finalflight | PSL; [It's bigger than us, it's bigger than everything]

PSL; [It's bigger than us, it's bigger than everything]

((ooc; cont. from here))

[Anything happening within the walls of Hank's house is now being shattered by the blaring of the doorbell. Once, twice, a third time for a bit longer. Less an actual doorbell and more of a buzzer, a harsh thing that is sure to grab the attention of anyone possessing a heartbeat within. The very obvious sign of someone (a certain RK800 unit) at the door, hoping to find the Lieutenant at his home if he cannot be located at his usual haunts. The sort that serves alcohol, mainly.]

Lieutenant?

[The voice should ring familiar, if not slightly muffled by the obstruction before him. Connor stands waiting, straight-backed, staring at the closed door like the obstacle it is to his entry. The usual curl of hair that falls across his forehead sways in the breeze as he waits, only half-patiently.]

Lieutenant! [The downwards cant of his head, just slightly, eyes averted to the side; the look of someone listening for noise within.] Are you home?

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[Wow? Wow.

Purposefully schools his face into “android neutral” as if to help aid him combat this statement.]

I don’t make faces that look like that. You’re exaggerating.

[The pout dissolves into a trying-not-to-smile-as-hard-as-I-want-to type grin.]

You don't? Shit, I didn't know you had like, invisible eyes floating in front of your head, so you can see what you look like all the time. Hell that's, that's really advanced, I'm impressed, Connor.

[Why. Why this.

This must be what it’s like being a child teased by a parent; Connor can be as indignant as he likes, but it’ll only fuel Hank’s amusement more and more. This is obvious, given the man’s smile and what he knows of his personality.

Connor exhales through his nose, debating on saying something, before just turning his head to look at the road again.]

“Invisible eyes”. Why not just “mirror”?

[Criticizing Hank’s use of not-quite-metaphor is what he’ll do instead, yes.]

I don't know. [Hank shrugs, feeling loose and close to relaxed enough to let Connor get away with the topic switch.] Mirror doesn't sound advanced enough. Invisible eyes are cooler. And probably better for seeing yourself pout with, you know, get a view from all sorts of different angles.

[Okay, so he's not totally going to let Connor change the subject. There's at least a little more fun to get out of that.]

[Hank doesn’t seem keen on dropping this subject. Who does he think he is, him?]

I realize that you’re just trying to get a reaction out of me, but it needs to be said: I don’t pout. When have you ever known me to?

[Oh that's easy.]

Just now, when I told you you ought to get a dog makeover. What's wrong, you too good to look like Sumo?

No.

[Wait. Yes? His LED blinks.]

That is to say, that doesn't even make any sense. Even if I wore the same sweater as Sumo, I wouldn't look like him. What constitutes a 'dog makeover' in your mind must not have very many prerequisites.

[This is definitely a very human-android "argument".]

I don't know, you must not of seen many dog owners. People kinda start to look like each other, you know?

[He considers, then points a finger at Connor for a second.]

I mean, look at me. You watch out. It'll happen to you.

[A sideways glance at the finger, then back at the road again.]

Which warning does that pertain to? That I’ll start to look like Sumo, that I’ll start to look like you, or that you already look like Sumo?

[You know, barring the fact that this is also an irrationally perceived notion that’s basically technically impossible.]

All three.

[Hank grips the wheel again and raises his eyebrows at Connor, seemingly very serious.]

So you better get used to it now. Get a head start, give Sumo a little trim so he looks all clean cut like you, get him a little tie. There's nothing wrong with it! There's no need to get all insulted. It's just nature.

Nature doesn’t work that way.

[Says the android, who lives in the technology camp and not really the nature camp.

He reflects the serious tone right back.]

And I’m not insulted. I’m just [CONFUSED] uncertain why we’re talking about this when all I suggested was that we purchase Sumo a leash and a dog bowl.

Because I'm teaching you the ways of the world, Connor. Nature's a tricky mistress, really mysterious, you never know what you're going to get. I'm just preparing you for it.

[He thinks about it for a second, then tilts his head from side to side, going on matter of factly.]

And because the idea of you and Sumo getting the same haircut is fucking hilarious.

[why do u hate him

Something you don’t need to be an RK800 to realize: Hank is still messing with him.]

You’re hilarious, Lieutenant.

[The sarcasm awakens from its deep slumber to rise again.]

