[Hank shifts around to lean next to the window to instead of on it, settles himself well enough that he won’t tip over, and slides the window up, making a wide and welcoming sweep with his arms like an old butler. Seeing Connor in the flesh - the plastic, the super sophisticated metal alloy, whatever - makes him feel even more restless, and the feeling directs itself into a sarcastic smile, a sharp edge or two at the corners of his voice.]

Welcome, monsieur, to my humble abode. What ‘cha interrupting your good old Cyberlife testing to come over here for? Come to slap the shit outta me again?