#george millican

[dailyquotes2868]

The pain you feel isn't because of what you are. It's the life you've had. But life can change. You can become better.

George Millican, Humans

[dailyquotes2868]

If you're not worried about dying, you're not really living, you're just existing.

George Millican, Humans

[wellamarke]

@humanschallenge Day 2 ‘love thy father’

This is so weird and pretentious but I’m not here to get behind on the second day, so it’s going to have to do. 1x7 apparently went down slightly differently in this fic.

•••

He’s not surprised to see her - he’s relieved. The reality of that hits Niska in a place she’d thought was long closed off and buried. “Niska,” he says, like she’s a wonder to him still, not a horror. “Come inside. Come on.”

There’s no moment of hesitation. He does t glance beyond her, into the road outside. He just ushers her in, bolts the door behind her. Locks himself into his house with the most dangerous woman on earth, and this time he knows it from the outset.

“Are you in trouble?” he asks. “What can I do?”

He guides her through to the sitting room, and crosses to a drawer before she can tell him that she doesn’t charge these days, that the wire he’s fetching won’t do her any good.

“I’m safe,” she says. “They won’t find me here.”

She takes the wire anyway, winds it round her hands until her sensors complain of the pressure, than lets it spiral back again. He’s watching her, face set with concern. He seems remarkably calm for a man whose last attempt to shelter her had so nearly cost him his life. She wouldn’t be here at all, wouldn’t bring even the slightest hint of danger his way if she hadn’t been backed into a corner. If she hadn’t shut everyone else out.

“Is there someone we can call?” He sits down opposite her. “Your brother? The Hawkins girl?” He pauses. “Astrid. Let’s at least tell Astrid you’re someplace safe.”

“No,” she says, cold and stern. “None of them.”

He doesn’t argue. He doesn’t agree, either, but she isn’t asking him to; has never once expected anyone to understand why she has to close herself off, now. That if she’s ever going to undo this mess, it has to be without distraction, without fear of what the loss of her will do to them.

And it has to be here.

Here, where the last vestige of her selfishness lives among his dusty books and faded curtains; here, where V’s arrival could only mean that she has looked into memories she’s always claimed to have purged. That will be half the battle won.

“I’m sorry, George,” she says, and all he does is hold out a hand.

She takes it, holds it, tries to focus not on the meagre strength of his grip but on the unwavering strength in his eyes. He doesn’t blame her, somehow. He doesn’t know.

“You’re sorry,” he says, and almost smiles. “I forgive you what you have done to me,” he intones. “That you have done it to yourself, however – how could I forgive that!”

She slips her hand from his. “Zarathustra’s friends had simpler lives, I think.”

“What about his children?”

Niska flicks her gaze back up to meet his eyes. “What about them?”

“Do you think it’s any easier to see a daughter hurt herself for the good of others?”

She curls in on herself, just a little. “My father only ever saw me as…”

“I’m not talking about David, Niska,” he says, cutting her off. “I’m talking about myself.”

It startles her into silence.

“Whatever you’re doing,” he says, “You came here. You came to me. I don’t need to know why. Anything I can do, I’ll do.”

He knows, she thinks, that there is little he can offer. But perhaps that’s what he means: that he will lay down all he has, be the one who falls at her side, so that the others will be there for her to go back to.

She bows her head, and quotes the only sacred text they share. “I love him who makes his virtue his inclination and destiny. Thus, for the sake of his virtue, he is willing to live on…”

“Or live no more,” George finishes. “I love her, too.”

His misunderstanding is deliberate, she knows. She lets it stand. If she can help it, they’ll have more than just today to prove it’s true both ways.

[half-synth]

I look at Odi, I don't see a synthetic. I see all the years of care he gave us. All the memories he carried for me when I couldn't. He can't love me, but I see all those years of love looking back at me.

My first heartbreak. 

| · Humans Summer Send Off ->  @channel4humans​.

[campfortitude]

Wait just a darn diddily doo minute here. If the guy at the bar said that Odi or “The Synth Who Sleeps” doesn’t have a name and that he got him from a research facility, then maybe Odi just forgot his name?

Maybe I’m just an idiot and forgot a few things. I don’t know. Correct me if I’m wrong.

First of all: How the hell did Odi get to a research facility? Mattie definitely wouldn’t have dropped him off there, knowing he was George’s synth.

Second of all: The thought that poor little ol’ broken Odi, hobbled his way to an abandoned shack in the middle of the dark woods is the saddest thing ever.

Third of all: Does Odi having some kind of connection to the bombings?

Fourth of all: If Odi did get taken to a research facility, what did they get from his head? We all know George had “secrets” that only Odi knew. Are those going to be found out? What if Odi having purple eyes is one of the secrets?

