Fragment 24d

[Zetsu]

[Ren Vu continued from the pines]

They went to the research station because of logistics. The mining town was big and risky, impossible to thoroughly search; safer to comb through a lab and the handful of buildings that meant to keep it functioning. They travelled parallel to the road, several meters out; a bashful wind blew them along, cutting into them--they never did have a talent for heat retention--but covering the sound of their footsteps. As they lacked the willpower to keep their steps careful and quiet all the way to the research station, they needed it. They hated that they needed it, or thought they did.

They weren't entirely sure, though. Their feelings were being distant with them. Which they understood; if they allowed themselves to actually emotionally process everything, if they thought about never seeing their siblings again, if they thought about how they and most if not all of their friends would soon be dead, if they thought about how the only people who would be left to remember and miss them were the parents and family members who didn't even know who they actually were--they would be so, so helpless. So it was better if they and their strangers remained strangers with one another, if Ren refused to think about what they desperately wanted to think about.

...they'd been thinking about it, hadn't they.

Better to have a moment at the side of an empty road, where no one could find them. Better to make mistakes at a time when they could afford to.

[+] drabbles

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Your internal monologue, my dear[
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Ren's autobiographical observations, including, but not limited to*:

1. Ren's theory of their own mind is contingent. Self-reference is (to some extent) a contradiction.
2. Autistic =/= arelational.
3. Ren is autistic af.
4. Contact is necessarily reciprocal.
5. This is another way to say that all that Ren shapes, shapes them; that which is untouched, cannot be shaped.
6. An unmarked block of wood is not a statue, unless it is an experimental modern art piece.
7. Ren likes modern art. They like it because they find it relatable, and depressing.
8. Because Ren finds modern art depressing, they do not engage with it very much despite liking it.
9. What does it mean that wood is carved, and not shaped?
10. Soon (almost) everyone that is Ren and that Ren is will be gone. (Remove? This is too uncertain to qualify as an 'observation')
11. Sappho's poetry can be described as 'shattered' or 'fragmentary.'
12. Ren really likes Sappho's poetry.
13. Ren engages with Sappho's poetry very frequently.
14. Is it not apparent that I am desperate?
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]piercingly, without substance
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Then they were done, and they moved on; it was sometime in the midday when they arrived at the research station. Or, at least, midday felt about right to them; the clouds were hiding the time of day. The buildings were ugly, even when they were snow-frosted, but no matter; buildings of any kind were bound to attract students.* Ren was certain that there were people here; from here, finding the people they were looking for was a simple lottery.

They pulled their gun out, left the safety on. Better to risk being late on the draw than accidentally shoot someone; Ren already knew they were twitchy. Actually, their hands were already starting to shake. Their palms were sweating. No good; they had to do it now, before their brain had time to convince their body to go into a full-blown panic.

The building nearest them looked like some kind of garage; one of the roll-up doors was open partway. Ren would have to crawl, or maybe crouch, to get in, let themself become a potential easy picking. No good. They approached the closed door instead, and knocked out a sound that was somewhere between a rasp and a clang.

"Hello?" They had to hope their voice would carry, without carrying too far. "If there's anyone here, it's Ren. I'm alone. If you know me, I want to say hi."

They forced themself to stand still as their blood accelerated. If they needed to run, the treeline was only ten meters away. Any sound of hostile movement (what made a movement hostile, or the sound of a movement hostile? Ren would have to clarify this later), and they would be free and clear long before anyone could crawl out from under that door. For now, however, they would stay.

______________________
*cf. Sara Ahmed's Queer Phenomenology, and Octavia Butler's Parable of the Sower.

**Ren felt the need to relay here, for the sake of honesty, that they were longing desperately for a warm room, one with a crackling fire and an armchair they could curl up in and, if they were feeling indulgent, perhaps even a book to be scavenged and read. They had fantasized about this multiple times on the way here; it was entirely possible that they were projecting their desires a little. Still, the formula of "shelters = good" probably applied to most everyone.

[BlizzardeyeWonder]

[Meena Lalita Kumar continued from It's Lights Out, And Away They Go!]

She He She was still wearing women's clothes He wandered for a while, stewing in indignant rage for as long as possible, before it slipped away from him. His pink boots were obviously bloodied, but the blood had long since dried out, so only specks were left behind in bootprints.

His anger at California was entirely petty but maybe like everyone who was mad at someone he could dig for reasons to make that rage valid and renew it again. Stupid twenty-year-old in high school who probably thinks she's better and smarter and more mature than everybody. Whatever you say, mom. But eventually, the cold bothered him more than California's kind of - actually, definitely disdainful comment towards him back there. Eventually, the rage died down.

