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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[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.]

[it does hurt to give, even the smallest piece of himself - beyond is unfamiliar with the feeling. he's been trained for most of his life to keep everything for himself, never betray the truth inside, never share, and in the moments after, with cassel's reaction, beyond half regrets releasing that single word to him. (only half, though.) he straightens, stiffens, turns away from the boy, staring back out across the railing into the gaping expanse of nothing and stars, sliding the mask of impassivity firmly back into place over his features. his reply is dead even, the words flat and hollow.]

It's inconsequential at this juncture. [this is a lie.]

Edited 2015-06-27 00:33 (UTC)

Mm.

[It's not a yes, it's not a no. But Cassel does know it's a lie. Shit like that never goes away. It never stops affecting you. It's been more than three years now and Cassel still hurts every day because of what his family did. He doubts it's any different for Beyond.]

[He's not going to call him on it now, though. Maybe later. (Definitely later.)]

[Instead, he changes the subject.]

Do you feel safe here?

Is it possible for one to truly feel safe anywhere?

[beyond hasn't felt safe since he was a small child, in his mother's arms. once she was gone, it became painfully clear that the world was an unsafe place no matter where he found himself. there are no locked doors strong enough to keep the multitude of perils in the world away.]

I think so. Under the right circumstances.

[But not always on the Barge - and obviously, that's a no. He holds back a sigh and follows Beyond's gaze, watching the stars.]

I want to make you feel safe. [A naive thing to say, maybe. But honest all the same.]

[it's a startlingly frank admission, and beyond is caught off guard by it; his head swivels to the side, and he stares sharply at cassel.]

Why?

[He looks at Beyond, too, his smile small and crooked, but growing.]

Because when I first got here, I didn't feel safe at all, and it sucked.

[Not the whole answer. The whole answer is that Beyond reminds him of himself, and he hurts for him. But he doesn't think Beyond would appreciate that at all.]

[beyond regards him with a wary eye. he may have shared a secret with the boy, but that doesn't mean he trusts him, not entirely.]

And how do you propose to do that, Cassel?

Edited 2015-06-27 02:31 (UTC)

That's the thing. I have no idea.

[He sighs and tucks his chin against the rail.]

I dunno. Maybe I can figure it out.

[and suddenly, a thought occurs to him.]

You're a warden. Aren't you.

What?

[Oh. That.]

Yeah. I am. Now I am.

[it hadn't been obvious, from anything beyond had observed before. but this sudden divulgence of wanting to help beyond? who else.]

You weren't before?

[if possible, his tone cools even more for the second question.]

Am I your ... assignment? [he doesn't say "inmate" because - well.]

I wasn't before. I was an inmate for almost a year. Then I graduated, and I stayed.

[At the second question, he shakes his head, wrinkling his nose.]

No. That's Mickey. [It's weird to think about anybody else being his inmate at this point. Kind of uncomfortable.]

So you're not trying to manage me. [ok. he'll allow it.]

God, no. I just like you.

[Because he has terrible taste? Because he has terrible taste.]

[once again, beyond finds himself completely disarmed by cassel's statement. for a moment, he can only stare, puzzled; then he nervously chews at the tip of his thumb; then he looks away, out over the railing.]

I don't think anybody's ever said that to me before, Cassel.

Edited 2015-06-27 03:10 (UTC)

[Cassel watches him, then looks away, too, deliberately, giving Beyond space to be discomfited. But he's smiling like he's just seen something goddamn beautiful.]

First time for everything, right, Beyond?

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first puzzle | voice

action.

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