#dbhtextpost

[enkisstories]

Balance

Prompt #1 for Gavin Reed a Day @gavinreedmonth

"Do you ever apprecciate how there's balance in all things?" Gavin Reed mused , what would have sounded serene and very uncharacterstic of him, without taking the context into account. The context being one of the ST300 receptionist twins walking past his desk and towards the steps leading out of the bullpen with an armful of old casefiles, sick reports and a broken tablet on top. The paper tower was swaying left and right, as was the android.

"Stuff a sock in it, detective!" Rika squeaked. "I wanna see you do this after the city refused to update most of your apps on account of no longer owning you!"

"If she found out how disable a shitton of useless junk on my new phone, I'd be actually grateful to the mayor!"

The detective's voice again, this time right behind Rika. A sudden dread rose up in the android. If Reed engaged with a co-worker, meat or plastic, then for two reasons: they had something or could render assistance he needed or because either he or Officer Chen were bored and looking for...

*pinch*

...a prank.

Like putting their wet finger into the android's ears to make her stagger and drop the papers she was balancing.

"Balance in all things. You, as you never tire to remind us, are not things. No balance for you!" Reed hissed.

Staggering, Rika grabbed for the nearest object to hold onto - the detective's desk. She breathed in an out through her artificially lungs, then produced a rasping, industrial sound, that only slowly turned into a bellike laughter.

"Same old goofball!" Rika exclaimed. "Never change!"

"I... what?! The hell I will... Won't... Shut the fuck up!"

"Certainly. I have to gather these papers, after all."

And then the bloody thing bent down and, totally unfazed, gathered the documents, that she then proceeded to stuff into a plastic basket that had been standing under Gavin's desk.

With a cheerful "Thanks a ton, will bring it back in five minutes!" the deviant machine left the room, carrying the basket under her arms, documents, cat hair and all.

That kind of cheek was unheard of and would have earned a human officer a bloody nose. But Rika was no human, not even an officer. She was... It was, in fact, the only pers... creature at central station that had ever laughed at a joke of Reed's. Other than Tina, maybe, but Tina more or less used Gavin as a human shield that kept other people safely away from her. They were not really friends, just two outsiders sticking together.

"Balance..." Gavin growled. What balance! Everything was unraveling, and the threads that had held together his world were threatening to strangle him. He needed a good laugh desperately. Well, actually he needed the androids being put back into their place, but since that wasn't in the cards again anytime soon, a good practical joke would have to suffice.

"In five minutes, you said, plastic nightingale? Just you wait, it's payback time!"

[enkisstories]

It's strange that despite having both Gavin Reed and General Hux in my current save, they haven't interacted even once.

In my head I have that mental image of them sitting at the same table, Gavin with a black coffee, Hux with a fruit tea, and venting about their nemeses (Connor RK800 and Kylo Ren, respectively).

Gavin: "Who does that tin can even think it is, strutting in here as if it owned the place? With its neatly ironed shirt and tie..."

Armitage: "He isn't even part of the command hierarchy, just Snoke's pet. And how hard can it be to get a haircut, when apparently he knows how to shave?"

Gavin: "Stuck-up..."

Armitage: "Head in the sky..."

Gavin: "With that stupid smile...

Armitage: "Weed smoking..."

Gavin: "Dipshit!"

Armitage: "Nerf-herder!"

(Both: "Uh, not you.")

Gavin: "He never walked the streets for a single day. It's apps and data stuffed into that thing all the way."

Armitage: "Apprenticed to Skywalker at the age of ten? In my book that translates to middle school dropout."

Gavin: "I have a track record of solved cases that rivals Hank's. Yet everytime a promotion comes up, they pretend I don't exist. They already call what is a piece of sophisticated equipment "detective"!"

Armitage: "I got trained by the founder of the First Order since I was a child. I built a better Death Star. I deserve to lead us more than a glowstick wielding mutant!"

