SYNTHETIC [Connor/RK800]

Cyan

Clink! Clink! Connor flicks his quarter twice before disposing of it in his pocket. His fixation had become a habit, and he understood it not. What about this quarter was so hypnotic. Minted in 1994, 379.12 million quarters currently circulated the United States. They were incredibly common. You could find one on the sidewalk if you walked for long enough. So why did this one have such a significance to him?

He adjusted his tie, which had loosened on its own, and approached Jimmy's Bar. The cyan neon sign barely lit the sidewalk in front of it, useless in terms of providing light. However, the shade was pretty, almost inviting. Connor approached the entrance door, eyeing the signs on it. 

'NO ANDROIDS ALLOWED' was printed on a red sign, which was pasted to the door just above a 'no dogs' symbol. How fitting. Androids just barely above dogs. Some might even argue that androids were below dogs. The death of a dog was often mourned with tears, the death of an android was on par with a dishwasher breaking. 

Connor disregarded the sign and pushed open the door. The looks of disgust he was met with might have made him feel embarrassed, if he were human. Part of him knew the definition of embarrassment, but as a machine, he knew nothing about the feeling of it. 

Embarassment, as defined by Merriam-Webster, is feeling or showing a state of self-conscious confusion, and distress. It is most often seen in humans in the form of sweating, blushing, or movements such as playing with one's fingers or shifting one's feet. 

At the moment, Connor only cared about finding Lieutenant Anderson. The man he was assigned to assist for the time being. Lieutenant Anderson was an infamous drunk who Connor was told could be found drinking near the police station. After searching four other bars, he was hoping to find Lieutenant Anderson here. 

The blue and red bar lights painted the room and everyone in it a dull lavender. Many of the patrons appeared to be regulars, judging by the redness of their eyes and cheeks. A couple of people just seemed to be enjoying a night out. Connor walked down the bar, scanning faces. 

In the middle of the bar was Lieutenant Anderson, who clutched a tumbler in his clumsy hand. His appearance wasn't very impressive. His hair was chin length and grey, a little ratty and greasy. He stank of booze and unbrushed teeth. 

"Lieutenant Anderson. My name is Connor, I'm the android sent by CyberLife. I looked for you at the station, but nobody knew where you were. They said you were probably having a drink nearby. I was lucky to find you at the fifth bar."

Lieutenant Anderson didn't look at him, instead looking at his own hands. Connor did not take offense to this, knowing he was probably inebriated. "What do you want?" Lieutenant Anderson asked in a monotone, clumsy voice. 

"You were assigned a case early this evening. A homicide, involving a CyberLife android. In accordance with procedure, the company has allocated a specialized model to assist investigators." Connor replied matter-of-factly.

"Well, I don't need any assistance. 'Specially not from a plastic asshole like you. So, just be a good lil' robot and get the fuck outta here." Lieutenant Anderson said, mocking him a bit. He raised the tumbler to his lips, sipping the amber liquid that sloshed within it.

"I understand that some people are not comfortable in the presence of androids, but I am-"

"I am perfectly comfortable. Now back off, before I crush you like an empty beer can!" Lieutenant Anderson threatened. 

Connor decided to persist. His investigation, as well as completing his mission, was very important. "Listen, I think you should stop drinking and come with me. It'll make life easier for both of us."

Lieutenant Anderson nodded, but continued drinking. Connor decided to be more aggressive, grabbing his tumbler and pouring the alcohol inside onto the floor. He placed the glass down on the counter. 

"I think we can go now." 

Not even a split second went by before Lieutenant Anderson lunged at him, grabbing the lapels of his jacket. "You little prick! I don't know what's stopping me from knocking you out..."

"Your sense of duty, Lieutenant. And the cost of repairs in you damage me. For your information, I'm worth a small fortune." Connor replied. 

And he looks it, too. Although he was an android with no special physical characteristics, his brain and intuition was more advanced than any of his peers. However, that wasn't to say that there was no effort put into his physical appearance. He was rather attractive, and kind-looking, all things that could aid interaction and negotiation. But did such effort have to be put into that perfectly chiseled jawline? No wonder he cost a small fortune, his physical design team probably spent hours honing every inch of his face to be pretty. 

He was released a second later. "Wonders of technology..." Lieutenant Anderson spat. "They can even program assholes these days." He slapped a nondescript dollar bill down on the counter. "Gotta go!" He says to the bartender. 

"Duty calls..."