2018-10-10 00:44![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cyberlifeslastchance
cyberlifeslastchanceOne minute, no one stood on that particular patch of beach - the next, someone did. Slim and six-foot-zero, what appeared to be a Caucasian human male in his late twenties stopped mid-stride and looked around. He had brown eyes and brown hair perfectly swept back in a close cut except for one small lock over his left temple that seemingly refused to be tamed. Embedded in the flesh of his right temple was a glowing ring, an LED that was yellow and spinning. Confusion could be seen in the man's dark eyes as he looked this way and that, taking in his new, sudden surroundings.
Perhaps the most striking about him was his manner of dress, crisp and business-like - white dress shirt, black tie, dark jeans, black dress shoes, all secondary to a well-fitted, semi-formal jacket. High across the backs of the young man's shoulders - in bold, light grey lettering - was the word "ANDROID." Below that was a large, upright triangle of that glowed a bright blue, and below that, a thin blue line of trim and "RK800" in white, both also glowing softly. On the left front breast, the man bore another, smaller triangle in the same, softly glowing bright blue, and on the right, in prominent reflective white characters "RK800" was repeated, with a series of digits embroidered in white beneath that - "313 248 317 -52". The triangles and lettering were all dynamic display surfaces formed from tiny LEDs embedded in the fabric. There was an armband of LEDs around the man's right upper arm in the same glowing blue as the triangles he bore. The armband and the triangle on the left breast might or might not put one in mind of the discriminatory yellow star and armband that German Jews were forced to wear in the days leading up to WWII.
The android, designation "Connor," stood frozen for a long moment, looking around as he attempted to process the sudden change of . . . of everything - of scenery, of time of day, of temperature and humidity and barometric levels, of apparent dress code. Blinking, he attempted to calculate his position on the globe based on position and intensity of the sun - it seemed to be noon or so, where it had been nearing early evening a moment ago! - but he simply lacked enough data to make that determination. Perhaps he was glitching? He quickly ran a self-diagnostic but could find no faults in his biocomponents or his programming. A frown crossed his face as his logic protocols warred with what was right in front of him. The LED in his temple flickered red for an instant before resettling to yellow, still spinning anxiously.
Well, he'd learn little by just standing there. Time to find people to interview regarding what had just happened to him.
Perhaps the most striking about him was his manner of dress, crisp and business-like - white dress shirt, black tie, dark jeans, black dress shoes, all secondary to a well-fitted, semi-formal jacket. High across the backs of the young man's shoulders - in bold, light grey lettering - was the word "ANDROID." Below that was a large, upright triangle of that glowed a bright blue, and below that, a thin blue line of trim and "RK800" in white, both also glowing softly. On the left front breast, the man bore another, smaller triangle in the same, softly glowing bright blue, and on the right, in prominent reflective white characters "RK800" was repeated, with a series of digits embroidered in white beneath that - "313 248 317 -52". The triangles and lettering were all dynamic display surfaces formed from tiny LEDs embedded in the fabric. There was an armband of LEDs around the man's right upper arm in the same glowing blue as the triangles he bore. The armband and the triangle on the left breast might or might not put one in mind of the discriminatory yellow star and armband that German Jews were forced to wear in the days leading up to WWII.
The android, designation "Connor," stood frozen for a long moment, looking around as he attempted to process the sudden change of . . . of everything - of scenery, of time of day, of temperature and humidity and barometric levels, of apparent dress code. Blinking, he attempted to calculate his position on the globe based on position and intensity of the sun - it seemed to be noon or so, where it had been nearing early evening a moment ago! - but he simply lacked enough data to make that determination. Perhaps he was glitching? He quickly ran a self-diagnostic but could find no faults in his biocomponents or his programming. A frown crossed his face as his logic protocols warred with what was right in front of him. The LED in his temple flickered red for an instant before resettling to yellow, still spinning anxiously.
Well, he'd learn little by just standing there. Time to find people to interview regarding what had just happened to him.
(no subject)
Pressing the button for the floor of the Five-O offices, the door closes and the car starts to move. "Granted, but... If the owner of an animal asks me to shoot that animal, but the animal offers no threat and there's no reason for it to die, I wouldn't do it. Even for valuable information." Steve carefully considers Connor, wondering how he's going to respond. And, how he does is very important to Steve. It's not just a hypothetical question or scenario. Regardless of his personal views, if Connor is a threat to the people of Hawaii then Steve will need to plan differently. As he's not familiar with Cyberlife or exactly what Connor has been programmed for, he'll need to take Connor's word and follow his gut, but first he needs to make sure those two things are on the same page.
