It's possible that there are some on auction. You work at an upscale restaurant, so if you hear of any then we'll go have a look. The price doesn't matter much.
(money isn't really important here. he's been saving as best he can, but for what exactly?
markus should have everything he likes.)
I'll do that - you can tell me if my guesses are right or wrong.
(found a pack of marbles, a broken watch, and a porno mag. it was a waste of time and effort.
and connor DOES NOT LIKE wasting time and effort.)
It seems like a game for intellectuals, but I didn't have a real board. The virtual reality board I tried was too immersive and the pieces attempted to kill me.
I can't imagine I'd dislike it, if I could play normally.
(his sling makes it difficult to wrangle more clothes on, but connor manages somehow.
when he finally emerges almost five minutes later, he's — not wearing anything special. as much as it appeals to him to look his best at all hours of the day in anyone's presence, it's the middle of the night and despite obviously trying to straighten himself up a little, well, he's still tired.
he's just more content to spend that time with markus, so a t-shirt and sweatpants it is. it doesn't stop him from trying to push his hair away from his forehead, though, too stubborn to abandon it even if it's in vain.)
Sorry, this is — a real nuisance. Where would you like to sit? The couch?
[Already patiently seated at one end of the couch, body turned at an angle and elbow pressed into the back cushion, Markus is dressed in what constitutes his own night clothes — a plain t-shirt and cotton, drawstring pants. Nothing special, but this hour doesn’t call for it.
Seeing Connor, with his usually perfect appearance now supplanted with a little less care, his hair messier, is a rarer sight. One that makes his appreciation flare, because he has the look of a man whose sleep has been interrupted — by Markus, no less. The android gestures at the opposite end of the couch for Connor to sit, and for a moment his expression has turned mildly apologetic.]
There was no hurry. We have plenty of time — it always moves slowly during dead hours like these.
[Time, he means, spoken like someone unfortunately familiar with the experience of late nights and baleful early mornings.
When Connor finds himself seated, the VR program only takes a moment to start up, asking for access permissions from his friend’s own implant, then projected as a crystal-clear slice of augmented reality, hovering just above the empty space between them. He’s chosen an old-fashioned board, with the illusion of finely crafted black and white pieces on a dark mahogany board.
The white pieces are settled on his side. With a blink, they fizzle and switch, with Connor now delegated to playing as white — if there are no objections otherwise.]
(markus invites him closer and connor obeys, looking him over while he does. the more casual he dresses, the less he reminds him of an errorless android. in no way is that bad, preferring the imperfections that only add to his personality. to be flawed is to be real, that's what hank thought too.
takes his seat, easing himself down onto the cushions. slow, so he doesn't aggravate an already aching injury. he's going to need another pillow to keep him from turning in his sleep, another thing added to the list of errands he'll take care of after work tomorrow. along with getting groceries, paying the bills for the month, visiting the safe house, maybe grabbing an odd-job from gaby while he's there.
for the moment, sitting with markus, all of those things don't exist. they can relax in the middle of the night when there aren't any expectations or daytime pressures, play the game that weaves itself so intricately before their eyes, together without interruption.)
I'm not humouring you, Markus, I enjoy your company.
(connor doesn't waste any time reaching for his pieces, not to move them but to feel them on his fingertips. they're so lifelike, it's difficult to tell that they're little more than tangible ghosts created by the harmony between technology and their human minds — which feels apt, right now. they way people perceive things can be altered, it can change with different stimuli applied.
that's what they experienced back home, isn't it?)
I've only played chess my myself. I'm sure it's an entirely different experience when there's more of a challenge.
[Quiet hours, in which the world hangs still in its pendulum swing from day to night, from the rat race to the its weary recovery. Strange how the world seems lonelier, drenched in this brand of night. But stranger still how wanted company — the comforting presence of a friend — casts it into a light almost surreal in its amity.
He echoes Connor’s gesture, reaching out to pick up a knight with a fearsome facade; its nostrils are flared, ready to be thrown into battle at Markus’ behest. Feels cool in his fingers, sleek and polished; real in his mind, it might as well exist in some physical form, as if it were on the cusp of phasing into reality during this moment between them. I enjoy your company, rings loud in the space hovering above the chess set, and Markus swallows.
