[A calmness that can be a loop on repeat, mingling with Markus’ own innate tendency to remain steadfast no matter what manner of storm swirls around him. His focus is on Daisy now, and little else.
He offers her a grin, almost apologetic.]
Trouble finds me. That’s just how it is.
[He removes a hand and curls his fingers at the bottom of his weathered shirt, lifting it up to reveal his torso. Tightly wrapped with bandages, the lower-left side of them tinted with pink-red, proof of an injury that might be patched, but still freshly so.]
I was shot. I lost a lot of blood, but it was either myself or Connor. I chose myself.
Oh, god, [ a hushed whisper, and her now free hand clutching against her side as she sits up to get a better look. it was probably a bad idea, and she'll probably regret it later — but a patch job like that deserves a clear sightline. ] I can't believe you took a bullet for somebody.
[ not because she can't believe he would. she believes that wholeheartedly, and has the visual proof to boot. it's more that daisy is still a little in shock that things came to such a dramatic peak. thus far, even their more dramatic crises haven't involved soldiers shooting (or beating) to kill. it's a bit of a wake up call. ]
I'd be anxious too if you took a bullet for me.
[ she wonders, then, if the person she took a beating for is anxious too. she hasn't heard from him. a frown etches into her features, the beat of the empathy bond slowing to reflect a hint of guilt and more than a little sadness. ]
I'm glad you're okay, though. Fitz said everything went well with the rescue op?
[ he left out a lot of detail. drag him, markus. ]
[He nods, understanding her meaning, letting his shirt fall back into place and pressing his palm into the mattress. The other remains around her hands, unwavering yet gentle.]
It's a choice I'd make again if I had to. Dealing with the consequences is worth keeping someone important to me safe. It always will be. [Probably not the words Connor would want to hear, but this isn't something Markus would ever compromise on. He's always been ready to give himself to a cause, to protect others close to him, to take a bullet if it's the right thing to do. Here and back in Detroit, it's just par the course.
He notes the guilt eking through their bond, a tinge of something sad existing there. He wonders why guilt is intermingling itself between them, and though he could try to form an idea based on assumption alone, Markus tends to her question first. It's an important one.]
It did. We got Patil out and in one piece. The operation was, technically, a success... but it wasn't smooth. A minute longer in that apartment, facing against the UNA, and I don't know if any of us would've made it. Did he tell you exactly what happened?
You were being the shield. [ there's pride in her voice and in the bond too, a warmth that brightens daisy's features as she considers him. ] I told you you'd make a great agent.
[ and he would. markus is smart as a whip and clearly capable in battle, but it's his heart and his compassion that make him so well-suited to step into shoes like daisy's. even laying in this hospital bed, even with the pain she's doing her best to grimace through, she wouldn't change a thing. it had kept people safe, people she cared about, and that was worth suffering for. ]
Hopefully Connor's not mad at you. I haven't heard from Illya since I woke up.
[ and it's been a few days. she wonders how mad he is. if she'll hear from him.
but as for fitz... well, the not-quite-laugh smothered in her throat ought to indicate exactly how much information she got out of him regarding that mission. ]
You know he didn't. All I got was "we're alive" and then nothing.
[It’s a true compliment, the fact that she thinks he’d make a good compatriot of hers. An android that was built for caretaking, with a mind skewing towards revolution, to have the discipline and the steeled heart to act as an agent with Daisy and her kin. It’s flattering, in a way that manages to peak past the tiredness of his eyes, and look sincere in his smile.]
Maybe I should think about looking into another career.
[You know, other than that starving artist career path he’s undertaken here in NA.
The rest, though, requires a more serious timbre, his tone dropping as he delves into too-fresh memory. He notes her comment about Ilya, but stores it away for later.]
