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 Posted: Fri Sep 05, 2014 8:06 pm
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Posted: Sat Sep 06, 2014 3:45 am
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 xx ▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
xx█████████ ┇ █████████ ┇ █████████ ☩
xxxx𝓼𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓼𝓮𝓲 𝓴𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓪𝓽𝓪
(Not actually in the thread. Feel free to ignore. ;D)
Flashback: Step One, Lucas Merallus
He looked into his eyes, and saw a sort of dread. Kleine -- you could say he was an enigma to most. Lucas considered himself quite the debunker of myths, and men that would like to remain as such. With that in mind, you could say he immediately grew interested in the recently-crowned Shogun that had been making a number of... changes to Konoha's international policy. From an elderly isolationist to a young, ambitious warlord -- it was quite a leap indeed. This was possibly the issue with monarchy -- that the nation had to adapt to the leader, and not the other way around. Here was the thing, however. Not every nation could adapt, or wanted to adapt. You had leaders with all sorts of radical, new and astounding ideas that would never make it beyond the reaches of their journal or simply their mind. Or, there were some that spoke these thoughts, and immediately were cast aside as a heretical false prophet and then the nation divided and picked and chose which of them truly still remained loyal to the monarch's side. Many Kings had fallen from trying to make change, and many more had fallen by simply doing nothing.
It was a delicate profession. It was not meant for one with a delicate heart. Often times the ones with the most tender of beings were the most vulnerable to the blade, to the bow, to the flames. They were vulnerable to betrayal and espionage. Kleine -- he knew he wasn't delicate. Not at all. Lucas could see just from the look in his eyes that this man was quite a monster.
One that, desperately, he wanted to uncover from inside and out. And so he asked: "Do you have any experience with psycho analysts? Strange, observant little wallflowers coming by and asking you far too personal of questions? Or, some of them asking hardly anything and letting you simply speak on your own? People that seem to be there only to... hear you talk?" He wasn't sure if Kleine could recognize one. He knew that before Shahnz died, he had become exceptionally worried about the degrading mental state of his son. It's highly likely that he hired someone -- even in secret -- to discover his ails. What they found however, and if they even existed, was something that he could surely not ascertain.
"Yes. Boyfriend. My first. The man that plucked my flower. Handsome, charming, gallant. Too much so. You could say that I was a little flabbergasted by the fact that my life had suddenly changed so greatly -- that someone that had only just been admitted to my world had come to "love" me. That he asked me so many personal questions without much regard to his own... person. I investigated his belongings. It wasn't something obvious that led me to discover his latent profession. No, instead, it was a bill. It was a particular bill that I remember -- because I spilled a bit of ink onto it and ended up fading the text as I tried to rub it off. It was the exact same. So, then I investigated further, and managed to pay a clairvoyant -- or some form of Yamanaka -- to inform me of where he may have gotten this bill. My father's money." He looked back, to that time. That was before he'd become as he was now -- completely honest. Instead, he simply felt demented. Like a demon had come over him and he couldn't help but be evil. He didn't want to be anything else. He only wanted hatred and desire, and that frightened him.
Everything frightened him. The coincidence frightened him. And that was why he looked into it, and discovered its meaning. "My father handed him a wad of cash in private. To be exact, it was 43,000 Ryo. Do you realize how great a sum that is? From that, I managed to gather two possibilities in my mind: either he was paid off to keep some secret about me hidden, or he was paid to spy on me and reveal something of value to my father. I hate acting based on assumptions, so I investigated further. By that, that is to say he awoke surrounded by brown walls with little to no light. I tortured him until he revealed his profession as a psychologist, one excellent at subterfuge and lies. But, you see, I'm sort of a psychoanalyst as well. I could tell from that conversation that he only recognized evil as a part of his own form of evil. He deeply desired death and the meaning of it. He enjoyed pain and fear and submission. Even as I cut off his arms and legs, the only thing he would reveal to me was his name and age, over and over. And finally, my psychological profile: pure evil." He stared back into Lucas' eyes -- his blue, and smiled as a devil would.
