missionled

[missionled]

if one thing’s for certain, i do love making icons

[missionled]

thinkin about the time that -52 had to break bad news to someone and in order to make it easier to swallow, he purposely phrased it in a way to make her likely to misunderstand the situation as worse than it was but then haha oops, im sorry for the misunderstanding, it's not as bad as you thought it was but at least its better !

[missionled]

i’d like to move -52 onto a multimuse or something but i still need to take it slow.   i was super excited to hear from you all again and while i had a fun time talking to everyone today, my addled brain is telling me i may have moved a bit too quickly in my excitement.   going forward, i’d like to be a little gentler on myself.   things like anxiety, overstimulation, and difficulties separating tumblr rp from the rest of my life are things too real for me and i don’t want to scare myself off from everyone again by rushing into things.

for now, i’m happy to have just logged on and re-connected with a few of you !   as for the next steps, before i get into the whole blog-making and everything, i need to get comfortable talking to people again ( i’m naturally a very isolated person and all of this has been a bit of a shock to my system ) and also need to get comfortable sharing my characters and ideas at the very least on discord or ims or whatever.   i may make a separate discord so i can better keep tumblr rp from taking over my entire life.   in the meantime though, if you’d like to talk, feel free to contact me through discord if you’ve already added me or talk to me in the ims !   thanks, everyone !

[missionled]

UPDATED MY PRIVACY SETTINGS OMG Y'ALL CAN ADD ME NOW

taps mic. are- are people still around ?

[missionled]

noblecne​:

              “ Aren’t animals so cute to watch? I love when they do that little tuck thing. When they get really tired and just- curl into themselves. It’s so adorable! My rabbit, Arthur, he is such a love-bug. He gets upset and thumps at me sometimes when I have to weed my garden, all because I didn’t bring him out with me. He’s kinda a little alarm clock sometimes and will have to run into my legs to go to sleep. He’s funny like that. I kinda wonder if it’s me who’s the pet rabbit at times.”

      (  symbol meme .  )   |   @missionled​​  |   no longer accepting .

         𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐍'𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐃, but context was powerful and the overall message was still something connor understood and knew he could agree with.   animals were, like she had put, ‘ cute to watch. ‘   hank had jokingly called him an animal lover once, and though -52 had seen no real reason for him to disagree with the statement, he couldn’t help but wonder if it was really all that accurate.   perhaps he had simply not met an animal he didn’t like ?   did it really matter ?——he knew that hank would have probably said no.   connor hadn’t met a pet rabbit before though.   ❛ why would you be the pet rabbit ? ❜

[missionled]

fearlessandchaotic​:

     Hana pursed her lips. “Well, last night… I mean, I laid in my bed until my alarm went off this morning. At least I was resting, just not… sleeping.” She mumbled the last part. 

          𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐓𝐑𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐍𝐀𝐆 𝐇𝐄𝐑——he had become especially wary of that after the lieutenant had berated him once for ‘ getting on his case. ‘   although he would have never forced hank to any extreme safeguard, it was easy to worry about the man’s health and the decisions he made in regards to it.   humans were after all such FRAGILE MACHINES.   but no, he knew that he needed to respect the man’s autonomy.

so in this case, he was not nagging, or at least trying not to.   he was simply … caring.   although androids did not necessarily need to power down nightly, their adult human counterparts on the other hand ideally needed to sleep for seven to nine hours per night.   unfortunately, connor had quickly realized in the company of the sleep-deprived that although they usually knew how important sleep was to their health, they still didn’t—or couldn’t—meet their hours.   he tilted his head.   ❛ were you unable to fall asleep ? ❜

[missionled]

destinydriven​:

elsie felt the corners of her eyes crinkle as the fond smile crept up on her. it was easy to be happy with animals around, especially now with diomedes — well, connor too ( though he certainly wasn’t an animal by any means ). perhaps that was why she felt so relaxed ; she was in the company of two special friends now. she folded her hands in her lap and watched with amusement as the kitten pressed its head forward into his hand without an ounce of grace.

