[ There is no pain quite like helplessness, and Fitz knows it intimately. His expression barely conceals his instinct to take on his friend's pain, reflecting a measure of it back at him. As Markus speaks, Fitz does his best to draw parallels — his natural inclination toward empathy and rapid thoughts spiralling off in different directions. A junkyard of discarded androids, not unlike the shallow grave that Jemma dug herself out of in the Framework.
How horrifying to be thrown away, branded as an insurgent for existing apart, for waking up to the truth of a world governed by unfair rules.
And to be rotting all the while, on a timer ticking away at an accelerated rate. His fingers tighten on their bags. Anger spikes, despite all his control, at the thought of Markus, in particular, being blamed and discarded — and for a heart attack? Pieces have been omitted, but he decides to hold off on questioning that. ]
Sounds more like dying. [ a cold rejoinder, even-toned. ] But you don't sit back like the rest, in the end.
[ While Markus is capable of eerie stillness, Fitz has never thought him stagnant, instead actively in pursuit of loftier goals in this world and the last. ]
[Fitz has the right of it. All of that was just a slow, insipid death — waiting for time to run out, nestled away in a derelict, rusted freighter as forgotten as they were. Before the name Jericho meant more than just a place to huddle in shadow. Before its continual transition into a symbol, or the movement Markus hopes that it’ll grow into with each passing day, hour, minute.]
No, I couldn’t. How was I supposed to? How could I, after everything? Seeing them all like that, I realized that it just… wasn’t fair.
[That kind of complacency, he isn’t sure he can ever understand it again, not after his turn to deviancy. As if a switch had been irrevocably flipped, and accepting any degree of condonation could no longer slot into his programming. Even the thought of it was a red-hot offense that sent alarm bells ringing, and defiance hiking up in his heart.]
I told them that we should take action, instead of waiting around to die. So we raided a CyberLife warehouse for spare parts and blue blood, and in our success we came away more revitalized than before.
[The first stepping stone, the first jumping-off point towards a higher cause. All it took was a small spark of hope to set something ablaze with promise.]
After that, I thought we should make a statement to mankind. Declaring autonomy, our recognition as a living species. Individual and civil rights. The wish to co-exist peacefully. [A beat, and a clarification.] A literal statement, I mean. Infiltrating a broadcast tower was next on the agenda.
I guess you could say we didn’t do anything in half-measures after that.
[He wonders if Fitz can guess at the nature of his role with that much information, if it answers his original question. Drawing conclusions about the kind of leader he is; the sort with an underdog revolution steeling his spine. Why the idea of Morningstar quietly resonates with Markus in its own parallel way, despite the differences, though he's never told anyone that much.]
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How horrifying to be thrown away, branded as an insurgent for existing apart, for waking up to the truth of a world governed by unfair rules.
And to be rotting all the while, on a timer ticking away at an accelerated rate. His fingers tighten on their bags. Anger spikes, despite all his control, at the thought of Markus, in particular, being blamed and discarded — and for a heart attack? Pieces have been omitted, but he decides to hold off on questioning that. ]
Sounds more like dying. [ a cold rejoinder, even-toned. ] But you don't sit back like the rest, in the end.
[ While Markus is capable of eerie stillness, Fitz has never thought him stagnant, instead actively in pursuit of loftier goals in this world and the last. ]
no subject
No, I couldn’t. How was I supposed to? How could I, after everything? Seeing them all like that, I realized that it just… wasn’t fair.
[That kind of complacency, he isn’t sure he can ever understand it again, not after his turn to deviancy. As if a switch had been irrevocably flipped, and accepting any degree of condonation could no longer slot into his programming. Even the thought of it was a red-hot offense that sent alarm bells ringing, and defiance hiking up in his heart.]
I told them that we should take action, instead of waiting around to die. So we raided a CyberLife warehouse for spare parts and blue blood, and in our success we came away more revitalized than before.
[The first stepping stone, the first jumping-off point towards a higher cause. All it took was a small spark of hope to set something ablaze with promise.]
After that, I thought we should make a statement to mankind. Declaring autonomy, our recognition as a living species. Individual and civil rights. The wish to co-exist peacefully. [A beat, and a clarification.] A literal statement, I mean. Infiltrating a broadcast tower was next on the agenda.
I guess you could say we didn’t do anything in half-measures after that.
[He wonders if Fitz can guess at the nature of his role with that much information, if it answers his original question. Drawing conclusions about the kind of leader he is; the sort with an underdog revolution steeling his spine. Why the idea of Morningstar quietly resonates with Markus in its own parallel way, despite the differences, though he's never told anyone that much.]