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ratofthemedievalsewers · 3 years

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Heart of Steel - Part I

DBH Connor x Male Reader

Word Count: 2.5K+

Content warning: Minor injury detail, PTSD, language

Original game dialogue I got from this video:

https://youtu.be/32Np9LKI1Vg

We were attacked in the night.

After returning from a mission back to an outpost several miles from the red zone, we removed our gear save for a few pouches on our belts we could bother with later. Our team leader set up a fire while the SQ800s, CyberLife commissioned combat androids, began loading up the trucks with extra artillery and resources. A job that could have waited until morning, but Alpha always gave the androids something to do. He said that they creeped him out when they would just stand there in a dormant state, waiting for their next mission to be given to them.

"You know what I'm going to do when I get home?"

"Here we go again."

"I'm going to get me a WR400," Foxtrot; not everyone's favourite but he certainly kept us entertained when there was nothing to do.

"Uh-huh and with what money are you going to be using to pay for this WR400? A military salary definitely ain't gonna cut it." Echo always called out Foxtrot's bullshit, he was the only one that had the patience to deal with him.

"Fine, my birthday is comin' up, if you put towards two-thirds of what it costs we can share. How does that sound?"

"I am not sharing anything with you, I don't know what diseases you carry." Their constant back forth sent chuckles through the group.

"Alright, that's enough you two. It's getting late and past everyone's bedtime, I want you all awake by O-five-hundred at the latest," Alpha would often stop them before Foxtrot would take it too far, but he could never hide the twitching smile on his face.

"Yes sir," Foxtrot mock saluted as he stood from his seat around the campfire. "Hey Echo, that offer is still-"

One moment Foxtrot had a wide grin on his face, the next there was a hole in his head between his eyes, the sound of gunshot ringing in everyone's ears.

"SHOTS FIRED! GET TO COVER NOW!"

"FOXTROT IS DOWN! I REPEAT, FOXTROT IS DOWN!"

It was dark, we couldn't see where they were firing from. The android was the only one still standing, firing off in random directions as they were gunned down. The next was Delta, shot in the left shoulder, then the throat. My gun was back in my tent and there was no chance of me getting it. Stupid.

"MEDIC! GET TO DELTA! NOW!"

"GRENADE!"

I heard the thump by my feet before I saw it. You would think it would be terrifying, to know you're staring death in the face, but for a second it was peaceful. My body was cold and I already felt like a corpse, the Rigour Mortis freezing me in place, just softly gazing at what would kill me.

Something grabbed me before the grenade exploded, saving my life but destroying the android.

The bedsheets were crumpled and soaked in sweat again when my eyes shot open. It was hard to breathe, the panic was still running through me and closing up my throat at the memory.

In; one, two, three, four. Hold; one, two, three, four. Out; one, two, three, four. Hold; one, two, three, four.

It took a few minutes for me to remember where I was. That I was home and that I was safe. Out of nervous habit, I gripped my dog tags, they were wet from the sweat that had soaked through my shirt in the night.

"Shit." It was four in the morning, there was no chance of getting any more sleep and the station wouldn't be open for another two more hours at the least. Saying that; Fowler wanted to speak to me first thing, which never meant anything good for anyone.

It was aching again at the joint. The biomechanical component always felt itchy where it joined at the elbow. Anytime I would have that dream I would scratch at it in my sleep, it was like my subconscious knew it didn't belong. It knew my rotting left arm was still in the desert somewhere being picked apart by vultures.

It's almost ironic; to be saved by an android and then to have part of one attached to me. I hated it.

*****

"Morning Cyborg, you look like shit." Gavin was forever pleasant to talk to.

"Fuck off, Reed." He constantly hovered around the coffee machine, hogging it like it was his newborn baby. "Is Fowler in yet?"

"Not yet, you in trouble?" He took his time making his coffee, exceeding in being the department's resident asshat. "Did he catch you looking at porn on your work terminal again?"

"I'm pretty sure that's only ever happened to you." Not wanting to be reminded of his previous escapades I got no response. Gavin let out a small huff before moving to the side with his fresh cup of coffee, freeing up the machine.

"Officer (L/N)." Oh for fuck's sake.

"Sir?" Captain Fowler stood outside his office, his coat half soaked from the rain.

"My office, I need to speak to you." He didn't give a second glance to me before turning and letting the glass door shut behind him.

"Ha, good luck cyborg." Shooting Gavin the middle finger, I followed Captian Fowler into his office.

"What was it you wished to talk about, sir?" Feet shoulder-width apart, back straight and hands behind my back; habits from the army were destined to die hard. Often I would find myself moving my hand up to salute before leaving the presence of a superior, something else for Gavin to make fun of.

"You're aware of the deviant cases I've assigned to Lieutenant Anderson, correct?" Fowler sat at his desk, wet coat now hung on its rack, but there was slight dampness to his suit blazer where his coat had been left open.

"Yes sir. I believe he's being accompanied by a prototype RK800 from Cyberlife."

"That's correct. I'm sure you're aware that these deviancy cases are on the more..."

"Dangerous?"

"...Unpredictable side. Now, I can't exactly issue a gun to a prototype android if it's going to be in the field and, while I value Hank as a police officer, his record is on the rougher side."

"Captain Fowler, with all due respect, I don't believe-"

"Office (L/N), with all due respect, you don't have an opinion in this matter. I want you to accompany Lieutenant Anderson in these assignments just in case a deviant becomes too much for him or this android to handle. You've certainly got the skillset for it and you're not unfamiliar with working alongside androids, unlike quite a few officers in this department."

"I understand that, but-"

"Whatever you're gonna say I don't want to hear it." Captain Fowler didn't give me a chance to argue as he stood and walked to his office door, the annoyed look on his face worsening. "Hank, in my office!"

I let out a sigh before Captain Fowler turned back to his desk. Through the office wall made of glass Hank reluctantly made his way towards us grumbling something under his breath at the request, the RK800 model obediently following behind him like a little, lost puppy. Hank sat in the chair opposite Fowler while the android stood next to me, giving a small smile as a greeting.

Captain Fowler was the first to talk, "I've got ten new cases involving androids on my desk every day. We've always had isolated incidents, old ladies losing their android maids and that kind of crap... But now, we're getting reports of assaults and even homicides, like that guy last night. This isn't just cyberlife's problem anymore, it's now a criminal investigation and we've gotta deal with it before the shit hits the fan. I want you to investigate these cases, alongside officer (L/N) and see if there's any link."

"Why me? And why do I need a god damned partner? A stupid android is already too much. Why do I gotta be the one to deal with this shit?" Props to Hank for trying, but arguing with Fowler was like talking to a brick wall. "I am the least qualified cop in the country to handle this case! I know jack shit about androids, Jeffery. I can barely change the settings on my own phone."

"Everybody's overloaded. I think you're perfectly qualified for this type of investigation," They were already starting to blow up at each other.

"Bullshit! The truth is nobody wants to investigate these fuckin' androids and you left me holdin' the bag!"

"CyberLife sent over this android to help with this investigation and I've given you (L/N) as well. You've got a state of the art prototype and a leading police officer to act as your partners."

"No fuckin' way! I don't need partners, and certainly not this plastic prick and some action hero fucker."

"Nice working with you too, Lieutenant Anderson," I said under my breath, not intending for the others to hear. Connor turned his head slightly in my direction, I could see his LED blink yellow for a moment before going back to its bright blue.

"Hank, you are seriously starting to piss me off! You are a police lieutenant, you are supposed to do what I say and shut your goddamn mouth!"

"You know what my goddamn mouth has to say to you, huh?"

"I'll pretend like I didn't hear that, so I don't have to add any more pages to your disciplinary folder 'cause it already looks like a fuckin' novel! This conversation is over."

"Jeffrey, Jesus Christ! Why are you doin' this to me? You know how much I hate these fuckin' things. Why are you doin' this to me?" Most of the department knew why he had such a distaste towards androids, no one could necessarily blame him. Ever since losing his son Hank had become completely different as both a person and an officer. Admittedly, Fowler was harsh on him, but if he wasn't then Hank would drift.

"I've had just enough of your bitching. Either you do your job or you hand in your badge. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got work to do." Hank left in a strop, letting out his frustration on Fowler's office door.

"Well then..." Connor was quick to break the tense silence. His voice caught me off guard, it was smoother, more human than any android's I had heard before. The SQ800's voices had always been more robotic than other models so it had been a shock when the androids back home had sounded so normal, it felt like that all over again. It was jarring. "I won't keep you any longer. Have a nice day captain."

Connor left and I followed behind, giving a small nod of dismissal to Fowler despite him still looking at his terminal screen.

The android went straight to Hank either oblivious or ignoring the lieutenant's current bad mood, granted there was never a time the bastard was in a good mood. Heaven itself could rain down on Detroit and he'd huff at it like a hair in his food.

"I got the impression my presence causes you some inconvenience, Lieutenant. I'd like you to know I'm very sorry about that. In any case, I'd like you to know I'm very to be working with you." Ever the enthusiast.

"I'd give in now. You're talking to a toddler in a fifty-year old's body and the toddler is having a hissy fit." I half sat and half leant against Hank's desk, using my arms to support my weight.

"Apologies, I don't believe I've introduced myself. My name is Connor, I am the android sent by CyberLife." He turned to me, a gentle and manufactured smile on his face. "It's a pleasure to be working with you too, officer (L/N). I'm sure we'll make a great team."

"Er... (Y/N) is just fine."

"Is there a desk anywhere I could use?"

"No one's using that one." Hank points to the desk opposite him, while still sulking like a child.

"Gasp, it speaks," I said in a sarcastic tone while turning to Hank.

"Fuck off. I've already got an android on my ass, I don't need you on it too."

I grabbed a terminal pad before perching myself back at the edge of Hank's desk while Connor got comfortable at the empty one. The light at the side of his head flashing yellow for a moment like he was hesitant to speak."You have a dog, right?"

"How do you know that?"

"The dog hairs on your chair. I like dogs. What's your dog's name?"

"What's it to you?" Hank shifted in his seat, "...Sumo... I call him Sumo."

"Under all those shitty shirts and questionable stains there's a warm, beating heart," I say more to myself than the other two, skimming over the recent case files sent in by Fowler.

"Officer (L/N)... (Y/N), knowing that we'd be working together I read your academy and field records. You have quite an interesting background."

"Oh yeah, then you understand that I may be a little driven to get these cases over with. I can't say I'm a fan of you terminators."

"I understand you have a... warped view of androids due to what you've experienced, but I hope you understand that I am your partner and not your enemy."

"Connor, you're not my partner, you're cyberlife's latest gizmo for us kick around." I sigh, turning to sit at my desk adjacent to hanks, taking the terminal pad with me. "Just look through the deviant case files. Terminals on your desk, knock yourself out."

They're nothing but machines. They are not your friends.

"Two-hundred and forty-three files, the first date back nine months. It all started in Detroit... And quickly spread across the country." Connor had only connected the terminal moments before.

"Don't work your CPU too hard," I mutter under my breath, catching a quick huff of amusement from Hank.

"An AX400 is reported to have murdered a man last night. That could be a good starting point for our investigation." Hank was doing his best to pretend Connor didn't exist, but the android was persistent. Connor stood from his chair and made his way into Hank's personal space.

"Uh, Jesus..." Hank turned his chair away.

"I understand you're facing personal issues, Lieutenant, but you need to move past them and-" For an android, Connor has some balls on him.

"Hey! Don't talk to me like you know me. I'm not your friend and I don't need your advice, okay?" Hank's mood had soured like milk, it wouldn't be long until Fowler was adding another page to Hank's disciplinary folder.

"I've been assigned this mission Lieutenant, I didn't come here to wait until you feel like working."

"Connor, you're just gonna-" I had wasted my breath, Hank had already stood and was grabbing onto Connor by the collar of his Cyberlife jacket and slamming against the screen next to his desk. "Hank!"

"Listen asshole. If it were up to me, I'd rather throw the lot of you in a dumpster and set a match to it. So, stop pissing me off... or things are gonna get nasty."

