[Voice Test] Connor & Peter - Seasons Greetings

[st_abilitylost]

Of every face that Connor’s internal database failed to recognize since the beginning of his short stay, the only source of familiarity was found in the inanimate statues of Mr. and Mrs. Claus mounted in the lobby. He recognzied then as symbols of generosity and goodwill towards all humanity, but something about the way the sculptor chose to craft their features seemed...off.

He didn’t have any business lingering and passing judgements on the craftsmanship but there was no lieutenant to bark at him for “spacing out” and it all left him at, for lack of a better phrase, a loss.

Comments

[st_arkintern]

"They're kind of weird-looking," Peter says, as if he knew exactly what Connor was thinking.

He approached Connor from behind, hands tucked into his hoodie. He'd given the last one to Liz months ago and she wore it a lot -- especially during the winter months. Thankfully, the inn felt the need to provide on occasion and a few weeks ago, it provided him with a blue hoodie the same shade as Midtown's colors.

"They're just here for Christmas," he tells him. "They disappeared the day after the new year." Along the rest of the decorations.

[st_abilitylost]

"Disappeared?" Connor looked between the new face and the statues, squinting. It seemed a good a question to ask as any, and he adjusted his tie to keep in propriety for human interaction. "The staff cycle them out?"

[st_arkintern]

Peter's not sure how to explain.

"Things just happen here," he says. "The things here fix themselves overnight. Stuff disappears and reappears. Food and drink are replenished, too. It just never happens while someone is looking."

[st_abilitylost]

That bit of intel was inconsistent with any knowledge Connor had of human businesses, but not outside the realm of reality. "Then the hotel itself is equipped with automated systems of disposal and restocking." Seemed a reasonable deduction. And it happening independent of residents being presence was surely to maintain comfort and convenience.

[st_arkintern]

"Maybe," Peter says, feeling skeptical. "It doesn't explain how things are fixed overnight. If someone's keeping us here, it might be them, but no one's ever seen them."

[st_abilitylost]

Connor’s LED flashed a frantic yellow for a brief moment and he closed his eyes to regain a sense of composure. There was a keen, restless sense welling up within him the more his own conclusions fell short.

“Where I’m from, hotel staff are primarily androids built for hospitality.” Connor glanced at the boy, electing to shift the subject somewhat.

[st_arkintern]

Peter looks from the statues over to Connor. "Do androids do everything?" he asks, wondering exactly how humans manage to make a living if they've been replaced with androids.

[st_abilitylost]

“Not everything.” That much was true. Though androids had replaced much of the menial labor, administrative and government positions were still populated entirely by humans. There were many aspects of society that androids had no place presiding over.

“Are you familiar with Detroit?”

[st_arkintern]

"Yeah, I've never been there, though." Peter had been to a few states up the East Coast, but the only other time he traveled outside of that was when he went to Berlin.

Detroit wasn't as far away as Berlin, but it was nowhere near Queens.

[st_abilitylost]

“Where are you from?” If all residents were supposedly from different “dimensions,” he may as well investigate that claim for himself. Connor turned to face the teen with a brief and disarming smile. He wasn’t a suspect, so he received the civilian treatment.

[st_arkintern]

"New York City, in Queens." He's not sure if Connor knows Queens specifically; usually he could mention it to people and they at least had heard of it, knew it was in New York City, even if they didn't know exactly where it was. "2017," he adds, since he knows well that most people aren't from the exact same year. He and Tony are, but the rest of the Avengers were from all over the place.

[st_abilitylost]

“I’m familiar.” Though he’d never been. “Detroit, Downtown. November 9th, 2038.” So this youth was from 2017’s New York? His fashion was consistent with the era, as was his vernacular—not that the language had changed much aside from evolving slang.

Connor extended his hand. “My name is Connor. I’m an android dispatched by CyberLife.”

[st_arkintern]

Peter takes Connor's hand into his own and shakes it, awestruck.

