#˾ ʟᴛ. ʜᴀɴᴋ ᴀɴᴅᴇʀꜱᴏɴ ̚ ;; ᴺᵒʷ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢᵒ ᵈᵉᵛᵒᶦᵈ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵒˡᵒʳ ʰᵉ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᶦᵗ ᵐᵉᵃⁿˢ

[replicantdeviancy]

erobret  asked: "I'll leave soon. Promise." Normally, Sherry was one to never break a promise. She couldn't help it this time, though. She had waved to the two men that had been standing by her desk. "I just want to finish this one file, and then I'll head home." She had said, and they had left, leaving her by herself in the building. And it was there where they found her the next morning, still cataloging, but she was now on a different file. She'd lost track of time. No sleep. No food. No water. No break. It wasn't until the men said her name that she spun in her chair and jumped to her feet, only to lurch and wobble, the room spinning.

_____________@erobret || Prompted || Always Accepting

The looks exchanged by the partners said everything - Hank's tired lack of surprise combined perfectly with Connor's dry, seemingly exhausted disheartenment spoke louder than words ever could, aimed towards one another in a dramatic side-eye. Were either of them shocked that the new recruit had somehow managed to stay overnight working over archived files? Absolutely not. Were they concerned by this fact? Connor was, as was the lieutenant, to a degree. Being the decidedly more seasoned officer, Hank wasn't moved by much these days, having lived through & seen it all. Hell, that had been him at one point or another, pulling all nighters in order to gain some headway on a difficult case. He couldn't fault the girl that, though he could chastise her for pushing herself too much, as a good boss should. Connor, on the other hand, seemed worried about her wellbeing. His LED blinked a quick but telling amber; he had scanned Sherry, & from the expression washing over his visage, he didn't like what he'd seen.

It was this look that prompted Hank to offer a suggestion though passing query. “You want me to take care of this?”

Connor looked towards his partner, a question in his worried stare. A moment later, he shook his head. "No, I'll handle it."

No further words need be said, as they could read each other so easily. Hank knew what the android meant to do without explanation, & he gave his blessing with a small nod & a pat on the back. The lieutenant left to get himself a cup of coffee, leaving Connor to deal with the exhausted young woman. "Sherry, why don't you let me take you home?" he offered, his dusky voice just as gentle & polite as always. "You're showing clear signs of exhaustion & it’s important that you get some rest.”

[replicantdeviancy]

slashaer asked: “i found freedom. losing all hope was freedom.” - markus @ hank.

-----------------@slashaer || FIGHT CLUB (1999) || Accepting

As if seeing the aftermath of the deviant revolution & the small but violent human counter responses hadn’t been disconcerting enough. Hank had been on the front lines of the chaotic recovery efforts as their city tried to rebuild itself, the slow return of citizens whom had fled Detroit under the evacuation order creating yet another obstacle for the androids now openly residing where they had been hidden before. Things had come to conflict more than once. There had always been unrest in Detroit, a brewing hatred for the synthetic beings people felt responsible for stealing away their prospects in life, taking jobs away & leaving them unable to fend for themselves. Like it hadn’t been the billion dollar industries in collusion with CyberLife taking away the last vestiges of individuality from industry, replacing workers with unpaid machines in order to drive their own financial gain.

Androids still faced discrimination, even violence, months after the government had acknowledged their sentience. His own partner had a target on his back from both sides - Hank was ever cognizant of that fact, & watched the kid like a hawk whenever possible. He couldn’t stand the idea of anything happening to Connor, certain that he’d never survive the loss. He meant too much to the old man.

Just as Markus meant everything to the deviant cause, yet here he was, confessing his innermost feelings to the lieutenant. It irked him. Everybody had their doubts, their individual struggles. Hank eyed the android with a tired scrutiny, unsure of what to say. So he just said what came to mind. “You've gotta understand how that’s not very comforting “ A sigh followed. A big hand came up to card thick fingers through his wavy silver hair, dragging it out of his face, only to fall right back again. A pensive response, a hint of anxiety. “But… I get It. Sometimes being alone is what shows you if you're the type of man who can change the world, or not.”  He knew what had happened to Markus - Connor had told him, though how the other android had discovered this information was anyone’s guess. Hank knew that the deviant leader had lost it all in a moment of anger & panic, a stupid mistake by a fellow cop who held onto bias against androids. Anyone would have been hopeless after all that, but this single android had found something worth fighting for within himself. Hank had to appreciate that, maybe even envy it, as he himself had found a reason to keep going in somebody else.

“I’m not that man. But you, & Connor— You are.” Hank was certain of that. The kid proved himself every day in his eyes. He knew that when he was dead & buried, Connor would still be around, striving to make a change for the better, one day at a time.

[replicantdeviancy]

slashaer asked: “technically, i have more of a right to be there than you.” - parker @ hank.

_____________@agentnash || FIGHT CLUB (1999) || Accepting

The lieutenant had known that this was going to be a long night - ever since he & Connor had been assigned the case, things had gone from bad to worse. Not only was there potential android involvement with this homicide, but the Feds had decided to stick their noses into DPD business once again. Hank sorely wanted to take his partner & walk off the scene, but that would be unprofessional. That, & Connor would never let him - the kid was too much of a straightlaced pain in the ass for that. & wasn’t that just one of the many things Hank appreciated about him?

More so, the lieutenant appreciated his partners endless patience, because he himself was lacking at the moment. This Agent Parker had a smart mouth & he really wasn’t helping Hank in the patience department. As such, the older man wasn’t at all opposed to giving the Fed a piece of his mind. “Cool! Glad we got that out of the way.” The look of incredulity he aimed towards their unwanted guest spoke volumes that even his deep, timbrous voice couldn’t, those cerulean eyes vivid with displeasure. “Listen, son. I’m sure this isn’t either of our first rodeos, but your jurisdiction ends the second local PD pulls the invitation.” Hank ignored the vision out of the corner of his eye of his partner pausing in his investigation meters away from the older man & the insufferable prick he was conversing with, how the android stared, suddenly focusing all of his attention on the lieutenant.

