Post by Loner。 on Feb 15, 2017 20:07:18 GMT
❖ MALIK YOUNG
"So you need a job kid? What's to make me think you aren't going to steal mine?" The cranky grey haired man had asked Malik. He'd seemed a little paranoid. Malik couldn't blame him after what had happened in the city. Even the towns that had not been hit by the attack had been hit economically. The city that had taken most of the attack had been actively involved in many facets of business science and education. "Someone's gonna take the job even if they don't ask for it." Malik had pointed out. "I'm willing to help you, but those other people will go straight to whoever's buying this stuff, besides this can't be good for your back." Malik had grinned then. No insult to the light skinned man's age had been meant, but Malik had noticed some things when he'd caught the man at work, like how he'd ignored scrap too big for him to easily lift, and how, He sometimes seemed pained by the work. Malik had learned a way to do it that would save a lot of pain later if he taught it to the man.
Point taken, Malik now had a job. The broken city might not be a gold mine, but tin, copper, iron and the like were not hard to find. someone was looking for metal and lots of it. The damage had exposed metal parts reenforcing many of the buildings. Malik's job was to help the old man harvest as much of the metal as he could from this place, not from anywhere livable, but all the trash stuff which no one would keep anyway. Anything they found could be sold for a good price. The old man, who called himself Kyle had an open backed truck. The goal was to fill the back of that truck with all the scrap metal they could find per day.
Kyle worked beside Malik today as they helped sort through an old wreck which proved to have plentiful copper piping and other treasures which would score a bit of cash for them. To be honest Malik was doing most of the moving for heavy pieces. It was a chilly day, but the hard work caused both young and old to be sweating when the sun was high enough in the sky to be getting in their eyes.
"Here, take a break." The old man said, throwing a can at Malik, which Malik caught. Unlike the other cans the male had handled today, this one was closed and full of something. Malik looked at the label and frowned, handing the can back. "No thanks." It had ended up being some kind of Liquor. A lot of Malik's peers may have tasted the stuff, but Malik had seen hard times and feel good drugs go hand in hand with bad results before. Some of his peers from the young male's neighborhood had fallen down that path on way less tragic circumstances then the recent events.
"You're loss, its warming. Plus we used to all be into it at your age." Kyle reminisced. Luckily he didn't press Malik on the question. He had a beer for himself, which he'd already opened. Malik murmured to himself, "I'll bring a thermos of tea or something next time." He could afford that. In fact it gave him an idea which he thought might allow him to safely help some of the homeless folks in the area. He should someday go out with as much he could spare to share with them. There were a lot thanks to the Disaster, and maybe Malik could atone for some of his mistakes during that event. He'd been in the area that day and seen the demons attack after all.
Malik took off his work gloves and blew on his hands, and stuck them under his arms to warm them a bit. He wasn't too cold, but the gloves had been more for protection than for any form of warmth.
"you got a family kid?" Malik glanced at Kyle who had asked the question. Kyle was leaning against the truck, watching the broken city skyline. For some reason Malik thought that the man thought it was beautiful, but he didn't know why he came to this impression. He also didn't see how such could be the case, but he wasn't planing to ask.
"An aunt, lives a few towns over." Malik listed to answer the question starting his only known living relative. He didn't like her though. She'd always been abrasive to his mom and himself, whenever she visited or called. She struck like a sudden storm, coming in, suddenly criticizing everything, and leaving once she'd made anyone in the room thoroughly upset. "Mom died four months ago. I never knew my dad." Malik listed calmly. He was still mourning the loss of his mom, but it had not come as a shock. The doctors hadn't been able to find a cure for her illness, only delay the inevitable. She's been an angel in the human sense of the word, generous to others even when she was herself hurting, and never a hateful word on her lips. He couldn't forget the look of joy and hope that had been on her face near her last moments on this earth. She was in a better place, so he was happy for her even while still grieving the loss. The death had pushed Malik towards knowing things now which he hadn't known then, and sometimes wished he still didn't know of, but wishing for more time would only be selfish of him. There was no such thing as resetting the clock.
