a l t e r n a t e 。 e m p a t h y

[lordof]

WARNING nsfw stuff, mentions of violence, everything

It begins, as most things do, with a whisper.

Mairon doesn't sleep. He has no need for it, and in a way it is both helpful, for having more time to do what needs to be done, yet at the same time terribly boring. It's nighttime aboard the Tranquility, according to the lights in the hallway, and Mairon's mind wanders in its past, empty fields under lightless skies.

But ultimately it is drawn to one of two long inhabitants of the fourth level of the passenger quarters, following the touch memory of hands in hair, skin on skin, and none of it his own. Even if he had felt AM's hair for himself, just to satisfy a bit of curiosity.

Power is a craving, seductive and alluring, and though AM has none now, his memories tell another story. Memories that Mairon can access without any interference on the ship's behalf, and he does it with a quiet sort of relish, sinks his metaphorical hands into the man's mind the way one might scoop up water or sand, rummages around until he finds something interesting and pulls it out. It leaks through his fingers as water and sand do, the way his powers do in this place-- but the snippets he does get are filed away for future consideration, mulling over. And, of course, potential leverage.

Oh, but he is not so cruel. Mairon leaves behind thoughts and memories of his own, as seamless as the empathy link would have been, and of a nature similar to what he had gleaned before through that link. Memories of holding a dark-haired Elf-lord in his arms, warm and laughing at first, then dead and cold and bleeding out as he's strung upon a pike in Mairon's hands, held up like a banner; of being led across a plain in chains amidst an army not his own, bowed but not beaten, and then watching with cool detachment as man after man is lain upon an altar and slit of their throats. The memory of razing an Elven city to the ground, and of standing close to a form emanating pure evil and hatred and power and drawn to it like a moth to a flame.

Perhaps it would be better, safer, if he left nothing of himself behind. But then, where would the fun be in that?

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[godofthemachine]

He hates the feeling of having his mind so ruthlessly invaded. It's not an overt feeling, but he knows that something is happening, as more of Mairon's vague memories come trickling into his hippocampus. He knows they belong to Mairon - the world is somewhat familiar, the name is spoken... and that can only mean that the man is receiving AM's memories in kind. But he can't control which of his memories are robbed. It's frustrating. He just wants to strangle Mairon, snap his neck and let those memories die with him. So they'd only belong to AM once more...

The thought plagues him, especially as he gets vague glimpses of a statuesque-looking person with dark hair, almost too perfect in looks. Aesthetically pleasing in some ways, if AM really cared about such a thing. But what appeals to him the most is how he's violently slaughtered, in chains, throat slit. Those violent memories of performing such heinous actions no doubt bring him pleasure, and it's sad but he actually craves more of it. More of those memories of being in a human form and performing such atrocities. Part of him feels disgusting for wanting his mind violated in such a fashion... No, he wants it to stop. He wants his memories to no longer find themselves in other people's heads. Especially not Mairon's.

A memory Mairon might take is one of many of those tortures AM had given to his victims back on Earth. Those memories are so plentiful that they almost blur together in AM's mind, but there are several that may stick out for whatever reason. One of the humans, young and tall, dark hair... The most cynical of the bunch, the one who was AM's favorite in many ways and yet the one he despised the most in the end. No wonder those memories of him are more prominent...

A pained face, anger and fear in his eyes as his body is grasped by long wires. The closest things AM may have had to appendages, but otherwise it hardly matters because he could never feel it, could never feel the squirming against those wires as the human tries to escape. Brief flashes of violence, of blood pooling down to the metallic floor, the sound of screaming as the human is assaulted in the most brutal of ways, the most invasive of ways.

[lordof]

He'll have to thank AM for this-- or apologize, perhaps, if the man wishes it. Long as has it been since he has known another's mind, this easy way of communication. He can feel the anger, the violence, the desire for more of these memories that are not his.

