Salem had halfway extended his hand between them, palm up, to take the gun back. He left it there, staring at a point on Shu's forehead as he considered the question.
"I dunno," he said after a moment, uncharacteristically truthful. "Not much of an animal person. I guess I'd say cats. They don't really need us, you know."
And something about the cat in the box, Schrodinger's cat. About not knowing if it was alive or dead, about how when you went to answer the question, you forced it to be one or the other.
Something about how, if you decided to get all navel-gazing about multiverse or parallel universes or whatever, you could say that there was some iteration of the universe where he and Shu really did go on passing the gun back and forth forever, click click click with no change and no payoff. Always safe, but neither dead nor alive.
"If I was going to get a pet I'd probably get a cat. You know the statue of that chick from Bewitched that's downtown? The black cat that she had on that show was named Salem. Kinda morbid if you think about it."
Trigger Happy Havoc
day... 9(?) this is a private party regardless, sorry y'all
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
"Like Sabrina the Teenage Witch, too. Always hated that animatronic."
Shu wiped the remnants of tears from his eyes with a sweep of the back of his hand. He cradled his arms together as he watched and waited for Salem to roll the die.
Shu wiped the remnants of tears from his eyes with a sweep of the back of his hand. He cradled his arms together as he watched and waited for Salem to roll the die.
"...Oh, yeah. I guess it was Sabrina and not Bewitched." Salem took the revolver back from Shu.
"...I hate sitcoms." The side of his mouth twitched up briefly; the ghost of half of a smile. "Like, if I wanted to watch fake people bumble around and do stupid things, I'd just go spend more time with my friends, right?"
Shu didn't smile or laugh. Salem hadn't expected him to. It wasn't even really a joke, just words said to fill a space.
All that mattered, all that really needed to pass between them, sat in his hands.
Salem lifted the gun to his temple once again, but he waited for Shu to look back at him before pulling the trigger.
Click.
"...I hate sitcoms." The side of his mouth twitched up briefly; the ghost of half of a smile. "Like, if I wanted to watch fake people bumble around and do stupid things, I'd just go spend more time with my friends, right?"
Shu didn't smile or laugh. Salem hadn't expected him to. It wasn't even really a joke, just words said to fill a space.
All that mattered, all that really needed to pass between them, sat in his hands.
Salem lifted the gun to his temple once again, but he waited for Shu to look back at him before pulling the trigger.
Click.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
"Guess so. Never really had friends, not for a long while."
The gun passed into Shu's hands again. But he just stared down at it, at least for a little while.
"..."
He stared a little longer before breaking the silence.
"Trust's hard to come by these days. It's why I wish I were a wolf or something, pack animals always cooperate and trust each other with no strings attached. You know the whole 'alpha dog' thing is a load of garbage? It only happens in captivity, and even then that contestation only goes down because they're confused and lost because someone snatched them away from their homes."
His grip tightened around the handle of the revolver.
"I don't know what I'm doing."
The gun passed into Shu's hands again. But he just stared down at it, at least for a little while.
"..."
He stared a little longer before breaking the silence.
"Trust's hard to come by these days. It's why I wish I were a wolf or something, pack animals always cooperate and trust each other with no strings attached. You know the whole 'alpha dog' thing is a load of garbage? It only happens in captivity, and even then that contestation only goes down because they're confused and lost because someone snatched them away from their homes."
His grip tightened around the handle of the revolver.
"I don't know what I'm doing."
"Do any of us know?" Salem asked. The lightness in his voice sounded forced, but the way his heart was still pounding was real. It was a kind of high, the tension.
When he'd come face to face with Katelyn, he'd been himself as seen through a dozen filters, just like every other day of his life. The days since then had stripped away layer after layer of armor, artifice, and caution. What was underneath?
Shu had looked in the mirror long and hard enough to decide that he didn't like what he saw once all the masks were off, Salem guessed. That was the conclusion he was going to go with.
He reached up and cupped Shu's face with both hands; he had to adjust and sit up on his knees to put them at eye level with one another. He'd asked Kitty if she wanted whatever stock comfort he could afford her. He didn't ask Shu. He was already giving Shu what Shu wanted.
