ALIVE [Connor]

[18] Oblivion

November 6th. 2038.

AM 10:50:48

"-...So shut the fuck up and do as I say."

The muffled voice of Hank floating in from outside made Isla's toothy smile falter as she thanked the motel's proprietor for his time and patience in answering several essential questions for the case. Polite she may have seemed, but as soon as she had turned her back and headed on out to join the two partners, her exclamation made several officers blink over in her general direction.

"What the bloody hell is going on?" She piped up almost coldly, brown eyes shooting between the equally rain-soaked duo of the lieutenant and the android. "You step outside, without me, for the best part of eight seconds and you're already having a domestic!"

"All I want is to accomplish my mission," Connor clarified in a calm manner, "I'm sorry if that upsets Lt Anderson." He wasn't wrong, Hank had never conjured up such a darker scowl than right at that very moment. 

"You wanna see the end of your mission?" Hank quipped, the weariness of his demeanour overcoming the nastiness of his comment.

"Hank-" Isla tried to intervene, but to no avail.

"-Stop busting my fucking balls." And with that, the lieutenant stalked off for the designated 'Room 28', the last known location of the deviant involved in the case. Isla and Connor stood side by side, watching after Hank for a couple of seconds, much like the rest of the police and forensic personnel still standing around.

Isla craned to look over her shoulder, hell-bent on redeeming Hank's sudden outbursts.

"Don't you all have orifices to be swabbing?" She questioned in a rather strident voice, to which the team dispersed immediately and continued about their own business - Reed included. Tongue-in-cheek, he had winked her way, forcing her to resist the urge to throw up all over the motel's welcome mat.

Connor was still gazing after Hank and as Isla glanced back to notice this, she gave his arm a reassuring nudge. "Oh, ignore him," She sighed tremendously, "I usually do."

"Do you know the exact cause as to why he dislikes androids so much?" Connor squinted through the rain, observing the way Hank had taken the steps up to the series of motel rooms with some struggle. Following dozens of complaints on the car-ride to the scene, Hank's headache was still hammering on. Not that it would ever prevent him from pouring himself a scotch later on that day.

"Other than the fact that they're idealistically designed to be better than humans at quite literally everything, and still look sickeningly good-looking whilst they're doing it?" Isla shrugged playfully, folding her arms and peering over at him, "Haven't the faintest."

Lies worked better when they were laced into a joke, for it was not Isla's place to say exactly the root cause of Hank's dislike to androids as a whole.

"Is that...really a reason? Are humans threatened by those things?"

"Only partly. Well, speaking for myself, that is," She produced a grin, "Some people might argue that you androids are just too pretty."

"You find me 'sickeningly good-looking'?"

"Your artificial intelligence has no idea."

"I don't...think I understand."

"Really?" Isla blinked in mild surprise, "Look at you!" She exclaimed dramatically, "And better yet, look at me!"

Isla shifted to stand in front of him, outstretching her arms and erratically gesturing down at her dishevelled self, as a way of emphasising her point. Connor was certainly looking at her, splattered in rain with her hat tugged at a jaunty angle. Whatever negative connotations she was trying to construe about her appearance went amiss. From Connor's point of view, there was nothing wrong with her. Nothing at all. Short height and cheek dimples made for a sight to behold.