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|| Connor DBH || Indie RP Blog || sideblog to panicsprey

[obstsaft]

                             My name is Connor. I’m the android sent by CyberLife.

[sentfromcyberlife]

hehatesandroids || Lieutenant Anderson

Connor’s deviancy apparently came at the cost of his subtlety.  Or maybe it wasn’t that  –  maybe it was that he didn’t want to lie to Hank or knew that Hank would inevitably catch him  (  ha, fat chance.  damn androids and their damn acting skills.  he still remembers the way that Connor clone played him like a flute.  )  .  The man might have felt a pang of honor if not for the fact that he knew that Connor has locked something away in his bathroom.  What Connor imagined to be a casual tone was more reminiscent of a child with his hand in the cookie jar than anything else.

     “Perpetuate his what?  Ideal time to get him a p  –  Connor.”  Incredulous, he can’t help but gape.  That answers the question of what exactly was in his bathroom.  “Hell no.  Sumo can’t have kids, Connor.  He’s neut–… never mind.  Not gonna fucking open up that can of worms.”  He runs a tired hand through his hair, feeling some odd mixture of amusement and awe at the situation at hand.  “Alright, Connor.  ‘Fess up.  What’s in the bathroom?”

     And just in case that wasn’t enough incentive, he steps up to the door and places his hand on the doorknob.  “If you don’t tell me, I’m gonna open the door in five seconds.”

    Connor could recover from this. If he wanted to, he was certain he could come up with a lie and deliver it convincingly. Hank was hardly gullible ( you didn’t get to become the youngest Lieutenant in Detroit history by falling for every goof and gaf out there ). However, Connor had an unfair advantage, being an android. There were avenues he could take out of this hole he had dug for himself. But.... that also involved... explicitly lying to Hank...

    Never had before; why start now?

           He’d feel too guilty...

    Standing, he felt Sumo roll off his lap, lazily groaning. And yes, Connor was already raising his hands in a placating gesture. “Canines learn through observation, be that of humans or other canines.” He bit back the sleepy, lazy lounging comment that Hank would have taken as less favorable than idle observation. “So behaviorally speaking, if you want a dog with similar mannerisms to that of Sumo’s, a common process is to stagger when you take in new dogs, allowing them to learn behaviors and expectations from the training the other predecessors have already taken on. It makes rearing dogs significantly easier while also improving the happiness and quality of life for a natural pack animal-

    “Hank I can explain.”

    Hank’s hand on the door sent Connor fro coy and explanative android to red-handed offender in a heartbeat. And the instant keening that emit from beyond the door at soon as the handle jostled helped absolutely nothing. The LED flicked yellow again. “She was alone, Hank. She was alone, she had no microchip, no collar, and none of the thirty-seven apartments nearby recognized her even when I asked.” Yes. he had knocked on each individual door and inquired; he’d startled and offended half the populace of the complex, but he wanted to be sure. “She showed no aggression, but showed signs of malnutrition and followed me home of her own volition and I felt compelled to help her and she’s so small and-”

    Look, he was just trying and failing to excuse the fact that he had definitely smuggled a small dog into your bathroom, Hank. Just open the door. The corgi within was absolutely ready to introduce herself.

[sentfromcyberlife]

hehatesandroids || Lieutenant Anderson

As he is during most hours of the day, Hank Anderson was most definitely drunk.  And as he has done every other time he’s drunk, he drives himself home.  He’s done it so often that it’s muscle memory by this point, but when he makes it home and squints at his keychain for his house key, he realized that he was looking for something that wasn’t there.  It’s his own damn fault for removing it when he was sober and forgetting that drunk Hank was a goddamn mess.

     Connor catches him a split second after he knocks the window open with the barrel of his gun, while he oh-so-charmingly had his upper body squeezed through the window pane and one leg hooked over the ledge.  “Huuh?  Whassat?  Whossere?”  Not the most eloquent of greetings, but neither was breaking through his own window.  “S’that you, Connor?”

     Of course it was.  Who else would be in his home, waiting for him?  Bet he was just sitting at the door with Sumo waiting for him to come home again.

     Did he forget his keys?  He decides to lie,  “Heeellll no.  You think–you think I’d do that?  Just forget my keys?  I just wanted to show you what it’s like, y’bastard–show you what it’s like when someone breaks a goddamn window instead of coming through the door like a normal person.”  Note that this was all said while the lieutenant wobbled on the only leg he had left to stand on.  Trying to talk and go through the window at the same time was nigh impossible when he was this wasted.