Entry into the apartment went smoothly enough, but the UNA was close behind. I kept Patil protected, while everyone else tried to keep the soldier’s attentions split. It was… it went fine at first, but then they started to adapt. The same trick wouldn’t work on them more than once. The initial idea was to stun them, but that fell apart when Cain killed one almost point-blank. Fitz did the same, using a portal to decapitate another after grappling against them. I think he won himself a broken rib in the process.
[Yeah, they sure had a Time of it.]
Peggy was shot, but I think her power activated and saved her at the last second. We got out alive, but frazzled, to say the least.
[A minute more, and they might not have gotten out at all.]
[ she listens intently, quiet until he falls silent as well, her gaze focused on his face as he describes the events. it's not the worst mission report she's ever heard, per se — they did escape relatively unscathed, without any permanent injuries or losses to chalk out — but not the best either.
there's a lull in the conversation as daisy thinks, while she struggles to consider what's been said, and if markus is paying attention (and he likely is), he'll be able to note the serious shift her expression takes, evidence of the gears turning behind her eyes as she tries to slot all the puzzle pieces together. ]
Adaptive learning, [ she finally says, as if completing a conversation she's had in her own head. ] Kylo and I shocked a few. It didn't stop them completely — I don't think they're robotic, not totally, but I have to wonder how much that armor is in control.
[ her mouth twists in deep thought as her thoughts run in a few directions. it takes her a minute, between the complexity of the situation and the heaviness of the drugs still in her system, to figure out what to say. ]
Normal soldiers don't do what they did. These guys didn't make a single mistake. Everything was precise. I don't know anybody that good... and I know some good damn soldiers.
[ shout out to melinda may, somewhere in the multiverse. ]
[It's an interesting thought, and one that Markus is not quick to discard.]
They're very much human, or at least... organic. But whatever their minds are filled with, it isn’t— [It isn’t what? Isn’t empathy, isn’t human? Maybe it’s the drugs making it difficult to articulate, or maybe it’s the way this subject interposes itself with what he knows from home, but Markus hesitates.] —natural. Something else is at the helm. Whether it’s ancillary programming from an implant, or suit, or impossibly conditioned training…
[He shakes his head, casting his gaze to the side briefly.]
They remind me of androids back home, the ones that haven’t woken up. That haven’t discovered self-awareness yet. Adapting and working in-tandem with each other beyond what should be possible for a human. We might need to consider what would make something like that possible in this world.
[But that can be saved for a time when they’re not downtrodden and exhausted. When they’re in the right of mind to think of anything other than how their bodies hurt and how the ones close to them might be equally injured.]
But we all did the best that we could. It’s hard not to feel guilty about split-second decisions in retrospect, but all that matters is that you’re safe. You mentioned Illya, is he all right?
[ they're both muddling through challenges in speech, trying to battle the intentionally sedative medical care in order to exchange information; it's an exhausting process, and by the time markus shares his comparison and concerns, it doesn't take a trained medical student to recognize the effect the conversation has. ]
You're right. I was thinking LMDs, but — [ she pauses, more necessity than dramatic effect, and her nose wrinkles a bit in distaste ] — but I think you're right.
[ as per usual, her immediate go-to: ] We should talk to Fitz. See if he can ... you know, fill in the gaps.
[ but that's all she has to contribute right now; markus' deft changing of the subject is highly appreciated, even if it means having to answer questions that require her to think for very different reasons. like not letting her cheeks heat up in response, for one thing. ]
He's okay. [ she sounds relieved to say it. ] Broken hand, but nothing major. He, uh. He carried me back, actually.
[They’ll manage to string words together, even if they both have to pick up the ends of each other’s sentences and tie them in knots. He shakes his head.]
It’s fine. As good of a reason as any to not have checked in. [Easily dismissed, not wanting her to feel bad about it.] We’ll bring it up with Fitz once everything finally quiets down.
[He’s trying to pinpoint exactly what it is he feels, like something still hanging unresolved — not necessarily between himself and Daisy, but lingering in the wake of their circumstances. In something she’s said.]