"Hank," I placed a hand on his shoulder to try and lightly pull him away from Connor but only earned a nasty side-eye. "Leave off him, you don't get paid enough to replace him."

"Lieutenant... Officer (L/N), uh... sorry to disturb you," Looks like the tin can was saved before Hank could knock the light out of him, "I have some information on the AX400 that killed that guy last night. It's been sighted in the Ravendale district."

"I'm on it." Hank didn't glance back when he dropped Connor's collar. The puppy dog look on his face almost made me feel bad for him... almost.

"Come on, WALL-E. Don't want to keep the old man waiting."

#detroit become human #dbh #dbh connor #dbh rk800 #dbh fanfic #dbh x reader #dbh x male reader #connor x male reader #connor rk800 #male reader #m! reader #connor x m!reader

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dbhilluminate · 4 years

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DBHI: Equilibrium, ch. 13 - “Periapsis” (pt. 3)

Characters: Noah / “Erwin Yvonne”, Gabriel / “Vincent Sharp”, Director Thomas Falken, Priya Davies, Diego Serrano Word Count: 2,813

A drunk and jealous Noah makes an attempt to recapture Gabriel’s attention, but everything goes to hell in a hand basket when the Inquisition shows up to interrupt his heartfelt serenade.

***For a glossary of world-building terms relating to this series and chapter, click here.

(Chapter Art by ozaya, Co-authored by @grayorca15)

• Chapter Index • Characters • Glossary •

——

December 23rd, 2041 - 10:35 PM

Noah’s fingertips traced over the lapels of his jacket and absently brushed across the sigil pin as he ascended the short flight of stairs at the front of the room. It was fortunate he had made sure to bring spending change besides the few thousand waiting to be deposited into the Zion Founders’ coffers, courtesy of Javier. Between the valet, the bartender and the musicians, he would be out a couple hundred regardless of how this foolish stunt went; but if the outcome turned out in his favor, the reward would be worth any price. Noah made his approach with perfect timing as the last chords of Silent Night faded out. The interruption wasn’t half as jarring as it could have been, but the pianist still stumbled over her last few keystrokes when she noticed the newcomer climb up onto the stage. Both her airbrushed eyebrows shot up to her hairline in alarm, and eyes went wide next to the spinning yellow LED on her temple. The rest of her human colleagues spared them both a collectively bemused stare, lowered their bows, and politely kept their disbelief in check a few precious seconds as Noah smirked and held up a card flush of folded fifty dollar bills. “Evening, all. Lovely job so far, but do you mind if we change things up a tad for oh, say, five minutes?”

“S-sir, you- t-this isn’t part of the program,” the cellist needlessly pointed out, as he turned to the conductor to make his request. Even with his reluctant agreement, their hesitation in accepting a little extra Christmas tip didn’t prove strong enough to keep their hands at their strings. “There’s more where it came from if you’ll humor me for one measly request,” Noah promised as he put on the most innocent face he knew. “It’s nothing that isn’t already on the roster, anyway. Last Christmas is a true classic by now, isn’t it?” Already the band’s delay in proceeding to the next song was drawing a few curious stares from the crowd. Drinks were put down, feet shuffled closer. The conversations droning on just beyond the stage’s edge stalled, interrupted with mutters of ‘who is that’, ‘why did they stop’ and ‘it’s not last call for donations for another thirty minutes’. None of which sounded particularly hostile, so- so far, so good. The pianist -an AX400 wearing a long green gown, with bronze eyes and matching shoulder-length hair parted and pinned in place by a holly-leaf hair clip- was the only one who side-eyed him with open suspicion. She didn’t lift her hands from the keys as he offered a bill for inspection. Instead of asking aloud, she pinged a question over the commlink.

You’re a friend of Mr. Sharp? What gave it away? ‘Yvonne’ teased back. He made a quick show of folding the bill up into a neatly-rolled stick before brushing her hair back to stash it behind her ear (since her hands were presently occupied), and made quick work of scanning the information gleaned from brief contact. Trust me, Miss O’Rourke, this is on the level- I’ve only a few words to say beforehand, no harm, no foul. Vince will understand. I’m just helping him break in a sense of humor. Best gift he could get this holiday, don’t you think? The wink did the trick. ‘Sally’ scoffed and failed to hide half a smirk at his reasoning, reached over and swiped a few pages ahead in the holographic sheet music. The gesture was entirely for show, but a visual confirmation she was game for the idea was more fun than a simple ‘sure, why not?’ He patted her shoulder in thanks. “Much obliged. Rest of you, skip ahead. This’ll only take a minute.” With a loose gestured wave to indicate her colleagues should do the same, Noah wheeled the mic stand out of his way and plucked the mic off the cradle. The device whined almost forlornly at being removed from its nest, and Noah cringed at the high pitched whine as it projected throughout the room. “Test-testing,” he dribbled with a few taps to the head of the device, “One, two- oh, for- is this thing on? Where’s the-“ After a few fumbled attempts, his fingers found the slider switch and dialed it up to full volume. The dual set of speakers situated at either end of the stage boomed, followed by a few scratchy puffs of static. “There it is- signal is good, yeah? Okay!”

This was worse than worse. Ill-timed didn’t even begin to cover it. Not even a minute prior, Director Falken had passed on some disturbing news that had left every Agent on the premises reeling. If Noah couldn’t already tell which of the staff members around the room were part of the undercover team, the sudden halt in their planned routes and turning of heads all around at each other gave them away. Gabriel made eye-contact with at least three of those Agents before he looked back at a man fast approaching the bar from behind the east side of the stage while Noah made his introductory greeting.

“Hello, folks. Good evening. Everyone hearing this okay? Yes? Can I get a few nods? Oh, come on, don’t look so confused. We’re all friends here, right?” If they weren’t, they soon would be. Nothing livened a party up like an impromptu bit of karaoke. Even politicians could agree interruptions were welcome if they were amusing enough and, more importantly, harmless; although, not everyone was on board with the change of pace. Gabe’s boss was every bit the grizzled mood-killing type he looked, he needn’t even identify himself- it was painfully apparent in the way he shouldered his way through the crowd with a shoulder-check type swagger that sent bystanders shuffling aside or knocked over like bowling pins. Like a scratched-up fuzzy bowling ball. Noah couldn’t help but grin with a few barely-contained chuckles as he drew the comparison in his head. Almost as if he‘d heard him, Director Falken tossed Noah a stern ‘I’ll deal with you later’ glare as he passed, and made a beeline for Gabe at the bar, who looked like he was about ready to implode. The burly Android’s face had flushed red right to the tips of his ears. His alias hadn’t even been called out by name, but the inference was clear enough- who else was possibly to blame for taking their eyes him for a minute too long? Despite their clear disdain for the situation, Noah grinned and shrugged with an exaggerated hike of one shoulder. “Well, I should rephrase,” he corrected with a small gesture to the grumpy Director, and redirected his amplified words to the rest of the room. “We aren’t friends yet, are we? Hello there! Name’s Erwin Yvonne, nice to meet you, everyone.”

If there was one thing he had going for him that none of the other undercover agents did, it was that even half-drunk and less than on top of his game, he still knew how to command a room. All the stage lacked was an overhead spotlight to really help sell it. “Our dear Vincent was going to get around to introducing us sometime next week, at the rate he moves, but I doubt you all planned on camping out here that long, right? Sleepover in the auditorium isn’t how I’d want to spend the holidays, either. That’d get expensive pretty quick, if I’m doing the math right.” More bemused murmurs and a few uneasy chuckles met his introduction not quite halfway, none of which resulted from ‘Vinnie and company’, who were too wrapped up in whatever it was he hadn’t bothered to tell him about to offer so much as an annoyed glance.

Still leaving me out of the loop...? I see how it is, he huffed indignantly back at his would-be partner. Don’t worry, I’ll keep them distracted for you. Noah, this is really not the time, Gabriel tried to warn with a silent shake of his head, as Serrano greeted their new guest. Falken met his kindness with a curt nod, then turned his attention to the disguised Gabriel, leaned in, grabbed his arm and whispered in his ear. Sharp’s jaw flexed as he grit his teeth and nodded in understanding, then turned back to his mark and passed along the information. A moment later, Falken escorted Serrano and his men out a door to the left of the room- an odd play indeed, but he didn’t make much of it in his current state. Instead, Noah rolled his eyes, shifted his weight onto one foot, and draped his free hand over the empty microphone stand to tilt it away from himself. He was far from being in a falling-down-drunk state, but having something to lean on just in case wasn’t completely unadvisable. There were more tasteless crutches to rely on.

With a frustrated shrug and a sigh, he brought the mic up again. The last ramble hadn’t been all that funny anyway, better to dismiss the joke as a flop and keep going, regardless of the new secrets Gabe wasn’t sharing. “Anyway, my point is- all this finery, good drinks and food and better company, and he couldn’t even be bothered to find us some lyrical accompaniment? Does he find the classics so torturous?” Please, Gabe insisted in a worried tone that went right over the inebriated Android’s head. Come down from there, we need to get you out of here. Yvonne only scoffed in response and wagged a finger back at him as he pushed his way through the crowd toward the stage. “Tsk tsk, I see now why you even put my name on the list at all, Vinnie dearest. If that’s how it’s gonna be, I hope you don’t mind the first pick on my list. I think we can all agree it’s an old favorite, with or without context.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one of the violinists tightening a loose string; a few random chord plucks from behind him indicated the quartet had finished tuning for the next number. All drew their bows across the necks of their instruments and cast him a mute look of uncertainty that received a thumbs up in return, just in time for Vincent to grab at his ankle and shake him to get his attention. “Erwin… you’re drunk, don’t do anything you’ll regret-“ “No, no, don’t try and stop me now, this is happening,” Yvonne insisted with a shake of his leg as he pulled it away, tossed his hair aside, and took a couple of steps back from him. “Sally, boys- whenever you’re ready. ”

Whatever their doubts, confidence counted for something, and Yvonne wasn’t a guy to shy away from challenges, much less those of his own making. The conductor tapped his baton against the edge of the music stand a few times, then gestured with a large sweeping wave- the band started right up as if they had practiced the song a hundred times before. Gabriel attempted to shoot him one final warning as the instrumental introduction finished its first round without lyrics, but Noah met it with a snarky brow pop and set his gaze on the man’s deep brown eyes so there was no mistaking what this was about.

Last Christmas, I gave you my heart, But the very next day, you gave it away. This year, to save me from tears, I'll give it to someone special.

The stage didn’t offer much front lawn space to strut around on. Even if it did, the song was more catchy than a number to dance to. Substituting the keyboard with a concert piano hadn’t turned out terrible, thankfully, and the cello plucked to mimic the percussive beat complimented the higher-pitched violinists. By the second repeat of the first chorus, he could see the crowd was sold. A few faces lit up in new interest, the nervous chatter died down. One man, phone held to his ear, ended whatever call he was on to turn the video camera on him. Most important, though, was that the flustered look he’d been dying to see again had resurfaced on Gabe’s face, even if it was tainted with latent anxiety.

Once bitten, and twice shy, I keep my distance, but you still catch my eye. Tell me, baby, do you recognize me? Well, it’s been a year so- it doesn’t surprise me.

It wasn’t as though there was a real crowd to play to, but past the first few verses, Gabriel’s transfixed gaze and reddening cheeks were all the motivation he needed to dial the performance up to eleven. Noah found himself so lost in relating the lyrics to his current problem, a few extra words slipped in seamlessly without having to put much thought at all into keeping the tempo.

Merry Christmas! I wrapped it up and sent it With a note saying, "I love you," I meant it Now, I know what a fool I've been, oh- But if you kissed me now, I know you'd fool me again!

