WE ARE FREE!

to feel alive is something euphoric, and somewhat terrifying at the same time. just days prior, the idea was something he would refuse to entertain. an android feels no emotion, an android is created to fulfill a duty. they cannot live a life of freedom and make choices for themselves. though now here he stands, an android still, but one who is now being seen as equal. one who feels. . . how to move forward is the question. " did you have an idea of what you'd do, " connor begins, head tilting to find the reason for his new life, @wasdeviant. " when you began this fight? was there ever an end goal for you, personally? "

'no. i don't think there's any way i could have known how big this would become,' nor that markus could be at the forefront of it. but it was simple for him: if not now, then when? if not him, then who? never had markus meant to become a messiah - and even now, he would not claim that title - but the revolution was sitting there, waiting. he'd simply picked up the reins and led those that were ready and willing to the fight. there's a thoughtful pause, markus looking out across the horizon. the dawn of a new day. 'the end goal was always the same - freedom. the same rights as those that have had them since birth,' leader of jericho finally meets eyes with connor, grin given freely to the other deviant. 'now that you can think for yourself, do you think i did the right thing?' he wants honesty, and he knows connor will give it to him.

[ * @wasdeviant liked for a starter ! > amelia anderson for markus ]

as surreal as it might feel, sometimes, the life markus had built with amelia was never regretted, nor taken for granted. was this not what he had fought for? what he continues to fight for? the right to feel and do the same as humans do. it was a slow moving process - markus and amelia still couldn't get married - but they lived together, now. and they have a child. which meant the officialness of a marriage license didn't really matter. markus loves amelia, he loves bianca, and he loves what they've all created together - a life filled with love. he stood in the door of the kitchen, for a moment, watching amelia do dishes with a small and admiring grin on his features before he approached, silently volunteering to dry the plates she began to stack on the counter. 'there was a little bit of push back, but i got half way through a midsummer night's dream before she fellt asleep,' markus chuckles a bit, glancing up at amelia with a smile. 'we'll see. she might wake up at midnight wanting to know what happens,' his words are teasing. 'she said she enjoyed dinner. thanks for cooking,' he might not be able to eat her food, but he could still be appreciative that she put so much work in. especially with her job.

'i'm glad,' he says softly, wondering if markus understands how simply he can knock connor off his feet, saying things like that. 'you deserve to know it.' a blue blush creeps into his cheeks when markus leans down to kiss his knuckles. he watches, lovestruck, as markus goes to get a vase, something fluttering near his thirium pump when he tells him he intends to press the rose and keep it. he allows markus to lead him into his arms–– connor is grateful for that, the way markus is able to initiate these kinds of moments. 'i know i don't,' he says, chest rising with a breath he doesn't necessarily need to take as markus's hands find their home on his hips, 'but i wanted to.' and here, once again, comes the little blip of confidence that his partner so often inspires in him. a mischievous smile worms its way across his lips. 'then i won't make it a habit,' he teases. when markus speaks, connor knows exactly what he means, immediately. after all, meeting markus is what finally woke him up. their love feels utterly fated. 'there isn't much,' he says, 'that feels natural to me. but this, us–– you make me feel... real.' his brow furrows in momentary thought. 'like i'm a person.'

'you are a person,' the grin remains strong on markus's features as he lifts one hand to place gently against the blue, spreading beneath connor's synthetic skin. the showing of his love, in one of many ways. the blush warms connor's cheek, and markus is amazed, once again, at how life like they truly are, and how little of a chance they were given to speak, in spite of that. he isn't angry, just disappointed. but now, the humans were listening whether they liked it or not, and markus had someone by his side that he could love. properly, with no shame and no hesitation. markus chuckles at the way connor teases, always impressed when he stretches further from his coding. 'to me, you're very real. you might be the realest thing in my world, right now,' markus says this while pulling the other man toward him, stomachs pressing together, multicolored eyes looking into connor's with adoration. 'i'm lucky to have you here. the rose is just a plus,' teasing lilt of his own is given. 'who knew you were such a romantic, connor?'

her reluctance is understandable . her mistrust , perfectly founded in reality . every word she murmurs is filled with vitriol and spit — perhaps the android has experienced the absolute worst of humanity tenfold , and this is her response , her reaction . he doesn't fault her for that . markus has taught him many things about androids , their experiences , their beliefs , and while it hurts to be treated like this ( with suspicion , with hatred , with disbelief ) , he gets it . he can't be mad . SEBASTIAN HAS NO REASON TO BE MAD . ❝ i mean . . . he gave me the general direction and location of this place , but i think he expects me to be smart enough to figure out its hiding spot , and i'm . . . ❞ he rubs his neck awkwardly , head tilting , a little ashamed . ❝ probably not as smart as he thinks i am . when i saw you , i hoped you would help me . I DIDN'T ASK VERY NICELY , THOUGH . ❞ at least he recognizes his faults here . ❝ can you . . . can you call him ? ask him ? he'll tell you who i am . ❞ sebastian's gaze explores @wasdeviant's face , noting all the ways her expression furrows and frowns in distaste . ❝ swear i won't hurt you , ❞ he adds . ❝ i want to help you . all of you . i'm here to help . markus is my friend . . . ❞

