Meetings and Open Office Hours

Deme paused, the gleam in his eye dimming just slightly as he considered Malik’s question. For a moment, he seemed almost grounded, his fingers drumming thoughtfully on the arm of his chair. Fun? he echoed, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Ah, Malik, that’s the trick of it, isn’t it? If we can’t find joy in the madness, if we don’t allow ourselves the smallest of indulgences, then what’s the point? What are we even fighting for?

He rose from his chair with a sudden burst of energy, pacing the room as if the answer were hidden in the very air around them. But make no mistake, he continued, his voice lowering to a more serious tone, fun doesn’t mean carelessness. It’s not about letting go of our duty or responsibility. It’s about savoring the moments between battles—the fleeting pleasures that remind us we’re still alive in this dangerous game we play.

Deme stopped, his eyes locking with Malik’s, a flicker of something sharper in his gaze. Because if all we do is survive, if we fight and toil with no joy, no spark of madness to keep us going… then what separates us from the stone-faced statues that line these halls? He chuckled softly, a hint of melancholy creeping into his otherwise animated tone.

He spun back toward the chessboard, now fully set up and waiting. So yes, Malik. It’s worth playing. As long as we remember that sometimes, even in the darkest of times, we’re allowed to laugh. To dance. To enjoy the game. Because that’s what makes victory taste so much sweeter when it finally comes.

Deme’s eyes lit up at Malik’s question about the chessboard, his expression shifting from playful exuberance to the sharp focus of a strategist on the edge of battle.

Ah, chess! Now you’re speaking my language, Malik! he declared, clapping his hands together as though the mere mention of the game had flipped a switch in his mind. The rapid shifts between his moods were jarring, but Malik should be well-accustomed to Deme’s particular brand of unpredictability. It was as if his mind operated in two distinct gears: one for the serious, calculating leader, and the other for the whimsical visionary who saw life as a grand game.

@Malik Vrai