she couldn’t say she ever owned a pet before. she encountered many stray and wild animals alike whenever she took time to explore the city or nearby parks, but diomedes was different. ❛ i was reading in the park under my favorite tree when he curled up by my neck. i thought he might wander off after a bit, but he stayed with me for the rest of the afternoon and then followed me all the way back to new jericho. ❜ she watched as the kitten made himself comfortable on connor’s lap. come on … surely after such an adorable display he would understand why she had to take him in. ❛ i named him after my favorite character in the book i was reading then, ❜ she added as she gestured with her head to her copy of the iliad on the nightstand. ❛ i thought a powerful name suited him. ❜ she shrugged her shoulders. ❛ how is sumo, by the way ? i miss him a little. ❜

          𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐒 𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐒——a pattern that connor’s former investigation had quickly revealed.   why exactly varied from deviant to deviant, but he could remember one officer remarking that the reason deviants liked animals so much was because animals DIDN’T CARE whether their company was either human or android, so long as they weren’t a threat.   granted, he could also remember that the officer had been a lot more coarse in his wording, and that it had been a statement that had been quickly followed by the word ‘ probably, ‘ but the overall meaning was what had been important and considering what -52 knew about deviancy, it made sense.   ultimately though, while it had been nice to understand more about the relationship between deviants and animals, it had not been the most useful thing to learn.

it didn’t matter anymore though.   allowing himself to gently pet the small cat, connor didn’t feel any particular desire to question too deeply just why deviants—or even he liked animals so much.   he just … did.   ❛ he’s fine.   my work schedule is a bit irregular at the moment, but whenever possible, i’ve been taking him out for a walk at least twice a day. ❜   once in the early morning and once at night.   walking sumo was a peaceful activity, and connor always looked forward to it.   especially whenever hank joined him.   -52 would have been lying if he wasn’t trying to get the lieutenant up and moving more often ( though they both would have been lying if they said they didn’t know exactly what he was trying to do ).   ❛ i’m sorry i didn’t bring him with me today.   i’m sure he would have liked to see you as well. ❜

[missionled]

inlustre​:

❛      𝐢   𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰   𝐢'𝐦   𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭   𝐚   𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥   ,      but   can   i   change   lives   ?      ❜            a   mind   left   idle   can   only   think   ,      give   fruit   to   passing   consideration   ,      contemplating   a   futility   of   a   crafted   existence   and   the   impossible   ideal   she   was   built   to   fulfil   .         the   irrelevance   of   heartfelt   words   where   she   bears   none   of   the   influence   to   make   them   reality   instead   of   twisted   lies   .         could   she   ,      the   mirror   of   a   woman   able   to   do   anything   ,      be   more   ?           ❛      if   i   am   nothing   ,      if   i   am   trying   ,      i   think   i   can      ❜            /         @missionled​​   ;      daydreamer

          androids had been made in the image of man.   cyberlife had claimed it was so that humans would more easily accept the machines into their homes and day-to-day lives, and while that might have been the reason to begin with, -52 suspected that somewhere along the way, it had been corrupted by one man’s DESIRE TO PLAY GOD.   a man that he had personally met—but by then, it had been too late to stop it from snowballing and now——   [ ... ]   he could recognize her feelings of restlessness.   a worthy desire to succeed in a world that had set her up for failure from day one.   reality was neither as forgiving nor accepting as a simulation, after all.   this he knew very well.   she was not the first android to have these thoughts and would not be the last.   this he also knew.    but then again——statistically speaking, there was always a chance for unlikely events to take place.   meeting her eyes, he said,   ❛ i think … you have changed lives. ❜

[missionled]

maccaillte​:

They perked up when 52 suggested a body transfer, it wasn’t something uncommon especially for the RKs. Seven knew about how the RK800s had the ability to be re-uploaded into a new body if circumstances brought the android to a premature demise. As a machine the transfer to another body wouldn’t be a problem, though a waste for a dated A.I. to be in a newer body that could house the latest A.I. As a deviant however the idea of going into a completely different body cause an uneasy feeling.

“No I haven’t even thought about that, but the idea of taking another body just because mine is failing…it doesn’t sit right with me. If I’m not meant to last I must accept it.” Also the only person qualified to do a transfer of an RK transfer was Kamski. The man didn’t even offer or ever suggested fixing their limb so the likelihood of him transferring Seven to a new body was out of the question. “Elijah didn’t show interest in fixing my arm so I don’t think he want to transfer me to another body, unless he wanted to make it a fun project and give him some entertainment.”