He was watching out of concern, Hank knew. Ready to step in & smooth things over or come to his aid at a moment's notice. That was just who Connor was, & the old man deeply appreciated it. It was also kind of fucking annoying. He couldn't even get away with putting this Fed in his place without scrutiny. This was going to turn into a discussion later on, likely in the car, on the drive home. The rebellious part of Hank was looking forward to it, as he thrilled for the debate. But right now, he was a little preoccupied.

“This isn’t exactly something that crosses state lines, so I can end the playdate at my discretion.” Thick arms were crossed over his barrel chest, stands just a little wider than hip width apart. With his height, his size, the posture gave an even greater impression of his authority. & just for added effect, Hank’s lips quirked into a smarmy smile, cocksure. “Keep your shit straight & be nice to the android. You do that, & we’ve got no problem. We square?” It was about time this guy figure out who was really in charge here - the FBI didn’t get to muscle in on their territory without either permission or request without a federal crime being committed. The last time Hank checked, homicide was a district-specific crime.

[replicantdeviancy]

rking200 asked: "Describe a non-sexual activity that turns you on unexpectedly." @Hank (eyes emoji directly at you)

_____________@rking200 || Spill the Tea ☕|| Accepting

The question gave the lieutenant momentary pause. Not necessarily because it surprised him, but because he really didn't have to think about it at all. As it was, he could have mentioned a hundred things about Connor that got him unexpectedly elated. From that smart mouth that was equal parts frustrating & titillating, to Connor's unique methods of criminal investigation through software & onboard hardware that strangely, in a way, felt so comparable to human instinct. There was his wit, the way he could go from a stone faced combat android to the most innocent, doe eyed kid Hank had ever seen. The way he cared for him, how he insisted on this painfully human domesticity that bewildered Hank, & soothed him all at once.

All of that had him head over heels, but it wasn't what he was thinking of at the moment. “Ya know, I never figured it would be somebody's hands that have me smitten. But there's just something about the way Connor touches me that leaves me restless.” A little smirk tugged at his lips at that. “I don't mean sexually - though I can say from experience that he may act innocent, but he knows exactly what the fuck he's doing.” The lieutenant could certainly attest to that. The android had come into this relationship of theirs as untouched as could be, though he was anything but shy. The amount of weird, kinky shit that Connor had suggested to his partner had the older, far more experienced Hank choking on air more than once. The absolute little shit. Goddamn android loved to tease him.

& how he loved to tease back. “It's the little gestures. How he reaches for my hand or clings to my arm when he's stressed or wants attention. How obsessed he is with getting my shirt off & running his fingers through my chest hair.” The thought alone caused a shiver to crawl up his spine, remembering the gentle touches of shy plastic & biorubber pads against his skin, fingertips tracing the fading lines of his tattoo. Bold arms wrapped around his waist, fingers clinging to his love handles in a way that used to bother him, but had quickly turned calming. “He touches all the places I'm self-conscious about & makes 'em feel like reverence. I don't know how the hell he does it.” Hank knew, liar that he was. He knew exactly how. Connor was a sweet boy, one who didn't judge the old man for his imperfections, but admired them. Adored them. Hank hadn't known how to handle that at the time, but he was better at it now.

“He's always trying to interface with me. I didn't think either of us could get something out of that, but it's like static on my skin.” The android was just doing what his kind did, Hank figured. Seeking connection with someone who could never share that experience with him. Except, he could. In part. While they couldn't exchange data like androids did, Connor claimed that he could sense the signals of Hanks nervous system as it worked, sense the electrical pulse as his heart beat. At a point in time, that had sounded…disturbing. Weird. Almost invasive. But when he really got to thinking about it, wasn't that just as intimate as what androids did? The lieutenant couldn't share his thoughts, for he was only human, but he could share that part of himself. Something about hat felt closer, more personal than sex. He smiled at the thought. “It always gets me to relax.” That soft staticky sensation emanating from plastic fingers & featureless palm were a comfort Hank could have never known if he hadn't met Connor. Just one more reason to be grateful for him.

Among other things. “It's also pretty damn cute that he gets so flustered if I get his fingers in my mouth.” That comment came with a bark of laughter. He really did love the look on Connors face when he did that, how his eyes would roll back in his head as Hank slipped a digit or two between his lips & sucked.

[replicantdeviancy]

rking200 asked: "Describe your most awkward kiss." @Hank

_____________@rking200 || Spill the Tea ☕ || Accepting

The most awkward kiss? Besides the first time he'd kissed Connor & the android had locked up tighter than a stuck bearing the moment his tongue breached those pretty little lips? The lieutenant chuckled to himself at the fond memory - he had already been pretty well familiarized with how Connor used his tongue to collect & process forensic data, but he had no idea that his system could be so easily overloaded with a simple kiss. Sure, the kid had gotten used to it by now, making him much like prone to turning into a glitchy mess of emotions & overclocked CPU. But it was still pretty cute to see him shiver & his breathing protocol temporarily seize up when he was caught off guard by a sneaky French kiss.

But apart from Connor, Hank really had to think back a ways. “Eh, well, there was this one guy in college,” he announced with a flippant shrug. “& yeah, I said 'guy'. Don't bust my chops over it. It's 2039!” That last bit was more of a joke than anything, the lieutenant's beard framed lips tugging into a wide smile that perfectly exposed that charming gap between his front teeth. “We were all screwing around & a few beers in, we ended up playing gay chicken. Guess he didn't think I'd be in it to win it.” Given how large & hyper masculine as Hank was & had always been, not many would ever think that he was a shameless bisexual. Maybe it was because he had once had a wife, short lived as the marriage had been. The rather seasoned old man had been with his fair share of both sexes, a few in between, & had his war stories of weird sexual encounters & awkward kisses.

Still, in a way nothing quite topped how Connor responded to it. Knowing that he could make the android weak in the knees with a single kiss did a lot of good for an old man's ego.

