meadowlarklogs | those who died are justified;

( there's a moment where jason considers a snarky reply, a special request, but he keeps it to himself. gives a short nod and shoves a palm against markus' shoulder before he turns and walks himself over to the bar.

orders himself a double whisky and gets comfortable. he blends into the bar much better than the restaurant itself. lets himself slouch forward a little, toying with--something small, metal between his fingers, similar to a paperclip. something to keep his hands busy but nothing of real value. )

[A playful shove against his shoulder means nothing at all to an android with perfect playing posture. He just huffs out air, that sound of dry amusement escaping him again, as he continues to focus on the keys, tracking Jason out of his peripheral vision until he can’t any longer.

He wasn’t lying, at least; he’s done quickly enough without having to rush through the piece, and there are zero special requests (damn it, Jason) that hinder him from meeting his friend at the bar. Footsteps give away his approach as Markus plants himself quietly on the stool next to him.]

Matches. [Elbows leaning into the bar, Markus gives him an amicable look, tone teasing.] Making yourself comfortable—

[Eyes flick to fidgeting fingers, and the whiskey.]

—or do you need more to drink before that happens?

( sorry for ruining your piano fun, markus. but he waits patiently. doesn't even start snooping around for answers, or ask the bartender about markus. now's not a great time, when bringing attention to himself will also bear notice that he doesn't quite belong up here. so jason waits instead, quietly. babies his drink a bit.

up until markus sits by him, then he's all wide smiles, elbows resting comfortably against the table as he turns a bit towards him. )

Me? Nah. I'm not an alcoholic. ( with a glance down to his whiskey, before refocusing up on markus himself. ) Well, not today at least.

( glass down against wood, jason ignores it in favor of hyperfocusing on something a little more important: markus' pretty face. )

How long've you been here?

[Body language shifts into something relaxed, Markus' mouth tilting into a faintly lopsided grin. The bartender, familiar with Markus' face by now, slides across an Old Fashioned into his periphery. The android mutters a thanks, clasping it in a cool grip between relaxed fingers, not making an effort to drink just yet.]

Not today. Good to hear.

[Markus is careful with his own intake. Doesn't push himself for no reason, and he's had no reason to do so. He knows the fragility of this human body, knows the horror stories associated with having a little Too Much. No thank you, not tonight.

At any rate, lucidity is prioritized if he's going to focus on the conversation at hand.]

So far? Only about a week. For a while, I didn't think they would hire me; I've never seen such scrutiny while in an audition before.

[Markus, you've never auditioned for anything before.]

( not today. it doesn't speak for tomorrow or the day after that, but for today, he's fine. today it's socializing with markus, picking up what information he can out of this place. he does make himself comfortable, sits low on the barstool, rests a forearm against the bar itself. )

How many auditions have you been to?

( idle chatter. he doesn't know what kind of world markus comes from, aside from the advanced androids bit. learning a bit about someone couldn't hurt, especially when it comes to familiarizing himself with wherever the hell it is he and connor came from. jason's always curious, always wanting to pick up shit.

this is no different. )

Before this? None.

[The truth comes out, the reality of Markus’ actual lack of performing experience coming to the surface. Not that it was something he particularly wanted to hide, despite the verbiage from before. It almost fosters a laugh to leave his lips.]

I used to… be a caretaker. [The reason for his creation, delivered by Elijah Kamski himself as a gift to Carl.] The man that I lived with, he’d listen to me play every once in a while. But I guess he wasn’t exactly my harshest critic, and an audience of one doesn’t really count, does it.

( a caretaker explains a lot of shit, honestly. but it also brings up a few questions. jason raises a brow, looks to markus curiously, brow raised. )

There are a few androids running around where I'm from. Nothing quite like you, but advanced. ( amazo comes to mind. the ability to adapt and learn, but he was so much less human than markus is. ) None of 'em ever got the same as humanity treatment from the world at large, though. And given the AI wars of the past here. .

( he pauses, raises the drink to his lips once more. gives those words time to settle before: )

Must feel weird, being in it but not. . y'know.

[Having decided to take a drink amongst Jason’s reply, something the man says stills his hand and furrows his brow, just for a fleeting moment, before Markus drains some of the liquid from his glass. He settles it back down on the bar, and when he looks at his friend again, a ghost of a frown thrives on his face.]

My kind isn’t treated the ‘same as humanity’. If only that were the case, and if only it were so easy. Carl was different. One of the few unblinded by prejudice and who saw me as... alive.