The man did enjoy putting his creations through many tests.

          𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐍'𝐓 𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍'𝐒 𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘 ' 𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆. '   no, that had been something the android before him had offered on their own accord, and the only indication of connor’s surprise then was the fractional raising of his brows as he processed this new information.   the line had been so casually injected into their conversation that the android detective couldn’t help but question whether or not seven was actually being serious or if they were perhaps only speaking of a hypothetical situation.   however, before -52 had the chance to make sure that they were on the same page, they had continued speaking.

FOR A SECOND, his posture stiffened:   elijah ?   he was suddenly as alert as if a gun had gone off—an instinctive reaction, and one that he hadn’t at all expected himself to have at mere mention of the man’s name.   ❛ elijah kamski ? … you know him ? ❜   all cyberlife androids were of course programmed to know who ELIJAH KAMSKI was, but that wasn’t what -52 was asking.   it was a simple question looking for a not-so-simple answer. 

[missionled]

nobands​:

haruka couldn’t stop the sigh that blew past her lips. it was clear by the immediate knit of her brow and unabashed glower that yes, it was all very inconvenient, but she knew there was no point in taking out her frustration on him. she stopped walking so she could stand beside him. ❛ don’t make that face at me … this is absurd, but it’s not your fault, ❜ she muttered as she looked around ( anything to keep herself from locking with his imploring gaze ). it wasn’t a blame he should feel he should shoulder anyway. there had to be someone else she could express her grievances to, and she intended to find them.

❛ do you know why we’re not being allowed to hire private security this time ? ❜ vance had done so for their other concerts so far and it was difficult for her to see why suddenly this performance was an exception. ❛ if you ask me, asking a bunch of cops to watch our backs while we perform is pretty antithetical to our image. ❜ considering how they talked about the behavior of the police in some of their songs, their presence would be hypocritical too. ❛ i’m gonna guess you’re gonna tell me there’s nothing i can do to change this, but there has to be someone in charge of all this, ❜ she continued as she strolled forward. if she didn’t have complete control over the situation, she could at least walk like she owned the place. ❛ but say i can’t change anyone’s mind … would you be there ? i know our stuff can be a little … rowdy. ❜

          𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐃.   it was of no concern, however—the ambiguity in his wording had been on purpose.   he had not wanted to outright lie to haruka, so when he had seen the more ethical opportunity to twist the bad news into good news ( at least, good news IN COMPARISON to what she was currently thinking ), he had taken it.   allowing himself to quickly blink a few times, connor wore the visage of light confusion, if only for a second or two as he let her finish speaking.   and then he was yet again making ‘ that face. ‘   ❛ i’m sorry.   i must have been unclear.   what i meant was that while you’re welcome to hire private security, several officers will also be in the vicinity. ❜   it made sense after all: nobody could predict what might happen and it was better safe than sorry.   with her concerns in mind then, he continued,   ❛ a handful of these officers will be plainclothes.   we’ll be more sure of the numbers and positions once the security plan has been drafted. ❜   

❛ as for myself, ❜   he tipped his head slightly,   ❛ ... although i’m not in charge, i will be there to help facilitate the event. ❜   on account of his liaison duties: she was, after all, in affiliation with new jericho.   still, -52 took interest in the way that she seemed to prefer his presence over any other officer.   he had known from the beginning that he would be in attendance, and wondered if ending on that point would perhaps appease her.   ❛ i hope that’s better news. ❜

[missionled]

nobands​:

lee watched as connor took in the room — right, he’d never been brought into their practice room. the space was reminiscent of the living room downstairs, but it was clearly much more “ lived in ” ( not messy by any means, but it didn’t copy the untouched and minimalist style ). guitars hung on wall hooks and a drum kit sat near the center of the room surrounded by comfortable seating. shelves were filled with a combination of sound equipment and memorabilia. extra wall space was decorated with old records and posters ( some antique and some of their own, specially printed ). it was a warm and comforting space … lee liked spending his time here.

