Accident Prone - Becoming Human

Migraine

The long grueling day at the precinct had come to a merciful end. Following Hank into the house after an exhausting day at the precinct Connor found himself somewhat distracted by the perpetual ache in his head that his self diagnostic program couldn't properly identify. Said ache had seemingly dyed his blue L.E.D. a deep shade of amber-yellow. As the day went on the dull ache that had accompanied him as he awoke from rest mode became steadily more intense and his visual sensors became suddenly sensitive to brighter lights. It seemed that even certain sounds would cause the deviant detective to experience bouts of unexplainable pain throughout the day and it was undeniably distracting. The worst part was when it felt like his gyroscope was malfunctioning and causing him an intense, unexplainable nausea that made his symptoms practically unbearable.

Doing his best to appear as normal as possible Connor didn't once complain about his discomfort and managed to handle all of his necessary paperwork on time without any complications. Thankfully the day was long and boring instead of being long and eventful. Such high stress activity would've surely knocked the deviant down from pain alone.

"I need a shower." Hank tiredly announced as he shrugged off his coat and hung it on the hook by the front door and kicked off his shoes. "I smell like the interrogation room and idiot-sweat. Let Sumo out for a few minutes for me, okay?"

Pausing for a moment Connor briefly pressed his right hand over his eyes then dropped his hand back down to his side as he answered. "...Okay."

As pained and distracted as he was Connor almost tripped over Hank's shoes as he passed through the front door but caught his balance without any problem as he used his left hand to balance against the wall. Sumo of course ran up to Connor wanting his ears pet and Connor obliged for a few minutes with his right hand before opening the door wider to let the dog outside for a few minutes.

"Thanks, kid." Just hearing the door open and shut and not actually seeing Connor doing anything, Hank went about his business as usual as he headed down the hallway to get into a nice hot shower in the privacy of the bathroom. "It's your turn to pick the movie tonight, too. Find something while I'm down the hall."

"...Okay."

Sitting down on the couch very slowly Connor ran another self diagnostic in an attempt to finally identify why he was experiencing such odd reactions to his overall senses and to get some answers. Closing his pained eyes Connor felt a modicum of relief as the overhead livingroom light was shut out for a moment, and his L.E.D. flashed from yellow to red. Soon he heard every sound in the house as if each little noise had its own unique volume enhanced to an obnoxiously high level just for the sake of annoying him.

The sound of the shower running in the bathroom, the sound of cars passing by the street, even the patter of Sumo's nails on the front walk seemed to be resonating at an impossibly high decibel to the seemingly malfunctioning deviant. The most distracting sound came in the form of his own Thirium pump; his heart, pounding in his chest hard enough it echoed in his ears.

Stranger still Connor was suddenly aware of every scent in the air. The fresh spring rain building in the clouds outside, Sumo's thick fur strands all over the furniture and floor, and even the lingering smell of the precinct had indeed clung to his clothing just as Hank had stated earlier. Only now the odor was making Connor feel nauseated again and his artificial stomach threatened to betray him at any moment.

Even the touch of the fabric against his body was somehow uncomfortable to the deviant's artificial skin under his palms, the light jacket resting atop his shirt and against the back of his neck was the most aggravating. Every fiber on the beige couch cushion felt soft and abrasive at the same time. Every single strand of Sumo's loose fur felt like needles digging into his artificial skin.