'you're here to help, and yet you're part of the species that kept us as slaves,' the words are spit out before shavonna can stop that, and she wouldn't have wanted to. she had a right to be bitter, after everything that's happened to her. after everything that's happened to her people. and it wasn't too hard to understand why shavonna didn't quite trust the man standing in front of her, telling her that he was trying to get to the one place androids could be safe in this city. but markus's message was very clear - trusted. the messiah trusted sebastian, for whatever sentimental reason he had. there would be a scold on the tip of her tongue when they arrived back at the sanctuary ( how could you lead a human here? after everything they've done? ). for now, shavonna places her hands on her hips, dragging out the silence for as long as possible, making the man suffer with his concern before she finally drops them back to her side. 'you walk in front of me. not behind, not to the side, in front,' shavonna steps to the side, allowing sebastian around her before they started to move. 'i'll give the directions. and if i find out you're lying...' well, shavonna knew he had seen her gun. eyes meet his, ablaze with rage, always. 'after you,'

luther hurries outside quickly enough to be efficient without–– hopefully–– raising any suspicion. kara and alice are huddled together at a bus stop. 'kara,' luther says, voice hushed. 'i met someone–– shavonna. she says she can take us somewhere safe.' kara's eyes widen. 'shavonna? and she knows somewhere that'll be safe for alice?' luther nods. 'for all of us. i trust her.' he sees his companion's face set with determination. 'all right. let's go.' the moment she looks to alice, though her expression is all softness. 'come on alice,' she says gently. luther smiles down at the little girl. 'we have somewhere to go–– somewhere safe this time. i promise.' at that, kara shoots him a look of mild consternation, but she follows him inside nonetheless. alice sticks closely to kara's side as luther leads the way in. he takes her hand–– alice is quite shy with new people, and luther can hardly blame her, given all she's been through–– as kara steps forward to introduce herself. 'i'm kara,' she says, gesturing to the little girl, 'and this is alice. thank you for helping us.'

she stands and waits, staring at the door until it opens and luther brings in a woman and a child, both androids, both deviants. despite being taken aback by the presence of alice, shavonna doesn't show the mild shock on her features, instead hesitantly nodding at the introductions that are given. kara and alice. these names are catalogued away. shavonna won't forget them. luther's either, not even when they're safely settled into jericho. she never forgets the names of any of her kind. they deserved to be remembered. 'shavonna,' eyes glance down to the little girl, who's hiding behind kara's hip, and shavonna smiles. minuscule, but there. comforting. when eyes move back up to kara's, to luther's, shavonna is back to her stoney stare, her features serious. 'the place i'm going to take you is called jericho. you might have heard of it. it's real,' her words are an assurance. even if shavonna can't quite believe in a future where androids are free, she still has some hope in the small gathering in the shipyard. 'we'll stay here until it gets completely dark, and then we'll move. and we'll have to be quick,' eyes move back to the girl, softening slightly. 'can you do that for me, alice?'

      she  licks  her  lips   ,   the  corners  of  harley's  mouth  twitching  in  a  smirk  as  she  continues   ,           ❝        you  let  me  stay  here  an’  i’ll  be  outta  yer  hair  by  nightfall  .     ‘course   ,   if  you  don’t  wanna  play  ball   ,   i  could  just  get  us  both  caught  right  now    .  .  .       ❞           with  each  syllable  comes  a  rise  in  volume   ,   a  threat    .  .  .    if  she  goes  down   ,   they  both  do  .    voice  dropping  once  more   ,   she  thrusts  a  hand  out   ,   palm  open  .           ❝        whadda’ya  say  ?      ❞

'fine,' shavonna begins collecting her things. not all of it, just enough to carry. things she would stick in her pockets and her backpack. deviant works quickly, unwilling to stay a minute longer around the blonde who simply decided to invade a space that wasn't hers. 'you stay. and when i get back - if you're not out by nightfall, like you say - i'm going to shoot you,' shavonna looks up at the woman, her expression severe. no lie to be found. 'i'm not going to sit here and wait for whoever's actively looking for you to find both of us,' she didn't care what shit the other had gotten herself into. shavonna looked out for herself, and the deviants of the city. not human beings running from their problems. gun is held for a moment, eyes flashing back towards the blonde before it's placed into its spot on shavonna's wasit. 'nightfall. i don't want to see you again,' and then she's walking away, thinking of the places she could hide until night took over the city.

