sociallychallenged | (no subject)

You sure you want to do that? You're not as strong as you used to be.

[It's a light tease, as much a jab at himself and his weight as it is to Connor's human body, before he takes the offered hand and rises to his feet. He puts his shoes back on, straightens out his pants legs, and starts heading back. He figures he'll let Tubbs out when they get back to the room.]

Yeah. I didn't catch all the hatch times on them.

[He probably should have. Being a breeder and all. Hard to imagine this guy was at the top of his class back in the day. Now that lack of enthusiasm's caught up to him.]

[Connor just picks up his shoes and starts walking back like that, wincing at the odd little rock that stabs him in the foot.]

I think the closest ones to hatching are still a few days off, but I kind of like checking them anyway.

[Imagining the pokemon inside is exciting.]

[He realizes that, with all the walking they're going to be doing, he can't be protecting Connor all the time. But the small winces do earn looks of concern.]

Yeah. I keep putting my head against them to see if I can hear anything.

[Which is probably a stupid mental image, and likely about as effective as listening to the ocean in a seashell. But he tries anyway.]

Can you?

[It’s mostly a joke, but hey. You never know. As they reach the inn he gratefully walks in, fumbling for the key to their room and nearly headbutting Crockett as he enters. The first thing he does is let out his Spinarak, because he feels like keeping his pokemon cooped up in their balls all the time isn’t right.]

No, but that doesn't stop me from trying.

[He probably hopes at least to feel movement under the shell. Admittedly, a few days is a short damn time to grow eggs.]

[Hank lets out Tubbs, and before he even goes near the eggs to deal with them, he sits in the floor with his back to the bed and decides to pet on him for a while.]

Who is a good boy, huh? You are. You're a good dog. [He ruffles those slightly backward flopped ears.]

[Connor smiles warmly as Hank pets Tubbs, going over to the eggs. He runs his fingers over one gently, but of course nothing happens.]

We’re going to have a lot of pokemon to train.

[He’s going to make sure those dogs grow big and strong.]

Yup.

[He scrubs Tubbs cheeks, looking over at Connor. It seems like that's the thing he's most looking forward to. Hank's still not really certain on this whole fighting thing (too many drug dealers with a yard full of chained up dogs). But he's trying to convince himself that in this ridiculous fantasy world, it's different. They can heal them immediately. They're inclined to do it already. They're not exactly normal animals, what with the whole transforming from one animal to another.]

[But, he supposes, the most important thing is that Connor finally seems happy doing something. Even if his role was still chosen for him. He gets to take care of something, and not just nuetralize threats. Maybe he imagined it, or it came from him rushing into his house to save him, but there's the hint of something nurturing at him.]

[And he's been staring at him a long time so he's just going to look at the dog now.]

There was a little girl that told me she knew an android. Said his name was Bishop. I was trying to encourage her to write more, and I said if she ever wrote something about him, I'd read it to you.

[The fighting aspect was uncomfortable at first, but it seems like the pokemon actually enjoy it. Plus since they can heal them so quickly and it makes them stronger, it seems like that's what you're supposed to do with pokemon. He's actually excited for his first evolution. Being a trainer isn't so bad.

Connor looks over at Hank from where he's sat himself by the eggs, with Charlotte lazily crawling onto his lap. Who ever knew that a huge spider could be so affectionate.]

I'd like that. It's good to know there are people here who knew androids back home, too.

She said he was a nice guy, too. So... seemed like something you'd wanna hear about.

[Finally he decides to come over, too. He's not mortified by the spider. He is a little perplexed by it. He picks one of his up, holds it up to the light so he can see vaguely through it (not well) and then does exactly what he told Connor earlier. He puts it next to his ear.]

[He wasn't joking, though. He's listening intently. For a little heartbeat, a vibration, anything. As he does, his gaze drifts into the middle distance, trying to focus despite distant fucking music.]

I'm glad she liked him.

[You don't hear much about humans who actually like androids. Connor idly pets the pokemon in his lap, watching Hank.]

Can you hear anything? Or feel anything?

It's honestly hard to tune out that fucking music.

[He shifts to holding the egg in his hands, cupping them around it, and holding it firmly. Tight, but not too tight. He's really intent, too. Like he's waiting.]

[Then he lifts his head, brows raising.]

