"...So that's how Aecor fell. I haven't really gotten past that yet, but I do have some idea of a post-collapse civilization rediscovering the ruins like we dug up Pompeii, but... I mean, I don't think I can finish that right now."
Amy always thought of her as a winter kind of girl. She liked it when the snow coats the windows and when it's cold but just warm enough underneath the body heat and the layers. She liked icy roads and she liked the way precipitation melted and then froze off the trees.
She loved winter the way that only a romantic could love, someone sheltered from frostbitten toes and shoveling snow out of driveways.
Anyways. There really wasn't a good way for her to descibe how she felt right now, curled up in the corner of some room, not knowing how to build or stoke a fire with her measly little lighter. Everything was cold and dark and she wanted it to be warm and bright. She wanted someone to take her home and she wanted to be taken apart and fixed and put back together again, but better this time.
One day someone will unplug her brain from her vat, or the cosmic dust that made up her consciousness would disperse across the universe, and it really could happen. And then, there would be nobody left. She hoped she was right, back when she was breaking down after Prii. She hoped that none of it even existed, that nobody was even real, so that she could be validated in her blind trust in the world despite all the horrible people and things. And that none of them suffered, becuse they weren't here in the first place, and that meant that there were no signals to be sent and no pain to be felt.
Unfortunately, that wasn't the case. In the end, she would still be cold, and shivering, and bloodstained, and the earth would continue to spin with its billions of lives. This was an undisputable fact. Barely anybody would miss her if she was just wiped from the earth, and that was a comfort, because at least that meant that people would feel less pain, but it was also depressing as well. She didn't want everything to fade away with her.
So she took a deep breath, looked at the camera, and continued on her narration.
By some unrecorded and powerful hand
Whoops (pm to enter)
By some unrecorded and powerful hand
Blood Tongue Nails Teeth
((Shu Hawthorne continued from hanging out with Amos and Przemek))
"...And in his mouth was a globe so bright
I wonder what could it be..."
Shu hummed to himself under his breath as he carefully pushed open the front door of the hunting lodge and poked his head inside. All that greeted him was a massacre, so he slipped in and closed the door behind.
He shook the snow off his head and lowered the hood of his jacket. The old wood floors creaked under his steps as he wandered and surveyed everything. He didn't mind hearing the lodge share its story with him as a detour. Though, from the bullet holes embedded into the walls and the overturned tables and the corpse rotting two feet in front of him, Shu didn't need to listen too hard to get the picture.
He poked the body's forehead with the other end of the shotgun, like a stick. He looked like he was quite handsome before the cold stole his warmth. Shame.
The next thing that caught Shu's eye was the wall of animal heads, mounted and left to rot as trophies for the bullies that murdered them. He kept staring at one of a black bear, and he heard her final screams for help as she was gunned down and gutted just because someone felt like it.
It was sickening. Disgusting. It was why Shu couldn't trust anyone; everyone was a hunter in their own right.
He furrowed his brow harder and harder until his eyes almost popped a blood vessel and exploded at the mockery. He snarled as he readied the shotgun and released the trigger, blasting at the animal mount and freeing her and several others from their prison as they was shattered to kingdom come.
"...And in his mouth was a globe so bright
I wonder what could it be..."
Shu hummed to himself under his breath as he carefully pushed open the front door of the hunting lodge and poked his head inside. All that greeted him was a massacre, so he slipped in and closed the door behind.
He shook the snow off his head and lowered the hood of his jacket. The old wood floors creaked under his steps as he wandered and surveyed everything. He didn't mind hearing the lodge share its story with him as a detour. Though, from the bullet holes embedded into the walls and the overturned tables and the corpse rotting two feet in front of him, Shu didn't need to listen too hard to get the picture.
He poked the body's forehead with the other end of the shotgun, like a stick. He looked like he was quite handsome before the cold stole his warmth. Shame.
The next thing that caught Shu's eye was the wall of animal heads, mounted and left to rot as trophies for the bullies that murdered them. He kept staring at one of a black bear, and he heard her final screams for help as she was gunned down and gutted just because someone felt like it.
It was sickening. Disgusting. It was why Shu couldn't trust anyone; everyone was a hunter in their own right.