     And in his impaired state of mind, he still thinks trying to climb through the window is the right choice of action rather than go through the front door like he was lecturing Connor to do.  Frankly, it’s a tight squeeze, but he manages to lift himself up and over  –  and he makes it into his home, but only by falling forward, flat on his face.

     “Ow–”  It was all he could manage to say with his cheek pressed into the tiles of his kitchen floor.  Alcohol dulled the pain for now, but he’ll be feeling this tomorrow, for sure.  “Ssstupid floor.”

   And to use a firearm as a percussive instrument- a quick assessment at least reassured Connor that the gun was mercifully empty. But there was a certain humor to seeing a delirious Hank wedged half-in/half-out of his own window. As the man wrestled with insobriety in an attempt to explain himself, Conor crossed his arms, leaning idly against the doorframe. Sumo’s claws clicked over the tile toward Hank.

    “Of course it’s Connor, Sir.” he mused. Who else would it be? There was a minute smirk on his lips as Hank veritably pooled through the window, splaying out on the floor with all the grace and dignity of a cat in socks. 

    “Not to perforate your logic,” he chided, now joining Sumo to crouch beside the drunkard. “But all this does is break your window. It does you no good. The lesson is a bit moot, given that it does not detriment me whatsoever.” Conversely, he could have just as easily and effectively demonstrated coming through the door like an aforementioned normal person to a much more reasonable and fiscally responsible end. It would have been a better counterargument. This, however, was vastly more amusing.

    There was a fondness in him as Connor sighed ( or as close to sighing as he could manage, more of an emulation of the intent rather than actual sighing ). “We should get you cleaned up. I’ll sweep up the glass and put something in the window’s place to block it off for the night.” He gave Hank a once over. “You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?” Falling in shards of glass, self made or not... for Connor? Hardly concerning. For Hank? Potentially more problematic. Humans weren’t necessarily fragile, but they didn’t have replaceable parts...

[hehatesandroids]

"Lieutenant I meant to ask... you threatened to 'crush me like a beer can' that one time. How exactly did you intend to do that?" Oh there's /definitely/ some facetiousness in that, /Sir./ [[ it me Jay :heart: ]]

@sentfromcyberlife

     “…Un-fucking-believable.”  Sighing, it turns out, was Hank’s natural reaction to just about anything that comes out of Connor’s mouth.  That was true before his deviancy and it went doubly true afterwards.  “You finally get to have a personality and you choose to be a pain in my ass?  Christ.”

     At least the boy’s finally learned to smile in a way that looked halfway natural.  It’s warming enough that Hank’s smiles back.  “And didn’t you say you’d do anything to finish your mission?  How’d that turn out for ya, buddy?”

[detroitrpc]

are you a detroit: become human roleplayer looking for blogs in the very same fandom? well, here is a blog for you to do just that. here’s how you can get on the masterlist, and a little about the blog itself.

the blog will offer an updated masterlist, but also promo’s for blogs will be featured, along with the chance to send positive messages to your fellow roleplayers.

canon characters, original characters, multi-muse blogs, and even those who just have a d:bh verse are allowed to reblog this post to be featured on the list.

REBLOG THIS POST, and please put in the tags whether you write a canon, verse, etc. ( example: #character name, #original character, #multimuse or #verse ) this way we can easily update the list without any hassle.

thank you for taking the time to make sure our community grows and is given all the love it deserves.

[sentfromcyberlife]

@hehatesandroids || Lieutenant Anderson [[ you thought I wouldn’t that’s your folly ]]

    Not a worry, Hank. Connor wasn’t hiding anything at all behind that suspiciously closed bathroom door. Not a thing. Nope. Nothing at all. And there was no specific reason why his eyes kept cutting across the room to peek at the door, or that his LED flashed the briefest moment of yellow each time he did.

    You’d think, for a prototype investigator android who had repeatedly demonstrated prowess in negotiation ( i. e. majorly lying ), that he would be better at this sort of thing. Perhaps it was a person association of guilt, of actual responsibility, that made him falter...

    In what he imagined was a casual way, Connor inquired, “So by my approximation, Sumo is about six years of age, correct?” He stroked the dog idly as he spoke. “... if your intention is to perpetuate his behavior onto the next generation of dog in your life, now would likely be an ideal time to get him a partner... wouldn’t you agree?”

