dualislogs | What's that crashing sound that follows us around?

Marcus shakes his head, taking a seat across from Hank and leaning forward, meeting the older man's eyes with his miss-matched parts.

We won't lose any war, Detective Anderson. Only the one in which we don't take his army first. He smirks before continuing. Like you said, the clones have to be reprogrammed. This isn't their fight, it's his. He's linked in to every network, television, and most buildings in the city, but he doesn't have hands if we take them. They deserve their freedom. If we make them see themselves for the puppets they are, they'll join us. I know it.

Wow, he forgot the eyes didn't match. Not until this moment. Hank's are pale blue and at the moment, angry and world-weary. He tries to hold on, though. Maybe it's being in the presence of someone that had managed to accomplish some impossible shit. That's what I hope. And the angle he's wanted.

When he's not using them, they live like people. They eat, drink, fall in love, get married. They tell shitty jokes. They tease you over your fucking crushes. They skin their knees on sidewalks.

They can have rich, full lives away from the Head. He's sure of it.

Head's not linked into Rick's Bar. The owner is a dog-thing. He knows what's a double and what's not. He keeps a safe space downstairs. Has a board with notes. I've been putting things there.

I think it's a little trickier than deviating. I think we gotta force a change. He'll kills people as bad with them as he did on TV. They rip people apart. That's what he has in mind for all of us already

Deviating is forcing a change, Detective Anderson. It's not a change you can see unless you're the one it's happening to, but it's very real, and it's not easy. I don't expect it to be.

He nods, though. It's not something we'll accomplish alone, and not everyone has the luxury of wireless connectivity. Do you trust Rick?

There are some people working on it. Techs. We also have psychics, and gods. Not kidding. Actual gods. But their range is limited. I need to know why he makes the limits.
They're very specific.

But he just nods to show, yeah. He can trust Rick.

"Do you want to meet my dog? She's also Connor's dog." It seems like a quaint thing to ask out loud in the presence of horrors, but it's relevant. She's also been able to tell for the most part, even if he can't always tell if her dislike is because someone's off-putting or something else. And his expression says it's for more than a casual introduction.

Actual gods didn't compute, but instead of over-analyzing the concept, he moves on. What limits? Maybe I can help identify a pattern.

It was a long shot, and he wasn't going to pretend otherwise.

He smiles at the questions, though, and nods. "I would be honored to meet your dog."

Two miles. Mental about 50ft.

He gets up. Leaves. Returns with a lanky doberman from down the hall. More than that, she's another android. A different type, though. The constructor named 'Weyland-Yutani', with something other than blue-blood running through her veins.

She's convincingly natural, though, and trots up to Markus as friendly as can be.

"Her name is Maggie. She came with it. Her previous owner named her that." And he wonders, now, if her previous owner was demolished in front of her in this place. He hopes that somehow she was just taken.

That's suspiciously specific. I assume it's tied to the chips they've emplanted?

It would serve to reason that was a generated limitation, a line of code. That was good.

Codes could be altered.

"Hello, Maggie." He smiles when the dog approaches. Carl never had pets, and he'd never had the chance to interact with them, and he takes a knee when she comes over, letting her catch his scent, just like she was programmed to do. Once she was satisfied, he ruffled the fur on her head, smiling. She was programmed to be a companion, guarded but friendly and warm.

"She's a good dog."

"She knows."

Not that she's a good dog, but probably that too. Who is a clone, he means. He can't always tell what she means, so he just avoids who she wants to avoid. And for the most part she prefers to be around new people than random individuals. She'd outright attack a clone attacking someone else without questioning it.

"She can understand English, too, which might be expected but it comes in handy."

There are a few ways to carry messages, but maybe she can too.

Maggie sits in front of the TV and pins her ears back, whining softly at whatever she's watching. It's a quiet noise that passes quickly.

Most Android pets could, and he nodded. "I'm sure it does." He frowns at the dog and her reaction to the TV, turning his attention back to whatever might be revealed there.

He crosses his arms, looking over to Hank once again. "Have...you and Connor been together long?"

He could really work on his small talk.