Gavin: "So what if I elbowed the occasional co-worker and never pay a dime into the kitty? I always stop just short of sabotaging their cases."

Armitage: "So what if I killed two fellow Generals! The First Order is overall more efficient without them."

(At one point they may realize that the other looks and acts closer to their nemesis than to themselves and part ways.)

Gavin: "Phck."

Armitage: "Pfft."

Also interestingly Gavin has no canon backstory, but in my headcanon he was spoiled rotten by a poor (and briefly also criminal) couple, while Armitage was beaten and humiliated by his upstanding General of a "father".

(If anyone wants to draw or image edit this, feel free to!)

[enkisstories]

Follow up to the previous post: What is my terrible trio's favorite music? Daniel - Children's songs (from his programming), movie theme music, also filk. He rarely ever switches on the stereo on his own, and even when he plays the piano, he enjoys the company more than the actual music. (Besides, Daniel still suffers from the police helicopter PTSD and in some AUs that extends to all noise. Not in the current save, though, where his showdown with the cops is still in the future.) Ingame he is set to like kids' music and is neutral towards piano.

Gavin - I showed him listening to Country music at several occasions (written fics and simblr), it's something unique to my Gavin that wouldn't fit his canon personality. Ingame he is set to enjoy DJ booth music as well as DJing, because he autonomously beelines for DJ boothes both in Sims 2 and 4.

Daniel and Gavin have a song: Fire on Fire

Tina - She enjoys shanties, especially the vocal-only ones, since they touch her special interest, otherwise avoids music. Tina is, however, fascinated by extremely high energetic, primeval noise that she can dissolve her personality in. It's her equivalent to getting drunk.

Ingame she is set to dislike Singing and Dancing (but in the stories I established that this aversion only applies when she is in company).

[enkisstories]

Gavin proposes to Nines

Gavin (holding the engagement ring): “Isn’t that a dazzling band!”

Nines: “It was your mother’s, right?”

Gavin: “Yes.” (pause) (grins) “She's gonna be real pissed when she realizes we took it!”

[enkisstories]

Scene: Rupert’s apartment. Rupert, Hank (drunk), pigeons

Rupert: You look down, Lieutenant. Here, have an apple!

Hank: I can’t eat that. Don’t you know that these are grown by androids enslaved by Urban Farms Detroit? Where have you BEEN?

Rupert: At Urban Farms Detroit, growing those apples.

Hank: *blinks*

Hank: You... work... for Urban Farms?

Rupert: *nods*

Rupert: Yes, I’m a farm slave.

Hank (yelling): YOU SUPPORT THE SYSTEM! YOU’RE PART OF THE PROBLEM!!!

[enkisstories]

Gavin: We are the Legion of Super Heroes and Connor, a gathering of Detroit’s most capable crime fighters. And Connor.

Connor: I feel a bit excluded.

Gavin: You’re included. That’s what “and” means.

[enkisstories]

Detroit Disco

I’m in the process of creating the Disco Elysium precint 41 officers as sims to unleash them into my Detroit save. In the meantime have this drabble:

Detective Gavin Reed pressed his phone to his ear, only to move it further out the very next moment. The background noise was worse than ever. It was almost transcending static noise and coalescing into sentences, the echoes of each and every phone calls that had been made in Detroit since the invention of the telegraph.

“You were saying what?” Gavin asked. “Ah, I see. A drunk police lieutenant. Laid waste to his hotel room and threatened to blast his own brain out. Huh, right, that really sounds like ours. I’ll send someone over to pick him up.”

The detective covered the phone’s micro with his hand. “Your partner was found, Connor. I’ll dispatch a patrol android to fetch him.”

Returning to the phone, Gavin asked: “But how in hell did you manage to rile the motherfucker up like that? Wait, he did what? Toss your Great Skua against the wall? Why’d you show him a fucking Great Skua anyway? Hank is phobic of flock birds, of course he’d lose it, man! That’s on you!”

