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Whatever time you need, [Myr assures Connor, more than content to wait on the android. Crookytail is a little less patient despite its initial good showing, uncoiling and undulating over to lean against Myr's legs in the scant time it takes Connor to get his shoes.

At the sound of Connor's returning footsteps, the faun nudges his worm gently away and steps down away from the door to sweep an arm gallantly toward the... Well, mostly toward the wide world.

Crookytail eyes this and gives Myr a nudge in the knees toward the right direction, provoking a huff from the faun.]

Shall we? I'd a mind to walk up to the new garden.

Of course.

[Connor starts to walk, slow so his wormipede can keep up. Being a bit plumper than Crookytail, it's also a bit slower.

He wonders if he should entertain the faun the way he usually would, and wait until they're at the garden before asking what he really wants. Part of him wants to simply get it over with, but he holds off.

He doesn't bother to fill the silence the way he normally would, though. And his distrust hangs between them heavily, making the seconds seem longer than they rightfully should be.]

["Slow" and "quiet" are quite fine by Myr, because they let him take more care in navigating as they walk. Crookytail helps in this endeavor, nudging its Faun with its body now and then to keep him from stumbling into anything.

He's content to walk along with Connor in silence this way for several minutes, though the android's discomfort is evident; finding the right words...isn't always easy.]

I apologize for our last meeting, Connor. I came out very hard against you and didn't consider at all how you might be feeling, in all of this.

[Connor nods despite knowing Myr can't see it.]

You did... but it was nothing I didn't deserve.

[And it was nothing compared to L's scathing words.]

I still intend to speak with Niles. Don't worry.

[He can dread it all he likes, but he'll do it because he promised. He doesn't mention how worried he is about how Niles will react... Myr didn't like that last time.]

[Myr shakes his head at that response (the ornaments on his antlers faintly jingling)--though he doesn't leap in to contradict Connor, letting the android finish speaking instead. Giving himself time to consider his own response, and how it might be received, in a way he hadn't during their last conversation.]

You deserved to know what had happened, [he says, at last,] and how the consequences of what you'd done played out--else how would you learn from them?

But you didn't deserve hostility. You're young, yet, [Myr doesn't know how young, exactly; he'd be startled if he did,] and you've a kind heart. None of what you did was out of malice toward Linden, and I should have kept that in mind better than I did.

[The mention of L makes Connor's head bow sadly, and he sighs softly through his nose.]

I needed to be told. [He agrees, rubbing his hands anxiously together as they walk.] I thought I could fix everyone's problems. Instead I just made them worse.

[He thought he was taking initiative, but in the end... maybe he really is suited to only taking orders. His kind heart has helped nobody.]

You acted out of a kind impulse on the best knowledge you had, [Myr replies, firmly.] But even well-meant lies have a way of poisoning our best intentions.

And, [his voice turns rueful,] you didn't know how committed Linden can be once he's fixated on something.

[Abruptly, he shifts tactics:] When's the last time you spoke to someone outside this whole stupid tangle? Just for the sake of conversation?

[He shrugs with one shoulder. It was before he went to see L.]

A week ago.

[It was the third. He'd met Jaskier, the bard.]

Well, I speak with Hank every day too, but I haven't told him what's wrong...

[He hasn't wanted to. He's too ashamed.]

And the last time you spoke to anyone who you could tell what was wrong?

[Hank is Connor's Bonded, Myr remembers--but well does he know about not discussing things with his Bonded even when they feel too heavy to bear.

The raw emotional feedback could be devastating, some days.]

[Connor looks uncomfortably to the ground.]

I... haven't spoken to anyone about this at all.

[He's kept it bottled up inside, the frustration and sadness building and building. It feels near breaking point now. He's felt pressure behind his eyes, a burning sensation, but he's always shut it down before it can turn into anything. He can't just break down. Not now... not ever. And though he's registered a few alarming spikes in his body temperature when particularly stressed, he hasn't bothered to tell anyone.]

[Oh, Connor.

Myr's not exactly surprised to hear that answer; Connor's of a type that's all-too-recognizable (like looking in a mirror is).

Gently, then:]

Why?

[He feels sadness well up in him again as he speaks, and it carries over to his voice.]

I have nobody to talk to.

[For all the pleasantries and smiles and careful accumulations of "friends", he's been left with none anyway. They've all left.]

I couldn't tell Hank. He- I don't want him to know how badly I messed up.

[He can't know. His opinion of Connor is so important.]

He thinks highly of you and you're afraid to disappoint him.

[It's not a question so much as a diagnosis. Myr wishes he knew Hank well enough to give some reassurance that Connor's fears weren't founded, but he does not; and weak pleasant lies could do far more harm than painful truths.

He breathes out a quiet sigh. Not that Connor hasn't had a surfeit of those lately.]

I don't know I'm much substitute for your Bonded--but would you tell me about it instead?

[He does already know the half of it.

Now that they're in viewing distance of the park, Crookytail breaks away and scrambles ahead in anticipation.]