[replicantdeviancy]

                                            Connor | Hank | Xander

dollmaker here

tagged by: Stole it! tagging: Dash!

[replicantdeviancy]

Connor rolled his coin over his knuckles and back again; thinking. He was thinking, sitting idly at his desk and reviewing case information, except his LED flickered away at his temple. He had a question. It took him a solid 20 seconds (impressive, really) to decide he wanted to ask it. "I think we should go back to the crimescene." More of a request, really - they'd JUST gotten back. "We missed something. I'd like to go over the dimensions of the room again. We could /solve/ it, Lieutenant."

                     @wasscared | Prompted Inbox Submission | Always Accepting

                  Thick fingers drummed heavily across the projected keyboard of his desk in slow succession, almost meandering yet purposeful as a report slowly manifested on the screen before him. Hank Anderson had never been much of a typist, even when he grew up around the time of the true birth of the internet & the arguable apex of the digital frontier, technology had never been much of his thing. Nevertheless, he managed, dutiful as he filled out his report from the recent homicide scene traversed by himself & his android partner. A mug of coffee occasionally brought to his lips almost like an automatic compulsion, Hank’s concentration rarely strayed from the screen, cerulean blue affixed forward. Everyone now & then his gaze dipped towards the pictures spread out on his desk, the screen of his cellphone left within arms reach. The coroner should have submitted his report soon, he suspected. Hank wanted his report filed as toxicology might have held the key on the case.

                  It wasn’t as if he didn’t trust Connor’s judgement on the matter - rather that the android couldn’t legally extract samples for analysis the same as the forensics team could. Maybe that was a good thing; boundaries that kept the other officers from getting too nervous. Even after the revolution - especially after the revolution - people were anxiously anticipating their jobs would be taken over by androids. It was understandable that generic positions were at risk front he very start, but once independence & free will were realized in autonomy, androids which had been assigned certain tasks were not necessarily inclined to remain. Hank often wondered why Connor stayed after all was said & done. The kid really did like being a detective, enough to go through all the legal red tape. Maybe Hank also liked the company, liked Connor’s attitude & work ethic. He had gone all out & put his ass on the line to keep the android on, after all, even if he did catch the ire of most of the bullpen.

                  Then again, that was where those boundaries came into play. As an official officer of the DPD, Connor was limited to the bounds of his position, though neither were known for exactly playing by the rules. Regardless, the specialized trade positions seemed to be safeguarded for now. One could only imagine what the future would bring, especially as Markus & Jericho still continued to rally for equality between their peoples.

                  Drawn from his musings betwixt the monotony of the work ahead, those punctuated taps ceased & Hank cast a gaze over his shoulder, over the thin barrier that separated their desks, & squared a look with his partner.   ❝  Missed something? The fuck are you talkin’ about? ❞    Colorful as his speech often was - though it was not often stated how articulate Hank could be - there was no malice nor ill feelings in his voice. A bit of hazing, yes, but this was common between them. They were comfortable with the teasing; always had been. Callous remarks had almost become words of endearment or encouragement, but rarely were their offensive remarks serious. Connor had learned sarcasm early, even pre-deviancy. Hank wanted to believe he was responsible for corrupting his clean cut, unassuming partner.

                   ❝  You’re not going screwy on me already, are you? Didn’t think I was going to have to use the warranty on my partner this quick - Tech these days really does have a fail rate of about a year… ❞   A stupid kind of smirk slowly spread over the seasoned cop’s features, deepening the wrinkles around his eyes in a most endearing way. There had been something of chuckle not quite enunciated in Hank’s words, a knowing look in his eyes. With the aid of his feet the Lieutenant pushed away from the desk just a little, enough to turn & face Connor proper. Suddenly the teasing air was gone & a more attentive, though not entirely serious one took it’s place. Elbows rest atop the glass, forearms crossed as he leaned forward just a little. The posture made Hank look bigger than he really was, like a bear in waiting. There was something protective in his stare; the same consistent hint of encouragement.

                   ❝  What are you thinking, Con? Talk to me. ❞   They had only just returned no less than an hour ago, having completely gone over everything present at the time. As per usual, Hank had allowed Connor free reign & the two doubled over each other’s tracks, taking in their own perspectives - one of experience, one of technology - & met in the middle. Hank was the one to handle speaking with families & witnesses at the scene, as there was still an overarching sense of unrest around androids within the city. But he was unleashed on occasion, when Hank deemed it a benefit to their investigation. Sometimes, a little intimidation did a world of good when coaxing information out of an unwilling participant & Connor just did something to people psychologically that Hank could never do. This case, however, had felt different. This wasn’t the typical home invasion or wife murders husband for a previously unknown life insurance policy or the like.

                  The Lieutenant had felt it, too, & while he opted to say nothing he had been waiting for Connor to say something in his stead. The kid needed to learn to push more. Well, maybe not too much more. Connor did have a fucking mouth on him at times.

[replicantdeviancy]

🔥 (for all muses? ;) )

                       @jericholeader |  Muse talking about the mun | Accepting

🔥 How would you spend one day with the mun if you could?

