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send in " you're an idiot. " for your muse to tend to my muse's wounds after a fight/battle, because this trope is too good okay it deserves a MEME!
send in " at least i've got you here to take care of me, right? " for my muse to tend to your muse's wounds after a fight/battle.
C O N N O Râ:
Connor considers her questions for a few moments, as though his favourite colour and hobbies would have world-shattering effects. And a few months ago, a few weeks even, they wouldâve been. âItâs⌠complicated. Itâs very, very beautiful, but painful at the same time. The hostage situation I told you about⌠I wasnât a deviant at the time, but the way I fell⌠Itâs almost painful to be up high. Balconies especially. Say what you will about Cyberlife, they certainly know how to code fear.â He simulates a swallowing motion (he doesnât actually have saliva or much of a throat) and continues, âBut my favourite colour is thirium blue, and Iâm quite good at flipping coins. You can say itâs strange. I know it is.â
He listens thoughtfully to her explanation of cloning (he does have some idea, and pulls up a search into cloning and the various ethical dilemmas around it while she talks â itâs certainly strange how afraid humans are of losing their humanness. In his mind, it was something innate, something that just was, that couldnât be taken away or added to. It wasnât as though he could stop being an android, and it doesnât bother him very much that there are almost certainly others out there with his face. Theyâre not the same after all.). âIâm wondering if people will advocate for separate human and android laws. I hope not. We want equality, and that means following the same laws. Although, I suppose there are some that donât exactly apply.â
Heâs about to answer when the doctor enters, and, formulating a plan, he makes himself rigid, robotic â a good little soldier. âOf course, Doctor. But you should be aware that, since we have significant reason to believe that the individual that attempted to kill Detective Duke is tied to the case and that it is possible someone else will make such an attempt, I have been assigned to guard her. I can give you the orders from my partner, Lieutenant Anderson, if you so wish. Although he isnât⌠a fan of doctors.â And, of course, he knows that Hank will back him up, no matter what. Thatâs always helpful.
"Very beautiful, and very painful." She nods. It's an adequate description. Succinct, but accurate, and not nearly as flowery or as long-winded as the way some poets and writers have described life. She studies him as he talks about his fear of heights, and itâs so very.... human, almost unnecessarily so. âI bet you could program that fear out,â she muses softly, âfear is a very human-y quirk. You guys donât really need that, do you?âÂ
âWhy those things?â she asks, leaning forward. âWhat do you like about Thirium blue? Why do you flip coins?â She blinks, realizing again that perhaps she was doing too much. But to her, the things that made people human-- erm, alive, were in the little details. The little preferences. She just wanted to know what Connorâs little preferences were. What set him apart from the other RK800 models.
Nancy shugs at his question of equal rights. âI honestly donât know how this will all shake out. A group that looks identical to us asking for basic human rights isnât exactly a new story.â She grimaces, âthough, that didnât exactly go well for them either....â
She canât help the smile the curls at the corner of her lips as she watches Connor talk to the Doctor. It was such an obvious change in disposition, that it made it hard not to giggle-- at least a little bit.Â
âItâs true, we were just discussing the interrogation of the person who shot me,â Nancy pipes up, backing Connorâs statement.Â
âI perfectly understand that there is an ongoing investigation, however as Miss Dukeâs Doctor, it is my primary goal to make sure she heals as quickly as possible.â he says pointedly, folding his arms in an austere manner. âThis door is the only point of entry in or out of the room, which means that you should be able to do your job of guarding her just fine from outside in the hallway. Iâll have one of the nurses bring you a chair.âÂ
The Doctor moves towards Nancy, checking over her vitals on the EKG screen. âIâm actually here to administer another dose of oxycodone, Miss Duke, so you will probably become quite sleepy once it kicks in anyways,â he explains, pulling out a syringe. Nancy watches the liquid be injected into her I.V., watches as it travels through the tube, doing a little loop-de-loop before entering through the needle in her veins. She can feel it, ever so slightly, the addition of new liquid being pumped into her. Itâs trippy, and she says so aloud.