Yet his eyes turn questioning as he looks across to the other android, placing the knight back down on the board.]
Well, (he begins, watching the knight before plucking his own piece from the board to move forward — a pawn, easing it forward a space.)
If you win, I'll take us out shopping. We were meaning to go, but I can take care of the cost.
(for some reason he gets the sense that markus is far more invested in what they wear than connor would ever be, a man unsatisfied by two or three rotating outfits. wearing a different one every day... the deliberation in the morning wastes a lot of time. but he'd do it if his friend instructed him to.
and he needs a lot of help choosing.)
Then I'll wear whatever you suggest. Even if it's... elaborate.
[Two or three rotating outfits will never be acceptable to Markus, and his argument would be simple — it’s not acceptable to most, as a general rule. But it’s a habit that he’d rather ease Connor out of via the application of quiet suggestions, of friendly shopping outings encouraging him to line his closest with more than just the usual. He’s seen how empty it is in there. As barren as a tomb. He half expected a tumbleweed to roll out, upon initial inspection.
Besides, it’s a simple matter of both individuality and practicality, as he’s outlined before. But also the fact that Markus knows, inherently, that Connor could turn a few heads if he dressed the part, and why wouldn’t Markus be a proponent of that?
He takes his turn easily enough, pushing forward his center pawn in an opening move that is honestly less than thrilling.]
‘Elaborate’. [Lips quirked upwards, he looks across to his friend again.] There’s a lot I could say to that, but I’m going to refrain from doing so for now.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Have you drawn many of our friends?
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[Where did paper go? Why is the future like this?]
Painting is a little longer of a process. But I’ve managed to jot a few familiar faces down. You should take a look at them, see what you think.
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(money isn't really important here. he's been saving as best he can, but for what exactly?
markus should have everything he likes.)
I'll do that - you can tell me if my guesses are right or wrong.
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[It’s a nice gesture, but Connor is already doing the lion’s share of supporting the two of them. Markus won’t drain him of resources.]
I’ll survive. Thank you, though.
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I do need to work on a feasible budget, but I'll continue to save up for things that may improve our time here.
I need a hobby.
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What I mean to say is that I've been looking into a variety of pastimes for myself. I haven't found anything suitable, though.
I'll keep trying.
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“I need a hobby”, though. It’s actually a good jumping off point for—]
What have you looked into so far?
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Only a couple have really caught my interest...
(HE'S TRYING HARDER THAN WE THOUGHT)
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(But Connor has been trying very hard. He’s been out geocaching? Lord.)
Still, a different one on that list pings Markus immediately.]
Was chess one of them?
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and connor DOES NOT LIKE wasting time and effort.)
It seems like a game for intellectuals, but I didn't have a real board. The virtual reality board I tried was too immersive and the pieces attempted to kill me.
I can't imagine I'd dislike it, if I could play normally.
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Only Connor would find a VR chess board that’s that terrifyingly immersive.]
I’ll play against you. I enjoy chess, and I’m not bad at it either.
[understatement alert.]
I don’t have a real set, but the VR program I found isn’t as… intense. It’s closer to playing normally.
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(a game they can play and bond over together... it sounds fun and he thinks that's something they both need. desperately.)
I'd like that. We can incorporate it into our schedules.
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[He misses playing against someone he knows. The CPU program isn’t always all that enthralling.]
I’ll even go easy on you.
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feels a smile threaten to tug at the corner of his mouth, propping himself higher up his headboard with a pillow.)
Are you underestimating me?
That'll be your first and last mistake.
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Oh, I don’t think so, Connor. You might have more RAM than me, but upgrades don’t count for much in the way of experience.
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I'm full of those.
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I can’t believe you just called me old and outdated.
[In android terms, one equates to the other.]
I guess it’ll just be all the more humbling for you when you lose.
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(smells like... competition...)
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But wistful Markus, who wants the company and the distraction and is nettled down with homesickness, decides to take him up on the offer.]
Come out here into the living room, then.
It won’t take long.