♪♫ So turn ‘round the fire with a glass of strong ale ♪♫ the stereo bawled. ♪♫ And tell us a story from beyond the Pale ♪♫

In Detroit PJ700-302 entered a regular DPD patrol car to drive to Martinaise. She returned with Harrier Du Bois.

In Revachol Judit Minot entered one of Precinct 41’s remaining three Coupris Kineemas to drive to Greektown. She returned with Hank Anderson.

Hank Anderson’s finger moved from one officer to the next.

“Gavin. Tina. David. Check.”

“No! Chester, Judit, Mack!”

“Uh-uh”, Hank shook his head. “That’s not Officer Mack. I’m a bit confused about how many Macks we have and what they all look like, but this man isn’t one of them.”

Three pairs of eyes moved towards the door when it opened. In came Trant Heidlstam, accompanied by Satellite-Officer Jean Vicquemare. A French sounding name, a name that wasn’t out of place in Detroit, similar to ���Martinaise”. So why was Hank unable to place that particular neighborhood on his mental map of the city? He couldn’t have spaced out that badly?!

Jean took one look at the stranger, his internal Conceptualization and Visual Reconstruction agreed on the man’s differences to Harrier being neglible and therefore slotted him into the same spot in his mind, regardless of how often the other officers stressed that Hank wasn’t Harry. What the heck, they even started with the same letters!

“Look, I told you I didn’t want to deal with this crap. Clinically depressed and all.”

“Clinically?” That tidbit at least piqued Hank’s interested. “As in: diagnosed? I never had the energy to get diagnosed. Even if I had, what would it have changed… They’ll only ever tell you things aren’t the way you make them and the problem is you.”

Yay, all I need is a change in perspective and Cole is alive again!

“But things ARE the way they are, and so you nod sympathetically, tell the psycho lady her mantra has helped you a lot, go home and uncork another bottle. Not that anybody would fucking care. They only want you to function, like an android.”

There it was again. Androids. This Hank person mentioned them every second sentence, with great disgust, but also with a scarily detailed lore attached to the idea. Where Harry had temporarily forgotten reality in the past, Hank seemed to have filled the holes in his mind with a construct. A construct involving a slave race of artificial people. It was probably a highly sophisticated political commentary. Alas, it was also highly annoying.

“So what are we doing now with Commander Corkscrew?” Chester asked.

“Shut up, Gavin!” Hank snapped. “You’re not helping!”

“I’m not…”

“I said shut your trap! Not just because it’s enervating as hell, but if you are serious about your promotion, you got to act more professional!”

So. There. He had said it. There wasn’t anything wrong with Gavin Reed’s detective work, just a minor tendency to jump to conclusions. Putting effort into improving his work performance might earn Gavin a bit of promotion credit, but the big chunk was to be gained in the categories “Teamwork” and “Character development”, two areas the detective neglected.

“But I don’t care to get promoted!” Chester McLaine protested.

And then he screamed on top of his lungs, when Hank lunged forward, hugged him tightly, kissed him on his forehead and cheered: “That’s the spirit! Our boy is growing up!”

Falling back on what he had mentally filed as a Hank-repellent, Chester whimpered: “A… ndroid? Android!”

“Yes, yes”, Hank promised. “We’ll buy you one after your promotion.”

The promotion Chester McGavin didn’t want, the officers realized. So there was no risk of having to really gift him an android.

“Say, there is a certain logic to this man’s ramblings”, Trant mused. “His brain is working differently, but it is working. I’d say it’s save to put him back into the contest…”

“Case. You mean the murder case, of course”, Jean corrected. He liked where this was going (namely a Hank-free office).

“…and figure out everything else while we’re going”, Trant finished his sentence.

And so it was decided.

*

“I’m not Disco.”

“Come again?”

“I’m not Disco”, Connor repeated, clearly puzzled and probably also feeling insulted in a profound manner. “This is about the only thing I got out of the stranger. Other than that he isn’t Hank Anderson, I mean.”