And then he wandered into the garages hoping it would fire up again.

Meena hated cars. He hated getting into her dad's car and constantly having to tell him what the road signs said because he was getting old and his sight was getting worse and you'd think having to rely on your spry kid to not break road laws would be a sign you need to get your glasses changed or stop driving but no. Meena could vividly imagine the day he got into that car and crashed and burned because of his dad's stupid old person eyes. He could vividly imagine his dad getting into that car without any guide with actually working eyes because Meena was here on murder island, and crashing. He could smell the smoke. He already smelled the blood.

He'd been sitting in the corner, scraping a stick he'd found against the floor, while glaring at the vehicles. He hoped if he glared at them hard enough his hatred for cars and pretty calming scenery and everyone else on this island would make them explode.

There was a knock at one of the garage doors, and a voice that Meena recognized.

"Oh." Oh no, oh no. "Hi, Ren."

Meena hated everyone on this island, it had to be true. He was going to go around and make that clear as day until someone got fed up with the real Meena, they would. It had to happen, the world had to know the real him. But right now, there was a problem.

Meena liked Ren. Most of the time. To be honest sometimes Ren annoyed them for the same reasons Meena made up to hate California. Everyone wanted a parent friend until they had to deal with, you know, a parent. Or was that just Meena? It was probably just Meena. He didn't like being told his parents were kinda shitty even if he already knew it. He didn't like being told or shown that people actually cared for him and didn't want him to waste away and vanish because the opposite felt unshakably true, it just felt fake. Sometimes Meena wondered if Ren was someone he made up.

"It's just me, in here."

[Zetsu]

Ren's silly little glass-like heart did a silly little jolt--they'd found one, and, bit by bit, something inside them began to unwind. More would be better, but one was more than enough.

Ren had a purpose, now; by which they meant, they could be put to use, now; by which they meant, they were a person, now.

After all, Ren had always been someone that their friends made up.

Their voice betrayed nothing. That was a good thing, and Ren hated it, or thought they hated it. "Hang on. It will take me a second to come in."

The pack went on the ground. Ren followed, which was probably a mistake. It was hard to push something while you were lying on the ground; you ended up being pushed in the opposite direction of the thing you were pushing, and then you had to pull yourself back forward, gripping onto something other than what you were pushing, of course, and all the way it felt less like the heat was draining out of you and more like the cold was leeching its way in (Ren's Note: insert a witty observation about thermodynamics here). Which was odd, actually, or maybe just ironic, because they had been thinking that 'defrosting' was really a better descriptor than 'unwinding' for the sensation in what might have been their heart or their stomach or their soul or--oh, for fuck's sake, Ren.

You know you don't care about this.

Shut your brain up; pull the rest of your body through; chatter your teeth like the undignified cold little wretch that you are; sit up, chatter your teeth some more, start remembering what it is to be a real human being and reach out for--

They stopped themself in time. "Sorry. Hi. I want to give you a hug, if that's okay."

[BlizzardeyeWonder]

He just kinda stared as Ren crawled through the bit of open garage door. He thought about trying to pry it more open, but it was probably frozen in place, he was probably too weak and tiny to help much.

Meena definitely didn't want to help anyway, and definitely didn't want a hug, and definitely did not kinda want to close things off with a friend with the creaking of a gently closed door rather than slamming it in their face. After all, if Ren knew the Meena they'd see on the island sooner or later was what he really was all along, they'd have never called him a friend.

A stray thought told him to menace the shotgun at them to prevent further contact, which would be for the best. Some might call that an intrusive thought but it wasn't, and Meena knew so because it didn't disgust him, and he allowed it to linger rather than push it away. It was like all the other cynical and objectively evil thoughts that Meena sometimes entertained.

But he didn't take the shotgun out of his bag. Instead he just nodded and stood up at Ren's request. He took a moment to dust off his coat. He didn't extend an arm first.

"Okay."

[Zetsu]

Ren buried the wince, smiled with what they hoped was something approaching lightness. “You know that you don’t have to, right?”

They were thinking again. What was it about Ren and saving their impulsive/indulgent moments for the worst possible time?* If a hug would make Meena uncomfortable, they could and would have to content themself with having found him, with paying no heed to the part of their brain that begged to accept Meena's unwilling offer, to do something, anything to feel more substantial. Trust with Meena was something fragile, carefully built up and delicately balanced, and Ren could not lose Meena. They simply could not do it.

