But time marches on, and who I was in those halcyon days isn’t who I am now. In some ways, that’s for the best.
[It does little for grief, for homesickness, for the longing for a more comforting time when he could talk to Carl. It wasn’t even that long ago. But dwelling on it — giving himself space to breathe and reflect — is detrimental. So Markus doesn’t.]
What did you do in your world, if you don’t mind me asking?
[ 70 years from now or nearly 500 years ago, an older Peggy Carter said: the world has changed and none of us can go back. All we can do is our best. She doesn't say it now, but a similar sentiment crosses her mind. Then they move on. ]
Law enforcement.
[ Her standard answer of working for the telephone company can't apply here. And while she won't admit to working in the intelligence community or being the future founder of the organisation later known as SHIELD, she can offer the next best thing and one that is still very true. ]
Although I spent the better part of the past few years doing administrative work.
[ Filing... fetching coffee... ]
Edited (omg same icon im sorry) 2019-02-06 15:11 (UTC)
[Law enforcement. Certainly believable enough, given all that he had seen from her during their operation. A cool head, coupled with tactical thinking and the ability to adapt on the fly — or at least adapt as much as the armored, machine-like soldiers, cold and swift, would allow.
Later, perhaps, her continued association with Fitz might make him question the simplicity behind the reply of law enforcement. But not enough time or association has passed quite yet for that to transpire.]
Administrative work? A definite waste of your talents, according to what I've seen.
And the truth of the matter being that you lost literal centuries instead.
[1947. Just after the end of a great war. He doesn't have to draw up what he knows of that zeitgeist of that time period to confirm what she's said is true.]
For what it's worth, you've been adjusting well. And at least it seems like no one will scoff at your ambitions because of your gender here. Your success should be defined only by your own efforts, ideally.
[ What he says touches her. It may be a common attitude in the future but not so in her own present. Her colleagues only just began to appreciate her contributions and hard work and it was as hard-won then as it was during the war. But here? ]
It is refreshing to have one less obstacle out of the way. We'll see what happens when my work is allowed to speak for itself with little bias.
That's either very high praise, or you're assuming that much of my android heritage has transitioned itself into this body. Unfortunately that isn't the case.
Because a multitude of my functions, defining me as an android, are gone now. I could move faster, think faster, calculate and preconstruct scenarios instantly, could run several billion billion basic operations within the confines of my own programming in just seconds.
But the human brain doesn’t work in the same way. I’m lucky now if I can multitask two things at once.
In your own time. The human brain may be slower than a computer, but historically speaking, the first computers were in fact human. And we couldn't have won the war without them.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not trying to insult the human mind or condition. Only that my mind being in this body feels like... trying to fit a round peg in a square hole.
I wouldn't exist at all if it weren't for human ingenuity. Credit where it's due.
It’s possible for an android to upload their memories and experiences to the equivalent of a cloud server, if they’ve been given the right permissions to do so. But it isn’t a common practice. Still, from there, they can be downloaded into a new body made to house those same memories.
[Markus never had access to CyberLife’s internal services in that way — he merely relays to what Connor had mentioned once, the other android harboring a far more direct connect to CyberLife at the time.]
But that isn’t remotely the same as transferring what’s essentially a large suite of complicated programming into an organic human mind. It should be impossible, and that’s not even accounting for the fact that this body looks exactly like my old one.
[He never had DNA. What was there to clone from? To replicate from? Only lines of code, something that can’t twist itself into double helixes without the application of something unfathomable.]
[ She won't pretend that she understands half of what he says, although she's quick enough to parse the meaning from context and being in this world for a few weeks now. She is constantly learning, trying to catch up to a time so beyond her own, but even she can tell that Markus' experience is an unfathomable one. ]
Perhaps what's impossible in your world isn't unheard of in others. I don't just mean this one, but I can't help but wonder after the rest. Being granted abilities like ours is another point that varies across universes. I think it's safe to say whatever rules we're used to playing by no longer apply in New Amsterdam.
Yes. Though inquiring about others’ experiences so far have come up with nothing.
[Not to say the possibility doesn’t exist. There’s a lot that’s impossible about them all converging into this one universe, beyond his own personal concerns of his body gone missing.]
