Dechart: Become Connor

Connor 3

After Anderson leaves, there's hardly anyone left in the building. Must be a switch of shifts. She decides to play her music out loud, a band I manage to see is Hollywood Undead. A very old band. They haven't had music since 2018. Her song of choice is... interesting to say the least. Very explicit and inappropriate. The first verse plays. 'I beat the pussy up like Ying-Yang. Put it right, third like Ching-Chang, you know I make her shit bang!'

"You have a very interesting taste in music, detective Bowie." I voice. She chuckles in response.

"This song cracks me up. These guys are either depressing or complete womanizers." She explains.

"Then surely you'd find them to be unpleasant." I suggest logically.

"Nah they've explained they are just kidding in those inapropriate songs. And even if they weren't, I wouldn't hold it against them. It's funny." She says, moving things around. She suddenly turns to me. "Have you ever listened to music on your spare time?" She asks.

"I don't have spare time. When I'm not working a deviant case I return to Cyberlife and enter low power mode until needed again." I answer. Her face falls.

"That's boring, but I guess you don't get bored, do you?"

"No." I answer simply. She seems bummed by my answer. "Is something bothering you, detective?" I question.

"I'm ok." She replies softly. I know she's lying, but I decide to ignore it and change the subject.

"I don't seem to know a lot about you, detective." I state.

"I prefer it that way. Not even Hank knows much about me and I've been working beside him for a few years." She explains, placing a few knick knacks in a box.

"How come?" I ask.

"It's better if you don't know anything more than the show I put on." She answers. I nod and look around her desk. It's very different from lieutenant Anderson's desk. She doesn't have any photos or awards around, her phone is placed face down on the far side of her desk so it's not in the way and she has small meaningless objects decorating around her terminal. No donuts, plants, or cold coffee.

"Would you like a coffee?" I offer. "You didn't take it the last time, but I don't mind getting you another." She sighs and looks at me.

"Connor, I didn't take it because I don't like coffee." She says as if it's obvious. "My drinks of choice are usually ice cold water or Dr.Pepper." I note that for another time. "Why are you even still here?" She snaps. She seems to have random mood swings. I wonder what the triggers might be?

"I am accompanying you while you reorganize your desk." I answer formally.

"Go away." She waves me off, moving the box onto the floor.

"Did I say something wrong, Detective?" I ask. I hope I didn't. It's never my intention but I seem to ruin moods often.

"If I say yes will you leave?" She counters.

"If that's what you want, then yes." I don't want to leave though.

Software instability^

"Then yes." She spits and tosses more things into that box.

"Goodnight detective." I say, turning and leaving. I don't want to go back to Cyberlife. I don't even know why I have these strange feelings, maybe it's some weird code? Maybe I've been infected? No, I self test everyday. I am fully functional. But still, what would it be like to feel things? Like temperature and pain? The light drizzle of rain patters on me as I exit the building. I could call a taxi, but that's pointless money spent. I don't get tired. The rain picks up. The walk is long and the rain is annoying as it drenches me. That's when I suddenly get a report of another murder, this time at the edens club. I call a taxi and order to detective Bowie's house. I should contact lieutenant Anderson, but I can only think about Emily. The drive will take a bit, so I use this time to browse music related to her taste in hopes of finding songs she enjoys.