Hey, Sumo.

[He tilts his head toward the backseat, glancing in the rearview mirror to see Sumo raising his head.]

Sumo, shouldn't Connor be taking us more seriously?

[Hank waits a second. Sumo just looks at him.]

Sumo, bark if you agree. Sumo, bark!

[Sumo, obediently, gives a bark, watching them for a couple more seconds before putting his head back down.]

See? He'd be telling you too, if he could. It's what he wants.

[Connor actually turns and looks at Sumo, brow furrowed, as if he has just suffered THE DEEPEST BETRAYAL known to android kind. But then he shifts right back around to look at Hank, lips tugged into a frown.]

You can’t use Sumo against me. Especially when the basis of this argument is bordering on the ridiculous.

Against you? For you. For your own good. You might think it's ridiculous, but it'd be great. What about disguises, anyway? I mean, we haven't really figured out those yet, and 'dog lover with pampered dog' would be a pretty good one.

['Dog lover with pampered dog' isn't a disguise if it's likely going to become the truth in the not so distant future, anyway.]

...People don't pamper their dogs by giving them similar haircuts.

[Stop saying ridiculous things and then pretending to be logical. Connor will not fall for it.]

Some people do.

[Hank will teach you about true logic, Connor. Look, look at him doing it.]

Why, how would you pamper Sumo? Tell him, he wants to hear it.

[No. This isn't real logic. He denies it!]

I wouldn't give him my haircut, to start.

[But, maybe because it’s simply Sumo and this requires an actual answer, Connor does give a better answer.]

Let him sleep wherever he likes; on the bed or couch. Maybe buy him an oversized dog bed for himself. Bathe him frequently to keep his coat healthy. Pet him and speak to him often. Play with him.

[Hank tries for a few seconds to keep his smile from going all soft and squishy, and can't really do it. He can still talk, at least, like he's not honestly touched.]

Well, that's just taking good care of him. Pampering's stuff you do every now and then, going above and beyond like, giving him a spa day. You're telling me you wouldn't even take Sumo out to get a little pedicure?

If it's done for Sumo's benefit, I suppose I would consider anything that would “spoil” him, so to speak.

[He really would. Connor truly does have the potential to be one of Those dog people, and Hank better be prepared for it.

Though it does beg the question of-]

Don’t you pamper him sometimes?

I, uh-

[Shit, there's a question. Hank sighs, grimacing out at the road and thinking about how to explain. This is Connor, so Hank's not going to get defensive about it. This is Connor who's seen Hank, sometimes when Hank hadn't really wanted him to, so Hank might as well risk being honest.]

Ah, I'm doing good if I can just get out the door and get to work, you know, so I don't uh, I don't really get him out much. And he's an old guy anyway, so uh-

[Nope. Stop. No excuses. You were going to be honest, Hank.]

But it's good that you like him, anyway, young guy with a lotta energy, that's probably just what he needs.

[He isn’t sure what answer he expected, but he isn’t surprised by this one. Connor knows that Hank can barely take care of himself on some days, so maybe the expectation that Sumo was pampered was an unreal one the moment it formed in his mind. He spares a glance back at the dog, who’s merely resting in the backseat quietly, and feels a sense of melancholy. He’s not in bad health, of course, and it’s obvious that Hank cares for him. But maybe this venture out into the world, this cobbled-together roadtrip, will be full of as many new experiences for Sumo as it is for Connor.]

Of course I like him.

[He returns his attention back to Hank.] I was telling you the truth that day, when I said I liked dogs. And I wasn’t lying, either, when I said that I’m willing to take care of him. Don’t you worry, Lieutenant.

[Hank glances at Connor when he tells him not to worry, then looks back to the road. It feels good, hearing that, like... relief. If anything happens to Hank, if Hank fucks up too bad- Well, it's good, that this poor dog's life's not all on him anymore. For a second, his voice comes out quiet.]

Thanks.

So uh, this mean you're gonna try to give him a bath the next time we stop? Have you ever tried to wash a big dog?

[It's a tone of Hank's that is welcome, for a change. He thinks he can hear something more than just gratitude shaped in the syllables of that thanks. But no need to remark on it, only to reply to the quesiton.]

No. I've never washed a dog in general. Though I imagine the application is the same as washing smaller dogs, only requiring more effort.

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