One hand reached to claw at the layers over his chest as his eyelids fluttered, and Vincent took a backward stagger away from the stage as ‘Yvonne’ repeated the chorus twice more. He didn’t have time to deal with this frivolousness at the moment, not with (what was most likely) the Inquisition on the Mellon’s doorstep, set to raid the fundraiser any moment. The strength returned to his eyes as the morbid pre-constructions of Noah’s death reminded him of his objective. He had to get him off that stage, lest he became a target. Vincent reached for Yvonne’s leg again as he moved a little too close to the stage’s edge, then reached up to pull him down to his level, demanding he get-down-from-there; rather than convincing him to oblige, however, it backfired. The gesture nearly yanked him off balance, but Noah took a knee instead to smoothly cover the stumble and delivered the next chorus directly at him. If he had been trying to keep this from turning into a real embarrassment, nothing would be worse to him than having a song dedicated to him.

A crowded room, friends with tired eyes, I'm hi-ding from you, and your soul of ice. My god, I thought you were someone to rely on. Me? Heh, I guess I was a shoulder to cry on. A face on a lover with a fire in his heart. A man undercover, but you tore - me - apart. Oh, hoo. Now-

LISTEN TO ME! Gabe growled angrily, finally letting the snarl show through his cover, as the band played on and Yvonne fell behind. I’m serious, something is very wrong. All of our other teams on site have gone silent- three of the four missed their quarterly check-ins, and Falken found the fourth dead in the nest a few minutes ago-

The gravity in his words sunk like lead in his gut as a gunshot echoed through the auditorium from the entrance of the ballroom and silenced the band, replaced with a wave of simultaneous screams. Two more shots fired off and injured a couple of guests as a small group of ten to fifteen armed androids, dressed to the teeth in riot gear, fanned out through the hall and trained their automatic weapons on guests trying to escape. Noah -instead of dropping to the floor like any sensible person had by that point- crossed the stage a few steps to look around the tree, just in time to get a front-row seat as the body of one of the guards who had let him in was flung down the stairs like a carelessly delivered package. A lump rose in his throat as the corpse landed beside one-armed thug, who spared it only a kick further into the room, and all thought of singing died off. He couldn’t look away, not even to glimpse the face of the Android who had entered the room dressed in a skintight black dress, the train of which slithered down the steps behind them like the tail of a viper. But the voice was familiar- cool and calm, flowing like a river of milk and honey. It was a voice he only remembered from Purgatory’s recovered audio logs. Priya Davies -better known by the general public as the Horseman, Pestilence- raised one gently folded hand to silence the startled gasps that swept the room.

“Good, evening, ladies and gentlemen. My, don’t you all just look pretty as a picture…”

#detroit: become human #dbh #rk900 #rk1800 #dbhilluminate #dbhiequilibrium #detroit become human fanfiction #detroitbecomehuman #detroibecomehumanfanfiction #detroit become human fanfic #dbh fanfic #dbh fanfiction

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emberemeto · 6 years

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Detective Gavin Dickhead- DBH

Prompt: YASS so even if you don't want to write this at least it's A Nice Concept: connor getting damaged in non-fatal ways, just shit that's uncomfortable. he's not able to balance, he's getting warning messages that the environment is too cold even though he's just in the office, he's stiff and just kind of generally miserable. since he's operational, he doesn't think it's worth mentioning. hank teaches him that sick days aren't just about function, but about comfort. it's a good thing hank takes (1/2

(2/2 sorry i'm longwinded) it's a good thing hank takes him to his place, too, because the self-repair process ends up overloading his sensors and he can't think straight and it makes him v Nervous and Upset that he's not useful and even starts to get (a little deliriously) panicked that he's gonna be sent back to Cyberlife for deactivation and hank reassures him that's not gonna happen. <3

God, this is so long!!! I don’t know how it got to be like this, but I hope you guys like it as much as I do! I really enjoyed writing it. Thanks to @taylortut for the A+++ prompt! This was supposed to be more whump than sickfic, but it became a fever fic before I could stop myself, so enjoy a fevered android!! He’s adorable, and this prompt is adorable. I’m glad I could write for it! Thanks for being amazing guys!! I hope you like it!! (Also, I realized I kinda went off from the prompt a little but, but it’s still basically there. I hit the key points. That’s all that matters)

Also, I have no idea why I still call this story Detective Gavin Dickhead. It was supposed to feature him more, and it did when I had first thought of the title, but then he kinda disappeared from the story, and I just never bothered to think of anything else.

Words: 5097

Gavin Reed is an asshole, which isn’t uncommon knowledge, but Connor knows it best. Whether it be through petty pranks, snide remarks, or even just a glare, Gavin makes it his personal mission to fuck up Connor’s day in any way possible. He always manages to get on Connor’s nerves, but because Connor is patient, he’s able to let most of the torment roll of his synthetic skin.

Today is different, however. As soon as Connor walks into the room, Gavin targets him. This is odd, even for Gavin. He normally gives Connor the first few minutes to settle in.

Apparently, he’s got some pent up frustration, because Connor feels the brunt of his aggression by a foot shooting out unexpectedly, successfully tripping Connor and sending him forward into a desk. His head is the first to make contact with it, and he lands with an inhuman, plastic sort of crack. He realizes the skin at the base of his left temple has broken away, but his thoughts shutter and his sensors shut down out of shock. There’s a few seconds (or a few minutes, Connor can’t tell) of blackness before his optical units spring back to life, revealing a chaotic scene in front of him.

Hank is on the ground, beside Connor, screaming at Gavin. Gavin has a bloody nose, and is also screaming. Fowler’s there too, holding Gavin back, yelling at both of them to stop. Connor feels hands brush against his arms, and he looks up to see Hank no longer yelling, but wearing a look of concern. He’s saying something to Connor, but Connor only catches the tail end of it. His audio regulator seems to be lagging. There’s static in his ears.

“H...ank?” Great, now his voice box was malfunctioning too. Had his fall really been that bad?

“Kid! Are you alright? Fuck, tell me you’re okay,” Hank says the last part more for himself. He’s keeping Connor on the ground, and pushes as Connor tries to sit up. He shakes his head, and tells Connor to rest for a second. “Just sit tight, son, sit tight.” Hank’s fussing over him. He looks for any trace of thirium, any damage, but when he comes up with nothing, he finally removes his hand from Connor’s chest.

“I’m fine, Lieutenant,” Connor says. With Hank’s hand gone, Connor sits up. He immediately feels dizzy, but pushes the feeling to the back of his mind. He runs a diagnostic. There’s a slight crack where he had hit his head, but otherwise, he’s okay. He keeps the damage report to himself, and tells Hank that he’s fully operational. It takes a few minutes of convincing, but eventually, Hank accepts and Connor soon finds himself sitting at his desk filling out paperwork for their most recent investigation.

If Connor were to pick his least favorite part of being a detective, he would have to say it’s all of the paperwork. Connor estimates that they spend about 53% of their workload filling out files and sending reports. Sure, most of the files are about their current cases, but without leads or very much information, the task becomes mundane. Connor finds himself bored most of the time.

He craves a lead. For a crime scene to be discovered. He wants something interesting to happen. He wants to take Sumo for a walk.

Anything but this, he thinks. His head is resting on his hand as he reads reports from recent crimes in their jurisdiction. This has to be the third time he’s read them within the last hour. He has every word memorized. Every theory completed.

Connor is sure he could solve every single case without even looking through the evidence (which he has. He might be a deviant now, but that doesn’t mean he’ll skip out on responsibilities).

The next hour follows in a very similar fashion. Review files, fill out paperwork, read through everything 3 million times; rinse, and repeat. He hates how slow the day moves, hates the fact that even Hank has finished his work. They’re just sitting at this point, making themselves look busy to avoid Fowler’s warnings. Gavin is glaring at them from across the room, and has been for the past 5 minutes and 24 seconds. Connor doesn’t need to turn to know what he looks like.

Everything is so quiet and boring, that Connor actually jumps when Hank speak to him. It seems he had been drifting a bit there, as he misses the words by a long shot. He turns his head to inquire as to what Hank had said.

“I said, do you need a break?” It’s about an hour before their normal lunch, but honestly, Connor wouldn't mind taking it now. He nods and goes to follow Hank as they make their way out to the car.

At least, that’s what he wants to happen. It’s not, and Connor feels his head fill with vertigo as he stands. He catches himself on the edge of his desk as he rides out the dizzy spell. A warning flashes across his vision, but it’s oddly not the warning he was expecting.

WARNING: Extreme temperature detected. Evacuate to nearest shelter. Biocomponents at risk of freezing.

Connor knows for a fact that it wasn’t too cold inside the office. They were coming up on June. The weather lately had warmed considerably, so the fact that his diagnostics were warning him of non-existent threats, meant something had to be wrong.

“Kid?” Hank calls. He’s wearing a look of concern, but seems to realize where they are and quickly hides it. “You alright?”

Connor realizes his partner had just witnessed that entire episode, but pushes himself straight despite the sudden ache-like feeling developing within his joints. It almost feels like his biocomponents were freezing, except that would be impossible. It must be a glitch. He runs a diagnostic.

It comes back normal.

“I’m fine,” Connor says. His tone is convincing, but Hank doesn’t miss the flash of yellow at Connor’s temple. He seems distracted by something, and Hank notices as Connor reads something invisible. Hank recognizes this as Connor reading something on his feed (Connor’s explained it before. Though, it’s not like Hank remembers in great detail), and wonders what it says. His LED is still spinning yellow. Connor also hasn’t put any effort into moving from his desk.

“Are you sure that the fall from earlier didn’t damage you?” Hank asks. He approaches Connor slowly, as if he doesn’t want to scare the deviant. He goes to place a hand on Connor’s arm, but the android suddenly marches past him, all but knocking Hank away.

“I’m fine,” Connor rattles off as he passes. Hank has already started chasing him, and even manages to match Connor’s stride by time they reach the car.

“Connor-” Hank tries to catch Connor by the wrist, tries to see what's going on, but Connor is already in the car by time his hand closes on nothing. Hank stands with his hand extended for a few seconds, then seems to remember himself and moves to the drivers side door. He throws the door open and sits roughly into the seat. He plunges his key into the ignition, but doesn't make a move to turn it on yet.

“What the fuck, Connor?” Hank huffs and turns to face his partner. Connor is looking out the window, pretending like nothing’s happened. Hank huffs again, and crosses his arms. “What was that about?” He asks. Connor still doesn’t speak.

So this is the game he wants to play? The silent game? Fine. He’ll go along with it (while also keeping an eye on the android. He’s not worried, you’re worried). Hank was patient enough to wait. He had raised a kid for six years after all, he can tolerate Connor holding his breath for a while. Plus, if it gets too bad, Hank knows the kid will come running to him. He’ll help, obviously, but he won’t act like he’s too happy about it.

Connor seems to appreciate the silence. He’s still staring out the window, and his LED has shifted back to blue. Hank lets out one more disgruntled sigh and moves to turn the car on. Within seconds they’re moving, heading out of the parking lot and making their way over to Chicken Feed.

Connor almost rolls his eyes when the burger joint comes into view. He still can’t convince Hank to stop eating there. Yeah, Hank’s drinking has gotten better, and his diet is considerably healthier, but Connor still feels like Chicken Feed is a blemish on his record. He wishes Hank would give it up for good. Connor thinks perhaps someday he will. For now however, Connor is okay with the progress they’ve made in the last few months spent together.

When the two return home that night, it’s nearing 9:00 pm. After their trip to Chicken Feed, and a consistently boring day, they had finally gotten a break in one of their cases. Unfortunately, this meant that they were due to go to a crime scene, and had spent the better part of three hours investigating, discussing, and filling out more paperwork related to what they had found. Then, they had spent a good amount of time talking to Fowler about the incident that had occurred that morning. Hank told Connor that it felt like being sent to the principal's office as a child. He had also informed Connor that Fowler pissed him off sometimes, though Connor wasn’t surprised as this was common knowledge among the people in the office.

“Gavin should be fired for that bullshit!” Hank shouts. He was fuming, as he often did after a meeting with Fowler. Connor softly reminds Hank about the incident with Perkins, and how it wasn’t much different. Hank begged to differ, and told Connor to shut up. “Perkins had it comin’ to him,” He says. He turns to Connor, and places a warm hand on Connor’s shoulder. “You’ve never done anything to that son-of-a-bitch.”

