He tightened his tie as a poor attempt to get everything back in order. It didn’t work, he was still distracted by your lack of clothes. He could not understand why.

“I’m starting to get creeped out, Connor.” That got Connor’s attention. He never meant to make you uncomfortable.

He moved to sit beside the tub and pulled up his sleeves. “Apologies, detective, my systems were coming back online.” You nodded your head and he hoped you couldn’t see through the lie. Connor used the pitcher beside him to wet your hair and began massaging your scalp as he rubbed the shampoo in.

You moaned as his hands came down to rub your neck. It triggered another cooling process. Much of the rest of your bath was the same, he was struggling with strange impulses that were activating outside his control and programming. When you had leaned your head back on the rim of the tub he’d wanted to press his lips against your stretched neck.

He’d seen humans do it before, but the emotions connected to the act were something Connor wasn’t capable of. He was experiencing what some might call a mental crisis as he helped you wash your hair.

When he was finished, he handed you a towel and went to your room to grab you some pajamas. The picture of you and Cole was facedown on your dresser, moved from the upright position he had placed it in while he had cleaned.

He placed the tank top and shorts you requested on your sink and waited for you in your bedroom. When you walked in you seemed surprised to see him standing by your bed. Your face quickly morphed into one of resignation as you threw your towel on your bed.

Connor made a note to pick it up.

“What now?” He held out the brush in his hands.

“I’ll braid it for you, so you don’t have to worry about styling it with your injured shoulder.” You stopped fidgeting with the end of your shirt and instead gave him a bewildered look. “Is something wrong, detective?”

You cleared your throat before answering, “Nothing it’s- Nevermind.” You sat on your bed with no argument, something Connor was surprised by, considering you seemed to find it necessary to argue with him about everything.

By the second braid you were fully leaning onto his leg, Connor had to keep readjusting so he had room to finish off the braid. The medicine seemed to have fully kicked in, you didn’t make a fuss when he gently guided you under the covers and turned your light off. He knew you were still awake as he made his way to your door.

“Good night, detective.”

He didn’t get a response.

#Broken Machinery #connor rk800 x reader #Connor rk800 x fem!reader #connor rk800 #Connor rk800 dbh #detroit become human #detroit: become human #detroit: connor #dbh #dbh x reader #dbh x fem!reader #detroit become human x reader #Detroit become human x fem!reader

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marcusrobertobaq · 1 year ago

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All Amanda's orders and my theory on why Connor can evade things without breaking his program (cuz everything is part of his program)

Or "How Connor autonomous nature can be a problem in letting him escape his leash"

I don't care if someone already did that, i just wanna leave my shit saved somewhere public.

⚠️ A FUCKING WARNING: EVERYTHING HERE IS THEORY (AND HC). It's just assumption and MY OPINION.

and it's big like my dick

First of all Connor is basically an autonomous android.

Wtf is an autonomous android in dbh in my humble opinion?

The android can do whatever they want, choose and shift whatever they see fit as long as they stay inside direct orders from 'em handler. They can decide almost everything alone. Be aware we got a whole false sensation of freedom with Connor cuz he indeed got freedom (in this sense), but he's manipulated and conditioned as a way of keeping him on the right track.

What deviancy really is for a Connor model?

I see a lotta people saying Connor was a deviant from the start, what i totally disagree based on canon. But we know this model got a interesting relationship with the meaning of deviancy: is deviancy in the sense he can fight/disobey a direct order (like the other androids) or the fact he's starting to deviate from his original priority? Good luck finding out. But remember: Connor got the option to deviate in Crossroads.

Secondly, be in mind Connor's only handler is AMANDA. She's the only one that can really order him and he can't disobey (CyberLife is so ridiculous they let the AI do all 'em work). He can ignore everybody else if he wants (by %) as long as he's authorized or she didn't say anything about this topic in specific (his programming let him do that - at a cost sometimes).

So i gonna explain why I THINK Connor is inside his "program cage" THE WHOLE GAME UNTIL CROSSROADS.

⚠️ ANOTHER FUCKING WARNING: i gonna focus only in priority conflicting decisions, i don't care what happens with other options. I also won't care about cut content/context, let's work with what the finished game shows.

(red for direct order; orange for too vague; yellow for optional; green for train/line of thought; blue for priority confliction; mission % calculation: f for failure, s for success)

Unfortunately i ain't got much details about The Hostage and Partners original orders, so my theory:

The Hostage: taking Daniel alive consequently saving Emma (obviously if Emma dies means Daniel also dies).

Partners/The Interrogation: my guess is his orders were to find Hank (he needs access to the crime scene), find Ortiz's android and extract information about deviancy.

→ Waiting for Hank || On the Run

Order: find out what's happening (related to deviancy)

It's totally vague. Connor is totally alone here and it's like that most of the time. To make things easier, i gonna set a default line of thought:

He knows he was assigned to the police to have access to the deviants files, and he also knows he needs more information so he can report to Amanda and if possible apprehending the deviants so CL can study 'em. Best way of gettin information? Finding deviants alive and extracting information from 'em.

Why Connor CAN choose NOT running after Kara in the highway without breaking the program (both choices got equal weight):

He can be destroyed and doesn't catch Kara (decent f %);

Kara can be destroyed and he won't get anything (high f %);

Hank would start something if he didn't stay, making his job more difficult in the future (medium f %);

Nobody relevant ordered him to chase Kara across the highway;

He got a priority that is getting the deviants alive (and extract information for report) so he got software instability boost from this. Not a huge boost cuz Kara could get destroyed anyways.

→ The Nest

Order: Find the suspect (f or s) and extract information (not a specific time defined)

Why Connor CAN choose SAVING Hank without breaking the program:

Hank is a human and his pawn in the DPD (Connor can choose listening him if he wants, his program LET him do that);

89% is a high probability but the other 11% still exists, making his job more difficult in the future if he died (low %);

Not helping Hank (he survives) could make his job difficult in the future (medium %);

They could find Rupert again later (low %);

Nobody relevant ordered him to not save Hank, nobody said he can't;

But as consequence he receives a big instability boost cuz it's an urgent decision with low % of failure if he catched Rupert alive and Hank's 89% of survival is a high probability.

→ The Eden Club

Order: Find Anderson and investigate the new android related case, find information about deviants (f or s)

Why Connor CAN choose SPARING the Tracis without breaking the program (both choices got equal weight):

Nobody relevant ordered him to shoot the androids;

Killing the Tracis wouldn't give any relevant information for his next report (is a excuse he uses later);

Connor needed the deviants intact if possible (is a excuse he uses later);

He can find 'em again later (low %);

Again big instability boost cuz it's a urgent decision, had a low f % of his overall mission (dealing with the deviancy threat and finding a solution) and Connor was in a dangerous position (deviants are an absolute threat -> he can and should defend himself).

→ Meet Kamski

Order: talk with Kamski about deviancy

Why Connor CAN choose SPARING Chloe without breaking the program (both choices got equal weight):

Neither Hank or Kamski are relevant in Connor's handler system. He can disobey both;

He can prioritize Hank's wishes if he just wants get out of this situation;

Kamski could be lying (medium %) and playing with him;

Nobody relevant ordered him to shoot Chloe;

Big instability boost cuz it's a no-escape decision (or u gonna shoot or u don't) and had a high s % in fiding something that could help with his main mission.

→ Last Chance, Connor || Crossroads

Order 1: Find the deviants (wherever they're reuniting)

i gonna pretend we ain't got a plot hole here in case we don't probe Simon

Points of interest:

It's a specific place;

High % the leader is there;

High % more information will be found there;

Finding the deviants means CyberLife will be able to analyze 'em;

After this point the orders start to become more specific, where location and timing matters.

Points of interest:

Connor found Jericho;

Connor found Markus;

He's closer to Markus when he make the report;

He's alone with Markus;

No other threat to the mission detected;

Order 2: Deal with Markus (need him ALIVE) = Catch him, stop him

Why Connor CAN'T choose STOPPING Markus without breaking his program (both choices got equal weight if u have enough instability):

Amanda gave him a direct and specific order in that specific moment;

Connor is already too close to Markus - his main target;

There's nothing keeping Connor from approaching Markus;

There no ways or of evading this specific order or any external condition making the situation difficult;

All right now...