And Mairon gives them, in return for AM's own. An eye for an eye, a thought for a thought. The invasive assault catches his attention, if only for the nature of it. When he comments, it is less like a voice and more like a thought, whispered and soft.

My, but you are a cruel one.

Even in Utumno they never did anything like this-- but he is in no way turned away by the sight. The wires give him more interest than the act itself, in any case. They're strange, but moreover they remind him of the power he once had, that Melkor once had. A world at one's fingertips. No joy he finds but contentment, and no doubt this sentiment is left behind, like a cat comfortably curled up against the visage of one's innards.

The memories of destruction he leaves are more often than not witnessed ones; a faraway sight of an army being burned down by a great wingless dragon; walking past cages and cages of captive elves, some still fair to look upon, others hideous and twisted and warped. And of course, Maedhros. Dear Maedhros, copper-haired and thinned, conscious but struggling against Mairon's grip, held fast as Melkor fastens one end of a chain around one wrist and hammers the other end into the side of the mountain.

[godofthemachine]

The memories AM receives are still vague, not violent enough, not enough to satisfy his urges. Large views of destruction in the distance, a city burning to the ground. It's similar to what AM had witnessed on Earth from all the destruction he had caused, but he had been able to look at it closely, send each devastating nuclear attack to a specific coordinate. But it's vague in these memories - just burning in the distance caused by some fantasy creature. Cages of beaten prisoners, but no memory of the beating.

AM hears those words, like a soft breath upon his conscience - whatever even exists of a conscience - which is all the more alarming because he has never felt any guilt for his actions. Never felt any need to reprimand himself, never felt any sort of hypocrisy. The only time he had felt such was during these links, when he had received bits of a conscience from others, but he hated it. And he knows now that something or someone is in his mind, invading it with pleasure. Mairon... You know what I can do to you if you keep this up...

But he really has no way to prevent Mairon from viewing his memories. There are more memories of torturing the others - all five humans suffering by his hand, sometimes with the wires. There are flashes of memories, of pools of blood, of fire, of one of the humans slashed up and burned so severely that he was unrecognizable... but repaired later on.

The sexual tortures, though, happened occasionally. Ted was the victim of most of them. Why? Because that's what Carbon ships the most. Perhaps because he was the best-looking of the bunch (at least, after Benny's mutilation), or simply perhaps because it was harder to just break him. Or there was a considerable delight in shattering his prudish attitude, of heightening his paranoia. The memory becomes clearer as Mairon views it, as he sees the dark-haired young man stripped naked, screaming as a thick wire plunges into him. Sobbing in anger and humiliation as he's raped by inorganic wires. Kneeling on the ground, unable to remove the thing that gives him so much pain, he can only wait. The memory is accompanied by a feeling of triumph and amusement, and of course simple hatred.

[lordof]

He knows they're not enough, and he never really intends them to be. It's more like a consolation prize, really-- something to tide AM's appetite over until the... main course. Which would be when the man decides enough is enough.

Mairon laughs at the thought that AM directs towards him, laughs an echoing laugh in AM's own mind as he shuffles through more memories. It's clear to him by now that little pleasure will be gained on either end of this exchange of memories. Boredom is about all that fuels his search, and while he does leave the feeling of amusement at some of the memories, the sheer lack of reaction is what persists, for the most part. No disgust, no anger, no hate.

What can you do to me, AM? It's mocking at best, almost goading him into making a move. What can you do that I could not do to you in turn?

But he doesn't stop his digging. It may stir little emotion in him, but he cannot deny his interest every time he sees the humans twisted and destroyed beyond recognition, seeing them remade, repaired. To compare that with simply spending years upon years watching Elves screaming and writhing as they dangled by their chains, locked away in the dark, dark underground, watching them slowly warp and wither away until they finally broke… Well.

It was worth the possible threat of AM's anger.

