#tbd|Connor

[brooklynislandgirl]

@detectiveconnor  {{xx}}

Oh. Oh dear. Perhaps she could be forgiven for her mistake, Detective Connor looks more like a reporter or eye-witness than a police officer, and maybe she’d been distracted by the crime-scene and the woman’s body. She starts to apologise as she looks up, first taking the blue nitrile glove off to not cross-contaminate, and feeling the coolness of his skin against her own. The first thing that leaves an impression on her is how young he looks close up, and she’s sure he must get carded as often as she does. The second is that there’s residual warmth in his gaze. Then it’s the freckles. Faint, to be sure, but still there, not unlike the ones that form a sort of crescent moon around the right side of her mouth. “Beth,” is what comes out of her mouth, automatically in that just-barely-more-than-a-whisper of hers. A pause. “Uh, Doctah Riley.” He’s got an Irish name but... But that little circle of light finally catches her gaze. She’s very careful not to stare at it, or even flicker the green-and-honey eyes at it for more than a second. She’s never been fortunate to meet an Android. But she’s heard staring at them makes them uncomfortable. Still, the knowledge doesn’t seem to change much of her outward demeanour and after giving his hand a surprisingly firm shake for all of her bird-bones and wispiness, she holds up the index fingers on both hands and shakes them at him. “Right. I’m so sorry,” she murmurs. “So, there’s several times of death.”  In professional capacity she does her best to enunciate, even if a trace of her natural accent tends to remain, and thus some of her words have an odd emphasis.  “Estimated time is what I’ll offer. Legal time is what will be recorded on the certificate. And physiological time is when the victim’s vital functions actually ceased. “What we have here is clear signs of lividity throughout the body, an’ with rigor mortis beginning in the face, my rough estimate is about 5 hours. Obvious blunt force trauma to the back of the head, but to know for sure, I’m going to have to take her home an’ crack her open. Now I understand you’ve got a lot of work but you’re welcome to pay us a call now, or swing by later an’ check on our girl.”

[mysterycitrus]

realistically speaking all the disk horse about bruce or clark being the more accepting parent/mentor is frankly blown out of the water by diana (princess of scissor island) and oliver queen (who probably has every possible variation of ‘proud dad of a [sexuality and/or gender] superstar’ and ‘i love my emotionally regulated [sexuality and/or gender] kid’ shirts on rotation in his closet)

[relentlessgrief]

every so often i get on pinterest and get recommended that one person who took connor’s art i comm’d and are using him for their own oc called dr mayhem who apparently has the whole mexican cartel under his thumb and honestly

good for connor living that second life i guess

[reginamillls]

idk if I can handle another wild day of 911 fandom, I might need to stop at Spies and Bees

[lncarnon]

brain stopped working for writing but at least i got a few asks done. yesterday i added saint olms, mary, and connor though the latter doesn't have his page set up yet

[obeydesigned]

OPEN STARTER !

the   rk800   entered   the   police   station   with   quantified   movements,   each   step   calculated   and   measured   and   executed   with   fluid,   near   human,   steps.   he   sat   stiffly   in   the   chair   he   had   been   previously   assigned   to,   but   with   no   tasks   at   hand   and   no   obvious   challenges   to   address   the   android   had   started   to   grow   —   antsy?   perhaps   it   was   part   of   the   programming,   making   sure   the   machine   didn’t   sit   idle   for   too   long.   he   stood   up,   adjusting   the   jacket   and   tie   he   wore   and   headed   towards   the   break room   where   a   galled   detective   spent   no   time   shoulder-checking   the   android   and   telling   him   to   piss   off.            ‘   i   apologize.   ’         connor   said   with   a   smooth,   neutral   tone.   despite   the   apology   the   human   took   the   lid   off   their   coffee   and   held   it   out.            ‘   i   wonder   what   happens   if   you   spill   hot   coffee   all   over   a   bot?   will   it   short   circuit?   ’         the   detective   inquired   with   a   smug   grin.            ‘   i   can   assure   you   that   if   you   pour   your   coffee   on   me   it   will   simply   be   a   waste   of   coffee.   ’         connor   replied,   taking   a   more   diplomatic   approach   to   this   confrontation.   but   even   so   the   human   slowly   poured   their   coffee   down   the   front   of   connors   tie   and   white   shirt,   soaking   the   front   and   part   of   his   pants.            ‘   fuckin’   job stealer.   ’            the   human   sneered   before   walking   away.   connor,   for   a   moment   just   stood   still,   processing   what   just   occurred,   all   while   his   led   flashed   an   aggressive   yellow.   that   was   unprompted   and   a   part   of   connor   wondered…   was   it   deserved?

[redhead-reporter]

red = odin // orange = connor

BECAUSE I CAN! THAT'S WHY!!!

º ✧ 。@the1ongcon and @alldaddy are DEFINITELY BOTH mj's type !

not connor out here checking more boxes than her WHOLE FIANCÉ !

[tenebriism]

// violently tweaks out

I need more Detroit: Become Human mutuals, omg. The way my hyperfocus just shifted right back to this amazing game and Best Boy Connor... I might have to replay it tonight.

[visiblesecrets]

@paddyfuck said: "I think you'd like this." She was an old woman, now, and moving around her home was no easy feat. John had done his best to repair the loose florboards, though they still groaned under the weight of her boot. As she reached into the drawer, she moved to pull out an old pistol of his grandfathers. Oh, she remembered how it felt when he'd gifted it to her after she had thrown her own at the face of a member of the royal navy, and how miserable she'd been when it had scuttled across the deck and into the ocean, never to be seen in again. "It belonged to your grandfather." Anne turned to Connor with a wry smile, and made her way over to him. "Even has his initials carved into the wood of it. Don't know if it'll be much use, but sentimentality is something I've never been able to kick."