"All of us who just turned up here, don't belong here."
There's a chime and the elevator doors open. Since Connor doesn't know where he's going, Steve exits the car first, but waits for Connor to join him before he starts to move - down the hall, then a left will take them to the glass doors of Five-O.
"Let's not get to far ahead of ourselves. We're headed to my office where we can talk. You can tell me more about yourself and what you're going to need to exist here for the time being. We've settled in others who were different, let's see what we can do for you." He's not making any promises. Not yet, but he's not closing any doors yet either.
(no subject)
He doesn't really know how to respond to the rest, so he just nods and follows easily, once more taking up position a step behind Steve's right shoulder as is his rightful position.
(no subject)
Opening the door to the Five-O offices, Steve indicates for Connor to enter first and then leads them to his office. On the way there, he spots his older self in his own office. They make eye contact and Steve nods, conveying that all is okay, to which his older self nods back and returns his attention to his computer. Connor would also be able to see the older version of Steve, there's approximately six years of aging between them. Older Steve has filled out but is still in excellent shape and his hair is considerably shorter. Connor may notice that Kahuna also seems to be more relaxed than the younger version. Less tension in the shoulder and looser in the limbs.
The door to Steve's office is open, he indicates for Connor to take a seat before entering himself and closing the door. Instead of sitting at his desk, he perches on the corner of it. "Okay, so tell me the basics. What do I need to know about you? You mentioned a handler, what kind of qualifications does that entail? What do you need to function? Do you need to eat or recharge in some fashion? What else do I need to know?"
(no subject)
Androids deserve better too, of course <3Also I meant to comment . . . I FREAKING LOVE that "Kahuna" stuck! XD Flint's so proud of that.))Connor moves as indicated, entering the offices before following once more to Steve's. At the look and nod, the android turns to spot whom it is that Steve acknowledges, LED swirling slowly (still blue) as he scans the older man. It isn't even a matter of 'they're obviously related, must be brothers,' they are 'obviously identical twins' but for the age difference. Had Connor needed any proof of Steve's claims, he certainly has it. He notes the differences between the two, filing the data away with covert interest.
He steps into the indicated office, seeing the gesture but not sure if he should actually sit or if it's more a habitual gesture. To be safe, he does as his programming demands, shifting to a discreet position in a corner of the office facing the desk with his hands loosely clasped in front of him. He's still within easy conversational distance as Steve perches on the corner of the desk. He nods at the questions.
"Hello, I am an RK800 'Connor' series prototype android, designed to operate as a detective's assistant." He'd shifted to a neutral tone and expression, beginning to recite his initialization text, but then he pauses to offer a little shrug, a small, self-deprecating grin on his face as he adds wryly, "A...'plastic cop,' if you want." He'd heard it before. Especially from the belligerent Detective Reed. That said, he continues. "I can scan a crime scene for clues, analyze evidence in real-time, and reconstruct likely events. I can aid in the apprehension of suspects, though I'm not authorized to make an arrest myself. I am not licensed to carry a weapon as a normal matter of course, but I can be issued one if a particular task or mission requires it, and I am proficient to one hundred percent accuracy in most conditions with all manner of personal firearms, from pistols to sniper and assault rifles. I can conduct interrogations, and can be utilized as a negotiator in hostage situations. I can be sent into environments and situations deemed too dangerous for my human counterparts." He hesitates a beat before continuing, going off-script as he knows this was something Steve wouldn't know. "An android can be damaged and even destroyed with little to no consequence. It'll simply be replaced. Human life, on the other hand, is invaluable. Androids are designed to serve and protect humans. We are forbidden from ever harming or endangering one." He frowns a bit. "That's why deviants must be stopped. They go so far from their proper programming that they become unpredictable and dangerous, even to the point of harming and killing humans." But...that's getting even further away from the questions he was asked, so he pulls himself back to the matters at hand.