"Shame." The older man murmured, prompting Malik to quickly add. "At least they weren't here for this. I was, and I was almost killed. My workplace fell on me and somehow I didn't end up crushed. It was terrifying, so I'm glad... they didn't go... through... that. Too many others didn't make it." To be safe, Malik didn't actually say what had happened. Kyle would already know at least one of the stories if he had not been a witness to the events firsthand. A few different stories were circulating about the truth of the event already. Sometimes people would strangely change their minds about which tale they thought was the true one. Malik felt some guilt for some of the deaths that had happened here. There were a few he thought he ought to have been able to prevent. Some had been people he'd known, coworkers, or people from church, or someone he just happened to see every day, who now was gone. The absences were deeply felt even though most had only been acquaintances, never dear friends.
"Why come here and work if it just gives you bad memories?" Kyle asked. A lot of people seemed to just cut out those people places or events they didn't like from their lives. Avoidance seemed the most basic fix for many problems these days.
"Guilt's gonna follow me like a shadow If I'm not here." Malik answered. The young man blamed himself for some of the deaths that had occurred on that day. Work at the scene acted as a sort of atonement. "There were a few times that day where I could have saved someone's life, but failed." He noted. He'd survived, and though he didn't think he should have died in their stead. He was kind of sad that at the time he'd been more focused on his own survival when he could have done more. By acting now maybe he could make things better for some of the living. Here was one thing he could strive to reconcile among many things he couldn't yet will himself to face after all.
"Besides, you're the only person I've managed to get a job from since it happened." Malik commented to push the conversation to a lighter note. Malik had been looking for jobs since the disaster. For some reason or another most prospective employers so far started looking at Malik as though he'd sprouted two heads some time during the interviews. Kyle was one of the few who hadn't give. Malik any odd looks. Instead Kyle had been strangely chill with traits other employers might have noted as a sign that something about Malik wasn't normal. He didn't shrink under Malik's gaze as though it were too intense. Once Kyle had asked about Malik being strong, and lifting things many would have struggled with. Malik had simply replied, "My previous Job had me moving heavy stuff too." and that had been enough. Despite the initial paranoia, at having some kid steal his job, he had yet to look at Malik as though Malik somehow wasn't human. It was something to be thankful for when it was too easy for Malik to see how different he was from others these days.
Malik put his gloves back on and turned from the truck. "Back to work already?" Kyle asked. Malik grunted in confirmation as he strode over to the rubble of a building that was largely left standing. Only part of the structure had fallen in on itself, and Malik began to clear out the rubble, moving heavy brick and concrete away so that the insides of the building might be exposed for searching for sellable metal. Malik twisted loose a wooden beam and heaved it to the side only to reveal...
One of perhaps thousands, a face so far dead that it was beginning to look inhuman in the sickening way. It was the first Malik had come across during this work. It would have not been possible to find if Malik hadn't gone digging through the rubble. Malik took a step back, confronted by the realities that harsh sunlight and cleanup crews who'd come before made it more possible to avoid. Death was ugly. Not only was there the brutal contortion of a face of a person who had died in much pain, but also the ugliness of wounds and the starting signs of decay. Not knowing what the woman who had died crushed by the rubble had believed in terms of religion, it was hard to look without feeling like this was another soul lost to eternal darkness. Malik averted his eyes. Gently he returned the beam to cover the sight. Maybe he shouldn't have gone charging in like that, but the damage was done. It pulled a sensitive nerve, bringing to the fore emotions he'd thought he'd dealt with, and others he'd pushed to the side. He'd even mentioned, but failed to provide descriptive detail about some of the topics in conversation. To think about something painful and to confront an ugly reminder in real life were very different things.
He quietly returned to Kyle's side.
"Whats the matter? you look pale." The older man observed, watching Malik's sudden change of action. Something definitely wasn't right.