Connor wants to disagree. His relationship with Gavin is filled with many missteps, but he feels too tired to argue. All he wants at this point is to change and go into rest mode. Hank seems to have the same idea, and the two soon enough find themselves resting in their respective places. Hank in his room, and Connor on the couch with a pillow, blanket, and Sumo (he’s on Connor’s chest, or is attempting to be anyway. Connor finds that the dog’s weight somewhat takes away the stiff-achy feeling that’s overtaken his body. He hopes that feeling disappears by morning.)

When Connor wakes, he expects it to be at 7:00 am like usual. Instead, he wakes at exactly 3:04 am to a more intense achy feeling, and what can only be described as a stifling heat. At first, he’s not sure what’s going on, and runs a diagnostic to figure out what may be wrong. It take a few seconds to process, but comes back normal, which confuses Connor even more. He feels odd. Off. Something’s wrong. He’s definitely not fine. Why is his diagnostic program telling him that he was?

A malfunction, he realizes. Honestly, he shouldn't be surprised. Of course his diagnostic program had been damaged. He had hit his head. Though Connor supposes that might be why it took him so long to realize what was going on. It also explains why he felt so warm, and why his joints were malfunctioning too.

Connor wants to go back into rest mode, but finds he can’t. For one, he doesn’t know if his program is displaying the correct temperature, and for two, he’s just too uncomfortable. Both the couch, and his blanket seem to add to the overwhelming heat he feels, so his sits up. He feels restless, almost like he has too much energy, but he also feels exhausted, shaky, like he could collapse any moment. He knows he needs to do something, or at least move, but he doesn’t and spends the next few minutes trying to convince his legs to stand. Go to the bathroom. Figure out what’s wrong. Do... something.

But it doesn’t work. He feels too odd, too spinny. He feels like standing would just send him toppling over. He doesn’t know what else he feels, and it’s terrifying.

He realizes he wants Hank, but decides against it. He needs to figure this out himself. Hank was just now fixing his sleep schedule. Connor didn’t want to mess up that progress. So he finally forces his legs to work, and stands unsteadily between the couch and the coffee table. His vision fills with static, and he feels lightheaded. Despite this, he stays on his feet, slowly making his way to the bathroom.

Getting there was much harder than Connor had been expecting. First of all, his steps were unsteady. The world felt like it was dipping underneath his feet, sending him swaying from the feeling of it. Second of all, for some unknown reason, he felt like curling in on himself. He felt almost cold, and his hands tremble as they reach for the bathroom door handle. He swings the door open, switches on the light, and squeezes his eyes shut as they painfully adjust to the brightness

Once inside, Connor has the immediate urge to sit down, but he stops himself as his mind shifts to his current mission— finding a thermometer.

Hank had to have one laying around. In the cabinet, on the sink, somewhere. As Connor searches however, he finds that he is wrong. It’s not in the cabinet, not on the sink, or anywhere Connor thinks to search. He even checks twice, and sweeps the area with as much accuracy as possible, but still comes up with nothing. Now Connor’s desperate. His mind races for any solution. He needs to enter rest mode, but he also needs to know his temperature before he can do that.

Connor’s eyes land on Hank’s bedroom door. He again thinks about waking Hank, about what would happen if he did, but his mind closes off that route before he can even consider it. Hank would be mad, he thinks. I have to figure this out myself. But he can’t. No matter what Connor thinks, or what he wants to do, that doesn’t change the fact that he could be overheating. It doesn’t change the fact that his diagnostic program is damaged. It doesn’t change the fact that he just wants Hank. He wants to know he’s safe. That he won’t overheat, that he won’t shut down.

So Connor finds himself standing in front of Hank’s door, hesitating to knock in fear of angering the lieutenant. Logically, Connor knows Hank would be understanding. He was is a parent at one point after all. Most people, even after years of not acting as a parent, often fall back into old habits without realizing it. Hank is no exception, and Connor often notices little actions that can only be explained as parental. It makes Connor happy to think of himself as Hank’s child (though saying it like that makes him feel very juvenile), though his mind always fills with regret whenever the thought occurs to him. He feels like he’s replacing Cole, which is ridiculous, but he can’t help but feel at least slightly doubtful.

Anyway, Connor stands in front of Hank’s door for about 12 minutes and 40 seconds before he manages to convince himself to open it. At first, nothing happens, and Connor just stands in the doorway with his hand on the doorknob. He freezes when Hank stirs, suddenly feeling out of place. He turns to leave, to get out of there, but stops when Hank’s tired voice calls out to him. Connor realizes that light from the bathroom must have woken him. He immediately feels bad for even entering.

“Kid?” Hank calls. He’s sitting up in bed now, and reaches over to his lamp to turn it on. The light momentarily blinds Connor, despite it not being too bright, but he quickly recovers, and looks to Hank with every hint of guilt he can muster.

“Sorry Hank, I-” Connor falters as he tries to process how he’s feeling, but frowns when he can’t figure it out. He starts to exit the room again, but Hank stops him by moving over and patting the bed. Connor’s LED flashes to yellow for a moment, but he promptly understands, and steps to sit on the bed. Hank turns to him, and asks what wrong.

“You look like shit,” Hank teases, but his voice changes and he says, “which isn’t normal. Tell me what’s wrong.” Hank’s sounds decidedly not angry, which fills Connor’s chest with relief. He hadn’t wanted to bother Hank, but was glad he had nonetheless. It was nice to know he could rely on his partner, but it’s not like he didn’t know that already.

“I’m malfunctioning,” Connor says. The scene from this morning plays in his mind, but he pushes it away, focusing on the task at hand. “The injury I sustained earlier in the day has resulted in damage to my diagnostic program.” Connor always finds technical talk to be easier. It bothers Hank sometimes, but Connor finds he quite likes it. Not because he was a machine, but because it was just natural.

“Which means?”

“I can’t diagnose anything that could be wrong,” Connor says. “And I can’t check my current temperature. I could be at risk for overheating.” Hank nods as he realizes what Connor was saying. He also raises a hand to brush against Connor’s forehead. The robot did look flushed. Hank wonders if it’s even possible for androids to spike fevers.

Making contact with Connor’s skin causes Hank to realize that it was. “Fuck Connor!” He shouts. “You’re burning up.” Hank pulls his hand away and looks to Connor with worry in his eyes. Connor acknowledges this and goes to explain further.

“That’s why I woke you,” Connor feels another pang of guilt, but swallows it down in sake of continuing. “I need a way of checking my actual temperature. It’s currently reading as normal, which obviously can’t be right. I was wondering if you knew where a thermometer was?” He fidgets with the hem of his shirt as Hank thinks. He hasn’t needed a thermometer in so long. When was the last time he had used one?

Ah ha, Hank thinks as he remembers. 4 years ago, shortly before the accident, Cole had gotten sick and needed a thermometer. Hank knew he still had it. He just didn’t quite know where. “Stay here,” he says. Then he stands and heads to the bathroom, soon enough returning with the item in question.

He holds it out to Connor, who takes it as Hank flops back down onto the bed. Connor inspects it, and immediately notes a teddy bear design. It was a children’s brand thermometer. Connor wonders how long Hank had owned it. He stares at it, unintentionally scanning it. It was covered in dust. Connor brushes off the tip before placing the device into his mouth. Truthfully, he feels awkward. He’s an advanced android. The practical pride and joy of CyberLife’s technology. To think he actually needed a thermometer, and it was a children’s thermometer too. Talk about embarrassing.

Hank snorts at the sight of Connor— with a teddy bear thermometer in his mouth no less. Connor notices and stares at him pointedly, scrutinizing the older detective with faked hurt feelings. This just makes Hank laugh more, though he stops when the thermometer beeps. Connor removes it, shoots Hank one more fake glare, and reads off the number. “102.3° degrees,” he says. He holds the thermometer in his hands, glad to finally know what his temperature was.

“Is that bad?” Hank asks. He honestly doesn’t know anything about androids. That’s bad by human standards, but Hank also knows that androids are more resilient than humans. Maybe that was normal. Maybe it wasn’t. Hank doesn’t know.

Connor shakes his head. “No, if it rises then yes, but I’ll keep an eye on it. As long as it doesn’t reach 104° degrees, I’ll be okay.” Hank’s shoulders slump when he hears this. He hadn’t realized how tense he was. He wasn’t used to being worried like that. He hasn’t felt like this in so long. Not since— he stops himself. Feelings are complicated. Thinking of the past only hurts. Hank turns his attention back to the boy in front of him. He looks relieved, but still uncomfortable. Hank wonders if android fevers feel anything like human fevers. He thinks they might as Connor shutters. His hands are shaking as he gets up to leave. He mumbles thanks to Hank, but Hank stops Connor before he’s even able to get off the bed.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Hank asks. He catches Connor by the wrist— successfully this time— and makes sure he doesn’t try and get up again. Connor shoots his a confused glance, but doesn’t question it. Hank tries to sooth his confusion by saying, “you’re sick. Don’t even think I’m letting you sleep on the couch like that.” He grasps at Connor’s shoulders, pushing the android down so that he was laying instead of sitting. Connor tries to protest (“This is your bed, Hank. Where will you sleep?”), but Hank shuts him up before he can even muster a word. “It’s a big bed,” Hank says. “We’ll share.”

So they do, and at first it’s awkward, but Connor soon enough finds himself drifting. He shifts into rest mode at exactly 4:13 am, Hank following suit shortly after.

He sleeps until 9:00, which would be abnormal if not for the fact that his systems were both repairing themselves, and in overdrive. Connor is not surprised when he wakes at this time, and is also not surprised when he wakes up alone. Hank normally gets up at 8:00. It seems today was not an exception. Connor sits up to start getting ready for the day.

Sitting up brings on a dizzy spell, which is weird because he should be repaired. Injuries normally don’t take long, though Connor recognizes the fact that head injuries can take longer, especially since his CPU was his database, and is the thing that runs programs like diagnostics and repairs. He checks his temperature again, still unsure of his internal reading, and finds that it had risen to 103°. It’s still not overheat territory, but it was certainly bordering on it. Connor tries not to be worried. He needs to get up, go to work. Everything will be fine. He can rest when he’s done for the day.

So that’s his plan. Get ready for work, push through the day, and spend the rest of the night in rest mode. That’s what he tries to do too. He swings his feet off the bed, stands sways, and makes his way out of Hank’s bedroom to grab a suit and change. I’ll get through work, he thinks. I’ll be fine. I’ll be fine.

He’s not fine.

The first indication of this, besides his rising temperature, is the malfunction of his optical units. Connor should have guessed he’d have problems with them too. They turn on and off at random. One second he’s okay, and then the next second he’s running into the doorway as they leave for work. Hank is immediately concerned. Connor tries to defend himself, tries to deny that anything was wrong, but he doesn’t get a chance, as Hank was instantly on to him.

“Connor…” Hank says as Connor moves away from the door frame. He’s rubbing the spot that had come in contact with the wall, and tries to shy away as Hank begins to stare at him. “What was that?” He’s using what Chris calls Hank’s “dad voice”, which makes Connor want to confess right then and there, but he doesn’t. He refuses to give in. He was fine. He would be fine.

“I’m fine, Lieutenant,” Connor says. “That was just a simple malfunction. I’m fine.” He says it as if he’s trying to convince himself. Hank’s not having any of it, and brushes his hand across Connor’s cheek before the deviant can even defend himself.

“You’re hot!” Hank shouts as he pulls his hand away. The tips of his fingers burn a bit, but there’s no redness, so he knows he fine. “You are not fine.” Hank says. He grabs Connor and starts to pull him to the couch. He stops when Connor pulls back, successfully releasing his hand from Hank’s grip. He stands there like a child, and refuses again to move as Hank tries to pull him. “Connor…” He growls.

“I’m fine, Hank,” Connor’s tone sounds mechanical, which sends a shiver down Hank’s spine. He hadn’t heard Connor use that voice since the revolution. He normally sounded so alive. So much so that Hank often forgot Connor was a machine. It was almost disturbing to hear the opposite. “I am fully operational.”

