When they get down to the main hall, one of the medics hands her a blanket. Once Stern's settled in the chair, she drapes it around him and sighs again.
"That's a good idea but," she starts and looks down to meet his eyes with a raised brow. "You need to turn off that big brain of yours for at least five minutes and calm the fuck down. You aren't gonna be able to solve jackshit if you work yourself into a nervous breakdown, not on my watch. We understand each other?"
She pulls away and wipes her hands on the lapels of her blazer. "Now I'm going to go find us java and your ass better still be in this cushion when I get back, okay? Let these folks do their job and stitch up your scrawny ass."
"I'm calm. Look at me, I'm so calm," Connor insists, fooling absolutely nobody. He's still fidgeting with his lighter, even though he knows he can't actually light his smoke while they're still in the building. He pockets it when he's left alone though, pulling out his phone instead and shooting a text off to his partner.
Two things Just how long has it been since you completely lost track of Simon and did you know Norman Jayden had a daughter? Because that's apparently a thing.
He waits for Gavin's response, picking a quarter out of his pocket and flipping it instead as he sits up, rather stiff and uncomfortable, his injured hand resting atop his knee. He keeps an eye out until he sees Jayden coming back, then just slouches and rubs his fingers across his eyes. He takes the cup but doesn't drink any just yet, just leaning forward with it held by his fingertips.
"So what's your deal? Why's the FBI finally getting their asses in gear? They must finally think it's important if they sent you all out here."
Gavin's at his desk and gets Connor's texts with a raised brow.
Around the time of Gran's funeral, why do you wanna know? And no I don't keep track of the family tree of your hero worship jerk off material. What, you getting a date or something?
Meanwhile, Veronica's found some coffee. The little cafe in the lobby has been brewing some for everyone working the scene for free so she heads back to Stern with it.
After handing it to him she sits down in the chair next to him, snorting. "Essentially. We've been keeping an eye on all the cases of 'deviants' in Detroit for a while, but it's gotten a lot more pervasive recently. Then this happened."
She takes a sip of the piping hot coffee, not even flinching. Veronica just looks at him. "Your name's Connor, right? And this mess is your case?"
Establishing a timeline. Well this very scary-hot woman was introduced to me as Agent Veronica Jayden and the only Agent Jayden I've ever heard of with the skillset for this investigation retired years ago so it kind if bears looking into don't you think?
Connor sips on his coffee as he tries to put his thoughts in order. The immediate blister on the roof if his mouth is just another annoyance on top of the myriad complaints of his day.
"Yeah. Look, I'm just Homicide. I got stuck on this because it has direct correlation between the progress of deviancy through the common models and the murders committed by traumatized androids in self-defense or self-preservation. That? Wasn't exactly unprecedented."
Or you could just ask, dipshit. I'm sure she can get you a meet and greet pass.
Veronica would be endlessly amused at being called scary-hot, for the record. She listens to him speak and just nods simply. "I had assumed as much. Detroit isn't the only place this kind of thing has been happening, but with the high ratio of human to android it's inevitable it's going to seem more 'endemic' here."
She's not a fan of treating every android like an unforgivable, unfeeling robotic criminal. She's seen how some humans treat them; if a human was being abused, they'd be worthy of sympathy and understanding. Yet in androids, all it does is cause more fear and anger.
No fuckin' wonder this is the state of things.
"Well, your buddies here all say you're a good cop," she continues and rests her warm cup between her knees. "And you seem like a real pain in the ass but you've got a good eye. I got no problem with making this easy on both of us and working together."
She looks around quickly and puts a hand in front of her mouth, speaking a little quieter. "Perkins wants to have your whole department kicked off the case. I'm the deciding vote on that and he's pissier than usual."
Right bc fanboying allover someone is totally a great first impression. You're fired
"Aw, I'm flattered," Connor mutters, snorting quietly as the commentary about his coworkers. He goes back to his coffee, shaking his head after a couple of mouthfuls.
"People think this is worse because they all hold the androids to a totally diferent standard. They're not supposed to be capable of being traumatized. They're marketed as perfect and that's what people expect. So when they start going off the rails, everyone gets fucked up about. Even though just about every artificial intelligence based scifi property in the last fifty years were cautionary tales about this kind of shit."
Connor rubs his hand over his face, as if trying to scrub off the tiredness still clinging to him.
"Yeah well if Perkins thinks being a fucking cretin to a competent investigator is gonna swing it to his favor then he knows even less about human beings than he does about androids."
(Gavin doesn't bring up Simon but he's... concerned. He's keeping an eye on you and your case now, Connor, what the fuck?)
Veronica nods then sort of shrugs a shoulder, taking another sip of coffee. "Despite all of that... people don't necessarily treat traumatized humans with much compassion either. With androids they don't even feel the need to fake pretending."
