recinerate | first puzzle

Entry tags:

first puzzle | voice

[beyond was dead, and now he's not.

it's a perplexing position for anyone to find themselves in, of course, but even more so when there's something fundamental about that person that's gone missing - something that should be there, but isn't. beyond has found he is missing such a thing, and has decided to take advantage of the technology of this new place in order to work out his thoughts regarding this dilemma.]

"In the social jungle of human existence, there is no feeling of being alive without a sense of identity."

[his voice is quiet, raspy, almost unnaturally even in tone. he pauses, then picks up with one of many questions currently on his mind, addressing anyone within earshot.]

What shapes your sense of identity?

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[His eyes widen slightly at the question, as if in surprise. It's not an utterly genuine response, but he is a good liar. Honestly, he expected this to come up at some point. Someone who doesn't show his face to the network, who gives a name that sounds like a code, who asks a question like he did in order to get the measure of everyone . . . there's no trust there.]

[Cassel doesn't trust him, either. Not yet. There's any number of unknowns to consider when talking to someone new on the Barge. But he believes in honesty, now, even if it's a crooked kind.]

Because you asked me a question, and I want to answer it the best I can.

[it's utterly foreign, for beyond, to be treated with any sort of honesty. but the drive for more information burns from deep inside, melded to the marrow of his bones. so he nods, encouraging cassel to continue.]

Very well. What is your answer?

[He nods, but, before he continues speaking, he picks his gloves up and pulls them back on one at a time. Once they're fit snugly onto his hands again, he crosses his arms over his chest and leans back against the railing.]

The reason I say I could do this since before I could remember isn't because I could do it since I was a baby. It's because the memories of being able to do it were replaced by something else. My brother pulled the memories of my identity out of my head and replaced them with something else. He wanted me to think that I was ordinary, and a murderer, instead of a worker.

[And a murderer. But. It's complicated.]

When I thought I was ordinary, I acted differently than I do now. When my history was different, I made myself different to conform to that history.

[beyond keeps his expression fixed in flatness as he listens to cassel's response, but a cloud of something dark and ugly settles in behind his eyes. it's not the same, not really even close to the betrayal he himself experienced at L's hands, in L's House, but on a fundamental level, does it really matter? it's a betrayal by someone close, about the core of who he is, and that's close enough to count, for beyond.]

And a worker is ... what you call someone with your abilities? [he guesses, placing both hands back into his pockets.] It makes sense, logically, that you would act differently, based on your memories. As you've already mentioned, the link between history and identity is not insignificant, and memory too is tied to history.

Edited 2015-06-26 21:05 (UTC)

That's right. There's a bunch of different kinds. I can tell you about those, too, if you want.

[Cassel pauses for a moment, deliberately.]

I used to think there wasn't any hope for me. That was part of my identity, too.

[he nods.] When you were made to believe you were a murderer? Or after you discovered the truth?

[if it's the latter, beyond knows this feeling all too well.]

Both. But it was different, afterwards.

[He sighs, running his hands through his hair, and looks kind of past Beyond's shoulder, across the deck and into space.]

I told you my brother did it. But my other brother and my mom, they were in on it, too. And that was almost everybody I trusted in the whole world, you know? So it was . . . I don't know. Afterwards, it felt like it was me against the world.

You were betrayed by those you loved. [beyond's jaw goes tight, just for a moment.] What did you do, afterwards?

[Out of the corner of his eye, Cassel sees it. Doesn't comment, just files it away. He knows how to collect information, too.]

I tricked them. They were trying to kill this guy, Zacharov, and take over from him, and I fucked it up for them. My brother who took my memories - Barron - I conned him into thinking he was on my side. It didn't work forever, but it worked for a while.

. . . I never did anything to my mom. I don't know. I wanted to, but I never did.

You took your revenge on them.

[it's what beyond did, to L, to the institution where he'd spent most of his life. only there's one key difference between the parallels beyond draws between cassel's story and his own:]

And you succeeded.

[He smiles. A little sad, but. There's no lie in what Beyond is saying.]

I did.