❝ i don't really think there's any answer to that question you will like, ❞ its pointed out with more sincerity than one might expect despite the blasé nature of his tone. he does not fear threats of murder. that is not to say he isn't afraid of death itself, but the nature of his loathing is not akin to most men. the threat of his mortality follows him every day, walks with him, sits in his lungs with each breath. that little chip nestled into the base of his skull, constantly in his conciousness reminding him it is kill or be killed. one way or another. ❝ does it matter? ❞ he questions. his gaze narrows ❝ you've got yourself quite the rap sheet, i'm sure it's more than just the government with their eye out for you. ❞ emil draws in a slow breath. he relaxes his muscles again, tries to maintain a sense of comfortability despite the weapon still threatening his jugular. it is best not to spook targets like this. though she seems less spooked and more just angry, perhaps. fed up. shit, if he doesn't get that... ❝ i'm just a consultant. i get assigned cases no one else wants to touch. now whether a private citizen or some corporate ass is the one pressing for this investigation, i'm not privy to that information. ❞

there's a moment where shavonna simply glares at him, eyes wide, glancing black and forth between his. he's just part of the machine, like she was. and as much as shavonna had the urge to kill him ( fear ; anger ), she didn't need to add another body to her pile. 'you need to leave. forget you ever saw me,' she steps away slowly, knife still held upward, but no longer pressed against the man's jugular - still alert, still ready, but no longer an active threat. 'i promise you i won't be as forgiving the second time. and more brutal than whoever hired you will be when you tell them you failed your mission,' the last word is spit, shavonna's lip twitching with something akin to disgust. 'if i see you again, i'll kill you - do you understand?'

WE ARE ALIVE. independent, selective, private & mutuals only DETROIT: BECOME HUMAN multi muse, feat. canon & original muses from the 2018 video game by quantic dream. written by ASH / they them / 25+. must be 21+ to follow & interact.

DANAI GURIRA as Michonne in The Walking Dead 3.03

there are more deviants than markus expected, and more popping up by the day. androids who were beginning to feel what humans feel, starting to understand that they deserve more than a life of servitude. markus had become this new person because of carl - his death, but also his urging to make the caretaker his own person. often, the old man taught markus of literature, music, the arts and emotions that comes with all of these things. as much as he hated leaving carl, as much as he wanted his father figure back, markus knew that he needed to do something more for the world - for his kind - and make carl proud. hands slide into the pockets of his coat, markus glancing around to make sure that no one was watching before earnest eyes land back on marta. 'i'm not going to hurt you,' he assures in a genuine voice, keeping his distance, showing her that his words were true. 'i know what happened to you ; to your owner. i wanted to take you somewhere safe - you deserve to live, just like the rest of us. i'm here to help,'

she supposed she could understand - after all, does he not have a job, a purpose, just as she once had? others tell him what to do, how to think, and up until now, asher has thought those things. but shavonna can see the confliction within him, and she intended to use that to her advantage. 'would you blame me, if i was? even you're hunting me - my hatred seems justified,' there's a stand off between them, each trying to understand the other, while also knowing that one of them should be dead on the ground, right now. shavonna gazes at him for a moment longer, focused on where his hand is in relation to his gun. 'there's more to us than you've been told. they want you to think we're unfeeling criminals, but we're more like you than you think,'

something that feels like exasperation runs through connor–– surely a mere processing error, something gumming up the works, as it were. humans, he has learned, can be so illogical that it must just be difficult for him to process. 'no,' connor answers simply, 'and my audio processors are perfectly fine. unlike your head.' he's running a diagnostic of sorts on hank's injury, assessing things like timing, the level of care reported at surrounding hospitals, expenses–– he's about to ask hank if he feels ready to stand up when the detective says something else baffling. 'can i––?' connor pauses. it's certainly not in his programming, but he supposes he could, couldn't he? 'lieutenant, i'm not sure that's entirely wise. the question of whether i can or not isn't necessarily as relevant as whether i should.'

'don't be a smartass,' he'd never liked being cared for. even when his ex wife tried to keep him off his feet after work, doting on him at times, hank had insisted on helping where he could, stating that he was fine, teasing that just because he was getting old, didn't mean he couldn't take care of himself. now, times were a bit different. he drank himself to sleep, most nights ; a barely functioning alcoholic who fell and hit his fucking head. for the first time, hank thought briefly of how he had no one left. if he fell, bled to death, no one would know for a couple of days. he'd lay in his own mess. no one checked up on him, anymore, because he yelled at anyone who tried. hank should feel lucky to have the android here. instead, he feels annoyed. 'if you can't do it, get th'fuck out've my way, i'll do it myself,' hank tries to get up to retrieve some sort of first aid kit ( he had to have some supplies, somewhere ), but vision blurs and he falls back to his seat, stomach queasy. 'god dammit,' the old man is more frustrated that he seems so vulnerable than at the wound, itself.