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ᴄᴏɴɴᴏʀ (cyberlife) wrote in theconsolelog,

for the weather at 12, chance of small storms with robot son not wanting to go to android camp, dad
It would have been unnecessary to look for bugs or threats within their room. Connor of course had been thorough, but he understood Hank's need for double checking. He would have told him that the animals of this town had little to no electronic devices, save for televisions and the like, they were not so advanced. But it was unimportant. The compliment was important, and Connor relished in it, even if he didn't understand why he would need a golden sticker. A sarcastic implication, most likely. All the same, the contact and the words made Connor smile again, watching Hank make himself comfortable. Eyes following his movements and gestures as Connor nodded in agreement. "If there was a way here, then there is a way back. Someone will know something and we'll piece it together." Just like they did back home. He wasn't lying when he said he enjoyed working with Hank, they made a great team. All entrances had doors after all, and doors opened both ways, they'd figure it out.

Out of habit and because Connor was just tidy, he took Hank's jacket and let it hang nicely on one of the wooden anchors on the wall. After a short consideration, he decided to try and take off his own jacket, placing it on the other, eyes running over the glint of his titled uniform, and indication of what he was--or supposed to be. It odd only for a moment but definitely more comfortable. As nice as his jacket was.

"Markus?" He questioned, turning around to face Hank curiously. What did helping Markus have to do with going back home? He had a lot on his 'plate'. An analogy for being busy, he decided. Did Hank presume he was too busy for him now? "Markus was successful because he led a peaceful protest that won over public opinion and pressured the decision makers. I only freed the remaining androids from CyberLife...but I don't understand what that has to do with finding a way home."

The android folded his arms over his chest, holding his side and elbows as he thought. A mannerism not in programming. Something he did when troubled, like back at the park in the snow. "You are assuming I'm eager to get back to the other androids. But I'm not." He shook his head for emphasis. He didn't want to leave Hank. Connor was still understanding the freedom and implications of 'wants' now. He had few: be alive and free, be with his friend, find out who he was, really. "I helped him because it was the right thing to do and those androids deserved to be free. But now I don't have any other purpose or mission. I don't have any other place to be, Hank."