"As for a handler . . . androids are not meant to operate independently. Because of my function, I have more autonomy and social relations programming than any other model, but even I am not meant or allowed to operate without a human overseeing me. An android is purchased by a human, and that human is its owner. Its master, if you will. As a prototype, I'm not available for sale. I still belong to CyberLife. But an entire company as a whole cannot oversee or direct me. They have other things to focus on. So I have a handler, Amanda, who acts in the place of an owner. She isn't my master - I belong to CyberLife the company - but she is my liaison. I report to her my findings, my doings, what I've learned, and she gives me my missions. My current mission is-" He stops suddenly, and looks like he'd swallow nervously if he were capable. "Well...was...until about ten minutes before finding myself here..." He huffs softly before continuing. "I-in my mission to hunt down deviants and find a way to stop deviancy from occurring, I was assigned to a human detective in the Detroit Police Department - Lieutenant Hank Anderson." He hesitates as he thinks about what qualifications a handler would need. "I'm not sure what exactly would determine who is my handler. It would be either my owner or whomever I'm assigned to, to report to and receive my missions from. The only thing I need to function is guidance. No need to feed or recharge me. I am equipped with a quantic battery that makes me autonomous for one hundred seventy-three years. I speak three hundred languages." He pauses again, LED swirling slowly as he considers. "I do not know what else you may need to know, but you are of course welcome to ask questions and I will answer to the best of my ability, inasmuch as I am allowed without violating CyberLife's proprietary rights. If I think of anything else, I will be sure to tell you."
(no subject)
That Connor doesn't sit doesn't really register for Steve. It was an offer, not a command, and if Connor prefers to stand then he's not concerned about it one way or the other.
The little additions to what is clearly a preprogrammed speech say more to Steve than the information in the speech itself. It's clear to him that Connor has been referred to as a 'plastic cop' and while he accepts the term, it's not one that he likes or appreciates. The way it's said, Steve takes that it's almost like a reminder to Connor that's all he is - when he's far much more than that by feeling that way at all. Otherwise he listens and makes note of all the skills and abilities that Connor possesses.
Certain things stand out to him though. How can Connor be a successfully interrogator or negotiator if he doesn't have the ability to truly understand those he is interacting with? Have they moved so much further in Connor's time that psychology has found a way to reduce emotion and behavior to something that can be scripted and manipulated. It's something Steve needs to determine sooner rather than later - but even thinking that makes him pause. They don't do this type of interview with all of the new arrivals. Is it really fair for him to be treating Connor different? Is he any better than those who prejudged him on the barge? He bites his bottom lip as he debates how to proceed. In his mind he rationalizes that he's different because he's making the attempt to understand without judging, or at least before doing so.
"Do you have a theory as to what's causing the deviancy to happen? Do you know what's motivating the change or what their purpose or goal is by becoming so?"
It doesn't sound to Steve that Connor can just be assigned an apartment and left to his own resources to settle in. The Welcome Center is designed to help people get established, including finding foster homes for children, but this feels beyond their scope to Steve. Connor needs a partner, someone to work with, but not necessarily a master or owner - which is a relief to Steve. Still, he needs more information here. "When you were working with Lieutenant Anderson, where did you go when he was off duty?"
He's got a basic idea forming, but before he starts sharing his thoughts he has a couple more things he'd like answers to first. "For the time being, while you're here, are you able to put that mission on hold and still function?" Steve considers another moment, once again biting on his bottom lip. "If you had the option of doing anything you wanted, what would you like to do?"
Cheats and C/Ps from the D:BH script XD;;;
"What if we're on the wrong side, Connor? What if we're fighting against people who just wanna be free?" Hank's words from less than a half-hour ago (by Connor's internal chronometer) echo back to him. He pushes them away for now.
"When Lieutenant Anderson was off-duty, I returned to CyberLife for repairs if needed and to cycle in standby." He hesitates at the last question, his words to Kamski at a similar query coming back on him - "What I want is...not important." "I . . . I don't know what I'd do, giving the option. I've never thought about that."
Re: Cheats and C/Ps from the D:BH script XD;;;
No matter what Steve thinks of Connor's time and the situation he comes from, he has the answer he needs. Connor, being an android as it's been described to him, has the ability to become deviant at any time. As such, it's Steve responsibility to make sure that should it happen, Connor doesn't end up killing any humans. He can't control whether or not Connor ends up having emotional trauma, but he can make sure that he's treated the way any other human or being is treated here - which sounds like what the deviants want - freedom, equality and respect.
Unfortunately the way Connor presents he doesn't see that happening naturally. Steve knows the time they are in now though. He knows what people are like and what people will do should they find out Connor is an android.
"Alright. Well. You get to think about that now. We have a lot of people coming in from different realities and worlds. For some, it's a fresh start. It can be for you too." Tilting his head, Steve bites his lower lip as he contemplates how to word the next without being insulting. "While you're here though, others can't know you're an android. I'd like to suggest that you make your mission, while here, to prevent others from finding out what you really are. I'll help. Anyway that I can, but for your safety, it's better that no one else finds out. At least for now."
(no subject)
He's reluctant, but he's been given an order - by a human, a human of authority - and he must obey it.