Oh, it did move in there a little. [Just enough for him to reasonably guess it wasn't his own clumsy fingers or pulse.]

Really?

[He leans forward, resting a hand on the egg. He looks focused up until the slight movement, and then he seems surprised.]

It must be close to hatching.

[Given a few more days, it'll probably be moving a lot more.]

This is one of the ones that takes less time.

[He moves to settle the would-be-creature in Connor's hands, so he can hold it too.]

Just a few more days, I guess.

I'm never gonna get the hang of this.

[But at least he's good at taking care of the eggs once he gets them.]

[He cradles the egg carefully, running his fingers along it gently.]

It must be a Popplio. I took notes on how long the eggs would take to hatch. The Popplio takes the least amount of time.

[Connor looks at the egg fondly, then back up at Hank.]

What are you going to call yours?

Don't know. I figured I'd keep up the trend of naming them after the cops I grew up with.

[The ones that inspired his calling.]

That's the one that's like a dog mermaid isn't it?

[He's going to say that and watch Connor's face for a reaction for his shitty bullshit. He's not a dad anymore, but he can make kitschy little jokes from the days of yore still.]

Oh, good. You can give me some names too, then.

[He arches an eyebrow at the description, though.]

...Yes?

[Well, he's not wrong.]

[Hank's lightly amused with his own stupid joke, and honestly the deadpan humor in Connor that comes with it is kind of funny.]

A lot of people called seals those when I was in my twenties.

[Yup. He still is amused. No fucking shame.]

Too bad I can't show you some of those. I think you would have liked Due South. It was about a rough Chicago detective that ended up having a polite RCMP officer sent to work with him. [He's a little sad, come to think of it, now he can't even share reruns with Connor.]

Edited 2018-08-22 10:24 (UTC)

[He still doesn't look all that amused, even with context behind the joke.]

It does look rather like a mermaid when it's fully evolved, though.

[Connor is here to ruin every joke.]

Maybe I would have. I doubt we could watch it here, though.

[Connor ruining a joke is almost part of a joke.] I remember. [He just waves him off dismissively. Eh. He'll make him laugh one day. Or at least make him look annoyed with him.]

[But he sobers.]

Yeah. No metal, either. Or at least none I could take seriously.

[Hank is a perpetual sourpuss. But at least it's immediately followed by him pulling Tubbs into his lap.]

I miss metal.

[He says it while stroking the Spinarak's abdomen lightly. He's not sure where else to pet it.]

I didn't hear much of it, but I enjoyed it.

[He'd heard it in Hank's car, mostly. Those trips weren't exactly long, though. He seems a little amused by Hank just pulling the dog into his lap, at least.]

[He should have driven around with him more. When he learned to tolerate him, he should have just took him on long drives, blasted music, worked out the case with him. He should have brought him home and watched old TV series that he only has because he transferred them off DVDs when he was in his thirties.]

[Should have, should have, should have.]

Alright. So. I finally got a question about you.

When you were an android, what was the most annoying thing we did that you just... [He snaps his fingers by his ear.] That you suddenly get, now. There's got to be something.

[He thinks on it, still holding the egg in one arm.]

Well, nothing really annoyed me as such. I did find it inconvenient that you had to sleep for so long, though. It felt like a lot of time wasted that we could have been spending on the case.

[Now though, he knows just how difficult sleep is to ward off. And how important it is to get a good night's sleep.]

Funny how that stunning realization didn't help you not dump real fuckin' cold water on me as a human.

[He shakes his head in slight annoyance. But then adds.]

I hope you never find out, but it's a lot harder when your enthusiasm's gone. Going to sleep, your head churns through obligations. Waking up... all those are still there. Like a weight. Make it nearly impossible to get out of bed.

I mean, you can get up and get angry. That'll give you some energy. But who the fuck wants to start every day mad?

[Even Hank.]

Oversleeping is just as bad for you as not sleeping enough, you know.

[He looks down at the Spinarak in his lap though, frowning.]

I wish I could help you with that. I don't think I can, though.

I'd prefer the oversleeping to no sleep at all. [Hank snorts, and desperately misses Whiskey again in that moment. Instead he scruffs the dog, which pants loudly.]

You help a little bit. Part of it was just... fucking hating everyone. Thinking the world had no hope. But you gave me some hope in it. You let me save a life and punch a dick.

[At that bit he smiles a little at Connor. See? He helped.]