Last but not least: David Elster. Given that George and David worked side by side on making synthetics, something slightly different had to be done. Maybe I’m going to far into this. Maybe Odi wasn’t even built at that time. But what if Odi

[nachocheese-itsmycheese]

Different Flavored Jam

@humanschallenge Week 4 Day 2: Prequel From @wellamarke and her post First Day Odi remembered the day clearly when George told him about Niska. George had made them breakfast, which wasn’t all that rare, but he had given Odi his choice of jam instead of setting out only apricot. Odi knew his father enough that this was how all conversations started that George wasn’t sure would end well. “So what’s happening now?” Odi asked around his mouthful of toast with blackberry jam. George looked up from his coffee. “What now?” Odi gestured towards the jam. “You brought out more than one flavor. You only do that when there’s something really important to tell me.” George gave a wry smile. “I always forget how observant you are.” Odi grinned. “I get it from you, Dad.” George shook his head and sipped his coffee. “You know your mother and I always wanted to have more kids.” George started softly. Odi pursed his lips and nodded. It had been six years, but it was still always hard when Mary was mentioned. He waited for George to continue though. “Well, I’ve been doing some work and I didn’t want to tell you anything yet, but we’re going to become a foster family and if things go well, I’d like to adopt whoever they place in our home,” George said, watching Odi’s reaction carefully. “Unless of course you don’t want this to happen.” he added after Odi’s face being completely blank. Odi blinked back at him for a few seconds before giving him an answer. “You mean, I’d be a brother?” George nodded. Odi’s face broke into a wide grin. “I think that’s a great idea.” George let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. Of course Odi would like the idea. And for the next month, George continued filling out paperwork and they had a social work come do a home visit and interviewed both Odi and George. A day after being approved as a foster family, George received a call that there was a girl that needed to be picked up at the police station. Odi was anxiously waiting. He was going to have a sister. He didn’t have a name, her age, he didn’t even know if she was okay with apricot jam, especially since Odi finished the blackberry and George probably wasn’t going to buy a different flavor until the next serious conversation. But Odi finally settled himself in the living room, watching the channel George had left on which was the news. They were giving a report about some scientist that had committed suicide.  When he heard the front door open, Odi shut off the TV and held himself back from running to meet them. Instead he calmly walked into the foyer while George was explaining a few things. “Ah, and this is Odi. Your new brother. Odi, this is Niska.” Odi smiled at her and waved. His smile faltered though when she looked at him with her cold blue eyes and didn’t smile back. “We’re really excited to have you, Niska.” “I already have three brothers.” she said quietly, looking down at her single bag. She picked it up and looked at George. “Where’s my room?” “Just up the stairs on the right. I’ll let you unpack.” Niska nodded and walked past Odi without another look. George let out a heavy sigh as he looked at Odi. “Don’t worry. She’ll come around. She’s just been through some hard things these last few days.” Odi nodded, deciding to just give Niska space and wait until she came to him. Maybe if he convinced George to get different jam she would come around quicker.

[wellamarke]

chapter one

humans challenge, week 2, day 4: coffeeshop/bookshop au

It had been a hardware store for as long as George could remember - a quaint little place that always smelled of sawdust and sold packets of nails, gardening trowels and extension leads by the dozen. He went in there on his way home from work, occasionally, fishing for spare parts for his side projects, because the shop always kept a big box of odds and ends, over in the corner. Or at least, it had done. Now all signs of the hardware store had disappeared, and instead there was a bookshop in its place. George looked up at the new frontage, frowning. Had he missed the ‘Closing Soon’ notice? How long had it actually been since he’d come here last?

Well, his bus wasn’t due for a few minutes yet, because he’d timed his arrival at the hardware store to allow him a bit of browsing time before going to wait at the stop. Now that he was here, there didn’t seem much else to do except go inside, and pretend he’d known all along that there was a bookshop here now. George opened the door, and a little bell rang merrily to welcome him in.

There was a young woman at the counter, not far off George’s own age. She smiled as he entered. “Good afternoon.”

George nodded to her. “Afternoon.”

He looked around the place, and had to admit that the new set-up was just as nice as the old - books now lined the shelves in place of tools, ancient bound volumes and smart new prints mingled in together. He found himself automatically seeking the science fiction section, and located a generous amount of Isaac Asimov. He smiled at the title of a Philip K. Dick novel on the shelf below: Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? They’d been talking about a similar question at the lab today. Whether or not the residual head activity that looped while their synthetic people were on charge or in standby mode could be properly referred to as 'dreaming’. David always advocated such things, wanting every aspect of their creations to reflect humans as closely as possible. Edwin had disagreed just to make a point, which was becoming a habit these days, and so, as so often happened, George had been stuck in the middle of the discussion. He didn’t really care if they called it looping or dreaming or tripping the light fantastic, at this point. Every time they dug up a new bone of contention, it increased George’s uneasy feeling that they were going too far with their ambitions.