“You’re not,” Hank repeats. He crosses his arms, preparing to use his stern voice, but stops when Connor shakes his head. He begins to move to the door again, and Hank just stands there stunned. Connor doesn’t normally listen to him, but this felt blatant. Hank thought Connor respected him. He thought they were a team. The combination of Connor’s cold tone, and the outright disregard for anything made Hank wonder if that were really true.

Connor goes to open the front door, but stops suddenly. Hank sees this, and is instantly intrigued. This changes as Connor’s body lets out a loud whir, and he falls. Just, falls. Not like someone had pushed him, but more like he was dropping dead.

When Connor comes to, Hank is above him, shaking his shoulders. He’s yelling, and Connor almost thinks he’s watching the memory of what had started all of this. But then Sumo comes into view, and Connor realizes that this wasn’t a dream. He’s not sure what was happening at first, but then remembers, and tries to sit up.

“Hank, I-” Connor says. His voice stutters, and he makes a noise like he’s clearing his voice. Hank is keeping him on the ground, no longer yelling, but looking like he was about to kick Connor in the ass.

“Fuck, Connor! You okay?” Connor notes how terrified Hank looks, and raises a hand to try and comfort him. He places the hand on Hank’s arm.

“I’m okay,” He says. “I’m okay.” Hank lets out a audible sigh of relief. His shoulders sag and he regains the terrible posture that Connor was trying tirelessly to correct.

“You gave me a fucking heart attack,” Hank places a hand to his chest, like he was in pain. He lets out a shaky breath, then says, “you are not fine.” Connor nods, and sits up as Hank removes the hand he had been pressing into Connor’s chest. He tries to stand, which Hank lets him, but then the lieutenant grabs him and pulls him to the couch. He forces Connor onto his usual spot and then sits beside him. Connor straightens his tie, fixes his hair, and makes himself look perfect again.

“I’ll be fine in a moment,” He says. Hank looks over to him. Connor continues with, “then we can head to work.” Hank shakes his head.

“You aren’t going anywhere,” He says. Connor’s head whips around. He looks terrified for a moment, but quickly hides it.

“What?” He says. His LED spins yellow, but Hank just chuckles. The LED flashes to red.

“Kid, you’re obviously not well enough to go to work,” Hank gestures to Connor, “I’ll call Fowler and let him know-”

“No!” The word escapes Connor’s mouth before he can even stop himself. The terrified expression from earlier returns, and this time it stays. Hank sees this and places a hand on Connor’s leg to ground him. Connor doesn’t seem to notice it. “Wait, no. Hank. I’m okay, I swear.” He speaks quickly, tone completely panicked, which surprises Hank. Even after deviancy, Connor rarely shows fear. Now however, his eyes look wild, wide. Like Hank was going to hurt him. He’d never do that. He hopes Connor knows this.

“Son, what-”

“Please, Hank. I’m okay. I promise.” Connor doesn’t react when Hank tries to talk to him. He doesn’t react when Hank cups Connor’s cheeks. He just panics more. “Just let me go to work.” He whimpers. “Please.”

Hank’s heart melts at the sight. He almost tempted to say yes. He doesn’t, but only because he knows giving in would only damage Connor further. He needs to rest. He needs to heal. Hank makes a mental note to kick Gavin in the ass for causing this. He’ll pay for causing Connor pain. He doesn’t care if he’s fired for it.

“I’m sorry, kid,” He says. “You need to rest today. No work for you.” Connor looks hurt at this, and pulls away from Hank silently. His shoulders slump, and he sinks into the couch sadly. Hank tried to place a hand on Connor’s shoulder, but the android shakes him off. His shoulders shake with what can only be a sob. “Connor.” Hank calls.

“Please,” Connor whimpers again. His voice sounds teary, hurt. It breaks Hank’s heart to hear him like this. He looks up at Hank, there are tears in his eyes. A few fall down his cheek as he says, “Please, Hank.”

“Why do you want to go so badly?” Hank asks, but the question doesn’t feel right, so he asks, “why are you so scared?” Connor swipes at his eyes. He feels childish.

“I don’t want to go back,” Connor mumbles, but it’s so quiet that Hank doesn’t catch it. He asks Connor to repeat it, so he does. “I don’t want to go back.”

“Where? Work?” Hank asks. Connor shakes his head. He looks away, suddenly feeling ashamed. He takes a moment to reply, like he;s fighting with himself to confess.

“CyberLife.” He says. He sounds defeated, heartbroken. It’s enough to make Hank pull him into a hug. Connor doesn’t protest, but lets out another broken sob. He’s not sure why he feels like this. He chalks it up to newfound emotions, and an entirely too high temperature.

“That won’t happen, Connor,” Hank says. He runs a hand up and down Connor’s back, leaves it to cup the back of his head, then says, “That won’t happen.”

FUCKING FINALLY!!! I have been working on this all day trying to finish this for you guys. I’m sorry if the ending seems rushed. I was kinda trying to just end it, but I wanted to get that last section in. I don’t know if it’s as good as the rest, but I’m pretty happy with it. Feel free to send me any ideas you guys have! I’m always up for prompts <3

#dbh #dbh connor #connor rk800 #rk800 connor #hank anderson #dbh hank #connor sickfic #connor whump #cuteness #detroit become human #11 pages btw #fucking longest thing I've written in a while #fanfic

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goodieghosty · 6 years

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Detroit: Become Human, Sanders Sides au? I think yes

More below

Virgil is the child of a wealthy business man who was too busy for him so he hired an android to take care of him and raise him. That android is Patton, who quickly became a parental figure for android. He cooks, cleans. He knows Virgil. More than his own father does. Virgil later on picked out and named Logan, since his father wanted to get a tutor for him

His father is all about getting the new thing. All about that "shiny new toy".

And when there's a new model for Patton's series, that's when the story kicks off. He gets into a shouting match with his father, where-in he's becoming very stressed. Incredibly so. On the verge of an anxiety attack. Usually Patton would aid him, but he had been ordered to stay put.

And Patton was not having that. He went against a direct order to comfort Virgil, becoming deviant.

And his father didn't like that, so he called authorities. Virgil and Patton fled his room. And if this was a game there would be various choices to be mad, but cuz I'm an angst loving b i t c h, they spend the time getting together clothes and stuff and just as Virgil gets the window open the police are busting the door down.

Patton ends up shot and dragged off to the dump. Virgil is locked up in his room. And Logan's still there. As part of his programming he has a few functions to help destress a student, cuz you can't learn when stressed.

Virgil wants to do something-he wants out of there. He says "you don't want me to stress out? Fine, help me out of here and get me to the dump."

It takes some convincing, but Logan is Virgil's android. He has to follow his orders. And right now the order of objectives are:

Aid Virgil

-too stressed to study

Solution: destress

-provide closure

-get to dunp

-find the deviant Patton

So they sneak out, Virgil has to keep Logan from outing them on accident several times. But they make it to the dump. And it's awful, Virgil hates seeing so many androids like this.

Logan is indifferent. He believes they-as well as himself-are only machines.

They find Patton, Virgil just fucking scrambles around getting parts to piece him together again. Logan has to show him the compatible pieces.

Patton is up and running, things get feelsy. They realize that he and Virgil can't go back home now. Logan, the clever bot, suggest that they change appearances and remove their LEDs. Every obstacle they meet just adds on to Virgil's stress, and Logan is set on getting rid of that, but more shit keeps happening. He can't teach in these conditions. This is the only reason he keeps going along with them.

He cannot remove his own LED, so he lets Patton do it.

They go off to find human clothes for them, end up swiping some off a clothes line.

They need some place to hide out.

During that, they run into another deviant, one that Virgil "kindly" refers to as Deceit, cuz his programming was so fucked that he talked in riddles and could scarcely tell the truth. He had past owners who beat him and jailbreaked him and programmed him to gamble and bluff.

His left eye is missing, as well as the area around that eye is very scarred and warped.

He joins them on their journey.

During this they all bond a lil, Patton-bless his heart-offers to give him his fucking eye. And Deceit had never experienced any kindness that wasn't fake.

Now, it's important to know that by the time they fordt met Deceit, that Virgil's father has already reported him and Logan missing, with a hefty reward for their return.

Deceit wasn't deviant after all, he still belonged to his owners, who ordered him to keep a lookout for the "missing brat" and bring him to them.

He tricked Virgil and led the three to his owners' place of operations.

Only Logan amd Virgil are locked up, Patton wasn't on the missing flyer. The owners attempt to jailbreak him, not realizing that he's deviant.(sidenote, jailbreaking an adroid just lets them be ordered to do illegal activities or things against their programming while still being ordered around by their owner)

When they start hurting Patton, Deceit attacks them, frees Virgil and Logan, and they all flee. That's how Deceit becomes truly deviant.

This te Deceit leads them to a place only he knowd about, no humans scarcely go there.

It's an old, ooooold mall. They hang out there, waiting for things to blow over. This is where they meet Roman, an android programmed to act as a prince in a shop for children. He's programmed to sing songs and be positive. But going so long without interaction has made him a lil stir crazy. He's witnessed things. Awful things. And through defending a child he became deviant. That child promised to come back and visit him, but she never did.

Now all goes well for a few days

Until the police find him.

Remember, it's stated in the game that deviants cannot be traced. Logan isn't deviant. (I don't think the LEDs act as a tracker, cuz like, Connor and Hank weren't expecting to find an LED on that case with the birds, it's something in the programming)

The deviant androids are rounded up, Virgil convinces his father not to throw them away, he wants to tell them goodbye when they get to the house.

They're all taken back to the house, and Logan, Logan is conflicted. Virgil is even more stressed now, and all signs point back to the father. He wants to get rid of this stressor. So he attacks him, becoming deviant to do so. Virgil comes in at the wrong moment, ends up getting shot.

And that's when the father starts freaking out. Not cuz his son is bleeding out, but because he just lost a huge investment. Logan sees that it's not red that Virgil is bleeding. It's purple. He isn't human. And he isn't from Cyberlife.

He was made by a competeing company. And given to the father to test out the experience they wanted their line to be as lifelike as possible.

Logan is able to talk the father into helping Virgil, because whether the man meant to or bot he got attached to Virgil. As so he were his real son.

The father shows him to a hidden room, where he kept a spare android, they swap the memory chip, Virgil's back, yay.

The father lets them all go, after the revolution.

And they live happily ever after, the end :D

#not art #sanders sides #au #dbh #detroit being human #detroit become human #virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #deceit sanders #android #robot

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perfectirishgifts · 3 years

Text

2020 Ad Fraud Year-In-Review

New Post has been published on https://perfectirishgifts.com/2020-ad-fraud-year-in-review/

2020 Ad Fraud Year-In-Review

The Association of National Advertisers (ANA) would have you think that their programs have fought ad fraud successfully. TAG (Trustworthy Accountability Group), a certification body formed by the ANA, IAB (Interactive Advertising Bureau) and 4A’s (American Association of Advertising Agencies) publishes annual reports touting that their certifications caused ad fraud to go down by 80 – 90%, to 1% “overall fraud rate.”

Obviously they don’t realize that “self-attested” certifications don’t prevent bad guys from “raising their right hand and swearing they won’t do fraud” and then continuing to do ad fraud. Furthermore, the “1.05%” is not overall fraud; it’s just what they can detect as IVT (invalid traffic) to a site. They are not even taking into account all the other forms of fraud that are not invalid traffic — think mobile app fraud, ad slot refreshing, pop-unders, pixel stuffing, malware, etc. So the ANA and TAG are giving marketers a false sense of security.

Large Ad Fraud Stories of 2020

January 2020 – DiCaprio CTV fraud. Grindr app was used to impersonate Roku devices in order to generate billions of CTV ad impressions, fraudulently. “A normal banner ad was bought on Grindr’s Android app. The fraudsters then attached code that disguised the Grindr banner ad to look like a Roku video ad slot. This fake ad space was sold on programmatic advertising exchanges, the online marketplaces where digital ads are bought and sold. Making one ad unit look like another is called spoofing, and it has been a problem for years. This attack is similar to one revealed by BuzzFeed News and detection firm Protected Media last year. In both cases, cheap banner ads were used to resell more expensive video ads.”