[sentfromcyberlife]

    pictured: me, attempting to be approachable to the wonderful muns of the online world

[babyanimalgifs]

[sentfromcyberlife]

@hehatesandroids || Lieutenant Anderson

    The night was quiet. It wasn’t the first, nor likely the last, time that Connor stayed up, sitting cross-legged on the floor and stroking Sumo as he waited for the door to open. Hank was his own person, and whether things had taken a positive spin the last few weeks or not, Jimmies Bar was still a frequent haunt of the older Lieutenant. And Connor was... well, still not technically allowed there. On this night, it had more been that the android had spent a couple extra hours reading a couple ( hundred ) case files. The Detroit PD, as it were, had no shortage of cases for a sleepless and attentive android to rifle through, and he found it... actually pretty... what was it.... fun? He supposed fun. It was his functionality, sure, but he got a sense of accomplishment from investigations.

    Just needed to learn which files he actually had access to and which he was just going into through backdoors in coding...

    Either way, he’d been sent home by Fowler, and rather than go to see if Hank was still at Jimmies, he’d decided to wander home and wait. He’d expected.... a shorter... wait... and yet there he and Sumo sat. On the floor. Each attentively looking at the door. He supposed there was more he could do with his spare time. But...

    CRASH-!

    He lurched to his feet. A break-in-?! It wasn’t unthinkable, in this part of town ( sorry, Hank, demographics and risk assessment spoke for themselves in the area, you didn’t really choose the best locale- ), but he had not really been anticipating anything like that. If he was quick, he could likely use the chair to-

    Yet as he rounded the corner into the kitchen, he halted, staring perplexedly at the shattered glass. “.... Lieutenant?” There was almost a vacancy to his stare, a vapid disbelief but... but no, there he was... eyes flicking between the brick on the floor and the bleary eyed man listing outside. “.... did you... Sir, did you forget your keys...?” And did you forget I would be here...?

        ...... how many windows have you had to replace over the years, sir...?

[elena-gilbert]

Connor straightens his tie

bonus:

[sentfromcyberlife]

hehatesandroids || Hank Anderson

      “I’ll be real with you, Connor.  At this point, I’d rather look at anything that isn’t that damn suit.”  He said wearily, his gaze flickering to the glowing blue of the uniform.  There was no need to make it so glaringly obvious that he was an android anymore.  Conversely, it was a royal pain in the ass that Connor insisted on wearing the suit and showed no desire for removing that flickering LED of his.  The revolution being successful was all well and good in theory, but prejudice still remained at large.  Hank was only capable of building rapport with android haters in the past when they shared a mutual hate.  Now?  It wasn’t that easy.  “And feelings can too be ‘exercised.’  Take it from someone who’s been burdened with them for years.  Remind me to make you watch a movie sometime.”

     “Hey, look’it that guy over there–hold on, don’t stare too hard, now.”  A well-warranted warning. He knows that Connor had the unnerving tendency to stop and stare when he investigated  –  something Hank specifically watched out for because it was often times the only precursor he had before Connor reached out to lick something disgusting.  “He’s got style…”  He squints.  “…Right?”

     On second glance, maybe not.  The guy looked like something racy enough to have sauntered straight out of Kamski’s pool.  Really, he’s too fucking old for this shopping and fashion bullshit.

     “…Anyway, we’re not leaving until you find something–something to wear on the job and something else to wear at home.”  Hank lays his foot down, knowing that giving Connor some form of objective will give the boy something to strive for.  The lieutenant was more attentive than most  –  you had to be, if you ever wanted to be a beat cop.  One misplaced brick could be the potential hiding spot for a bag of Red Ice.  One nervous tic could reveal a world of secrets.  Naturally, he noticed that Connor might have free will now, but it may be more free will than the android knew what to do with.  Honestly, Hank’s caught him doing some of the weirdest shit in the past month.

     For now  –  baby steps.  “How about a suit store to start?”  He points at the store in question, figuring it’ll be more to Connor’s speed.  The boy needed a tie to adjust after he kicked some ass, after all.  “One that doesn’t glow in the goddamn dark.”

