[Markus’ bruised and raw knuckles on display, the lid pops off with little difficulty. Despite himself, his lips twist, threatening to tilt into a tired smile. ]
Maybe the notion of ‘humanity’ is more of a universal trait than mankind itself realizes.
[It’s a very Markus thing to say.
He places the jello cup on Noctis’ tray, setting the lid down next to it.]
It’s strange of you to bring that up, though, just because I’m trying to stop you from looking ridiculous.
Sounds philosophical like that. [ In other words, probably over his head. ] I dunno... What else would you be applying it to? Animals? Daemons? Astrals? ... I guess here it's "gods" or something.
You're right though, I should obviously be trying to look my best right now. [ A joke right back as he readies his spoon, digging into the jello cup... which slides annoyingly around the tray with his force if he's not careful. This is just not the thing to eat with one hand. ]
What it means to be human... I've got some ideas, anyway.
Maa, maybe later. What I'm talking about is feeling guilty. [ Let's go there. ] I don't think animals really get into that like people do. Maybe they act like it when they're worried they'll get in trouble, but keeping yourself in pain is next level. It's just... human.
[Is this where we have to go? Markus invited it, in a way, but he had also made an obvious attempt to skate over the issue.
They’re not doing that, apparently.]
Is it really so surprising? That something other than human can possess a conscience, can reason, can feel emotion, empathy? And guilt, so closely tied to it. No species has complete ownership over any of these.
[That can be an exceedingly selfish way of thinking, but Markus doesn’t sound accusatory. Most wouldn’t even bother to think this deeply about it.]
[ No, they're not doing that. This is an important moment for you, man. ]
Yeah, it's surprising. If you don't get evidence of something, why would you assume it's there? Right? I'm not saying you don't feel it, anyway... I'm saying you do.
But you wanna' talk about the whole world and how it works instead of talking about you...
[It’s naive, he thinks. That showing evidence of emotion is always enough to convince humans of the legitimacy of that emotion. Markus wishes that it were so simple; things would be so different back home if it were.
But it seems that’s not the real point of this conversation.]
Are you wanting to talk about me, Noctis? Are you going to tell me that I shouldn’t feel the way I do?
Those are two really different questions. [ The jello is finally vanquished with another careful scrape at the sides, collecting all the last of it. Overly sweet, so it's perfect for him. ]
... I dunno. I don't think I'm really the person to tell anybody how to feel. But I'm part of the reason you feel bad so I wanna' hear about it.
[Markus returns his hand to his lap, and his fingers flex gently as he regards Noctis for a quiet moment. He still feel the uncomfortable tingling of raw skin at his knuckles, the dull pain a constant reminder of what he had done.
There’s a multitude of ways to reply to Noctis. Many of them couched in some variation of I’m fine or There’s no need to worry about me. Worry about yourself instead. Yet Markus owes the young man something more than that — after what he’s put him through, if this is what he wants to hear, then so be it.
A part of him thinks this would just be easier if he were mad at him.]
I hurt you, Noctis. It doesn’t get much more straightforward than that. I hurt people who wanted to help me, I hurt someone I’m supposed to protect, I lost patience, I started fights. I let myself fall into anger, when I’m supposed to be stronger than that. When that isn’t me — not the part of me that I want clawing itself to the surface like some... spurned monster.
I lost control. I’m not the sort of person that’s supposed to lose control.
[ Normally he'd look away, uncomfortable under a direct stare for too long, but he holds his gaze as best as he can for this. Listening carefully to each word, silent throughout until the end of Markus's answer finally has eyes lowering. Not the sort of person that's supposed to lose control? There it is again, that sense of duty over self. And how long has that self had to really cultivate without barriers in the way to stop it? Connor had made it seem recent, at least. ]
I said I can't tell you how to feel... but there's something my old man used to say. I think about it when I screw up, anyway.
And that's that you've gotta' look forward, now. It happened, you fixed what you could, but you can't get stuck in it. Not that I'm any good at it... but if he said it, it's probably true. If you obsess over it too much you're probably gonna' end up slipping on the stuff you need to do more.