He furrowed his brow harder and harder until his eyes almost popped a blood vessel and exploded at the mockery. He snarled as he readied the shotgun and released the trigger, blasting at the animal mount and freeing her and several others from their prison as they was shattered to kingdom come.
Amy jumped, yelled, and scrambled back until she hit the wall- she was so lost in her own mind a while ago, but... what was she thinking about again?
A doe’s head rolled by her feet, and by instinct, she made another squeaking noise at its eyes staring right up at her. By some other, misprogrammed instinct, she picked it up.
It would be a lie for her to say that she ethically disapproved of hunting- mostly because of the balance of the ecosystem and stuff. Like, how feral cats get killed and skinned in Australia because they were killing all the wildlife, or something like that. But there’s something about the sport of it all that made her uncomfortable?
(Aecor’s bi-yearly whale hunts had stopped by the 13th Age.)
Like, she read about deer culling before? When people tried to kill the bucks with the worst horns so that the local population would have more Good Horn Genes or something. It was an artificially induced natural selection, where humans fill a role as a mismanaged part of the ecosystem and not some indecipherable steamroller force that tramples all of nature beneath its heel?
Anyhow. She didn’t think too hard about that, because she suddenly realized that there was a person here, and-
“Are you- ohgoshthatscaredme. Um. Are you hurt?” Amy’s tired legs pushed themselves to work as she hurried to her newest visitor- it’s been a while since she met someone that was alive.
A doe’s head rolled by her feet, and by instinct, she made another squeaking noise at its eyes staring right up at her. By some other, misprogrammed instinct, she picked it up.
It would be a lie for her to say that she ethically disapproved of hunting- mostly because of the balance of the ecosystem and stuff. Like, how feral cats get killed and skinned in Australia because they were killing all the wildlife, or something like that. But there’s something about the sport of it all that made her uncomfortable?
(Aecor’s bi-yearly whale hunts had stopped by the 13th Age.)
Like, she read about deer culling before? When people tried to kill the bucks with the worst horns so that the local population would have more Good Horn Genes or something. It was an artificially induced natural selection, where humans fill a role as a mismanaged part of the ecosystem and not some indecipherable steamroller force that tramples all of nature beneath its heel?
Anyhow. She didn’t think too hard about that, because she suddenly realized that there was a person here, and-
“Are you- ohgoshthatscaredme. Um. Are you hurt?” Amy’s tired legs pushed themselves to work as she hurried to her newest visitor- it’s been a while since she met someone that was alive.
Blood Tongue Nails Teeth
A flurry of cotton and wood snowed down over the wall where the mounted head was, now just a fragment of what it once was.
Shu didn't have much time to absorb his work as a girl much shorter than himself screamed and flinched. He jumped in sync with her, but kept staring at her as she adjusted herself back to this plane and ran up to him.
And as she neared, Shu flung the end of the shotgun right at her face like a released spring, unmoving as he scowled and towered over her.
He couldn't tell who she was, either from missing memory or from euphoria of the shotgun blast. But a pang in his gut told him that she wasn't what he was looking for.
"Tell me why your face shouldn't be blasted to Elysium right now. You have two seconds."
Shu didn't have much time to absorb his work as a girl much shorter than himself screamed and flinched. He jumped in sync with her, but kept staring at her as she adjusted herself back to this plane and ran up to him.
And as she neared, Shu flung the end of the shotgun right at her face like a released spring, unmoving as he scowled and towered over her.
He couldn't tell who she was, either from missing memory or from euphoria of the shotgun blast. But a pang in his gut told him that she wasn't what he was looking for.
"Tell me why your face shouldn't be blasted to Elysium right now. You have two seconds."
"I didn't do it. I didn't- it was like this when I got here!"
Amy mustered up her biggest wettest puppy dog eyes and shrunk herself in.
"I thought- I don't want to hurt you." Her hand reached out, but then decided to float back. She wanted so badly to touch him. It's been so long since she's felt her hand on something warm. Instead, she dropped the deer's head.
There were a few other questions- like, what did he mean by elysium? Was it from a greco- modern paganistic belief or just a figure of speech? Why did he shoot? What was his name? Who did he see die over the past week?
She settled for, "Were you planning to stay here?" Her arm gestured awkwardly to the room.
Amy mustered up her biggest wettest puppy dog eyes and shrunk herself in.