[Connor nods- the diagnosis isn't wrong. He looks to Myr as they enter the park though, with Trouble doing its best to keep up with Crookytail. It isn't really succeeding, but it's trying so hard.]

You want to hear about it?

[He frowns a little.]

You already know most of it, don't you?

[Crookytail gets several long bounds ahead of Trouble before realizing this isn't much of a race. It stops, then doubles back on itself to rejoin the other wormipede and urge it on.]

I know most of the events, [Myr replies,] but not how you feel about it, or what you're thinking now about your role in all of this.

Though, [more softly,] I've my guesses from how miserable you seem. Do you want to talk about that part of it?

[Connor watches Trouble and decides it definitely needs a bit more exercise. Maybe two walks a day instead of one? In any case, Connor hesitates before nodding, despite Myr being unable to see it. Maybe he needs this.

The words are already spilling out of his mouth before he has a chance to reconsider.]

I feel like a failure.

[The admission stings, and Connor lowers his gaze to watch the wormipedes again.]

And I think the worst part isn't that I failed myself- it's that I failed my friends. I betrayed your trust for no good reason. I let my emotions get the better of me. And I'm sorry.

[Words cannot describe just how sorry he is.]

[Myr cannot look at Connor, but the tilt of his head and twitching of his ears signals his utter focus on what the android's saying.]

You are not a failure, [he says, gently.] You made a wrong choice in trying to protect someone you care about, and hurt yourself in hurting us. And--while it does still hurt, and I can't say anything for Linden--I forgive you for doing it.

How long have you even had emotions, the way we do? [How long had it been since that memory he'd shared with the android?]

[Connor can't tell if the words make him feel better or worse, because he betrayed Myr's trust and here the Faun is, trying to make him feel better. Myr is a good man... Connor doesn't think he deserves his kindness.]

I had only been slowly developing them over the course of the week leading up to my arrival here... So around one year and almost five months.

[It feels like such a long time ago that he arrived here, not knowing what to expect.]

[Oh, it had only been that long.

...it had only been that long.

Myr's eyebrows raise over the top of his blindfold.]

Little spark, [he says, gently,] we mortals--most of us--have had to deal with emotions all our lives and we still make that sort of mistake. How is it fair to expect you to be more perfect than that?

[Little spark? What an endearing nickname... the kind that makes Connor feel cared for despite the fact he doesn't deserve it.]

I was built to be perfect. Humans are fallible, but I was supposed to be... better.

[He winces- it sounds so conceited, but it's what he was programmed to believe. Yes, he broke free of the control over him, but some ideals and habits have stuck with him.]

But I was never programmed to apply emotions to my problems. It's so much harder to do the logical thing when your emotions are pulling you in the opposite direction. I failed in that regard... I let them get the better of me.

[Too bad, Connor, you're getting aggressively cared for.

Myr breathes out a quiet huff at the android's assertion, a noise just constrained from being an unhappy little laugh. Wasn't that exactly what the SQUIP had claimed, too? Of course shems would have the overweening arrogance to believe they could make perfect creatures to guide and guard them.

Of course it wouldn't work, and of course their creations would suffer for it.]

How could imperfect creators make a perfect creation? They've placed an unfair expectation on you, expecting you to be what they aren't.

[Whatever trace of frustrated amusement at Connor's creators might be in Myr's expression melts away to sympathy as the android continues.]

You did get it wrong this time--but you also learned, didn't you? Part of the genius in your Making was that you can learn. You do beautifully at that. Better to focus on what you can take from your mistakes than blame yourself endlessly for making them, little spark.

It really is much harder to think when you're emotional, though. Has no one ever taught you how to do it?

Edited 2020-09-22 04:43 (UTC)

I want to learn without hurting others in the process.

[That would be the ideal scenario... or if he could just download some kind of update to his software that helped him regulate his emotions better.]

But no, nobody has ever taught me how to... cope. It's difficult, sometimes. I have to keep from becoming overwhelmed, or else I could self destruct.

[And staying calm has been exceptionally difficult recently.]

So do we all, but there's no world I've heard of where mortals learn without making mistakes. And mistakes can hurt people.

[There are deeper theological considerations Myr could dwell on here, but that's something for another time.]

So we have to make best use of what we do learn, so none of that's in vain.

[...And then he actually stops walking, the fur on the back of his neck rising in alarm as Connor continues.

Aghast,] You could die if you become too emotional?

[Not precisely a foreign concept to a mage, but shocking even so.]

[Connor stops too, watching Myr as the fur on his neck stands up.]

Yes, unfortunately. I've managed to avoid such a fate so far, but everything... builds up.

[It's not just recent events. There's a backlog of grief there from losing the SQUIP and Justine. Trauma from being tortured in those cells by the Rathmores. He's never addressed any of it.]

It's becoming harder to keep myself stable.

[He smiles slightly, a habit of his meant to appease people, but it's a sad thing- and it's the sadness that carries in his voice.]

Maker's breath, [Myr's voice is a near-whisper.

He turns in Connor's direction, head tipped back as if he'd like to look the android in the eyes. (If he were aimed in the right direction.)]

Am I the first person you've told about this?

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