[Please don’t cut into your own bones, Jason. There’s risk involved in obtaining crucial information about what happened to them — Markus understands that. He knows that sometimes doing bold, dangerous things is simply the requirement for unraveling certain mysteries, or inciting certain modes of change. But there’s a line drawn into the ground that, if one crosses, tosses them into “reckless” territory.
Markus doesn’t want to the consequence of that happen to Jason. To anyone he knows.
The removal of the broken stitches isn’t something the man has to sit through for very long, at least. They slip through skin with relative ease after the initial tug, and soon after Markus is applying that telltale, cool sting of antiseptic, simultaneously mopping up any excess bleeding with an extra cloth.]
It could be installed even deeper. ( idly, eyes turning down to look over his chest. he could have probably done it himself if he kept equipment handy. but this also gives him an excuse to chat with markus, figure out what's going on with him. they're all stuck in this together, information sharing isn't the worst possible idea. instincts tell him that markus is, genuinely, a decent dude.
which means he'll be able to get to shit on the side of the law jason can't. )
Or it's magic in nature, which is probably the more accurate theory.
Magic. [He huffs out the word like it were a piece of the puzzle that doesn’t fit into the equation.] Well. Why not?
[Blood cleaned well enough, it’s time to prepare the needle and thread, his motions automatic and as complete as before.]
We live in a sci-fi novel, why not twist it into a fantasy one as well? [The quirk of his lips upward, but humor is a decidedly lacking thing.] I forget that the concept is more... real in other worlds than it is in mine.
Back where I come from, they've always been mixed together. Hell, shit turns from sci-fi to fantasy to mythological in moments.
( spoken low, as to not jostle his chest too much as markus works. jason does have the tendency to get--loud. boisterous. that's not going to help when someone's getting ready to shove needles and threads into him. )
Magicians, telekinetic aliens, Martians, Gods, everything. Every time you think you've finally figured shit it, something else comes up and throws it all off. You get used to it.
[Ironically, the most that might fall under the category of ‘fanatical’ in Markus’ version of Detroit were the prevalence of highly advanced androids. For reasons that don’t need to be reiterated, this is just baseline normal for someone like him. For anyone who might originate from his world.
So what Jason says, all this about aliens and magic and gods, has his imagination kicking up into gear, twisted up in the feeling of disbelief. In the interim, the needle pricks and works into his skin, dutifully closing up what had been broken prior.
Boisterous as his “patient” might be, Markus is a calm, collected quiet. His words sound contemplative.]
I guess I’m not surprised. After what you told me.
[Coming back to life. Magic, indeed — or something like it.]
So— ‘you get used to it’. A situation like his, rife with inter-dimensional kidnapping, are you used to it? Why not take a moment to relax and stop cutting into your sternum, if that’s the case? Just a suggestion.
( his intentions of remaining still are momentarily ruined as jason tilts his head back, barks out ugly, heaving laughter in response. he gets markus' intention behind what he's saying. but it still doesn't make the words funny as shit. god. how cute. color him infatuated, markus is so fucking. hell if he knows the right word for this. )
You get used to that too, Markus. ( voice a little softer once he's gotten the chance to calm himself down. teasing, ) I can't remember the last time I didn't at least have a few bruises.
( it's. not a lie. between training, testing himself, all the goddamn fights jason gets himself into--a few surgical cuts isn't going to make a difference. bodies heal. and this was better to get out of the way earlier than later, considering where he intends to start exploring once he is in one piece again. )
'sides. Gives you an excuse to feel me up, doesn't it?
( jason doesn't imagine that's it at all, but he has to poke a little fun. )
[He has to still his movements when Jason grants him a laugh. Is patient enough to do so, at least, though it gains him A Look.]
You're right. That's exactly why I'm doing this, Matches. Because I want to 'feel up' blood and broken skin as I stitch you back together.
[He'd have to be deaf to miss that edge of sarcasm, good-natured as it is.]
Stay still. I'm not done yet. [Waiting for Jason to do just that, he'll continue.] So what is it you do, exactly, back home? If you had to put a label to it?
Demanding. ( but he stills fast enough. relaxes back against the wall, lets markus get back to work. clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, considers how exactly he wants to respond to that question )
Ask anyone in the underground, I was a crimelord. ( overtook numerous drug rings and instilled his own set of rules into them. fucked with suzie su's shit, black mask's. . ) So, that.
[A crime lord. Now there’s an admission rarely heard, or not at all. But the phrasing doesn’t escape his notice, and Markus deems it as an unsatisfactory answer, trying again.]
I’m not asking them. I’m asking you.
[One final throw of a stitch, and then he’s snipping away the excess thread. He’s done for now, as long as Jason doesn’t undo his work again in the next hour.]
( markus catches onto the small details and jason hasn't decided yet if he likes it or not. lying is easy. but pointless, here. especially when markus has proven to be a good ally to have at his back. the kind of overly helpful nerd who shows up at the drop of a hat when someone asks for help.
and he's hot. that helps, too.
the association with damian and dick is what worries him. they can't hide that shit for long. damian hasn't been secretive. )
I take down assholes who think they're better than others. ( that's. one way to word it. ) 'cause there's nothing I hate more than overgrown egos.