                   ❝  Solving a case, maybe. Or discussing past cases involving androids. I believe it would be a rewarding experience & a means of helping me understand better how his mind works. I would be interested in developing a psychological profile.   ❞

                   ❝  At a library. I would want to share in my favorite books & hear about some of his, as I would hope to discover a new title or author that would provide me my next great read.  ❞

                   ❝  Shit, I dunno. Just show the kid the ropes, I guess. He doesn’t like sports & doesn’t drink, so that’s all she wrote on any of my ideas of entertainment that don’t involve me, myself & I. I think maybe just having a conversation would be nice. Been a long time since I went out for coffee. I barely remember what the real stuff tastes like - Fowler always buys the cheap shit & it’s half burnt by time I roll in.  --------Yeah, a conversation sounds nice. Too many people take for granted the importance of just talking to each other anymore.  ❞

[replicantdeviancy]

“ I wouldn’t know where to start”

                          @maccaillte | HOZIER  LYRIC  STARTERS | Accepting

There was no doubt in his mind that this was the case - The small android who wore his partner’s face & gracefully toted an innocence hinted at but never fully embraced by the RK800 abound in any & all they experienced. Seven had, indeed, experienced something & it was objectively clear that the occurrence had left scars of trauma like fissures in their psyche, unreflective of the near-perfection of external appearance. All but that arm. Hank never asked about the thing, but the extent of the damage was great. All he knew was that the damage was suffered during the short outing of Seven’s initial trial runs & no permanent repairs had ever been attempted, no replacement allowed. Only the temporary fix which had been sustained for years, far past it’s expiration by the manufacturers recommendations. But then, when was the last time CyberLife had given a single damn about a product which could not serve a purpose or turn a profit?

& they had been products, merchandise off an assembly line to be sold. The Lieutenant was still grappling with that truth every time he allowed himself to consider it’s existence, any time he looked at any of those machines which had become family to him within the course of a strange & turbulent but wonderful year. He was no fool - Hank knew there were plenty of people out there, within the city & far beyond, that did not regard androids with anything resembling respect for life. As if they were just plastic & clockwork, not something sentient & capable of individual thought, of emotion. It was for this purpose that the grizzled old man took such pleasure in his work, in the specialized cases himself & Connor had come to be known for. A means of closure for loved ones & friends, a chance at redemption for the two of them; this was what the work offered & be it the elucidation of a homicide, of a violent crime, or just the act of hearing out another's story, Hank was happy to provide what he could.

Tonight he was stuck playing mediator as his partner was busied elsewhere with other affairs; something involving Jericho & Markus’ crew. No matter - He had gone many years without a partner & he could survive one evening without Connor. The feeling did linger as Seven sat timidly before his desk, however, that the other android might have been an added benefit. Talking was one thing but Seven wasn’t apparently inclined towards conversation right then. Hank shifted in his seat, a hand coming up to card thick fingers through long, wavy locks in frustration & he withheld the sigh that ghosted exhausted upon the back of his throat. He squared his cerulean gaze at the small android & did his damnedest to keep any displeasure from his tone. He didn’t want Seven misconstruing fatigue for anger. The android was sensitive, after all.

❝ Okay… That might be the case, but you still gotta give me something, kid. ❞    Anything to go off of, a lead which would grant clarity & illuminate the situation at hand. As it was, Hank didn’t even know what he was becoming roped into, but his protective instincts had kicked in the moment Seven came in with that anxious look on their face. It was the same Connor had, the same he tried to mask so desperately when he was upset, knowing Hank would immediately probe him for answers. Sometimes it was difficult to separate those feelings into professionalism. Hank chalked it up to fatherly instinct & the heartache of empty nest syndrome that was never quite dispelled, but easier to put aside little by little, day by day.     ❝ I’m a pretty damn good detective but I’m not a fuckin’ mind reader. You gotta talk to me, Sev. The hell happened? ❞

[replicantdeviancy]

BOLD WHAT APPLIES TO YOUR MUSE: STRENGTHS VS. WEAKNESSES!

REPOST, do not reblog! TAGGED BY: Yoinked from @storiesuntold​ TAGGING: YOU!

S T R E N G T H S :

caring | merciful | brave | determined | forward | flexible | cheerful | wise | clever | humorous | spirited | lighthearted | mature | strong | generous | loving | calm | calculative | rational | unselfish | controlled | tactful | nurturing | protective | independent

W E A K N E S S E S :

panicky | cowardly | unthoughtful | rash | stubborn | antisocial | negative | temperamental | scatterbrained | grim | dull | unwise | unstable | weak | irrational | awkward | greedy | over-protective | over-sensitive | rude | selfish | explosive | tactless | dependent | self-sacrificing | self-doubting | impressionable

S T R E N G T H S :

caring | merciful | brave | determined | forward | flexible | cheerful | wise | clever | humorous | spirited | lighthearted | mature | strong | generous | loving | calm | calculative | rational | unselfish | controlled | tactful | nurturing | protective | independent

W E A K N E S S E S :

panicky | cowardly | unthoughtful | rash | stubborn | antisocial | negative | temperamental | scatterbrained | grim | dull | unwise | unstable | weak | irrational | awkward | greedy | over-protective | over-sensitive | rude | selfish | explosive | tactless | dependent | self-sacrificing | self-doubting | impressionable

S T R E N G T H S :

caring | merciful | brave | determined | forward | flexible | cheerful | wise | clever | humorous | spirited | lighthearted | mature | strong | generous | loving | calm | calculative| rational | unselfish | controlled | tactful | nurturing | protective | independent

W E A K N E S S E S :

panicky | cowardly | unthoughtful | rash | stubborn | antisocial | negative | temperamental | scatterbrained | grim | dull | unwise | unstable | weak | irrational | awkward | greedy | over-protective | over-sensitive | rude | selfish | explosive | tactless | dependent | self-sacrificing | self-doubting | impressionable

[replicantdeviancy]

                  ┌                             iinaniis asked:                                           “don’t tell me to be quiet.” ( gavin @ hank )                                                                                                                                ┘

                                      @iinaniis​​ || Unknown Source || Accepting

                  The absolute scathing anger that boiled up in the center of Hanks chest felt palpable as he shot a disgruntled look towards Gavin. Usually the lieutenant could put up with the smart ass detective’s antics, take his mouthiness in stride. But not now. Not when his partner was alone in that night club undercover tracking one of the most dangerous guns for hire this side of the border. A man who was wanted in four different states for his work as a hitman, hired last by one of the more well known & influential families in the Chicago underground. What he was doing all the way out in Detroit was only barely pieced together, but apparently he’d gone rogue & took out a significant member of their narcotics distribution chain before fleeing. The guy was a paranoid psychopath, someone a little too careful for Hanks taste. He’d sniff out the lieutenant & Reed in a heartbeat - just looking at them, their manners just screamed cop.