[Markus' look only flickers to the side once when Noctis replies, though the words are taken in, listened to, turned over in his head. At their core, he knows it's a truth to adhere to. It’s hard to say that he’s always been the sort to press forward — new as so many experiences wrapped up in deviancy are to him — but perhaps it’s not a stretch to describe him a man who will always want to. Stepping through guilt is like walking through quicksand; linger too long, and he'll find himself sinking and unable to breathe.
Ciri had even said that much to him. With two people now repeating the same advice, just conveyed with differing verbiage, maybe it’s hard to contest the point. One coming from a young woman’s own experiences, another from a young man’s father. (Spoken of in past tense. Markus doesn’t neglect to notice this much.)
Still hard to erase the guilt, but maybe he would reassure the other that he’s not the sort to wallow, not when the weight of others still presses down on his shoulders. Maybe, if the thought wasn’t cut in two with a complaint about the food—]
…That’s all the fish they had. You really are picky.
It's not about pickiness. How do I put it... It's just about serving average fish to a master angler. It should be fresh out of the water, then grilled. Obviously I'm gonna' have something to say about it if they make it weird.
[ He scrapes at the parmesan-coating on the fish with his fork idly, feeling the weight of the silence between them. He should probably say something else, something that isn't this poor deflection. It's not like he wants to walk his words back, but it's weird that Markus hadn't responded to it directly, right? ]
[ Have you considered that maybe he's extremely socially AWKWARD?
The question comes and goes without an immediate answer, a derisive snort coming as an immediate reply but there's not a lot of humor in it. ]
... I've had to take it a lot of times. Doesn't mean I like it. [ Has he dealt with his own guilt and grief? No. Has he pressed onward with what he needs to do? Yes, for better or worse. Maybe he's over-correcting, but how the hell else is he supposed to cope when every time he pauses he gets pushed again? Guilt's practically a luxury to indulge in too. ]
You said you can't afford to slip like that and show that side. Well you think beating yourself up is a better look to people? Geeze...
[He’s created something defensive by reflecting the question back. He wonders if the reaction speaks for itself.]
I never said I wouldn’t push forward, Noctis. I was only wondering if you had considered this advice from both angles.
[A muscle works along a bruised jawline, not letting much of a silence fall between them this time. There’s context missing, as far as Markus is aware.]
I have to process what I’ve done somehow. I have to be able to— feel bad about it. This is how I do it, when there’s no other choice. Do you know why there isn’t?
[He wonders if Connor’s told him. Noctis hasn’t questioned his priority of image and duty over personal concerns, where most would be quick to.]
Obviously I've considered it from both sides. I already said, it's what my-- [ What his father would say. But now this is all hitting unexpectedly close to home and he measures his exhale, leaning back in the bed. ] Forget it, doesn't matter...
Yeah, I think I know why. [ Somehow it's both a sobering and tiring thought. Markus surely doesn't need his pity, but he has it regardless. Who does Markus have that he can be unguarded around? ]
I get that it sucks... but if you're doing things like refusing pain pills don't you think Connor's gonna' feel worse? Not saying you can't think about yourself, just... I dunno. I'm not the person to give this speech, I guess.
[What his father would say. Markus can complete that sentence in his own head very easily; wants to delve a little deeper, not cruelly, but carefully — just as he knows that this isn’t quite shaping up to be the time for it. Not yet.
Besides, utilizing Connor in this pseudo-disagreement is like lobbing a stone into still water. Disturbs everything on the surface, makes Markus reconsider what he’s already turned over in his mind more than once.]
I’m not going to tell him that I’m avoiding medication out of guilt. I would appreciate it if you didn’t either.
[But it’s a tricky thing, given how eerily observant the other android is. But Markus is banking on the perception of him being the sort to just push through pain. That he doesn’t have any injuries that are as bad as what Connor or Noctis are sporting. At worst, just label him as inherently stubborn — Connor’s already remarked on that side of him once before.]
[ It feels intentional and he wants to sigh, but it'd come across as frustration with the conversation when that isn't what he wants to convey. It's... strange being on this side of the equation. Uncomfortable, maybe, and he has a new appreciation for Gladio's burdens. Even so, it feels like this weight is one that's newer to Markus's shoulders than it is to his own, and that emboldens him a little. ]
I won't tell him. I'm not telling him any of this. The point is... it doesn't matter why you're doing it or if he knows, just the fact that it's happening could be enough to make him worry or whatever. Sometimes you're just stuck feeling bad and not being able to show it the way you want.
