strangetrip | [OTA] Amazing Organ

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[OTA] Amazing Organ

Jackson was, as often at this hour (unless he had plans with Corbie), at the bar, and well on his way to completely sozzled. He would have sworn up and down that he could still walk in a straight line, if asked, but the truth was that that line would have to be a little squiggly in places. But his Virginia drawl was more pronounced than usual, and he was at that energetic, talking-too-much stage where everybody nearby might be treated as a friend, no matter what his relation to them were, if they even had one.

"We don't talk about it often enough," he told the next such person his eyes landed on, without so much as a hello, "but the clitoris is, by far, the best organ in the entire human body. 'd ya know it's the only organ, the only one, that serves no purpose but pleasure? That's just..." His hands moved in the air as he looked for the right word, narrowly avoiding splashing bourbon with the one still holding a glass. "That's amazin'. Twice as many nerve endings as in a penis, too. Just picture that amount of pleasure. Men got played."

Perfectly respectable conversation to have with anyone, after ingesting as much bourbon as he had. Perfectly. Respectable.

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"What are you, a medical robot?" Jackson asked, a faint frown on his brow.

“Well. No. I’m built for criminal investigations. Pointers for hangover avoidance was an acquired skill.” Not the whole picture, but not wrong either. Hank rapidly lost interest in his technical explanations and he judged this man would be no different.”

"Detective robot," Jackson stated, watching the kid - the android - curiously. "Huh." He blinked out of it, and smiled at the bartender when she set his new drink down in front of him. "Thanks, darlin'." He took a drink, then asked, "How'd you go and acquire that particular skill, then?"

Connor eyed the glass for a few moments more before his gaze flicked back up to meet Jackson’s. “My partner drinks to health. Not his own.”

"So you ain't interested in sex," Jackson summed up, still ignoring the water, "but are in crime, and the health of strangers."

“I’m designed for human interests in mind. Concern for welfare is a useful byproduct of that.” As he said It, his LED flickered, rather noticeable in the dim and warm hues of the bar. “Sex isn’t.”

Jackson laughed at that. "Someone fucked up your, uh, logic... patterns?" Jackson did not have the technological vocabulary necessary to make his point, especially not in his current state. "Sex is one of the greatest of human interests. What's that?" he asked, fingers fluttering by his own temple to signify the lights flickering on the android's.

Connor watched the ethanol waft generously off of Jackson as he spoke and a dozen retorts went unsaid. To be human was to cling to the confirmation bias like a life raft, Connor was well aware by now. Then the subject suddenly shifted and Connor considered it fortunate for their chit-chat to move in a straight forward direction, however...

'Answer truthfully? Answer coldly? Stay silent?'

"It's a detonator."

"A detonator," Jackson echoed, his tone making it clear that this time, he was not repeating the word because he didn't know it, but because it sounded wildly ridiculous.

"A detonator." Connor echoed thrice and nudged the water bottle towards Jackson once more. His expression remained a stoic portrait. "A trigger to set off an explosive device."

Jackson glanced at the water, but didn't seem any more inclined to drink it. He was, however, beginning to wonder if the kid was serious. Could androids even lie? He frowned at him curiously. "What would they rig you with explosives for?"

“Why not? You don’t think it makes sense?” Connor managed to affect the appearance of cordial confusion.

Jackson narrowed his eyes at that display of innocence and confusion that was just a little too much. "Right. You're shittin' me."

“A bomb implant is harder to believe than a disinterest in sex?” Connor straightened his sweater sleeves. His police uniform was preserved in his pastel quarters—if it got damaged, there was no replacement for it while he was trapped, so it was making do with whatever the inn spat at him.

"A bomb implant is a lot easier to believe than a disinterest in sex," Jackson retorted. "You oversold it, is all."

“I see. I’ll have to try harder next time.” Connor gave a little nod to the side and straightened his collar next. There was no real reason to lie, but it seemed better to break the tension than to play into a one-sided interrogation. “I don’t think I caught your name.”

Jackson frowned briefly, trying to remember, but the kid was probably right. "Jackson," he replied, and held his hand out to the guy. Android. Whatever. "Captain, you wanna be formal about it."

"Very nice to meet you, Captain." Connor accepted the hand with a firm shake and carried on as if their conversation hadn't begun with a lengthy debate about the intersections of human and android sexuality that Connor had defused. "My designation is model RK800. Call me Connor."

"Nice to meetcha, Connor," Jackson stated, pulling his hand back. "So you got no use for sex, but you got use for a name?"

"Sex isn't typically used as greeting, Captain. You can't really equate the two." And back they were. "There are android models designed to provide sexual companionship. I'm simply not one of them." There may have been an implied are you satisfied yet in there.

Edited 2019-03-27 19:37 (UTC)

Jackson was fairly drunk, but he was fairly certain you didn't need a name to greet anyone. But he wasn't going to cut hairs here, especially when Connor here finally went on with something that actually made sense. Now if there were androids meant for sex, he was a whole lot less surprised.

Bit sad for Connor, but there was no helping that.

"Well, I'm sorry for you, kid," he told him with a sympathetic half smile, and gestured at his temple again. "So what is that thing, if it ain't a detonator or an erogenous zone?"

"You're very creative, Captain." Connor touched the circular light which was maintaining a steady blue hue. "This is a light emitting diode--LED, for short. It acts as a shorthand for humans to interpret the 'health' of our internal systems. Blue indicates stability, yellow is a catch-all for processing, and red indicates danger or a malfunction."

"Processin', like thinkin'?" Jackson asked curiously. He guessed it made sense to oppose thinking to stability, in a way. A 'don't want the masses to think too hard' kind of way.

"Correct..." Tilting his head, Jackson's unfamiliarity with even archaic terms for AI technology raised a few questions. "If I may. Perhaps we could play a game?"

That surprised Jackson again, and drunk as he was, it was plain on his face. "Uh. Why not. What game?"

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