Gavin Reed slammed his cup onto the table, causing an elaborate castle Officer Tina Chen had built from potato chips and nachos to crash.

“And why is that so?” the detective challenged Connor. “Why are you unable to make progress with the deviant cases or to find the amnesic weirdo in our database? Because you’re not Disco! See? He told you!”

Gavin triumphantly leaned back in his cafeteria chair. He really had no idea in what way not being “disco” was supposed be a shortcoming. But he wouldn’t have been Gavin Reed, had he not jumped to every opportunity to diminish Connor RK800.

“If only you tried to be more Disco, you’d have the deviant cases solved in no time!” Gavin went on, under the impression that he was driving the knife deeper.

Connor, however, blinked, and stated: “But then I’d replace you even earlier, detective. If I solved the deviant cases, I’d proven that the RK800 detective android is superior to a human one.”

“Oh, shut the fuck up!” Gavin demanded, while swiping the chips into Connor’s direction like artillery fire. Then he kicked his chair back, pounced Connor and rammed him against a column. “Take your racist bullshit out of my police station and don’t forget to grab your new partner on your way out! I don’t want to see either of you again before sunset!”

“My new partner?”

“Well, you lost your previous one. If you don’t want to file a Lost & Found, you better take Detective Mindblank along instead.”

“I don’t think the Lieutanent being missing warrants a Lost & Found, Detective.”

“Don’t want him back? In this case we agree on one thing. Nice!”

“No, I meant that a human missing warrants…”

But Tina and Gavin weren’t listening anymore. Grabbing the android’s right, respectively left, arm, they escorted him into the foyer.

“You have your orders.”

[enkisstories]

During the revolution things were clear for Markus, never a question: North would always advocate fight, Simon flight, Josh always wanted to talk out things, Lucy believed in him no matter what and Connor was the sixths ranger. As the leader, Markus had to pick whatever approach served the cause best.

But after the revolution was won, Markus admitted that as a person, Simon was closest to him. Also hot. Skip a few days to returning home and introducing the new boyfriend, and suddenly a hitherto unnoticed complication arises...

Trouble is, Markus got a full fledged humanities education from Carl, he knows his classic literature, philosophy and probably some occult stuff, too.

Whereas one of Simon’s possible backstories is that he grew up in a normal family. He knows his memes, current shows and YouTube influencers. Maybe he has a digital husbando.

Much to Leo Manfred’s amusement, Carl and the new boyfriend don’t get along AT ALL. To Leo’s even greater entertainment, Markus often takes him aside to ask about this or that meme, unwilling to admit to Simon that he has no idea what was just referenced.

Carl’s (and by extension Markus’) deepest dive into popular culture is probably King Theoden’s speech at Helm’s Deep, wheras Simon enthusiastically hummed “Voldemort’s going down” at the barricades.

Basically this can be played up for comedy or used as a hook for character growth for the whole Manfred family.

[enkisstories]

My Belle Isle Secure Center story is finally complete.

The plot revolves around the deviants getting imprisoned in a CyberLife research center, trying to retain their sanity through the experiments and finding unexpected allys until they eventually prison break.

Originally the main characters were supposed to be Simon, Daniel and Leo, but halfway through I snuck in the DPD cops, too.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30382326?view_full_work=true

(Pictures taken in Sims 4)

[enkisstories]

Did something silly and chose to use Connor’s voice in the elevator in CyberLife tower, when he impersonates the guard (reasoning that he was still overwhelmend by deviation and not running at full capacity). I expected to get a “voice not matching, access denied” return, but instead I was adressed specifically as “RK800″ and told to find a human operator.

So that means that elevator doesn’t just check whether the voice pattern matches the guard Connor was impersonating, but additionally runs a second test: “Is_RK800?”. And when it detects RK800, it not only refuses to cooperate, but specifically instructs Connor to “get an adult”.