C O N N O Râ:
Connor waves a hand at her (obviously a joke) suggestion of bribery, shaking his head. âDetective, if I got caught offering bribes, not only would I, personally, get in trouble, but it would be awful for androids as a whole.â
He nods at her questions. âYes. I⌠I hadnât meant to show you that photo. Sumo isnât in it, soâŚâ What can he say? What can he really say? Heâs never admitted this to anyone. âLieutenant Anderson⌠Hank⌠Heâs like a father to me. He helped me deviate, showed me that thereâs more to life than missions. HeâŚâ Connor pauses. âHe taught me how to care about people.â
Heâs silent for a few moments before nodding. â⌠It wasnât⌠not insensitive. Thinking of robots⌠machines⌠ones without the capacity for sentience⌠I donât know. Itâs uncomfortable. Iâm not exactly sure how to describe it. Is it an experience that humans can even have? Iâm not sure.â He rubs his forehead, a little embarrassed about all this philosophy. âBut that might be a little too deep for what weâre supposed to be working on.â
He straightens up, pushing all those memories back, putting them into neat little boxes to collect dust in his circuits. Everything is in boxes, in the garden, as though its in the midst of being packed away. As though the owners are moving. He supposes theyâve already moved out. She isnât there anymore. And heâs not going to talk to Nancy about her. He wonât tell anyone that. âYes. Just a confirmation of the orders I sent out. And⌠some information about the interrogation. I didnât want to interrupt you.â
Nancy gives a theatrical sigh and shakes her head. "That's a pity for you and me then, isn't it?" She says, throwing in a cheeky wink.
Nancy nods along as she listens. Itâs honestly all quite fascinating-- the different things that caused androids to deviate, the little and big things that made up life and the universal appreciation all living things seemed to have for them. It was oddly unifying. And in a way, it was rather obvious that of course androids would deviate and want free will, they had created them to be as similar to humans as possible. âSo what do you make of life so far?â She asks, genuinely interested in what heâd have to say. âDo you have, like, a favorite color? Any hobbies?â
âIt... definitely brings up an interesting ethical question,â she muses, âI donât think there is a perfect human equivalent. The only thing coming to mind is cloning. Back in the 90â˛s there were these scientists who were able to fully clone a goat from a single cell, and it was this huge scientific advancement at the time. But it brought up ethical problems as well. People were worried that itâd blur the line of human identity-- where do we draw the line in scientific advancements and so on. It was ultimately outlawed by the UN-- though it seems weâve stumbled into the same philosophical dilemma anyways, just with androids instead of clones.â She frowns, trying her best to think through her words before she spoke. âBut now androids have deviated, you have to grasp your own perception of self and relation to humans, but also machines-- which is an interesting dichotomy. Humans only have animals to relate to, which is why there are lots of laws in place to protect animals and prevent animal cruelty.â She shakes her head, shrugging off the philosophical inquiries like one shrugging off a heavy coat. âI donât know,â she says, deflecting in preparation-- just in case sheâs misstepped again. Nancy didnât often partake in ethical discussions, and felt a little silly talking and sharing her perspective. It was dumb. Whatever she had to say was dumb-- people shouldnât listen to her.Â
The update on the interrogation piques her interest. âOh-- whatâd they have to say?â
Itâs then that her doctor walks in, still toucan-faced, but now with a steely glint in his eye. âMiss Duke,â he begins sternly, âwhy have I just seen security footage of you walking about the hospital lobby one day after massive invasive surgery?â
âOh that doesnât sound like me,â Nancy says flippantly, taking a dainty sip of her water, âyou must have me confused with another redhead-- I get it though. We all look rather similar.â She gives her cutest smile, but the doctor remains unimpressed.Â
Sighing, he pinches at his brow as he turns to Connor. âDetective, I understand that you have an ongoing investigation to work on, but unless this conversation is absolutely necessary I would appreciate if you left Miss Duke alone so that she may focus on resting up. Another steely glare is shot in her direction that Nancy pretends not to see. âAn act that seems to be quite difficult for her.â
C O N N O Râ:
âOh, I see. The way you were talking about it, I thought it was based solely on looks, and you are, without a doubt, quite attractive.â Connor smiles, raising an eyebrow, purposefully, trying to tease her. âWell, for a human, of course.â He takes a seat again, only a little distracted when some information from the station rushes into his HUD. Just a few hard blinks when it arrives. âIâm not sure you are crazy.â
His smile can only widen when she asks about Sumo, and he takes out his phone â basically useless when his own brain is a computer, but itâs useful for when he needs to show people pictures (especially of Sumo). Thereâs one of himself and Sumo, one of himself and Hank and Sumo, one of Sumo alone, and then one of just him and Hank. Ah. Heâs swiped too far.