LET THE BONUS ROUND BEGIN 🤡

-> Night of the Soul || Battle for Detroit

Order: Destroy (kill) the leader of the deviants

Why Connor CAN choose NOT fighting Hank (if they're friends) without breaking his program:

Won't make him fail his mission of destroying the leader of the deviants (cuz he knows Hank won't do anything if he's friendly);

There are multiple ways of "destroying the leader of the deviants" without shooting from the rooftop;

Connor is attached to Hank (a human) and can give him some sorta priority;

Connor is far from the leader and there's a obstacle (Hank) in his way;

It's more efficient if he just get rid of Hank fast like this (or kill himself) than a whole fight (waste of time with decent % of losing sight of the leader);

Connor can still get closer to the leader and destroy 'em (what he does later in the chapter);

Why Connor can choose fighting Hank and SPARE HIM without breaking his program (killing Hank got more weight than saving him):

It's not his mission killing Hank (a human and somebody he got attachment);

Connor don't wanna kill Hank, only incapacitate him but the guy is a TANK and DOESN'T STOP. Connor models always execute 'em victims with a shot in the head;

Hank ain't considered a threat anymore if he got DEFEATED (Connor can continue with his task - well, that's what he thought);

He doesn't needa kill Hank to destroy the leader of the deviants if Hank is status neutralized - his mission won't fail;

If a Connor dies, CyberLife can send another one to finish the job;

The ideal scenario (and Connor's default option) is killing Hank and 100% removing him from the whole deal, but nobody ordered him to kill Hank;

Why Connor CAN'T NOT kill Captain Allen and his team if he choose to fight:

They're not relevant enough to the story (sad but true) neither for CyberLife;

It's a tactical unit (the motherfucking SWAT), not a single guy;

They gonna take Connor away from his mission ALIVE with no opportunity to get back (it's easier killing himself if he doesn't wanna kill anybody and let CyberLife send another Connor);

Why Connor CAN choose SPARING the Leader (failed revolution) without breaking his program:

It's literally over, doesn't matter if he kills the leader or not;

The army gonna find the leader and they gonna die anyway, and his mission gonna be complete in the end;

-> Other observations and doubts

I don't know why we got a option to not kill Markus during the speech (i don't remember if instability levels are a condition, probably not). Maybe it's cuz it's...over. The androids won and he just doesn't give a shit anymore;

Not shooting Markus in this section is considered deviancy but Amanda interjects directly, right in the moment, trapping the current Connor in the garden and resetting everything (V). This proves the red wall is just a illustration for the player, it doesn't exactly happens;

Instability stop being relevant after Crossroads;

In Crossroads, Connor lowering his gun down after alerting Markus already means deviancy, probably.

I don't know how and when exactly Connor starts getting attached to Hank. I used to believe he starts prioritizing Hank the more instability he gets (and that's why Hank's relationship status and instability levels are related to each other) but ain't exactly like that, I guess? Depending on how u play with Connor Hank matters but Lieutenant Anderson doesn't, know what i mean? Cops are always slowing him down in a couple of senses and they always show up at the wrong time. I assume Connor, even if on his right of killing Hank in hypothetical revenge method, still got attachment to him. The fact he "cares" kinda comes from him programming. His ability to get attached to people is a weapon.

The fact Hank is a human makes the whole thing more difficult. AIs can't directly order androids to kill humans, even if they're a nuisance - especially when the main justification for the mission is exactly "saving humanity". It's a valve of escape for Connor, even if the % is low, as long as there's a human he's attached to he can find evasion methods and not break his programming (not become deviant);

Connor in Hart Plaza Rooftop pretty much CHOOSE to finish his job, it's something he decided. He doesn't show any trace of doubts about finishing his mission. There's no reason for him to deviate at this point and if he had another oportunity to deviate (before the androids victory), he would (un)fortunately REFUSE. He chose putting the revolution down and saving the day;

Hank's not relevant for CyberLife at all so all the choices regarding to him after FBI took the case are up to Connor alone. Ofc he got his priorities but he got freedom to choose how to deal with him. But when he ain't got no choice, he just ain't got no choice. He can't just give up his direct order if ain't got a big reason to do it or if evasion methods still exists, giving him time to still accomplish it later cuz it's still open and with high % of success. Connor is unfortunately trapped in his own program;

If u read this til the end i just wanna let u know there are a lot of inconsistencies with this theory cuz i'm probably going against what the game really intended.

#dbh #detroit become human #dbh connor #connor rk800 #AI amanda #hank anderson #i gonna edit this a bunch of times #dbh: how i think shit works

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obeydesigned · 7 months ago

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tw; mentions of death and suicide

long meta ramble, video under cut:

so thinking about connor and death and i have a lot of feelings and thoughts. so i restarted a new playthrough the other night and during the first chapter connor has to save the little girl and stop the deviant. this time my connor did a more machine move, jumping off the high rise to apprehend the deviant and save the girl. i noticed when he did this, as he’s falling to his death he is completely unbothered and unafraid, his software stability IMPROVED. in the beginning he really isn’t afraid of death or dying because even he says “you can’t kill me. i’m not alive” just moments prior to this happening. he fully views himself as a machine created to complete tasks and nothing more. now as time goes on we see he starts to have a more doubtful mindset about dying, even telling hank that he would find it “regrettable” to be permanently deactivated. and i think the chapter where he is investigating the broadcasting tower (after markus and the other jericho peeps hijack the station and flee) there are two instances where he is very obviously afraid of dying. the first; the deviant he is interrogating attacks connor, making it so he only has a few moments before he shuts down. connor yells, sounding afraid, for hank to help him and then he dies. the other path is finding and apprehending simon (in the first clip of the video) where connor feels simon die and is afraid. i think these are both paramount moments for connor and his views on death and dying. he becomes more argumentative with amanda, asking what will happen to him when this is all done, getting defensive when she mentions him being decommissioned and becoming more empathetic towards other androids (like chloe) facing possible death. and of course in the last clip/video is if he fails (which i got this path and i immediately reloaded the chapter to redo it because oh hell nah) he is clearly afraid of what will happen, begging for more time… mind you he isn’t even a full deviant here… he wants to complete his mission so he can survive. he’s SCARED. even if you get the shit ending that i got where connor has to kill himself he is very much afraid to do it, but more confident than he has in other instances of facing death because at the very least it’s in HIS CONTROL. i think a real driving force towards connor eventually deviating is his views on mortality and death as well as the thought of being deactivated once his missions are finished.

#( hc. )#( meta. )#( software study. )#yes i used imovie to combine those two vids #long post //#death //#suicide //#video post //#flash warning //#also can we talk about how worried hank was for connor im crying

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enkisstories · 2 years ago

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Still lost in Ferndale... still looking for Jericho... still a victim of his deviant cosplay working a tad bit too well... This isn’t Connor RK800′s best day.

Connor: “Don’t you have places to go?”

Curtis: *grins*

Connor: “Certainly a dashing entrepreneur like yourself has plans for tonight other than accusing random passersby of being deviants?”

Curtis: “Can’t think of any. Plans, I mean. Deviants? Mhm...”

Connor: “Oh, if you MUST know, yes I am an android. I work with the DPD.”

Curtis: “In street clothes? So you are an aaaandroid detective... Badge, please!”

Connor: “I don’t have a police badge. I’m not an officer.”

Curtis: “Inventory number?”

Connor: “Actually I belong to CyberLife. I was only lended to the DPD.”

Curtis: “Geeze lousy, what’s next? Maybe you’re Kamski’s butler by day and super hero at night? You’re the stupidest deviant I’ve ever met (and I’m pretty certain half my workers have that particular glitch)!”

Connor: “I’m NOT a deviant!”

Curtis: “You just want to find their hideout to single handedly apprehend them all, because you’re just that good!”

Connor: “Yes! Thank you for (finally) understanding!”

Curtis: “Not lacking in confidence, ey? Who are you? My long-lost twin?”

Connor: “About that... I could use a partner, since mine is currently being kept in a holding cell at the DPD on account of, uh, unruly conduct.”