...Was he upset? You said you haven’t heard from him.
[ she doesn't say anything at first, just offers a non-committal shrug of her shoulders up and down, her gaze dropping to peer at her hands in her lap where they're idly picking at the fabric of the blanket draped over her legs. ]
I don't know. [ she knows too much and yet not enough, though none of it makes sense. ] I mean, I do. He was.
[ but. she starts and stops, mouth opening and closing as if of its own accord; there's a moment of silence and then daisy groans in frustration, lips pressing together in a firm line. ]
He's mad at me. Or he was, for getting myself hurt. But he hasn't come by...
[ does that matter? should it matter? she can't seem to figure that part out. would she care if it was someone else? the problem is, the control in daisy's mental experiment isn't a control at all. it's fitz, a man she's bonded to far beyond casual friendship, and what fitz would do or feel in the wake of daisy's self-sacrificing recklessness is not inherently what a casual friend would. in comparing the two, daisy finds herself unable to evade the fact that illya, too, isn't "just a friend".
and that isn't something she's totally ready to do yet. thus, the conflict. ]
[How parallel their circumstances run is uncanny. That in the moment, one doesn’t hesitate to throw themselves in the line of figurative fire for another. Bodily injury means so little when you can shoulder the burden from someone else. Protecting those that you care about the most paramount thing of all. The consequences at the time have so little bearing that they might as well not exist.
But after the fact is when they do bear down, when emotion strings everyone up and one has to live with the choices made. Markus knows this. Remembers what he had done to Connor, instilling him with anxious fear, near-panic when he was bleeding out, their fingers desperately intwined to put pressure on the bleeding.
It’s a strange mixture of guilt and the assuredness that you’d do nothing differently. Markus wonders if Daisy feels similarly.]
Emotions are running high. It’s… easy to get upset when people you care about are involved, he might just need time to himself for now. Talk to him, when you feel better.
Yeah. [ agreement for agreement's sake, though she doesn't sound entirely convinced. she's partially too tired, but it's mostly the simple fact that she doesn't want to spoil markus' unexpected visit with arguing about something she doesn't even have an argument for. easier just to agree, and figure out how she feels later. ] I will.
[ she's quiet for a moment, drowsiness blotting her features as she drags fingertips down and across her eyes and cheeks. eventually, though, her hands drop into her lap; one reaches out, her fingers curling around his palm in a soft embrace. ]
Thank you, though. [ a squeeze, just barely ] I was starting to get a little lonely in my quarantine bubble.
[He knows the words aren’t enough to wipe away the uncertainty, or the guilt. That’s the thickest kind of air that can only be cleared between her and Illya, and Markus can only give advice and whatever comfort that might make it easier until then.
His palm curls gently around her fingers, a touch barely-there, but carrying poignant weight between two friends. He just shakes his head again.]
Not a problem at all, Daisy. I was, too. [He takes in the tiredness on her face, exhaustion dragging through her features, debating if he wants to let conversation trail on longer, to explore what might be harassing her mind—
But right now, it’s her body that needs the rest more than anything else.]
If you need me for anything, I’ll be nearby. You should try to sleep for now.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
He offers her a grin, almost apologetic.]
Trouble finds me. That’s just how it is.
[He removes a hand and curls his fingers at the bottom of his weathered shirt, lifting it up to reveal his torso. Tightly wrapped with bandages, the lower-left side of them tinted with pink-red, proof of an injury that might be patched, but still freshly so.]
I was shot. I lost a lot of blood, but it was either myself or Connor. I chose myself.
no subject
[ not because she can't believe he would. she believes that wholeheartedly, and has the visual proof to boot. it's more that daisy is still a little in shock that things came to such a dramatic peak. thus far, even their more dramatic crises haven't involved soldiers shooting (or beating) to kill. it's a bit of a wake up call. ]
I'd be anxious too if you took a bullet for me.