[Markus is the one to exhale, not quite a sigh, but heavy with something that just feels, plainly, tired. Difficult as always, never so straightforward a solution — action performed to process his own guilt, versus the mental wellbeing of someone he was supposed to protect. Viewed in this way, the priority should be clear; but everything is muddied up today. Connor’s going to continue to worry, no matter if the pain in the marrow of Markus’ bones is dulled or otherwise. Noctis wasn’t there to see their fight. Didn’t hear the words exchanged between them. Markus has forgiven him, but can he forgive himself?
(Doesn’t that sound familiar.)
Both options just sound like different variation of masks to wear. Filtered down to this simplistic notion, maybe Noctis is right.]
That’s right.
[So it seems to be delegated to him, something he’ll gladly place upon his shoulders if it meant ushering his people to freedom. He’d guide, protect, even be the face of an address submitted from a broadcast room high above the city, facing the danger of a hurried and harried retreat.]
[ There it is now, the fully fledged sigh he'd been holding behind his teeth. How does someone so young manage to sound so long-suffering? What a talent. ]
It's really annoying that I'm having to do all the talking... It's not my style. [ First and foremost. But... he feels like he has to, now. Something like this, a realization like this is too hard to turn away from. How often has he actually been able to really talk to anyone in a situation similar to his? Sure, it's not analogous and it'd be dangerous to think of it that way, but he's always been a little too sympathetic to others. ]
You're... ah, no, that's not what I wanna' say.
If you have a few people you can be yourself around... it'll be easier. Even one person. But otherwise if you're gonna' be a leader your life's not just yours.
[A quiet individual by default, Markus isn’t the talkative one of the pair of androids, unless sparked by offense or passionate idealism. Because he doesn’t want Noctis to think that he’s disengaging, he clarifies—]
I’m taking the time to listen to what you have to say.
[And what’s being said sounds like such a practical solution. Like a chance to breathe, if it were so easy. Markus considers this, then speaks, lacing his words together one at a time.]
But I know that. I feel the weight of that every day. And maybe it would be easier with someone else to be myself around. [Whatever that even was. He feels so entrenched in who he’s supposed to be, that some days he can’t tell where the line’s been drawn — but that’s a matter for another time.]
But life’s not given me even a chance to breathe yet. I went from everything to nothing in the blink of an eye. [Lucy’s words reflect in his syllables.] From home, to the junkyard, to finding purpose in people like myself, to this place, caged in an unfamiliar body. To a bleak future, where timelines from my own home refuse to align; and that’s not even accounting for the fact that I can, apparently, lose control of my own actions due to a sickness that no one could’ve guessed at.
[Markus can’t help himself, he brings up a hand to rub at his eye with the heel of a palm. How did he find himself on this end of the conversation? Noctis continually surprises him.]
Time feels like… such a foreign luxury. Making that kind of connection here is difficult.
[ With each word comes a new weight and a new desire to interrupt, to commiserate, but the list of things he can relate to grows steadily longer as Markus continues to speak. Chastising him for silence was clearly premature; he shares what's bogging him down far more openly than Noctis could've given him credit for. Damn... ]
... yeah. [ It's all he can manage at first, finally nudging that tray away from himself as food loses its appeal. He's seriously been through a lot, hasn't he? It's more than just grappling with his newfound humanness or struggling to lead, it's upheaval and harsh doses of reality. ]
I get it. And I know-- that already sounds like I'm just saying it. But it's only been a few weeks now since I lost my home too. Just like you said it... with everything changing overnight. The city I was trying to describe to you, I don't know what it looks like anymore... It's not safe for me to go back and see, not since the invasion. But I'm gonna' fix it. Just like you're gonna' fix what happened for your people. [ And in that moment there's not just some apathetic boy sitting in that bed, there's someone with steelier eyes and a calmer sense of determination. A leader in his own right, if only a budding one. ]
... I don't get the unfamiliar body thing, though. Even if I can't say I love having a computer in my head.
[Unburdening all of that should have been a weight lifted, but Markus feels no different. Feels all wound up, tighter in his chest and throat, and he swallows against what his human body involuntarily dictates. Glances briefly, uselessly, at Noctis’ discarded meal, pushed away and unwanted.