He hopes she doesnât notice the blue tinge across his cheeks and nose as she talks about her desk droid. Itâs a little difficult not to feel as though sheâs comparing him and it, but⌠he trusts that she isnât. Still, itâs not extremely comfortable. âYouâre lucky those sorts of droids canât deviate, or youâd have a miniature uprising on your hands.â He shakes his head goodnaturedly at her question, giving her an âOh, youâ sort of look. âDonât put so little faith in my human coworkers, Detective Duke. We may be stronger, smarter, and faster, but you have your moments of brilliance. Occasionally.â
And then, of course, she wants to know about the hostage situation. His smile vanishes, and he can feel the tendrils of fear surging up, grasping his body, threatening to pull him down, make him fall. âThere was a deviant â a household android â whoâd taken a child hostage. Everything was going fine, but⌠something happened. He had a gun, he was standing on the edge of the balcony⌠I saved the girl, but I had to tackle him, to make sure-â He cuts himself off, hands tightly balled into fists in his lap. He couldnât make eye contact if he tried. âAnd thatâs it.â
Nancy squints at him, raising one eyebrow. âI see what youâre doing here,â she says, eyeing him and his compliment with equal suspicion, âIâll have you know I refuse to be won over by flattery. I only take bribes.â
Sumo ended up being a very big, very handsome boy. âOh my gosh!â She cooes, gushing over the pictures of of a large, fluffy dog between Connor, and an older man with grey hair, and a scruffy looking face. âIâm guessing Mr. Tall Dark and Grumpy here is your partner? Anderson?â She asks, looking at the last picture of just him and Hank. âYou two really are quite close, huh?â
Surprisingly, the color on Connorâs cheeks does not go unnoticed. Forethought has never been a quality she possessed, but hindsight told her easily enough that maaaaaybe talking about her pet robot to a recently liberated android wasnât the smartest move.Â
She blurts out: â--Sorry, was that insensitive? Please tell me if that was insensitive.â Her eyes are wide with genuine ernest. âIâve never been good at thinking before speaking. Growing up, my dad always used to tell me that I had a broken filter, because I always would blurt out whatever is on my mind-- even if itâs a little rude. So just-- yâknow, let me know.â She says, waving her hands around in a âIâm sorry Iâm dumb, please donât hate me for it!â kind of way.
She wants to reach out and maybe touch him when she sees his physical reaction to retelling the memory. But comforting had never really been Nancyâs thing, whether giving, or receiving. So instead she folded her arms across her chest, and listens quietly. She hadnât meant to broach such a sensitive topic. She wonders on how he must look back on his days when he used to hunt deviant androids. âOh...â she isnât sure what to say.Â
So she decides to switch topics entirely. âEarlier-- did you receive, like, a text or something?â

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C O N N O Râ:
Connor laughs, a quick sound of surprise. âWell, Iâll ask you to tell Lieutenant Anderson that yourself. I think if I told him that Iâm, in actuality, very pretty, I think heâd just believe Iâm incredibly narcissistic.â He tilts his head, curious about what sheâs saying. âWell, I suppose you know about this⌠Halo effect from experience, Detective Duke? If thatâs not too unprofessional for me to say, of course.â
He leans forward and turns his head from side to side so she can get a proper look. âA golden retriever, hmm? I suppose that fits. I like dogs. I take care of Lieutenant Andersonâs dog often. His nameâs Sumo, although heâs a Saint Bernard.â
âPerhaps Iâve been studying too many movies. Itâs certainly a possibility.â Heâs actually starting to really care for her, not that heâd admit it. No, heâd just say that she was an important part of the case, that it was simply more difficult to complete it without her. Although, that would be cruel. Humans didnât respond to that kind of language very well.
