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X-treme Wrestling Federation » Warfare Boards » Warfare RP Board
The Meeting of the Mind -- Part One: Benedict the Ego
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Mystica Offline
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#1
08-18-2013, 10:25 PM

The tea kettle whistled like a wolf in the night. Hurriedly, David fetched it and poured the boiling hot water into his cup, relishing the warm smell of the Earl Gray Alexandra Callaway had fetched for him. It was a different sort of blend than he was used to. It was a "White Winter" Earl Gray. He had only tasted it once before in his life, when a girl he fancied in secondary school had given the particular blend to him as a Christmas present. Briefly recalling the day, David closed his eyes and breathed in the aroma, trying desperately to block out his surroundings, which were too odd for him to really comprehend.

The shack was abound with silent energy as David concentrated. Around him, his two doppelgangers sat with crossed arms, waiting for David to make the first move. It was almost like his ritualistic duty to ask the catchphrase question. They were waiting...

Back in his mind, David could picture the girl. Curled light brown hair, glowing deep brown eyes surrounded by a pale complexion. A monitor screen tan. Her hands momentarily touching his as she hands him the box of White Winter Earl Gray. Locking eyes, looking away. Strange words flowing. Conversation; stilted by nature, his inner workings a demon of his past life. Natural connection. Chemistry. A subject he'd never been very good at aside from basic forensics. But there's no science to personal chemistry. Social science -- a reality, but impractical in this moment. He stutters. He cannot form words. Struggling, the memory begins to black out. Darkness remains.

"What's the plan, then?" David asked, coming out of his momentary illusion and switching glances between the other two.

"The plan is, who or what is this one?" declared Mystica, pointing to the third incarnation of David Martin. The slick-haired, gray-clad version chuckled a bit, leaning back in the desk chair and wrapping his arms behind his head.

"I am the balance," he declared, his voice sounding a bit higher and more conniving than David's normal tone. "The middle ground to your two extremes."

"Extremes?" asked David, finally sipping the Winter White.

"Yeah, extremes," said the gray one. "You're an idealist. Full of love and good intentions."

He turned to Mystica.

"And you're the extremist. Fueled by desire and fulfillment."

"Then what does that make us?" asked David with a raised eyebrow.

"Divisions," explained the gray one. "The simple division of our collective mind into the Freudian extremes of the consciousness."

He pointed to David.

"Superego."

Then to Mystica.

"Id."

Finally, to himself.

"Ego."

"By ego..." David began, pausing to take a sip of his tea. "Do you mean you're the I? As in, you're David Martin?"

"Not at all!" the gray version responded enthusiastically. It was clear he was quite amused by these late-night proceedings. "I have my own identity. Yours. Ours. But my own version. The side of David Martin that must balance the others."

"You have a name, or just an annoying voice?" snickered Mystica, his eyes narrowing to slits.

"Benedict," the gray one replied with a smirk.

"Grand," David sighed, sipping again. "Three versions of one man. Makes sense. To the mad."

"Aren't we just?" Benedict shot back with a smile, amused. "Madman! Mad...men!"

"Jesus, you have too much energy for this late at night," Mystica growled, massaging the muscles in his legs. The night's ladder match had taken just about everything out of him.

"It's natural," Benedict chortled, looking to David. "So what's the plan?"

"The plan is..." David began, but stuttered. He honestly had no idea of what to do at this point. Madness had utterly overwhelmed him, and he had nothing. Three versions of himself, all sitting in a circle, battling over nothing; talking about nothing at all. With Benedict claiming they were divisions of the Freudian mindset, could the real David really believe him? Could any of them really be taken seriously? It was a scene out of a farcical comedy, perhaps a tragedy. With heads pounding, the three slowly became paranoid of one another.

Where do you go from here?

[Image: b7zaJm8.jpg]

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