The man's expression did not change much. He was already prepared for this level of wickedness. He knew what he was walking into far before he ever sent off that letter. "Would you disagree with that assessment?" He asked, which caused Kleine to shrug. "I'm whatever I want to be at the time. At that moment, you could say I was as he said. Right now, I'm not. I don't feel like it. Especially because I'd rather not the same assessment from two different psychoanalysts. Why don't you give it a shot, doctor? Didn't you come here to diagnose me?" He was fairly jumpy in his seat, gaining a form of pleasure from the doctor's reactions -- even silence was a reaction to him. Kleine sought to discover what was in his head, not out. You could say his words and expressions meant nothing at that point.
The man laid his arms over the table, and leaned forward slightly. He began to smile, and that caught Kleine's attention. "You think you're a prophet. A man with no equal in any field. I can tell that much simply by the fact that you believed yourself to be something of a psychoanalyst even for your lack of training. You believe that chaos is the natural order, and that discipline is a lie meant only to tame the beasts that walk and claim themselves as men. You don't train, or learn in a professional environment, you only see and adapt. You're naturally talented and so that reinforces your blatant arrogance. But you're not as good as you think you are, Shinsei. You're likely only as good as I think you are. A man that bases their perception of the world solely on what they've seen -- and all they ever see is fear and carnage. You do not understand light, only darkness. I didn't come here to diagnose your darkness, or your light. I came here to realize the full picture."
He was strong, Kleine could say that. He respected that in a man. Someone as fearless as Lucas was always someone that Kleine could stand to be around. He appreciated even the most ridiculous opinions if they were backed by valor. And so, he leaned back and simply allowed him to speak, nodding slightly as a go-ahead. Thus, the man's first question began. "What was your relationship with your mother? Your father? What is your relationship with women in general? Men in general?" He asked this simply as a basis, as he was almost sure that Kleine's issues stemmed from his childhood. Even those born the sort of dark impulse that Kleine possessed... never got quite so vicious as he did. He knew there was something more to it. And so it began.
"My mother? Fake. Materialistic. Whore. Liar. So obsessed with public opinion, even when all she did was talk s**t about everyone all day. Genuinely weak-minded person. I never got on with her. Nor did my brother. She was barely a mother at all. As for my father, I had my golden years with him. He was strong, charismatic, wise. He is everything a man should be. However, he sought to control me as I grew more... intense. That was a mistake of his, was it not?" An obvious implication that he killed his father. Lucas expected that already, however. It was not the official story, but many already guessed as much. Kleine was not quite the loyal type -- not to family, nor anyone. He was only loyal to him. And even then, only partially. "Women . . . my life doesn't involve them. I'm not attracted to them. I have nothing to gain from them. Even if you were to look at it from the point of sadism; domination, I have nothing to gain. I don't enjoy controlling them. They're too weak-willed or just boring for me to really care to torment. That's where men come in: attractive, often strong, often smart, often weak, often stupid. You could say I consider men more diverse, which makes me more drawn to them. As someone of many moods, I could never consider myself content going through a folder filled with xerox sheets. Men are more entertaining to me; in bed, in words, and in subjugation. In reality though, I don't care much for either. They're both just different variations of the genetic abortion that calls itself human. There are only a few that I can really place in my sight -- and for those few people, gender isn't a factor." Though obviously, there was still the physical attraction that played in. No matter how strong she was, a woman couldn't ever fulfill that side of him.
It was possibly a reaction to his experience as a youth, or maybe he simply naturally fell away from that thought. That actually brought up a very important question: it involved Kleine's desires, his sexuality, what it all was to him. "What is it that you like about a man? That might seem strange a question, but simple unconscious things can often indicate a lot about someone. For example, if I'm attracted more to strong men over weak men, it's often a sign of a certain need for dominating presence in my life. Of course, I don't really expect you to fit that clause. You have yourself as a self-sufficient battery of domineering." That was a bit of a joke, you could say, although he couldn't really put it in a better or more accurate way. "d**k and a**. What more is there to say? Next question?" His expression didn't change. He wasn't being evasive, there was simply nothing to gain from this line of questioning. Kleine didn't care for sturdy or fragile or in-between, attraction was attraction.