Ren pulled their legs up and shoved themself to their feet, staggering slightly. They let their gaze slide away from Meena; between friends, staring was rude.

“I never was much good with hugs, anyways, in the beforetimes. So, you know. Forget I asked. I get it.”

______________________
*Okay, this was actually far from the worst possible moment, but one has to keep in mind Ren’s skewed sense of priorities.

[BlizzardeyeWonder]

Another stray thought occurred to Meena. Ren wanted to say hi to their friends, right? Meena had actually just met one of their friends, but, hm.

Meena could envision it. His face as dead as ever as he said Kitty killed someone, really bloodily and messily while Ren's current smile vanished, and then what? They'd be sad. Maybe they'd lash out at the messenger? Probably not, but maybe they would if Meena was really rude about it.

It was weird. Ren had never rejected Meena, even when Meena rejected Ren (in imperceptible, unspoken ways, like not wanting a hug). The idea that they might was scary, in the same way going somewhere you'd never gone before was scary. Not existentially mortifying, not at all. Not at all... it'd be cathartic, because all of Meena's friendships were doomed anyway, so it would be nice to control how they ended.

It would be nice to just blurt that out now and get it over with, but he was never very good with words.

He just slowly nodded. "I mean... I'm just kind of rattled right now."

Oh, so he was gonna ease into it? Meena was still a coward.

[Zetsu]

“Right! Of course. Just, glad to have found you. And that you’re. Unharmed?”

What Meena said felt misplaced, somehow, just slightly to the left of being truthful and correct, but they were probably reading into things too much (as usual). He didn’t want a hug, and it made sense that he was rattled; it really wasn’t all that deep. What, did Ren think they were entitled to a hug?*

They shook their head to clear it, sighed. Of course, Meena had always been even more of a closed book than Ren was; and, of course, neither of them had ever minded long periods of uninterrupted silence. But still, Ren rarely felt like Meena was hiding something rather than from them.

Their eyes widened suddenly. “Or, actually. Are you unharmed? You haven’t been attacked already, have you?”

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*Calm down, Ren, you’ve never acted like you were entitled to a hug before. One slip-up isn’t going to make you a bad person.

[BlizzardeyeWonder]

Was it time? To drop the bomb? Meena was stalling because he was a coward, a weakling, who impotently tugged at his tethers and never made a serious attempt to actually cut them. If he stayed like that, they'd strangle him out on this island. He'd die, but that wasn't the problem. The problem was that he'd die covered in a web of lies.

Severing the thread meant freedom. Severing the thread meant truth. In a way, Ren was never friends with the real Meena so it'd be fine, maybe even painless. For the real Meena, that was. The Meena that existed right now in Ren's eyes would have a tougher time. Sucked to be him.

"Not attacked. Unharmed."

And of course that Meena kept stalling. You know, like an oversensitive baby who feared rejection and actually was pretty hurt by California's reaction to them. Couldn't be him. Not the real one, anyway.

He looked Ren over. They looked cold, but everybody was cold. They had a gun, a small one. Meena's shotgun was in his bag.

"What about... you? Did you meet anyone else?"

Unfortunately, Meena still liked Ren. That's why this thing had to be severed in the first place, yeah?

[Zetsu]

There was definitely something that Meena wasn’t telling Ren; his trust for them had been lost, if it had ever existed.

“Oh okay good. Good good good,” Ren said a little too quickly, ignoring Meena’s questions for now. “Would hate to be derivative when I decide to secretly bleed out over the course of several hours tomorrow.”

Ren giggled fretfully; they were probably catastrophizing. There was really no reason for Meena to share everything with Ren at this point, in these circumstances, and it was faintly ridiculous of them to expect otherwise. That Meena was presently an impassive wall scarcely mattered to anyone but Ren, least of all Meena; in other words, it didn't matter, and so Ren could live with a few secrets! In a manner of speaking, anyways—Ren didn’t intend to leave the island alive, but don’t worry about that! There were far more important things to worry about than silly little Ren and their silly little feelings, and they could ill afford to waste their pity on themself when they wouldn’t be alive to appreciate it for long, anyways.

“Anyways, I’m okay,” they said, despite the abundance of evidence to the contrary. “Unharmed. Not attacked. Ran into Timothy earlier, but I think I accidentally scared him off. Haven’t had cause to actually use the gun,” they added, slightly wildly; Meena was staring at it. That was fair; Meena had never seen Ren carry a gun before (Ren had never carried a gun before). “I did test it, though, and it works fine. I think. You can have dibs on it, wh—“

They stopped their tongue before they could complete the disaster that would've been the word ‘when.’