   Anything… that isn’t the suit. Ah, so it was the suit. He supposed the glowing blue of the LED could cause distraction, and was pretty easy to use in identification of androids. If he wouldn’t part with it, would that cause more trouble for Hank in the future? He could see that…. So then it was in Hank’s best interest that Connor complied and purchased new clothes— threads? Was that what he’d called them? Ahh, that made sense, given the composition of clothin—

   … this wasn’t really the time to break down the origin of common vernacular. Connor watched Hank closely. This was probably more effort than Connor typically saw him put in on even cases, making concessions and taking explicit lengths to try to help someone else… something? A machine. He’d hated them so much until just recently, and even then, did those kind of harsh feelings just leave? Did Hank reach some kind of inner peace? Or- well, Connor wasn’t sure he was really the right individual to be asking questions about the longevity of feelings…

   The LED flicked yellow for a brief moment, then he cant a curious brow. “Just any movie, or is there one that you find particularly good for emotional exercise?” He understood that movies tended to elicit visceral reactions in some humans, some even to the point of tears- did Hank cry at movies? Curious… he didn’t seem the sort. But he wouldn’t resist watching movies. He had to do something with the abundant free time he now had.

   An order- look at that guy over there- and Connor felt his head swivel on reflex to look ( but not too hard? Oh, maybe a side glance then ), and he processed- Damien Smithton; Age: 43, Occupation: dental hygienist, Criminal Background: several parking violations outstanding. - … then looked back to Hank at the subsequent question. Oh- oh his style? Connor looked back, his gaze much different this time around. He discerned….

   “Stylistic treads don’t really adhere to stripes this season, Lieutenant. Much less when coupled with perpendicular stripes.” He offered. “And typically you are supposed to find something that complements or adheres to your natural shape. A lot of his outfit seems to hang and drape in ways that would be considered unflattering.” There was the smallest smirk in place as he gazed back. “It does look like something I may find in your closet, though.”

   Ahh, but there it was- an indication of mission criteria: something to wear to work and something to wear at home. Well… could he- was he allowed to just have two different suits…? He supposed that wasn’t really what Hank had in mind, but he could surely get away with something with a similar cut for work attire. And at least he didn’t have to explain to Hank that he’d now donned a suit for long enough that the idea of just going to something else entirely felt weird. He gave an affirmative nod, then followed Hank’s eye line.

   “… I don’t believe any of their inventory would glow.” He jested. Adjusting his tie, he shot an appraising, nearly apprehensive look to the store. Because if he was being entirely honest, he’d never had to worry about things like choosing clothes or understanding style to anything but an objective degree before… it’d just been assigned to him, designed for him. So this could… take him a while. He was commonly used to being told to fall in line behind Hank, but he got the feeling walking beside him wouldn’t be ill-received, so he joined Hank as they walked up to the store.

   The store wasn’t nearly as big on the inside as Connor had anticipated. Ahh, right- these buildings had a top and bottom floor, so City Formal ( analysis: sign in the window proudly proclaims ALL CUSTOM, 100% HUMAN HAND TAILORED!! - anti-android establishment? Processing- ) only occupied the lower level. But the clothing was, at a glance, fine quality. Good material, a large variety of cuts, colors, sizes, and the back area was designed to offer seclusion and privacy for the more intimate parts of tailoring. The immediate, knee-jerk straightening reaction of the employees? That was more what lead Connor to pause in the entryway for a moment. He didn’t want to force anyone into an uncomfortable place, and if his presence would upset their business…

   He reached out, catching Hank on the elbow. “Perhaps-… perhaps a different establishment…?” It was no longer strictly legal to forbid android entry to business and services, but that didn’t mean that they couldn’t make life hell for not only Connor, but Hank as well. The less instigation that Hank would inevitably go for, the easier this jaunt would be…

[iinauras-a-deactivated20230611]

dailyholzer:

dying and coming back gives you considerable perspective

[sentfromcyberlife]

    This is Samee, back at it again with the totally not Robo-Cop-! These seem to go around quicker than real promos and frankly I suck at promos, so go ahead and give this a like/reblog if you’re interested in interacting with Connor, the Android sent by CyberLife from Detroit Become Human!

[hehatesandroids]

What’s happening in this Chicken Feed tonight?!  My name is Jay and I’m not really good at making promos but I’m pretty good at writing old, disgruntled dads who thinks he’s got nothing to lose!  Please like / reblog this if you are a muse with a DBH verse and you’d be interested in interacting with a Hank Anderson from DBH!  