Now I cannot get rid of the mental image that during testing Connor routinely pranked the elevators. It was probably Jason Graff’s pride and joy to make the RK as lifelike and endearing as possible, trying to see just how close he could push it to deviance without actually crossing that line.

Heck, Connor might have pranked the Park Avenue lift on his way out, leading to Daniel getting the blame. (And in court Daniel confessed everything else, but stubbornly pleaded “not guilty” for sabotaging the elevator. It made the news.)

[enkisstories]

I was playing around with incorrect quotes generators again, and happened upon the “How are we doing/No one’s died/That are our standards?” one. It’s funny with of lot of chars, but with Jericho it hits in the feels hard.

Imagine that exchange in the dark belly of the Jericho, between a shocked Markus and any other very tired/resignated member. Heck, fwiw Simon could even pull “no one’s died” off genuinely satisfied, to Markus’ even greater shock.

Someone should draw it.

[enkisstories]

Tina (trying to make smalltalk): That’s a real nice, uh, rock you have there, Connor.

Connor (beaming): Thanks! The Lieutenant gave it to me!

Hank (from his desk): I threw it at him.

Connor (beaming brighter): He’s so nice!

And people wonder why Tina doesn’t do smalltak.

[enkisstories]

According to DBH canon, CyberLife androids can walk home from the store and conveniently carry your other purchases from the grocery store next door.

But imagine they were working more like the generic fridge or hoover...

"The device and parts of the interior are protected for transport Remove all adhesive tapes from the unit. You may remove adhesive residue with a cleaning solvent. Also remove any adhesive tapes and packing materials from the inside of the device.”

So when Markus freed the androids in the warehouse, they ripped duct tape off their faces and spit out styrofoam. When Connor ripped the Stratford tower android’s heart out, he suddenly had a hand full left behind packaging material. And everytime Connor dies and returns, Hank finds some left behind tape of styrofoam somewhere on his body. In fact, this is how he can tell apart Connor from Sixty - the latter has a tiny bit of tape behind his ear.

[enkisstories]

I posted a new installment in my Belle Isle Secure Center fanfic here.

Have an outtake (who needs a plot when you can have your characters play with kittens?):

The car slowed down and eventually came to a halt in front of Hank Anderson’s house.

“You never smell like roses, no?” Gavin Reed greeted the resident. “When you underwent detox, I thought I preferred the booze smell over the vomit stink, and today is even worse! You smell as if you’d went through a landfill on your knees!”

“What if I told you we’ve done just that, Connor and me?” Hank replied in a very tired voice. He moved his head, indicating for the younger detective to follow him. Together they entered the garage. Inside Connor has just finished tightening his tie. He didn’t bother putting his jacket back on, though.

“Wow, informal Connor”, Gavin laughed at the sight. “You’re raising a real REBEL here, Hank. Just you wait, by summer it’ll want you to buy it a short-sleeved shirt!”

Connor nestled at his tie some more. “Dream on, shithead.”

“Okay, I came to help you with the kittens, as agreed”, Gavin addressed Hank, “and I admit a tie will come sooo in handy for keeping them entertained. But first – what’s with the pulling androids out of the trash?”

The detective pointed to the trio’s feet, where the source of the Andersons’ garbage smell was rotting: Two androids, covered in soot and grime, wearing the tattered remains of their uniforms, their LEDs dark. On first glance it wasn’t discernable what had killed them, because although both were showing signs of wear and tear, there was no visible damage on their bodies. Both android chasses were female, one seemed to belong to a rather modern pleasure android, a BL100 or WR400, the other to a standard therapist of the KL-series. As detectives, Hank and Gavin happened upon those particular models on occasion. Them being damaged in some way wasn’t uncommon either, but the state Hank’s collection was in caused Gavin to gag.

“Ew…”

“Hard agree”, Hank grunted, before explaining: “They androids are witnesses.”