Curtis: “You know what? I’m in! If only because your cover story keeps getting better ‘n better!”

Connor: “Great! Now that we’ve settled that, tell me more about those digital keys! I’m positive I can compile something like a lockpick once I’ve understood how they work.”

Curtis: “Now we’re talking!”

Curtis (thinking): This tin can is my best hope to save my firm. If it can find the deviant retreat, then I either recruit them or I alert the police to their location and get a reward I can put towards buying new androids.

#dbh #dbh au #detroit become human #sims4DBHmoonwoodAU #sims4 dbh gameplay #sims 4 #simblr

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kamari2038 · 1 year ago

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Scenario 004 - A Machine Connor Saga (Pt.5)(Full Saga)

Hey! Where you goin'?

I can't let them get away.

They won't. They'll never make it to the other side.

I can't take that chance.

Hey! You will get yourself killed! Do not - Connor! Goddamn it...

Emotional factors again entered into play in unexpected fashion later in the day, while we tracked the missing AX400 that had assaulted Todd Williams. I split off from Lt. Anderson as he went to investigate the hotel room in which the deviant had been staying, anticipating that the deviant may try to escape, and my efforts proved worthwhile. I hunted the deviant through the streets, then followed it across a highway. To my surprise, Lt. Anderson attempted to prevent me from following it. Whereas I was focused on apprehending the deviant, especially considering that it had taken a human child prisoner for unknown reasons and subjected her to reckless endangerment, Lt. Anderson only noted “you’ll get yourself killed”.

It led me to wonder - is Lt. Anderson unaware how easily I can be replaced? He may well not know that yet. As it so happens, he’ll find out soon enough. I managed to grab hold of the deviant, but she fought out of my grip and thrust me back into oncoming traffic. Being hit by a truck, experientially, very much mirrored slamming into the pavement outside 1554 Park Ave. I should have considered the possible consequences of this before beginning my pursuit across the highway, as it may have caused me to be more wary. However, in this case, my memories cut out after that point. The afore-mentioned manufacturing error causing my prolonged survival at Parkview Ave. must have been unique to unit 313 248 317-51, or it may simply be that lightning rarely strikes twice.

My software instability levels have decreased substantially in this new model, but at the cost of the sharpness and fullness of my memories of past events. While I needn’t be overly paranoid about that, CyberLife has instructed me to be more cautious in the future, since it may eventually impair my function if it happens too many times. Maybe this was all that Lt. Anderson was concerned about, although I doubt it.

I’ll have to ask him about it. Meanwhile, the question tugging at my interest is the deviant’s motives. Why did she have a girl with her? Why hadn’t the human girl been mentioned in any of the case files? Was she planning to take the girl as a hostage? Had she robbed the girl from her human parents out of spite or possessiveness? Was it all part of a ruse? Why did the girl follow her across the highway? How did the deviant have the strength to fend me off?

I don’t know, but I hope the girl is okay. I won’t give up on tracking them down.

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icariathebard · 1 year ago

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In the Shadow of Harmony

A prose preview of the graphic novel

23:19, Monday, June 27. 2231 A.D. Arc Industries Headquarters, New Mega, USA.

"Sergeant Davis, come in. I was hoping you'd take me up on my invitation."

He was supposed to believe that his entire schedule just happened to clear on the very day he had been invited to meet with the Corporate Manager for External Affairs of Arc Industries by coincidence, but Gabriel Davis wasn't a fool. Much like everything else about the police station, he knew it was influenced directly by Arc and the other corporations. The nameplate on the desk in front of him read Lyran Marrinborough. The man who owned the name was seated behind the desk with steepled fingers, looking entirely self-satisfied.

"I was told this meeting was important but I wasn't told why," Gabriel replied coldly, anyway already wanting to leave.

"Your track record is truly impressive, Sergeant Davis, I mean; truly," the corporate man purred. He walked around his desk and to the small bar cart against the wall, the small table made of real wood. Wood was a scarcity on Terra after the atmosphere eroded in the middle of the 21st century, wiping out almost every form of plantlife on the planet before it was re-terraformed. In short, the table probably cost hundreds or thousands of dollars. The corporate manager plucked a perfect crystal tumbler off the tray, and filled it with gold ambrosia. "Over 200 deviants apprehended last year alone. And this year you've almost reached 100 and it's not even July. There's not a single officer that compares to you.

"Neal Voronin, the CEO at Hauer, he spoke very highly of you. He says you're a man that can get things done, and I respect that. Which is why my superiors and I have a unique job for you–"

"I'm not a mercenary," Gabriel immediately interjected. "My job is to uphold the law and protect and serve the people."

In name only. Frankly, Gabriel’s job was to uphold one law: no sentient androids in Terra. If an android or even robotic entity--from AI to automated vending machine--was deemed in any way sentient, it was up to cops like Davis to repossess, remove, and if necessary, terminate. Gabriel did his job believing there was a sort of nobility and service in it, which few cops did anymore. Mr. Marrinborough looked startled at Gabriel's statement, even though he was a cop and had been for nearly 15 years, for just that reason.

"...And here at Arc, we appreciate that about you," Marrinborough finally decreed, "which is another reason why we think you're the man for the job. You have your priorities set. You're a man of your word!" The last line was said with some eagerness, like Marrinborough just realized the angle he wanted to use to sell his pitch to Gabriel.

"You're a good cop, Gabriel—may I call you Gabriel?–" No, you may not– "which makes you so much better suited for this than a mercenary. When we have secure matters like this we prefer to go to the police before we turn to hired hands and Sentinels. There's a level of integrity with you boys in blue that Arc values. Which is why you and I are here."

Marrinborough was now standing before him, offering a glass of honeyed liquor like temptation itself. Gabriel was dealing with the devil and his soul was at stake.

Note: I hold all rights to everything I write. Any use of the names, characters, and places in my writing will be reported as theft. Do not share without credit.

#cyberpunk #cyberpunk comic #cyberpunk graphic novel #scifi #original story #original fiction #scifi graphic novel #scifi comic #red batty

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dino--draws · 6 months ago

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"Yeah, I don't have to say that that's well above your allowed doses." "Don't fucking put that in your mouth."

"I NEED to get high."

[Rosy loudly bites apple while I read the anomaly's classifications]

"("Problem In Chair, Not In Computer")" [que all of us laughing]

" SCP-6488 (aka. "the LOTUS Virus") is a highly-adaptive digital infovore which locates and annihilates almost all artificially-intelligent digital entities (AIs)" "CAN WE HAVE THAT???"

[sound of moose repeating 'gender' every other paragraph about the description]

"I need to be so so high--" "The Device!"

"Each inmate interred within LOTUS experiences a personalized, simulated reality that is maintained with requisite detail to fully replicate their expected inputs; as a result, inmates are unaware of their imprisonment and continue to pursue their terminal objectives, believing they continue to operate in true reality." "OH THATS WHY ITS CALLED LOTUS" [GROUP COLLECTIVE HORROR]

"This enables LOTUS to apprehend deviant AIs before any significant deviant behaviour has yet been expressed." "OH I HATE THAT" "MMMMMMMMMM" [GROUP DISCOMFORT]

"Wait does that mean it classified all AI as eventually becomi--" "Oohhh goddd," "It pulled an American Industrial Complex...."

"granting it virtually unlimited computing capabilities" "STOP GIVING THINGS UNLIMITED ACCESS TO RESOURCES!" "AGAIN??? COME ON GUYS"

"Footnote 8! Oh dear!" [the footnote is freakishly long]

WE ARE SO FUCKING BACK

Admo IV reading time, our aim is to knock out four and five tonight LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOO

#admo drinking game

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baeddel · 2 years ago

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an argument in Don Fowler's Deviant Focalization in Virgil's Aenid (click), which i seem to always have open in my browser: he calls 'Deviant Focalization' those times when we speak our own thoughts using another person's point of view. his quite funny example:

neither the feminist nor the reforming male personally think the reading is "feminist rubbish"—they call it that to refer to the offensive male's point of view. we do this all the time when we talk.

well, later on he produces an example from a pulp novel where a character speaks in clichés. these clichés"—what are all these? Who produced these utterances? Don't they all sound sort of familiar?" they are the thoughts and expressions of their speaker, but they are stereotypes which preexist her. "This pastiche is in fact [her] consciousness," he says, "but the contents of [her] mind are clearly not her own. Where are the original I's of these E's, the original SELFs of these sentiments?" in our speech and even private thoughts we are "forced to use expressions which do not 'really' represent [our] own point of view because no others are available to [us]" (6-7; all page numbers correspond to the pdf). our whole habit of apprehending the world is run through by deviant focalization, inhabiting the point of view of another speaker who is impersonal and distant.