[Overly helpful nerd. Is Jason already onto the fact that Markus is harboring a hidden nerd deep within the confines of his soul? Parody or not, maybe he’s not too far off the mark, despite (or in tandem with?) his demeanor.
Sometimes being handsome helps, though. Even if Markus would never really be so vain to ascribe it so blatantly to himself.]
...I remember what you told me. That day when the sickness had taken over my rational thought.
[His hands work automatically again, this time taking on the simple task of cleaning up any residual blood still clinging to Jason’s skin.]
Asking me if I was a person like that. The sort that took pleasure in taking advantage over the weak, looking at me as if I might’ve been a problem that needed dealing with.
[It’s not an attempt at guilting him. It’s only Markus’ sharp recollection of the event. ]
You’re idealistic; so am I. But you see it through in a way that I can’t.
( ah. jason remembers that, too. he'd been pissed at himself, enough to encourage markus to take it out on him. felt a little better, too: getting fists slammed into his face, encouraging markus to keep it up before they went their separate ways. bitched him out until he got a name from those lips. )
I was idealistic, at one point. ( a slight correction. he could get up and leave now, markus has patched him up enough. the dried bits don't matter much to him at all, but--jason's letting markus continue. breathes in deep. )
But I started from the bottom, Markus. You, you've got a light behind your eyes, ( like dick does. that goes without saying. ) you had shit and lost it. I started with nothing, got more nothing, then was handed fucking everything on a silver platter--only to lose it all again. Believing in crap is stupid, trying is fucking stupid, you're never gonna be able to fix everything. Hell, fixing one tiny goddamn thing is hard as hell.
( recent conversations have. brought up some shit, now markus has to deal with it. )
[Done cleaning, retracting his hand, he lets Jason’s words roll over him. They feel like they sting, like they stick to the edges of himself, through no fault of the other’s own. Because as Markus trails his eyes downwards, neatly returning first aid supplies into the duffel bag with purposeful motions, he can’t help but be reminded of what Lucy told him. When he had found Jericho for that first time, when it had been nothing like what he expected. Of having it all, then losing it all. A life cast under the bronze light of happiness, or maybe complacency and obliviousness, then tossed into the stark void of reality. His previous life in pieces at his feet.
Markus frowns.]
We do keep trying. Because what’s the alternative? To be compliant, complicit, and condoning?
[He zips up his bag, then meets Jason’s eyes again.]
But you’re wrong. Believing in a cause isn’t stupid — trying to affect change isn’t stupid. It means you care. It means you see problems and you want to fix them. [A beat.]
To me, it sounds exactly like what you’re trying to do. In your own way.
( markus gets it. on some weird assed level jason doesn't even know what to think of, he gets it. understands where jason's going with all of it. gets him. he starts packing away his crap and jason pulls his shirt back on, shoves folds of fabric down over his waist and covers all the broken bits covering his midsection.
doesn't say a word for a moment, but the press of lips and the way his nose pinches tight speaks volumes for itself. jason holds that for a few moments, before he lets the stress bleed out of his face, wears a loose smirk instead. )
I'll never be compliant. ( holding out a hand to markus for a leg up. ) Compliance is a joke. The system's fucked. All you'll do by falling into it is let yourself get stepped on.
[He lets the words settle into the silence, sinking deep, adding nothing more. He hopes it resonates in its own way, even as he gratefully takes the offered hand, hefting himself up with Jason's aid.]
I'm not one to disagree. [He shifts the strap of the bag to settle balanced across a shoulder.] When there's change to be had, for the betterment of those around us, compliance is just another four-letter word.
( holes in his midsection beside, jason's strong and sturdy as hell. markus' weight is near nothing, and he doesn't struggle at all with pulling him to his feet. he's learned enough about markus to know he can trust him--mostly. has learned what he believes in, to an extent.
markus is a good ally. if anything comes up here later, jason knows he'll fight for what's right. )
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[Please don’t cut into your own bones, Jason. There’s risk involved in obtaining crucial information about what happened to them — Markus understands that. He knows that sometimes doing bold, dangerous things is simply the requirement for unraveling certain mysteries, or inciting certain modes of change. But there’s a line drawn into the ground that, if one crosses, tosses them into “reckless” territory.
Markus doesn’t want to the consequence of that happen to Jason. To anyone he knows.
The removal of the broken stitches isn’t something the man has to sit through for very long, at least. They slip through skin with relative ease after the initial tug, and soon after Markus is applying that telltale, cool sting of antiseptic, simultaneously mopping up any excess bleeding with an extra cloth.]
So if it’s not hardware, then what? Any theories?
no subject
which means he'll be able to get to shit on the side of the law jason can't. )
Or it's magic in nature, which is probably the more accurate theory.
no subject
[Blood cleaned well enough, it’s time to prepare the needle and thread, his motions automatic and as complete as before.]