Malik avoided eye contact, for he no longer felt stable. "There was a dead woman there. Crushed by the falling beams." He described, his tone failing to fully hide his distress. The shock of running into of the sight of a dead human being reminded Malik of too many things he had seen in his recent past in ways he could no longer just brush aside. Malik could tell already that he was beginning to slip again towards the inhuman, as he sometimes ended up doing in moments of high stress or emotion, or simply when he had kept trying to hide his differences for too long. Subconsciously, he was likely seeking a method of response from the power hidden at his core. There had to be something more he could do, or else even this job was in truth little more than a form of running away. The shortness of breath, and the restless energy flowing to his limbs, almost demanding that he do something with it and not leave it bottled up, were signs. Malik scrambled to reclaim control and lock the unruly energies where he wouldn't be in danger of doing something no human should be capable of. Normally Malik worked hard to hide anything inhuman about him as far under the skin as possible so no one would see that he might be something other. He didn't want others to know of that strangeness. Malik looked frightened. The sight of death could scare anyone but here it was definitely more than that. He felt on the verge of panic, where if he did anything he'd be in trouble and if he did nothing he'd be in trouble simply because he was no longer sure of what he was capable of at any given moment.
Kyle's voice cut through the feeling of being overwhelmed which had dominated Malik's mind. "Go home kid." He commanded. The Three simple shocking words held much power.
"What?" Malik stared at Kyle convinced he was somehow exposed due to the many physical signs that tended to crop up whenever Malik lost control of his abilities, but Kyle wasn't even looking at Malik. Instead the man was closing the back of the truck so the scavenged metal stashed therein would not fall out. Malik had no clue how much if anything Kyle had seen.
"I don't know what demons you're struggling with, but you've clearly got some sticking around." Kyle continued. "A sight like you saw would spark up any hiding in anyone. Go home, or wherever you can fight them. We've already done more today than I'd do on three, so don't feel bad about closing up early. I'll deal with this batch. Call me in a day or two if you've recovered." Kyle didn't necessarily mean real demons at all. The man had said nothing to indicate he believed in them as real creatures. Chances were Kyle meant something harder to see but far closer to humanity. It could be a mindset, a memory, an emotion, a mental disorder, an addiction, whatever tormented humanity could be a demon. Kyle climbed into the truck, and drove off down the damaged street, finalizing his order, and leaving Malik alone.
Malik did nothing to stop him. Kyle had been harsh in his words, but there was a sense that his intent had been kind. Kyle hadn't said anything about Malik being creepy, like some humans Malik had met had done. He also had not said anything like 'just get over it,' as the celestial beings Malik had run into so far had seemed to say. Even if he didn't understand the specifics of whatever was getting to Malik, Kyle seemed to get enough that he hadn't needed to.
The countershock provided by the older man's departure proved helpful in stopping Malik from Spiraling further out of control, but it didn't bring calmness nor pull him fully out of the mental trap he'd created. It still took a while for the young man to take a single step from the spot where he'd rooted himself. He felt like the rampant inhuman energies which had surged under the skin had, rather than dissipating or going back from where they had come, frozen in his limbs making them feel as if burdened by lead. Moving away from the scene proved to be a challenge, but step by step Malik pulled himself in the opposite direction, towards home. Though the sun bear down, it gave no warmth in the winter sky.
As Malik's steps took him towards places less ruined by the demonic invasion, the frozen energies began to thaw. Though less frantic than the wild surge which had come when triggered by the sight of a terrible death, Malik still felt an urgent need to somehow use the energy, or else be unable to be free of it's hold. He still didn't know his limits for when the unholy energy(according to Malik's opinion) flooded him like this. The unknown potential had always scared him. If he walked into someplace people still lived while harboring it, all it would take was one accident to destroy any chance of the normal life he was striving to keep. Even when feeling relatively normal, he'd had a few close calls where he'd accidentally did something humans shouldn't be able to. He'd even had people try and kill him, and even if there reasons were not always powers, it had lead to some really close calls. That line of thought was enough to spark terror again, for he had no desire to welcome more trouble.
Malik grabbed a fence to steady himself, but the metal felt wimpy in his grip. Even the supporting poles felt more like they had the give of reenforced cardboard than the firmness of metal right now. He'd automatically grabbed one, and he saw when he looked that he'd somehow squished the hollow pole in on itself. His breathing ragged, he stared at the damage. He felt physically or spiritually fragile right now, or both, but the world seemed weaker still, unnaturally mailable. This was the first time Malik had run into such an extreme contrast between how he thought things should be, and his relationship to them as something not quite human. Maybe it was because the energy was more stuck in his limbs than being radiated as usual. More likely it was because he hadn't touched much before while in an unstable state so hadn't known what would happen. He didn't know. He didn't need to know, not at this moment at least. He just needed to get away from here and somewhere safe.
