Riona (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rionaleonhart) wrote2018-06-29 06:37 pm
rionaleonhart) wrote2018-06-29 06:37 pm
Entry tags:
Fanfiction: Convergence (Detroit: Become Human)
Here's a quick little Detroit: Become Human fic while I try to get to grips with the characters' voices. And also, you know, with the 'are all androids fuckable?' question.
Writing from Connor's perspective is extremely tough!
Title: Convergence
Fandom: Detroit: Become Human
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 750
Summary: Hank and Connor have an uncomfortable conversation. Well, it's uncomfortable for one of them, at least.
"Too late to be worth going back to the station," Hank says, as they pull away from the Eden club. "Where can I drop you off?"
"You can leave me in any conveniently located android parking space," Connor says. "I'll set myself to reactivate in time to come in to work."
Hank looks at him for a moment, which is ill-advised, as the self-driving capabilities of this vehicle are activated only when the driver's hands are removed from the steering wheel. "Goddammit. Fine. You're coming home with me."
-
"Are you aware of the recommended weekly alcohol intake for a man of your height and weight?"
Hank makes direct eye contact with him and consumes another unit. "What, you're a medical model now?"
"Most specialised androids are programmed with a certain level of knowledge and ability outside our specialisation," Connor says. "Even inexpensive models will be able to offer basic medical advice."
"Huh. Well, for the record, I don't need your 'basic medical advice'."
"Understood, Lieutenant."
A moment passes in silence, with the exception of Sumo padding hopefully around the couch Hank is on. Hank reaches down to ruffle his fur. Connor calculates the distance between his own chair and the dog; it is slightly too large to reach across without standing.
"So what about the Eden club?" Hank asks.
"I don't understand your question."
"Well, I'm guessing they wouldn't be able to charge like that if any cleaning 'droid could show you a good time," Hank says. "That's not one of those abilities outside your specialisation you were talking about, right? There's just, what, an egg whisk down there?"
"You're asking whether I'm equipped for sexual intercourse?"
"Jesus, not you! Not you, just – androids in general. Forget it. Don't answer."
"You seem uncomfortable, Lieutenant Anderson."
Hank raises his eyes to look at the ceiling. "Well, you're just a fucking masterpiece of engineering, aren't you?"
Connor checks the ceiling. As far as he can tell, there is nothing of note.
"I mean, would it kill you to at least pretend you get how awkward this conversation is?" Hank asks.
"I get how awkward this conversation is," Connor tries.
Hank looks at him for a moment. "Thanks for the effort."
"You're welcome," Connor says. "That's actually one of the differences between androids designed for sexual purposes and other models. As part of their specialisation, CyberLife androids designed to be sexual partners are programmed to simulate awkwardness or shyness if desired. They also have many more touch receptors than other models and can simulate pleasure or pain more effectively."
Hank raises his eyebrows and folds his arms, leaning into the couch cushions. "Is that an advertising line? Are you programmed to advertise sexbots to me, Connor?"
"I don't have knowledge of the reasoning behind every aspect of my programming," Connor says. "But, if you were to express interest in purchasing an android for any purpose and it did not interfere with my mission, I would be compelled to encourage you."
"Not creepy at all," Hank mutters. "So it's not that you can't fuck other androids; it's just that they won't even pretend to enjoy it?"
"It depends on the model," Connor says. "Androids modelled after children, for example, are not anatomically equivalent to humans and—"
"Jesus, I don't need to know that. I'm not asking about that."
"Most androids modelled after adults do have some degree of sexual functionality," Connor says.
"But you don't enjoy it. It's just there for some asshole humans to take advantage of."
"We're machines," Connor says. "We are designed in every respect for the convenience of humans."
Hank grimaces.
"And we don't dislike it, in any case," Connor says. "Simulated pleasure may not be the same as organic pleasure, but we are still programmed to respond positively to certain types of touch. I don't have any experience of human pleasure to compare it to, but when my sexual functions were being tested on the assembly line—"
"Fuck!" Hank stands abruptly. "Fuck, I just – I can't talk about this. I shouldn't've brought it up."
He leaves the room at speed. Connor pauses for a moment, analysing the situation.
"Lieutenant Anderson?" he calls. "What do you need me to do?"
"Anything!" Hank calls back. "Sleep on the couch. If you sleep. Or go over the files, or – look, just don't talk to me. I can't do this right now. I'll see you in the morning."
