Conversation Space III.

[powersthatbe]

A poured concrete floor and cinder block walls are lit by a single bare light bulb hanging overhead. Shackles dangle from brackets on every side, and the chair in the center of the room is clearly an electric chair. A tall glass sits on top of a stool made of what looks like pure gold - but the liquid inside it is almost definitely blood.

Comments

[callmemeibe]

"Travelers were sent to a research facility, wherein the infiltrators were pitted against the investigators. It repeated over and over and over again until the investigators completed their task. As for the details of what happened, one of the veteran Travelers will be able to explain it. I cannot keep you away from the rest of the group for very long." He waves his hand dismissively, seemingly irritated at that particular rule.

"Now the question of why... that is something that is difficult to explain, yet easy to answer. Moebius was meant as a punishment for the previous Jaunt's events. I was paired with MALBOLGE and tasked to find a suitable punishment. I proposed the Travelers' punishment should be to repeat some task until they all got it right... a simple enough solution to the problem, and a fitting punishment in the karmic sense of things. MALBOLGE... was rather insistent. Zie wanted blood. And thus Moebius was chosen." Death's head droops, then, and he stares at his bony hands, neatly fitted together in his lap. "MALBOLGE has to go and muck it all up, doesn't zie? As per usual for zir."

[loyalrebel]

"I will not be very missed." Malik shrugged, he hesitates for a moment before cautiously reaching to pat Death's knee in an attempt at being reassuring.

"Your idea was a decent one, trying repeatedly until success is one of the few ways to achieve it." His own dungeon had done the same thing with Solomon's Temple to those who had come in to it. "You are not your compatriots and should not be held responsible for what they force your hand in to doing. MALBOLGE will receive what is coming to them, and I will do what I can to see that done. Even if is just ensuring zir loss of this game."

[callmemeibe]

"Very missed, perhaps, in the grand scheme of it all. However, you would be missed, by at least five individuals I can recall, through observation." He does not mention the five he thinks of, but at least one should be obvious.

The pat to his knee is rather surprising for Mortimer, who raises his eyebrows with interest, but says nothing more on the subject.

"Tower, too, cannot win. Cataclysm on that scale would leave many dead, I can assure you of that. I would prefer victory myself, because only I can ensure that this never happens again... but I'm not getting my hopes up."

[loyalrebel]

"Time is relative in Liminal. I could be here for days while five minutes pass for the rest of them." he pointed out.

There's a faint smile at that last bit though, because there are things to have that are better than hope in his book. Hope is easy to break.

"Do not rely on hope then." Malik says slowly. "Hope cannot do anything alone, it relies too much on someone else coming to do something for you. Resolve on the other hand... resolve will turn a mountain to gravel given enough time."

[callmemeibe]

"Time is a little less relative for you mortals, I'm afraid. I have to keep things fairly linear for your species, so I do not risk making my job any more difficult." He gives a weak smirk at that, but it is quickly erased when Malik speaks again.

"... I'm afraid you misunderstand me. Giving up on hope is what got you into the mess you are currently in. Not just you, personally - but why every veteran Traveler stays tight-lipped on the subject of Jaunts from Moebius to the first New York City. Why so many of your number are offline. Why you personally struggle so with what you believe is the lot assigned to you here."

Death sighs, then, weary and disappointed. "Resolve without hope will only lead to disaster and heartbreak. I have lived enough lifetimes to know this. In the words of Theocritus - and I do believe you've read Theocritus, haven't you? - tach' avrion esset' ameinon elpides en tzooisin, anelpistoi de thanontes."

[loyalrebel]

"I would struggle less if they were more open with what has happened. The past teaches us ways to avoid the same pitfalls ahead."

Malik looks away, a boiling flare of anger catching behind his teeth at the mention of heartbreak. There are already breaks in his heart, parts of it's already fragile makeup fractured and cracked beyond repair. There is a perfectly fitting piece found that is still freshly missing, a structure of support that has been knocked to rubble too heavy and fragile for him to lift back in place alone.

"Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more." he responds despondently, quoting right back with a tired sign. "My heart is already fractured and sore, the flickering light of a half-candle's worth of hope I still hold is only enough to see me through to the end of this. Even that is only because there are a few others to whom I hold the light for." Malik squeezes his eyes shut, an unconscious tear tracking down his cheek.

"If what lot I struggle with is a misconception, then I welcome being guided otherwise. You may not be a friend but... in time you may be, and you may know these paths better than others, and if you can provide a trailhead out of the darkness of ignorance I will see what I can do to light it for others."

[callmemeibe]

"It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing." Mortimer continues the quote, blandly. "It is not wise to take to heart the ramblings of a false king so cowardly his power-hungry wife had to commit regicide in his stead."

But the tear seems to deeply move Mortimer, whose stance changes to sitting upright when he sees it. With a sympathetic frown, he slowly reaches over and places his cold, bony hand upon Malik's flesh arm, trying to be reassuring with a gentle rubbing motion. It helps to combat the cold of his hands, anyway. "I will do my best, for your sake, Malik. Know that I am here for you, always."

[loyalrebel]

"He seemed more a man thrust in to something he was unprepared for and unwanting of because prophecy or destiny demanded it be so." Malik shrugged, "Not everyone wants to be king, some of us are content with our place. Everyone takes something different away from a story."

He swallowed, sighing and bringing the iron grip on 'fine' back from where it had slipped. Malik's not bothered by the coldness of Mortimer's touch. It's a little oddly reassuring really, a reminder that the other man isn't really as human as he looks. Not that Malik feels terribly human all the time either.

"I suppose I should ask, what do we call you? Both you as an individual and you as a... group."

[callmemeibe]

"Indeed. Everyone has a different perspective on it." He raises an eyebrow, intrigued, but says nothing more on the subject.

Death does not remove his hand as of yet, his fingers lightly clutching on still. Though Malik has returned to his stoic mask, Death still seems concerned enough to stay.

"We usually call ourselves Arcana, singular Arcanum. As for me, individually... call me what you will. Death if you'd rather stick to your Tarot cards. Before I was known as Ereshkigal, Donn, Yama, Hades, Osiris, Santa Muerte, Grimm... I chose the name Mortimer, this cycle. I'm rather fond of it."