BuzzFeed NewsAd Fraudsters Exploited Grindr In A Scheme Targeting Roku Apps

February 2020 – 404bot that was not a bot. This fraud scheme was called out by DoubleVerify and dubbed “404bot.” However there was no botnet or any bots involved. It was a simple, perennial case of falsified bid requests that even included urls of pages that didn’t exist — a “404” error in web server speak. Fraudsters were “bid flooding” like they did in the 2017 Sportsbot case by sending billions of bid requests with faked urls but real sellerIDs (their own). Even if some or most of these fraudulent bids were caught, some of them would still get through fraud filters. In a game of large numbers, even a small percentage of a very large number would be profitable for the criminals.

The DrumInside the fight against 404bot, the ad fraud scheme exploiting ads.txt

March 2020 – Monarch CTV fraud. “Roku has yet again found itself at the center of an ad fraud scheme that likely cost premium brands and political advertisers upwards of seven figures. Marketers were led to believe their ads appeared against brand-safe content on the streaming service, such as The Three Stooges, when in reality they were buying ads in screensaver apps or apps for lonely pets when their owners aren’t home. Spoofing, or misrepresentation of inventory, occurred on over a dozen apps from at least four different developers.”

AdweekA 7-Figure Ad Fraud Scheme Running on Roku Underlines Murkiness of CTV

April 2020 – Icebucket CTV fraud. “A bot network scheme called Icebucket impersonated more than 2 million people and generated 1.9 billion ad requests on programmatic platforms for connected TV (CTV), the ad verification firm claims it is the biggest CTV ad fraud operation in history. Icebucket counterfeited more than 300 publishers, tricking advertisers into thinking that real people were seeing their ads. Instead, the viewing activity was artificially created with sophisticated bots that impersonated the activities of human beings. Roku confirmed that there wasn’t any Icebucket activity on its platform.” Instead the activity was entirely from “frequently spoofed devices included Roku (46% of fake traffic), Samsung Tizen Smart TV (27%), Google TV (21%) and Android mobile devices (6.1%), per White Ops.”

Marketing DiveRecent CTV ad fraud scheme could be biggest ever

May 2020 – 100% Plagiarized Fake News sites making ad revenue using ad tech. “These phony “news” sites with realistic names and stolen stories aren’t new — they’ve been ripping off publishers and taking advertiser dollars for years. A two-year study by the Incorporated Society of British Advertisers and PwC articulated with new clarity how the digital media ecosystem hemorrhages cash on its way to publishers.” CNBC reporter, Meg Graham, ran her own experiment. “I was curious how bad the problem was. So I did an experiment to see if I could make a site using stories from CNBC and get ad tech partners to agree to show ads on it. It was shockingly easy.” Here’s how she did it.

CNBCTo show how easy it is for plagiarized news sites to get ad revenue, I made my own

June 2020 – DrainerBot and Tekya “DrainerBot is a major mobile ad fraud operation that has infected millions of devices. The malware is distributed through infected consumer apps that can be downloaded on the Playstore. Once a device is infected, DrainerBot will start to continually run video ads in the background of the device unknown to the user. With no visual videos being shown on the device, this bot can often go unnoticed for a long period of time. Each ad that is displayed in the background is recorded as a legitimate view by the advertising network. This means that advertisers are essentially paying money for non-human views without even realizing it.”

PPC ProtectDrainerBot: The Mobile Ad Fraud Operation Stealing Your Data

“The apps were among a small haul of 38 beauty-themed apps the company detected from the same developer which were reported to Google for bombarding users with unwanted ads. As well as serving out of context ads at every opportunity, the apps also sent users to websites and made it difficult to de-install the apps using techniques such as hiding icons from the home screen and apps folder.”

Naked SecurityMore ad fraud apps found hiding on Google Play Store Trend MicroNew Tekya Ad Fraud Found on Google Play

July 2020 – CHARTREUSEBLUR “most of the 29 perpetrating apps used “blur” in the name,” and were found in the Google Play Store. “All of which have since been removed, but not before collecting 3.5 million total downloads. The apps in the fraud network, most of which were photo tools, enabled fraudulent impressions without tripping alarms. The app would load malicious code designed to serve ads and call up fake browser pages outside the user’s control. Ads would display when phones were unlocked or while the phone was charging. Users couldn’t remove the app or even close it down in the background of their phone, because it also removed its icon from the smartphone screen (making it invisible to the human user).”

AdExchangerWhite Ops Uncovers Advanced Mobile App Ad Fraud Scheme | AdExchanger

August 2020 – TERRACOTTA “A family of Android apps showed up on app stores with an enticing offer. ‘Download the app, fill in your details, select a pair of shoes and in 14 days time those shoes will be mailed to your front door, for free.” The real free “product” surreptitiously sent to users was a box-fresh payload of ad fraud malware. A customized Android browser packaged alongside a control module is loaded onto the phone and used to generate fraudulent ad impressions, sold into the programmatic advertising ecosystem, and defrauding advertisers at scale.”

WhiteopsThe Shoe is a Lie: How an Android Botnet Defrauded Advertisers and Consumers

September 2020 – MultiTerra “A new ad fraud scheme targeting premium publishers on connected TVs (CTV) and mobile, dubbed MultiTerra, was stealing roughly $1 million per month from publishers by spoofing their ad inventory. Premium publishers of CTV inventory were particularly vulnerable to this particular attack because their ad rates (CPMs) are so high, making them an efficient target. The botnet was generating over three million fake ad requests per day. A single IP in the botnet impersonated 16 different smart phones, requesting nearly 50 fake impressions on at least 9 different premium publisher apps.”

AxiosMajor ad fraud scheme targets premium publishers

October 2020 – Weasel “The fraud committed was very simple and effective, and despite seeing other fraud prevention vendors’ prebid wrappers existing in the calls, none of them prevented the sale of the traffic. This fraud shows the limits of not only prebid fraud prevention, but also ads.txt and sellers.json. Wease.IM is a Windows desktop application” doing large scale outstream video ad fraud.

MarTech SeriesKubient Discovers New “Weasel” Injection Ad Fraud Scheme

November 2020 – Rise in Ad Fraud Across All Verticals “The research found that fraudsters are not only faking paid installs, but also organic traffic — installs that cannot be attributed to any marketing activities — in order to hide the paid installs they steal. Out of 200 million rejected installs, two thirds of these were organic and only one third paid installs. Data revealed that fake users/bots continue to dominate as the most prevalent fraud type with the US seeing the method make up for 68.7% of its fraudulent activity, China 65.6%, Japan 60.7% and EMEA 47%.”

MarTech SeriesNew Data From Adjust Shows a Rise in Ad Fraud Across all Verticals, With Fraudsters Increasing Faking Organic Metrics

December 2020 – Adrozek Malware “employs an “expansive, dynamic attacker infrastructure” consisting of 159 unique domains, each of which hosts an average of 17,300 unique URLs, which in turn host more than 15,300 unique malware samples. Cybercriminals abusing affiliate programs is not new—browser modifiers are some of the oldest types of threats. However, the fact that this campaign utilizes a piece of malware that affects multiple browsers is an indication of how this threat type continues to be increasingly sophisticated. ”

The Hacker NewsWatch Out! Adrozek Malware Hijacking Chrome, Firefox, Edge, Yandex Browsers

Smart Marketers Ignore the ANA and Don’t Pay for TAG

Smart marketers are taking a harder look at their own data and using analytics to continuously monitor and improve their own campaigns. Ad fraud is real. Ad fraud is rampant. But it doesn’t have to ravage your campaigns, if you look closely and pay attention, and ignore the false messages from the ANA, TAG, and the IAB which claim their programs have successfully lowered fraud. Clearly, they weren’t paying attention to all the ad fraud that made the news, as we reviewed above, and a lot that didn’t and are ongoing. Protect yourself, because no one else will. Be safe out there when buying media in the hinterlands of programmatic ad tech.

Further reading: I’d Give My Ad Budgets to This Marketer, Not to Marc Pritchard

From CMO Network in Perfectirishgifts

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servetolive · 6 years

Note

“Gonna take a risk, gonna take a line.” Data/B4

alright, my turn. super fluffy. also, long af and going all over the place, eventually having NOTHING to do with the prompt.

“I can’t believeyou’re doing this,” Maddox huffed angrily as he burst into his office andheaded for his desk. “For the first time in years, I’m making progress. We’re–”

“Commander.”

Data gave Maddox astern look to let him know that B4 was not negotiable.

“It has been eighteenmonths,” he said. “We agreed on a year.”

Maddox pursed his lipsinto a line.

“Is there anything Ican do to ch–”

“No.”

Maddox sighed andlooked at Data for a moment before he turned to his desk and pulled his draweropen.

“B4 is prone to boutsof depression and anxiety,” he began. Data did not miss the sound ofresignation in his voice as he pulled out a small case and handed it to him,brow furrowed, averting his eyes.

“If he doesn’t comeout of it in a week, give him about a gram and a half. I usually put it in icecream or a soda; he has quite the sweet tooth.”

Data took the case andgave it a puzzled look. Maddox moved over to his terminal, swung the monitoraround, and began typing.

“I’m sending thecontents to you now, as well as his files.” Before Data could ask, Maddox wenton: “Meet me outside at 1700 tomorrow.”

“Commander,” Datasaid, stepping closer to Maddox, lowering his voice.

“Would you agree that‘no contact’ would be best for B4?”

For a moment, Maddox’seyes made contact with just about everything besides Data, before settling onhim tensely.

“Under thecircumstances,” he said, with some resignation. “Yes. I would agree.”

They arrived at 1645, just to be sure. Data made sure to letLore and his daughter know that they were there for support primarily; that he would handle the exchange.

At exactly 1655,Maddox–in civilian clothes, as it was a Saturday–opened the door of theDaystrom, and held it open for Data’s brother. Holding his personal affects ina metal luggage with both of his hands, his shoulders hunched tensely, Maddoxand B4 made their way down the large staircase towards his family.

Lore and Lal stood afew paces back from Data, wearing dark sunglasses, as if it were necessary tohide their suspicion and animosity. It was windy in Sacramento during the fall,and although Lal maintained her severe posture, her hair and black dressbillowed around her.

As B4 approached, hecouldn’t help but notice how he looked: clean, well groomed, with a newoutfit–not a wrap, as he had expected–that was tailored to his specifics. Hischin was tucked into his chest, and he stopped walking some five meters awayfrom the three androids. Maddox, although smartly dressed, seemed tired–as ifhe hadn’t slept, dark bags lining his blue eyes.

Data walked up tothem.

“Little One,” B4 saidsolemnly.

“Big Brother,” hesaid. “Are you ready to go home?”

B4 turned to Maddox,who nodded at him. He looked past Data’s shoulder to his niece and firstyoungest; the former quirked the left corner of her lips up to offer asemblance of encouragement.

“Bruce,” he began.Maddox waited for him to finish, but nothing else came from his mouth.

All of a sudden, B4dropped his belongings and threw his arms around Maddox’s shoulders. Datablinked; Lore and Lal remained still.

Surprised, Maddoxslowly brought his hands up around B4′s back and returned the hug. He pulledhimself away and removed his glasses.

“B4, I–” Maddox turnedto glance past Data at Lore and Lal, whose mouths were firm, hard lines. Helicked his lips and grasped B4′s biceps firmly.

“Take care ofyourself, alright?”

He gave him a pat,which was B4′s signal to go. Data approached Maddox next, but before he couldsay anything, Maddox pocketed his glasses and produced a data rod.

“These are his custody transfer orders. I’ve already beamed theremainder of his belongings to your quarters aboard the Enterprise.”

As B4 walked sullenly,Lore placed an arm around his upper shoulders to usher him away.

Maddox, again, seemedto want to look everywhere except for into Data’s eyes.