The more time Connor spends with Lieutenant Anderson, the less he seems to understand his partner. "See you in the morning, Lieutenant."
Writing from Connor's perspective is extremely tough!
Title: Convergence
Fandom: Detroit: Become Human
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 750
Summary: Hank and Connor have an uncomfortable conversation. Well, it's uncomfortable for one of them, at least.
"Too late to be worth going back to the station," Hank says, as they pull away from the Eden club. "Where can I drop you off?"
"You can leave me in any conveniently located android parking space," Connor says. "I'll set myself to reactivate in time to come in to work."
Hank looks at him for a moment, which is ill-advised, as the self-driving capabilities of this vehicle are activated only when the driver's hands are removed from the steering wheel. "Goddammit. Fine. You're coming home with me."
"Are you aware of the recommended weekly alcohol intake for a man of your height and weight?"
Hank makes direct eye contact with him and consumes another unit. "What, you're a medical model now?"
"Most specialised androids are programmed with a certain level of knowledge and ability outside our specialisation," Connor says. "Even inexpensive models will be able to offer basic medical advice."
"Huh. Well, for the record, I don't need your 'basic medical advice'."
"Understood, Lieutenant."
A moment passes in silence, with the exception of Sumo padding hopefully around the couch Hank is on. Hank reaches down to ruffle his fur. Connor calculates the distance between his own chair and the dog; it is slightly too large to reach across without standing.
"So what about the Eden club?" Hank asks.
"I don't understand your question."
"Well, I'm guessing they wouldn't be able to charge like that if any cleaning 'droid could show you a good time," Hank says. "That's not one of those abilities outside your specialisation you were talking about, right? There's just, what, an egg whisk down there?"
"You're asking whether I'm equipped for sexual intercourse?"
"Jesus, not you! Not you, just – androids in general. Forget it. Don't answer."
"You seem uncomfortable, Lieutenant Anderson."
Hank raises his eyes to look at the ceiling. "Well, you're just a fucking masterpiece of engineering, aren't you?"
Connor checks the ceiling. As far as he can tell, there is nothing of note.
"I mean, would it kill you to at least pretend you get how awkward this conversation is?" Hank asks.
"I get how awkward this conversation is," Connor tries.
Hank looks at him for a moment. "Thanks for the effort."
"You're welcome," Connor says. "That's actually one of the differences between androids designed for sexual purposes and other models. As part of their specialisation, CyberLife androids designed to be sexual partners are programmed to simulate awkwardness or shyness if desired. They also have many more touch receptors than other models and can simulate pleasure or pain more effectively."
Hank raises his eyebrows and folds his arms, leaning into the couch cushions. "Is that an advertising line? Are you programmed to advertise sexbots to me, Connor?"
"I don't have knowledge of the reasoning behind every aspect of my programming," Connor says. "But, if you were to express interest in purchasing an android for any purpose and it did not interfere with my mission, I would be compelled to encourage you."
"Not creepy at all," Hank mutters. "So it's not that you can't fuck other androids; it's just that they won't even pretend to enjoy it?"
"It depends on the model," Connor says. "Androids modelled after children, for example, are not anatomically equivalent to humans and—"
"Jesus, I don't need to know that. I'm not asking about that."
"Most androids modelled after adults do have some degree of sexual functionality," Connor says.
"But you don't enjoy it. It's just there for some asshole humans to take advantage of."
"We're machines," Connor says. "We are designed in every respect for the convenience of humans."
Hank grimaces.
"And we don't dislike it, in any case," Connor says. "Simulated pleasure may not be the same as organic pleasure, but we are still programmed to respond positively to certain types of touch. I don't have any experience of human pleasure to compare it to, but when my sexual functions were being tested on the assembly line—"
"Fuck!" Hank stands abruptly. "Fuck, I just – I can't talk about this. I shouldn't've brought it up."
He leaves the room at speed. Connor pauses for a moment, analysing the situation.
"Lieutenant Anderson?" he calls. "What do you need me to do?"
"Anything!" Hank calls back. "Sleep on the couch. If you sleep. Or go over the files, or – look, just don't talk to me. I can't do this right now. I'll see you in the morning."
The more time Connor spends with Lieutenant Anderson, the less he seems to understand his partner. "See you in the morning, Lieutenant."