[Melancholy arches up in his gut. He commands it to settle.]

So yes, it is very strange. Not only being here, but our group as a whole... having been so helpful to me. Making friends with humans, being treated as the same. It makes me hopeful.

Your kind. ( he repeats it soft, contemplative. as if that's as telling as the rest of the words that come out of markus' mouth. but jason gets it. gets what he means. there isn't a huge android population where he comes from, bu he knows how different classes work. how human beings react to things that are different than them--even if it's just going from middle class to the poverty line. )

Well, you are a lot smarter than the average roomba. ( jason snorts, laughs it off. ) I imagine a lot of people who came along with us don't give a shit what you are, 's long as you're not a total dick. Well, except for Ojiro. Dude has a real problem with gods, regardless on where they're at here.

( another drink, before he sets his empty glass down on the bar. )

Not planning on starting a revolution any time soon, are you? 'cause I'd be down.

[i can’t believe jason just compared markus to a roomba

He would be far more offended it he wasn’t already aware of the man’s personality and the sort of humor he likes to employ. So the comment instead slides right off of him for now, met only with the high arch of a brow.

A lot to unpack in that statement, though, especially the bit about gods.] Doesn’t matter if we’re in a different world; prejudices are quick to follow. I imagine that’s unfortunate for the gods in our number.

[Detail about Ojiro: filed away for later.

But that last remark? Too drenched in irony for Markus to not make a quick remark back.]

Come back to my Detroit with me, and you can join the one already taking flight.

( markus is right. prejudices follow regardless of the place or time. if markus did still have his less fleshy body, this place would be fucking shit on him. the ai war speaks for itself, doesn't it? people here don't take kindly to things that aren't human being superior than them in some shape or form. he gets it. jason doesn't take kindly to people acting superior than him, either. acting being key there: he's dealt with kryptonians, amazons, androids, new gods, asgardians now. his baby brother could beat the shit out of him at ten.

not being the best isn't the absolute worst. he's never been the best at jack shit. always been second to someone or something. getting comfortable with that took time, but.

hating someone just for being born/made differently is fucking stupid. ojiro's bias is shitty. loki's probably an asshole, but he's a manageable asshole. that's what counts. )

's long as your army of bots won't mind my fleshy bits in their midst.

( back up onto his feet and he offers markus a gloved hand. )

Walk with me? I wanna hear what you've been up to.

[He doesn't need the hand up, not really, but he takes it anyway, on his feet in an oddly complete movement indicative of Markus' android heritage; Jason should be used to it by now.

(The drink is given one last round of attention beforehand, though.)]

Most of them would come around. Some might take issue, but they can be reasoned with.

[He thinks of North and her fiery distrust of mankind. Her protectiveness, her quickness to take action that disregards the notion of... cooperation. She might take issue with this hypothetical situation where Jason visits his world to aid Jericho, which is a far flung thought on its own.]

Sure. Weather's cooler outside at this time of night. [Barely, but such as it is.] Let's take a stroll around the block before I'm requested at the piano again.

( there's a comment he bites back about how the hell would they expect equality if they're opposed to people of the opposite. . fleshy side of things joining their ranks. but also he gets it: how important it is to fight for oneself, without relying on anyone else. how letting others fight your battles for you just makes them fucking meaningless, because they weren't won by your hands.

so he doesn't say it. lets it go. shoves an arm around markus' shoulders instead like they are just old buddies leaving some prissy ass restaurant. jason isn't really a touchy dude but he can pretend to be with the best of them. and he's learned that physical contact, like this? makes a shitton of people uncomfortable, and he's all about knocking others off their high horses. )

You settling in here well? Seems like you've gotten awfully comfortable.

( it's an open ended question of sorts. gives markus plenty of room to start chatting or to close it down with nothing more than a nah or yeah. )

[Jason slings an arm around broad shoulders, and while Markus isn’t used to this kind of forwardness from… anyone, really, he’s long delegated him to the sort of man who would do it out of a compelling need to facetiously frustrating. That in itself is armor against feeling sincerely uncomfortable, and Markus just presses forward, winding through a handful of patrons going in the opposite direction.

If he affords a little bump of the shoulder against Jason as they walk, it’s totally by accident, right?]

