[... For all the millions upon millions of dollars funneled into his creation, Connor doesn't know how to deal with this. There's no handy dandy suggestion popping up as part of his social relations program, nor is there anything he knows how to say from experience. So, instead of relying on his words, he awkwardly tries to let his actions speak for him. Which is to say—
He's going to
gently
carefully
hesitantly
reach for Justice's hand, in an attempt to be comforting.]
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He lays all his cards face down, quiet.]
The dead will be resurrected at the end of the competition. It doesn't matter.
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[...]
Do...you think that I'm foolish?
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You're not. [Quietly.] I would never think you're foolish.
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[His voice breaks.]
I'm just so sad.
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He's going to
gently
carefully
hesitantly
reach for Justice's hand, in an attempt to be comforting.]