trans_9 | Crack your skull open [Closed]

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Crack your skull open [Closed]

Picking a place to do evaluations wasn't easy, but after some searching, he eventually found a nice spot. It was... some alien building in the city. He didn't know much about the culture, but he had to marvel at the architecture. Not only was it aesthetically pleasing, the furniture was comfortable, and the walls were virtually soundproof. It helped to provide a nice relaxing and secure atmosphere he needed to get people talking.

And speaking of, he sat back, waiting for his first few appointments of the day to arrive.

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"So first it's about needing other people's 'help', then it's about me being too selfish to help other people, and now it's about 'common decency and respect'? Are you going to make your mind up anytime soon, or are you just going to keep rattling off whatever complaints come into your head?"

But Samson thinking he was a jerkass was better then him continuing to poke into the war. If he was just a jerk, then he could be dismissed, and no one would need to start looking more deeply at Marco. Ironically enough, if you go deeper Marco was actually a decent guy - but you had to get past the surface first.

And no one ever pities the guy who makes all the sarcastic and cutting remarks either. Marco prefers it that way.

"It's about all of those things. The root of your attitude, your refusal to address it, and the impact that has on others. Its all related." He didn't raise his voice, or let any kind of anger seep into his tone, largely because he wasn't angry.

Sure, Marco had an attitude, but when your clients range from Spider-Man to Magneto to the Hulk, you'd need far more than simply an attitude to get under his skin.

"Its about your fear, your continuing to run away from it, and how you're busy thinking of yourself to worry about what that might do to others. Whether they can help you, or you can help them. You've been too terrified to even answer even the simplest of questions; I imagine I could ask you what your favorite color is, and you'd hedge around it because, what? If I find that out, it's just one more thing that can be taken advantage of and used against you and your friends?"

Marco narrowed his eyes. "Red," he said, challenging.

"Interesting." He took a few seconds to write down several notes. "Though I didn't ask you what favorite color was. I asked you were you afraid that even something that small could be used against you. If you're afraid that if you trust the wrong person with anything at all, it'll come back to bite you in the ass.

"Are you?"

What, that? made him write something down? Marco eyed that notebook suspiciously.

Maybe he should try and sneak back in later and find out what Samson wrote. Unless he wasn't really writing anything - it could just be there as a trick, to try and psych Marco out.

"Hey, I trust people all the time. They want to know what video games I play? Sure. The comics I read? Awesome. But the big things? No way. I don't know what bizarro-world you live in," - well, technically he did, but that was besides the point - "but as far as I'm concerned? That's stuff's on a need to know basis, and everyone and their mother doesn't need to know. Because yeah, with the wrong info in the wrong hands? You can do a hell of a lot of damage."

Marco should know. He'd done a lot of damage himself.

"And how would you, personally, know that?"

"See, now that's getting into the 'big stuff' territory, which means there's no way in hell I'm going to tell you," Marco said.

"Well, I'll briefly tell you what I think.

"There's an old saying: 'An assassin always believes that someone else has a contract out on them, a thief always goes over the top to secure their belongings, and the person who keeps every secret as close to them as possible? A spy. Particularly one who's been burned.' It's not so much that they have a deep seated belief in karma, its more of a mantra to do unto others as someone once did to them, only do it first, be far better at it, and make sure no one will ever do it to you again.

"Your tactic of smart remarks and deflection is strictly amateur hour, so my guess is that you never received much in the way of formal counterintelligence training, if any. You were likely some child who fell ass backwards into a situation that was way over your head, possibly involving some kind of secret fascist government takeover or alien invasion conspiracy." And only a psychiatrist from the Marvel Universe could consider those viable options. "You may or may not have gotten powers, though my guess is that you have. And somewhere along the way, someone took something you treasured, and used it to hurt you in ways you never thought imaginable, and haven't even begun to recover from. So you decided that the only way to make sure you could never be hurt like that again is not only to protect your secrets, but to know everyone else's as well, and to make sure that they never know that you know. For you, there is no such thing as the benefit of the doubt; everyone is 'untrustworthy,' until you're absolutely sure that they won't hurt you, and only way to know that is to know everything about them. You'll get that information by hook or by crook, because you believe it to be preemptive self-defense on your part. If you're protecting yourself, then its okay to violate someone the way someone once did to you. And if you do it right, they'll never know about anyway. No harm, no foul. Though, somewhere in there, you do feel guilty about that. That's likely why you like the shallow, carefree personality. It keeps people from finding out how much of an asshole you really are. The ones you trust already know.

"Shall I go on, or would you like to make some vain attempt at deflecting the subject and possibly bolt for the door?"

For once, Marco didn't even have anything to say. All could do was stare dumbly at Samson, his fingers a deathgrip on his knees.

He decided to take that as his being right on point.

"Well, now that we seem to have an outline of your personality, you're going to have to start filling in some specifics. But we can save that for the next session."

"Next session?" Marco said hoarsely, coming out of his shock. "What next session?! This was a one time deal. No one said anything about fucking sessions."

"For most, perhaps. For you, specifically, your evaluation is going to take a bit more work. We'll schedule your next one soon. Until then, you're free to go."

So, you can either stay and argue, or make for the exit, Marco. What's it going to be?

"What, haven't you 'figured me out' enough already?!" Marco said sarcastically. "Like hell I'm coming back here. I've done my eval."

"In that case, you failed it, spectacularly," he pointed out. "In which case, I'll have to talk to the Council, and tell them why you failed, in great detail, and why everyone should keep a very close eye on you at all times. As is my civic duty."

Try him, Marco.

"However, so long as these sessions continue, all the anyone else needs to know about them is that they're 'ongoing,' everything else remains confidential."

For a moment, Marco said nothing.

Fuck. Fuck. He didn't need this. They didn't need this - if the Council started keeping tabs on him, he wouldn't be the only one to end up under scrutiny. They'd find out about his mother, and the other Animorphs. Find one and you find them all.

"Fine," he hissed through clenched teeth.

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