"I thought- I don't want to hurt you." Her hand reached out, but then decided to float back. She wanted so badly to touch him. It's been so long since she's felt her hand on something warm. Instead, she dropped the deer's head.
There were a few other questions- like, what did he mean by elysium? Was it from a greco- modern paganistic belief or just a figure of speech? Why did he shoot? What was his name? Who did he see die over the past week?
She settled for, "Were you planning to stay here?" Her arm gestured awkwardly to the room.
Blood Tongue Nails Teeth
Shu glared harder as the girl pleaded and changed the subject. All the good her stage show did was make Shu's finger pull ever so closer to the trigger.
But, right at the last moment, he didn't. His eyes went wide and he was about to say something, cutting himself off as quick as the sound left his mouth.
One hand left the shotgun, allowing it to dangle limp and pointed at the floor. Then he reached out and grabbed the girl's deep blue scarf, jerking her forward with one tug until she was right under Shu.
"This isn't yours. Where did you get this?" he demanded, shoving the end of the scarf in her face, his voice rabid like a mad dog.
But, right at the last moment, he didn't. His eyes went wide and he was about to say something, cutting himself off as quick as the sound left his mouth.
One hand left the shotgun, allowing it to dangle limp and pointed at the floor. Then he reached out and grabbed the girl's deep blue scarf, jerking her forward with one tug until she was right under Shu.
"This isn't yours. Where did you get this?" he demanded, shoving the end of the scarf in her face, his voice rabid like a mad dog.
"He gave it to me."
Amy took a step forward to keep up, pulled in like she was leashed and collared. A small hand reached out and took the end of the scarf.
"Why do you care?"
Amy took a step forward to keep up, pulled in like she was leashed and collared. A small hand reached out and took the end of the scarf.
"Why do you care?"
Blood Tongue Nails Teeth
A huff of anger blasted from Shu's mouth. He let go of the scarf and huffed again, muttering something to himself as he wandered several feet away, each floorboard creaking underneath his steps.
Suddenly his demeanor flipped and he walked towards the girl, as if compelled by some force. He reached out for her, resting his hand under her cold chin and propped her head up towards him before he leaned in real close, stopping just short of kissing her. The angry expression had melted for one hardened by focus, and he had something important to make clear.
"If you touch him again, I will kill you. Understand?"
Suddenly his demeanor flipped and he walked towards the girl, as if compelled by some force. He reached out for her, resting his hand under her cold chin and propped her head up towards him before he leaned in real close, stopping just short of kissing her. The angry expression had melted for one hardened by focus, and he had something important to make clear.
"If you touch him again, I will kill you. Understand?"
"I didn't touch him."
Which was true, right?
"He touched me, though."
Her head tilted, or was as tilted as it could be. "Wait, were you talking about violence or sex? Or like touching literally? He touched me literally. He made me get drunk." Then, as an offering- "I still have some left."
One of his hands was still on his shotgun, but he wasn't paying attention to-
It wouldn't work. She was sure it wouldn't.
Which was true, right?
"He touched me, though."
Her head tilted, or was as tilted as it could be. "Wait, were you talking about violence or sex? Or like touching literally? He touched me literally. He made me get drunk." Then, as an offering- "I still have some left."
One of his hands was still on his shotgun, but he wasn't paying attention to-
It wouldn't work. She was sure it wouldn't.
Blood Tongue Nails Teeth
And then focus made way for contempt as Shu left go of the girl's face, recoiling his hand with force as it whipped her head to the right.
"Just... don't touch him. Again. Ever. I'll know."
Both hands returned to rest on the shotgun, now aimed at the floor as he physically stepped away, only turning around after giving several feet of clearance between the two of them.
"Got separated from my puppy. You seen him anywhere?"
"Just... don't touch him. Again. Ever. I'll know."
Both hands returned to rest on the shotgun, now aimed at the floor as he physically stepped away, only turning around after giving several feet of clearance between the two of them.
"Got separated from my puppy. You seen him anywhere?"
"Is... the puppy Josh?"
She laughed a little, despite herself. Josh was kind of puppy like, wasn't he? The way that he got all up in people's boundaries. Like an undertrained golden retriever.
Then he went ahead and killed Mariya, and the great ancestral wolf came along and snapped his teeth.