“Dead witnesses don’t talk. Or do they, when they’re androids? Can Connor access their memory?”

“We are hopeful, but for that we need to get them started up again, even if it’s only for a minute or so. The AndroidZone, where we inquired, told us this is beyond the scope of the repairs they offer. We’d have to take the androids directly to CyberLife.”

“Uh-huh. I see.”

“So that means we’ve got our work cut out for the afternoon. Can you look after the kittens in the meantime?”

Gavin firmly shook his head. That shouldn’t have come as a surprise to Hank. Highly competitive, detective Reed refused to aid co-workers unless directly ordered by Captain Fowler. In his attempts to get ahead of the other DPD detectives, he’d been known to even hinder them, stopping just short of actively sabotaging investigations. But this time Gavin’s motivation for turning down Hank’s request was motivated by something else:

“Nah, I mean, I could, but I really shouldn’t. Your lil’ furballs will want their papa around so briefly after moving in. I’ll take Connor to Belle Isle.”

That was a complication, but there was no way around it, at least none Hank could think of within the next ten seconds. To buy himself a little more time, he bade Reed into the house:

“Come in. We aren’t in a hurry. After all, the dead androids aren’t decomposing.”

“True, but myriads of stuff on them is”, Connor corrected his father-figure’s assessment, before following the two humans into the house.

It wasn’t the first time Gavin was here, not even the first time after Hank and Connor had cleaned the place up. The Andersons’ standards of tidiness weren’t particularly high, the house was clean, but looking lived-in. And now three kittens were adding to the mess – two enterprising ones by actively climbing on the furniture, leaving white, black and brown hair everywhere, and a somewhat shy one, that shed black and brown hair more locally, but in a higher concentration. When they saw Gavin, the two bicolor kittens retreated to the safety of a large mattress from under which they bent their backs to make themselves appear taller, while the tabby jumped onto the mattress, then pressed its body flat against it. And the “mattress” in question – was none other than Sumo, Hank’s aging St. Bernard! Like a rock, the large dog protected the kitten trio.

“Now that’s… that’s actually phking adorable!” Gavin admitted.

The man pulled a kitchen chair, turned it around and sat down with his arms resting on the chair back.

“Sumo played with the kittens almost since the moment they arrived”, Connor enlightened the guest. “Or rather, the kittens are playing around and on top of him. And you know what? This seems to be just the mental stimulation Sumo needs while Hank and me are at work.”

After watching the spectacle for a bit, Gavin spoke up: “You’ll have to make sure the old boy gets plenty of private space. I don’t expect him to get jealous, but the little buggers can get stressful.”

Connor almost had to take a seat at this remark. Gavin being considerate? That was a first! In his surprise the android found himself asking whether the guest wanted a coke. But that was the farthest he’d go, Gavin definitely hadn’t earned coffee machine privileges at Michigan Drive.

“Also make sure he doesn’t eat their poo”, Gavin followed up.

“Their food, you mean?”

“That, too. Dogs eat cat food before and after it gets processed by the cat.”

“Tell me you’re making that up!”

With a grin Gavin said: “I’m making that up! Totally!”

“Oh, shit…”

“Exactly. – My coke with a slice of lemon.”

[enkisstories]

The new janitor

Franchise: Detroit Become Human Characters: Gavin Reed, Daniel Phillips Kind of story: Fluff/Slice of Life

DPD central station. Late November 2038.

“…gender is a social construct anyway”, Officer Wilson finished his elaboration.

“Yeah, and so is Connor”, Detective Reed chimed in, causing Wilson to freeze in the process of getting up from the cafeteria table.

“Come again?”

“It’s a construct and very social!” Gavin barely finished his explanation before he exploded with laughter from his own joke. “Haha! Get it?”

Wilson shook his head.

“Because it’s an android!”

Again Wilson shook his head and now it sank in that the first gesture hadn’t signaled the man’s failure to understand, but disapproval.