"So you're an android?" he asks. "We had an android on our team back home, but I didn't really get to talk to him." There was a lot going on in Berlin and aside from Tony, he didn't get to talk to any of the Avengers on his team.

[st_abilitylost]

"I am an android designed to assist human law enforcement and conduct investigative work." Connor felt a flicker of interest run through him at the mention of this youth working with androids--a sports team league? Of course, if he was from the year 2017, it predated the first android Elijah Kamski even developed. There were other breakthroughs in AI and robotics but nothing approaching Kamski's level.

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr... ...?" The handshake lingered.

[st_arkintern]

"Ah!" It suddenly occurs to him that he hasn't even properly introduced himself. "Peter. Peter Parker. You can just call me Peter if you want."

[st_abilitylost]

"Good to meet you, Peter." Connor firmed up the handshake now that they could properly end it, summoning a genial tone, even if he had a harder time than usual doing so. Not only that, but words were hard to find outside the usual setting of crime scenes. A brief reassurance in his methodical prowess before moving on. Incompatible within this context, Connor.

"I may not be able to be of assistance with my usual investigative work, but I can make pleasant conversation." Another smile to match his words. This would do, right?

[st_arkintern]

"I'm sure you can find something to do," Peter says. "Everyone does. You'd probably go stir-crazy if you didn't."

Peter runs a hand through his hair. "What do you like to do?"

[st_abilitylost]

"I enjoy my work." Connor answered in a polite manner. Less technical than he oft was, but he was built to interface with humans where they were at. Every human was unique, after all. "I enjoy being of assistance where I can."

[st_arkintern]

Peter blinks at the response. It wasn't exactly what he was looking for. "You don't have any hobbies? Drawing? Watching movies? Cooking?"

[st_abilitylost]

Work wasn't the same as a hobby, Connor was aware, but humans had their need for leisure. Hank had his love of heavy metal, basketball, and physical books...among other things. The extent he'd observed the lieutenant simply going about his business could be argued as a hobby in and of itself, though Connor was simply fulfilling an internal directive to ingrain himself in whatever dynamic he'd been assigned to.

What frivolous activities did he partake in that would satisfy Peter's questions? He silently appealed to his memories of the lieutenant when something came to him--

"I like dogs."

[st_arkintern]

Dogs are not a hobby, but Peter's pretty sure he's not going to get anything better from him. That's okay. He's okay with that.

"I like dogs, too. I wanted one growing up, but I never had one. My Aunt May's apartments were always too small for them." Aunt May (not May), he says -- just so he knows she's a relative.

[st_abilitylost]

"Neither did I. There are androids who dog sit, oftentimes the house keeping models. The only time I've gotten to interact with a dog was during a house visit to my partner." Sumo, even wary of Connor as he initially was, was rather charming and quite intelligent to grasp his intentions for the break-in fairly quickly. It wasn't difficult to see what humans saw in their canine companions.

[st_arkintern]

Peter can't imagine life with one dog interaction total.

"Miguel -- he's another kid here -- has a dog named Dante," he says. "I'm sure if you wanted to play with him, Miguel would be happy to loan him to you for a few hours." Dante was full of energy; Peter was sure that it probably got exhausting entertaining a dog that energetic sometimes.

[st_abilitylost]

Instantaneously, Connor entered his analytic space. There were no traces of dog fur in the carpet fibers, but there particles of dander floating on the air. Pinpointing one such particle caught in the sun, he ran a scan of its makeup. The genetic markers for the Xoloitzcuintle were a 96% match.

"Ah. A Mexican Hairless Dog. My partner's dog is a Saint Bernard. Thank you for the recommendation, Peter."

[st_arkintern]

Peter looks around, expecting to see Dante running around the inn, as he often did; there's no sight or sound of Dante, though, and Peter's gaze turns back to Connor, perplexed.

"How did you know?"