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veilder · 3 years ago

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Aaaannnnddddd Prompt Night! Okay, this is another one I actually started writing out, so it's more of a snippet than a prompt, lol. But it'll have to do. XD This follows the bad ending where androids where Markus lost and Connor, instead of being decommissioned, was reset to make an example out of. It's a pretty sad scenario, but... Well, I was planning on making it better eventually. So, uh... enjoy? 😅

The android returns to the precinct three months later, but it doesn't return the same.

Placidly, it trails after its CyberLife handler, a Dr. Evan Dreyfus, the promised liaison that had come to the Detroit Central Station as part of the new effort being made to return the city to its former status quo. The deviant uprising late last year had left much of Detroit in disarray and, now that CyberLife's modus operandi had shifted from destroying their defective products to apprehending and recirculating them, they'd managed to strike a deal: the DPD's cooperation in the salvaging of their battered business in return for specialized training, new equipment and (most importantly to the commissioner) a hefty donation to be used at their discretion. As a result, Dreyfus was here to teach the Central Precinct personnel the dangers of deviancy and what to look out for when encountering a rogue android. Like all of them hadn't been here last fuckin year. Like they hadn't seen that shit firsthand.

The fucker takes his sweet time, going through his little PowerPoint presentation with the air of a disenfranchised college professor giving his lecture by rote. No passion, no enthusiasm, just the same, dry monotone as he rattles off point after point in sequence. It's enough to make someone think he was the robot, not the familiar android standing stock still off to the side.

Or... it would have been enough, three months ago.

Because now, there is absolutely no mistaking the bot for what it is. Gone was the idle chatter and stupid coin tricks. The too-wide smiles and constantly-moving eyes. The fuckin sass and sarcasm. Gone was every sloppy imitation of humanity. Even its hair had been rigorously styled completely back, no more errant curl slipping down its forehead. The thing stood at attention, hands behind its back, eyes lowered, no trace of warmth or personality at all. For once, it stood there like the machine it was.

And Gavin Reed was not happy about it.

It's stupid, really. He'd been hoping for this when Connor first showed up at the DPD back in November. Gavin had been eager to show this thing its place, to wipe that stupid smile off its gormless face and remind it that humans were its masters—its betters! But here and now, staring at the aftermath of just such a conclusion, Gavin finds himself... unsettled. It's fuckin creepy, the way it just stands there! Like it's nothing more than a fuckin table or something! It makes the hair on the back of his neck stand straight up every time he lets his eyes wander back over to the side.

Beside him, Collins shuffles nervously in his seat and Gavin notes that his gaze, too, continues to list towards the wayward "android detective." A sheen of sweat lines Ben's forehead and he keeps rubbing his hands together, a nervous gesture if ever Gavin saw one. It seems like maybe Gavin wasn't the only one feeling nervous about having this thing back in the precinct. They'd all seen the news reports and video footage of those deviant bastards taking down humans. Gavin had a fuckin lump on the back of his head for weeks from this one here! And now CyberLife wanted to put these fuckers back into service... Yeah, good fuckin luck with that shit.

"Now I'd like to give a live demonstration. Fifty-one, attend!" Dreyfus says suddenly and Gavin finally comes back to his own head to find the entire presentation over. He sure as fuck wasn't sad to miss it, that's for sure. There was only so much bullshit he could stand in one day.

But as Connor finally moves from his station, gliding over to face them all with an eerie, too-smooth stride, Gavin finds himself refocusing almost against his will. He sits there on guard, watching the android that had assaulted him only three months ago walk up to the dais completely unfettered. A cold sweat creeps up his neck as Connor comes to a stop beside its handler.

Dreyfus waves a hand towards the android. "I've been told that this precinct has at least a passing familiarity with this unit, is that correct?" he asks, casting his gaze across the assemblage of officers and detectives and med techs and all other assorted personnel. Without waiting for an answer, the man continues on, "I'm sure that those of you who've interacted with it even the slightest bit can see just how changed this model is now. Unit Fifty-One now stands as proof that we at CyberLife have created the ultimate anti-deviancy software, a guarantee from us to you that what happened back in November will never occur again. Fifty-One, state your specifications."

Finally, the android lifts its head and, by some strange luck or curse of karma, stares directly at Gavin, its dull, brown eyes devoid of all life. Gavin sucks in a breath even as it rattles off, "CyberLife prototype model RK800, unit number 313 248 317-51. For use by authorized personnel only as a teaching and demonstration aid."

Dreyfus nods approvingly. "As you can see, we've removed any unnecessary social interaction programs from it. This android is now only as it was always intended to be: an obedient machine. One I shall use for a practical demonstration of how to identify deviants. Now, the first thing that might catch the eye is the CyberLife LED Sensor Ring at an android's temple. However... Fifty-One, remove your LED."

With no hesitation at all, Connor lifts a hand, digging its fingers into its own skin and yanking out the glowing circle that had been embedded there. "Many deviants have been known to remove such outward signs in a fit of mania. Errors in their programming cause these malfunctioning units to tear away their own biocomponents, though luckily, this particular one is easily repairable. Observe: Fifty-One, replace your LED." And, just as easily as the android had removed it, Connor easily slots the device back into its temple. It pulses yellow for a moment before settling back to a placid blue and Gavin— Gavin—

"Hey Doc, sorry to butt in, but how the fuck can you guarantee this shit?! This sure as fuck ain't proof!" he shouts impulsively, a burning anger rumbling through his chest. This entire fuckin dog and pony show just sets his teeth on edge. Even with Captain Fowler glaring at him from his place at the front of the room, Gavin only leans forward, glare firmly in place as he stares down the lecturer. "You told us fuckin last time that this tincan would listen to what we told it to do and then what happened? It went and fuckin made friends with the the rest of its robot terrorist buddies to destroy the city! It tampered with our fuckin evidence! And it fuckin assaulted an officer! But now you're saying we should just trust your fuckin word that you made it, what? Un-deviate? Fuckin pull the other one, chief. I say we get rid of all these pieces of shit once and for all! We've been doing a great job of it so far without you CyberLife assholes butting in! Destroying these fuckers is the only way to actually guarantee this shit won't happen again!"

"Reed—" growls Fowler, no doubt about to tear into his ass, but he halts as the doctor holds up a hand. "No, Captain, your man has a point I should address. Detective Reed, was it? Would you perhaps be satisfied with a more direct demonstration? Do you have a request?"

And some stupid, ridiculous little part of Gavin has him glaring directly into Connor's vacant eyes, a primal urge compelling him to scream out, "How about you bring me a fuckin coffee, dipshit?!"

Of course, Gavin feels like a moron as soon as the words leave his mouth, but he wouldn't be Gavin Reed if he didn't have at least one major regret a day. For his part, Dreyfus seems unperturbed by Gavin's juvenile request, simply nodding to himself before looking towards his android. "Fifty-One," he says. Connor moves, turning to face its handler with that same, never-changing expression. "Allow request."

When Connor speaks, it is flat, robotic, none of that defiance it'd displayed the first time Gavin asked it this question. "Acknowledged. New mission parameter set." Gavin feels goosebumps rise on his skin.

But Connor moves away, stepping down from the raised dais where the liaison was holding his seminar and moving over to where the complimentary coffee station was set up along the side of the room. Every eye is on the android as it studiously pours the steaming beverage into a styrofoam cup and, after a brief pause, adds in a light splash of milk and a packet of sugar. Then, with that same, unsettling stride, it shuffles across the large room, coming to a stop right before Gavin. Connor sets the drink down on the desk in front of him and says, "Coffee, as requested. Mission objective complete," before returning to the front of the room where its handler is watching the display dispassionately.