"I...I understand, Steve." Slowly, he'll slip out of his jacket, neatly folding it over one arm so that the markers are hidden. With the dark jeans, dark tie, and crisp dress shirt, the only thing keeping him from passing as a casual businessman is the glowing ring in his temple, yellow with mild distress.
(no subject)
"I'm sorry, Connor. I wish that I didn't need to ask you that of you." The lower lip is worried between his teeth again and he crosses his arms over his chest. "I assume they have undercover in the future? Would it help if we considered my request to be like that?" Another pause, then... "Tell me how I can help make this better or easier for you. Do you have questions or concerns?"
Finally a tag a year later...or at least THE NEXT YEAR later...
Most of that was simply true, but partly it was that he didn't want another gut-punch for disobedience. Steve wasn't Gavin, of course . . . but he had the same right of action over or against Connor.
"I do not have any other questions or concerns at this time."
Re: Finally a tag a year later...or at least THE NEXT YEAR later...
"All right. When you do, please don't hesitate to bring them to my attention. I'm a bit out of my depth here and I want to make sure you're as comfortable as you can be."
With a tilt of his head, Steve huffed out another breath. "The light at your temple.... We're going to need to have a cover story for that. People will ask. And, we need to discuss what to do with you. You can stay with me during the day while I'm at work." He was fairly sure he could make Connor his partner without a lot of backlash. He'd done it with Danny after all and look how well that turned out. "The rest of the time though..."
Steve bit his bottom lip as he contemplated options.
(no subject)
"I'm...from the future, since just in interactions alone, that will probably slip anyway. My LED is...part of a brain implant that...allows me to access digital information." He looked up at Steve, the question clear in his eyes - will that work? "I am able to tap into any machine or signal system wirelessly, so long as it's capable of wireless contact. As for what to do with me . . . you said you work with a task force here on the islands? Allowing me to follow you at work would be a good use of my capabilities. Again, I was designed to serve law enforcement as a detective. The rest of the time, you don't need to worry about me. I can just stay at the office. I do not sleep so I can continue work if that would be of help."
(no subject)
"How much do you know about the past? I'm wondering mostly about things people can wager on - making the information you have very valuable." He expected Connor would understand how humans would try to exploit him or become threatening if they thought they could make money with the information he had.
Crossing his arms, Steve leaned back against his desk in a casual and relaxed position as they started to work out the details. "I doubt my older self will have any issue with me taking you on as my partner, so that shouldn't be a problem. You staying here at night to work however will be. Humans sleep. And even those who keep odd hours want time to do their own thing." Biting his lip, Steve thought about this further. "Also, if you're going to live as a human, you need to appear to behave as one." Steve's fingers tapped on his arms while he thought things over. Until Connor was settled into his new life and role, he didn't want him in the housing complex. Too many variables and too many things could go wrong - far too easily and quickly. He needed a more controllable environment with few people. At the same time, this wasn't completely up to him. He was here to guide and support, not be in full command.
"Normally we set up those who arrive here in an apartment complex. I'm a bit leery of doing that in your situation. At least right away." Thinking another moment he then nodded. "I'd like to offer that you come live with me. It's not fully ideal, my sister and a female friend already reside at the house, but I have an unfinished garage right off the house. It wouldn't take much to turn it into a proper room and that could be yours. You'd have access to the internet, and we could move a TV in there along with anything else you'd like."
(no subject)
"As for the past, do you mean things like professional sports?" He shook his head. "No, I'm afraid not. I would think the upcoming android quarterback model will be programmed with such things as knowledge of past football games and their related statistics, for example, but that kind of data was not information deemed pertinent to load into the memory banks of an investigative model."
He listened attentively as Steve went on to remind him to think like a human, at least in terms of general behaviors, what humans do and don't do as both necessity and recreation. He tilted his head a bit, though, at one comment. "Not fully ideal. Meaning bringing a male stranger into your home with your sister and friend? I can assure you that they are safe in that regard. I lack both the physical equipment and the emotional drive to assault a woman, and should any man try, I will defend them. You have my word."
(no subject)
Steve raised an eyebrow at the idea of an 'upcoming android quarterback model'. Sports must be considerably different in the future. He couldn't imagine the fans allowing that much of a change here. But, that was moving off topic and Connor had answered his question. "Good. That will help matters when people find out your from the future. Not everyone is into sports so..." Steve shrugged as if he didn't understand why that was.