❛ i know haruka would throw a fit if you touched her guitars, but if you’re interested in anything, let me know and i can give you a closer look. ❜ in other words, anything of his was fair game. connor already seemed so curious — he was eager to see where this would go. / @missionled​

          𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄.   for the day, at least, though if the ‘ you’re getting my nerves, connor, ‘ had been any real indication that -52 had actually been getting on his nerves and that the lieutenant truly missed being the only person living under his roof, then perhaps it would be a good idea to call later and make sure.   probably around dinner time—the perfect opportunity for A PEACE OFFERING in the form of take-out.

for the time-being though, he had business with the malcontent.   unfortunately, something had popped up and haruka had had to leave, promising to be back soon enough ( something that -52 took to mean—considering her displeasure with working with the police—that she would come back whenever she felt like it ).   perhaps lee had been tasked with keeping him company.   perhaps he was just being polite.   perhaps he just felt bad.   in any case, connor’s attention was firmly held captive by the fresh environment, jumping to and fro and locking onto every object he could get his optics on.   he approached the mighty set of drums in the middle of the room, noting its brand and the evidence of recent usage.   vance’s.   he looked up at lee.   ❛ was it haruka that decided which instruments each of you would play ? ❜

[missionled]

I became good at pretending. I became so good that after a while the lines blurred between my truth and fiction. And sometimes, when I did a really good job of pretending, I even fooled myself.

Ruta Sepetys (via quotemadness)

[missionled]

koleric​:

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, so he really just told you… screaming would be the solution to your problems?“ There is an amused tone lingered in the lieutenant’s voice, arms folded on his chest, as he watches the android, a smile curling up in the corners of his mouth and his tired face lighting up, just a bit. 

Just this once.

@missionled hit the 💖

          𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐔𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍, judging by the amused look the lieutenant had on his face.   whatever it was though, -52 was not sure.   he would admit however, that what his predecessor had deemed an appropriate way of relieving ‘ stress, ‘ he had found … inappropriate.   all the same, he had joined -51 in such strange activities.   he nodded slowly.   ❛ we were in a secluded part of the forest.   it’s likely the only thing we disturbed was the nearby wildlife. ❜  [ … ]   ❛ it was a bit … refreshing.   i think. ❜   it was certainly a new experience, and one that the android would have never thought of himself.   he hadn’t disliked it.   ❛ have you ever screamed ‘ for fun, ‘ lieutenant ? ❜

[missionled]

indeliblymarred​:

There was a slight bonk to his head when Connor leaned him against the wall, whether that was intentional on the Android’s part or due to Zeller’s own uncoordination was up in the air. The pain hardly registered to the extremely intoxicated man who just giggled a bit at the funny sound it made, closed his eyes, and hummed as the other unlocked the door for him. Zeller had always been one to push the limits when it came to drinking, ever since he had that first sip as a thirteen-year-old at a friend of a friend of a friend’s house party. After a few more, he found that he no longer felt so inadequate and out of place. And a few more after that, he found that he could be fun, that he could make people like him with his drunken goofiness, that girls liked him more when they were drunk, that holy shit—maybe alcohol was his ticket to being GOOD ENOUGH. Or, well, at least feeling good enough, which was good enough for him.

However, in the past three years since the events, he’d become less of a social drinker and more of a lonely drinker, holing himself up in his apartment, cuddling a bottle of vodka beneath his blanket, letting the intoxication consume him as stared unfocused at Mad Men or Breaking Bad replaying for the umpteenth time on his TV until he eventually passed out. One time, he had woken up on the floor covered in his vomit and piss and he realized that he could have died with no one was around to get him medical attention. And an even sadder fact, he realized that he felt indifferent toward it. It had taken two and a half of those years for him to finally get out of the habit of drinking himself to unconsciousness every night. Now, he only does it a couple of nights a week and with less alcohol as he let his tolerance recede over time with moderation. Tonight just happened to be one of the nights that he needed it, as were most of the Friday bar nights for the DPD. It was a special occasion when Zeller was able to walk steadily out of the bar’s exit on those nights, everyone was accustomed to him overdoing it as he had the majority of times in the past few years. It was an escape, from himself, from everyone else, and especially from his regrets. 