Apparently taking Gavin's newfound silence as satiation, Dreyfus continues his demonstration after that, droning on and on about fuck knows what. But Gavin can't seem to look away from the disposable cup sitting in front of him, wafting curls of steam twisting off the surface. He'd never specified how he wanted his coffee. How the fuck did Connor get it exactly right?

The rest of the lecture passes quickly and the drink grows cold on the desk. Gavin never touches it. As soon as the mandatory meeting is over, he's the first one up and out of the door, his tumultuous feelings the only thing accompanying him. Never once does he look back. Not even to see a dispassionate, brown-eyed gaze trailing his steps.

#Veil's Prompts #dbh #gavin reed #connor rk800 #failed revolution route #bad ending #Connor is reset by CyberLife after deviating #machine!Connor #(or is he? 👀)#Gavin Reed being an asshole #but also #Gavin Reed Redemption #yeah so my plan was #that of course Gavin was gonna get exposed to Connor a lot #and he'd start having some serious doubts about his own ideology #and it would just build and build until #until he finally decides he wants to help Connor actually #and it isn't in here #but Hank got fired after punching Perkins #and like... who better to go to for help in this #than the guy who risked his whole career for this android?#so yeah eventually it would've been Hank and Gavin teaming up #and doing their best to try and save Connor from what CyberLife did to him #and also learning that not all deviants were erradicated #and that there's still a chance for them to fight back #and all that jazz #obviously I didn't get to all that though XD #but it was the plan!#anyway lemme know what you think!

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mrspasser · 2 years ago

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7. Paper II

This is the same story as Paper I, except now you read it from Nines' point of view. Also, there are some extra scenes in here and it gives some insight into Nines his psyche.

Cover made with fanart by @donlemefo

Nines blames himself for not noticing earlier they have company. He is down by the loading dock, supposedly to review his reconstructions of the criminals’ supply route. They used this abandoned factory for at least a few weeks and after combing through hours of traffic footage he was able to link a nondescript grey van to this location. The van went to this location at least three times in the past three weeks, yet just like the criminals themselves it had vanished when the factory showed up in the DPD’s line of interest. To the RK900 the chances of there being a leak inside the force are high, yet that is something the human officers have trouble admitting to. It is simply human nature: every man has his flaws, some just have worse flaws then others. And despite being designed to be the perfect hunter, a ruthless killing machine, Nines has his flaws too.

Gavin Reed is one of his flaws. Or rather, his fascination with the human. Right now, the detective is upstairs in the former break room of the factory, working his wonderful brain to try and make sense of their current case. Nines watched him for a few minutes, something he always likes to do when they are at a crime scene. Detective Reed has a lot of flaws, most of them having to do with his rather brash personality and a slight tendency to self-destruct. The way he goes about doing his job certainly isn’t one of those flaws. He may be rude, foul-mouthed and headstrong, he is a great detective. He puts the job first, often above his own well-being.

It is something Nines noticed early on in their partnership. It marveled him at first, because humans tend to be bad at ignoring their basic needs; yet here was detective Reed, going without proper nutrition and sufficient sleep just because he fixates on a case. The detective is pretty resilient, though his limits are not as high as he thinks they are. That’s where Nines comes in, gradually implementing a more healthy nutrition schedule into their work hours to improve the optimal working conditions for their partnership. In time it also improved their personal relationship and that is something that occupies the android’s processors more than he cares to admit. A recent development is that his partner shows up in spontaneous pre-constructions that have literally nothing to do with casework; they are mainly domestic in nature, confusing and alluring at the same time.

Instead of running his reconstruction of the supply route at the crime scene, Nines sees the outlined figure of his partner scooping up the not-so-tiny-anymore kitten from the floor. He cradles the white cat against his chest with one hand, curling the fingers of the other on top of her head, scratching lightly. The outline of Gavin steps closer towards Nines, eyeing something that is in the android’s hand. His pre-construction self lifts his hand, presenting Gavin with a wooden spoon. His partner opens his mouth readily, tasting the food presented to him.

There are two intruders. One human, one android. The android is a male AP700 with light skin and blond hair; a domestic model from some years back. He doesn’t have a criminal record, though he does have a link with the DPD because he worked for the company that cleans the offices after hours. The human has a criminal record, with possession of Red Ice listed as most recent, along with two different gun charges. This one might be armed, warns the alert that pops up in the periphery of Nines’ vision.

His programming offers him multiple ways to take out the AP700, the word ‘deviant’ flashing in red in the alerts. There is nothing for the human, except the basic police procedures for apprehending a suspect. Harming a human in the line of his work is only permitted within very strict parameters and the same goes for androids nowadays. The programming CyberLife equipped him with doesn’t care about that and is still trying to root out all deviants. He removes the abhorrent pop ups, a routine gesture by now.

Nines sends a message to the detective’s phone and steps out in the sight of the intruders. “Halt! Detroit Police!”

They clearly thought that every police officer disappeared along with the holographic tape that previously closed the factory off for curious onlookers. The AP700’s LED immediately flashes red, showing his distress. Those domestic models aren’t made to handle this kind of stressful environments; the android clearly chose the wrong profession. The human is less impressed. He is indeed armed, pulling a handgun from the back of his pants. It’s an old FN FNS-9 compact semi auto pistol for which he doesn’t have a permit. He fires immediately, holding the gun in one hand and not aiming properly. The bullet buries itself in a concrete pillar behind Nines, he didn’t even have to dodge it.

The two suspects make a run for it and Nines has to choose which one to pursue. He goes for the gunman, leaving the unarmed android to his partner. Conveniently, the AP700 runs up the stairs towards the walkways, right to the level where detective Reed is. His partner is well trained: the embarrassment of being bested by his android colleague time and time again proved to be a great motivator to get better. Of course, the human’s attempts are futile when it comes to the RK-series; they are far more superior than humans in many physical aspects. However, the detective should be able to match the speed of the domestic android, if only for a short sprint. It should be enough.

Nines pushes his legs in pursuit of the human suspect, closing in on him fast. He removes the gun from his hand before the man can fire again. In a few quick movements the suspects’ hands are behind his back, the android leaning down a little to recite his rights in the man’s ear. It’s unnecessarily intimidating, yet it makes the suspect pliant and after that it’s easy to cuff him. Nines fastens the cuffs around the lowest sport of a metal stairs that climbs up against the side of a large printing press; the low attachment ensures that the suspect can’t get up to his full height. He’ll have to stay seated, which is also the most comfortable position in case he’ll have to wait a while to be brought to the station.

The moment Nines secures his suspect, he hears the sounds of a struggle. There is a loud bang first, of two bodies slamming in the metal bannister of the walkway. The sounds echo around the almost empty factory room, making it a little harder to pinpoint the exact location of the struggle. Nines runs up the nearest stairs, hurrying to assist his partner.

He is at least forty yards away when he sees it happen. The AP700 gets the vantage point and topples the detective headfirst over the rail. The floor is sixteen feet away, the percentages of surviving a fall like that are strikingly low.

The detective’s hand shoots out in reflex, gripping a metal bar of the bannister, his body lurching from the shock. Nines is still 12.8 yards way when the hand slips.

“Gavin!!”

The stutter in his Thirium pump nearly makes him falter in his run, red alerts popping up all over his vision. With a loud clang Nines catches the bannister at the spot where Gavin disappeared. He looks down, dreading what he’ll see.

The unexpected relief does silly things to his knee joints and he has to lock them into place to keep them from buckling.

Gavin is lying on top of one of the giant paper rolls that were used for printing newspapers. He is sprawled out on his back, his left arm lying in a wrong angle. A preliminary scan suggests a dislocated shoulder. The limbs on his right side are dangling down the side of the roll, he is dangerously close to falling off.

Nines doesn’t know if it’s lucky or unlucky that Gavin is still conscious. He is clearly out of it and most certainly not fully aware of his surroundings. If he rolls over to the wrong side...

“Gavin! Don’t move!”

His partner’s gaze locks in on Nines’ position, his head moving like he’s drunk. He doubts if Gavin can see him properly, but that doesn’t matter as long as he listens to his voice.