Malik could not return to repaired civilization now. It took incredible force of will to turn and plow in another direction, looking for a place he could be truly alone. He rarely could be sure that he wasn't being observed. Even in his own house he couldn't be sure that someone had not gotten in while he had been away one day and bugged it (but maybe that was just paranoia) Malik didn't run, but he kept up a brisk pace, often choosing to take side streets and alleys where rubble had not yet been cleared. He was careful not to go too close to the locus of the other day's demonic attacks. That place was still closed off to the public and swarming with activity of people unknown, but which must have some kind of authority sanctioned effort. He'd met few people while working alongside Kyle today. Some of the homeless had already set up camps in the more stable buildings he'd heard. Malik wanted to go where no one would even think to try and live right now, somewhere he wouldn't risk running into anyone he might be capable of hurting.
Rather than find a place, Malik stumbled on one. It might not be suitable, for Malik wasn't really thinking right when he entered the abandoned building, where he finally stopped moving. Whether because he sensed he was away from any chance eyes, or because he'd reached a limit where human flesh could not contain celestial energy, it seized him like a puppet, taking shape and form without his conscious will to dictate its appearance and use. Resisting didn't help, only serving to make the expanding energy more painful than it needed to be as it flowed beyond the physical confines. Most of the energy simply kept light form, brightening the surroundings, but failing to dissipate, clinging to Malik like an angry swarm of bees because he was still fighting it's flow. That human emotion, and fear and memory and the sight of a dead woman had sparked this had been temporarily forgotten. The only antagonist came from within, being this energy and the strange spot in his core from which it seemed to come.
Malik coughed up blood. He was hurting himself by fighting this battle, pinned in an uncomfortable rigid half standing posture. Most of the energy, he was treating as a foreign thing, but really it was no less part of him than heart or lungs might be. It might even be more vital than that. He didn't know. There were some battles against the body one couldn't truly win. On many occasions in the past, Malik thought he'd won, forcing the energy where it could not touch his world. However those times the odds had been vastly different, the energy summoned by a different set of emotions, far more shapable by his will.
Human will faltered. It was hard to place the exact moment where Malik gave up, the fight, but he unavoidably did. The energy flowed freely then, some dissipating, some pushing his appearance towards the inhuman as it always did when overflowed from Malik's control or drawn from in some kind of use, some of it radiated outward, creating lightly woven structures which only vaguely resembled wings. Malik's sense of self had been temporarily shattered, the process of thinking and feeling replaced with simply being as the energies he'd been fighting gained control, flooding his mind in a way he had not experienced before.
"I'm not dead." was the first thought Malik could put into words, as the sensations he was used to such as heart beat and breathing returned to a more normal pace. He no longer felt overwhelmed, yet not everything was right. Malik had a moment of confusion, wondering 'how did I get here?' Looking around revealed some answers. His senses were not quite right, seeing visual input from places his eyes shouldn't be able to see such as behind him, feeling things like the presence of the buildings walls, as though he were touching them, and knowing exactly how far from any wall he happened to be. He was seeing the building for the first time as well, It was mostly just a shell. There was a stair up to a second floor but the floor had fallen down except for a few scraps clinging to the walls. The second floor lay in pieces over the first, so that the rubble on which he stood belonged to the second floor rather than the first. Somehow the exterior had not fallen in. It had clearly been abandoned and broken before the demonic attack on the city, and somehow it had not fallen then. The shell was blackened by fire, and though there was signs of electric wiring, it was clear that nothing was in working condition.
He quickly discovered that he wasn't alone. A crow watched from the rafters. At least it seemed like a normal bird as far as Malik could tell. A bird couldn't tell secrets right? He could only hope.