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(his sling makes it difficult to wrangle more clothes on, but connor manages somehow.
when he finally emerges almost five minutes later, he's — not wearing anything special. as much as it appeals to him to look his best at all hours of the day in anyone's presence, it's the middle of the night and despite obviously trying to straighten himself up a little, well, he's still tired.
he's just more content to spend that time with markus, so a t-shirt and sweatpants it is. it doesn't stop him from trying to push his hair away from his forehead, though, too stubborn to abandon it even if it's in vain.)
Sorry, this is — a real nuisance. Where would you like to sit? The couch?
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Seeing Connor, with his usually perfect appearance now supplanted with a little less care, his hair messier, is a rarer sight. One that makes his appreciation flare, because he has the look of a man whose sleep has been interrupted — by Markus, no less. The android gestures at the opposite end of the couch for Connor to sit, and for a moment his expression has turned mildly apologetic.]
There was no hurry. We have plenty of time — it always moves slowly during dead hours like these.
[Time, he means, spoken like someone unfortunately familiar with the experience of late nights and baleful early mornings.
When Connor finds himself seated, the VR program only takes a moment to start up, asking for access permissions from his friend’s own implant, then projected as a crystal-clear slice of augmented reality, hovering just above the empty space between them. He’s chosen an old-fashioned board, with the illusion of finely crafted black and white pieces on a dark mahogany board.
The white pieces are settled on his side. With a blink, they fizzle and switch, with Connor now delegated to playing as white — if there are no objections otherwise.]
Thank you for humoring me, by the way.
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takes his seat, easing himself down onto the cushions. slow, so he doesn't aggravate an already aching injury. he's going to need another pillow to keep him from turning in his sleep, another thing added to the list of errands he'll take care of after work tomorrow. along with getting groceries, paying the bills for the month, visiting the safe house, maybe grabbing an odd-job from gaby while he's there.
for the moment, sitting with markus, all of those things don't exist. they can relax in the middle of the night when there aren't any expectations or daytime pressures, play the game that weaves itself so intricately before their eyes, together without interruption.)
I'm not humouring you, Markus, I enjoy your company.
(connor doesn't waste any time reaching for his pieces, not to move them but to feel them on his fingertips. they're so lifelike, it's difficult to tell that they're little more than tangible ghosts created by the harmony between technology and their human minds — which feels apt, right now. they way people perceive things can be altered, it can change with different stimuli applied.
that's what they experienced back home, isn't it?)
I've only played chess my myself. I'm sure it's an entirely different experience when there's more of a challenge.
(a beat.)
Should we raise the stakes?
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He echoes Connor’s gesture, reaching out to pick up a knight with a fearsome facade; its nostrils are flared, ready to be thrown into battle at Markus’ behest. Feels cool in his fingers, sleek and polished; real in his mind, it might as well exist in some physical form, as if it were on the cusp of phasing into reality during this moment between them. I enjoy your company, rings loud in the space hovering above the chess set, and Markus swallows.
Yet his eyes turn questioning as he looks across to the other android, placing the knight back down on the board.]
What did you have in mind?
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If you win, I'll take us out shopping. We were meaning to go, but I can take care of the cost.
(for some reason he gets the sense that markus is far more invested in what they wear than connor would ever be, a man unsatisfied by two or three rotating outfits. wearing a different one every day... the deliberation in the morning wastes a lot of time. but he'd do it if his friend instructed him to.
and he needs a lot of help choosing.)
Then I'll wear whatever you suggest. Even if it's... elaborate.
(CALLS MARKUS BOUGIE)
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Besides, it’s a simple matter of both individuality and practicality, as he’s outlined before. But also the fact that Markus knows, inherently, that Connor could turn a few heads if he dressed the part, and why wouldn’t Markus be a proponent of that?
He takes his turn easily enough, pushing forward his center pawn in an opening move that is honestly less than thrilling.]
‘Elaborate’. [Lips quirked upwards, he looks across to his friend again.] There’s a lot I could say to that, but I’m going to refrain from doing so for now.
[HE’S NOT BOUGIE]
And in the highly unlikely event that you win?
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