06-24-2020, 12:47 AM
She cut to the core of things. A slight smile played on his lips. While he supposed he could appear to sound erudite in his dreams, the way she spoke- thought, actually- seemed fully alien. Definitely not a construct of his mind.
While a dream might make the surreal normal, the very fact that he questioned said he was fully himself. And this was not normal.
And yet she was right. It would be a waste to divine an answer that might not satisfy him. He looked at her and then Malik. Focused on Malik. That was the real issue.
He knew Malik was there. It had been a childhood fancy. An imaginary friend. A way to escape. After he was older and the danger past, Malik remained. An affectation. A secret persona. He might think of it his true self. But deep down, he knew it wasn't so. He was what Marcus wanted to be, at times.
Even in those moments when he "became" Malik, he knew that at some level, he was just giving himself permission to be and do what he wanted without consequence.
Especially as the Angel, once he, as Marcus, had taken every precaution and care to avoid getting caught, he could give vent to his rage and anger. Chaos with confines.
A weakness, perhaps. But from a Sith perspective, no emotion or feeling was weak, provided it did not prevent the exercise of your iron will and determination.
The past year had seen less opportunity for Malik, less freedom. He did plan on indulging that side of himself again. But only judiciously and when safe. Malik, in all his glorious rage and power was weak and foolish.
And yet she floated over, heedless of any danger- indeed, as if she knew there was none. Yet another indicator this was her realm, whatever it was.
Even more oddly, she touched Malik's cheek tenderly. Despite their differences, Marcus felt it too. Felt the bewilderment at the touch. No one who knew Malik would think him worthy of anything but disgust and fear.
As of reaching into his thoughts she reminded him of himself not moments before, scared and small, heart thumping like a rabbit. And yet her words were not mocking.
As if she saw both sides of him and wasn't bothered. He walked over to stand next to her and look at Malik. His voice was quiet. He could feel his thoughts, confused and unsure. "I needed him. When I was that boy you saw, that is."
He looked at Malik's hands, imagined the blood that had covered them. He looked at her, thinking to himself.
Was he afraid of Malik? Was that why they had diverged so completely in this place?
His eyes focused. "To be whole...it could be..." he let the words trail off. It could lose him everything if he let his emotions rule. His life was a delicate dance.
But it could also be..."...wonderful." After a pause, he went on. "Are you...integrated? How do you suggest we do it?"
The bifurcation had clearly taken a toll on his psyche. And he needed his faculties. All of them.
He needed Malik.
While a dream might make the surreal normal, the very fact that he questioned said he was fully himself. And this was not normal.
And yet she was right. It would be a waste to divine an answer that might not satisfy him. He looked at her and then Malik. Focused on Malik. That was the real issue.
He knew Malik was there. It had been a childhood fancy. An imaginary friend. A way to escape. After he was older and the danger past, Malik remained. An affectation. A secret persona. He might think of it his true self. But deep down, he knew it wasn't so. He was what Marcus wanted to be, at times.
Even in those moments when he "became" Malik, he knew that at some level, he was just giving himself permission to be and do what he wanted without consequence.
Especially as the Angel, once he, as Marcus, had taken every precaution and care to avoid getting caught, he could give vent to his rage and anger. Chaos with confines.
A weakness, perhaps. But from a Sith perspective, no emotion or feeling was weak, provided it did not prevent the exercise of your iron will and determination.
The past year had seen less opportunity for Malik, less freedom. He did plan on indulging that side of himself again. But only judiciously and when safe. Malik, in all his glorious rage and power was weak and foolish.
And yet she floated over, heedless of any danger- indeed, as if she knew there was none. Yet another indicator this was her realm, whatever it was.
Even more oddly, she touched Malik's cheek tenderly. Despite their differences, Marcus felt it too. Felt the bewilderment at the touch. No one who knew Malik would think him worthy of anything but disgust and fear.
As of reaching into his thoughts she reminded him of himself not moments before, scared and small, heart thumping like a rabbit. And yet her words were not mocking.
As if she saw both sides of him and wasn't bothered. He walked over to stand next to her and look at Malik. His voice was quiet. He could feel his thoughts, confused and unsure. "I needed him. When I was that boy you saw, that is."
He looked at Malik's hands, imagined the blood that had covered them. He looked at her, thinking to himself.
Was he afraid of Malik? Was that why they had diverged so completely in this place?
His eyes focused. "To be whole...it could be..." he let the words trail off. It could lose him everything if he let his emotions rule. His life was a delicate dance.
But it could also be..."...wonderful." After a pause, he went on. "Are you...integrated? How do you suggest we do it?"
The bifurcation had clearly taken a toll on his psyche. And he needed his faculties. All of them.
He needed Malik.