[ markus does as he's asked, and simon allows himself to feel out the moment for what he feels that it is - loneliness and guilt eclipsing more loneliness and guilt. he lacks the network of artificial nerve endings that markus must possess, to feel so much when so little comes in contact with him - a human would be in agony, to be in pieces like this. simon thinks of it as a tuesday. the internal structure of his hip has to be streamlined, reconfigured on the fly in order to house the CX100's superior limb.
he doesn't even know if his system will be able to handle something that is more articulate, more sophisticated. he was barely able to handle markus. twice, now. ]
I pay attention, you know.
[ he drifts, often enough. closes his eyes and dulls his senses and processes, in order to maintain his internal structures. in order to prevent decay, as his mind writes and rewrites and fashions ingested data into memories and experiences. he holds onto one of them, even now. it's not his own, not really. one more thing he's stolen from markus. the memory of markus, seated across from lucy - lucy, with her hands full of a white-hot iron. cauterizing a wound.
markus talks about falling apart, and simon thinks about what he can give him, to replace what he will lose. ]
I'm talking about more than just parts, [ he whispers, as he turns his hips and pushes himself up and onto his elbows. it exposes the inner workings of his hip again, the freshly-soldered and shaped interior open, on display, waiting for markus to affix the CX100's limb. ] What you did, on the train... how long had you been collecting them, like that?
no subject
he doesn't even know if his system will be able to handle something that is more articulate, more sophisticated. he was barely able to handle markus. twice, now. ]
I pay attention, you know.
[ he drifts, often enough. closes his eyes and dulls his senses and processes, in order to maintain his internal structures. in order to prevent decay, as his mind writes and rewrites and fashions ingested data into memories and experiences. he holds onto one of them, even now. it's not his own, not really. one more thing he's stolen from markus. the memory of markus, seated across from lucy - lucy, with her hands full of a white-hot iron. cauterizing a wound.
markus talks about falling apart, and simon thinks about what he can give him, to replace what he will lose. ]
I'm talking about more than just parts, [ he whispers, as he turns his hips and pushes himself up and onto his elbows. it exposes the inner workings of his hip again, the freshly-soldered and shaped interior open, on display, waiting for markus to affix the CX100's limb. ] What you did, on the train... how long had you been collecting them, like that?