One more mystery to add to a growing list. Considering it an on-going investigation on my part for now.
All of us searching for answers and not one concrete find in months, by my estimation. If I didn't already have a headache, I'd say this is giving me one.
Sooner rather than later would be nice. Ideally before we all stick our necks out on the line again. Charging into an operation half-blind and half-cocked will only get people hurt.
Of course. But something tells me this group of ours is always going to rush in to help other people when needed, dearth of information notwithstanding.
[It’s something of a habit the displaced have fallen into. Markus can’t criticize, of course — he’s one of them.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[ She hasn't had a day off since Pearl Harbour. It's been longer than the handful of weeks she's spent in New Amsterdam. ]
Do you miss it?
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But time marches on, and who I was in those halcyon days isn’t who I am now. In some ways, that’s for the best.
[It does little for grief, for homesickness, for the longing for a more comforting time when he could talk to Carl. It wasn’t even that long ago. But dwelling on it — giving himself space to breathe and reflect — is detrimental. So Markus doesn’t.]
What did you do in your world, if you don’t mind me asking?
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Law enforcement.
[ Her standard answer of working for the telephone company can't apply here. And while she won't admit to working in the intelligence community or being the future founder of the organisation later known as SHIELD, she can offer the next best thing and one that is still very true. ]
Although I spent the better part of the past few years doing administrative work.
[ Filing... fetching coffee... ]
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Later, perhaps, her continued association with Fitz might make him question the simplicity behind the reply of law enforcement. But not enough time or association has passed quite yet for that to transpire.]
Administrative work? A definite waste of your talents, according to what I've seen.
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[ The future is a dizzying, alien place. But there are some pros to the cons. ]
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What year are you from?
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[1947. Just after the end of a great war. He doesn't have to draw up what he knows of that zeitgeist of that time period to confirm what she's said is true.]
For what it's worth, you've been adjusting well. And at least it seems like no one will scoff at your ambitions because of your gender here. Your success should be defined only by your own efforts, ideally.
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It is refreshing to have one less obstacle out of the way. We'll see what happens when my work is allowed to speak for itself with little bias.
[ Come through, City Hall. ]
What about you?
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[Peggy’s smart, possesses a commanding presence, and Markus has no doubt that she works as fiercely as she fights. City Hall better pull through.]
2038. I’m very outdated technology here.
[Ah, that’s an android joke.]
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That's either very high praise, or you're assuming that much of my android heritage has transitioned itself into this body. Unfortunately that isn't the case.
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But the human brain doesn’t work in the same way. I’m lucky now if I can multitask two things at once.
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In your own time. The human brain may be slower than a computer, but historically speaking, the first computers were in fact human. And we couldn't have won the war without them.
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I wouldn't exist at all if it weren't for human ingenuity. Credit where it's due.
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Do you have any theories as to how you were changed here? Is that sort of technology possible where you come from?
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[Markus never had access to CyberLife’s internal services in that way — he merely relays to what Connor had mentioned once, the other android harboring a far more direct connect to CyberLife at the time.]
But that isn’t remotely the same as transferring what’s essentially a large suite of complicated programming into an organic human mind. It should be impossible, and that’s not even accounting for the fact that this body looks exactly like my old one.
[He never had DNA. What was there to clone from? To replicate from? Only lines of code, something that can’t twist itself into double helixes without the application of something unfathomable.]
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Perhaps what's impossible in your world isn't unheard of in others. I don't just mean this one, but I can't help but wonder after the rest. Being granted abilities like ours is another point that varies across universes. I think it's safe to say whatever rules we're used to playing by no longer apply in New Amsterdam.
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[Not to say the possibility doesn’t exist. There’s a lot that’s impossible about them all converging into this one universe, beyond his own personal concerns of his body gone missing.]
One more mystery to add to a growing list. Considering it an on-going investigation on my part for now.
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[ Concussions... super fun... ]
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[Even Markus, usually patient, can relate.]
Something will have to give. Eventually. At some point it’s all a matter of probability.
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[It’s something of a habit the displaced have fallen into. Markus can’t criticize, of course — he’s one of them.]
Something easy to take advantage of.
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