Glancing down at himself confirmed the worst news. The signs of being inhuman were rampant and clear. He was warmly dressed, but the clothing hid nothing as his energy through them had even transformed grungy work wear to take on qualities of hues not normally seen by human eyes. What exposed skin there was shone brilliantly. Malik was sure no aspect of his features was immune. He'd seen lower grades of his inhuman look before. Skin, eyes and hair all would take on unnatural qualities of hue, and glow, and he tended to look bigger than he ought without gaining measurable height or width. It didn't come as a shock, for he sort of had known what to expect before he had looked at himself, just not the extent. A disturbed expression crossed his face. He probably looked terrifying. Turning, he caught a glimpse of hard to focus on, light projections around him. Malik reached his hand out, and felt the same kind of sensation one gets when placing two hands together. He was aware of what he was touching, and equally aware that he could feel his own hand from input coming from this light based thing. "Oh Shit, its part of me?" He questioned and confirmed, feeling some sense of dread as he realized that hide what he might, this energy was something he couldn't just be free of. He'd been entertaining that hope for a while, that one day he could simply expel all trace of being something else, and live the rest of his life human. his experience so far had been one where sometimes his energies peaked, but if he used his energy then afterwards he'd feel more human. He'd kind of hoped that if he found a point where he could be rid of it all at once, that it wouldn't come back. Guess not.
If Malik ever found a place where he could belong without having to fear for his life, he might have been able to quit demonizing himself. If he could walk among others without weird looks, and know he would not risk harming anyone, he might be alright, but this world didn't work like that. Even if he wanted to explore his potential and see what he could do, that would not be wise even when alone. He didn't even know where to start on such a task. An emergency measure such as this place was not good. He didn't even know how to summon up these changes at will, though he'd unwittingly done so on a few past occasions.
Left at a loss, Malik asked a question he'd asked once before, "Ok, but how to I turn back?" Whether he accepted what he happened to be, or whether he fell once more into a self loathing cycle, being able to return to society was something Malik knew was important. He had nowhere else to go. He couldn't even trust most supernatural beings which he had met, so even if he knew of someone, he could not ask for help.
He reached for his current method of keeping the power in check, focusing on suppressing all this light energy under the skin once more. As soon as he tried he was met with resistance. The harder he tried the more resistance there was, and with it returned sense of the writhing unstable state he'd just come from. Doing so brought his unstable emotions back more strongly as well. Left panting, Malik quit trying. Even if that was a method he could use to make himself normal, it wouldn't help him out in the long run. He needed a different option.
Malik sat down on some of the rubble which was arranged in such a way that it made a rough chair, and thought. What had his one supernatural friend said about this? It had been the first time ever he'd ended up showing inhuman ability, the very day his Mother had died. He and that friend had gone to...a hell from Malik's religious point of view but it was more of a neutral place where the dead were sometimes brought. The fact that Malik was neither dead nor a creature that belonged in the world had triggered the very atmosphere to treat him like a foreign object. He remembered feeling as if on fire, drawing on mysterious inner power to try and create a resistance to the place's hostility. His friend had pulled him out before he'd managed to reach a balance, but even from the lens of the normal world, he'd changed to a state similar, but lesser to the one he'd reached now. Yet it had felt more overwhelming then, probably because after a few months, what should be normal and what is normal begins to blur.
The question he'd asked then was the same as he was trying to answer now. He wanted to know how to turn back. In the end he'd managed to figure out that he could suppress the power, but his friend being inhuman in a different fashion, and also able to change her appearance, had provided a different answer. "You just like think about it, and it works."
Well Malik was trying that. He even tried focusing on the details, the exact color his skin ought to be, the exact sensory perceptions, which he didn't always realize where already not like a human's should be even at times when his appearance was right. Naturally it didn't work. His appearance had changed due to being whatever he was, but to think about changing was akin to thinking about riding a bike. Even if the skill was there, a different kind of thought was needed for thinking about the action needed and doing the action needed to make it work.
Even thinking about the angels he'd met one day recently didn't provide a clue. They had changed forma before his eyes, and one had even told him that she was concealing her presence, a thing Malik had failed to notice till it was pointed out. Even that was no help for even though Malik knew those things were possible he didn't know how.
Stuck on this puzzle, Malik barely noticed in time, even with his expanded senses that multiple somebodies were approaching the place he'd found to hide.
Fear made an excellent motivator. Malik knew he didn't have time to question or test any longer. He had no place to hide, for the building was too exposed on the inside, while the walls seemed only good for cutting off escape.