“Oh, come!” the Detective moaned while Wilson put his empty coffee mug into the dishwasher. “If I had made this joke with, say, Rika, you’d laughed! Heck, Rika would have laughed herself. Only Connor is so damn untouchable on the pedestal you all put it…”

“Preach it, brother”, a voice rose up in Gavin Reed’s back, followed by the sound of a bag pack getting tossed onto a cafeteria table. Wilson used the arrival of whoever had just entered as an opportunity to slip away, leaving the newcomer to the mercy of Detective Reed and his jokes.

“Sorry”, the voice commented the luggage’s presence. “I don’t have my keys yet.”

Gavin gave a noncommittal grunt. The last thing he needed now was getting drafted into giving a recruit a tour to the locker rooms. Truth be told, the Detective was just as much an extrovert as Connor, but right now Gavin preferred to draw intricate patterns into his hot chocolate with a wooden toothpick. In other words: He wanted to sulk some more.

“Heard you were talking about Connor…?” the newbie said, while moving chairs around in Gavin’s back. Apparently he had left quite a sizeable puddle on the floor that he was about to remove now.

“So what?”

“It’s the worst.”

Gavin stopped fiddling with the toothpick. “It” the other had said. Not many people kept referring to androids as objects after the Revolution. Like everyone else Gavin had quickly adjusted to the new policy of treating androids as persons, whether you believed they were that or not. The Detective didn’t consider himself an android hater. For the most part the machines had been too far beneath his notice before the Revolution, and continuing to ignore them (except when you were bored or frustrated and needed a target to vent) worked for the Gavin. He only drew the line where Connor Anderson was concerned. At this point things became deeply personal in not in an affectionate way.

“Does the RK800 still work here?” the recruit in Gavin’s back tried to keep the conversation going. The Detective nodded.

“It does? Just my luck.”

“It’s got a surname now…”

“Don’t bother telling me, that’ll spare me the effort to forget it again. Thank you.”

“Ah…”

“Unless it’s something humiliating? Or funny? I’d be open to using such a name any day!” the other offered. Gavin still hadn’t turned around to get a good look at him.

“Nah, nothing of that sort”, he replied. “Just an ordinary, common name. What’s your gripe with the RK800 anyway? Did it shoot your android during the Revolution?”

“It’s a cheat, a liar, a pretentious schmuck and way too full of itself! It doesn’t know its place, it doesn’t know any boundaries and it’ll will steal the ornamental fish when you’re not looking!”

“Yeah, amen to all of th… wait, it’ll steal the fish?!”

“Okay, that last one was hyperbole. But I think you got the picture. You better stay away from the RK800, because it’ll find ways to screw you over.”

“Yeah, I’m aware. But even Connor’s former enemies are singing his praise now: Jericho, Kara’s group, even the deviants we had held captive in the basement, and each of them had a violent run-in with the RK800.”

“The archived deviants? No way!”

“Look, I work here. I was there the day we cleaned them out. Barely able to walk, the sorry bunch…”

“…and even less fit to think, if they think Connor is the bees’ knees!” the other protested. “I won’t have that! I won’t let them spread lies! I will… Oh, fuck, I’ll probably do nothing at all. Don’t fancy losing this job the way I lost my fam… Shit, man. But I’d sure want to…”

“So you’d look the other way, assuming someone, hm, I dunno, played a prank on Connor?” Gavin prodded. His proposal was met with utter and heartfelt rejection:

“If I looked away, I couldn’t check whether that prank were executed correctly!”

“Hehe. ‘t was only a figure of speech.”

“Oh.”

The disappointment was almost tangible.

“Okay, I’m done here, I gotta run.”

Gavin heard his conversation partner stride towards the floor, but not the rustling from him picking up his bag pack beforehand. The Detective pushed his chair back, turned around, grabbed the luggage and yelled: “Hey, you forgot your stuff!”