And then he listens. Hears Noctis speak of a ruined home, one that sounds like he was forcefully departed from. Invasion. War.
He remembers what the other declared his role to be, the day he had newly arrived. A guard, and it would make sense to see the steel in his eyes now, wrought by determination and duty. And yet there’s something else there, something that reflects in Markus’ own core, though he can’t pinpoint exactly why.]
Of course we’re both going to see it through to the end. Without a shadow of a doubt.
[It almost doesn’t need to be said. Something unwinds in him. In the... sameness, that unexpected solidarity, coming from Noctis.]
You sound a little like a leader yourself, you know. You give advice like one.
[Tinged with awkwardness, maybe, but time often sheds that much without issue.]
Why is something that simple simultaneously a source of significant anxiety and soothing calm? It's ever looming. An entire kingdom resting on his shoulders, people suffering all because they have faith in his potential that he doesn't necessarily see yet himself -- Jared, Clarus, his father... Whose fault is it that they're gone, really? The Empire's? Or... is Markus someone to whom he can show a fraction of the guilt he'd advised him to keep hidden from the people who depend on him? ]
Ah... hm, well, I told you already. It's not my advice. Call it a loan from my dad... He led a lot of men, better than I ever will. [ There's a hint of his honest feelings slipping out unchecked too; if he'd said that back home wouldn't he be due for a lecture? ]
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Ah, sure. Thanks. [ And so it's passed over, main course still unfinished before he wants to go after the dessert. Typical. ]
... you guys sure are really human. Kinda' crazy to think of you being anything else.
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Maybe the notion of ‘humanity’ is more of a universal trait than mankind itself realizes.
[It’s a very Markus thing to say.
He places the jello cup on Noctis’ tray, setting the lid down next to it.]
It’s strange of you to bring that up, though, just because I’m trying to stop you from looking ridiculous.
[Maybe that was a joke, too.]
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You're right though, I should obviously be trying to look my best right now. [ A joke right back as he readies his spoon, digging into the jello cup... which slides annoyingly around the tray with his force if he's not careful. This is just not the thing to eat with one hand. ]
But I wasn't talking about the jello anyway.
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You’d have to define what it means to be human, first. A debate for the ages, but I’m sure you’re not—
[On instinct, he stretches out an arm to steady the jello cup with his hand, keeping it from sliding around when Noctis tries to dig in.]
—really in the mood for a philosophical discussion right now. So then tell me instead what it was you were referring to.
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What it means to be human... I've got some ideas, anyway.
Maa, maybe later. What I'm talking about is feeling guilty. [ Let's go there. ] I don't think animals really get into that like people do. Maybe they act like it when they're worried they'll get in trouble, but keeping yourself in pain is next level. It's just... human.
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They’re not doing that, apparently.]
Is it really so surprising? That something other than human can possess a conscience, can reason, can feel emotion, empathy? And guilt, so closely tied to it. No species has complete ownership over any of these.
[That can be an exceedingly selfish way of thinking, but Markus doesn’t sound accusatory. Most wouldn’t even bother to think this deeply about it.]
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Yeah, it's surprising. If you don't get evidence of something, why would you assume it's there? Right? I'm not saying you don't feel it, anyway... I'm saying you do.
But you wanna' talk about the whole world and how it works instead of talking about you...
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But it seems that’s not the real point of this conversation.]
Are you wanting to talk about me, Noctis? Are you going to tell me that I shouldn’t feel the way I do?
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Those are two really different questions. [ The jello is finally vanquished with another careful scrape at the sides, collecting all the last of it. Overly sweet, so it's perfect for him. ]
... I dunno. I don't think I'm really the person to tell anybody how to feel. But I'm part of the reason you feel bad so I wanna' hear about it.
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There’s a multitude of ways to reply to Noctis. Many of them couched in some variation of I’m fine or There’s no need to worry about me. Worry about yourself instead. Yet Markus owes the young man something more than that — after what he’s put him through, if this is what he wants to hear, then so be it.
A part of him thinks this would just be easier if he were mad at him.]
I hurt you, Noctis. It doesn’t get much more straightforward than that. I hurt people who wanted to help me, I hurt someone I’m supposed to protect, I lost patience, I started fights. I let myself fall into anger, when I’m supposed to be stronger than that. When that isn’t me — not the part of me that I want clawing itself to the surface like some... spurned monster.