We live in a sci-fi novel, why not twist it into a fantasy one as well? [The quirk of his lips upward, but humor is a decidedly lacking thing.] I forget that the concept is more... real in other worlds than it is in mine.
no subject
( spoken low, as to not jostle his chest too much as markus works. jason does have the tendency to get--loud. boisterous. that's not going to help when someone's getting ready to shove needles and threads into him. )
Magicians, telekinetic aliens, Martians, Gods, everything. Every time you think you've finally figured shit it, something else comes up and throws it all off. You get used to it.
no subject
So what Jason says, all this about aliens and magic and gods, has his imagination kicking up into gear, twisted up in the feeling of disbelief. In the interim, the needle pricks and works into his skin, dutifully closing up what had been broken prior.
Boisterous as his “patient” might be, Markus is a calm, collected quiet. His words sound contemplative.]
I guess I’m not surprised. After what you told me.
[Coming back to life. Magic, indeed — or something like it.]
So— ‘you get used to it’. A situation like his, rife with inter-dimensional kidnapping, are you used to it? Why not take a moment to relax and stop cutting into your sternum, if that’s the case? Just a suggestion.
no subject
You get used to that too, Markus. ( voice a little softer once he's gotten the chance to calm himself down. teasing, ) I can't remember the last time I didn't at least have a few bruises.
( it's. not a lie. between training, testing himself, all the goddamn fights jason gets himself into--a few surgical cuts isn't going to make a difference. bodies heal. and this was better to get out of the way earlier than later, considering where he intends to start exploring once he is in one piece again. )
'sides. Gives you an excuse to feel me up, doesn't it?
( jason doesn't imagine that's it at all, but he has to poke a little fun. )
no subject
You're right. That's exactly why I'm doing this, Matches. Because I want to 'feel up' blood and broken skin as I stitch you back together.
[He'd have to be deaf to miss that edge of sarcasm, good-natured as it is.]
Stay still. I'm not done yet. [Waiting for Jason to do just that, he'll continue.] So what is it you do, exactly, back home? If you had to put a label to it?
no subject
Ask anyone in the underground, I was a crimelord. ( overtook numerous drug rings and instilled his own set of rules into them. fucked with suzie su's shit, black mask's. . ) So, that.
no subject
I’m not asking them. I’m asking you.
[One final throw of a stitch, and then he’s snipping away the excess thread. He’s done for now, as long as Jason doesn’t undo his work again in the next hour.]
no subject
and he's hot. that helps, too.
the association with damian and dick is what worries him. they can't hide that shit for long. damian hasn't been secretive. )
I take down assholes who think they're better than others. ( that's. one way to word it. ) 'cause there's nothing I hate more than overgrown egos.
no subject
Sometimes being handsome helps, though. Even if Markus would never really be so vain to ascribe it so blatantly to himself.]
...I remember what you told me. That day when the sickness had taken over my rational thought.
[His hands work automatically again, this time taking on the simple task of cleaning up any residual blood still clinging to Jason’s skin.]
Asking me if I was a person like that. The sort that took pleasure in taking advantage over the weak, looking at me as if I might’ve been a problem that needed dealing with.
[It’s not an attempt at guilting him. It’s only Markus’ sharp recollection of the event. ]
You’re idealistic; so am I. But you see it through in a way that I can’t.
no subject
I was idealistic, at one point. ( a slight correction. he could get up and leave now, markus has patched him up enough. the dried bits don't matter much to him at all, but--jason's letting markus continue. breathes in deep. )
But I started from the bottom, Markus. You, you've got a light behind your eyes, ( like dick does. that goes without saying. ) you had shit and lost it. I started with nothing, got more nothing, then was handed fucking everything on a silver platter--only to lose it all again. Believing in crap is stupid, trying is fucking stupid, you're never gonna be able to fix everything. Hell, fixing one tiny goddamn thing is hard as hell.
( recent conversations have. brought up some shit, now markus has to deal with it. )
But we try anyway, right?
no subject
Markus frowns.]
We do keep trying. Because what’s the alternative? To be compliant, complicit, and condoning?
[He zips up his bag, then meets Jason’s eyes again.]
But you’re wrong. Believing in a cause isn’t stupid — trying to affect change isn’t stupid. It means you care. It means you see problems and you want to fix them. [A beat.]
To me, it sounds exactly like what you’re trying to do. In your own way.
no subject
doesn't say a word for a moment, but the press of lips and the way his nose pinches tight speaks volumes for itself. jason holds that for a few moments, before he lets the stress bleed out of his face, wears a loose smirk instead. )
I'll never be compliant. ( holding out a hand to markus for a leg up. ) Compliance is a joke. The system's fucked. All you'll do by falling into it is let yourself get stepped on.
no subject
I'm not one to disagree. [He shifts the strap of the bag to settle balanced across a shoulder.] When there's change to be had, for the betterment of those around us, compliance is just another four-letter word.
no subject
markus is a good ally. if anything comes up here later, jason knows he'll fight for what's right. )
Thanks for the assist, again.
no subject
[Just try not to make it a habit, Jason, goes unsaid. But it's implied. He pauses once before continuing.]
If you need anything else, just let me know. I'm just a text away.