06-19-2020, 10:05 PM
(This post was last modified: 06-20-2020, 12:37 AM by Marcus DuBois.)
Marcus looked Malik up an down. In one sense, it was like looking in a mirror. But in fact, it was closer to looking at a twin. While a twin might share your DNA, they were not the same person. They had a different personality and outlook. Even their body language was different. A lifetime of different experiences.
And yet, that wasn't really Malik, despite their differences. He was not a fool. Deep down, he knew what Malik was. The experiences he had as a child had left him feeling helpless. And so he had constructed a persona, a part of himself strong enough to not only survive, but to excel. To triumph. He had fed that side of himself, first a small flame, until it had become an inferno.
He studied Malik. For all his strength and fortitude, he was a blunt instrument. Certainly motivating, that was for sure. Marcus' drive and ambition resided in him. All that he considered Sith- the philosophy made flesh- was in Malik. But he possessed non of the charm and foresight. None of the planning and cunning. If Malik's hunger was the drive, Marcus' intellect and foresight caused his plans to come to fruition. It was not enough to hunger for control. This was a game- a long one. Passion might provide the tenacity. But cool calculation made seeds blossom.
He looked at the woman, lounging against a tree that seemed to appear, languorously dipping her toes in the water as if this was her realm. "I know him. He is part of me. And you...", he gestured to their surrounding. "Are you a dream as well? What is this place?"
Malik took a step forward as if angry to be ignored. Marcus looked at him, one corner of his mouth quirked up, fixing him with a cold stare. Despite his rage, he stopped as if frozen. He returned his gaze to the woman.
Malik felt darkness coil around him, a cold icy fury, and reached out for the Force...and nothing came. His eyes went wide, and he stopped, trying to understand what was happening. Marcus could not command him! He was the strong one! He...he tried to move and was unable. He didn't understand what was happening here.
And yet, that wasn't really Malik, despite their differences. He was not a fool. Deep down, he knew what Malik was. The experiences he had as a child had left him feeling helpless. And so he had constructed a persona, a part of himself strong enough to not only survive, but to excel. To triumph. He had fed that side of himself, first a small flame, until it had become an inferno.
He studied Malik. For all his strength and fortitude, he was a blunt instrument. Certainly motivating, that was for sure. Marcus' drive and ambition resided in him. All that he considered Sith- the philosophy made flesh- was in Malik. But he possessed non of the charm and foresight. None of the planning and cunning. If Malik's hunger was the drive, Marcus' intellect and foresight caused his plans to come to fruition. It was not enough to hunger for control. This was a game- a long one. Passion might provide the tenacity. But cool calculation made seeds blossom.
He looked at the woman, lounging against a tree that seemed to appear, languorously dipping her toes in the water as if this was her realm. "I know him. He is part of me. And you...", he gestured to their surrounding. "Are you a dream as well? What is this place?"
Malik took a step forward as if angry to be ignored. Marcus looked at him, one corner of his mouth quirked up, fixing him with a cold stare. Despite his rage, he stopped as if frozen. He returned his gaze to the woman.
Malik felt darkness coil around him, a cold icy fury, and reached out for the Force...and nothing came. His eyes went wide, and he stopped, trying to understand what was happening. Marcus could not command him! He was the strong one! He...he tried to move and was unable. He didn't understand what was happening here.