She's seen some shit. And despite all her father tried to shield her from it, she knows some of the things people said and did to him over the years. True, genuine compassion is a rare and wonderful find. She wonders if she's found it in this tall, scrawny detective in Detroit. Time will tell.
And she snorts at the quip about Perkins. "Don't I know it. But don't worry, I'm gonna hold him off. He can say all the shit he wants about my dad getting me this job, but everyone except him knows I got here on my own merits. Only thing Dad did was help move me into college."
Well then Gavin is gonna be one of the first to see Simon brought in to be hung up in the evidence locker.
Connar grimaces. He's been in this line of work long enough to have experience with peoples' lack of compassion firsthand. It's what makes him go into each case with the idea that even if nobody else is gonna care about these people, then he will. And he will care enough to remember all of them. He will remember the dead PL600 on this roof just like the PL600 from his personal worst experience. Just like he remembers the old HK that had tried to destroy himself before CyberLife could do it first.
Connor digs his quarter back out and walks it fitfully over the backs of his fingers.
"...I'm gonna have to take some time off over this, huh?" he mutters, looking down at his bandaged hand; it had been too late after the initial wound for it to be stitched with any real effectiveness. Now he just has a thick layer of bandage keeping his hand still and both local anesthetic and a couple of painkillers in his system to keep it from being absolutely miserable. The android had had a good enough aim not to damage tendons or cartilage, but it would still leave an obvious scar at least on the back of his hand if not his palm as well. He cringes at another thought. "Christ, how do you explain this kind of thing to someone you know is going to lose their whole fucking mind over it?" Because that's...not exactly something he's ever had to deal with, before Leo had come into his life.
The quarter fidgeting is an interesting quirk. He really does seem like a guy who can't sit still for too long. The important question is though: is this to help him focus or to make it so he doesn't have to be entirely alone with his thoughts? It's impossible to turn off the profiler brain sometimes.
"At least nothing too labor intensive," she says, leaning back more casually in the chair. Veronica raises a brow at what he says next though. "Anybody who knows your job should know that getting injured is an unfortunate reality from time to time."
He might get injured a lot though. "Overprotective parent? Partner?" She doesn't see a ring on his finger, at least.
"Well yeah, getting hurt just kind of happens sometimes, but this is kind of extreme," Connor huffs, lifting his hand then gingerly putting it back down.
"Boyfriend," he answers bluntly, just watching the quarter moving back and forth across the other hand. "I wanna let him know what's happening but I don't like scaring him."
She nods. "Well, you're alive and safe and being taken care of. So that's a good way to soften the blow, I suppose."
But she snorts and brings up her cup to take a few big swigs of the coffee. "I get it though. This line of work can make dating a real pain in the ass."
She's had a string of ex-girlfriends who all broke up with her for mostly the same reason, they couldn't fret about her safety and sanity all the time. Hell, her dad never married anybody even though he lowkey dated a handful of people throughout her life. (She keeps insisting one of them was Ethan Mars, but he always turns various shades of red and denies it and says he doesn't care that she's over thirty he can still ground her.)
"It's kinda funny, I met him because of this job," Connor muses, though he doesn't go into more detail. "I feel like he's aware that I'll get hurt every so often but it doesn't make it any easier."
"Just shows he cares," she says before she downs the rest of her coffee. "Dunno how long you've been together, but if it's serous the anxiety will simmer down."
Y'know, based on what she knows intellectually not exactly from experience. She hasn't dated in the past year or so, deciding it's time to just put that on the back burner since it never seemed to work out. At least she's still friends with most of her exes.
"Alright. You feeling any better, relatively speaking? Calmed down some?"
Connor's thumb rubs across the edge of his quarter as he considers that, then nods. His hands aren't shaking anymore and he's not actively having a panic attack, so yes, he considers himself to be doing pretty well.
"Yeah. I'm good. Get to go home and feed my dog so I'll consider it a win for today."
"Then I did my job," she says smoothly. Usually the most simple methods are the most effective, get them talking about something else to stop the feedback loop of Everything in their head.
She smirks, brushing her hands off on her pants. "And if you show me a picture of your dog I'll let you go home and rest. Sound reasonable?"
His eyebrow arches up at her and he can't help but huff a little laugh. He knows what she's doing when she asks that, and to be honest, he really appreciates it. He can definitely use a smiley, fluffy distraction right about now. He takes his phone back out of his jacket pocket and flips briefly through the album then turns the screen for her to see.
"His name's Riceball. When I got him he was this tiny little white triangle with black dots and his original owners had named him Musubi, so it kinda fit."
Didn't get those degrees for nothing!! Veronica leans over the arm of the chair with a small grin.
"Oh no," she coos. "That's the cutest goddamn thing I've ever heard. Look at that fluffy nugget."
She loves pets they've always been too busy to really have one, so she's settled for feeding the outside feral cats and getting little houses to keep them warm in the winter.