Drafty wooden beams seemed to sway in motion to the breeze as if wind had caught in its sail, had it not indeed been a home in solid need of repair. Yet it suited its occupant, pealing paint flaking and chipped bespoke of better days - weathered and worn a face that matched, etched with wrinkles of adventures long past. However, the eyes that set themselves in the woman that bade him closer, told that they had never changed despite all that had. Soothing, salving, searching his own in mute keenness that told him she knew more than what his letters had prescribed. Though in truth, she had been the unexpected one, eager in her way to help him regardless of the cause that haunted and nearly destroyed all that the kenways held dear. To all affected in unseen explanations of greater power, simply omnipotent.

Sure of foot were steps poised as if he were traversing the weakest point of a branch -- wincing everytime a creak sounded from too much pressure, only to shift on feet balancing like a dancer to mitigate some of his hulking weight as he met her approach in gentle strides. Fingertips grazed the spontaneous curves and grooves that rough hewn wood had been carved to make such a barrel nearly a century old and water logged to the point of warping -- its mass some how heavy compared to the ones hidden in his robes.

"I hope I have not disturbed you at all.", hesitant at first came softness of speech, digits tracing the cracking lettering at the base of the weapon now firmly cradled in his mits. Caramel hues lingering there momentarily, unwilling to look into her gaze that at times seemed to nearly read every thought lain bare in his. Their introduction at her door had been brief, but it had felt as the universe was on its edge, every breath humming with a decision not yet made.

"I was hoping I could learn more about my grandfather. Through your eyes." He continues, his grip on the pistol tightening as if it were going to slip from him -- as he were a child again holding on to a security blanket despite nearly being twice her size. What had remained of his family had only been materialized and no matter how hard he pushed the thoughts away, still there was a shred of him that wished to know his own father. How unless it was to dream of people that no longer existed.

[normaltothemax]

@detectiveconnor​

A hysterical laugh bubbles out of him at the sight of red slipping between his fingers. When he speaks, the words are almost incredulous, a surprised, “That’s a lot of blood.” Holy shit, he’d been stabbed. He’d been mugged and he’d been stabbed. Man, fuck this city. Clutching at his abdomen, he stares down and watches the way the stain on his shirt oh so slowly grows. His eyes are wild when he glances up at the guy, panicked. “It doesn’t...this should hurt, right? I feel like this should hurt a lot more than it does.” That was shock, wasn’t it? He didn’t have much medical knowledge, but he was sure that going into shock was a bad thing.

[strxngertogether]

@stonesunk || Continued from here

Connor sits on Caitlyn's bed (their bed, he has to remind himself) with his legs pulled up to his chest and his face hiding in his knees. He's so clearly crying despite his straight face and his efforts to steady his voice. He shakes his head adamantly. That's not what's happening. Well, it's kinda always what's happening. They don't feel able to express any negative emotion (except anger when someone needs to get punched), never truly feeling that their pain is as valid or as painful as everyone else's. But it's not really what he's talking about, despite how related it is.

Oh... when Caitlyn asks him what he needs... he doesn't think anyone's asked him that in a very long time and it startles him. Instinct tells him to hide his needs, but he's also so used to suppressing them that he doesn't entirely know what they are. He forms an answer though and he hesitates. "I need to know I'm not going insane." Cait can't provide that though. He knows he is. "You're gonna fuckin' hate me..." He knows Caitlyn is still healing and he doesn't want to take that away from her. He's also afraid that if she finds out just how often he drinks and that he's funding the few shimmer dealers left in Zaun that she'll finally hate him and decide she doesn't want him around anymore. Then he'll be truly alone...

"I can hear her. All the time." His voice is quiet and deep, fear and disgust all wrapped into one as his voice breaks. It comes out as barely a whisper, like he's afraid the Jinx his mind has made up will hear them and make her presence known. Sometimes, it's a comfort, saying things they need or want to hear. Other times, she says things that terrify him, convince him of the worst things about himself. Sometimes, he can hear his mom singing in the middle of night and feel her stroking his hair. They don't know whether they should be scared or comforted... The worst though is when Jinx or their mom or Vander or Mylo, anyone is standing right in the room, never quite right. As he thinks about it in detail, he can feel them clawing at his back, weighing heavily on his shoulders, pushing him down, down, down. He tries to shake it off, as if a chill takes over him.

They try to focus on Caitlyn's soft, comforting hand instead. Hesitant, as if feeling he doesn't deserve the comfort, he reaches for her and takes her hand in theirs, squeezing in an attempt to solidify and ground themself.

[eventheodds]

.

[relentlessgrief]

writing a callout post for my own oc because if you show them a modicum of kindness they wanna immediately befriend you or will fall for you

[spungolden]

* sometimes i think abt adding dio and blakes npcs but then i see the tree and im like :) maybe not

[lncarnon]

im going to install and replay through fable 3 to get good screenshots of the balverines

[dvilsdesire]

// WELL THE VOTES ARE IN! HAARLEP IS NOW GOING TO FUCK A SKELETON TO SHUT YOU ALL UP! XD

// Might have finally found someone Haarlep can't actually fuck... A skeleton 😂