‘Awfully comfortable’. [-he echoes, as they finally step out of the restaurant itself and into the night air. It’s still hot — nothing crisp or inviting about these summer nights — and Markus fights the immediate urge to loosen the tie around his neck.] Why? Because I’ve found a paying job? Don’t confuse necessity for comfortability. Some of the people in there… the last thing they inspire is any kind of ease.

[A lopsided grin.]

The potential for gossip is promising, though.

Not just a paying job, but a cushy one. ( surrounded by amsterdam's finest. but he's not going to argue it. after all, markus did a great job looking for a place to work. he's got an amazing in if they ever need to make use of it; the rich and powerful are a great place to aim for.

not jason's style, but markus has that flair to him. the kind that matches in extraordinarily well in these crowds. he looks good in a tuxedo, even better at a piano, and plays amazingly. whether or not it was intentional hasn't been answered yet, but wouldn't change how (accidentally?) clever it was regardless. )

Some of the people in there? Like who?

( asked without weight, easy enough. jason won't push for information with him but he'll ask regardless. )

[Only partly intentional, if he was to be honest. Detached from both his original purpose (caretaking) and the one crafted for himself (revolution), looking for a job meant focusing on what he was good at tangentially; art, music. And music, it seemed, was the fastest route to providing income for himself.

Thus, this job.

The ins and possibilities presented themselves only after the fact. Markus is well-aware of them, however, because he'd have to be blind to not notice the sort of clientele that comes waltzing in every night.]

Businessmen. CEOs. People who have weight to throw around. And in a place like that, rife with gossip and drinking? What potential, to be a fly on the wall.

( so markus does get it. the amazing position he has gotten himself into, what he'll be able to gleam off of the richest among them. markus doesn't loosen his tie, but as soon as they're out of the restaurant and far enough away? jason's reaching down to loosen it for him, pulling soft on the knot until it comes undone. )

So you've figured out who to get information off of, that's step one. Step two is figuring out what information you can get off of who. Who knows what. Who is connected into which company, who has the disappointing eldest son, all that nice stuff.

( with a teasing grin to markus himself. )

Got anything good?

[Instinctively a hand comes up to halt Jason’s attention to his tie, but it’s too late — the knot goes loose, and soon the tie itself is undone and rests quietly across his shoulders. Failed in his attempt to save it, Markus swats the other’s hand away in a friendly yet shooing kind of manner.]

They ask for private rooms, sometimes, whenever they visit in droves. I play for them, and I keep listen for what might pertain to us — the fire, the monster carcasses, whatever else pings my interest.

[Unfortunately, with a shove of hands into pockets—]

Nothing promising yet, though. Something’ll give eventually, I hope.

( he's playing with markus. loves to do so; he's fun, entertaining, reacts cutely. he listens easily enough, even if markus really doesn't have anything to give when it comes to. anything of use. ah, well. )

Let me know if you do pick up anything of interest? You know I'm always looking for trouble.

( or how to avoid it. whichever suits his fancy on a given day. getting rumors and intel is useful even if it doesn't seem like it is; but markus is clever, jason doesn't doubt his capability to pick up the puzzle pieces. )

And let me know if there's anything I can do to assist.

I will.

["Cutely" is not how he would describe himself in any way shape or form. Instead, just a man who's doing his best to fend off Jason's innately playful mannerisms. Results are varied at best.]

If you don't mind continually dressing up for the occasion. Stop by more often; make it a legitimate social call. I like to hear how you're doing. It's nice to know that you aren't always injured twenty-four-seven, you know.

You've seen my scars. ( the old burns, numerous other old cuts over his chest, back, arms. the weird bend to some of his fingers. all mostly healed, but--evidence, of how often jason spends in pieces. he doesn't mind them. hell, a few he's rather proud of. ) Don't often get hurt to the point of not being functional, but 's part of the job.

masked vigilantes without superpowers don't often spend long without bruises or broken bones. jason has the tendency to be a little less cautious than most, reckless to a fault. )

Help me get some nice new threads, and I'll wear 'em.

[Hard to miss the spark of interest in his eyes at that request.]

Think you can handle a shopping trip with me? It isn’t for the faint of heart.

Do I seem faint of heart to you?

( a raised eyebrow, the barely there tilt to the corners of his lips. )

[That expression is returned almost exactly.]

No. But just how patient are you?

I can be very patient, when the need fits.

( when he feels like it, basically. he spent years on a revenge plot before it ever came to fruition, that has to say something. right? )

those who died are justified;

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