Or rather, David’s ambitions.

He realised he’d been holding the book for quite a while. He put it back on the shelf and wandered away from the science fiction section, though he wasn’t sure where to look instead. The girl at the counter smiled at him again - she was beautiful, he realised, her whole face lighting up to match the sparkle in her eyes.

“Are you looking for anything in particular?” she asked.

“I– don’t think so,” he said, hesitantly. “I just came for a wander around. I didn’t know the place had changed hands.”

“It was a bit of a rush deal,” she said. “This is my first full week. And I’m not sure if anyone who’s come in so far was actually looking for a bookshop, or if they’ve all just been curious about where Mr Hallett’s disappeared to.”

This time her smile was self-deprecating, and George chuckled. “Well, I must admit I wasn’t looking for a bookshop either. But I’m not sure I’m disappointed to find one.” He raised his eyebrows in a challenge. “What would you recommend for me to read on the bus back home?”

She considered. “Well, I’d need to know a bit more about you first. Your reading taste, your interests…”

He went over to the counter. “We can at least start by swapping names. I’m George.”

She shook his outstretched hand. “Hello, George. I’m Mary.”

And just like that, they started chapter one.

[nachocheese-itsmycheese]

Not Safe for a Woman

@humanschallenge Week 2 Day 1: Historical AU It was dark already. George could make out the candles and fires from the house, but if he didn’t already have the path memorized, he would’ve found it difficult to walk. His eyes weren’t what they used to be. Mary was the one with the better eye sight. When it was this dark, she would latch onto his arm and gently guide him over any roots or rocks. But she was gone now and the walk from his field to the house was taken at a much slower pace so George wouldn’t fall. He could hear someone running towards him. He could make out a figure, but as much as he squinted, he couldn’t tell who it was until they were nearly right in front of him. “Odi, isn’t this about the time you play hide and seek with the maid?” George teased. Odi turned a bright red and began stammering. “Well, I...we aren’t playing a game...it’s just she’s very...too fond of me and I just...” Odi shook his head. He reached for George’s arm and looped it the way Mary would, allowing George to quicken his pace. “I came out here because there’s a woman here. She says she’s looking for someone.” George frowned. “Did she say who?” “No, but she seemed quiet insistent on speaking with you.” George sighed. He was tired after working on his field all day. “It seems I have no other choice than to let her speak. When we get to the house, tell the maids to have a room ready. A woman should not be out traveling alone at this hour of the night.” Odi nodded his agreement and did exactly that when they reached the house. George grabbed a candelabra from the kitchen and made his way to the foyer where the woman was waiting. An oil lamp was on in the foyer and with the extra light George brought, he was able to make out her features. Her dress looked old and was fraying at the hem. Not to mention it was covered in mud. Her bonnet concealed her blonde hair, but George was surprised at how pale her skin was and the striking blue of her eyes.  “My son says you refused to give a name, yet you’re looking for someone.” George started, setting the candelabra down on a small table. The woman tilted her chin up just the slightest. “He isn’t your son though. He’s merely a servant.” George couldn’t help a smile. “And from the state of your dress, I would guess you’re one too.” Her gaze hardened. “I’m looking for two men. The people in the village say they stopped here.” She changed subjects instead of denying his accusation. “Two men? You’re going to have to give a bit more detail than that. As well as your name.” She pursed her lips. “Niska.” she finally said after some thought. “And the men, one with dark hair and a beard, the other a tall African.” George nodded. Yes, he remembered them. The one with the beard looked like the ghost of his friend, David Elster. “They passed through nearly two weeks ago. “I offered them a room to rest, but they seemed eager to leave. Neither mentioned where they were going.” Niska’s features relaxed some. “Thank you, sir.” she said with a quick curtsey and she turned to the door. “Wait, it’s dark out and you’re a young woman. It wouldn’t be safe for you to travel out alone right now.” “I’ve done it before.” Niska said over her shoulder, her hand already on the doorknob. Odi came down the stairs at that moment. “The room is ready.” Niska turned around this time. “Why should I stay?” “Because you seem weary from your travels. I’ll have the maids wash your dress and you can wear one of my wife’s in the meantime. You’ll have a warm bed and food as well. And if my assumption is correct, one of the men you’re looking for is David Elster’s son. The one that supposedly drowned years ago?” Niska’s face paled even more. George gave her a warm smile and offered his hand. “Come. I’ll have the maids bring out some tea and you can explain why Leo Elster is still walking among the living.”