âThey should be doing that soon. You know, Iâm typically their best interrogator. I was built to be good at communication. I can analyse stress levels in order to defuse or intensify a situation, if I need answers or if Iâm negotiating in a hostage situation.â He blinks, a little surprised heâs admitting all this. What is it about this thatâs loosening his lips? âMy first memory is of a hostage situation.â
Nancy scoffs, shaking her head as she took a sip of her water. "Thatâs very sweet of you to say, but I am too self-aware to know that I don't really benefit from the Halo Effect. My personality is a bit too abrasive... turns most people away.â She gives a simple shrug, making it unclear whether she had any deeper thoughts on the matter or not. âHot but crazy is still crazy.â
The corner of her eyes crinkle as she sits back, enjoying Connorâs company and listening talk about his partnerâs dog. âYou seem like a dog person,â she says, âdo you have any pictures of Sumo? I love big dogs.â
âIâve got this little desk droid back home--â she offers, getting more and more comfortable talking with Connor now-- maybe it helped that they werenât talking about homicides or cannibals now, but still. âTheyâre technically kids toys, no bigger than maybe the palm of me hand,â she holds her hands up, showing Connor just how small they are, âand just glorified cubes with little LED lights and wheels. All theyâre supposed to do is keep you company. They use one of the earlier AI iterations, the idea being the longer you keeps them turned on, and the more you interact with them, the more of a personality they develop, until theyâre their own unique little being. But mineâs got quite the attitude now, my desk at the precinct actually belongs to him, I just borrow it to get work done. His name is Excel.â
âSo youâre telling me Iâm getting only the second best interrogator to question the person who tried to murder me the other day?â She asks quizzically, accented with a little quirk of her eyebrow. Itâs all in jest though, as evident by the gleam in her eyes. Â
âMy first memory is running in my backyard when I was about four. I fell down face first and somehow got a rock imbedded in my face-- I think you can still see the scar...â Nancy frowns, reaching a hand up to her forehead, âit was somewhere around here, I think.â She says, touching her fingertips to her hairline just above her eyebrow. âI remember sitting there and crying, and my older brother Ben just watched until my mom came out and brought me inside.â She shrugs, âpersonally I think the interrogation is a cooler first memory. What was it about?â
:â)
J A M E Yâ:
âIt looks like most Seattleâs, to me.â
Jameson fixed the bear mask over his face, taking in a deep breath or two, to make sure he could. The breathing was easy, and it warmed his nose.
With her questions, Nancy seemed to be venturing out of her usual range of emotions: strong, punchy, manic, and something about the 90â˛s top forty list. He tried to encourage it by answering as best he could. âYou ever heard of Toby Stephens? Maggie Smithâs son?â Jameson ventured, then quickly waved the thought away. âProbably not. If your universe has a Jim Duke, it probably skipped Toby Stephens.â
âWe had a little Bond moment.âÂ
Jameson recreated the conversation, mimicking Mr. Dukeâs gruff voice.
âHe said, Can I borrow a match?â
âThen I said, I use a lighter. He said, Better still. I said, Until they go wrong.â Jameson scratched his head, unsure of the finer details of the conversation. He had experienced many versions of it. He could only cross his fingers that he was telling the right story. âHe seemed pretty happy about that, until he followed up. He asked me a question that sounded like code, something about weeds in the garden, and I had no clue what to say.â
âI told him about the day you went missing, about what you were wearing, about Dairy QueenâŚâ
âThatâs probably why that cop car is tailing us.â
Jameson waved pleasantly again.
