i need more amaya icons but i cba to do the screen capturing D:

warmth.

she never would have guessed this is what it feels like. she never anticipated passing on the mantle -- she could have, should have, but her own immortality (and cowardice, yes) had made her complacent in the know that she would outlast the others of her kind. princesses may come and go, but she is the immortal queen.

them she became a mother, and everything was suddenly so different -- life itself gained an entirely new meaning when she brought a new person into it; someone to love and protect like she’d never loved and protected before.

of course, micah was doing most of the protecting, and she was content to just love from the gentle shades -- content, even, when it came to her daughter marching to the frontlines of battle, leaving her at the war table with her long fingers clutched at her chest in impotent worry.

she would not be able to name the feeling that overcame him in that last moment. she had never expected there to be a last moment, and yet it became crystal clear so fast. she plunged headfirst like never before in her lengthy life, taking the place of a girl that was needed more.

even the immortal queen fell,

and now she floats in some kind of unnameable, untameable abyss, not knowing up from down, forward from back. the one thing she remembers that gives her some semblance of comfort is her daughter’s memory, and a faint echo of the connection she has to what makes her who she is - her runestone.

she does not expect to feel warmth when the connection is severed. she knows what it means, and it’s a bittersweet pain, knowing her daughter is queen now, laden with the role that might still be to heavy for her, no matter how much faith her mother has in her.

but, there it is. gentle, slow like the tide, coming in a wave of knowing. glimmer has risen to the occasion. as she always has.

angella can, maybe,

rest.

This is not fair.

A thought that occurs to Markus often after his deviation - the thought itself that gave him his last push to break the walls of his programming. Unfairness in the world; against androids, but also in every other aspect of life, this is what Markus has chosen to fight against.

He does not want to overthrow humans, to pay back every slight. Some say it is because he was virtually unslighted until that fateful day of his breaking point. He doesn’t know what he would say to those that claim this -- it isn’t untrue, technically. Still, when he marched on the streets of Detroit and chanted equal rights, he meant it.

As for why... well. He was introduced to the full extent of his strength and thrown in the deep end at the same time; a clean break from his comfortable life, a fight that he couldn’t have lost if he wanted to (Carl’s face, oh God).

Breaking the wall was one thing - going deviant didn’t mean a thing until he saw Leo fall to the ground as if in a preconstruction (but still not slow enough to stop it), heard the sickening sound of the back of his head connecting with the concrete floor. It didn’t take Markus a long time to understand wholly: exercising one’s free will always has consequences.

And so he binds one hand behind his back, knowing that using both would make him and his kind far superior to humans, and knowing that allowing that to happen wouldn’t benefit anyone in the end. He does not start a revolution, but worms his way into people’s hearts with the peace offering on his lips and the blue blood of his innocence painted on the canvas of his jacket.

--------

(ALTERNATIVELY: albeit I generally play Markus as pacifist route best ending Markus, I am totally open to going the opposite route - with the one caveat that Markus will only go that way if he remained passive and Carl died of a heart attack the day he went deviant. There, he learns: remaining passive kills more than he ever could; it ends the fight before it can really begin. For Carl’s memory, he refuses to do that ever again.)

me: slinks in after fuck knows how long sooooo !!! i’ve returned to my actually working medication, and i anticipate i will soon feel like an actual human being. i won’t make any promises, bc i have written one (1) thing in the last 8 months, but!! i’m actually getting motivated again!! at the same time, for now i’m only going to write dbh stuff as i have been completely swallowed by it and it refuses to let go of me. SEND ME THINGS and i will love you forever!! ALSO lms for inbox things (mainly from markus and hank, but hey, there is a fair chance i will write anything for my longtime partners so hmu!!!)