"I don't know if I can do this," he said, "whatever it is. But I'm making myself do it anyway. What about you?"
When he'd come face to face with Katelyn, he'd been himself as seen through a dozen filters, just like every other day of his life. The days since then had stripped away layer after layer of armor, artifice, and caution. What was underneath?
Shu had looked in the mirror long and hard enough to decide that he didn't like what he saw once all the masks were off, Salem guessed. That was the conclusion he was going to go with.
He reached up and cupped Shu's face with both hands; he had to adjust and sit up on his knees to put them at eye level with one another. He'd asked Kitty if she wanted whatever stock comfort he could afford her. He didn't ask Shu. He was already giving Shu what Shu wanted.
"I don't know if I can do this," he said, "whatever it is. But I'm making myself do it anyway. What about you?"
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
The ice holding Shu's face shattered into a million little pieces with Salem's touch. He shook off the embrace and squinted and flashed his teeth like he were an animal in pain that chewed his leg out of a beartrap.
He dug the barrel of the pistol into his skull and pulled the trigger.
He dug the barrel of the pistol into his skull and pulled the trigger.
The crack of the gun was muffled by Shu's skull, but only a little.
In the dimness of the room, there was a startling spray of vibrant color.
"Holy shit!" Salem gasped, the way you'd gasp while watching a horror movie - shocked, euphoric. His hands had still been hovering somewhere between himself and Shu, and he froze like that, spine going ramrod straight for a moment. Mirroring the way that Shu froze too for just a split second, still sitting perfectly upright with a hole gaping in the side of his head before he pitched backwards onto the mattress.
Salem scrambled up and off the bed, staggered across the room to lean against the opposite wall. His heart was pounding so hard he thought he might be sick. His knees were shaking. Ash would have looked at this and called him the dumbest motherfucker in the world, and he would have asked her to clarify whether she meant him or Shu.
He glanced back and grimaced at the footprint that he'd tracked through the splash of blood and brain matter on the floor next to the bed.
"You did it," he said to the body sprawled on the mattress. "You did it."
He sagged against the wall for a few minutes to catch his breath. The shaking mostly subsided by then, though he still felt a little weak and dizzy when he straightened up and hobbled back over to the bed. The revolver had fallen next to Shu, and Salem's hand hovered over it for a moment before he switched tracks and simply gathered up the remaining bullets that had sat between them. He scooped them into his palm and deposited them back into his coat pocket, and after a moment of consideration, grabbed Shu's bag to root through. Remaining food, water, and medical supplies went into his own bag, along with the spool of barbed wire and cutters. He left the shotgun untouched.
Shu could keep the revolver, too. He'd earned it.
((Salem Fox continued in Permian))
In the dimness of the room, there was a startling spray of vibrant color.
"Holy shit!" Salem gasped, the way you'd gasp while watching a horror movie - shocked, euphoric. His hands had still been hovering somewhere between himself and Shu, and he froze like that, spine going ramrod straight for a moment. Mirroring the way that Shu froze too for just a split second, still sitting perfectly upright with a hole gaping in the side of his head before he pitched backwards onto the mattress.
Salem scrambled up and off the bed, staggered across the room to lean against the opposite wall. His heart was pounding so hard he thought he might be sick. His knees were shaking. Ash would have looked at this and called him the dumbest motherfucker in the world, and he would have asked her to clarify whether she meant him or Shu.
He glanced back and grimaced at the footprint that he'd tracked through the splash of blood and brain matter on the floor next to the bed.
"You did it," he said to the body sprawled on the mattress. "You did it."
He sagged against the wall for a few minutes to catch his breath. The shaking mostly subsided by then, though he still felt a little weak and dizzy when he straightened up and hobbled back over to the bed. The revolver had fallen next to Shu, and Salem's hand hovered over it for a moment before he switched tracks and simply gathered up the remaining bullets that had sat between them. He scooped them into his palm and deposited them back into his coat pocket, and after a moment of consideration, grabbed Shu's bag to root through. Remaining food, water, and medical supplies went into his own bag, along with the spool of barbed wire and cutters. He left the shotgun untouched.
Shu could keep the revolver, too. He'd earned it.
((Salem Fox continued in Permian))
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
Shu Hawthorne - S102