Bonding through crisis, never underestimate it. She laughs a little.
"I'm sure I'll be here a while." Then she puts her elbow on the chair and rests her chin in her hand, raising a brow. "And there's a good chance my dad might show up. I heard you fanboying earlier."
"You can't prove anything" is his automatic response to that. He knows he's not exactly subtle in his minor hero worship. He has no shame. He is terribly curious though.
"Why though? To see you? I mean, he's retired so I doubt it's in any official capacity."
Have a skeptical look. "Maybe not on a court of law, no, but..." She's been working long enough to spot a Dad Fanboy/Girl a mile away.
She shrugs. "He has some personal stuff related to Detroit. But I know him and after I tell him about all the shit that just went down he's gonna go into Protective Mode and fly here."
("I don't want you to get the shit kicked out of you all the time like I did, Ronnie. It's a pain in the ass.")
"Yep," Veronica says simply. She's never been ashamed of it; adopted, yes, but her father is her father.
"He adopted me a couple years after the Origami Killer case. And he's always been married to his work, so," she continues with a shrug. "Always been our little two person family and it's worked out just fine."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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"That's a good idea but," she starts and looks down to meet his eyes with a raised brow. "You need to turn off that big brain of yours for at least five minutes and calm the fuck down. You aren't gonna be able to solve jackshit if you work yourself into a nervous breakdown, not on my watch. We understand each other?"
She pulls away and wipes her hands on the lapels of her blazer. "Now I'm going to go find us java and your ass better still be in this cushion when I get back, okay? Let these folks do their job and stitch up your scrawny ass."
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Two things
Just how long has it been since you completely lost track of Simon
and did you know Norman Jayden had a daughter? Because that's apparently a thing.
He waits for Gavin's response, picking a quarter out of his pocket and flipping it instead as he sits up, rather stiff and uncomfortable, his injured hand resting atop his knee. He keeps an eye out until he sees Jayden coming back, then just slouches and rubs his fingers across his eyes. He takes the cup but doesn't drink any just yet, just leaning forward with it held by his fingertips.
"So what's your deal? Why's the FBI finally getting their asses in gear? They must finally think it's important if they sent you all out here."
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Around the time of Gran's funeral, why do you wanna know?
And no I don't keep track of the family tree of your hero worship jerk off material.
What, you getting a date or something?
Meanwhile, Veronica's found some coffee. The little cafe in the lobby has been brewing some for everyone working the scene for free so she heads back to Stern with it.
After handing it to him she sits down in the chair next to him, snorting. "Essentially. We've been keeping an eye on all the cases of 'deviants' in Detroit for a while, but it's gotten a lot more pervasive recently. Then this happened."
She takes a sip of the piping hot coffee, not even flinching. Veronica just looks at him. "Your name's Connor, right? And this mess is your case?"
no subject
Well this very scary-hot woman was introduced to me as Agent Veronica Jayden and the only Agent Jayden I've ever heard of with the skillset for this investigation retired years ago so it kind if bears looking into don't you think?
Connor sips on his coffee as he tries to put his thoughts in order. The immediate blister on the roof if his mouth is just another annoyance on top of the myriad complaints of his day.
"Yeah. Look, I'm just Homicide. I got stuck on this because it has direct correlation between the progress of deviancy through the common models and the murders committed by traumatized androids in self-defense or self-preservation. That? Wasn't exactly unprecedented."
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Veronica would be endlessly amused at being called scary-hot, for the record. She listens to him speak and just nods simply. "I had assumed as much. Detroit isn't the only place this kind of thing has been happening, but with the high ratio of human to android it's inevitable it's going to seem more 'endemic' here."
She's not a fan of treating every android like an unforgivable, unfeeling robotic criminal. She's seen how some humans treat them; if a human was being abused, they'd be worthy of sympathy and understanding. Yet in androids, all it does is cause more fear and anger.
No fuckin' wonder this is the state of things.
"Well, your buddies here all say you're a good cop," she continues and rests her warm cup between her knees. "And you seem like a real pain in the ass but you've got a good eye. I got no problem with making this easy on both of us and working together."
She looks around quickly and puts a hand in front of her mouth, speaking a little quieter. "Perkins wants to have your whole department kicked off the case. I'm the deciding vote on that and he's pissier than usual."
no subject
You're fired
"Aw, I'm flattered," Connor mutters, snorting quietly as the commentary about his coworkers. He goes back to his coffee, shaking his head after a couple of mouthfuls.
"People think this is worse because they all hold the androids to a totally diferent standard. They're not supposed to be capable of being traumatized. They're marketed as perfect and that's what people expect. So when they start going off the rails, everyone gets fucked up about. Even though just about every artificial intelligence based scifi property in the last fifty years were cautionary tales about this kind of shit."