(why'd he do it?)
She laughed a little, despite herself. Josh was kind of puppy like, wasn't he? The way that he got all up in people's boundaries. Like an undertrained golden retriever.
Then he went ahead and killed Mariya, and the great ancestral wolf came along and snapped his teeth.
(why'd he do it?)
Blood Tongue Nails Teeth
He responded in a scoff, the frustration painted on his face as he set the shotgun down on one of the upright tables and took a seat, resting his arms over his lap and folding his hands into each other as he stared at the girl.
"No. Looking for Przemek. Seen him? He ran off his leash."
"No. Looking for Przemek. Seen him? He ran off his leash."
"Who's... what? How do you spell that, even?"
Amy laughed a little more, even when the voice that came out of her sounded wrong.
"Did you actually have him in a leash, though? Like a dog? I guess I'll keep a lookout if I can find him."
She knew, for some reason, that she'd be delivering him to his doom if she kept her word. An image formed in her mind- something about dogs and euthanization and shelters, but it wasn't complete. To be honest, she hoped he was being metaphorical, but it didn't seem like it. She could picture it, really. A young man crawling on all fours, the shotgun boy holding a leash. A red collar with a stylized metal bone as a name plate, reading however his name was spelled, or maybe just a giant P engraved, a bold, strong font. He'd be half naked, even in the snow, and would lay up in the corner of the room if he were here, silent and shivering amongst the bodies of this room, blood in his maw and ribs jutting out, panting out visible steam into the air. A poor, sad mutt begging for scraps.
The mental image was kind of drawing her in, as horrible and grotesque as it was- it was a catastrophicizing spiral of her own hypotheticals. And as she worked on it in her mind, it became more and more absurd, and thus safer to crawl into, as opposed to reality. P-guy as snoopy and shotgun guy as a fucked up charlie brown. P-guy wearing fake dog ears and a wagging tail. Playing fetch. Eating out of a food bowl. It was kind of funny and entertaining, until she realized that she might be thinking of an actual, real person and the boy in front of her may not be entirely delusional.
In which case, the fact that he had a human dog of sorts would be fucking terrifying. Unless it was consensual. But it was probably not.
(And also, like, why is being a dog inherently a bad thing? Imagine having a giant slave that gives you treats when you do something good and takes you out to play and carry you around cleans the place that you live in, this little slice of paradise where the entire bottom 2/3 of your hierarchy of needs is basically filled.)
In the end, it didn't matter if her imagination was as wild as reality, nor if the person in front of her was only using canine metaphors, because she was sure P ran away for a reason. Maybe it involved leashes and maybe it didn't.
A childish look of fascination painted itself across her face, but only because she willed it at the last second.
"...But I don't even know who you are."
Amy laughed a little more, even when the voice that came out of her sounded wrong.
"Did you actually have him in a leash, though? Like a dog? I guess I'll keep a lookout if I can find him."
She knew, for some reason, that she'd be delivering him to his doom if she kept her word. An image formed in her mind- something about dogs and euthanization and shelters, but it wasn't complete. To be honest, she hoped he was being metaphorical, but it didn't seem like it. She could picture it, really. A young man crawling on all fours, the shotgun boy holding a leash. A red collar with a stylized metal bone as a name plate, reading however his name was spelled, or maybe just a giant P engraved, a bold, strong font. He'd be half naked, even in the snow, and would lay up in the corner of the room if he were here, silent and shivering amongst the bodies of this room, blood in his maw and ribs jutting out, panting out visible steam into the air. A poor, sad mutt begging for scraps.
The mental image was kind of drawing her in, as horrible and grotesque as it was- it was a catastrophicizing spiral of her own hypotheticals. And as she worked on it in her mind, it became more and more absurd, and thus safer to crawl into, as opposed to reality. P-guy as snoopy and shotgun guy as a fucked up charlie brown. P-guy wearing fake dog ears and a wagging tail. Playing fetch. Eating out of a food bowl. It was kind of funny and entertaining, until she realized that she might be thinking of an actual, real person and the boy in front of her may not be entirely delusional.
In which case, the fact that he had a human dog of sorts would be fucking terrifying. Unless it was consensual. But it was probably not.
