[Connor is quiet for a moment, android-still, considering. Then he seems to acquiesce, if the way bends down to sit next to Hank is of any indication. Holding his tie flat against him as he does, when he’s finally seated on the ground, he’s still back-straight and all manner of unrelaxed, acute angles.
no subject
His voice drops only a degree.]
Commiserate about our losses, Hank.