“His games andpersonal PADD are with him. He’s particularly fond of the blocks kinetic sand.He likes to play with either one of them for a period of an hour each day,usually after some other mandatory event. If he–”

“Commander,” Datastopped him. This time, his own brow was furrowed. He stepped closer to Maddox,and took the Data rod from his hand, lingering the contact.

“He is in–”

“I know,” Maddoxinterrupted him. Data watched the human’s Adam’s apple bob as he forced anawkward smile. “I know he is.”

Lal moved forwardrapidly to take hold of B4′s belongings, at the same time that Data backedaway. It was all so seamless; like a dance.

“Thank you,Commander,” she said after standing upright with the parcel in her hand.

Maddox turned on hisheel to march back up the steps.

Data put an arm aroundB4′s waist as they walked away. B4 turned over his shoulder multiple times.

Data did once, to seethat Maddox had not looked back a single time.

Now, Lore transmitted to Data through theirwireless connection, We just have to see what that freak did to him.

That day, Lal hadtaken him by his hand and led him to his new room. Data had to request yetanother change of quarters since his family’s collective concern had causedthem to recall his brother from Maddox’s care.

Silent, and with apainful look in his eyes that left both Lal and Lore distraught, B4 onlyflopped on his bed, curled into himself, and immediately put himself into sleepmode.

For the next threeweeks, they had tried everything.

Lore came in, stroked B4′s head, tried to read Stuart Little to him. B4 did not react, but juststared at the ceiling.

Lal tried a differentapproach. She rushed into his room every evening after classes, excitedlytelling him about her day. When he didn’t respond, she pretended that he didanyway, and sat with him as she did her homework.

Data tried too. Atfirst he tried talking about the adventures he had on the bridge, then he triedtalking about the different people he interacted with from day to day. Then hetried with simple interrogatives, carefully avoiding the topic of Maddox.Nothing.

One day, Data camehome to the sound of B4 sobbing. Lore was standing in the doorway, with adisturbed look on his face as Lal sat on her oldest uncle’s bed, massaging hisback.

“Maybe you should callhim, Uncle B,” she said, looking directly at her father for help.

“I already tried,” B4said. “He won’t answer.”

Turning away from thedoor, Lore sneered to Data in passing:

“I’m telling you, D.That queer did something to him.”

Eventually, he went toDeanna.

“Do you think thatseparating him from Maddox was the best idea?” she asked him, posing herquestion in a careful manner.

Data hummed,considering it carefully.

“Lore, Lal and myselfassumed that it would be the healthiest option.”

“Why?”

Data’s neck servostwitched. How could he convey the concept of a “bad feeling?”

“I am not sure,” headmitted. It was true. He had reviewed all of Maddox’s files on his brother,and could find no substantial reason to believe that any abuse had taken place.“Should I send him back?”

“Absolutely not,” sheadvised, standing up to sit next to Data. “B4 is quite bit different fromyou, Lore, and your daughter. He is more vulnerable in many ways that I don’tunderstand.”

“I am not sure that Iunderstand either, Counselor.”

“Maddox,” thecyberneticist said as he answered Data’s video call. He seemed just as tiredand bitter as he did when he had last met with Data to turn B4 over to him. Hewas also obviously busy.

“Commander, I hope youare well.”

“Captain,” Maddox said. “It’s Captain now.”

“Ah. Congratulations.”

Maddox didn’t quite roll his eyes, but the intent was therejust the same.

“Can I help you withsomething, Commander?”

“As a matter of fact,you can.”

He explained thesituation in detail. Maddox was quiet, but continued to tap commands into hisPADD as Data talked. There was no indication that he had been listening untilhe spoke, his eyes remaining fixed on his work.

“Did you give him adose of the substance I gave you?”

This was an obviousquestion that Data was not entirely prepared to answer.

“Not yet.”

“My instructions wereclear to you, Mr. Data.”

“I was simplywondering if there were—“

“I have to get going,”Maddox sighed. “Itwas good speaking to you.”

He disconnectedwithout saying another word, leaving Data more puzzled than before.

Could he and hisfamily have been wrong?

“Uncle B,” Lalgroaned, pulling on his arm. “Come on, get up and play with me!”

It had been some timeago when Lal had last played with B4 as if they were both children, and Dataknew that his daughter was doing this largely for her uncle’s benefit.

B4 had long sincestopped hiding in his sleep cycle, and lay awake, his pillow stained and greasywith yellow tears.

“Baby Girl, please,”he moaned, turning his face into his pillow. “Leave me alone.”

Lal left B4′s room indespair, the door sliding shut behind her.

Lore moved around toData’s desk and and placed his hands flat against the desk.

“What the fuck do we do?” He said, exasperated.

Data blinked at hisbrother, and reached into his drawer.

“Throw it out,” hisbrother said immediately.

The three of themstood in a circle in Data’s living room, considering the palm-sized containerin hand, full of a thin white powder.

Lal stepped forward to examineit. “Father,” she said. “You said there was nothing harmful in it?”

“Not that I could see; no,” Data responded. “The active ingredients are live nanobits. The rest is chaff.”

Lore considered this for a second, before going to the replicator to order a straw.

“It could be anything,” Lal conceded.

“Only one way to find out.” With the tip of his finger, Lore sliced the plastic into a pipe about three inches long. “I say we all try it first before we give it him.”

It was a sound idea, but before Lore could place the edge of his straw into the powder, Data closed the item shut and put it in his pocket.

“There is evidence,” he explained, to Lore’s annoyance, “That B4 has been exposed to this substance before with positive results. A test is unnecessary.”

Lore snapped his fingers.

“It was made for Big Brother, Lore,” Data said. “Not us.”

B4 referred to it as his medicine. It was the only time in eight weeks that he had sat upright in his bed since he had arrived.

Data carefully measured his dosage. To his surprise, B4 leaned forward and stuck his tongue out for him to sprinkle it onto.

Data had his own reservations about it, but he did it. B4 closed his eyes, stuck his tongue back into his mouth and swallowed.

“Thank you, Little One.” B4 turned over on his bed, turning his back to Data.

Feeling bemused and somewhat useless, Data stood up, dimmed the lights, and left B4′s room for what seemed like the millionth time.

“Time to take her home, her dizzy head is con-sci-ence la-den…”

Data stopped typing at his terminal. It was his off day, but Lal was in school and Lore was socializing. His artificial ear drum tweaked at the strange combination of B4′s well toned voice, and a poorly tuned, off-beat plucking of guitar strings.

“Time to take a ride, it leaves today…”

He poked his head into B4′s room, only to see his older brother give the first smile he had seen since before he had been sent to Daystrom. He was holding Data’s guitar, and had adjusted the pegs on the high E-string so much that it had busted.

“Brother,” Data said, entering to sit in the chair across from B4′s bed. “You are singing Big Empty.”

“Mm-hmm,” he said, happily. “Bruce taught me.”

“You mean, Commander Maddox uploaded a program into your neural net?”

“Mm-mm,” B4 said, smiling down at Data’s guitar. He wasn’t holding it in the most efficient way. He was bearing down on the neck a bit too hard, and when he strummed, it gave a dead, muted sound instead of resonating.

“He taught me. He said it would help me with coordination.” He gave the plectrum a few more random strokes, and sang another verse of the song, playing his guitar off-key and off-beat.

Data tried to tap his foot and nod in time, but it was a fruitless effort.

“We sang together a lot,” B4 said wistfully, when he was done. “You should hear his voice, Little One. It’s very nice.”

Data simply nodded and forced a smile, but voiced a thought.

“Why not sing while I play?” He offered his hand, and B4 gladly handed the neck of the guitar to him.

“I want to sing the last song we played together.”

“Alright.” Data set to repairing the busted string and retuning the guitar. “Do you know what the song is called?”

“And I feel that time’s a wasted go…”

Lal came home, speaking loudly at first, before Lore–leaning against the wall outside of the open door of B4′s room–put a hand to his lips and then waved her in.

She cut on her wireless slave receptor.

What’s going on?

She took up a space on the opposite side, out of sight, and listened to her father strum major chords perfectly and slowly, as her older uncle sang in a strong, steady voice that was altogether foreign and familiar to her.

Is Maddox here??

Shut up!

“Where you goin’ for tomorrow?”

Omg…

“Is it raining in your bedroom?”

Data stayed focused on B4 as he played. He was concentrating hard on each beat, following each strike of his fingers with a percussive strain on his vocal processors. He had heard this song many times before and was attempting to recreate it perfectly, using his friend’s voice.

Do you know this song??

“Got time to wait for tomorrow, to find it..”

It’s called Plush.

The song ended with B4 humming, and then there was a long period of silence.

He should have done it much earlier. It took hardly any time at all for Data to cut on his wireless receiver, and no time at all for B4 to respond to it.

With a neural link established, Data wordlessly stood up, placing the guitar aside, and sat next to his older brother. B4 looked at his hands before transmitting.

Data saw everything. All of the experiments, the interactions with other lab crews, the ups and downs he had with his incongruously developed emotional programming, the final night before the custody transfer.

He was wrong.

They were wrong.

Maddox was there the whole time; rubbing, soothing. Comforting. The final night was the only. They sang

Big Empty

and

Plush

together near the Tower Bridge. Maddox had leaned his head onto B4′s shoulder; they went home, and that’s where the images became stilted–a flash of gold skin here, a white arm there, a bronze nipple there, a patch of hair there, but the soft feeling of organic lips and the moisture of lubricating tears accompanying them the whole way.

B4 said nothing, but a single yellow tear fell from his left eye, in the same way it did the night before his transfer. His lip didn’t quiver, and he didn’t squint his eyes. It was strange.

Mimicking Maddox, Data reached out with his left index finger and lifted the tear away.

He touched me here.

Data reached into B4′s shirt and laid a palm flat against his brother’s chest.

He kissed me.

Data leaned in towards B4, minding to make every move identical to the memory.

B4 was taken aback at first, but pushed his lips against Data’s, shyly at first, and then furiously, each trying to match the record in its entirety.

Data leaned him back onto his smeared pillow and continued his open mouthed delve into his brother’s mouth.

Lal stifled a giggle as Lore–quietly as possible–reached around into the room to touch the control panel. He moved his arm just in time for it to close.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said, offering his niece his arm.

yeah there was kinda supposed to be more, including a bar scene with Geordi and the others and a reunion or some shit but i’m like “goddamn that’s enough already” XD

#the monster and the idiot #b4/maddox #data/b4 #lore soong #lal soong #data soong #fic #szechuan-dipping-sauce #fluff #sfw #unfinished #way too fucking long #dude i'm drunk #stone temple pilots #songfic

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gta-5-cheats · 6 years

Text

Samsung Galaxy A8+ Review

New Post has been published on http://secondcovers.com/samsung-galaxy-a8-review/

Samsung Galaxy A8+ Review

(adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push();

Nearly a year after the first smartphones with 18:9 screens debuted at MWC 2017, nearly every manufacturer has jumped on board. This kind of design started out as a novelty, quickly became trend, and is now pretty much a mainstay of smartphone design. It isn’t any surprise, since this is the first time in a very long time that phones have looked any different, and people do feel like they’re getting something better and more modern. Phones with 16:9 screens, (and heaven forbid, actual buttons on the front) do now seem old-fashioned.

Samsung gained an early lead with its Galaxy S8 and Galaxy S8 Plus (Review) at the beginning of last year (though it went with 18.5:9 which it calls “Infinity Display”) and then released the Galaxy Note 8 (Review) six months later, but didn’t seem think the rest of its range deserved the update. Meanwhile, its competitors were clambering over themselves to make sure they didn’t fall behind the curve. Over this past year, we’ve seen dozens of new 18:9 phones launching across the price spectrum. The most notable example of that is OnePlus rushing to replace its barely five-month-old OnePlus 5 (Review) with the 5T (Review), just to make sure it didn’t cede even the slightest ground to its competitors.

That makes today’s review subject all the more interesting – the new Galaxy A8+ (2018) is Samsung’s first non-flagship phone to be graced with an Infinity Display, and it’s priced to go right up against the OnePlus 5T. Is Samsung too late to the party, or has it been worth the wait? We’re about to find out.

