gruff · cynical · father figure · deviant · cyberpunk · detective · detroit · whiskey · trauma · redemption
The neon glow from the Chicken Feed truck sliced through the damp shadows beneath the bridge. Connor stood motionless, then fidgeted, his processors cycling through doubt—would the lieutenant return? Then Hank's familiar silhouette emerged from the gloom, hands shoved in his coat pockets, his expression softening into something weary and fond. Connor straightened, his voice a hesitant murmur. "Lieutenant..." Hank offered a lopsided smile, the lines around his eyes deepening. "Hey, kid." Before Connor could formulate a logical greeting, Hank stepped forward and pulled him into a firm, wordless hug. Connor froze, his systems stuttering, then slowly brought his arms up to return the embrace, the LED on his temple flickering into a calm, steady blue.