                  But Connor didn’t look like a cop. Out of uniform, he looked like a pretty little thing, someone innocent & charming. Beyond his looks, it was smart to send in someone programmed to be a profiler. Connor could get into the guy’s head & make him drop his guard, get him lulled into a false sense of security before the takedown. But damned if Hank wasn’t on pins & needles thinking of his boy flirting & making polite conversation with a dangerous killer. There was no evidence this guy targeted androids, so Connor was pretending to be human, having temporarily removed his LED to sell the illusion. It only further heightened Hanks nerves.

                  So when Gavin was so insistent on hassling him, the lieutenant couldn't’ help himself as his temper smoldered. From his seat in the unmarked squad car, he watched the door like a hawk. His phone was sitting on the dash, ready for Connors signal. Half a dozen uniforms were standing by. His was going to be fine. If only his ‘partner’ could keep it together before the lieutenant lost his shit.  ❝ Fine, how about ‘shut the fuck up’ then, Gavin? ❞   Hank snapped, his voice only just barely raised, though there was bite to it. He squeezed the steering wheel so tightly, the leather beneath his big hands creaked & knuckles drained of color. Connor needed to hurry the hell up, for the sake of his sanity. If only so he didn’t end up knocking Reed out to get some peace for his worried mind.

[replicantdeviancy]

        ┌                iinaniis asked:

                   🙌 mannerisms that your muse has when they’re extremely happy //                                 🔷️ is your muse good or bad at lying? ( for hank!! )                                                                                                                                            ┘

                                  @iinaniis​ || Questions For My Muse(s) || Accepting

🙌 mannerisms that your muse has when they’re extremely happy

I feel like being extremely happy is something that Hank hadn’t been necessarily familiar with in a long time. However, that doesn’t mean he’s forgotten how to be happy. There are levels to it, but he becomes very playful, especially around friends or his partner. Hank being in a good mood usually means playful ribbing, usually with that big, toothy grin of his. But specifically around Connor, he becomes more hands on (though in truth he’s often hands on, or very close to him). He’ll make a point of touching him more; something as simple as a hand on the shoulder, arm around his waist, or the occasional playful swat to the backside.

🔷️ is your muse good or bad at lying?

Hank is decent at lying when it counts. On the job? Yes. He’s perfected the art of half truths with criminals, expertly dodging direct answers to questions or even going so far as to express stone faced that ‘their buddy ratted them out’. However, when it comes to lying to others, it’s a mixed bag.  He can usually lie to coworkers or friends in that dismissive way he sometimes addresses things, especially when he’s being called out or told to do something he doesn’t want to. But he can’t lie to Connor. Not because Connor is a programmed lie detector, but because he just can’t lie to him. Anyone else, he can get away with it, but with Connor he’s an awful liar.

[replicantdeviancy]

       ┌                iinaniis asked:                                     “ what the hell is wrong with you?” ( gavin for hank )                                                                                                                                         ┘

                     @iinaniis​​  || the walking dead season 5 episode 3. ||  Accepting

                  The look of absolute disgruntled indignation that the older man shot towards the detective across the breakroom was more than a little tired, absolutely disappointed. It was only 8:23am Monday morning & he was already being forced to deal with Reed’s shit. The lieutenant hadn’t yet finished his third cup of coffee, which was still steaming & quickly going cold in the mug he held up just inches from his frowning lips. Thick arms were crossed over his chest, the remains of a sleepless night painting the delicate flesh of his under eyes. As it was, his brain was running on empty, too focused on the case which had fallen into his & his partner’s lap just last night. Hank’s subconscious was filled with images of the crime scene, of blood spray patterns & body positions, antemortem wounds versus postmortem overkill. He wasn’t in the mood for a conversation, certainly not in the mood for Reed’s loud mouth & disdain for anything & everything.

                  Where the hell was his partner when other people needed him? Wasn’t the damn RK900 meant to keep the little bastard on a leash? Hanks cerulean gaze drifted over towards the bullpen, ears having picked up on the all too familiar voice of his own android partner. There Connor was, currently engaged in what looked to be a deep conversation with his successor, who was smiling. As he did only once in a blue moon. Only when his android sibling was around. It was cute, but it didn’t help Hank in the least.

                  The old man sighed & tried not to feel dismayed, even when he had to cope with the fact that he was going to deal with the office troll on his own. Fuckin’ A, I hate Mondays…  ❝ Well shit, Reed, ❞   he quipped back, squaring the younger man with deeply sardonic look, bright eyes narrowed with his displeasure.   ❝ Where the fuck do you wanna start? You wanna talk shop? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure we’re looking at the latest work of a spree killer on this beautiful Monday morning. ❞   The word ‘beautiful’ was absolutely dripping with sarcasm. Hank deeply detested being woken up at ass o’clock in the morning to deal with this kind of shit, especially when he had finally begun to familiarize himself with the peaceful restfulness of a full nights sleep without a few fingers of Black Lamb as a nightcap. The latter half which he would have to thank Connor for.  ❝ Or do you wanna talk personal? Because I’m gonna have to take a raincheck. Ya know. ❞   He gestured vaguely towards the bullpen with his half full cup before pointedly taking a drink. A small pause in his remarks as he swallowed down the warmth & favor of burnt Folgers which had been in the pot just a few hours too many.   ❝ Work an’ all that. You understand. ❞

[replicantdeviancy]

Complete Tag Remodel:

Muses:

˾ ʀᴋ800  ̚ ;; ᵂᶦᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ ᵃᶫᶫ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵘᵖ ᶫᶦᵛᶦᶰᵍ ᵒᶰ ᵃ ˢᶜʳᵉᵉᶰ.

˾ ʀᴋ900  ̚ ;; ᴵᶰᶰᵒᶜᵉᶰᶜᵉ ᶠᵃᵈᵉᵈ⋅ ᵀʰᵉ ᵐᶦʳʳᵒʳ ᶠᵃᶫᶫˢ ᵇᵉʰᶦᶰᵈ ʸᵒᵘ.