âBut Iâd rather be in their custody than your dadâs.â
He almost forgot the question of her mother. It slipped his mind, having seen so many realities without her. âI donât remember if your mom was there,â he said, honestly, âin most of the universes, I only saw an old black and white picture of her, on the wall.â
âI talked to her at least once or twice, though,â he said. He would have to flip a coin to guess whether his words were helpful or hurtful. âShe was a nice lady. She bought me something called a Cronut. Iâm still not entirely sure what it is.â
âIf you asked, Iâm sure sheâd buy you one too.â
Nancy watched him talk, her expression blank. âI feel like now is a bad time to tell you Iâve never seen any James Bond movies,â she said, scratching her head. Most of what he said was lost on her, but she appreciated the humor, at the very least.Â
âUhm! Anyways,â she clapped her hands, trying to take everything in and not freak out, âso it sounds like my dad might had thought that you were the one who abducted me.... thatâll take some explaining so that you donât get skewered by four marines...â
She knew what picture Jameson was talking about. It was the only picture that dad had allowed to keep up in their house. Instead of taking regular engagement photos, Jim and Yellow Duke had gone to one of those county fairs where you can find booths that let you dress up in old western clothes and take old-timey style photos. The only picture Nancy every really saw of her mother after she died, was the one of her in a corset with her hair piled high atop her head, her foot planted on a chair, and showing off her stockings and garters.Â
She really liked that picture.Â
âYou got to talk to her?â Nancyâs head whipped around, her eyes widening. She supposed there had to be realities where her mother was never shot-- Nancy wondered if Jamey would take her to one of those dimensions instead. But then.... she couldnât shake the feeling that sheâd be abandoning her original family. They would never know what happened to her.Â
But on the other hand there are also probably other dimensions where that happens anyways... Ugh, this multiple reality thing was really starting to mess with her head. How was she supposed to conceptualize anything anymore?
She gave a small laugh at his cronut comment. âYeah, she sounded pretty friendly in all the stories Iâve heard about-- bit eccentric, though....â
âWell, I guess thereâs nothing left but to go home.â The words sounded funny leaving her mouth, even though she had never really given up on the idea of going home, a small part of her thought it would just never happen. âTime to face the music and dance.â
K E K I P Iâ:
âYour scent,â the Loboan casually hummed after telling the bartender what she wanted and then watched him go fix it. A Loboanâs sense of smell was like that of a typical canine, picking up things a human couldnât. She then turned her head, her hand rested on the biomask. âThat, and your body language,â she mused as long, black claw like nails tapped on the metal face of the mask as she examined her target before her. Oh yea, she fit the description just as the puck enlisted.
âIâm here for a little bit of both,â she finally answered her question as to why she was there at the bar, giving a nod to the bartender, thanking him quietly for the drink before lifting the class up to her lips. âMy job is always a pleasure for people like me,â she chuckled, taking a sip of the liquor and then setting the glass back down with a quiet growl from the burn doing down her throat.
âLooking for someone,â she began as she pulled out the puck to allow the hologram of Nancy to appear for her to see. âSeen someone who looks like her?â she gave her a fanged grin.
This wasnât Nancyâs first rodeo with a bounty hunter-- though maybe the Loboan is a first. Nancy leans over, examining the holopuck. "Nope!" She says, popping the p on 'nope'. âBut I get the confusion, all redheads look the same, right?â She jokes.
Downing the last of her whiskey, she hops out of her seat, turning to look her the bounty hunter. âBut if you want, I can help you find her outside,â she suggests, jerking her head in the direction of the door âIâve been kicked out of enough bars, I canât really afford to lose this one too.â
Outside, Nancy does a quick scan of the area, but there was nobody around. Perfect. Her mind had already been racing ahead, playing out all the likely scenarios as she whirls around, pulling out her blaster from itâs holster and aiming it at the Loboan.
âListe, I know youâre just trying to do your job, but I would really appreciate it if you could just let me do my job.â Sheâd start off with reasoning, first. And if that didnât work, well, the a really spectacular fight was about to go down.