Connor rubs his hand over his face, as if trying to scrub off the tiredness still clinging to him.
"Yeah well if Perkins thinks being a fucking cretin to a competent investigator is gonna swing it to his favor then he knows even less about human beings than he does about androids."
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(Gavin doesn't bring up Simon but he's... concerned. He's keeping an eye on you and your case now, Connor, what the fuck?)
Veronica nods then sort of shrugs a shoulder, taking another sip of coffee. "Despite all of that... people don't necessarily treat traumatized humans with much compassion either. With androids they don't even feel the need to fake pretending."
She's seen some shit. And despite all her father tried to shield her from it, she knows some of the things people said and did to him over the years. True, genuine compassion is a rare and wonderful find. She wonders if she's found it in this tall, scrawny detective in Detroit. Time will tell.
And she snorts at the quip about Perkins. "Don't I know it. But don't worry, I'm gonna hold him off. He can say all the shit he wants about my dad getting me this job, but everyone except him knows I got here on my own merits. Only thing Dad did was help move me into college."
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Connar grimaces. He's been in this line of work long enough to have experience with peoples' lack of compassion firsthand. It's what makes him go into each case with the idea that even if nobody else is gonna care about these people, then he will. And he will care enough to remember all of them. He will remember the dead PL600 on this roof just like the PL600 from his personal worst experience. Just like he remembers the old HK that had tried to destroy himself before CyberLife could do it first.
Connor digs his quarter back out and walks it fitfully over the backs of his fingers.
"...I'm gonna have to take some time off over this, huh?" he mutters, looking down at his bandaged hand; it had been too late after the initial wound for it to be stitched with any real effectiveness. Now he just has a thick layer of bandage keeping his hand still and both local anesthetic and a couple of painkillers in his system to keep it from being absolutely miserable. The android had had a good enough aim not to damage tendons or cartilage, but it would still leave an obvious scar at least on the back of his hand if not his palm as well. He cringes at another thought. "Christ, how do you explain this kind of thing to someone you know is going to lose their whole fucking mind over it?" Because that's...not exactly something he's ever had to deal with, before Leo had come into his life.
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"At least nothing too labor intensive," she says, leaning back more casually in the chair. Veronica raises a brow at what he says next though. "Anybody who knows your job should know that getting injured is an unfortunate reality from time to time."
He might get injured a lot though. "Overprotective parent? Partner?" She doesn't see a ring on his finger, at least.
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"Boyfriend," he answers bluntly, just watching the quarter moving back and forth across the other hand. "I wanna let him know what's happening but I don't like scaring him."
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But she snorts and brings up her cup to take a few big swigs of the coffee. "I get it though. This line of work can make dating a real pain in the ass."
She's had a string of ex-girlfriends who all broke up with her for mostly the same reason, they couldn't fret about her safety and sanity all the time. Hell, her dad never married anybody even though he lowkey dated a handful of people throughout her life. (She keeps insisting one of them was Ethan Mars, but he always turns various shades of red and denies it and says he doesn't care that she's over thirty he can still ground her.)
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Y'know, based on what she knows intellectually not exactly from experience. She hasn't dated in the past year or so, deciding it's time to just put that on the back burner since it never seemed to work out. At least she's still friends with most of her exes.
"Alright. You feeling any better, relatively speaking? Calmed down some?"
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"Yeah. I'm good. Get to go home and feed my dog so I'll consider it a win for today."
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She smirks, brushing her hands off on her pants. "And if you show me a picture of your dog I'll let you go home and rest. Sound reasonable?"
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"His name's Riceball. When I got him he was this tiny little white triangle with black dots and his original owners had named him Musubi, so it kinda fit."
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"Oh no," she coos. "That's the cutest goddamn thing I've ever heard. Look at that fluffy nugget."
She loves pets they've always been too busy to really have one, so she's settled for feeding the outside feral cats and getting little houses to keep them warm in the winter.
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"Bet one of these days he'd like to meet you, if you stick around Detroit long enough."
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"I'm sure I'll be here a while." Then she puts her elbow on the chair and rests her chin in her hand, raising a brow. "And there's a good chance my dad might show up. I heard you fanboying earlier."
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"Why though? To see you? I mean, he's retired so I doubt it's in any official capacity."
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She shrugs. "He has some personal stuff related to Detroit. But I know him and after I tell him about all the shit that just went down he's gonna go into Protective Mode and fly here."
("I don't want you to get the shit kicked out of you all the time like I did, Ronnie. It's a pain in the ass.")
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"If you don't mind me saying? You really don't look anything like him and there was never any info about him being married, so...adopted?"
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"He adopted me a couple years after the Origami Killer case. And he's always been married to his work, so," she continues with a shrug. "Always been our little two person family and it's worked out just fine."
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"That's good, really good. Seems like he needed something better after that. Good that you two have eachother."