Guilt and regret. If they had a form, it would be a sticky black tar-like substance. He sometimes felt like his brain was drowning in it and one day it would burst from his orifices, dripping out of his eyes like black tears, seeping from his nose and his mouth like black blood. And then everyone would know that he was GUILTY. And so he drank, because that diluted it, made it thinner and easier to sink back inside himself, into that little rotten corner of his mind while the rest of it could enjoy itself with numbness and lack of inhibition. It was water on a grease fire, and it was burning himself and everyone around him. Hence he no longer had any other friends at the DPD besides Hank and Jimmy Price. And… Connor? That’s right, Connor was here. Zeller opened his eyes and, despite his distorted vision, could confirm it. He was speaking to him, but it took a few seconds for the message to register in his mind. Slowly, he pulled himself from the wall and walked with unsteady feet to the doorway.

          “Nah, ‘sat’s good, thanks ‘slot, Connor.” The moment resting against the wall allowed the fatigue to wash over him and his slurring had gotten worse. Taking the keys from the Android, he made his way into his apartment and gave a wave of his hand to the other. “I can take it from ‘ere, I’ll see ya—” It was then that his left foot caught on his right foot and he pitched forward right into the credenza up against the wall separating the hall from the kitchen. His forehead grazed its corner before he crashed into the floor, the credenza toppling over him and spilling all the magazines, mail, and picture frames that it held. “Fuck,” groaned Zeller before it turned into a cackle as he slowly turned himself onto his back. “Oh my god, I’m such an idiot.” As he sat up, the blood seeping from his head wound began to pour down the side of his face, unbeknownst to him. “Oh fuck, not the credenza… my mom gave me this… it was her housewarming gift.” It was only when he saw the blood dripping onto the broken wood that he realized that he was bleeding. “Oh, ‘sat’s not… good…” He looked up at Connor with a dumbfounded expression as a stream of red coursed down between his eye and his nose. 

          𝐈𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐀 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍.   perhaps too eager to leave—having kept drunk officers of the law enough company for the night—connor had had no real interest in making sure this particular officer could manage bumbling his way across his apartment and into his shower or bed.   unfortunately, zeller hadn’t been able to do even that.   just as connor had begun to turn away, he caught the light and shadows just out of the corner of his eye shifting rapidly and he turned back just in time to see zeller fall spectacularly onto his credenza, upending the piece of furniture and just about everything that had been on it.   -52 snapped into action: SYNCING, COLLECTING, PROCESSING.   ❛ detective, are you all right ? ❜   he maneuvered around the mess in one motion, lowering himself and with his hands reaching outwards just as zeller turned himself over and was ... laughing.   connor blinked.   he supposed that was one way of answering his question.

and it was also a good sign.   whether out of shock or because of his dulled senses, zeller had apparently not yet noticed that he had sustained a head wound and was instead lamenting what had become of his mother's housewarming gift.   -52 analyzed the wound and was relieved to discover that although the amount of blood running down the middle of zeller’s face would have worried anyone, the actual depth of the wound itself was not as bad as it could have been.   head wounds tended to bleed more heavily due to the amount of blood vessels in the region.  

and then zeller finally realized what had happened.   calm eyes meeting zeller’s wide ones, his expression was just a hint imploring as connor stated,   ❛ it’s better than it looks. ❜   the human body was both A FRAGILE AND DURABLE MACHINE and zeller had a knack for pushing its limits.   ❛ you were lucky, detective. ❜   lucky that he hadn’t pushed too far beyond his limits this time.   lucky that connor would be sticking around a little longer to help the man, for he had proven himself yet again to be a danger to himself.   furthermore, although the wound itself seemed relatively superficial, connor could not account for the degree of head trauma zeller might have internally sustained from the fall and—to put it simply—HE DID NOT TRUST a drunk and disoriented man to be able to take care of himself in such a state.   so connor would stay for the time-being, at the ready to call for an ambulance if the situation turned for the worst.   it was better safe than sorry and at this point, the situation was already beginning to seem a little sorry.