Malik really didn't understand what he did differently. Somehow he got the brightness of his features to dim far more easily than when he had been heavily concentrated on trying, a thing he would realize later. Not wanting to be seen, he also moved to press himself against a wall near the door. People were known to overlook such a spot when entering a building. Maybe he could get out.
It failed to be a sufficient fix by the time two males entered the building, They'd already spotted movement.
"You really want to use this run down," a slightly chubby middle aged man was saying, before stopping mid sentence, "Did you see that?"
"Yeah dude." A voice Malik actually recognized as a peer from his neighborhood, known since childhood rang out. "Right over... here."
Dio, wearing his left arm in a cast and sling from a recent dangerous adventure which he'd dragged Malik into, came face to face with the hiding male. Deo took a step back as if struck. He had not expected Malik to be here. Even if he did expect to find someone, Malik was not one he'd wanted to see. It would have been better to run into a stranger.
The sling was a lie. Malik knew Dio was faking the damage for it had been healed soon after the event which broke the arm had occurred. That had been recently. Dio had found Malik and tried to rope him into a shady job by panning it off as honest work. One might think that Dio might try and come clean from crime after being nearly killed by an employer who had seen both males as expendable. The skinny, dark skinned male was clearly up to no good once more.
"I thought you said we'd be alone." The middle aged man pointed out.
"Thought so too," Dio agreed, using his right hand to produce a pocket knife which he easily flipped open. The act would have threatened almost anyone else. Malik still felt an automatic reaction to the threat of being cut, yet he knew he'd likely be impossible to cut with the thing or if he was harmed, he'd heal from the damage quickly. He hardened his gaze and stared at Dio, who returned it with a mask of hatred. Why such a face after the initial shock of recognition? Malik had his guesses. Dio probably only treated Malik like a friend last time because it had suited him. Malik could remember Dio's expression when they'd parted ways after having fought for their lives side by side. There had been fear there.
It was Dio's companion who faltered first. "Hey, i don't think you should do that." He urged Dio. "Just look at that guy. He's out of our league." Making eye contact with him, Malik saw from the look on the man's face that whatever hiding he was doing wasn't working completely if it was working at all. The wide eyed expression was one Malik had seen even on himself when he caught a glimpse of the changes to his appearance, without understanding what it might mean at that time. Fear of the unknown was surely the big issue here. Dio was currently the only one who wasn't acting afraid.
"Sure I shouldn't" he argued with his companion, "but we need to be alone right?" Dio stabbed the wall, beside Malik's ear, coming in close. "The other day, I did some checking. Put some pieces together about what you did. There's some people out there who would be very interested in you." Dio flicked the knife towards the door. "So you better forget we came here, get out of here, and hope I don't change my mind."
Malik didn't know how much Dio had figured out about him, but he recognized the attempt at blackmail. Even if he could fight and win, Malik wanted nothing to do with that. He knew no way to make Dio forget whatever he knew other than killing, and had no way to check that it wasn't some bluff. If there was a better way to handle it which Malik had known, he would have taken it. Instead he complied, leaving the building, and escaping for the moment.
The bright winter sun got in Malik's eyes once he was outside. Annoying as it was, it might be a good thing. It might help to hide the inhuman look which as far as Malik knew, was still lingering on all his features. He wondered if it was possible to go home before the sun set and he possibly stood out more than he had. He might be able to arrive safe, if he was careful, and he didn't end up making some sort of scene along the way. At this point Malik was mentally worn out enough that he definitely didn't want any more drama today. Retreat was the only option he had. He only dreaded that his inability to act back there would bring more trouble in the future.
For that case, Malik made a decision. Knowing Dio, it was unavoidable that Dio would dangle this the information he might know about Malik over his head as a form of manipulation in getting Malik to do what he wanted. It might not be long before he told someone something, and got Malik into trouble. The only way to fight it was to stop fighting against himself and get some real answers. If he looked back on his experiences, he might be able to find a point to begin searching for information. Even if he didn't trust them, he'd need o try and ask should he meet someone, anyone who was also not human. To continue leaving himself in the dark, would be detrimental, serving to invite another experience like his loss of control today, or worse. He could only hope that he had enough time.