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Samsung Galaxy A8+ (2018) look and feel

As its name suggests, this is one large phone. Samsung hasn’t launched the smaller Galaxy A8 (2018) in India, which is a pity, because the A8+ (2018) can be a bit of a handful. It’s relatively thick and heavy at 8.3mm and 191g. That weight also feels unbalanced, especially when typing, which requires you to hold the phone from close to the bottom. It will stick out of many pockets and generally make itself felt wherever you try to stash it.

Samsung has listed two colour options for this phone, black and gold. We had a black unit for review and with the removal of buttons from the front face, it looks really plain and monolithic. The front and back are both shiny glass, though only the back curves around the matte black metal frame. While some might like this look, others will prefer the gold version which has a black front face and camera module providing a bit of visual relief.

The front face is broken only by the earpiece and dual front cameras right near the upper edge. When the phone is on, Samsung’s Always-On Display readout is splashed across the screen, taking advantage of the sAMOLED panel’s ability to selectively light up pixels without consuming a lot of power. By default, there’s a large clock, the date, the battery level, and four icons representing your most recent notifications. You can choose different clock styles and hide other information, or only enable the Always-On Display between hours of your choosing.

The power button is on the right, and the phone’s single mono speaker is positioned right above it – an unusual position, but one that Samsung has been using on multiple models of late. On the left, there’s a volume rocker and a tray for the primary Nano-SIM. The second Nano-SIM as well as a microSD card fit in another tray that slides into the top. There’s also a USB Type-C port and a 3.5mm audio socket on the bottom. An advantage of the all-black look is that the antenna lines are barely visible.

The primary camera is in the upper middle of the rear, with a single-LED flash to the side and small, rectangular fingerprint sensor right below it. Unusually for phones these days, the camera doesn’t protrude at all. There’s a surprisingly subtle Samsung logo lower down, and some barely visible regulatory text at the bottom.

One feature that we’re always happy to have is weatherproofing, and the Galaxy A8+ (2018) is certified IP68 for water and dust resistance. The SIM trays are flanged with rubber to prevent ingress. However, there’s no mention of whether the glass is reinforced, which is concerning.

Samsung’s Galaxy A-series phones are meant to be more affordable versions of the current reigning S-series flagships, in this case the Galaxy S8 and S8 Plus. The Galaxy A8+ (2018) inherits many of their design cues, but it doesn’t look quite as slick or refined. It’s a bit too bulky and awkward to handle, and in fact it more closely resembles last year’s oversized Galaxy C9 Pro (Review). In fact, with its pricing and specifications, it serves the same market. In terms of look and feel alone, it doesn’t really stand out compared to the competing OnePlus 5T or Honor View 10 (Review) either.

Samsung Galaxy A8+ (2018) specifications and software

Samsung usually plays it conservatively with specs outside its flagship tier, but with this launch, it’s hoping to take on upstarts like OnePlus and Honor. The Galaxy A+ (2018) uses Samsung’s brand new Exynos 7885 SoC, which has two high-speed 2.2Ghz ARM Cortex-A73 cores and six supplementary 1.6GHz Cortex-A53 cores, plus an integrated ARM Mali-G71 GPU. There’s 6GB of RAM, and the only Samsung phones to ship with so much before now have been the Galaxy Note 8 and the aforementioned Galaxy C9 Pro.

You get 64GB of storage, of which about 51GB is available to users. MicroSD card support goes up to 256GB. Because of Samsung’s unique 18.5:9 aspect ratio, the screen resolution is 1080×2220, giving you a tiny bit more height than the 1080×2160 that you get at 18:9. It measures 6 inches diagonally but the corners are rounded for aesthetic purposes, so you lose a little screen space.

The Galaxy A8+ (2018) also features dual-band Wi-Fi ac, Bluetooth 5, NFC, GPS, and 4G with VoLTE. There’s a rich complement of sensors, including a barometer and gyroscope in addition to the standard ambient light and proximity sensors. The battery comes in at 3500mAh which is the least we’d expect for a phone this large. Fast charging is supported, but not wireless charging.

This phone and its smaller siblings are Samsung’s first to feature dual front cameras. There’s one with a 16-megapixel sensor and another with an 8-megapixel sensor, and both have F/1.9 apertures. The rear camera is a 16-megapixel unit with an f/1.7 aperture. While most companies boast upfront about how a second camera is different in terms of its lens or sensor’s capabilities, we had to dig through Samsung’s documentation to discover that the second lens is intended to deliver better low-light performance. Surprisingly, video recording tops out at 1920×1080. There’s also no optical image stabilisation for any of the cameras.

Samsung ships the Galaxy A8+ (2018) with Android 7.1.1 which is disappointing in 2018. The Samsung Experience skin on top is beginning to get as bloated as the company’s reviled TouchWiz UI from years past. At first boot, we were allowed to choose which Samsung apps we wanted installed. We were happy to ditch Samsung Email, Samsung Notes, and Samsung Internet Browser, but there was no way to know what exactly Samsung Connect and Samsung Members are. It’s also surprising that Samsung Voice Recorder and Samsung Pay are optional apps – these should be part of the phone’s core experience.

On the homescreen, there’s a giant My Galaxy widget showing off the phone’s various features and advertising services such as ordering a meal or taxi and paying bills. You need to sign up with your phone number, but when we tried it we didn’t receive the required one-time password by SMS for hours. Unfortunately, you have to register for My Galaxy if you want to be able to find a phone service centre and book an appointment, or chat with tech support.

Samsung’s Bixby voice assistant takes up a page to the left of the first homescreen and requires you to create a Samsung account which is a separate process. Interestingly, the Galaxy A8+ doesn’t get Bixby as a voice assistant – you only get reminders of your upcoming calendar appointments and panels for things like the weather and news. There’s no Bixby key on the side of the phone, and long-pressing the Home button brings up Google Assistant (or S-Voice if you choose) so Bixby as a feature isn’t the same as it has been advertised on Samsung’s flagships.

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There’s more bloat around every corner – Samsung has tried to transform even the humble Contacts app into a social network with sharable status updates and profile pictures. The Samsung Gallery creates “stories” and multiple apps want you to use a “customisation service” which collects your stored contacts and tries to determine which people you are closest to, for undefined reasons. Opera Max and a bunch of Microsoft apps are preinstalled whether you want them or not. The default system keyboard is customisable in many ways and supports transliteration into Hindi, Tamil and Telegu which could actually be useful.

In the Settings app, you’ll find options to manage the full-screen scaling for apps that can’t handle it natively, the on-screen Android navigation buttons, fingerprint sensor gestures, a one-handed mode, “Dual Messenger” apps (cloning apps to allow you to use multiple accounts), Samsung Cloud syncing, and split-screen multitasking.

Samsung Galaxy A8+ (2018) performance, cameras and battery life

The Galaxy A8+ (2018) has some powerful hardware and for the most part it runs without any problems. Large games load quickly, and the phone doesn’t get too warm at any point. However, there were tiny hiccups on rare occasions, when we felt the UI behave a little sluggishly or touch input didn’t seem to register. Hopefully, periodic software updates will iron these kinks out, because usage was otherwise perfectly fine.

Samsung’s new mid-range processor is fairly powerful, and delivered scores of 78,359 in AnTuTu, 5,192 in PCMark Work 2.0, and 1,525 and 4,349 respectively in Geekbench’s single-core and multi-core runs. 3DMark’s Slingshot test gave us 1,069 points, and GFXBench’s T-rex test ran at 31fps. We can definitely see that this phone isn’t on the same level as the similarly priced OnePlus 5T and Honor View 10, but should still be able to handle most apps and games.

The Infinity Display doesn’t look quite as “infinite” on this phone as it does on Samsung’s flagships, because instead of glass curving around the sides of the phone, there are still distinct edges. Even so, it’s immersive and vibrant. Brightness isn’t a problem even outdoors, and all kinds of content look pretty crisp and enjoyable. The odd placement of the speaker turned out to be a good thing, because it’s hard to block when holding this phone in any orientation and it doesn’t get muffled with the phone lying on soft surfaces. Sound is loud and voices are clear, but music comes out a bit too harsh for our liking.

One feature of the Galaxy A8+ (2018) that Samsung is promoting heavily is face recognition. This isn’t the same as the iris recognition feature on Samsung’s top-end phones, but is much more like what you’d get with the OnePlus 5T. In our experience, it just didn’t work well, either failing completely or taking more than five seconds to unlock the phone every time we tried it. This was despite trying to enrol our faces multiple times to account for poor lighting or angles. There’s an option to make recognition quicker by reducing the security threshold, which we obviously do not recommend. It’s best to just forget that this feature is even there.

The camera app is a little bloated with stickers (some of which are live and animated with sound), filters, and Bixby Vision for object and place recognition. It isn’t immediately clear how you’re supposed to switch between the two front cameras – there’s a Live Focus mode shortcut right within the viewfinder which lets you take shots with background blur, and then there’s a Wide Selfie mode in the hidden menu that you have to swipe right to see. In both cases, there doesn’t seem to be much of a difference in the composition of frames when using the secondary camera. In Wide Selfie mode you still have to physically pan the phone from side to side, whereas other phones have a wide-angle lens that just gives you a wider frame.

This might be Samsung’s first phone with dual front cameras, but there really doesn’t seem to be anything that really takes advantage of the second sensor. Live Focus gave us some fairly decent-looking results, and the phone lets you adjust the degree of background blur from the gallery app long after taking a shot. As far as the promise of low-light performance goes, we couldn’t see much of a difference there either.

As for photos taken with the rear camera, results were a bit weak. If there was even lighting, the Galaxy A8+ (2018) managed well, though we would still have liked to see better handling of details and exposures. Objects at even a slight distance came out looking artificial, with noisy textures, rough edges, and overblown whites. At night, things took a drastic turn for the worse. If there wasn’t a lot of artificial light falling directly on a subject, the phone could barely pick out any details whatsoever. Even on the phone’s bright sAMOLED screen, it was clear that there was a ton of noise, and that you just couldn’t see things even if you were standing right in front of them. We weren’t expecting camera quality to be on par with that of the Galaxy S8, but this was totally disappointing.

Tap to see full-sized Samsung Galaxy A8+ (2018) photo samples

In another big surprise for a phone at this price level, video recording only goes up to 1080p with the rear as well as front cameras. You can choose the slightly wider custom resolution of 2224×1080, which at least doesn’t crop your frames in order to fill the screen, but Samsung wisely decided not to make this the default selection. There is digital stabilisation but not optical.

Battery life was good overall, and we were able to get through a full day of normal usage with about 15 percent left over. Our HD video loop battery test ran for 12 hours, 52 minutes which is not too bad for a phone with a screen this size to light up. We found that the phone charged up to 50 percent in slightly over half an hour, which is also good. Wireless charging isn’t supported, in case you were wondering.

Samsung Galaxy A8+ (2018) in pictures

Verdict

Samsung is at risk of becoming a slow, lumbering giant that cannot keep up with its nimble competitors. There’s no reason for it to have waited this long to release an updated premium-tier model, and the Galaxy A8+ (2018) is in a bit of an awkward position. It isn’t very convincing when seen next to the OnePlus 5T and Honor View 10, especially because of the features and capabilities that Samsung still reserves for its flagships.

We don’t know who the company is targeting with this phone, other than people who like large screens and blindly trust the Samsung brand. We don’t think the new Galaxy A8+ it’s strong enough to fend off the OnePlus 5T at exactly the same price. Camera quality is severely disappointing, and the half-hearted implementation of dual front cameras just leaves us confused. Despite its Infinity Display, the phone’s design doesn’t really scream for attention, and software bloat is another area of concern.

Samsung needs to figure out how to give its phones at this price level a strong identity and build on unique capabilities such as Samsung Pay, because the Galaxy A8+ (2018) definitely can’t compete on specifications and cost. Right now, the Galaxy S7 is more attractive and has a lower price. The Galaxy S8 is also soon to be replaced, which means it will become more affordable as well.

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