[hehatesandroids]

@sentfromcyberlife

Here’s the answer to the question Connor asked once and Hank quickly shut down by turning his music way up.  It was meant to be a surprise  –  as if it mattered, considering how Connor probably got some weird GPS function in him on top of all the other crap they loaded him with.  Where were they going?  Should be obvious that they just pulled up into the Greek District.  Why?  Well…

     “You need to get rid of that suit.  It’s a real fucking eye-sore, Connor.”  Hank grumbled once they exited the vehicle, adding to that statement with the rude tap-tap of his index finger against the RK-800 title across Connor’s chest.  “It’s about time you got some new threads.”

     The world must have come to an end if Hank, of all people, was telling someone to change clothes.  This was the man whose closet consisted mostly of dress shirts of various streaky designs that he rarely bothered to button up properly once he put them on.

    “Pick a store.”  He said, sauntering past the fountain towards the long stretch of outlets that surrounded them.  There was a statue here that Hank tossed a pointed look at  – what was once a tall, imposing celebration of  android servitude was now replaced with something that just vaguely resembled that Markus guy after the Android Revolution passed.

     It was with no small amount of pride that he turns to look at Connor with.  The kid played a big role in that shebang, after all  –  an effort that earned him a good and hearty slap on the back.  “Think of it like your first step towards being free  –  or some other sentimental crap like that.  Gotta exercise those new feelings you got, right?”

[sentfromcyberlife]

    Freedom was hard.

    Much harder than Connor had ever considered it to be. Objectively speaking, it should have been the easiest thing there was- you just... can do it. Whatever it is- do you want to walk outside? Go walk outside. Do you want to lay on the floor while Sumo runs in alarmed circles because person fell down what do I do, but not get yelled at by Hank for riling up the dog? Probably a little harder to do, but he could still technically do it. And yet, he found himself... hesitating? No, that wasn’t the word... but it was just much harder than it should have been to recognize that he was no longer a recipient to orders. He was his own individual... whatever that entailed. 

    It was just jarring to look back and recognize comfort in shackles. He guessed.

    ... that was a little too poetic for how he was feeling. Feeling. That was a new one, too. He could never quite put a finger on it. All he knew was that when Hank said get in the car in that typical snippy way he did, it was much easier to just act on complete and utter reflex and get in the vehicle than to question why they were going somewhere. And it was easier to sit in abject silence as the music ( if there was music somewhere amid the screaming and smashing of drums.... could Connor use his idle time to isolate the individual instruments and determine how many was too many guitars....? It was likely ) blared than to inquire, despite the fact that he could certainly recognize curiosity in himself.

    Connor’d had the indication they were headed to the shopping district. It was obvious from the route, though the intent was beyond his scope ( you did make it a little harder to predict, Lieutenant, by still being stubborn enough to drive yourself places rather than submit to progress and purchase an autonomous vehicle. Very clever ). And as Hank left the vehicle without a word, Connor paused for a brief moment to consider his ord-- ... options. Stay? Obviously not, the vehicle would grow exceedingly hot in the time it’d take even a sparing shopper like Hank to explore and, frankly, it’d be boring. So he slipped out. And-

    Stared over the top of the car at Hank. The blue light on his LED flicked in a circle as Hank tapped his insignia, watching the gesture before peering back up at Hank. An eyesore...? He- well he was designed to get along well with humans, be it voice, mannerisms, and appearance; he’d just always kind of thought that the suit was included in that. But if it looked that bad...? Ahh, this must be what self-consciousness felt like, as if his clothes now itched ( androids can’t itch, Connor ).

    He continued to follow Hank with his eyes as he strut away and languidly, metaphorically, handed the reigns over to Connor. And he.... stared at said reigns with a momentary vacant confusion. Even as he got positively whacked on the back, there was conflict in him. Hank, your affection needed work, but the sentiment was understood and appreciated. And he just looked so... pleased with the whole thing. Okay, so then Connor really needed to do this right. Think of it like an objective, he told himself. A store that would suit him- heh- suit him- wait no, don’t make puns, Hank doesn’t seem the sort to like those-

    “Right...” He weighed his options, running through his mind a map of the surrounding shopping center. “I’m not certain that feelings can really be exercised, Lieutenant, but there are several male clothing stores in the vicinity.” He looked at Hank and offered the most minute of shrugs. “It depends on what style you would consider not to be an eyesore.” What Hank would consider not an eyesore. Because what he wanted? Didn’t really much occur to him, not readily at least. And besides...

               He was a little attached to his suit, as it were... 

[renxamamiya]

- My name is Connor. I’m the android sent by CyberLife.

[arsuf]

“You are the most advanced prototype CyberLife has ever created. If anyone can figure out what’s happening, it’s you.”