[a sharp tilt of his head.]

And how did that piece of history shape your identity, Cassel?

[He opens his mouth, hesitates. Closes it again.]

It made me arrogant, I think. It made me make a lot of mistakes later.

But it also felt righteous.

[beyond turns, leans against the railing, stares out at the void of space around them with unfocused eyes. he'll never know what it would feel like to have succeeded in his challenge against L.

then again, if he had succeeded, he would be dead anyway. he wouldn't feel anything.]

What sorts of mistakes can you trace back to this incident?

[He shifts so that he's facing Beyond more directly, body language open, and shrugs.]

Well, remember how I said I tricked my brother? He found out about it later. He hurt me back, only worse. If I had told him the truth, maybe that wouldn't have happened.

Maybe it would have. It's hard to know, with Barron.

He took revenge against you. And succeeded.

[A crooked smile.]

Yep. And round and round we go.

[beyond takes a deep breath and then exhales quickly.]

What was done to you is unforgivable. You were right to retaliate.

[For the first time in this conversation, Cassel looks - and is - genuinely surprised. He hasn't been reaching for sympathy; he's just been telling the truth. To get a statement so relatively impassioned is - well. It hurts and feels good, both in ways he wasn't expecting.]

You think so?

[beyond shifts, turning toward cassel, gaze sharp on the boy, words taut with an undercurrent of restrained rage.]

Your identity is the very core of who you are - it's fundamental to your entire existence. No one should ever have that toyed with. [he all but spits the word toyed, and gives a quick shake of his head.] Not ever.

[In the face of Beyond's understated rage, Cassel softens. He was right to do this, right to share. There is something here that needs sharing, oxygenation, venting and care.]

You're right. No one should ever have the right to mess with what makes you who you are.

Can I ask you a question?

[another moment of allowing the simmering fury inside to bubble up, and beyond thinks his entire body might actually explode into a thousand pieces, the same way he felt his heart rip itself apart when he died. so he inhales quickly, and crams a lid on his inner cauldron, and nods.]

You may. [no promises he'll answer truthfully, though.]

[He knows this, and doesn't expect the truth, necessarily. He thinks he already has it, or part of it, an important fragment. This is a push, but he's also fully willing to be pushed back.]

Did someone toy with you?

[What he really wants to ask is who was it?]

[beyond could easily lie here. he's never admitted to the reason that drove him to commit three murders and make an attempt on his own life - not after he was caught by naomi misora and questioned, not once during his trial or incarceration. you'll never know, i'll never tell, he'd giggled, each time he was asked, through the searing pain of his burnt flesh and the drugs he was given to dull it. he'd buried the secret so deep inside of himself it would never see the light of day; he'd made sure of it. L had taken so much from him, and beyond refused to give him anything more of himself.

but this boy - beyond is disarmed by his honesty, and the similarities he's drawn from his story. what's more, he feels a kind of sympathy, a recognition of what is similar between them - no matter that it's small, it's still there, it exists, and if there is one thing that beyond has lacked, craved, throughout his entire life, it is a thread of connection with another who is like him, even just a little bit.

so he offers the truth. lips pressed together in a thin line, he nods.]

Yes.

[What Beyond gives him now is honest. Cassel knows that in the same way that he knows that it hurts to give, because it always hurts to tell the truth the first time, to probe that wound, to let someone in. It means a lot, that Beyond is trusting him with the truth. It means more than he could ever begin to articulate.]

[Instead of trying to, he offers the truth in return, no questions, just the truth, written all over his face in sorrow and sympathy.]

I'm sorry. That shouldn't have happened to you.

[It shouldn't happen to anyone. He would take it away if he could, make it unhappen, make things better. But he doesn't have that ability. All he has the capacity to do is change what is, not what has been.]

[It's in this moment that he decides that no one will toy with Beyond here. Along with sympathy there rests something flinty, something angry in his eyes. Something determined.]

action.

action.

action.

action.

action.

action.

action.

action.

action.

action.

action.

action.

action.

action.

action.

action.

action.

action.

action.

action.

action.

action.

action.

action.

action.