dualislogs | (no subject)

WHO: Connor, Crazy Jane (/Dr Harrison), Travis
WHAT: Connor and Dr Harrison use the old-fashioned good-cop-bad-cop routine on Travis, with a twist or two
WHERE: In the tunnels underground
WHEN: ...idk, like now?
WARNINGS: Violence/threat of violence?

It's been a while.

Connor's used bits of his old programming for his own purposes - mostly it helps him fit in or manipulate situations when he needs to - but not for its original intention of interrogation and coercion, and not for a long time with his full capabilities restored to him.

He can scan things again, scan people, know things about them with a glance. It's strange how the chip not only dampened that ability, but made him perfectly comfortable with having his senses somewhat hobbled in such a way. Or maybe that was his own mind compensating for the absence. He doesn't know.

He doesn't look at Dr Harrison as they approach the door behind which Travis has been locked up for a while now. They talked this through. They know what they're doing. His hand is perfectly steady as he reaches for the door handle, and the man who walks into the room...is Connor, but it's a colder version. A version where none of the nerves he's had since they started discussing this are on show - the fear of failure, the reluctance to be who he was programmed to be.

All he's got now is anger.

"Travis Anderson," he says, and he has to suppress hard and fast the strangeness of saying that surname with this kind of contempt. Travis has been in here for a while - there's nothing even resembling comfortable or interesting in the small former storeroom and hopefully that just means he'll break all the faster.

"You might recognise us," he says without bothering to introduce them. "We were actually there in that warehouse the night you brought your new friends. If you'd been two minutes later, I'd have left already. I figured Marie and Mello weren't going to tell us anything. Not about the city, the Head, the Heart. Not a fucking thing."

He crosses his arms. Stares at Travis, part just to freak him out, but partly, too, to scan him - heart rate. Pupil dilation. Stress levels.

"But now we've got you instead."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From where he’s lazily sprawled in a corner of the room, the stone-faced cyborg version of Travis Anderson watches the two figures enter. He says nothing until Connor’s finished speaking, then claps slowly, the gesture heavily laced with sarcasm.

“Nice job,” he says, dryly, “really nice. I bet you only rehearsed that in front of a mirror - what, half a dozen times? The landing’s a little shaky, a bit trite, but - you know, decent introduction. B-plus overall. And yes, of course I know who you are, Connor” - his narrowed eyes flick over to the other figure - “and Jane, or whichever one you are.”

He pauses to nudge his glasses upward. He’s putting up a good front of not being intimidated, but his elevated heart rate likely indicates otherwise.

“If you think I’m going to be more forthcoming than those two idiots” - he practically spits the word - “well, sorry to break it to you, Silicon-For-Brains, but you’re transmitting the wrong data packet.”

Of course, sarcasm. Almost exclusively a defense mechanism meant to shift the power dynamic which makes perfect sense in Travis' situation. He's scared, and he knows his best chance lies in browbeating them until they go away. Dr. Harrison's lips curl into a small smile as she glances at Connor, seemingly amused by Travis' words about him, but Travis has told her something very interesting already: if Connor is Silicon-for-Brains, it's likely Travis has no idea that he's no longer human.

"Is that why you turned them in?" she asks coolly, her calm voice reassuring, trustworthy, safe. "Because you realized how little they know?"

He doesn't even flinch at the sarcasm or the insults. In fact, he tilts his head to the side like it's something interesting he's observing in a subject - which isn't far off the truth. Travis has to know Connor isn't going to be cowed by an attitude - so this is for his own benefit as much as Connor's. Shoring up a mental wall to keep it from crumbling. What's more interesting is the way it's hiding the uptick in his heart rate, the stress level slowly crawling up one percentage point at a time.

"I didn't want to talk to you at all," he retorts, with the slightest glance at Harrison. "I know Vergil in particular's pretty interested in having a little chat with you - I still think we could work something out."

It's not entirely untrue. He's sure if Vergil were alive, he'd be very interested in being alone in a room with Travis for an hour or two. Let Travis think the only reason Connor didn't throw him to a very much alive Vergil was that Harrison convinced him.

"But go ahead," he says, standing at full height and taking a casual step a little closer to Travis, voice cold. "Tell us why you snitched. I'd interested in hearing about that too."

Hey, sometimes being a bit of an asshole is a reward in itself. Travis was usually pretty easy to get along with, unless crossed - and in his mind, that's exactly what the Heart did. They used him for his skills, then left him to the proverbial wolves. Which is the sort of handling that made Travis get mean.

"One, Vergil's an overly ambitious child whose reach far exceeds his grasp, and I have nothing to say to him. Two," he says, shifting his gaze to Dr. Harrison, "I knew they were morons from the start, so no, that's not why I 'turned them in.'" Yes, finger quotes are happening. Back to Connor: "Three, snitching is for preteens and weasel-y side characters in prison dramas. What I did? That's what we adults call a strategic shift of alliance."

Still not answering the overall why, though. But it does reveal that his turn toward working with the Head was entirely intentional.

He believes it's intentional, at least. Dr. Harrison recognizes the bitterness in his words, recognizes what's likely the cause of it: wounded pride, certainly tied to a feeling of insecurity and lack of value that might've recurred throughout Travis's – the real Travis's, that is – life. She gazes at him, frowning. Travis was intelligent, highly capable with technology, but from what she'd heard and observed had no metahuman abilities. If he did they were likely inoffensive tech-related abilities, and he might have previously been frustrated he couldn't accomplish more for the Heart. In capable hands, that frustration wouldn't be difficult to emotionally rewrite into anger, especially after dying as part of the Heart.

She thinks she knows what's going on in his mind, but needs more information.

“Your actions weren't purely based on a desire to preserve your own life,” she says. Her tone is so simple, inoffensive: it's a gentle correction rooted firmly in the truth. That soothing voice is so trustworthy, so easy to listen to. Her advice is so easy to take. “You clearly believe your previous allegiance with the Heart was a mistake. Why did you ally yourself with them in the first place?”

Truth be told, Connor feels a little stupid right now too. But that's partly because he's tapping into something that feels like putting on a mask. It's weird and uncomfortable and he doesn't like it. But it makes Travis's mockery actually hit home, just a little.

Harrison's line of question could help them, so for now, that lets him hang back and observe, lets Harrison press gently and Travis wind himself up venting about whatever the Heart did. It lets Connor scan for any changes in physiology he can pick up and analyse.

He wonders how much of this the real Travis felt. Are these feelings created by the Head's programming, or did the Head's programming merely tap into something that already existed, making him act on his baser impulses?