I lost control. I’m not the sort of person that’s supposed to lose control.
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I said I can't tell you how to feel... but there's something my old man used to say. I think about it when I screw up, anyway.
And that's that you've gotta' look forward, now. It happened, you fixed what you could, but you can't get stuck in it. Not that I'm any good at it... but if he said it, it's probably true. If you obsess over it too much you're probably gonna' end up slipping on the stuff you need to do more.
[ ... ]
... ahh, this fish kinda' sucks...
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Ciri had even said that much to him. With two people now repeating the same advice, just conveyed with differing verbiage, maybe it’s hard to contest the point. One coming from a young woman’s own experiences, another from a young man’s father. (Spoken of in past tense. Markus doesn’t neglect to notice this much.)
Still hard to erase the guilt, but maybe he would reassure the other that he’s not the sort to wallow, not when the weight of others still presses down on his shoulders. Maybe, if the thought wasn’t cut in two with a complaint about the food—]
…That’s all the fish they had. You really are picky.
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[ He scrapes at the parmesan-coating on the fish with his fork idly, feeling the weight of the silence between them. He should probably say something else, something that isn't this poor deflection. It's not like he wants to walk his words back, but it's weird that Markus hadn't responded to it directly, right? ]
... do you want this?
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…No, thank you. I’m not hungry right now.
[“Master angler.” To be kept in mind the next time Markus has to hurriedly pick out fish from a limited selection of hastily prepared entrees.
Still, he grabs hold of the figurative reins, leading them back on the path. Swaths of awkward silences usually just slide off of his own shoulders.]
Tell me something — if the roles were reversed, would you be able to take this advice for yourself? Without hesitation, I mean.
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The question comes and goes without an immediate answer, a derisive snort coming as an immediate reply but there's not a lot of humor in it. ]
... I've had to take it a lot of times. Doesn't mean I like it. [ Has he dealt with his own guilt and grief? No. Has he pressed onward with what he needs to do? Yes, for better or worse. Maybe he's over-correcting, but how the hell else is he supposed to cope when every time he pauses he gets pushed again? Guilt's practically a luxury to indulge in too. ]
You said you can't afford to slip like that and show that side. Well you think beating yourself up is a better look to people? Geeze...
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I never said I wouldn’t push forward, Noctis. I was only wondering if you had considered this advice from both angles.
[A muscle works along a bruised jawline, not letting much of a silence fall between them this time. There’s context missing, as far as Markus is aware.]
I have to process what I’ve done somehow. I have to be able to— feel bad about it. This is how I do it, when there’s no other choice. Do you know why there isn’t?
[He wonders if Connor’s told him. Noctis hasn’t questioned his priority of image and duty over personal concerns, where most would be quick to.]
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Yeah, I think I know why. [ Somehow it's both a sobering and tiring thought. Markus surely doesn't need his pity, but he has it regardless. Who does Markus have that he can be unguarded around? ]
I get that it sucks... but if you're doing things like refusing pain pills don't you think Connor's gonna' feel worse? Not saying you can't think about yourself, just... I dunno. I'm not the person to give this speech, I guess.
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Besides, utilizing Connor in this pseudo-disagreement is like lobbing a stone into still water. Disturbs everything on the surface, makes Markus reconsider what he’s already turned over in his mind more than once.]
I’m not going to tell him that I’m avoiding medication out of guilt. I would appreciate it if you didn’t either.
[But it’s a tricky thing, given how eerily observant the other android is. But Markus is banking on the perception of him being the sort to just push through pain. That he doesn’t have any injuries that are as bad as what Connor or Noctis are sporting. At worst, just label him as inherently stubborn — Connor’s already remarked on that side of him once before.]
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[ It feels intentional and he wants to sigh, but it'd come across as frustration with the conversation when that isn't what he wants to convey. It's... strange being on this side of the equation. Uncomfortable, maybe, and he has a new appreciation for Gladio's burdens. Even so, it feels like this weight is one that's newer to Markus's shoulders than it is to his own, and that emboldens him a little. ]
I won't tell him. I'm not telling him any of this. The point is... it doesn't matter why you're doing it or if he knows, just the fact that it's happening could be enough to make him worry or whatever. Sometimes you're just stuck feeling bad and not being able to show it the way you want.
