driftfleet | Libuscha IV System Mingle (no. 1)

[he snorts at the politeness. One day he'll get Connor not to be polite and it'll be great]

Yeah? [he scratches at his cheek, peering at Connor a little curiously before he turns and looks around for somewhere to sit. He finally settles for somewhere right under the tree, grunting as he does so]

Guess android brains aren't that much better, if you're prone to that kinda shit, too.

I'm not prone to it, just-- [Connor cuts himself off, annoyed. This kind of discussion is new territory to him, when he hasn't had much frame of reference for what all his irregularities as a machine actually meant.] It does happen. And it's hard to get used to.

[He doesn't bother to sit, though he does follow Ben over to where he takes his seat.]

I know what it feels like to worry.

[Ben leans forward on his knees to frown at Connor] I know you do. But it's hard to get used to because you don't get used to it, dude. It just - happens, when you least expect it. Most of the time when you don't want it to.

It's less getting used to it and more - I guess, knowing how to work through it when it's the really intense kind of worrying.

[The idea that worry isn't something he'll ever adapt to is... honestly unsettling. Connor didn't think it would be easy but surely there was an endpoint to it.]

So this is one of the ways you do it?

One of them, yeah. [he rubs a hand over his mouth as he pauses, thinking] A lot of people just - they'll find someone they trust and they'll talk it out with them. Or they'll talk it out with themselves, sometimes I do that. I sound insane but it helps a little.

[he shrugs] But everything I do is either a process or a routine - orderly stuff. Since like, it's always intense for me. I'm sure you've figured out by now what's wrong.

[It's not hard to put the pieces together once they're present. Connor was intended to work on active investigations with live criminals and assailants. An understanding of human psychology - and pathology - was vital in being able to do that job without outside direction at every turn. Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder wasn't a difficult conclusion to reach, given the circumstances.]

I have a good idea, yes. [After dealing with Hank, he's more attuned to the signs of mental health issues than he would have been a month ago. Not to mention having more empathy for it.] It must be hard to establish a regular routine in the Fleet, when it's constantly moving to different environments.

It's not . . . hard, but it's tricky sometimes. [he folds his arms on his knees, leaning on them. It's strange putting it into words, because he's never really had to. People just - knew, that he either had routines or he did shit a certain way because he had to, and that was that. He's never explained it, and especially not to someone in order to

- he isn't even sure. Help them? Is he helping? Is it even making sense?] I try to keep it vague enough that I can - switch things in and out. Like, window-shopping, or finding some kind of labor job, or like, if there's an arena or underground fight clubs, I'll join those and burn off some anger. Those are all things I can do at any stop we go to, and I just have to adjust the details depending on the planet.

[he pauses, his nose wrinkling faintly in disgust as he remembers last month's utter failure]

But like I said, it doesn't always work. I even have like, set routines that don't change, but sometimes I just get - you know, in a bad way. It was like that last month, so I mostly stuck to the ships when I wasn't picking fights on the planet.

You... pick fights intentionally.

[That does not sound like a good coping mechanism.]

[here we go]

Yeah, sometimes. You ever get so angry you want to beat the shit out of something?

Ben, I can count the number of times I've been angry on one hand.

[Yes, this is because he only started having The Feelings about a month ago, but his point still stands.]

[he blows out a sigh]

Then consider it a rhetorical question. Most folks don't get that angry anyway, I don't think. I didn't used to.

Anyway, yes, I went and picked fights. I know it's not healthy. I got lectured plenty for it last month 'cuz people don't know when to leave me alone when I'm like that.

[Most don't, but enough do that it isn't unheard of. Certainly Connor has information on those sorts of tendencies and some experience seeing it in action. You don't spend a week in a police station during the most stressful time Detroit's ever had and not see that kind of flare up happening around you.

Connor folds his arms across his chest, mulling that over.]

Is that what you wanted? To be left alone?

I mean, yeah. [he pauses with a frown, again at a loss when it comes to putting it into words past "I don't want to be bothered" and "people suck" and his usual string of answers]

It's one thing to tell people hey, yeah, I'm a mess of a person and be open about what's wrong with me, right? I have no problem telling people. It's another entirely for them to actually see it. And last month was - you know, that.

[Is there a difference? Connor supposes there is. He's had to hide aspects of himself before, a reflexive move to prevent a discovery of something he didn't entirely know was there. But the line between telling and showing was blurred, surely. One tended to lead to the other.

He wonders, for a moment, how everyone here would respond if they saw the aspects of his talents that even the police force hadn't been privy to. The fallibility that had been built into him by design. It wouldn't come off well, most likely. Even as he thinks it a cold reluctance curls up inside him.

Connor shakes his head slightly, bringing his attention back to the present.]

I'm sure they were concerned for your wellbeing, but... I think I understand.

[he rests his arms on his knees again, watching Connor closely. He kind of wants to ask if he does get it, because this is leaning more on emotional things than it is on logical - and he knows the guy is new to the former. And everything Ben is describing is kind of advanced, fucked up emotional shit that's pretty particular to him, even if he tries to broaden it as much as he can.

Still, he can't help but snort] Yeah, I realize that. I'm just bad at accepting people's - concern and niceties and shit. Especially when it has to do with all my problems.

[Deviant though he may be, Connor still has every last byte of the social protocols he was programmed with. It's still something to rely on for responses when his own understanding of a situation fails. He does think he has some idea of what Ben means - but even if he doesn't, it's better to give the impression that he does when the other man is clearly trying to explain it. Connor can go through the information again later.

For now, he eyes Ben back and says:]

Because you're abrasive.

[Not exactly Ben's own words but a spin on it. Social protocols are nice and all, except they've never stopped Connor from being direct in the past.]

[Ben gives Connor a long, long look before he makes that noise again - the one that sounds like it could be a laugh but just sort of borders on amused]

Because I'm abrasive, yeah. And I don't know how to do it, for an actual, real answer.

Oh. [Well, okay. That makes sense too.] I see.

But things have improved since last month?

[he shrugs a shoulder]

Yeah, kinda. It still - it's like, in the back of my mind? So like, if we went into specifics it'd start bothering me. But we're being nice and vague about it so I can deal with it. But I don't feel like starting any fights so that's a huge improvement.

That's good, because I don't want to fight you.

[Said as the literal only other person in this room, and also as a highly effective killer android.]

[Ben snorts] Even if I fought people on the Fleet, you'd be at the bottom of the list, dude.

I'm glad to hear it.

[He hadn't been very concerned to begin with. Abrupt as Ben tended to be, he hasn't acted in any way threatening to Connor since they met. And Connor is good at knowing when people intend to attack him.]

The people on this planet don't appear the sort to instigate many fights themselves either.

[realistically, Ben knows better than to fuck with an android specifically tailored to police work. And on the other hand, he likes Connor - not that he'll ever admit to it out loud. So fighting Connor is pretty out of the question, period]

Yeah, there's no arena or secret fight clubs. [wryly] I've checked. So I guess we're all lucky this place is a lot better than most places we end up.

I haven't heard much about the other places the Fleet has visited.

Seriously? You didn't like, scan the network and download all the data and shit? Shame on you.

[he doesn't sound serious at all, and he huffs a bit and taps his temple] I'd show you, but what I've got saved is minimal at best and I can't transfer it. Haven't found the right connectors since, y'know, tech is fuckin' weird here sometimes.

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