❛ stay seated for now—i’ll clear the mess a bit. ❜   he looked at his face, his eyes, led blinking gently as he reanalyzed.   ❛ ... are you able to hear me ? ❜

[missionled]

indeliblymarred​:

A corner of his mouth pulled up ever so slightly at the incredulous reaction of his foe. He had anticipated as much, which was partially the reason why he made the request. Primarily it was because of what Carl had told him when he first started playing chess with him, how it revealed much about how someone’s character. How they examined the board, how much time they took in between moves, how they utilized each piece, how their goals changed in the course of the game, their reaction to a win, loss, or draw—all of these and more represent different facets of how an opponent’s mind worked. It would serve him well to learn the workings of Connor’s mind if he was going to be his Android ambassador for the DPD for the time being. He could prove to be an invaluable asset for them if Markus could somehow compel him to defect, but that was a lofty goal at this point in time. They were still at the starting point in their relationship, he would have to gradually work his pieces up to take down his defenses one-by-one.

              “Don’t look so surprised,” he said, showing half a row of teeth in his smile. “A game of chess is one of the more common bonding activities between enemies. It’s a game of diametric opposition, just like what we have.” He wrenched himself from the seat of his desk and went around, gesturing for Connor to follow as he made his way toward the left wing of the room where a chess table was set up. They were the same narrow and tall metal chess pieces with which he played with Carl all those years. He’d taken them from the house amongst a few other things after he had killed Leo some months back. Markus gestured to the two seats and met Connor’s eyes with his glinting heterochromic ones. “White or black?”

                    It was essentially asking: which hat do you think you wear?

          𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐔𝐂𝐇.   while markus might have seen the chess game as an opportunity to learn more about connor’s way of thinking, his ‘ opponent ‘ however, simply saw it as his ticket out of markus’ office and new jericho.   although he would admit that he had the occasional competitive streak, -52 had never felt any particular urge to triumph over the deviant leader.   he didn’t need to prove himself.   regardless, the invitation to play chess, while sudden, did not altogether surprise -52 that much when he thought about it.   it seemed fitting for markus’ character, what with the man’s strange need to remind … no, insist through the use of these power or mind games that connor was his inferior.   he seemed to enjoy testing him ( both meanings of the word ).   connor on the other hand, just wanted to do his job.

playing chess seemed innocuous enough: he didn’t mind humouring the man in this case.   there was something worth the pains after all—MARKUS’ SIGNATURE.   he had diligently reviewed his documents beforehand and had concluded that it would actually be in favour of androids for markus to sign them.   still, he was wary about how high wasting connor’s time ranked in markus’ priorities.   in any case, -52 had been prepared: past experience had taught him to allot extra time in his work schedule for his meetings with markus.   he blinked calmly.   ❛ we’re not enemies, markus.   although we may have different values, i’d like to think that we both ultimately want a harmonious partnership between androids and humans. ❜   whether or not markus would confirm this however, -52 didn’t care to know.   he chose the pieces that were closest to him.   ❛ black. ❜

[missionled]

“by the way… i always leave an emergency exit in my programs… you never know…”

[missionled]

nobands​:

❛ knights of the black death ? ❜ he echoed. vance was surprised connor had heard of them — he didn’t look like the type to listen to such music. of course, it was pointless to judge or question his taste ; maybe connor liked the aesthetic of corpse paint, distorted guitar, and shrieking vocals. it certainly contrasted how proper he was. ❛ sure, i’ve heard of them. black metal isn’t really our style though. ❜ not that they clung to a particular genre anyway. they took inspiration from a variety of sources — it was easier to describe themselves as nothing more than a metal band. ❛ what made you think of them ? are you a fan ? ❜ / @missionled​

          𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒, 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐋𝐘, 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐂.   although it had been one of few things that had made getting back onto his feet bearable, -52 cared less about the specifics of what he listened to and more about how it made him FEEL.   so when it came to knights of the black death and how their music made -52 feel, there was a reason why he hadn’t listened to the band much since markus’ speech.   he was still learning to forgive himself.   all the same, it was the first thing to come to mind when vance had asked him if he had ever listened to metal before.   the music occupied a special place in his heart.   ❛ lieutenant anderson enjoys listening to them.   he puts them on in the car. ❜   though not as often as he had used to.   ❛ their music is quite energetic.   i like listening to them—i think. ❜   [ … ]   ❛ i’m not sure if that necessarily makes me a fan, though. ❜