Post by Alek Shades on Feb 23, 2020 4:28:07 GMT -5
The chilled winter breeze envelops Alek’s face as he leads Jake Fog further into the farthest winding trails of Forest Park outside Portland, Oregon. Shades seems unperturbed by the rough and frozen terrain, but Jake is visibly and vocally annoyed by his tag partner’s antics.
“Instead of freezing our asses off, we could be inside reviewing our match, picking out what worked for both of us, and planning our strategy against HaVeN,” Fog protests.
Alek, who is quite comfortable wrapped in his hoodie and sweatpants, replies over his shoulder, “I’ve already explained the ineffectuality of your tactics. I believe you have great potential, if only you are able to sync your mind, body and soul. In order to achieve this, you must first become one with that from whence you came: our Holy Mother.”
Alek is referring to nature, and finally comes to a stop at a clearing in the barren pines to sit crosslegged atop a bench. “Whether you lend credence to my methodology or not, I must humbly remind my brother of consciousness, I was able to prove my merit in the ring. I harbor naught twisted hostility against you. My quest is to bring upon you, and the world, true enlightenment.”
Jake takes a seat at the old, moss covered wooden bench. He sighs and inquires mockingly, “Well, Galaxy Brain, what do you propose we do now that you’ve dragged me all the way out here?”
Alek assumes a meditative state, closes his eyes and begins, “In order to destroy you, I must engage you. In order to engage you, I must become you. In order to become you, I must destroy you.”
Fog thinks Alek is talking directly to him. “Excuse the fuck out of me, why are you threatening to destroy me?”
The Painted Spirit answers without breaking his comatose state, “I speak of no one, for this applies to everyone. Within each of us is a part of us which we would rather not confront. Left unchecked, it threatens to overwhelm and overpower us. To assume our consciousness and become us. We are internally shattered in our chaotic state of evolution, broken into archetypes, and if we are not able to assimilate them into one singular being, we allow ourselves to be prismatically disassembled.
“There is an anima-dominated entity who is inhabited by six aspects of her persona. Damaged, apparently beyond repair, but I know better. Pandora, Phoenix, but I repeat myself, you are the culmination of when one allows their archetypes to overtake their own lucidity. You are symbiotic, and your dual chaotic natures feed off one another. You are separate, yet one. You thought this chaos brought you strength, so you welcomed the unpredictable insanity it wrought. Now, burned is the hand that played with fire.”
Fog sits silently, trying to take in the ramblings of who he perceives as a madman. In a bizarre and surprising way, his description of HaVeN might be making a little sense.
“Instead of freezing our asses off, we could be inside reviewing our match, picking out what worked for both of us, and planning our strategy against HaVeN,” Fog protests.
Alek, who is quite comfortable wrapped in his hoodie and sweatpants, replies over his shoulder, “I’ve already explained the ineffectuality of your tactics. I believe you have great potential, if only you are able to sync your mind, body and soul. In order to achieve this, you must first become one with that from whence you came: our Holy Mother.”
Alek is referring to nature, and finally comes to a stop at a clearing in the barren pines to sit crosslegged atop a bench. “Whether you lend credence to my methodology or not, I must humbly remind my brother of consciousness, I was able to prove my merit in the ring. I harbor naught twisted hostility against you. My quest is to bring upon you, and the world, true enlightenment.”
Jake takes a seat at the old, moss covered wooden bench. He sighs and inquires mockingly, “Well, Galaxy Brain, what do you propose we do now that you’ve dragged me all the way out here?”
Alek assumes a meditative state, closes his eyes and begins, “In order to destroy you, I must engage you. In order to engage you, I must become you. In order to become you, I must destroy you.”
Fog thinks Alek is talking directly to him. “Excuse the fuck out of me, why are you threatening to destroy me?”
The Painted Spirit answers without breaking his comatose state, “I speak of no one, for this applies to everyone. Within each of us is a part of us which we would rather not confront. Left unchecked, it threatens to overwhelm and overpower us. To assume our consciousness and become us. We are internally shattered in our chaotic state of evolution, broken into archetypes, and if we are not able to assimilate them into one singular being, we allow ourselves to be prismatically disassembled.
“There is an anima-dominated entity who is inhabited by six aspects of her persona. Damaged, apparently beyond repair, but I know better. Pandora, Phoenix, but I repeat myself, you are the culmination of when one allows their archetypes to overtake their own lucidity. You are symbiotic, and your dual chaotic natures feed off one another. You are separate, yet one. You thought this chaos brought you strength, so you welcomed the unpredictable insanity it wrought. Now, burned is the hand that played with fire.”
Fog sits silently, trying to take in the ramblings of who he perceives as a madman. In a bizarre and surprising way, his description of HaVeN might be making a little sense.
“Madalynn, representative of the Self, the origin who gave way and collapsed beneath the weight of your internal struggle.
Pandora, the Persona, the mask you wear in a feeble attempt at presenting as stable to the collective consciousness.
Amelia, the Ego who refuses to submit and be a piece of your puzzle, always ready to break free and achieve self determination at any time, regardless of the damage this causes to the fragile glass house you construct.
Rain, the balance of Anima/Animus, trying in vain to maintain stability between the conflicting aspects of your psyche through the means of maternal instinct and paternal rage.
Finally, Scarlett, the embodiment of the Shadow within you.
Pandora, the Persona, the mask you wear in a feeble attempt at presenting as stable to the collective consciousness.
Amelia, the Ego who refuses to submit and be a piece of your puzzle, always ready to break free and achieve self determination at any time, regardless of the damage this causes to the fragile glass house you construct.
Rain, the balance of Anima/Animus, trying in vain to maintain stability between the conflicting aspects of your psyche through the means of maternal instinct and paternal rage.
Finally, Scarlett, the embodiment of the Shadow within you.
“Your failure to reckon with your Shadow has led to the dissolution of your singular psyche and left you a splintered fraction of your former Self. The puppet strings you once held with which you orchestrated this chaos have evaporated, dissolved by the acid rain of your mental tempest. Unable to control yourself, you have lost the former glory you attained in this sport, and lost the physical bond between yourself and your true puppetmaster Phoenix. The championships were more than just belts to you.
“They represented
many
united
into
one.”
many
into
one.”