[ she wonders, then, if the person she took a beating for is anxious too. she hasn't heard from him. a frown etches into her features, the beat of the empathy bond slowing to reflect a hint of guilt and more than a little sadness. ]
I'm glad you're okay, though. Fitz said everything went well with the rescue op?
[ he left out a lot of detail. drag him, markus. ]
no subject
It's a choice I'd make again if I had to. Dealing with the consequences is worth keeping someone important to me safe. It always will be. [Probably not the words Connor would want to hear, but this isn't something Markus would ever compromise on. He's always been ready to give himself to a cause, to protect others close to him, to take a bullet if it's the right thing to do. Here and back in Detroit, it's just par the course.
He notes the guilt eking through their bond, a tinge of something sad existing there. He wonders why guilt is intermingling itself between them, and though he could try to form an idea based on assumption alone, Markus tends to her question first. It's an important one.]
It did. We got Patil out and in one piece. The operation was, technically, a success... but it wasn't smooth. A minute longer in that apartment, facing against the UNA, and I don't know if any of us would've made it. Did he tell you exactly what happened?
no subject
[ and he would. markus is smart as a whip and clearly capable in battle, but it's his heart and his compassion that make him so well-suited to step into shoes like daisy's. even laying in this hospital bed, even with the pain she's doing her best to grimace through, she wouldn't change a thing. it had kept people safe, people she cared about, and that was worth suffering for. ]
Hopefully Connor's not mad at you. I haven't heard from Illya since I woke up.
[ and it's been a few days. she wonders how mad he is. if she'll hear from him.
but as for fitz... well, the not-quite-laugh smothered in her throat ought to indicate exactly how much information she got out of him regarding that mission. ]
You know he didn't. All I got was "we're alive" and then nothing.
no subject
Maybe I should think about looking into another career.
[You know, other than that starving artist career path he’s undertaken here in NA.
The rest, though, requires a more serious timbre, his tone dropping as he delves into too-fresh memory. He notes her comment about Ilya, but stores it away for later.]
Entry into the apartment went smoothly enough, but the UNA was close behind. I kept Patil protected, while everyone else tried to keep the soldier’s attentions split. It was… it went fine at first, but then they started to adapt. The same trick wouldn’t work on them more than once. The initial idea was to stun them, but that fell apart when Cain killed one almost point-blank. Fitz did the same, using a portal to decapitate another after grappling against them. I think he won himself a broken rib in the process.
[Yeah, they sure had a Time of it.]
Peggy was shot, but I think her power activated and saved her at the last second. We got out alive, but frazzled, to say the least.
[A minute more, and they might not have gotten out at all.]
no subject
there's a lull in the conversation as daisy thinks, while she struggles to consider what's been said, and if markus is paying attention (and he likely is), he'll be able to note the serious shift her expression takes, evidence of the gears turning behind her eyes as she tries to slot all the puzzle pieces together. ]
Adaptive learning, [ she finally says, as if completing a conversation she's had in her own head. ] Kylo and I shocked a few. It didn't stop them completely — I don't think they're robotic, not totally, but I have to wonder how much that armor is in control.
[ her mouth twists in deep thought as her thoughts run in a few directions. it takes her a minute, between the complexity of the situation and the heaviness of the drugs still in her system, to figure out what to say. ]
Normal soldiers don't do what they did. These guys didn't make a single mistake. Everything was precise. I don't know anybody that good... and I know some good damn soldiers.
[ shout out to melinda may, somewhere in the multiverse. ]
no subject
They're very much human, or at least... organic. But whatever their minds are filled with, it isn’t— [It isn’t what? Isn’t empathy, isn’t human? Maybe it’s the drugs making it difficult to articulate, or maybe it’s the way this subject interposes itself with what he knows from home, but Markus hesitates.] —natural. Something else is at the helm. Whether it’s ancillary programming from an implant, or suit, or impossibly conditioned training…
[He shakes his head, casting his gaze to the side briefly.]
