#upgrcded

@upgrcded​  ↳ ' Mr Stark, I'm RK900 of the Connor Series, and I'm the Android sent by Cyberlife. '

"Ah finally!" To say that he wasn't excited to give a look to their android would've been a lie. Anthony jumped from the leather chair and quickly approached to it with the same smile he had that one christmas morning that his parents were actually home.

"Look at you..." He walked around him slowly, taking in the details. "What a beautiful job." He stopped before him, the hair was one of his favorite things about the android.

❝   Tell me, do we get what we deserve?   ❞  A rare reflective moment for the man, a question directed at the android present for the sole reason that it was the only one there. In the late hour when most had gone home save for security. Perhaps he should have returned home long ago himself but given the state of TURMOIL the company was still in after the revolution, he spent more time within the tower rather than at home. There were still tremors in the aftermath to deal with, things to take care of and some things he certainly didn’t trust others to handle. There was still the firm belief it had been the faults of OTHERS that had led them into such a state.

And in the late hours, he actually found himself contemplating the paths taken to lead them down such a road. A road where there was ever building pressure as more of the public believed androids to be truly SENTIENT. Perhaps some of the mistakes had been his; the man certainly had a trove of FAILURES. A failed marriage, a failure to become CEO in the timeline he had planned, a failure on his own AI years ago now. And the successes were hardly the CLEANEST ones.

   ❝ I can explain. ❞   He can’t, he really can’t, because there was no concealable reason why Elijah should be chained to the wall of someones basement that now has the RK900 in it. Actually, he’s never properly met the RK900, which made this far more interesting as to how he got put in here. Or rather thrown in here with Elijah. The inventor attempts to lean forward, the chains digging uncomfortably into him as he tries. He’s not looking well, he has no idea how long he’s been here, bleeding and bruised with broken bones. It’s funny, the longer he sat here the more he realized no one would noticed he was missing. 

   Elijah lived alone, worked alone, never went in public, his Androids left him. The RK900 from what he remembered worked at the DPD now, that meant ironically despite being technically less than Elijah (status wise) he’d be noticed missing sooner than the billionaire. It’s--information he either doesn’t want to process or can’t with the amount of blood-loss he’s suffered from. So he ignores it. 

@upgrcded​ “So you’re a man who has everything… and nothing.“

   When you had money, people wanted it. That was one of the words simplest understandings. It was one of the first lessons he learned. But, Elijah had known for the longest time that people were horrible. It was just everything all together that made him isolate himself. And now everyone assumed that there was some deeper reason for the self imposed isolation, in his desire to avoid other people--but there wasn’t. Elijah hated humanity and he had a horrible level of social anxiety. He liked things as they were, even if begrudgingly he knew he was lonely and he craved intimacy like everyone else.

Troubling– that’s one way to put it. Frustrating might be the better word, in Hank’s personal opinion, but he imagines he gets frustrated much more easily than the machine next to him. He doesn’t move; there’s no need to investigate the mess before them. After all, they watched the fight break out. Some stupid perp thinking he could make a run for it in the middle of a police station. He didn’t get far, of course.

The entirety of the coffee ( coffee maker and creamer included ) however, landed extremely far from where it should have been. Like on the counter. Instead, it’s spilled all over the small break room floor. Useless.

A short sight leaves Hank’s lips and he finally turns to the RK900. “Well, I’m not getting any coffee here. Wanna take a walk? I’m gettin’ tired of the office, anyway.”

Send a word for your muse to find my muse in a certain state  // @upgrcded

Oh, he had seen it coming from a mile out. As deviancy had begun to rise, he had known it was only a matter of time before one of them got tired of the talking with the company and would turn to a more physical and VIOLENT response. It was what the company had warned about since the public first became aware of androids becoming sentient. They had a tendency towards violence. So when one had dragged him into an alley in the dead of night (how cliche!), there was hardly any SURPRISE by the sudden assault. But androids could be quite dangerous, even DEADLY when turning on a human. Plastic and metal were far more durable than flesh and bone.

Abandoned there, collapsed in the dark on the filthy stone, Damon was sure for a moment he might just be left there to DIE. His body in a state of shock and refusing to move from its spot. Even BREATHING brought a wave of pain and his cries of agony had not seemingly drawn the attention of anyone. Crimson blood coating his face, he couldn’t be sure of the injuries sustained but there was a MULTITUDE. Fractured if not broken bones, perhaps even in his skull from a particular NASTY stomp while he had been on the ground.

It seemed like ages before he heard footsteps nearing and that familiar glow of a triangle swam into his line of sight. Had someone been alerted and he was merely the first to arrive before police? Or was it sheer LUCK it was in the area at all?  Lips parted though, at first, nothing came out. Like something was BROKEN between his scrambled thoughts and his will to speak. But, finally, he managed though his speech was considerably broken.  ❝   An——— android. Didn’t see——— see its face.  ❞  He wasn’t capable of IDENTIFYING it whereas he normally could just from a glance. The pros of working with androids for a living though a con was certainly the situation he had found himself in.