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Idiots to lovers implies that they stop being idiots when they finally get together, but that is just not true, they will always be idiots
Idiots (pining) to idiots (dating)
idiot to usdiot
C O N N O Râ:
âI suppose thatâs the difference between humans and androids â as we are your⌠creations, and recent creations at that, we donât reallyâŚexperience pleasure in the same way. We donât have dopamine, for example. Besides, it took humans a very long time to make food for pleasure, as far as I can tell. Iâve done a little research into this.â He raises an eyebrow on the word attractive. The âlives foreverâ comment isnât entirely accurate either, but how could she know that? âActually, the likelihood of me living forever is very unlikely. I was built to be a prototype, so⌠chances are Iâll break down about the same time Hank does. But Iâm glad you think Iâm attractive. The usual comment is âgoofy lookingâ.â At the mention of wings and flying, whatever makes him afraid of heights makes his hand clench tightly around the hospital sheets, though with a simulated breath, he forces himself to relax, smoothing it out.
Damn it. That, she definitely noticed. He can only hope the case is absorbing most, if not all, of her attention. In any case, heâs collating a few images and definitions and articles that help him understand all the meaning behind the human hearts. Thirium pumps donât really convey the same emotion, the same spirituality. Theyâre metal and tubing made for a simple task. Perhaps human hearts are essentially the same thing, just with flesh, but, he notes, theyâve always been good at attaching meaning to things. Maybe that was why he couldnât kill Chloe.
âIâve added those specifications to my orders.â He tilts his head at her huff, confused. He had just been getting up to get her a glass of water. âIâm not leaving, you know. I already sent our notes to the station. Another benefit of being connected to the internet, I suppose.â
âIâm⌠worried that the killer might try to find you. To finish what Fisher started.â
"Whoever called you goofy looking needs to get their eyes checked," Nancy snorts, "riddle me this: why would CyberLife spend thousands of dollars to make a goofy looking android.â She gives a shrug, âI mean, pretty privilege is real-- itâs called the âHalo Effectâ, you can look it up. Humans naturally attribute commercially attractive people as being kinder, smarter, nicer-- it wouldnât be a logical move to make a âgoofy-looking android.â Â
She turns then, appraising his features with a critical eye. âThey chose well-- you have a very, hm, what would be a good word.... approachable face.â She nods, seemings satisfied with her word choice, âyou have âgolden retrieverâ vibes-- which are the best vibes to give off.âÂ
Itâs only after saying all this, that Nancy realizes that this could be considered offensive-- but she doesnât entirely know how to fix it if she accidentally hurt Connorâs feelings. âI like your face regardless of whether some goon back at CyberLife chose it though.â She tacks on quickly.
Her face heats up at his address, embarrassed that she had allowed her emotions to be displayed to openly-- or perhaps, she wasnât giving his powers of perception the acknowledgement they deserved.
âOh,â she says, watching him cross the room to pour a glass of water, âI kind of thought you were-- seeing as you told me to focus on resting up.â She doesnât really know what to make of his concern for her. The thought about someone stopping my her room to finish her off had certainly crossed her mind. Hell, she couldnât even make it 24-hours in Detroit without someone coming after her. But the thought didnât bring about fear-- she was too traumatized to feel any fear about the idea of dying anymore... but she was, perhaps, a bit morbidly curious to see who would finally achieve at doing her in-- seeing as she was turning into a bit of an elusive catch.Â
âThat reminds me, have they interviewed who shot me yet?â She asks casually, taking the glass from Connor with a quick âthanksâ. She knew serial killer fan groups werenât uncommon-- she could recall several years ago when a group of fanatics tried to buy Jeffrey Dahmerâs home-- but how so many people could sympathize with a cold-blooded killer, and even turn him into a martyr was beyond her. As a survivor, she even found it a little offensive. Well, Nancy, one of them did just try to shoot you.