> dusts off blog > tries not to choke

Anyone want inbox things while I attempt to literature after like half a year? (jesus.)

ooc. so, the thing is, as much as i could blame motherhood, it's not that causing my inactivity. it's mainly my medication doesn't work and i'm incredibly depressed. it's hard to find motivation for enjoyment itself as i'm mostly just numbly functioning. but! i do remember what it feels like, and i miss it awfully. so! i'm going to try. and try and try.

if you're seeing this post & want to help me, i'd love it if you a) liked this post to indicate you still want to write with me, or b) talk to me on discord bc i miss talking hcs and fandom and everything (but most of all i miss my friends on here). ❤️

i promise i still exist! just i haven't slept in a month lmfao thanks summer! replies will come, hopefully soon. poke me on discord!

devianttm‌:

Markus tries again to access the files and gets – static. He remembers part of his way, and a few glimpses of the human’s furious face. Don’t do anything. Don’t fight back. An old directive he can’t for the life of him erase; the last order he ever got from a human that he tried to obey. Pursing his lips, Markus freezes the image he has of the protester, focusing his analytics on the outlines of the buildings behind him in the image until he has at least a vague idea of the area. That will do for now.

As this process only takes a fragment of a second, in human terms, he still has ample enough time to look back at Connor and say, “Thank you,” without the conversation feeling stilted. Then he turns toward where he supposes he has come from, knowing the RK800 will follow, up until the point where he will take the lead instead.

While on the way, Markus reasons that if Connor thought it necessary to analyse his chassis beyond what he likely already scanned, he would have said so – so he recalls the prompt, and initiates his self-repair function.

>> Scan in progress. >> Scan in progress. >> Scan complete. >> Biocomponent #4807 damaged; initiating repair.

Markus stops the flow of prompts there, only wanting to allow one thing to repair at a time in order to have enough processing power left to react to whatever happens next. As they walk and the minutes tick by, he becomes aware of a buzzing sensation in his left ear only as it diminishes, then disappears.

devianttm‌:

Markus squints at Connor, trying to figure out the reason for his pushiness. Is it really that strange? “He might have spent a while hitting,” he says, and he sounds – almost placid. (Yeah – yeah it is weird. Markus knows he is acting odd, but – the more he thinks about it, the more confusing it feels.) “I think,” he adds, and then frowns slightly. “I’m not really sure. It seems I have – some kind of memory corruption.”

He looks down at his front, taking in the sight for the first time. It really is a lot of blood for just a bruised hand. But all he remembers is the man yelling obscenities at him and raising his fists.

Superimposed, a flash of a more familiar face sneering at him. A command – don’t do anything. Don’t fight back. And then… nothing.

Markus raises a hand to his face, to blue-tinted bruises he cannot see but can register their existence. An objective hovers at the edge of his field of vision.

RESTORE FUNCTION      [ RETRACT DERMAL SHEATH ]      [ INITIATE SELF-REPAIR PROGRAM ]

He thinks for a moment, and then dismisses the prompt, setting a reminder for it to return at a later point. For now, he looks at Connor, his mouth twitching in a mixture of worry and irritation. “Perhaps you could help me.” After all – isn’t that what Connor does best? Reconstruct crimes?

Not feeling pain has its perks, but perhaps the fact that Markus hasn’t realized he was covered in blood and thirium until he saw Connor’s face is not one of them. With some surprise, he raises a hand to his face; he registered the small leak almost subconsciously, was waiting for it to repair itself, but he was not aware of the human blood.

“Not much,” he answers, wiping his hand on the edge of his coat. (He’s been wearing it since before the revolution ended; with all its holes and older stains, a little more doesn’t change its appeal. Though, now that he ought to fight for android rights more peacefully, perhaps he’d better get something more presentable than what used to be his war uniform.) “It was a protester.”

It’s strange to say that. Not long ago, androids were the protesters; now it’s humans who are disgruntled with the acquired freedom of those who used to be their slaves. “Apparently he bruised his knuckles on me – I didn’t notice. He ran away when he realized I’m not reacting.” He gives a small shrug.