Thread: In Search Of One Man [Defiant x Temptationist]

Ignoring most of what you said about the gift vs. curse, I followed you as you sat at the small kitchen table. I wasn't ready to answer that just yet, so I simply moved on to other subjects. Sinking into the chair, I began to pull my coat off of my shoulders. Do you mind? Although I asked the question, I didn't exactly wait for a response before completely making myself comfortable and removing the coat. I let it fall behind me, so that it draped naturally on the back of the chair. Like a true lady, I crossed my right leg over my left, revealing my feminine mannerism and mostly, my feminine physique. Behind the thick wool of that jacket was a petite frame, hugged by the wonders of a little black dress . The dress too, was rather vintage. Very 40s-esque, although recently that was making a heavy fashion comeback. You were subjected to electric convulsion therapy ECT. I cringed, running my thumbs over the tips of my fingers. I could still feel the sparks of electricity trickling through my veins. Bringing my hand to my head, I rubbed my temples briefly and closed my eyes. I wasn't actually reading anything currently, I was still trying to overcome the sensation, even after break of contact. It's a type of treatment normally used for major depression, but if used in excess and in extreme, it can cause brain damage. Taking a slow breath, my eyes searched to meet yours as you poured another glass. Amidst my vulnerability, the state of weakness in the moment I'm reading, you still just stood there. Surprised, I wondered why you didn't take the opportunity to kill me or at least disarm me enough to allow time to escape and run off again. Yet here I stood. Staring at the blue eyes that carried so much more depth than just the colour of the iris. They were a window to the world a window to the soul. And as I looked at them, I could see you - all of you. Even the emotional parts that most people believe is nonexistent. This wasn't a psychopath - someone without empathy. You were just a man, lost somewhere between two centuries. Briefly looking down, I tried to string together the words for the answer to that question carefully. Quickly coming to a response best suited, I replied. I saw a state of limbo. My demeanour returned to normal as the sensation passed from my mind. Regained a confident posture, I continued. Whatever HYDRA did to you, they did it to ruin you. Ruin your mind. The ECT torture, where combined with hypnotism can turn into brainwashing. It has erased a chunk of your past, though I'm sure I don't need to tell you that. Pausing, I took the glass of orange juice from your hand again and brought it to my red lips. My eyes still fixated on you, I kept a solid stare as I took a gulp. Swallowing the juice, I added afterwards, Because you are missing fragments of your mind, it's difficult for me to see clear memories. What I do see transmits like more of a bombardment of voices, noises, scattered scenes and emotions, feelings, and sensations. I can feel pain just as intensely as when it was experienced. Emotional and physical. I gave a weak and unjustified smile. It's how I know you underwent intense ECT. I could feel in it my skin, in my head. I could even feel your body convulse as your brain reactively begins a seizure in attempt to protect itself from such horrific harm. It really is a curse, but rarely, it is also a gift. I rolled my Rs intricately with my words. Unashamed of the language I was born and the accent I carried, I made no efforts to conceal my cultural identity. It can be used to cause people great agony, including myself. I smirked, but the gesture soon transformed into a smile. But it can also be used to see wonderful memories. For the first time all night, I beamed a radiance I lacked previously. The mind is a beautiful disaster. It latches onto memories that are cemented through meaning and emotion. But what's most remarkable, it not what it stores, but what it chooses to store... What the mind finds meaning in. For some, it's the moment they held their child for the first time in their arms. For others, something as simple as taking in the morning sun. Pausing, I gave a sincere smile. Happiness is objective. It's what makes each individual's mind and memories unique.