C O N N O Râ:
A stickler? No, Connor wouldnât call himself that, after all heâs broken more than a few rules in his time including his own programming. The sneaking out and the probable stealing didnât bother him, and heâs glad at least that she had the wherewithal not to take the IV drip out of her arm, he just⌠well, heâd worked hard to keep her alive, to have her up and walking about less than two days after⌠itâs a minor annoyance.
But he turns his attention to her thoughts and questions about food. âI suppose I can enjoy it vicariously. Iâve watched Hank eat burgers, and because heâs happy, Iâm happy.â Thirium, though⌠It isnât a food. Itâs, effectively, blood. He doesnât consume it regularly, only when heâs been badly injured and needs his supply replenished. Does it have a taste? Not in the way heâs observed from human descriptions. He knows the chemical makeup and what store it was purchased from the moment it touches his tongue. âItâs not really meant to be enjoyed. Itâs more like⌠if you had blood transfusions by having a glass of O negative. Itâs part of my recovery process, not for enjoyment.â
Connor watches her write, copying the notes into his mind. âYes, it seems despite being a fan of Fisher, our killer doesnât have the appetite for chewing bones that he did. Thereâs also the potential that they could be a bus driver on the school route.â He pulls up a map detailing the victimsâ residences overlaid on a route map of the buses in the area. One comes close enough to all of them that itâs completely possible. And, Connor knows, investigating every possibility is of the utmost importance. âThat also explains the varying ages and the mixed genders. They wouldnât get to choose, necessarily, their victims. Fisher had closer contact, which would be why his victims were from a specific subset.â
It feels strange to him too, knowing that this was what she went through. It must be painful for her to be so deeply invested in this. Revisiting memories⌠horrible ones⌠Itâs enough to make him shiver, and he hopes sheâs too invested in the case to notice. Itâs silly. He should be better than this. His mind should be sharp and focused, not thinking about his own problems.
âIâll send some orders out. And you can focus on getting better.â
âWell, I mean, you can argue that food is just a necessity-- it doesnât have to be for enjoyment, but humans prefer to make the things we have to do enjoyable,â she gives an idle shrug. Nancy pictures Connor drinking a glass of blood and wrinkles her nose, âyou guys are like vampire robots-- or, at the very least, you are. Superhuman strength, lives forever, attractive, drinks blood--â Nancy says, ticking each attribute off on her fingers, âreally the only thing youâre missing is the ability to turn into a bat. So personally, I would reach out to CyberLife and see if you can get bat wings installed-- because that would be super cool.â
Nancy nods emphatically at Connorâs hypothesis, "yes-- a bus driver would fit all the requirements. They'd have access to all their victims without drawing any suspicion. That was my second thought..."
Nancy chews on her bottom lip, her mind still stuck on the hearts. It was such a symbolically loaded gesture that it had to mean something. But.... what? There was no obvious correlation between all the victims, like Connor said. Fisher always said he consumed his victims to absorb their souls-- but to be honest it was a thinly-veiled ruse to cover his cannibalistic pedofile fetish, than any kind of religious, or ritualistic fantasy.Â
A heart though... a heart could definitely be a symbol for consuming a victimâs soul.Â
âWhoever they are, theyâve been in this position for a while-- know the rout, is probably trusted by the locals if theyâre able to take these kids so easily,â Nancy muses, trying to draw up the kind of person whoâd be able to get away with something like this without drawing suspicion. âSo we can rule out anyone who hasnât been working there for at least a few years...âÂ
Nancy huffs as Connor gets up to leave, pouting a little. Itâs not like she knew anyone else in the city-- and sitting in a hospital room alone all day was so boring! But she knew she couldnât ask him to stay and keep her company; he had work to do. And besides, her pride wouldnât let her ask a question like that anyways.Â
âYeah, alright, keep me updated if you get any leads on the bus driver angle.â
Not-So Grand Encounters¡
P E T E R¡:
               THE PLASTIC I.D. CARD IN HIS HAND displayed the picture of Nancy Duke. She was very pretty! Aside from that he only knew that she was new, they didnât tell her where she transferred from only that she transferred. That information would have been nice but Peter figured it would make a good conversation starter? The boy spotter her in the front of the school and he waved but she had kicked a can at a passerby. His brows pulled together when she was yelled out but she apologized and the situation was resolved, he relaxed. What was he going to do anyway? Spider-Man couldnât exactly swoop in before class. Everyone would freak out!