The bag pack’s owner stopped immediately and walked back the few steps he had taken so far. And now Gavin could see him clearly: a Caucasian male of average built and size, clad in work clothes. The man’s name tag revealed him as the DPD’s new janitor… and he was sporting one of the CyberLife standard faces.

Gavin’s jaw dropped. Had he just trash-talked Connor with an android? The only one in the world, it had felt, who was on the same page with the Detective, and it turned out to have been a machine? An mere echo room? Something CyberLife wanted to sell to Gavin, for all the heavy lifting and comforting companionship it could provide, and he had fallen for it?

“Hello I’m Daniel” took his bag pack from the human’s hands.

“Thanks. Would you be a dear and grab me a thirium patch from the First Aid cabinet? I got clawed by a stray on my way here.”

“A what?”

“A thirium patch. About this size and deep blue. You should have some lying around, with a large number of accident-prone patrol androids on your staff.”

“Get it yourself!” Gavin barked. “I’m not your fetch boy!”

“See?” Daniel replied, a sad smile on his DIN-normed face. “You’re back to normal. I don’t need a patch, by the way. My reflexes are far too superior to get injured by a fluffy cat.”

“Back to normal… as if anything would ever go back to normal!” Gavin snapped. “Everything changed…”

“…and keeps changing. I know. It sucks.”

“Don’t pretend to understand me, thank you very much!”

“Don’t thank me! No human ever did and never will!”

“Don’t… oh, fuck. Don’t turn around!“

“Why?“

“Connor just arrived.“

“It did?” Daniel slung his backpack over his shoulders as if that would hide him from the deviant hunter. “I don’t want to meet it! Not that I’d be afraid or shit… I just… don’t want to. Not yet. Not like this.”

“You’re shivering, man!”

“So what? I’m free! I can do whatever I want!”

“Well, except that shivering is your body doing its own shit. The opposite of being in control.”

“Why’d you care…”

“I don’t”, Gavin replied. “I just thought that if you’re working here, sooner or later you’ll have to face Connor.”

“True.”

Daniel didn’t know where this was going, but he noticed that a grin had stolen itself into the human’s face. Gavin leaned a little closer, and furtively he asked:

“It probably loves you as much as you adore him, ey?”

“I… DID manage to annoy it. Pretty sure it’s got its fear of heights that endears it so much to the public from our encounter, too. Me, I took away a fear of RK800s from that night, but that’s not newsmagazine worthy. Go figure.”

“Yeah, sad, sad, that”, Gavin said, while slinging his arm around the android. Before Daniel could make sense of any of this, the human had already dragged him into the floor where Connor was steadily approaching.

“Wave and smile!” Gavin hissed. “Don’t ask, just do it!”

Together they made their way towards the deviant hunter. They bellowed “Good morning, Connor!” and “Good Morning, Officer Anderson!” in unison, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Two friends greeting a co-worker… who very much understood that in truth two of his enemies were announcing their alliance.  A stable android, and an advanced model like Connor no less, wouldn’t have flinched, no matter how much hurt or confusion it felt. But a deviant? And a people person like Connor Anderson, too?

“That face was priceless!” Daniel giggled when the duo had gotten out of sight. “Thank you for a great first day at my workplace!”

“Don’t think too much of it. The day has barely started”, the human counseled Daniel. “It’ll go down the drain soon enough. It always does.”

“Yeah, I believe you. But when that happens, I know where to find you, pal. See you!”

[enkisstories]

So we all know how Connor had to guess Hank’s password. But you know what they didn’t tell you? How he had to guess each and every archived android’s PIN.

You DID secure your android that knows all your dirty secrets with a password, right? I mean, you wouldn’t want a random RK800 waltz up to it and boot it up?

Headcanon: Androids always know their own PIN, obviously. Deviants can and will change theirs and share it with close confidates. When North said leaving Simon behind was a risk, he replied he’d change his PIN in case of capture.