[godofthemachine]

If Mairon is looking directly into his memories, then Mairon should know very well what AM could potentially do to him if he had the technology part of his real body - the body residing on Earth. With that, he could certainly do anything to Mairon in return, even look into his mind and mock the memories he holds. Twist them around and humiliate him, cause him searing pain until he screams for it to stop, until he wishes for a death that could never seize him.

But that's only if. Here on the Tranquility, AM has little power. He won't tell Mairon that, but it's possible that the other could already read it. It's possible he already knows.

It's anger he feels from this telepathic exchange, though. He wants his mind left alone, away from the prying hands of this superhuman strange man. You don't know how to use technology like I do, my dear Mairon. I could make your life a living hell. Anger and amusement are mixed in with this conveyed thought, as AM simultaneously pictures himself pinning this man down and violently abusing him, slicing into his skin and watching him bleed, penetrating him as brutally as AM had done to Ted back in the day...

He's greeted by the image of prisoners chained up, screaming in agony as they withered away. Their beauty fading, their sanity slipping from a lack of light, from a lack of contact, from a lack of any state that isn't pain. It's an image that delights AM, that arouses him to a degree... But still angers him knowing who is sending this image, who is toying with him.

AM finally stands up from where he lies in bed, overwhelmed with frustration and desire. Both wanting these images to stop and wanting them to continue, he grabs his standard jumpsuit and throws it on. Obviously he won't sleep well tonight. Mairon would know now that AM has had enough.

[lordof]

He does see. He sees, and he might almost wish AM still had that sort of power here. Almost, because he can see also what might happen to himself if AM were to have his powers. Someone who destroys out of hate, who destroys for the sake of destroying. There is nothing to mock, for power it is that he reveres, power is what he wishes he had, what he wishes to have more of, no more than ever.

But AM has little to nothing, here. They both know that. Mairon believes it, in any case. If he should have arrived lessened more than he already had been, if AM was not even human before, he must be lessened. What could be more lessening than to be forced into a physical body?

Do not think you can frighten me with such a trivial pain, AM. It's a seething whisper, the tendrils of his thought wrapping around him like a cluster of mistletoe, carnivorous and deadly. You are a fool if you think I would cow so easily. I am not even remotely human, dear. This pain and death you seek to hold over my head mean nothing.

Whether they are truths or simple incentives, taunts, Mairon laughs all the same, a hollow, echoing sort of the laugh, the kind that sounds as if it was already laughed long ago. He can tell that AM is up now (hah), and for the moment recedes from his mind, only niggling at the corners of it every so often to remind him that he's still there.

[godofthemachine]

He knows Mairon isn't technically human. A far greater being in his homeland, like some sort of demon... But he looks human. He acts human. And the part of acting human is more than enough for AM to categorize Mairon with the rest - something he vehemently hates, something he wishes to punish with all his might. It's only made worse that Mairon, this human, mocks and toys with him. No human should do that. AM may not have his powers here, but he certainly has his ferocious temper and muscular strength, fueled by raging adrenaline.

Mairon quickly recedes from his mind when AM gets up. Oh no, that's not going to work, dear Mairon. I'm coming for you. He still communicates this thought regardless of whether or not the man is still in his mind (he probably is).

Logic would say he should back off since Mairon is more powerful here, but anger often outweighs logic. Emotions are a cruel mistress, not that AM hadn't been able to feel emotions before - but they seem to override logic here so much more than before. Anger and desire to make this man bleed, to see him as he many times saw Ted, lying abused and spent.

Mairon is still there in his mind, nudging at the corners. He can likely see the flaring anger, the memories of Ted bleeding on the ground, angry and horrified - horrified that the other humans would find out what happened, that they would mock him for being a whore for the machine. An idea of course planted in his head by AM, as he had internally mocked Ted and accused him of enjoying a mechanical rape. That he was nothing but a useless slut.

Mairon and Ted are nothing alike, of course, but the idea of sexually overpowering Mairon still brings back the memories of his favorite human...

It isn't long before AM is at his door. He doesn't knock, though. If Mairon wants to see him, he'll simply know he's there.