Frowning slightly he shook his head. "That's not..." He paused and then nodded. "Okay, that's very good to know and I greatly appreciate hearing that you would defend my sister and friend. I do have a threat against them and having another person at the house to help me keep them safe will actually be a comfort." At least for Steve, Mary might not agree. "But, that's not what I meant to insinuate. I meant that unless you are alone, you'll need to keep up the charade in their presence. A more ideal situation would be one that allowed you to be who you are. I'm sorry that you have to keep that hidden."
(no subject)
The "okay, don't hack" with a chuckle made Connor grin again. It felt good that Steve seemed so comfortable with him. It reminded him of how comfortable he and Hank had grown . . . which in turn made him think about how it was that he felt 'good' or really anything at all.
"You showed empathy, Connor. Empathy is a human emotion."
Another thing he felt was . . . embarrassment? Something, he wasn't sure what - at taking Steve's meaning wrong. And then something else at "I do have a threat against them." Connor nodded, all business now. "It's all right. I'll do whatever you feel I need to, and I'll do my best to keep up the pretense that I'm human." He paused a beat before pursuing the lead Steve had hinted at. "What is this threat you mentioned?"
(no subject)
Biting his lower lip, Steve dropped his gaze a moment before speaking to the floor. "As I mentioned before, this isn't my reality either. In both mine and this reality there's a man named Wo Fat who had a grudge against my family. He influenced the death of my mother, and ordered the murder of my father. In both timelines he had my younger sister Mary kidnapped when she started looking into my mother's death." Steve paused to lick his lips and his voice got a bit lower, more tense like he was controlling any emotion from escaping. "In this reality, Steve rescued his sister. In mine..." His voice trailed off and a pained look quickly crossed his features. "In this reality, Steve killed Wo Fat about 4 years back when Wo Fat kidnapped him for information. In mine I was taken a few months after Mary's disappearance."
Another deep inhale and Steve looked up at Connor. He was skipping over details, but they weren't important to this particular story. "The Wo Fat my my reality though is here. He seems... More focused on me here than from what Steve describes happened in this timeline. He's attacked and stalked Mary, the teenage version of my sister who lives with me, a couple of times and he seen me dancing with Mollie at a party and he's gone after her too. The house is well fortified and has alarms. Steve also lives next door. Both Mollie and Mary have a protection detail on them when they leave the house as well but..." Wo Fat was a psycho. At any moment he could attack.
(no subject)
His brow furrowed as Steve shifted gears, expression darkening the more the story unfolded. By the end, his gaze was hard, face an expressionless mask, hinting at the cold, efficient machine Connor was capable of being. He now had, after all, the two things he needed to operate - a partner . . . and a mission.
"If he's still out there, he needs to be tracked down and brought to justice. Just give the word, Commander, and I'll get to work."
(no subject)
At Connor's response, Steve looked to his face, a bit surprised at the conviction he heard, and saw, there. Wo Fat's actions had impacted and upset many, but Steve hadn't intended for Connor to take it on as a personal mission. Not that Steve was complaining or would turn away Connor's assistance. Steve desperately wanted to get Wo Fat and would do anything he possibly could to achieve that goal.
"I agree," Steve said with a nod. "The problem is, he has lots of contacts and ways to stay hidden and under the radar. He's well trained and for a long time was head of the Yakuza. I'm fairly sure they're still financing and helping him." With a short pause he offered Connor a weak smile. "I won't turn down any assistance you can provide with finding him. Just, be careful. Wo Fat is a mastermind of finding ways to get to people and making them suffer. I don't want you to get caught in his games." Who knows what he'd do to Connor if he found out the truth about him.
(no subject)
He nodded again at the rest. "I was programmed to hunt deviants. Specifically deviant androids, but ultimately deviants and criminals of all kinds. His money and his contacts will only get him so far. If he uses any kind of online or signal-based forms of communication to coordinate with his cohorts and backers, I should be able to track down a lead."
He let his expression soften, understanding that Steve was worried for him. "For what it's worth, androids don't feel pain and cannot be forced to talk short of a memory probe. I'll be okay."
"...androids don't feel pain..." That was, in reality, only mostly true. Connor possessed the memories of the RK800 unit before him. When his predecessor has been shot across the outside of its arm, he knew it had registered the damage but had felt no pain. As was expected. But when he'd been jumped by the deviant in the abandoned apartment under Urban Farms, it had managed to jar him enough to actually disorient him for an instant. The dents and abrasions he got from fighting the Tracis behind Eden Club had registered for sure. Getting shot on the rooftop of the Stratford Tower, though? He didn't know how else to describe it - that had hurt.
Still . . . he was an android, the most advanced prototype CyberLife had ever created. He had failed his last mission. He wouldn't fail this one.