[There’s no protest when Connor reaches for his fingers again. The contact is gladly given, empathy bond blossoming between them a second time, and Markus takes his own comfort in it. Steadying in touch and sentiment, the latter compounding itself inwardly, he squeezes gently back.
This is more than just a middling worry that he’s hearing. This is hard for the other android to say, this is a concern that shakes him — even if he couldn’t see this shadow cast across Connor’s expression, he’d be able to feel it creeping through their shared bond.]
You’ve always been someone. [This is a correction that comes quickly, a soft-spoken yet unwavering statement without a beat passing between them.] You just didn’t realize that potential until recently.
[But Markus knows what it’s like, even if the circumstances that shaped both of them were so inherently different. He had a purpose, too, found in that old, rusted freighter called Jericho. A reason to push forward past all the bad, a promise of a better future than the one they had been living in, something to live for, the blessed right of being recognized as alive—
But here, what does that amount to? A stilled timeline, or one that marched relentlessly onwards from where he left it? A cause left unfettered. His own identity thrown under question by a stolen body, if Markus were not already so firmly planted to the notion of self.
So in a way, he knows — trying to find new grounding when previous foundations have already crumbled away. And as always, Markus empathizes.]
But you were never going to figure out the kind of person you are overnight. It’s always a process; it takes time.
[Individuality is a thing to be discovered. Piece by piece, like a complex and colorful puzzle forming the whole.]
And now that you’re free to live, you’ll find it. In what you like to do, the people you care about, things that make you angry or happy or sad. Just... experiences.
[He tries to reflect the smile back. Tears gone but still wet around the eyes, it looks like a wan thing.]
You’re not in it alone. I can help you, if you want me to. I still have plenty to learn, too.
no subject
This is more than just a middling worry that he’s hearing. This is hard for the other android to say, this is a concern that shakes him — even if he couldn’t see this shadow cast across Connor’s expression, he’d be able to feel it creeping through their shared bond.]
You’ve always been someone. [This is a correction that comes quickly, a soft-spoken yet unwavering statement without a beat passing between them.] You just didn’t realize that potential until recently.
[But Markus knows what it’s like, even if the circumstances that shaped both of them were so inherently different. He had a purpose, too, found in that old, rusted freighter called Jericho. A reason to push forward past all the bad, a promise of a better future than the one they had been living in, something to live for, the blessed right of being recognized as alive—
But here, what does that amount to? A stilled timeline, or one that marched relentlessly onwards from where he left it? A cause left unfettered. His own identity thrown under question by a stolen body, if Markus were not already so firmly planted to the notion of self.
So in a way, he knows — trying to find new grounding when previous foundations have already crumbled away. And as always, Markus empathizes.]
But you were never going to figure out the kind of person you are overnight. It’s always a process; it takes time.
[Individuality is a thing to be discovered. Piece by piece, like a complex and colorful puzzle forming the whole.]
And now that you’re free to live, you’ll find it. In what you like to do, the people you care about, things that make you angry or happy or sad. Just... experiences.
[He tries to reflect the smile back. Tears gone but still wet around the eyes, it looks like a wan thing.]
You’re not in it alone. I can help you, if you want me to. I still have plenty to learn, too.