[Sodium_noir] All and None

[eagandigh]

He
Somewhere
 
He stood upon a cliff. In the gaping abyss only roiling mist could be
seen. He looked behind him and a vast plain seemed to go on forever. He
had no idea where he was or how he got here. Besides, he only dimly
remembered who he was. Like a tingle at the back of your mind, something
that you think you can remember, but what just keeps pulling away
anytime you try to grab it. He had no idea how long he stood there, a
second, an eternity.
“Wonder where you are?” a voice suddenly appeared beside him. He turned
his head and saw a big figure that had not stood there a moment ago. The
figure was bald and black and somehow familiar. “Papa Saturday?” he
asked. Papa Saturday laughed a throaty, familiar laugh. “No, just a form
I wear, that you can understand.” Papa Saturday grinned a white, toothy
grin. “Where am I?” Papa Saturday sighed. “Nowhere and everywhere.
Somewhere inside your head and farther away from you than you can
comprehend.” He snorted. “You sound like Papa Saturday. Can you speak
else but riddles?” – “Can you ask questions that are meaningful?” He
began to get frustrated. He turned toward him, who wasn’t Papa Saturday
and said in a voice with cold anger: “I don’t know who you are, but no
one speaks to Maurice Bêtenoir in that way!” He stopped. Yes, that was
his name. He tried to remember more, but it again slipped from his mind.
“Forget that name. Forget everything you think you know. You are here to
learn.” – “Who are you?” – “Some people call me the Warrior.” His eyes
opened: “You are Ogun!” Papa Saturday snorted. “Yes, others gave me that
name. But this name is as meaningful as yours. You are here to learn the
truth about reality. But names have power, names chain you, give you
form, tie you closer to the illusion that is created by the Aeons. If
you give in to this, you become their slave, just like everyone else.”
Papa Saturday, who was Ogun, who was the Warrior, fell silent for a
while. “See, Maurice Bêtenoir, the gangleader of the filles de la nuit
in Darktown in Gotham on Earth is just a form, just an idea. He is not
you; he is just the form you decided to wear when you took shape in
reality. It is your duty to realise your true self. This is the only way
to escape the chains and be your true self.” – “I don’t understand. If I
am not Maurice, then who am I?” – “You begin to ask the right questions
now.” Papa Saturday, who was Ogun, who was the Warrior, looked him deep
in the eyes. In there he could see stars and worlds, whole universes.
“Maurice is chained to that what the Aeons created. To the false
illusion they made out of creation. If you stay Maurice you will forever
be part of their illusion, a puppet on their strings, forever denied the
possibility of you.” Papa Saturday exhaled and for a moment everything
swam and he caught a glimpse of a different perception. 
 
Someone lay on his back on cold, wet stone. Others lay beside him or
were chained to a wall. Some of them moaned, others lay already still,
bloodless. 
 
His perception snapped back. “Your form there already became a
liability. The form Maurice brought everything close to disaster more
than once. Lured by their agents you fell to anger and wrath. This
nearly let you come close to be destroyed by one of their agents. A
Warrior never fights against their illusion with anger and wrath, but
with purpose.” His heart fell. “I cannot be, but me.” The Warriors face
came close to his. “You have to understand that Maurice is not you. You
have to become you, not Maurice.” – “How?” With a mighty punch, the
Warrior swung at his face, through his face and everything fell apart.
 
In another perception, someone rose with a mighty roar and fangs
penetrated deep into flesh and blood gushed down a throat.
 
[to be continued]
 
[OOC: Hello, all. I am back and it’s nice to be in Gotham again. Bear
with me for a while, as this might take one or two posts more, before
your favourite Setite roams the streets of Gotham once more ;)]
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