[ he understands, from documentation and from an abortive attempt of his own to draw on his extended cultivation base, that while he maintains his strength, his agility - things he's trained for years to possess ( that mo xuanyu, had trained to possess ), his core is out of his reach. raising the dead may be an impossibility now, but controlling the living isn't.
why the change of heart ]
I died, mister Markus. I can't say it puts things into perspective, dying alone and vilified by the world, but it really makes one take a look at their legacy and realize: oof, I think I'll try to do better, with this second chance.
[There is a faint pang of empathy at that, a parallel running of circumstances that his own mind flickers back to. He should have died, too, that night -- waking up, sodden in mud and broken, surrounded by the corpses of other androids tossed away much like himself.
It does shift a perspective, he'd argue, sometimes in illuminating ways.]
That says a lot for your character, you know. "Dying alone and vilified" can inspire less flattering characteristics in lesser men.
[He thinks there might've been a healthy dose of regret involved, too, but Markus won't say that much.]
[ thought-to-text even captures his sounds of assent, it seems. ]
Oh my gosh, you're such a charmer! How flattering of you to think so highly of little ol' me. I was a terrible person, mister Markus. Even though I've got a new body now, I think parts of me are still prone to remembering bad habits. What about you, though? You were an android. I felt what it was like, just a little.
Did it feel like dying, when you found yourself made of flesh and blood?
I'd prefer to judge people based on how they move forward with their lives, rather than what they've left behind.
[In other words, he might've been a bad person, but Markus presides over faith rather than doubt. It's no different now.]
I don't know how to explain it. There aren't words to describe how that first day went, when I arrived here.
[But he can try.]
Imagine all of your nerves kept tightly packed, and then suddenly ripped free and strung out for miles. Picking up every little sensation, every feeling, ones you were never built to process. Like being stretched too thin with no filter, and no choice but to accept it all in a rush.
Overwhelming, in other words. Not like dying, but like being expanded. A different kind of sensate.
[ he remembers, piecemeal, how stifling it had been - caught in a body so numb to pressure and sensation, inside of markus's dream. how eager he had been to force himself through, scared of the commands and the way it would have been so easy to follow them. he'd rebelled, only because he had been aware of who he was. what was it like, for markus-of-flesh to have had a moment to return to himself, as he'd always been, only to wake afterwards in flesh again? ]
I'm surprised you weren't driven insane, coming into such an overwhelming existence so suddenly. Wen Ning -- he said it was the opposite, when he woke up. Life had become an exercise in numbness, his muscles had decayed. Smiling was no longer a thing that came easy to him, though his emotions were still all intact. I had to work his muscles daily, to make sure they didn't lock up overnight. And he was the most perfect of them all.
When I died, I just -- I remember tearing apart. Like paper, or thinly-sliced meat for a hotpot.
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no subject
[ he understands, from documentation and from an abortive attempt of his own to draw on his extended cultivation base, that while he maintains his strength, his agility - things he's trained for years to possess ( that mo xuanyu, had trained to possess ), his core is out of his reach. raising the dead may be an impossibility now, but controlling the living isn't.
why the change of heart ]
I died, mister Markus. I can't say it puts things into perspective, dying alone and vilified by the world, but it really makes one take a look at their legacy and realize: oof, I think I'll try to do better, with this second chance.
no subject
[There is a faint pang of empathy at that, a parallel running of circumstances that his own mind flickers back to. He should have died, too, that night -- waking up, sodden in mud and broken, surrounded by the corpses of other androids tossed away much like himself.
It does shift a perspective, he'd argue, sometimes in illuminating ways.]
That says a lot for your character, you know. "Dying alone and vilified" can inspire less flattering characteristics in lesser men.
[He thinks there might've been a healthy dose of regret involved, too, but Markus won't say that much.]
You should be proud.
"lesser men" suck it ardyn
[ thought-to-text even captures his sounds of assent, it seems. ]
Oh my gosh, you're such a charmer! How flattering of you to think so highly of little ol' me. I was a terrible person, mister Markus. Even though I've got a new body now, I think parts of me are still prone to remembering bad habits. What about you, though? You were an android. I felt what it was like, just a little.
Did it feel like dying, when you found yourself made of flesh and blood?
ehuehue dragging my own character
[In other words, he might've been a bad person, but Markus presides over faith rather than doubt. It's no different now.]
I don't know how to explain it. There aren't words to describe how that first day went, when I arrived here.
[But he can try.]
Imagine all of your nerves kept tightly packed, and then suddenly ripped free and strung out for miles. Picking up every little sensation, every feeling, ones you were never built to process. Like being stretched too thin with no filter, and no choice but to accept it all in a rush.
Overwhelming, in other words. Not like dying, but like being expanded. A different kind of sensate.
no subject
[ he remembers, piecemeal, how stifling it had been - caught in a body so numb to pressure and sensation, inside of markus's dream. how eager he had been to force himself through, scared of the commands and the way it would have been so easy to follow them. he'd rebelled, only because he had been aware of who he was. what was it like, for markus-of-flesh to have had a moment to return to himself, as he'd always been, only to wake afterwards in flesh again? ]
I'm surprised you weren't driven insane, coming into such an overwhelming existence so suddenly. Wen Ning -- he said it was the opposite, when he woke up. Life had become an exercise in numbness, his muscles had decayed. Smiling was no longer a thing that came easy to him, though his emotions were still all intact. I had to work his muscles daily, to make sure they didn't lock up overnight. And he was the most perfect of them all.
When I died, I just -- I remember tearing apart. Like paper, or thinly-sliced meat for a hotpot.