(And also, like, why is being a dog inherently a bad thing? Imagine having a giant slave that gives you treats when you do something good and takes you out to play and carry you around cleans the place that you live in, this little slice of paradise where the entire bottom 2/3 of your hierarchy of needs is basically filled.)
In the end, it didn't matter if her imagination was as wild as reality, nor if the person in front of her was only using canine metaphors, because she was sure P ran away for a reason. Maybe it involved leashes and maybe it didn't.
A childish look of fascination painted itself across her face, but only because she willed it at the last second.
"...But I don't even know who you are."
Blood Tongue Nails Teeth
Something about her sudden big innocent puppy-dog eyes turned Shu's stomach inside out. He couldn't look at her anymore; he turned towards the shotgun, rested his head on his upright arm and fiddled a finger around the barrier of the trigger with the other hand, anything so he wouldn't have to see her until she stopped.
"Nevermind. It's not important.
"Maybe get your head out of the gutter, first."
"Nevermind. It's not important.
"Maybe get your head out of the gutter, first."
"I'm not- I'm- that's not sexual!"
Indignantly, and perhaps laying it on a bit too thick, Amy pouted. She wasn't really sure how to be emotionally manipulative, especially towards a guy from which the only thing she wants was "please don't point that shotgun at me." There were so many approaches that were probably better than her faux regressing pedomimicry whateverness. She wasn't used to playing an act. If there was one thing that Amy wanted to embody, it was honesty. She had no idea how to swim across the layers and deception and all the mess that made human society so difficult to navigate through. Even now, she was fighting to keep that part of herself intact.
'You said that he was your dog. How was I supposed to know?"
Both of her hands balled up into fists. For the first time in a little while, she felt genuinely annoyed. Slighted by a minor lapse in communication. It was almost nice that she wasn't mad at people dying or shooting at her or whatnot. Really, how was she meant to understand that the leash wasn't literal?
"Ah, yeah nevermind."
She took a step forward, determined to avoid awkward silence- which wasn't really like her, now that she thought about it, but she liked predictable, calm silence, and not person-with-gun silence. And then another step. She could latch on to him, maybe. She could use him. But she wouldn't. Because she was incompetent, not because she was that particularly good of a person, though she did believe in her own goodness. It wasn't hubris when she had bloodless hands to prove for it. And maybe goodness hasn't won her that many favors, but even in the face of death there would still be human pride, that fundamental sin, nestled into the heart- "I did well," it says. "I behaved." Nobody would there to pet her face and call her a good girl, but that doesn't really matter. The integrity of the soul, whether said soul was real or not, triumphed the flesh.
Or something like that, but also this sounds awfully like someone in denial would say, right?
"So how have you been?"
Indignantly, and perhaps laying it on a bit too thick, Amy pouted. She wasn't really sure how to be emotionally manipulative, especially towards a guy from which the only thing she wants was "please don't point that shotgun at me." There were so many approaches that were probably better than her faux regressing pedomimicry whateverness. She wasn't used to playing an act. If there was one thing that Amy wanted to embody, it was honesty. She had no idea how to swim across the layers and deception and all the mess that made human society so difficult to navigate through. Even now, she was fighting to keep that part of herself intact.
'You said that he was your dog. How was I supposed to know?"
Both of her hands balled up into fists. For the first time in a little while, she felt genuinely annoyed. Slighted by a minor lapse in communication. It was almost nice that she wasn't mad at people dying or shooting at her or whatnot. Really, how was she meant to understand that the leash wasn't literal?
"Ah, yeah nevermind."
She took a step forward, determined to avoid awkward silence- which wasn't really like her, now that she thought about it, but she liked predictable, calm silence, and not person-with-gun silence. And then another step. She could latch on to him, maybe. She could use him. But she wouldn't. Because she was incompetent, not because she was that particularly good of a person, though she did believe in her own goodness. It wasn't hubris when she had bloodless hands to prove for it. And maybe goodness hasn't won her that many favors, but even in the face of death there would still be human pride, that fundamental sin, nestled into the heart- "I did well," it says. "I behaved." Nobody would there to pet her face and call her a good girl, but that doesn't really matter. The integrity of the soul, whether said soul was real or not, triumphed the flesh.
Or something like that, but also this sounds awfully like someone in denial would say, right?
"So how have you been?"