You're the leader... right?
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(Doesn’t that sound familiar.)
Both options just sound like different variation of masks to wear. Filtered down to this simplistic notion, maybe Noctis is right.]
That’s right.
[So it seems to be delegated to him, something he’ll gladly place upon his shoulders if it meant ushering his people to freedom. He’d guide, protect, even be the face of an address submitted from a broadcast room high above the city, facing the danger of a hurried and harried retreat.]
He did tell you, then.
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It's really annoying that I'm having to do all the talking... It's not my style. [ First and foremost. But... he feels like he has to, now. Something like this, a realization like this is too hard to turn away from. How often has he actually been able to really talk to anyone in a situation similar to his? Sure, it's not analogous and it'd be dangerous to think of it that way, but he's always been a little too sympathetic to others. ]
You're... ah, no, that's not what I wanna' say.
If you have a few people you can be yourself around... it'll be easier. Even one person. But otherwise if you're gonna' be a leader your life's not just yours.
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I’m taking the time to listen to what you have to say.
[And what’s being said sounds like such a practical solution. Like a chance to breathe, if it were so easy. Markus considers this, then speaks, lacing his words together one at a time.]
But I know that. I feel the weight of that every day. And maybe it would be easier with someone else to be myself around. [Whatever that even was. He feels so entrenched in who he’s supposed to be, that some days he can’t tell where the line’s been drawn — but that’s a matter for another time.]
But life’s not given me even a chance to breathe yet. I went from everything to nothing in the blink of an eye. [Lucy’s words reflect in his syllables.] From home, to the junkyard, to finding purpose in people like myself, to this place, caged in an unfamiliar body. To a bleak future, where timelines from my own home refuse to align; and that’s not even accounting for the fact that I can, apparently, lose control of my own actions due to a sickness that no one could’ve guessed at.
[Markus can’t help himself, he brings up a hand to rub at his eye with the heel of a palm. How did he find himself on this end of the conversation? Noctis continually surprises him.]
Time feels like… such a foreign luxury. Making that kind of connection here is difficult.
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... yeah. [ It's all he can manage at first, finally nudging that tray away from himself as food loses its appeal. He's seriously been through a lot, hasn't he? It's more than just grappling with his newfound humanness or struggling to lead, it's upheaval and harsh doses of reality. ]
I get it. And I know-- that already sounds like I'm just saying it. But it's only been a few weeks now since I lost my home too. Just like you said it... with everything changing overnight. The city I was trying to describe to you, I don't know what it looks like anymore... It's not safe for me to go back and see, not since the invasion. But I'm gonna' fix it. Just like you're gonna' fix what happened for your people. [ And in that moment there's not just some apathetic boy sitting in that bed, there's someone with steelier eyes and a calmer sense of determination. A leader in his own right, if only a budding one. ]
... I don't get the unfamiliar body thing, though. Even if I can't say I love having a computer in my head.
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And then he listens. Hears Noctis speak of a ruined home, one that sounds like he was forcefully departed from. Invasion. War.
He remembers what the other declared his role to be, the day he had newly arrived. A guard, and it would make sense to see the steel in his eyes now, wrought by determination and duty. And yet there’s something else there, something that reflects in Markus’ own core, though he can’t pinpoint exactly why.]
Of course we’re both going to see it through to the end. Without a shadow of a doubt.
[It almost doesn’t need to be said. Something unwinds in him. In the... sameness, that unexpected solidarity, coming from Noctis.]
You sound a little like a leader yourself, you know. You give advice like one.
[Tinged with awkwardness, maybe, but time often sheds that much without issue.]
no subject
Why is something that simple simultaneously a source of significant anxiety and soothing calm? It's ever looming. An entire kingdom resting on his shoulders, people suffering all because they have faith in his potential that he doesn't necessarily see yet himself -- Jared, Clarus, his father... Whose fault is it that they're gone, really? The Empire's? Or... is Markus someone to whom he can show a fraction of the guilt he'd advised him to keep hidden from the people who depend on him? ]
Ah... hm, well, I told you already. It's not my advice. Call it a loan from my dad... He led a lot of men, better than I ever will. [ There's a hint of his honest feelings slipping out unchecked too; if he'd said that back home wouldn't he be due for a lecture? ]
... you want some of my meds?
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