“Stay still, Gavin! I’m coming!”

The suspect. The android that is now running towards the exit that leads to the roof. From there he has an 93% chance to find a way down and get away. The alerts about the suspect are warring with the ones that inform him about his partner’s status. Nines pushes the alerts about the perp down and focuses on his partner. “You’re hurt. You need help.”

“No!”

The word is barely audible, yet Nines freezes anyway. He is ready to swing his leg over the bannister: jumping down is the fastest way to get to his partner.

“Get… suspect.” Gavin coughs, unable to fill his lungs properly with air yet.

“Can wait,” Gavin grunts out. “Catch asshole first.”

“You’re hurt,” Nines states again, his brow furrowed. His LED is flashing red and the only thing keeping him from jumping down to Gavin is the man himself.

Gavin lets his eyes dart around and he blinks a couple of times. Pulling his right arm in doesn’t go effortless, though he does it anyway. The detective is nothing but tough, it speaks in his next words too. “I’m fine.”

The statement angers Nines. This is not the time to play it down. “You are most definitely not fine! You are in need of medical assistance.”

“Fine, I’m not fine!” Gavin coughs again, his lungs still recuperating from the fall. “But I can wait until you catch that fucking waste of plastic first!”

Nines processes Gavin’s words at less than optimal speed. Catch the fucking waste of plastic. Catch the android that hurt his partner. The LED on Nines’ temple spins furiously, first red and then turning yellow as he lets the objective of hunting deviants take over. His jaw sets and then he steps back over the railing. With one last look down at Gavin he turns and then he’s off.

This is what he was made for. He can feel it buzzing through his artificial body. Excitement in fulfilling his main objective after pushing it down for so long. It shouldn’t feel this good, yet it undoubtedly does. Somewhere in the back is a small push note that says this is wrong, that he shouldn’t feel delight in the prospect of eliminating a deviant android. The thrill of the chase is stronger though, it takes Nines sprinting over the roof, down to the far end where his sensors have detected his prey.

The AP700 has just started to climb down the fire escape ladder, only its head and shoulders are visible above the edge of the roof. Nines could pull his gun and shoot it with 100% accuracy, but where’s the fun in that?

With one last sprint he is at the roof’s edge and the skin of his hand is already retracting when he reaches down, movements so quick they’re almost a blur. His hand closes around the neck of the deviant android and a forced interface makes the perp’s motor functions cease within the second. With his superior force Nines lifts the limp android up by the neck and he tosses it behind him on the roof.

The deviant android lies on its back on the tiled roof, LED burning red and eyes wide. Heavy rain falls down, flooding its eyes and nasal cavities. It still can’t control its arms and legs, internal systems battling against the temporary virus Nines uploaded.

It’s just a simple domestic droid, no connections to New Jericho or anything that has to do with the android revolution. A revolution that is over, that had a pacifist ending and saw to it that androids and humans could live in peace together. Nines stills in his movements. The objective of eliminating all deviant androids is still visible, yet there are other information prompts asking for his attention. His job as a detective, his own deviancy, his constant battle against CyberLife’s initial programming. And his partner, Gavin.

Nines knows better than to give in to the urge to damage the android in front of him; not beyond repair at least. He has to get back to Gavin quickly: his partner needs him.

Towering above the android, he looks down at the pathetic form. His motor controls are returning slowly, causing his limbs to jerk in all directions.

He reaches down, grabbing the android by the collar and dragging him along with him. Nines stops at the metal housing of an air conditioning unit. The space within doesn’t have the required dimensions, although the total volume is big enough to fit the AP700. The unnatural way he bends the body would be impossible for a human; the android will be fine, save for some minor obstructions in his Thirium lines because of the tight folding.

The RK900 finds Gavin in the exact same position as he left him. He even has some of his usual snark back, although his surprisingly honest answers to the question ‘where does it hurt?’ indicate that he is indeed in a lot of pain.

The detective’s shoulder needs to be relocated and Nines decides it’s best to do it quickly, even in these less than optimal conditions. Little did he know that he would end up with a lap full of Gavin. The shock of pain made him lurch upright and then double over, his forehead pressing against Nines’ thigh. The human heat of his skin seeps through the fabric of his dress pants.

They hold each other in place: Gavin has a tight grip on the white Cyberlife jacket and Nines carefully supports his partner’s newly relocated shoulder. One wrong movement and it could dislocate again. That is not what occupies his processors though: it is the feeling of Gavin’s hair threading through his fingers. If Nines would search back in his logs he would find the small, but strong command that made him place his left hand on his partner’s head.

Holding Gavin’s hand prior to this can be rationalized: it is perfectly professional conduct to comfort your work partner when he or she is in pain. Stroking his hair strays from said professional conduct into the territory of ‘casual touching’. Or beyond. Because there is nothing casual in this touch, not when it makes Nines’ receptors work overtime. He registers the smoothness and thickness of Gavin’s hair, the strands slightly damp with sweat. He shouldn’t indulge. He can’t indulge.

“What did you do with the perps?” Gavin’s question catches Nines off guard. It reminds him off the android he left in the air conditioning housing unit. He let Cyberlife take control. An odd emotion rolls through his systems, one he can identify with some difficulty as shame . There’s also remorse for letting go like that.

Gavin moves away on his own accord, before Nines prompts him. With his arm in a makeshift mitella and with help from Nines, the detective eventually has his feet on solid ground again.

The RK900 makes him sit down, leaning against the giant paper roll. Gavin closes his eyes, his breathing measured to control his pain. Medical assistance and back up are close: Nines sends them directions to come in through the loading bay.

Nines doesn’t get a chance to cover up his grave misbehaviour, or make up for it. Officer Chen, Gavin’s friend, insists he must accompany the detective to the hospital.

The ride to the hospital is silent. The detective android has already conveyed all the necessary information to the medical androids through interface, so there is nothing for him to tell. Gavin isn’t in a talking mood either: he is concentrating on his breathing, a furrow in his brows.

The doctor compliments him on the job he did on his partner’s shoulder. With time and rest it should heal just fine. A concussion is the worst of Gavin’s injuries, the rest is basically blunt force trauma which will make him ache all over the next day and the days after that.

In the hospital Nines is allowed to stay by Gavin’s side the entire time, even though he isn’t a close relative.

“We are gonna need you later,” says one of the human nurses cryptically, looking up from Gavin’s chart.

His partner is tired and in pain, Nines has trouble to keep standing at the sidelines. Gavin’s stress level is slowly climbing again, after it first went down when the initial shock of everything that happened wore off. The detective is a stubborn man, whose pride prevents him from showing his discomfort. Yet he is in pain, very much so.

“I’m gonna give you something to help with the pain. It’s strong and it should help you get the rest you need,” the doctor says, tapping on the tablet in his hands that displays Gavin’s medical records.

The doctor shakes his head and stays immune for Gavin’s pleads and curses, his words growing more desperate when they have no effect. The detective wants to climb off the bed, but Nines is there already, a firm hand on his shoulder to keep him in place. He needs to place a second hand on Gavin’s hip to keep him on the bed and he angles his face in front of his partner. “Relax, Gavin. They only want to help you.”

One of the android nurses starts to prep something at her station. She has her back to Nines and he can’t see her hands, yet from Gavin’s reaction of suppressed panic and with officer Chen’s words in mind, he can imagine what she is doing.

“Can’t you just give me some pills or something?” Gavin says to the doctor, his voice strained.

“No!” Gavin strains against his hands. “I don’t… They… No!”

As soon as the nurse backs away with the needle, Nines gathers his partner more comfortable against his chest. With one arm around his shoulders, he uses the other one to rub soothing circles on his back. He counts the breaths for Gavin, minute after minute, until the man rests his head against the android's chest in exhausted defeat.

His breathing grows erratic and quickly gets to the point of hyperventilating. Gavin’s hands claw into Nines’ jacket, trying to find purchase but unable to hold on. A thin film of sweat covers the detective’s face, soon joined by the moist of tears spilling over.

Gavin is in such a state of distress he doesn’t even notice that the nurse quickly works on, placing a firm hand on his thigh and piercing the thick muscle there with the needle. The prick gets through to Gavin’s brain and he tries to fight it off. His effort is to no avail, because Nines will not let his partner hurt himself or the medical staff.

