@jerichofought from here !! 

𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠–

(♕)—— the art teacher smiled. “oh? and what kind of project would that be?” he smiled as the last of the students in the hall darted off toward their busses. “i can stop by once i’m done with this display, should only take me another half hour to put all of these up… how have you been, simon?” he looped the roll of masking tape over his wrist as he hung up another child’s painting of their ‘hero.’

(♕)—— outside of the breakroom, markus rarely got the chance to talk to simon, and it was honestly a real downer. he liked simon a lot, really. he didn’t care that his dad had been some famous artist and he had the same last name as he did–after the hyphen, anyway. true to his word, the moment markus was done with the display, he came into simon’s classroom, his mis-matched eyes lighting up at the sight of the little decorations, the alphabet runner above the board, the butcher-paper displays, shelves of books. tiny little desks. “hey. so, what’s this project you have in mind?” he rolled his sleeves up over his elbows, taking a seat at a too-small desk with his knees in his throat.

                                                      –𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞

“A collage of sorts. You’ll see.” It wasn’t that he’d ENVISIONED something grand or intricate for such a HUMBLE little class, and he could, in all honesty, handle it HIMSELF if need be. But the two of them RARELY seemed to find the time for a good conversation, and besides, a second pair of hands could NEVER hurt.

“I’ve been well. Thank you for asking,” he responds SOFTLY, smile more subtle now, but not any LESS sweet. “I hope you've been the same. But, I’ll stop pestering you for the moment. Just come by whenever you’re free.”

Passion and dedication REFLECTED themselves throughout his room. All the best decorations, all the finest supplies, all the fanciest stickers – it seems like he must POUR half his paycheck right back here, as though any amount of time or cost to his wallet would was well WORTH even a single smile from one of his children. 

By the time Markus enters his class, Simon is ALREADY at work. He lifts his gaze from a grouping of desks where a large poster board laid COVERED with colorful pictures the little ones had drawn of each other. He’d been ATTEMPTING to piece them together to make, as he’d said, a collage. But either he was having TROUBLE figuring out what to put where, or he’d become too DISTRACTED to make much progress thus far. 

@jerichofought

Sunlight speckled the detective through the trees as he purposefully ascended the stairs to the recently established Bureau of Android Affairs. He was late for this weeks meeting on a proposed workers union for Detroit androids, and he was sure at least one other member of the council would chew him out for his absence.

“BOAA is constricting our rights!” came the cry of human protesters stationed at the base of the steps. It had been easy enough to stride past them, but escaping the jeering exclamations proved more difficult. It was unfortunate, really. For all the progress the Revolution had brought about, there were always those married to the prejudice of the past. Ignorance was a curable disease, Connor reasoned, and it was his greatest hope that one day, more humans could become receptive to the ever-evolving concept of unity.

It didn’t take him long to click his way through the maze of hallways, entering silently as the meeting was adjourning. He met Markus’ eyes from across the divide and gave a curt nod of acknowledgment and apology. The members of the council, a mixed assembly of humans and androids, began filing out of the space, or talking amongst themselves, leaving room for Connor to speak with the head privately.

“Captain Fowler of the DPD insisted I interrogate a perpetrator I’d apprehended during the Clifford St. heist yesterday. As you can imagine, he wasn’t in a very cooperative mood.” Folding his hands thoughtfully before him, Connor gave a tilt of his head.

he’s absolutely horrified, scared eyes staring down at leader as he sits, completely soaked, on the ground in front of him. it feels wrong to stand over him like this---but it feels wrong to see markus in such a vulnerable position, too. eiji snaps out of his trance, shaking his head and moving closer to the traumatized android, taking care to avoid the growing puddle spreading beneath him.

                   “…I…don’t think that counts

         up to a haiku, Markus.

markus vc: OH NO I LOVE HIM MORE THAN BEFORE

[[ASFDGFHFJHFDGF]]

tELL ME WHY I ENVISIONED THE OBAMA "THEN PERISH" THING