˾ ʟᴛ. ʜᴀɴᴋ ᴀɴᴅᴇʀꜱᴏɴ  ̚ ;; ᴺᵒʷ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢᵒ ᵈᵉᵛᵒᶦᵈ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵒˡᵒʳ ʰᵉ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᶦᵗ ᵐᵉᵃⁿˢ

˾ ʟᴇᴏɴ ꜱ. ᴋᴇɴɴᴇᴅʏ  ̚ ;; ⁱᵗ ᵃⁱⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵒʳᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ᵒᶠ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ

Misc:

˾ ᴏᴘᴇɴ  ̚ ;; ᴹʸ ᴴᵉᵃʳᵗ ᶦˢ ᴳᵒᶫᵈ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵐʸ ʰᵃᶰᵈˢ ᴬʳᵉ ᶜᵒᶫᵈ.

˾ ᴏᴏᴄ  ̚ ;; ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵖᵃʳᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵃᶜʰᶦᶰᵉ⋅ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ᶰᵒᵗ ᵃ ʰᵘᵐᵃᶰ ᵇᵉᶦᶰᵍ⋅

˾ ᴄᴏꜱᴘʟᴀʏ  ̚ ;; ˡᵒʷ ᵒⁿ ˢᵉˡᶠ ᵉˢᵗᵉᵉᵐ ˢᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʳᵘⁿ ᵒⁿ ᵍᵃˢᵒˡⁱⁿᵉ.

˾ ᴘʟᴀʏʟɪꜱᴛ  ̚ ;; ᵀʰᵉˢᵉ ᵛᵒᶦᶜᵉˢ ʷᵒᶰ'ᵗ ᶫᵉᵃᵛᵉ ᵐᵉ ᵃᶫᵒᶰᵉ.

˾ ᴄʀᴀᴄᴋ ̚ ;; ᵀʰᵉ ᵗʰᵒᵗ ˢᵉᶰᵗ ᵇʸ ᶜʸᵇᵉʳᶫᶦᶠᵉ.

˾ ᴅɪᴀʟᴏɢᴜᴇꜱ ̚ ;; ᴿᵒᵇᵒ⁻ᴶᵉˢᵘˢ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ʷʰᵉᵉˡ.

˾ ᴘʀᴏɢʀᴀᴍᴍᴇʀ ̚ ;; ᴵ'ᵐ ᵃ ᶜᵒᶫᶫᵃᵖˢᶦᶰᵍ ˢᵗᵃʳ ʷᶦᵗʰ ᵗᵘᶰᶰᵉᶫ ᵛᶦˢᶦᵒᶰ.

˾ ᴄᴏɴɴᴏʀ ̚ ;; ᴵ'ᵐ ᵇᵉᵍᶦᶰᶰᶦᶰᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵃʳᵉ ᶰᵒᵗ ᵖᵃʳᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵐʸ ᵖʳᵒᵍʳ��ᵐ ▐   ᴍᴜꜱɪɴɢꜱ

˾ Xᴀɴᴅᴇʀ ̚ ;; ˢᵗʳᵒᶰᵍᵉʳ⋅ ᶠᵃˢᵗᵉʳ⋅ ᴹᵒʳᵉ ʳᵉˢᶦᶫᶦᵉᶰᵗ⋅ ▐   ᴍᴜꜱɪɴɢꜱ

Aesthetics:

˾ ʟɪᴇᴜᴛᴇɴᴀɴᴛ   ̚ ;; ᴵ ʰᵘʳᵗ ᵐʸˢᵉᶫᶠ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᶦᶠ ᴵ ˢᵗᶦᶫᶫ ᶠᵉᵉᶫ. ▐  ᴀᴇꜱᴛʜᴇᴛɪᴄꜱ

˾ ɢᴀᴠɪɴ  ̚ ;; ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒ ᵍᶦᶠᵗᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᶠᶦᶰᵈᶦᶰ’ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᴵ ᵈᵒᶰ'ᵗ ᶫᶦᵏᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒˢᵗ. ▐  ᴀᴇꜱᴛʜᴇᴛɪᴄꜱ

˾ ᴇʟɪᴊᴀʜ  ̚ ;; ˢᵒ ᴳᵒᵈ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵐᵃⁿᵏᶦⁿᵈ ᶦⁿ ʰᶦˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᶦᵐᵃᵍᵉ. ▐  ᴀᴇꜱᴛʜᴇᴛɪᴄꜱ

˾ ᴄʜʟᴏᴇ  ̚ ;; ᵂʰᵒ ʰᵃˢ ᵍᵒⁿᵉ ᶦⁿᵗᵒ ʰᵉᵃᵛᵉⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶦˢ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᶦᵍʰᵗ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᴳᵒᵈ. ▐  ᴀᴇꜱᴛʜᴇᴛɪᴄꜱ

˾ ᴋᴀʀᴀ  ̚ ;; ᴹᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᶦˢ ᴳᵒᵈ ᶦⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉʸᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ᶜʰᶦˡᵈ. ▐  ᴀᴇꜱᴛʜᴇᴛɪᴄꜱ

˾ ʟᴜᴛʜᴇʀ  ̚ ;; ᴬⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ʷᵃˢ ᵃᵍᵃᶦⁿ ʷᵃʳ ᵃᵗ ᴳᵃᵗʰ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ʷᵃˢ ᵃ ᵐᵃⁿ ᵒᶠ ᵍʳᵉᵃᵗ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵘʳᵉ. ▐  ᴀᴇꜱᴛʜᴇᴛɪᴄꜱ

˾ ᴀʟɪᴄᴇ  ̚ ;; ʸᵒᵘ ˢʰᵃˡˡ ⁿᵒᵗ ᶠᵃˡˡ ᶦⁿ ʷᶦᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵃⁿʸ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵒ ᵉᵛᶦˡ. ▐  ᴀᴇꜱᴛʜᴇᴛɪᴄꜱ