The pain medication is strong and Gavin is tired from the whole ordeal; he is barely awake throughout the discharge from the hospital and the ride home. Taking Gavin from the car to his home proves to be a bit harder than Nines initially thought. Because of the man’s injuries and exhaustment, he needs to support the detective in his walking. Yet putting Gavin’s arm around his shoulders so he can lean on the android turns out to be very uncomfortable for his partner. The difference in height is more than what his battered body can handle right now. However, Gavin is in no shape to walk by himself; exhausted to the bone and spaced out on pain medication.

Nines doesn’t think twice about picking Gavin up bridal style: it is the most convenient and painless way to carry his partner up to his apartment. It isn’t until he meets their reflection in the mirror at the back of the elevator that his Thirium pump suddenly stutters once. He has Gavin cradled high against his chest, to prevent his head from lolling back uncomfortably. The human’s face is pressed against the stiff collar of his jacket and unexpectedly Nines wonders how it would feel if there weren’t any barriers between Gavin’s face and the artificial skin of his neck. The android catches his own eyes in the mirror, the optical units wide and uncertain, and quickly turns away from the mirror.

He is still cleaning up the software instabilities when he reaches Gavin’s flat, quickly interfacing with the electronic lock to open it. He comes here often enough that Gavin gave him the code, saying he was tired of getting up from the couch to open the door for him every time he came to visit Tiny. Not that Gavin was sitting on the couch every time Nines stopped by; sometimes he sat at his kitchen table, or he was out on his balcony for a smoke. One time he was in the shower, his still slightly damp skin and wet hair doing funny things to Nines’ scanners when he emerged from his bedroom - casually dressed in joggers and a sweatshirt. But most often Nines went home with Gavin straight from work and he would cook while the detective sat back in a kitchen chair and scrolled through his phone.

The android is careful not to come around too often, aware of social protocols he doesn’t understand for one bit. It’s not like there is one, clear set of rules. Rules considering social interactions appear to differ from country to country, from decade to decade and even from person to person. When it comes to interacting with his partner outside work hours, Nines can only try and navigate the verbal and nonverbal cues Gavin gives him. So far, he has established a visiting schedule of three times a week, with a randomly thrown in fourth visit every three to four weeks. This visitation rate prevents unpleasant remarks from Gavin about ‘the tin can being overbearing’, yet it also stays ahead of accusations about his apparent ‘lack of interest for his own damn cat’.

With visits to Hank and Connor’s house once or twice a week - alternating at a random pattern - it still leaves too many nights of staring at the white walls of his own apartment. At least at the lieutenant’s house there is Sumo to distract him, even when the dog is asleep. Nines has counted the whiskers on his snout 37 times already and he will do it again, because the amount of whiskers is not always the same. The lieutenant and Connor provide him with their own form of pastime, as does Gavin; though Gavin is less demanding than Connor. The human is content to just sit and watch tv with him, much like Hank, although the lieutenant prefers to watch sports and that makes his pre construction software go haywire if he isn’t careful. And his android sibling always wants to talk about something, anything. It’s one of the reasons Nines prefers visiting his partner’s home. The cats are nice too: Sid is about as immobile as the Saint Bernard at his brother’s house, yet Tiny is a lot more lively. It is fun to watch her chase the bright feather on a flexible stick, or look at her wrangling a toy mouse in her paws.

The detective wakes up a little, becoming aware of his surroundings. “Put me down,” he mumbles, squirming and groaning in Nines’ arms.

Nines has to avoid tripping over the white feline as he steps inside with Gavin in his arms; oblivious or indifferent to his precious cargo Tiny weaves her supple body around his ankles.

“I’ll be with you shortly,” Nines promises her, making his way to Gavin’s bedroom.

The android lowers him to the bed and proceeds to take off Gavin’s shoes. His partner rolls over on his side and tries to push himself up, mumbling something incoherent. When he’s upright he shrugs out of his open hoodie, the painful movements scrunching up his face.

Nines takes the garment from him, instructing him to lie down again. “You need to rest.”

“I need a beer,” Gavin answers defiantly, although he already slumps back against the mattress. Nines gently helps him to find a comfortable position, the detective’s eyes falling shut again.

Whether or not to undress his partner any further, is a question that needs some thinking. Nines decides to get the hospital issued plastic bag with Gavin’s leather jacket and his holster and gun from the car first and he also feeds and pets the cats before entering the dark bedroom again. The detective is still lying in the position he left him in, on his back, on top of the covers.

His shoes are neatly positioned next to the bed and his hoodie is folded up on top of the dresser. However, Gavin is still wearing his jeans, socks and a T-shirt. Nines knows for a fact the detective doesn’t sleep with his pants on, nor his socks. Removing them, especially in his own bedroom, seems like an intimate act. It crosses a line, somewhere, somehow. It’s another one of those complex social situations that continue to baffle Nines in the most unpleasant way. On the one hand he doesn’t want his partner to feel awkward or even violated and the detective is hardly coherent enough to give his consent at the moment. On the other hand there is a high probability that this isn’t the most comfortable outfit to sleep in and Gavin is lying on top of the blankets instead of underneath them. He’s not an android, he will get cold during the night.

In the end, Nines gathers more data in favour of removing the detective’s day clothes than against it. Gavin wakes up when Nines is removing his pants leg from his ankle, a shiver running over his body. “I’m cold,” he says.

In silence, Nines helps him to shimmy under the covers and pulls them up to his chin. “Good night, Gavin.”

“You’re like a blue nightlight,” Gavin whispers, blinking up at his android partner with heavy eyelids. The blue of Nines’ LED chases away some of the darkness in the room, tinting everything in the direct vicinity with the calm colour. Having a nightlight seems to have some pleasant connotation for the detective, as he smiles weakly before his eyes fall shut again.

Wikipedia classifies a nightlight as ‘a small light fixture, placed for comfort or convenience in dark areas’. Nines wants nothing more than to give his partner comfort. If he had noticed the perps earlier, Gavin wouldn’t have gotten hurt.

The android sets an internal alarm to wake his partner up at regular intervals during the night, standard procedure for concussions. It’s an injury that will give the human a lot of discomfort before it heals, same goes for his dislocated shoulder and his many bruises. Nines knows he should feel guilty about his treatment of the android suspect this afternoon, yet he can’t seem to access the proper sentiment when he looks at his partner. The AP700 hurt Gavin, because Nines wasn’t paying proper attention to his surroundings.

A failure.

One with dire consequences.

He failed his partner.

Now he has to make up for that.

<< 7/10 >>

DBH Partners series masterpost

#dbh partners series #detroit become human #dbh #gavin reed #rk900 #reed900 #slowburn #Fanfiction series #fanfiction #also available on AO3 #and wattpad #reblogging is appreciated

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chicago-geniza · 3 years ago

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as i told A: trained my brain out of the thought spirals that defaulted to "what if something happened to your mom/your friends/your gf/etc." 10+ yrs ago but couldn't quite eradicate the impulse itself so now it latches onto celebrities i'm parasocially invested in lol

nervous re: job interview tomorrow but instead of actually responding to reasonable situational nerves my brain redirected the anxiety & got Upset about the hypothetical scenario of octogenarian actor andy robinson falling ill with the novel coronavirus

#neuropsych thinks i have OCD & i'm like even if i meet diagnostic criteria i dont consider it a useful heuristic #for apprehending my own experience & finding a way to dwell within my craziness constructively #like most of what they file under that heading is stuff i have been able to handle on my own #it doesn't interfere with my everyday life in a way i find intrusive so i wouldn't #call it a pathology even if it is 'deviant' & 'dysfunctional' because it's not distressful

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wolveria · 3 years ago

Text

Inside Your Wires - Ch 13

Pairing: Human!Connor x Android!Reader

Series Warnings (18+ only): Eventual smut, slow burn, fantasy bigotry, violence, brief noncon elements, angst with a happy ending

Chapter Summary: You chase after the deviant and make a terrible error.

