❛ my model number? i am an RK800. ❜ he doesn’t think he understands what hank’s getting at. floyd owes him? what’s he trying to say? that he can get floyd mills to agree to give him to the detroit police department? it can’t be that easy. it won’t be that easy. he’s legal property of the eden club. he doesn’t belong anywhere else. he can’t leave. not legally. he doubts floyd would be willing to giving him away regardless of how much he might ‘owe’ the lieutenant. the owner of the club had taken quite the shine to him from the very first day he was sold.
why does hank want him anyways? did he not hear what he said earlier? that he kept failing his missions. he is defective. defective in more ways than one. became like that WR400 and broken his programming. a deviant. he remembers now. the name that had been used to describe others like him. he had been designed to hunt them.
❛ another eight hours and forty-two seconds. ❜ he moves, sits on his knees and pulling the sheet with him. it’s comforting, in a way that he can’t describe, to have something covering him. not that he’s cold. nor ashamed. or embarrassed. he’s been living in nothing but those booty shorts for months and before that, he was usually skinless and without need for proper clothes. he can’t remember what real clothes feel like. dark browns eyes stare at the older man. sheet clung to his chest like a lifeline. eyes wide. his LED spins madly. his voice small. uncertain. does hank know what he is? that he could get killed if anyone finds out what he is? ❛ why? ❜
❝Floyd was here when I came in right? I saw the dipshits face. Should still be here.❞ Hank tapped his fingers against his leg and then stood from the bed and made his way to the door. Not waiting for Connor he hit the button on it and stepped outside, glancing around before wandering his way through Eden Club. It took him a little under two minutes to find the man, he hadn't wandered far from the door apparently concerned that things were going to go well. Hank had caused Connor quite a few problems just getting him into the room.
❝Hank. Connor not—servicing you well?❞
God that was creepy. ❝Connor's doin' just fine. I rented him to ask him a few questions actually. You know, without causing suspicion. After all, never know what's listening.❞ That gained the mans attention and he glance sideways over Hank's shoulder before looking back to him. ❝So, Floyd, I got a business proposition for you. How'd you like to make quite a bit extra money?❞
There's a worried look in his eyes, like he doesn't trust Hank and he absolutely shouldn't. But the man was always over money than anything else so he waves at Hank to explain. Which he was absolutely going to do, there was no way he was leaving this place without Connor, and there was no way Floyd wouldn't agree to some form of money if there was a higher outcome for him.
❝So, while Connor and I were talking we learned a few quirks about his system. Well I learned he spoke to me like a fuckin' walking toaster oven with an instruction manual.❞ There's a relief in Floyd's expression and Hank figured there would be. The man did just have one of his ansdroids go bat shit crazy, doesn't want another doing it. ❝While talkin' to him about your previous Traci we were investigating he managed to pull up a few files on similar cases, spoke like he understood things a bit to well. Kids like a walkin' police scanner. So I'd got an idea.❞
Shifting he watches Floyd closely, edging his way into it all carefully. ❝I want to borrow Connor, for the duration of the Eden Club cases. Not for free, mind you, I understand how this all... works.❞ He motioned toward the club and he could already see the dollar signs in Floyd's eyes. ❝Pay ya what it charges to rent one and if he's broken or damaged you'll be reimbursed. All curtsy of the DPD.❞
❝You really think Connor can help you? What do you think Connor? Can the thing even do that?❞
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