[ 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.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
"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.