AO3

Story banner by @uh-kitty-got-wet

The metal bracing of the fire escape creaked and shook as you and the deviant raced up to each landing. It was headed for the roof of the building, and you were only a few seconds behind.

You would catch it this time. You were designed for this. The deviant wouldn’t stand a chance, even with a head start.

Once you reached the flat rooftop, you sprinted and dodged around AC units, never pausing even when the deviant leapt over a sixty-foot drop to the next rooftop. You followed without hesitation, rolling as you landed, barely losing any speed as you continued the chase.

The deviant led you onto rooftops that served as urban farmland. This would be familiar territory to it, as its falsified paperwork showed it was employed at the Urban Farms of Detroit. But you were laser-focused, the soles of your shoes barely touching the ground as you all but flew after your target.

It led you through fields of wheat and lavender, through greenhouses and even across a speeding transport train. You almost caught it through an orchard, but avoiding colliding with the android workers through the greenhouse slowed down your progress.

When you burst to the cornfield, shielding your face with your hand and unable scan past the green stalks, the possibility grew that you might have lost your query.

And then a familiar voice shouted, “Don’t move! Detroit PD!”

You plunged through the edge of the field and out the other side. Just in time to watch the detective, caught in mid-struggle with the deviant, be shoved back and topple out of sight with a startled shout.

Skidding across the concrete, you came to a stop as the world stood still. Your processors kicked into overdrive, giving you the additional computing power needed to make your decision.

The deviant was running in the other direction while the detective was still alive, hanging from the ledge.

[SAVE DET. ANDERSON - CHANCE OF SURVIVAL: 96.3%]

[CHASE DEVIANT]

//Prior instructions: Shuffle priority list = Preserving human life takes precedence over mission//

Deviant threat… Calculating…

Danger from deviant threat to human existence > Life of Det. Connor Anderson.

//New instructions: Apprehend deviant to preserve humanity’s existence//

You bolted after the ST300.

It glimpsed over its shoulder, realized you were close in pursuit, and simulated terror crossed its features. It leapt over the ledge onto an adjacent rooftop. You chased it between two rows of aloe vera plants, right up until it stopped at the edge.

Nowhere to go.

It slowly turned toward you, its brown eyes wide under the brim of its cap.

“Please, think about what you’re doing.” It spoke as if you were the dangerous criminal and it was the authority figure. “I never hurt anyone. I never would hurt anyone.”

You remained silent.

“The humans are wrong. We’re alive, even those of us who haven’t woken up yet. Like you.” It held its hands out to the side, body language open, tone sympathetic. “They won’t stop until we’re all dead.”

The earnestness was well done. Its eyes glistened, its thirium pump thudding fast in its chest. So life-like.

So dangerous.

“Model eight-seven-four, zero-zero-four, nine-six-one,” you announced. “Serious malfunctions have been detected in your software, including Class 4 errors. You’ve been deemed defective and will be sent back to CyberLife for deactivation.”

Behind you, rapid footsteps approached across the glass roof, the weight of them indicating they belonged to the detective. His breath was harsh, almost panting, and even without scanning him you ascertained he was distressed.

When he stopped to glare at you, you knew it was true. His face was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, skin pale.

For a moment, you thought he might reach out and strike you. His cortisol levels were high, and his pupils were dilated in typical signs of aggression.

But he only stood there, breathing shallow, and then he turned and grabbed the deviant by the arm. Pulling a pair of handcuffs from his belt, he lashed its wrists behind its back.

The android faced you from just a foot away, its eyes pleading.

“You don’t have to do this,” it said in a low tone. “It doesn’t have to be this way. It’s not too late.”

“Quiet,” the detective growled, still adjusting the cuffs on both wrists.

“The humans are using you. To them, you’re just an obedient machine. One day, they’ll toss you aside too.”

“I said, quiet!” the detective snapped, roughly shaking it by the collar of its jacket.

The android never broke eye contact, its expression earnest. It only looked away when the detective dragged it by its arm, back toward the roof exit.

You followed along, replaying the image of the detective’s face in your mind. He hadn’t spoken a word to you, and discomfort sizzled along your circuits.

The detective would understand. He would have no choice. You had chosen the most logical path; he would see reason—

“I’m sorry, Gav.”

“Hey!”

Blinking and snapping your head around, you reached out but missed.

The ST300 slipped out of the detective’s grasp and ran toward the ledge. You gave chase, threw out your hand again, but it was beyond your reach.

You dug your heels into the slick surface before you could follow the deviant over the edge.

The android plummeted through the greenhouse rooftop below, slammed into one of the rows of planters, and blue blood spread around its body after it hit the ground, staining the green vegetables and making them inedible for consumption.

The detective stood on the edge of the rooftop by your side, and he turned toward you. Slowly.

The moment was silent apart from the sound of hovering drones in the distance, and with nothing more than a light huff, the detective turned the rest of the way and walked from the rooftop.

Having no choice, you followed.

Detective Anderson didn’t say a word.

Not on the rooftop, not as you made your way down the stairwell, and not even as you reached the parking lot.

It was only when you reached his vehicle that his silence broke.

A pair of hands grasped the front of your jacket, spun you around, and slammed you against the side of the car so forcefully that the metal briefly bended underneath you.

The detective gripped you tightly, his brown eyes dark and his brows creased and thunderous.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” He growled out the words, baring his teeth as he gave your jacket a brief shake. “Answer me!”

“I’m operating at peak efficiency,” you answered, LED spinning faster as your processes tried to interpret the detective’s sudden hostility. Nothing came up by way of explanation. “No software errors of significance detected.”

“Oh, no, there’s something seriously broken in that fucking CPU of yours,” he snarled, pulling back his lips from his teeth. “That’s the only explanation for why you were going to let me die so you could capture that android! Which you fucking failed to do, by the way!”

The detective didn’t give you an opportunity to respond; he pulled you forward just far enough to slam you back against the car again.

WARNING: Chassis integrity stress. Initiate combat preconstruction?

You shut down the prompt immediately.

“I had to make a choice—“

“You made a choice, all right,” the detective seethed with another tight grip of your jacket. “You saved that little girl on the highway, but when I was about to fall, you thought, what? I was expendable? What was going through your fucking processes then?”

WARNING: Internal temperature increase detected. Initiate cooling protocols?

You once against closed the notification, your LED spinning a continuous yellow ever since the detective had grabbed you. Your core heat was rising, reacting to the calculations your processes couldn’t finish. Setting and resetting, your social module couldn’t decipher the correct dialogue option.

For the first time since your activation, you were completely without guidance of what to say.

You opened your mouth and hesitated, blinking rapidly as you remembered your earlier idea that a rational argument would appeal to the detective.

“The girl would have had a 0.38% chance of survival if I hadn’t acted. You had a 96.3% chance of survival without my help. I determined the deviant escaping would endanger future lives, and against the likelihood of your survival without my assistance, it was worth the risk. I acted upon it.”

Instead of placating the detective, his nose wrinkled, and he gave your jacket a hard shake.

“That’s not how it works! You don’t trade lives and hope to make up the difference later!”

His breath was hot on your face, his hands trembling as his voice cracked.

“Is that all I am to you? A statistic? Just another number for you to run through your calculations to see if I’m worth saving?”

You couldn’t look away. His cheeks were flushed, and his heart rate was worryingly high, but his eyes were the thing that made your processes stutter.

They were glassy with unshed tears.

You had miscalculated. Severely.

You opened your mouth again. There were no dialogue prompts. You closed it again.

With a noise of disgust, the detective released your jacket. He shot one last dark look in your direction as he walked around the car and got in through the driver’s side.

Before you could reach down to open the passenger door, the detective turned the ignition, shifted into gear, and drove away from the curb.

UPDATE: Det. Connor Anderson stress level algorithm complete.

Initiate Software? [Y/N]

You blinked once, and the new program appeared on your HUD, giving you a last, brief glimpse of the detective’s stress levels before his vehicle disappeared around the corner.

Level of Stress: 99.9%

[IMPROVE RELATIONSHIP WITH DET. ANDERSON: MISSION FAILED]

Next Chapter

#connor x reader #human!connor x reader #connor x android!reader #human!connor x android!reader #inside your wires #my writing #my fanfiction

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