â Nancy? Hey, Iâm Peterâ â
His lips pressed tightly together when her reaction to his hand on her shoulder wasnât friendly. Immediately he could tell by the way she shifted her weight and the way she turned, not to greet him but rather tense and firm. It would have been easy for him to step to the side, plant his feet so she couldnât move him or even land on his feet when she did. All those options were out of the question. There were too many people around, too many people would notice something like that.
With a slow breath, Peter closed his eyes and allowed himself to get completely floored.
The boy winced and â YUP! That was the 800 page chemistry book in his spine.
Laughter filled his ears and he even heard the shutter of a few cameras and Peter sighed wondering who even had the shutter volume on on their phone anyway?
From his place on the floor he handed Nancy her I.D., â Iâm Peter ⌠Parker ⌠Iâm your ⌠Iâm your School Buddy â
The public ridicule is nearly instantaneous. The laughter, the camera shutters, the way the people (her school peers she supposes, now) crowded around the two in a little semi-circle. It was like something out of a teen movie.Â
She feel the shame burn up her neck, coloring her face to match her hair.Â
âOh my god,â she gasps, staring in shock at the boy on the ground. âOh my god, I am so sorry!â Sheâs quick to hoist him up, brushing dirt of his jacket. âIâm so sorry, I donât know what got into me. I am so sorry.â Tears burn at the corners of her eyes, but she blinks them away. No need to further the embarrassment by crying in front of a bunch of people.
She takes the school I.D card from Peter, thumbing the rounded edges, unable to make eye contact with her school buddy. How was she supposed to befriend him now? She just threw him on the ground!
âUh-- hi,â she breathes out, âIâm.... hugely embarrassed.â She gives an awkward laugh, trying to break some of the tension. âI swear I donât usually go around throwing people on the ground,â she jokes. âYou can throw me on the ground, if you feel that would make it fair.â Then, realizing what that sounds like, she winced. âI mean-- not like--- ugh,â she backpedals, before resigning and burying her face in her hands.Â
âIâm going to go, um, pass away now,â she pauses for a moment, thinking things over before nodding-- coming to the conclusion that dying was the best course of action. âYeah, I think Iâll go do that. Right now.â

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thereâs nothing wrong with learning about characters by writing them
thereâs nothing wrong with writing characters out of character
thereâs nothing wrong with changing your mind about a headcanon
thereâs nothing wrong with headcanoning something thatâs unpopular
thereâs nothing wrong with changing characterization from one fic to another fic
You can tell a lot about someone by their music.
Put your favorite playlist or music player on shuffle and list the first 10 songs then tag up to ten people! No skipping! (or maybe some skipping. Iâm not your dad, do what feels right)
Baby, I Love Your Way - Big Mountain
Unstoppable - Lianne La Havas
Guilty - George Shearing
Send Me On My Way - Rusted Roots
Cigarette Ahegao - Penelope Scott
San Francisco - The Mowgliâs
The Joker - Steve Miller Band
Should I Stay or Should I Go - The Clash
Ghost - Lianne La Havas
Obsessions - Marina and the diamonds
Bonus: Young, Wild & Free - Snoop Dogg
Now for Nancy, because she has her own playlist: Nancyâs Ass Kicking Playlist
Cold Cold Man - Saint Motel
Waking Up In Vegas - Katy Perry
Like a Girl - Lizzo
Baba OâRiley - The Who
People Are Strange - The Doors
Jessieâs Girl - Rick Springfield
Supersonic - J.J. Fad
(Youâre The Devil) In Disguise - Elvis Presley
Like Itself - Glass Animals
Waterfall - TLC
Bonus: Babooshka - Kate Bush
tagged by: @daddypooltm
tagging: i donât know 10 people, so I guess whoever wants to do it