“Wh—mm—pft—bleh. Sorry. You can have dibs on it if I die.”

[BlizzardeyeWonder]

Meena blinked, in that way you blink when someone says something wildly concerning (not that Meena himself was concerned of course) and you couldn't really do anything but blink and breath and all that automatic life-supporting bullshit while you processed it for a few seconds. Ren might have seen it a few times. Ren might have done it a few times, switching their current places a bit.

"That... won't be necessary," he muttered. He remembered to speak clearly. "They gave me a shotgun."

Which also worked fine. Meena had also fired it, once - at a window. She didn't stick around to see how California reacted, because fuck her that's why.

Ren mentioned who they ran into. He didn't know a Timothy, but he didn't know a lot of people in their year. That meant maybe it was Meena's turn to reciprocate and finally say they ran into Kitty and she did something heinous.

He forgot how to speak clearly again, though. "I also, uh... ran into some people," he muttered.

[Zetsu]

Ren wanted to make the point that Meena should still take the gun if/when they ended up dying, regardless of whether they already had a gun or not; it'd be more than a little stupid to leave it on the ground for someone else to take, or to, say, bury it with Ren's body. Ren shuddered to think of being buried with a gun.

This was all rather academic, and Meena was smart enough that clarifying that point was probably unnecessary, but it still felt important to make sure, given that Ren would be unable to clear things up once they were dead. Besides, this line of thought was a good way to distract themself from what they had been thinking about earlier, which was, frankly, less important anyways. Also, no margin for error in a death game, et cetera.

They would probably seem unnecessarily concerned with planning out the circumstances of their own death if they insisted on pushing the point, though, so they put a mental pin in it for later.

Also, Meena was now saying that he had apparently run into some people, too, which--Who? What happened? Why weren't they with him?

Bombarding your friends with questions before they were ready to talk was usually considered bad practice, though.

"Ah...did you also accidentally scare them off by waving your shotgun around? Because if so: oof. Mood." Unlike forcibly injecting levity into a conversation, which was definitely the objective best choice in this situation.

[BlizzardeyeWonder]

((cw: suicidal impulses from here on out))

Did he scare them off? God Meena wished. "Um, no, not- I scared them, but like... they didn't like... run..."

It was time. It was absolutely time. He needed to spit it out and get it over with and hope Ren was... what? Gonna shove him away over it? Gonna be too busy crying to notice Meena running away? Apparently Meena had repressed his true self so much he had trouble remembering how to act like a heartless bastard when it would actually benefit him for once. Well, benefit the real Meena. Like a chick pecking its eggshell.

"You..."

Ren would absolutely want to hear about it, if they knew Meena ran into Kitty. They might regret it later but like, if Ren asked then...?

"Um..."

Coward. Liar. Maybe if Meena actually acted on his stray thoughts to drown himself in the pool in middle school he wouldn't be in this fucking mess. Maybe if Meena wasn't a coward he would have already taken the knife from Kitty and-

He said, barely above a whisper. "I saw... California... and Kitty-"

Once again, a valve in his throat turned off, and he said no more.

[Zetsu]

Ren blinked; they forgot their useless hand-wringing. They forgot decorum.

"Kitty? Is she okay? And Cali?" they added hastily, guiltily.

Followed by a slower, but no less guilty, "Sorry. Um. Take your time. I'll be...well, not okay, but...I want to know."

"Please," they added, because they couldn't help themself.

[BlizzardeyeWonder]

Meena knew they weren't okay. He saw it for himself. In a way, he was still in that blood-soaked cabin, Robin's grave, and his face scrunched up involuntarily - the memory summoned the smell. Maybe Ren would think he was grimacing at them which was... fine! Completely fine! Ren would have done the same to the real Meena anyway.

He took a not-too-deep breath in, and settled himself - his posture, and his face. Never mind his heart beating like Kitty was still pointing the knife at him, not out of fear (definitely not) but out of the excitement of being next in a queue. He could stop it, but he hoped it sped up and exploded.

But he needed to settle himself, especially his face, before he could say anything coherent.

His tone was flat, quiet, as dead as Robin even, which he hoped would mask the ever-so-slight embellishment in his story, as he said "I saw Kitty kill someone."

[Zetsu]

“Kitty...killed...someone...?” Ren’s face was blank. They were unreadable, or should have been.

Kitty was a killer?

Kitty was alive?

“Who? How? I...what did you see?”