change your name and keep your face
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Jun 23, 2016 18:44:52 GMT
Post by nemesis on Jun 23, 2016 18:44:52 GMT
something something nobody believed cassandra when she told them they were all screwed, right?
he feels a little like that chick must’ve felt. all he sees is flashes, all he feels is the faintest ghosts of what it must be like for her, but he has to maintain the small smile like nothing is happening, like he hasn’t just learned that something is deeply wrong, and that’s where he’s out.
severing the connection is a relief, a drain of tension he hadn’t noticed, the release of a breath caught in his chest. “i didn’t say it was. entirely my fault.” most of everything is max’s fault, he knows, his dumb habit of charging into things without thinking and dealing with the regret later. leaving loose threads trailing that snag on the scenery of the present and hold him back.
the answer to her question is easy, even if it’s a little existential, even if it’s supposed to pierce to the heart of him. he knows it like the back of his hand, because he’s long since known himself enough to admit it to himself. “human nature, ms veles. aren’t you?”
physis
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Jun 24, 2016 13:46:14 GMT
Post by physis on Jun 24, 2016 13:46:14 GMT
 Sophia raises a glass of sparking juice to her lips and stains them with a deep shade of violet.
"Yes." That's why she has Zahir to protect her from the mundane while she shields him from the divine. "I've always imagined business school to be a lot like living in a tiger pit."
Some of the employees who are still listening to this conversation laugh. Stories are swapped about their own experiences in business school. Sophia fades into the background the way that she prefers it. After all, she has no such undergraduate stories to share.
nemesis
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change your name and keep your face
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Jun 26, 2016 13:00:21 GMT
Post by nemesis on Jun 26, 2016 13:00:21 GMT
the fact that she is actually agreeing with him genuinely surprises him. time to almost immediately fuck that up again, probably.
“well, that’s where all the psychopaths are supposed to be, right?”
psychopaths don’t scare max because he’s used to seeing people from the inside, the way they see themselves, and those without empathy or morality don’t lie to themselves. they’re honest, and everything is laid open entirely in their own minds. they know they’re fucked up.
he meets her eyes steadily. lets the corporates start talking about whatever shit they’re always going on about.
“for me it’s more, uh -” his phone vibrates in his inside pocket, once, twice. he leaves it where it is. “people stabbing you in the back for their own gain, that’s fine. i get it. i’ve done it. it’s when people stab you in the back out of some misguided idea of what’s best for you, that’s what worries me. the people who want to look out for you are the most dangerous ones. cynical, i know.”
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Post by physis on Jun 27, 2016 1:20:37 GMT
Finally, some statements. Sophia thought that Max was going to hide behind his faux-hypotheticals forever.
She's always been a believer: if you have to lie, do it boldly. Unflinchingly. Never half-ass a sin.
"Maybe it's best to avoid bringing up your backstabbing ways among your coworkers." Though most of his said coworkers seem too hammered to care. "Why do you care about them? You have a good job at a reputable company. Even if someone sabotaged you tomorrow, you would still survive." Then she smiles disarmingly. Hopefully not too little, too late. "Don't worry, I'm not Human Resources."
This Max, he's just a series of reactions. A tablet of all the humors that he's made of. He's been pulled apart, reconstructed, and he goes on thinking that he wasn't something else once.
(Him? Or her?)
nemesis |
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change your name and keep your face
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Jun 27, 2016 15:31:55 GMT
Post by nemesis on Jun 27, 2016 15:31:55 GMT
he could make a joke out of it, but he’s getting tired of it, the figurative circling for weakness. instead he just shrugs, eyes cutting to the others, a clear silent dismissal of their ability to give the slightest shit about anything he says at this point.
it’s a good question, though. why does he? obviously the actual answer is that a good reputation is max’s primary defence against being found out, someone connecting the dots between the dozens of accounts under ezra fleischer’s name and himself, but he’s not exactly going to start going ‘well, ms veles, you may have heard of me, nemesis’. instead he just picks up the thread of the next most true answer. “if they sabotaged me properly, i probably wouldn’t. i don’t have that much of a life outside work, sad as that is.”
‘you would still survive’, though. is that true? what would that even be like? what about his sisters, what would-
his phone buzzes again and he murmurs the apology as he pulls it out of his jacket pocket. “one of my neighbours, sorry,” he explains, even though she absolutely will not care. “probably another burst pipe or-”
- did you see nina when you went out?
- we can’t find her, i think something might have happened.
he clamps down on the outward physical reaction, just makes a show of frowning. “leak from upstairs, yeah. looks like i’ll have to skip out.” his mind is already racing - at this time of night a cab is fastest, so he can be back in -
“it was nice to be able to talk to you, ms veles. you’re a sharp lady.” he’s on his feet, already starting to scroll for the taxi company’s number. “it’d be nice to speak to you again, sometime, if you’re not already totally bored with me.”
(complete...?)
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