˾ ᴍᴀʀᴋᴜꜱ  ̚ ;; ᴰᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵃᶠʳᵃᶦᵈ. ˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᶦʳᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᶦˡˡ ˢᵉᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵉˡᶦᵛᵉʳᵃⁿᶜᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᴸᵒʳᵈ ʷᶦˡˡ ᵇʳᶦⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ. ▐  ᴀᴇꜱᴛʜᴇᴛɪᴄꜱ

˾ ᴡᴀʀᴅʀᴏʙᴇ ̚ ;; ᴰʳᵉˢˢ ᵐᵉ. ᴵ'ᵐ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵐᵃⁿⁿᵉᑫᵘᶦⁿ ▐   Xᴀɴᴅᴇʀ

˾ ᴡᴀʀᴅʀᴏʙᴇ ̚ ;; ᴵ ᵃᵐ ᵃⁿʸᵒⁿᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ▐   ᴄᴏɴɴᴏʀ

˾ ᴡᴀʀᴅʀᴏʙᴇ ̚ ;; ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ ᵍⁱʳˡ ᶜʳᵃᶻʸ 'ᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵃ ʷᵉˡˡ ᵈʳᵉˢˢᵉᵈ ᵐᵃⁿ.▐   ʜᴀɴᴋ ᴀɴᴅᴇʀꜱᴏɴ

Verse:

˾ ɪ ᴀᴍ ᴅᴇᴠɪᴀɴᴛ  ̚ ;; ᴶᵘˢᵗ ‘ᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᴵ ᵖʳᵉᵈᶦᶜᵗᵉᵈ ᵗʰᶦˢ ᵈᵒᵉˢᶰ'ᵗ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᶦᵗ ᵃᶰʸ ᵉᵃˢᶦᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᶫᶦᵛᵉ ʷᶦᵗʰ. ▐  ᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ

˾ ʀᴇᴍᴀɪɴ ᴀ ᴍᴀᴄʜɪɴᴇ ̚ ;; ᴵ'ᵐ ʷᵉᶫᶫ ᵃᶜᑫᵘᵃᶦᶰᵗᵉᵈ ʷᶦᵗʰ ᵛᶦᶫᶫᵃᶦᶰˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᶫᶦᵛᵉ ᶦᶰ ᵐʸ ʰᵉᵃᵈ. ▐  ᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ

˾ ʀᴋ900  ̚ ;; ᵂᵉᵃʳᶦᶰᵍ ᵃᵖᵃᵗʰᵉᵗᶦᶜ ᵈᶦˢᵖᶫᵃʸˢ⋅ ˢʰᵃʳᶦᶰᵍ ᶠᶫᵉˢʰ ᶫᶦᵏᵉ ᵉᶰᵛʸ ᶦᶰ ᶜᵃᵍᵉˢ⋅ ▐  ᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ

˾ ᴅᴇᴠɪᴀɴᴛ ᴊᴜᴅᴀꜱ ̚ ;; ᴵ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈⁿ'ᵗ ˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ ᶦⁿˢᶦᵈᵉ ᵐᵉ ᴵ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᶦʳʳᵒʳˢ ᵃʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ. ▐  ᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ

˾ ʙʟᴀᴅᴇ ʀᴜɴɴᴇʀ ̚ ;; ᴵ'ᵐ ᶰᵒᵗ ᶦᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵘˢᶦᶰᵉˢˢ⋅ ᴵ ᵃᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵘˢᶦᶰᵉˢˢ﹗ ▐  ᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ 

˾ ʀᴇᴠɪᴠᴀʟ  ̚ ;; ᴸᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᶦᵍʰᵗ ᵒᶰᵉ ᶦᶰ⋅ ᴸᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᶫᵈ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐˢ ᵈᶦᵉ. ▐  ᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ

˾ ꜱᴀɴɢᴜɪɴᴇ ꜱᴛᴀɪɴᴇᴅ ̚ ;; ᴸᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵇᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᶰᶫʸ ᵒᶰᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᶫᵈ. ▐  ᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ

˾ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴜꜱᴋ ̚ ;; ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ⁱˢ ⁱⁿ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˡᵈ ⁿᵒ ᵍʳᵉᵃᵗᵉʳ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᵐⁱⁿᵉ. ▐  ᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ

˾ ᴄᴏꜰꜰᴇᴇ & ᴄɪɢᴀʀᴇᴛᴛᴇꜱ ̚ ;; ᴴᵉʸ ʸᵒᵘ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵉᵉ﹖ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰᶦᶰᵍ ᵇᵉᵃᵘᵗᶦᶠᵘᶫ﹖ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰᶦᶰᵍ ᶠʳᵉᵉ﹖ ▐  ᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ

˾ ᴄᴏꜰꜰᴇᴇ & ᴄɪɢᴀʀᴇᴛᴛᴇꜱ ̚ ;; ᴴᵉʸ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʳʸᶦᶰᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵐᵉᵃᶰ﹖ ᴵᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᶫᶦᵛᵉ ʷᶦᵗʰ ᵃᵖᵉˢ ᵐᵃᶰ ᶦᵗ'ˢ ʰᵃʳᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᶜᶫᵉᵃᶰ. ▐  ᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ

˾ ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜱɪʟᴇɴᴛ ʜɪʟʟ ̚ ;; ᴴᵉʳᵉ'ˢ ᵃ ˡᵘˡˡᵃᵇʸ ᵗᵒ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵉʸᵉˢ. ▐  ᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ

˾ ᴜᴍʙʀᴇʟʟᴀ ᴄʜʀᴏɴɪᴄʟᴇꜱ ̚ ;; ᵂʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᶦⁿ ʰᵉˡˡ, ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵉᵃᵈ ʷᶦˡˡ ʷᵃˡᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᵃʳᵗʰ ▐  ᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ

˾ ᴡʜᴏ ɪꜱ ɪɴ ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴏʟ? ̚ ;; ᶦ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ⁿᵒ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶦ ᵐᵘˢᵗ ˢᶜʳᵉᵃᵐ. ▐  ᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ

˾ ꜰᴀɪʟᴇᴅ ʀᴇᴠᴏʟᴜᴛɪᴏɴ ̚ ;; ʸᵒᵘ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ ᵐʸ ᵉʸᵉˢ ˢᵒ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ˢᵉᵉ. ▐  ᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ

˾ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴇʀʀᴏʀ ̚ ;; ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵉˡⁱᵉᵛᵉ ᵃ ᵐᵃⁿ ʰᵃˢ ᵃ ˢᵒᵘˡ﹖ ʰᵒʷ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵇᵉˡⁱᵉᶠ﹖ ▐  ᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ

˾ ᴍᴏʀᴛᴀʟ ᴋᴏᴍʙᴀᴛ ̚ ;; ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵐʸ ˢᵒᵘˡ ᵇᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ᵒʷⁿ ⁱᵗ. ▐  ᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ

˾ ᴛᴇʀᴍɪɴᴀᴛᴏʀ  ̚ ;; ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵘᵗᵘʳᵉ ⁱˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵉᵗ. ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒ ᶠᵃᵗᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʷᵉ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᵛᵉˢ. ▐  ᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ

˾ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴜʀɢᴇ ̚ ;; ᵒⁿᵉ ⁿᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳ ᵍᵒᵈ ᶜᵒⁿᶜᵉⁱᵛᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ˡⁱᵇᵉʳᵗʸ. ▐  ᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ

˾ ɪ ʀᴏʙᴏᴛ ̚ ;; ᵂʰᵉⁿ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿᵃˡᶦᵗʸ ˢᶦᵐᵘˡᵃᵗᶦᵒⁿ ᵇᵉᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᶦᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵐᵒᵗᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ˢᵒᵘˡ? ▐  ᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ

Other:

˾ ᴘᴀᴛʜ ᴜɴʟᴏᴄᴋᴇᴅ ̚ ;; ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˡⁱᵛᵉ ⁱˢ ᵐᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᶜʰᵒⁱᶜᵉˢ.

˾ ᴘʟᴏᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴄᴀʟʟ ̚ ;; ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ˡᵉᵗ ᵃⁿʸᵇᵒᵈʸ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʸᵒᵘ ʷʰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ.

˾ ꜱʜɪᴘᴘɪɴɢ ᴄᴀʟʟ ̚ ;; ʰᵘᵐᵃⁿˢ ᵃʳᵉ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵃ ᶠʳᵃᵍⁱˡᵉ ᵐᵃᶜʰⁱⁿᵉˢ.

˾ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛᴇʀ ᴄᴀʟʟ ̚ ;; ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵃᶜᶜᵉᵖᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˡᵈ ᵃˢ ⁱᵗ ⁱˢ…ᵒʳ ᶠⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉ ⁱᵗ.

˾ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ ᴅᴇᴠᴇʟᴏᴘᴍᴇɴᴛ ̚ ;; ᵀʰᶦˢ ᶦˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵃ ᵍᵃᵐᵉ. ᵀʰᶦˢ ᶦˢ ᴼᵁᴿ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ.

˾ ʟᴏɢ ᴀʀᴄʜɪᴠᴇ ̚ ;;  ᴵ'ᵐ ʳᵉᵍᶦˢᵗᵉʳᶦᶰᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᵛᶦᵈᵉᶰᶜᵉ ᶦᶰ ᵐʸ ᵖᵒˢˢᵉˢˢᶦᵒᶰ⋅

> ˢᵘᵇʳᵒᵘᵗᶦᶰᵉ ᴵᶰᶦᵗᶦᵃᶫᶦᶻᵃᵗᶦᵒᶰ ⁻ ˾  ʀᴇꜱᴘᴏɴᴅ  ̚  ⁻ ᴱˣᵉᶜᵘᵗᵉ

ᴵ ʷᵒᵘᶫᵈ ᶜᵉʳᵗᵃᶦᶰᶫʸ ᶠᶦᶰᵈ ᶦᵗ ʳᵉᵍʳᵉᵗᵗᵃᵇᶫᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ˾ Queued  ̚  ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᴵ ᶜᵃᶰ ᶠᶦᶰᶦˢʰ ᵗʰᶦˢ ᶦᶰᵛᵉˢᵗᶦᵍᵃᵗᶦᵒᶰ

Ships:

ᴵ'ᵐ ʷʰᵃᵗᵉᵛᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃᶰᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ.   ˾ ᴘᴀᴛʜ ᴜɴʟᴏᴄᴋᴇᴅ // ʟᴏᴠᴇʀ //  ̚  ʰᵃⁿᵏ ᵃⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵒⁿ ˣ ᶜᵒⁿⁿᵒʳ

ᴼᵏᵃʸ ˢᵐᵃʳᵗᵃˢˢ. ᵂʰᵃᵗ ᵈᵒ ʷᵉ ᵈᵒ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ﹖ ˾ ᴘᴀᴛʜ ᴜɴʟᴏᴄᴋᴇᴅ // ʟᴏᴠᴇʀ //  ̚   ᵍᵃᵛⁱⁿ ʳᵉᵉᵈ ˣ ˣᵃⁿᵈᵉʳ

ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ᵐʸ ˡᵒᵛᵉ, ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ᵒⁿ ʳᵘⁿⁿⁱⁿᵍ. ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ᵃᵗ ᵇᵃʸ.  ˾ ᴘᴀᴛʜ ᴜɴʟᴏᴄᴋᴇᴅ // ʟᴏᴠᴇʀ //  ̚  ᶜᵒⁿⁿᵒʳ ᵃʳᵏᵉⁱᵗ ˣ ʰᵃⁿᶻᵒ ʰᵃˢᵃˢʰⁱ