Lucas looked down, and began the next line of questioning. "What are your fears? Feel free to lie or tell the truth. The way you react will give me the answer." Even revealing that he was analyzing his reactions wouldn't change the perspective. If Kleine lied and played rather than approaching it directly, it meant he feared something greater than even his fears; appearing weak. Kleine knew that -- and he knew that it was what Lucas was going for. So, he decided to be honest, especially since he hated to be anything but. He leaned back, his fingers tapping the back of the chair, and revealed. "Death, decay, ugliness, weakness, exploitation, losing, dying alone. My primary fear out of those would probably be losing. I care quite a bit about my reputation. I don't like the idea of sullying it." Surprisingly forward, he was. Lucas found it fairly interesting that he didn't even try to be subtle. It was as if he was looking for something -- like he wanted him to come to a conclusion. Perhaps erroneously? He wasn't sure. But he knew that Kleine was extremely dangerous, so essentially everything he said and did pointed to something much more grim than what appeared.
"Lucas," he called his name. That alerted the man; deep in thought, and even what you could consider fear, he came to feel a powerful darkness loom over him. He looked up, suppressed his emotions, and looked into Kleine's eyes. "You can't diagnose me, can you? We could go on for hours, but you wouldn't have the ability to do so truthfully. I know why that is. It's because you realize that there's nothing wrong. I am not a human that has developed a mental disorder, but rather, a human that hasn't. The people on this planet all have one particular disorder that I don't possess -- moralism. A trick. I am the base of what a man could be. Perhaps not should be, but could be. Beyond that, even if you believed that such a thing was another disorder, you can't properly place it, can you? You don't entirely believe me, and yet my demeanor makes it impossible to discern what is truth from what is a lie. All-in-all, I'd say it's safe to assume that you have met your match. So, that leaves a question from me to you--" He raised his arm slightly, and began to bring it forward.
"Is psychology the discerning of unnatural and inhuman disorders, or is it the practice of suppressing what is most human about us? The "ID" as you so call it. You could say that I practically live on the thing. There is nothing else, no third or second dimension. No rules or regulations. Only want. Is that a problem, doctor?" This was -- undeniably -- the last question he would ever be allowed to answer. He could feel it . . . the instinct, that degradation into a killer. The arrival of the "Pure Evil" Kleine, the one that did not care of what ill may befall him. He had to make these words his last. "No one knows what psychology is. In truth, it's only a way of narrowing the dilettante from the earnest; the people that are willing to risk their lives over those that would rather relate their findings to their horoscope; their social life. No one knows what anything is, Kleine. We're all humans. We're all fools. Even you. You're not a God. You can't claim to know anything but yourself." And that was it.
That was it.
"You're right, doctor Merallus. Only I know myself. Only I can diagnose myself. I'm pure evil."
And, that was it. It was the end.
xx█████████ ┇ █████████ ┇ █████████ ☪
xx ▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
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Posted: Sat Sep 06, 2014 8:33 am
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Posted: Sat Sep 06, 2014 9:00 am
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Posted: Sat Sep 06, 2014 3:06 pm
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Posted: Sat Sep 06, 2014 6:35 pm
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Posted: Sun Sep 07, 2014 10:13 am
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Posted: Sun Sep 07, 2014 7:19 pm
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Posted: Sun Sep 07, 2014 9:53 pm
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Posted: Mon Sep 08, 2014 1:38 pm
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Posted: Mon Sep 08, 2014 9:24 pm
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Posted: Tue Sep 09, 2014 12:46 pm
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Posted: Tue Sep 09, 2014 8:31 pm
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Posted: Wed Sep 10, 2014 1:47 pm
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