They remind me of androids back home, the ones that haven’t woken up. That haven’t discovered self-awareness yet. Adapting and working in-tandem with each other beyond what should be possible for a human. We might need to consider what would make something like that possible in this world.
[But that can be saved for a time when they’re not downtrodden and exhausted. When they’re in the right of mind to think of anything other than how their bodies hurt and how the ones close to them might be equally injured.]
But we all did the best that we could. It’s hard not to feel guilty about split-second decisions in retrospect, but all that matters is that you’re safe. You mentioned Illya, is he all right?
no subject
You're right. I was thinking LMDs, but — [ she pauses, more necessity than dramatic effect, and her nose wrinkles a bit in distaste ] — but I think you're right.
[ as per usual, her immediate go-to: ] We should talk to Fitz. See if he can ... you know, fill in the gaps.
[ but that's all she has to contribute right now; markus' deft changing of the subject is highly appreciated, even if it means having to answer questions that require her to think for very different reasons. like not letting her cheeks heat up in response, for one thing. ]
He's okay. [ she sounds relieved to say it. ] Broken hand, but nothing major. He, uh. He carried me back, actually.
[ is that relevant? ]
I was unconscious — that's why I didn't check in.
[ sorry about that. ]
no subject
It’s fine. As good of a reason as any to not have checked in. [Easily dismissed, not wanting her to feel bad about it.] We’ll bring it up with Fitz once everything finally quiets down.
[He’s trying to pinpoint exactly what it is he feels, like something still hanging unresolved — not necessarily between himself and Daisy, but lingering in the wake of their circumstances. In something she’s said.]
...Was he upset? You said you haven’t heard from him.
no subject
I don't know. [ she knows too much and yet not enough, though none of it makes sense. ] I mean, I do. He was.
[ but. she starts and stops, mouth opening and closing as if of its own accord; there's a moment of silence and then daisy groans in frustration, lips pressing together in a firm line. ]
He's mad at me. Or he was, for getting myself hurt. But he hasn't come by...
[ does that matter? should it matter? she can't seem to figure that part out. would she care if it was someone else? the problem is, the control in daisy's mental experiment isn't a control at all. it's fitz, a man she's bonded to far beyond casual friendship, and what fitz would do or feel in the wake of daisy's self-sacrificing recklessness is not inherently what a casual friend would. in comparing the two, daisy finds herself unable to evade the fact that illya, too, isn't "just a friend".
and that isn't something she's totally ready to do yet. thus, the conflict. ]
I don't know.
no subject
But after the fact is when they do bear down, when emotion strings everyone up and one has to live with the choices made. Markus knows this. Remembers what he had done to Connor, instilling him with anxious fear, near-panic when he was bleeding out, their fingers desperately intwined to put pressure on the bleeding.
It’s a strange mixture of guilt and the assuredness that you’d do nothing differently. Markus wonders if Daisy feels similarly.]
Emotions are running high. It’s… easy to get upset when people you care about are involved, he might just need time to himself for now. Talk to him, when you feel better.
no subject
[ she's quiet for a moment, drowsiness blotting her features as she drags fingertips down and across her eyes and cheeks. eventually, though, her hands drop into her lap; one reaches out, her fingers curling around his palm in a soft embrace. ]
Thank you, though. [ a squeeze, just barely ] I was starting to get a little lonely in my quarantine bubble.
no subject
His palm curls gently around her fingers, a touch barely-there, but carrying poignant weight between two friends. He just shakes his head again.]
Not a problem at all, Daisy. I was, too. [He takes in the tiredness on her face, exhaustion dragging through her features, debating if he wants to let conversation trail on longer, to explore what might be harassing her mind—
But right now, it’s her body that needs the rest more than anything else.]
If you need me for anything, I’ll be nearby. You should try to sleep for now.
[They both should.]