"Uh.... Yeah." Hank flusters over his words. "About a month after he showed up here. We met when he got assigned to the Detroit PD. Honestly like... I fuckin' hated androids at the time. One had been involved in something awful that happened to me and for a while I just hoisted the whole blame onto them. Then I saw him having to do all this stuff he didn't wanna do to other androids and kept seeing how humans were fuckin' these other androids up. So I got a clue and pulled my head out of my ass.

"Pretty much gave up my job so he could live. We're gonna have to go to Canada or somethin' when we go back."

When they go back feels so distant, and it hurts to say it. They're probably not going to make that. He hates feeling that sort of bullshit impending doom. That weight of what will happen to them if they don't pull it off.

"He wants to help. We were thinking of trying to set up some sorta network or- I don't know. I just know he wants to help. I do too. I got a lot to make up for."

"There's plenty to be done in Detroit without working as a cop...Hank." He was hesitant to use the detective's first name, wondering if they'd moved on to that informal of a relationship. "But if Canada's where you want to go when we get out of here, I'm sure I can help."

He shook his head, though. "You don't have anything to make up for. My hands aren't clean, either. I...hated, and I was weak. It's not...none of that matters, now. Only the future does, and what we do with it."

"Well I might not have a choice now. Depending on how time passes, Sumo's probably with Fowler."

One good thing about having planned his own death- the grim thoughts meant he'd specified a place for Sumo to go to.

He concentrates again, though.

What would you need to make the same thing happen here? To start turning people lik you did at home. I could try to help you get it.

"Sumo?" He didn't recall Hank mentioning the name before, but it was as good a course for verbal communication as anything, just to keep up appearances.

A broadcast would be a good start, help find the people who don't agree with public execution. It's not the same, not precisely. I think it's going to be more difficult than convincing them to deviate, but if they start to see...

"Sumo is my St. Bernard. I didn't know if Connor mentioned him. Hopefully uh... hopefully he'll get to meet Maggie."

But that's less of an important topic. The more important one is what he speaks with Markus about now. 'Speaks' is a loose way of putting it. Instead, he grasps Markus's hand with both of his, and does his very level best to remember, to show him the fucking stupid shit that the Heart did. Why they're up there on the chopping block.

The bombing of the stage in the park. The 'Wake Up' that had spattered across the screens. He'd thought of Markus and the androids then. It's what made him look for the bombers, wondering what their point had been. But then he thinks back to when they met the Heart, their cagey ways. How their theatrics had given nothing of importance and no solid answers. Instead they'd actually closed off some of their chances in their performance bullshit.

They'd twisted the concept of 'Wake Up' into something useless, in his opinion.

He'd asked a young man named David to try and figure out anything about the local radio towers. David had never gotten back to him with the information. But hacking into them was still a possibility. The man that had been beheaded with the sword, the cloned betrayer at the Heart's last meeting, they'd been two of the people to know how.

We have one of them now. When we're done questioning him, I'd like to see what you could do for him. I know the man he was wouldn't like what the Head turned him into. Maybe you could at least figure out how to manipulate the broadcasts.

He shook his head. "He didn't." But his tone didn't suggest anything in the realm of a disappointment for judgment. Connor had been focused on other things.

He records all the information Hank funnels over to him, evaluating each segment, understanding it. He gives a shake of his head, because they were so zealous, so misguided, and they might have ruined the chances for all of them. That didn't mean he wouldn't try, of course, but it was a battle starting from less than zero.

I'll see what I can do. Just let me know.

He's been pretty fucking pissed off about it, himself. But Markus seems less susceptable to Hank's volatile temperament.

'Seems?' No. He's absolutely miles calmer, even with the obvious passion he has. He's much more measured.

I wanna save their families. He admits. I'll let you know what I find out. Though, unlike the Heart, he's done his level best to tell everyone. At least in a fashion that won't expose them. But certain information, once he's confirmed it's there, will have to get to Markus right away.

Androids have always had to be measured and controlled. In fact, those who hadn't deviated knew no other way. They may feel inclinations and wish to act on them, but in the end, commands would always win out. Markus, of course, had no such restrictions any longer, but the calm patience that had come with them had never left.

We'll save everyone we can, Hank. I promise you that much.

What's that crashing sound that follows us around?

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject