I've been thinking about a few things lately. Also drinking just a little bit. Looking at this game of cat and mouse we've been playing and the notions we have of who the "good guys" and the "bad guys" are. I want to ask a few questions.
Let's take a "runner" that a lot of people are familiar with. Elaine, how about. She's pretty popular these days. Could be anyone, really. Elaine's who we're using, but feel free to substitute it with any other "runner's" name. It could even be your own, if that didn't automatically mean you'd have a biased opinion in the matter. Just has to be someone who's not a complete pacifist, and who would kill if it became necessary.
Let's take someone like me, who works for The Boss for the sake of protection for themselves and their brother. Again, could be anyone. Just a "proxy" who works for The Boss willingly, but for good reasons.
Let's take someone like Poe, who really had no choice in the matter and is afraid for their life, yet actively pursues "runners." It's their job, and they have to do it, no questions asked.
Let's take someone like Nee-chan, who clearly has some preexisting issues, like an inferiority complex and what's probably some sort of stunted growth of moral comprehension. Someone who hunts down people and enjoys it, but who really doesn't quite understand the implications or repercussions of what they're doing, just because they're not quite there.
None of us have any sort of particular grudge against each other. In fact, there might even be some respect, or even affection, returned or unreturned. Sound neutral enough? In the end it doesn't matter, because we're all just examples to set up a scenario.
And now let's ask ourselves a few questions. Let's look at these six questions and give them a complete lack of context other than "they were in the same room together and they were on different sides." All we know is that the two of them were in a room, and only one of them ever left. Don't start setting up different scenarios, just give me your first reaction. On second thought, maybe give me the first scenario your mind assumes, too. After all, we don't know what happened. Do you just assume that the victor acted in self-defense? Do you try justifying their actions? Or do you instantly condemn them as the instigator?
How would you react if I killed Elaine?
How would you react if Elaine killed me?
How would you react if Poe killed Elaine?
How would you react if Elaine killed Poe?
How would you react if Nee-chan killed Elaine?
How would you react if Elaine killed Nee-chan?
Food for thought.
Monday, January 16, 2012
Monday, January 9, 2012
New Year
Okay, I've gotten Poe's permission to post this. It may as well come out now. This is how we spent New Year's Eve.
[We're sitting on the couch, watching some TV (more looking at it than watching it, actually--I don't even remember what was on). Not really saying anything. We've got beer. Not much. Neither of us are particularly big drinkers, but you guys know that already. This is a bit of a special occasion, though. After all, the last time we were drinking together, we were trying to forget shitty things, too.]
Messenger: So...another year gone, huh?
Poe: ...Yeah.
M: [chuckling slightly] Kyle would always say...well, he always insisted on emphasizing the new year instead of the old. Fresh beginnings and all that. But I guess we don't really have much to look forward to, do we?
P: [shrugs] I guess there's really not much behind us, either.
M: Yeah. Might be almost tolerable if there were something worth it in the present, though. But it's a shitty present, too. [pause] So...yeah. [pause] Goodbye, 2011.
P: Goodbye.
[we sit in silence for a bit, taking an occasional sip on occasion]
M: So, um...listen, Poe...look, I know you don't want to talk about this, but...this thing with Screwtape....
P: [looking down] It's nothing.
M: Poe, those bruises...they're not nothing. Look, I'm really sorry I saw that. I never meant to walk in on you like that. But I did see them, and I know they got there somehow.
P: You really shouldn't worry about it, Messi.
M: Well it's a little fucking late for that now, isn't it, now that we're in a sort of Mexican standoff with Screwtape over this whole thing.
P: Well, perhaps if you'd just forget about it....
M: [deep breath] Look, Poe...you're the only friend I really have right now. And this is...this is something I can't just forget about. It's only hurting you more to ignore this.
P: Not everyone has it as easy as you, Messi. This isn't the worst thing that could happen to me.
M: Yeah, but...look, Poe, that's not the point! You don't deserve this.
P: That's not the point either.
M: What is the point, then?
P: That some things are what they are.
M: They are what they are, huh? I don't even know what they are, because you won't fucking tell me. What's he doing to you, Poe?
[silence]
P: Nothing huge. Just a smack or two. When we can't find someone. A belt if I make a mistake.
M: ...the fuck? Nothing huge? You're just...Poe, that's abuse! That's illegal!
P: Messi, what do you expect me to do? He says that he believes the only reason I'm...allowed to have thoughts of my own is because, um, You Know Who doesn't know about me yet.
M: [I stumble over my words a few times] And you just...go along with that?
P: If I don't, he'll find some way to let him know. I'm not going back to that, Messi. I can't.
M: What, and Screwtape's absolutely right about this? You know for sure that this crazy theory of his is right? Poe, you know that he thinks that The Boss is picking us as some sort of "chosen" to remake the world in his image after he "purges" it, right?
P: How do you know he's wrong? What if he's not?
M: So...you can't risk it. You won't risk...going back to Eddie. [she nods] Look, Poe, it's not that I don't understand that, it's just that...I can't let him do this to you.
P: I can't go back there, Messi.
M: You...you won't. We'll find another way. Some other way to get him to stop.
P: [I could swear the corners of her mouth tug up for a split second] Thank you.
[silence]
M: So this is why you haven't been updating your blog or posting around, isn't it?
P: Yeah...yeah it is.
M: He punishes you for that, too? [she nods. silence] So...does Eternity know about this?
P: I don't know. Apart from that Thanksgiving, I've never seen him. Probably.
M: And does, um...does any of this have to do with that, um...that thing with Donovan?
P: I don't know. Probably.
M: Does Screwtape know about that? [she nods] How did he find out?
P: He's smarter than you give him credit for. You have to be good at reading subtle things like that to be a Tracker.
M: Is it...just the beatings, then? I mean, he...doesn't do anything else, does he?
P: What do you mean?
M: Never mind. It's...never mind.
P: No. Please. Messi, what do you mean?
M: Well, it's just...there are, you know...forms of abuse other than physical. And other forms of physical abuse.
P: Are...are you asking what I think you're asking?
M: Um...yes? And no. Probably. But I'm asking about more than just that, too.
P: [she covers her mouth, stifling a laugh] No, Messi. Nothing...nothing worth mentioning.
M: Okay...okay, good. Sorry. Um...that's good. [pause] So...do you have any ideas on how we can, you know...stop this? [she shakes her head] Well...tell you what. We'll figure something out. New Year's resolution, right there, huh? How's that sound? [extending my bottle]
P: [extending her bottle to tap it against mine, allowing herself a smile] Sounds like a plan.
[we drink, then fall silent for a while, watching the TV again]
M: Poe? Can I ask you a question?
P: I...I guess?
M: Why did you, you know..."let Donovan go," as you put it?
P: I...I don't really know. I just...I liked him. I didn't want to see him die.
M: Even though you knew that if Screwtape found out, he'd...?
P: Well...yeah.
M: He...he used to mean a lot to you, didn't he?
[there's a pause before she nods]
M: ...He still does, doesn't he?
P: [a long pause] I...I don't know.
[there's another long silence]
M: ...Do I?
[understandably, another long silence]
P: Yes.
[I don't really remember how exactly I reacted, but there's another pause. I think I probably drank some more. Or maybe a lot more.]
M: I'm sorry I haven't been there for you recently. That I've been so withdrawn lately.
P: I...it's okay.
M: No, it's not. I was stupid and should have picked up on clues I didn't. I ran my mouth without thinking. I feel like this is all partially my fault. Like I could have stopped it if I had just, you know, been there for you more.
P: You couldn't have.
M: Well yeah, but, but I mean, maybe I would have figured it out sooner, and...I'm sorry.
P: It's okay, Messi.
M: [trying to smile] I guess...I guess I just don't want to lose you. You, uh...you mean a lot to me. I worry about you. I mean, I've lost Hyde and Caper and...I don't think I could stand losing you. I think it'd be harder.
P: I...uh...thank you.
[She pauses, then leans forward and wraps her arms around me, pressing her cheek against my chest. I'm caught off guard, but slip my arms out of her embrace after a second and put them around her. And then we just...sit like that for a bit.]
M: Hey, Poe?
P: Yeah?
M: ...What time is it?
P: Uh...11:56
M: They're probably pretty antsy over in Time Square, huh? I, um...look, I'm sorry if I've said anything that's upset you.
P: I...no. No, Messi, you didn't say anything to upset me.
M: Good, good. I'm...heh. I'm not really too good with people.
P: That's okay. I am. It isn't any fun.
M: Uh, Poe?
P: Yeah?
[A pause. I lean forward and, uh...our lips meet for a few seconds. She smiles again. That real smile that I see so rarely.]
P: Um...h-happy new year, Messi.
M: Yeah. Happy new year. ...You know, I think that's the second time I've seen you smile like that. [she blushes] It's a shame you've been drunk both times.
P: I'm not drunk!
M: You've been drinking, though. You're at least a little tipsy.
P: I'm...[blushes slightly, then kisses me again] Well, I'm at least a little sleepy, I guess.
M: That...I'm going to assume that was the alcohol speaking there.
P: [laughs] It's okay.
M: I bet you're not even going to remember this in the morning.
P: I will too!
M: [I look at her] It's...almost strange seeing you like this. You know, so happy. It's like you're an entirely different person. Is...is this what you were like as Annabel?
P: [her face falls a bit and she looks down] I...I don't know. I don't really remember.
M: ...Right, I'm, uh, I'm sorry for bringing that up. Shouldn't have done that.
P: Maybe...maybe we should get to bed soon.
M: Yeah. That'd probably be a good idea. Uh, goodnight, I guess. And, um...happy new year, Poe.
P: [she gives a hesitant, slightly embarrassed smile] Happy new year, Messi.
Screwtape, I know you're reading this. I'm hoping we can settle this as calmly as possible. If not, well, I know you're a man of integrity, if nothing else. I trust that we can find the best way to settle this.
How would the meme-obsessed people say this again? Oh yeah.
Come at me, bro.
-Don't Shoot The Messenger-
[We're sitting on the couch, watching some TV (more looking at it than watching it, actually--I don't even remember what was on). Not really saying anything. We've got beer. Not much. Neither of us are particularly big drinkers, but you guys know that already. This is a bit of a special occasion, though. After all, the last time we were drinking together, we were trying to forget shitty things, too.]
Messenger: So...another year gone, huh?
Poe: ...Yeah.
M: [chuckling slightly] Kyle would always say...well, he always insisted on emphasizing the new year instead of the old. Fresh beginnings and all that. But I guess we don't really have much to look forward to, do we?
P: [shrugs] I guess there's really not much behind us, either.
M: Yeah. Might be almost tolerable if there were something worth it in the present, though. But it's a shitty present, too. [pause] So...yeah. [pause] Goodbye, 2011.
P: Goodbye.
[we sit in silence for a bit, taking an occasional sip on occasion]
M: So, um...listen, Poe...look, I know you don't want to talk about this, but...this thing with Screwtape....
P: [looking down] It's nothing.
M: Poe, those bruises...they're not nothing. Look, I'm really sorry I saw that. I never meant to walk in on you like that. But I did see them, and I know they got there somehow.
P: You really shouldn't worry about it, Messi.
M: Well it's a little fucking late for that now, isn't it, now that we're in a sort of Mexican standoff with Screwtape over this whole thing.
P: Well, perhaps if you'd just forget about it....
M: [deep breath] Look, Poe...you're the only friend I really have right now. And this is...this is something I can't just forget about. It's only hurting you more to ignore this.
P: Not everyone has it as easy as you, Messi. This isn't the worst thing that could happen to me.
M: Yeah, but...look, Poe, that's not the point! You don't deserve this.
P: That's not the point either.
M: What is the point, then?
P: That some things are what they are.
M: They are what they are, huh? I don't even know what they are, because you won't fucking tell me. What's he doing to you, Poe?
[silence]
P: Nothing huge. Just a smack or two. When we can't find someone. A belt if I make a mistake.
M: ...the fuck? Nothing huge? You're just...Poe, that's abuse! That's illegal!
P: Messi, what do you expect me to do? He says that he believes the only reason I'm...allowed to have thoughts of my own is because, um, You Know Who doesn't know about me yet.
M: [I stumble over my words a few times] And you just...go along with that?
P: If I don't, he'll find some way to let him know. I'm not going back to that, Messi. I can't.
M: What, and Screwtape's absolutely right about this? You know for sure that this crazy theory of his is right? Poe, you know that he thinks that The Boss is picking us as some sort of "chosen" to remake the world in his image after he "purges" it, right?
P: How do you know he's wrong? What if he's not?
M: So...you can't risk it. You won't risk...going back to Eddie. [she nods] Look, Poe, it's not that I don't understand that, it's just that...I can't let him do this to you.
P: I can't go back there, Messi.
M: You...you won't. We'll find another way. Some other way to get him to stop.
P: [I could swear the corners of her mouth tug up for a split second] Thank you.
[silence]
M: So this is why you haven't been updating your blog or posting around, isn't it?
P: Yeah...yeah it is.
M: He punishes you for that, too? [she nods. silence] So...does Eternity know about this?
P: I don't know. Apart from that Thanksgiving, I've never seen him. Probably.
M: And does, um...does any of this have to do with that, um...that thing with Donovan?
P: I don't know. Probably.
M: Does Screwtape know about that? [she nods] How did he find out?
P: He's smarter than you give him credit for. You have to be good at reading subtle things like that to be a Tracker.
M: Is it...just the beatings, then? I mean, he...doesn't do anything else, does he?
P: What do you mean?
M: Never mind. It's...never mind.
P: No. Please. Messi, what do you mean?
M: Well, it's just...there are, you know...forms of abuse other than physical. And other forms of physical abuse.
P: Are...are you asking what I think you're asking?
M: Um...yes? And no. Probably. But I'm asking about more than just that, too.
P: [she covers her mouth, stifling a laugh] No, Messi. Nothing...nothing worth mentioning.
M: Okay...okay, good. Sorry. Um...that's good. [pause] So...do you have any ideas on how we can, you know...stop this? [she shakes her head] Well...tell you what. We'll figure something out. New Year's resolution, right there, huh? How's that sound? [extending my bottle]
P: [extending her bottle to tap it against mine, allowing herself a smile] Sounds like a plan.
[we drink, then fall silent for a while, watching the TV again]
M: Poe? Can I ask you a question?
P: I...I guess?
M: Why did you, you know..."let Donovan go," as you put it?
P: I...I don't really know. I just...I liked him. I didn't want to see him die.
M: Even though you knew that if Screwtape found out, he'd...?
P: Well...yeah.
M: He...he used to mean a lot to you, didn't he?
[there's a pause before she nods]
M: ...He still does, doesn't he?
P: [a long pause] I...I don't know.
[there's another long silence]
M: ...Do I?
[understandably, another long silence]
P: Yes.
[I don't really remember how exactly I reacted, but there's another pause. I think I probably drank some more. Or maybe a lot more.]
M: I'm sorry I haven't been there for you recently. That I've been so withdrawn lately.
P: I...it's okay.
M: No, it's not. I was stupid and should have picked up on clues I didn't. I ran my mouth without thinking. I feel like this is all partially my fault. Like I could have stopped it if I had just, you know, been there for you more.
P: You couldn't have.
M: Well yeah, but, but I mean, maybe I would have figured it out sooner, and...I'm sorry.
P: It's okay, Messi.
M: [trying to smile] I guess...I guess I just don't want to lose you. You, uh...you mean a lot to me. I worry about you. I mean, I've lost Hyde and Caper and...I don't think I could stand losing you. I think it'd be harder.
P: I...uh...thank you.
[She pauses, then leans forward and wraps her arms around me, pressing her cheek against my chest. I'm caught off guard, but slip my arms out of her embrace after a second and put them around her. And then we just...sit like that for a bit.]
M: Hey, Poe?
P: Yeah?
M: ...What time is it?
P: Uh...11:56
M: They're probably pretty antsy over in Time Square, huh? I, um...look, I'm sorry if I've said anything that's upset you.
P: I...no. No, Messi, you didn't say anything to upset me.
M: Good, good. I'm...heh. I'm not really too good with people.
P: That's okay. I am. It isn't any fun.
M: Uh, Poe?
P: Yeah?
[A pause. I lean forward and, uh...our lips meet for a few seconds. She smiles again. That real smile that I see so rarely.]
P: Um...h-happy new year, Messi.
M: Yeah. Happy new year. ...You know, I think that's the second time I've seen you smile like that. [she blushes] It's a shame you've been drunk both times.
P: I'm not drunk!
M: You've been drinking, though. You're at least a little tipsy.
P: I'm...[blushes slightly, then kisses me again] Well, I'm at least a little sleepy, I guess.
M: That...I'm going to assume that was the alcohol speaking there.
P: [laughs] It's okay.
M: I bet you're not even going to remember this in the morning.
P: I will too!
M: [I look at her] It's...almost strange seeing you like this. You know, so happy. It's like you're an entirely different person. Is...is this what you were like as Annabel?
P: [her face falls a bit and she looks down] I...I don't know. I don't really remember.
M: ...Right, I'm, uh, I'm sorry for bringing that up. Shouldn't have done that.
P: Maybe...maybe we should get to bed soon.
M: Yeah. That'd probably be a good idea. Uh, goodnight, I guess. And, um...happy new year, Poe.
P: [she gives a hesitant, slightly embarrassed smile] Happy new year, Messi.
Screwtape, I know you're reading this. I'm hoping we can settle this as calmly as possible. If not, well, I know you're a man of integrity, if nothing else. I trust that we can find the best way to settle this.
How would the meme-obsessed people say this again? Oh yeah.
Come at me, bro.
-Don't Shoot The Messenger-
Monday, January 2, 2012
Lots of Dead People
Happy New Year. Let's celebrate by talking about some people who died near the end of last year.
Okay, we're gonna do these all at once, considering that there's a lot of them. Most of them either have someone else to end or continue their blog, so most didn't go up as reports, but here's what we've got.
Maduin the Jester: We're pretty sure he's dead, but as no one in Poland is connected to us, we haven't been able to get them to cooperate and send a report. What's already been posted by Sopia on his own blog is about all we're getting. Maduin seemed like a pretty cool guy. Had a strange sense of humor. I guess he was a big deal or something.
Lucas and Joel: They seemed like pretty cool people, really. At least they understood that the side you're on has no relationship to your morality. Some chick (or dude, maybe? I'm not really sure) called Ember Fay provided a pretty good report of what happened.
Michael or Nemo or whoever he is: Died at Hope or something. I think. I didn't keep very good notes, just wrote down the name. Never even really knew the guy. I should...look into that more. Write a report or something maybe.
UPDATE: Turns out I was wrong. Got the note in the "Confirmed Dead" file instead of the "Believed Dead" one. We've got no confirmation on this.
Ava: Yeah, this is a blast from the past, isn't it? Well, we kept tabs on her, even after she decided that she was going to not say anything to any of you anymore, and now that she's dead, we don't have to anymore! Always nice to see some closure. Frankly, I thought she was a bit of an arrogant bitch, but I guess she was pretty important to some of you guys.
Konaa: Can't be completely sure yet, but I think he's probably dead. Or was dead. And then he undied (I fucking hate it when they do that), just so he could die again on the Solstice. Showoff. Anyway, he seemed pretty cool. Didn't know him too well. Mostly just remember him as the guy who stabbed Nee-chan, which I really can't object to, considering that it was in self defense. Gotta give him props for that, actually, after having seen those videos of her in action.
UPDATE: Nope, sorry. Apparently he survived his near-death experience. Konaa's still alive.
Beast: There's a report coming for him. Eventually. Curious fellow, really.
UPDATE: Here's the report.
Anyway, I think that's everyone. I'll get them added to the List. I've got...another post to go up soon, but I need to get my head back on straight before I can write it up. But soon.
-Don't Shoot The Messenger-
Okay, we're gonna do these all at once, considering that there's a lot of them. Most of them either have someone else to end or continue their blog, so most didn't go up as reports, but here's what we've got.
Maduin the Jester: We're pretty sure he's dead, but as no one in Poland is connected to us, we haven't been able to get them to cooperate and send a report. What's already been posted by Sopia on his own blog is about all we're getting. Maduin seemed like a pretty cool guy. Had a strange sense of humor. I guess he was a big deal or something.
Lucas and Joel: They seemed like pretty cool people, really. At least they understood that the side you're on has no relationship to your morality. Some chick (or dude, maybe? I'm not really sure) called Ember Fay provided a pretty good report of what happened.
Michael or Nemo or whoever he is: Died at Hope or something. I think. I didn't keep very good notes, just wrote down the name. Never even really knew the guy. I should...look into that more. Write a report or something maybe.
UPDATE: Turns out I was wrong. Got the note in the "Confirmed Dead" file instead of the "Believed Dead" one. We've got no confirmation on this.
Ava: Yeah, this is a blast from the past, isn't it? Well, we kept tabs on her, even after she decided that she was going to not say anything to any of you anymore, and now that she's dead, we don't have to anymore! Always nice to see some closure. Frankly, I thought she was a bit of an arrogant bitch, but I guess she was pretty important to some of you guys.
Konaa: Can't be completely sure yet, but I think he's probably dead. Or was dead. And then he undied (I fucking hate it when they do that), just so he could die again on the Solstice. Showoff. Anyway, he seemed pretty cool. Didn't know him too well. Mostly just remember him as the guy who stabbed Nee-chan, which I really can't object to, considering that it was in self defense. Gotta give him props for that, actually, after having seen those videos of her in action.
UPDATE: Nope, sorry. Apparently he survived his near-death experience. Konaa's still alive.
Beast: There's a report coming for him. Eventually. Curious fellow, really.
UPDATE: Here's the report.
Anyway, I think that's everyone. I'll get them added to the List. I've got...another post to go up soon, but I need to get my head back on straight before I can write it up. But soon.
-Don't Shoot The Messenger-
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Holiday "Cheer"
Ho ho ho. Happy fucking Holidays.
As Christmas approached, New York started to get insanely busy. Might be my imagination, but it seemed busier than previous years. Must be because everyone tried to make this year count, considering that the world’s evidently cockblocking us by exploding four days before the holiday actually hits next year.
And while everyone else was busy decorating everything and buying gifts and singing Christmas songs and writing Christmas letters, I’ve been busy juggling an incredibly tricky situation and writing about people who have died recently.
I’m sure you’re all wondering what’s going on with Poe and those bruises. Well, I, like an idiot, decided that the rational thing to do in a fit of panic was to freak out and post it where the world could see it. It’s kind of habit to post anything I think is noteworthy here, and my brain didn’t make the jump from “this is something important” to “I should keep this between Poe and myself.” I’ll explain more later once things around here die down some and once I’m free to talk about it, but the laconic and vague version is that Screwtape is, in one way or another, directly responsible for the bruises. Because all three of us know that I’d press Poe for answers that she’d have to give to me, as soon as I posted he knew I’d find out, and we all know that you guys aren’t going to just glaze over this, so the secret’s basically out. Which makes the whole situation difficult for all three of us, since we’re dancing around the topic. The thing is, even though what Screwtape is doing isn’t right, we’re in a situation where we can’t exactly say that he’s in the wrong, and things are tense as we’re all waiting to see who makes the next move.
Poe and I spent Christmas in our apartment. Didn’t really celebrate. Not much reason to. We invited Nee-chan to spend the day with us, though, mostly to bring some cheer to the place. She’s pretty easy to shop for, especially with Poe to help figure out her more specific tastes. Knives, anime, plushies, anything else related to anime or Japan…not exactly like I need to agonize over figuring out what she’d love. It’s the nice part about shopping for obsessive people.
New Year’s Eve we’re probably spending alone at the apartment. It’ll be nice to have the quiet. Nee-chan’s mentioned something about spending time with some of Morningstar 1.0’s old crew, so she’s out of the picture. Then we can finally move past this so-called “time of joy and cheer” and try to regain some normalcy in our routines. You know, continue the standoff with Screwtape. Figure out what the hell’s going on around me. Cling to my fleeting sanity. The usual.
I should have a post commenting on the recent deaths up soon. I’ll update the list at that time.
-Don’t Shoot The Messenger-
Monday, December 12, 2011
Okay, what the fuck is going on?
Poe and Screwtape got back the other day. Again, I've got no details for you other than the fact that they're back.
Poe's been fairly quiet, as usual. I decided I'd go and talk to her just a few minutes ago. We hadn't really spoken more than a few sentences to each other for over a week, and I figured I'd at least chat with her about how exactly the assignment went (since, you know, I'm privy to information that none of the rest of you are). Went to her room to say hi.
Why didn't I knock why the FUCK didn't I knock?
So I, wonderful person I am, stupidly didn't notice that maybe her door was closed for a reason, and that maybe next time I should knock before walking in on my roommate, because maybe htere's a chance that she's changing.
I should have looked away immediately. I know I should have. I shouldn't have been fucking staring at her half-undressed looking at the skin beneath those dresses she wears that's never otherwise exposed. But I couldn't help myself because
I really don't know which was worse: the embarrassment of walking in on her like that, or
fuck
Why the fuck was her body covered in bruises?
Seriously, why the hell didn't she mention that before? I mean...what the fuck is going on? I...she had a bit of a black eye for a bit a while earlier, but she waved it off and said that someone had accidentally opened a door she was standing near and
Oh my god I cannot believe I actually fucking bought that. I am SUCH a dumbass.
I'm...I don't know what to do here. I just...I need to actually go ask her about this now. Because when I walked in on her, we just sort of stood there frozen for a while before I bolted and
motherfucker. motherfuckign fuck
oh gd my hands are shaking.
Why did she not mention this to me before?
I am such a fucking dumbass.
Poe and Screwtape got back the other day. Again, I've got no details for you other than the fact that they're back.
Poe's been fairly quiet, as usual. I decided I'd go and talk to her just a few minutes ago. We hadn't really spoken more than a few sentences to each other for over a week, and I figured I'd at least chat with her about how exactly the assignment went (since, you know, I'm privy to information that none of the rest of you are). Went to her room to say hi.
Why didn't I knock why the FUCK didn't I knock?
So I, wonderful person I am, stupidly didn't notice that maybe her door was closed for a reason, and that maybe next time I should knock before walking in on my roommate, because maybe htere's a chance that she's changing.
I should have looked away immediately. I know I should have. I shouldn't have been fucking staring at her half-undressed looking at the skin beneath those dresses she wears that's never otherwise exposed. But I couldn't help myself because
I really don't know which was worse: the embarrassment of walking in on her like that, or
fuck
Why the fuck was her body covered in bruises?
Seriously, why the hell didn't she mention that before? I mean...what the fuck is going on? I...she had a bit of a black eye for a bit a while earlier, but she waved it off and said that someone had accidentally opened a door she was standing near and
Oh my god I cannot believe I actually fucking bought that. I am SUCH a dumbass.
I'm...I don't know what to do here. I just...I need to actually go ask her about this now. Because when I walked in on her, we just sort of stood there frozen for a while before I bolted and
motherfucker. motherfuckign fuck
oh gd my hands are shaking.
Why did she not mention this to me before?
I am such a fucking dumbass.
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
Meeting Eddie
I went to visit Eddie today. You know, the guy who takes care of the husks (or whatever you want to call them--I'm going with husks for the sake of consistency).
Apparently he and the people he takes care of live in a warehouse. Something big enough to hold a couple dozen people, but not enough that they can live comfortably. Eddie's about the only person who actually owns anything other than some necessities.
He greeted me with a handshake, though it was all business with no real friendly intentions. Eddie is, like I mentioned in an earlier post, a man with a very hard-looking expression. Intense, focused.
He followed my gaze to the husks, who were milling around. "You really shouldn't stare," he said quietly. "I mean, it's not like they notice, and I understand why you're staring, but it just seems...well, rude to them, I guess. I can't ask you not to, of course, but it'd be nice if you could at least try to refrain from it."
I nodded. It was an understandable request. "I'll try. I'm largely here to understand, though, so I might have to at times. Less staring, more...observing. Studying. Trying to understand them."
He scoffed. "Like they're just animals in a zoo." He shook his head apologetically at my reaction to his response. "Sorry, not your fault. Sort of an involuntary response. Most people don't even show interest. I guess I'm a touchy about it because it's a bit too close to the truth for comfort." He nodded to the husks. "I mean, look at them. It's pretty obvious that they're something less than human. Not like they deserve to be treated like it, though."
He stopped, took a deep breath, and rubbed his eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm just not used to company. Don't really know how to react. The only person who ever came by on a regular basis was Caper. Truth be told, I kind of miss him. He just sort of had a way with them." He looked down. "He managed to do what I never could."
"You're...talking about Poe?"
"Yeah, still stunned over that. Especially considering what Poe's like. These people have just...given up. Lost all reason to keep fighting. I think that's what a large part of the process of becoming like this is. He just takes away your will to fight. And I never would have expected Poe of all people to start fighting again."
I looked around a bit more. "Why do you call her Poe?" I asked him. "Wouldn't you have known her when she was Annabel?"
He shook his head. "She wasn't anyone when I knew her, Messenger. These people--they don't have names. Sure, maybe I knew that her name was Annabel Lee, but why would I call her that? She wouldn't answer to it. None of these people answer to their own names, and no one else gives them a name of their own. Do you know how I refer to them, Messenger? By a number. That's all they are to anyone other than me. They're nameless. Just given numbers, like cattle. Why bother keeping up with them all? They come and go so quickly, after all. Let's just give them a number so we don't have to learn the name of someone who'll just be gone next week."
His voice wavers with anger on that last part. A heavy silence hangs in the air for a few seconds.
"You...don't like your job," I say. He shoots me a look that makes me painfully aware of how obvious that last statement was. "I mean...most of the others seem to enjoy their jobs at least somewhat. You just really seem like...I don't know. Like you got the short stick. How do you deal with it?"
He shook his head slowly. "I don't, really. I'm on Uberman's sleep schedule because I can't afford any more sleep while watching all these guys. The pills help. Sometimes. It's a taxing job. Physically, because of the constant attention they require and the occasional need for self-defense. Emotionally, because just look at them. You can't work with shells of humans and stay emotionally balanced. That's what most of the pills are for."
"So why do you do all this, then?"
"Because no one else wants to. No one can. Would you help me out?" I hesitated, and he continued before I could answer. "Exactly. Clearly, you don't want to, and I can't make someone do something they don't want to. So it's just me."
"You really must hate The Boss, too."
He shook his head. "I don't know. One one hand, I know what he's doing isn't good. On the other hand, I don't know if he even knows what he's doing. He's not human, Messenger. We can't hold him to human morals or explain him through human means. But all those fucking runners? Them I hate. They're humans, and they're so ready to kill their own. Sure, they claim self-defense, but do you really need to kill someone to defend yourself against them? They just don't think of them as people anymore." He started shaking. "I've dressed and fed these people. I've looked them in the eye far too many times. Once is almost enough to crush your spirit." He pointed to a couple stack of notebooks sitting against the wall. "They filled all those just yesterday. None of it makes any sense. They just scrawl gibberish and sloppy pictures because they have nothing else to do. They don't know what to do with themselves so they just empty their minds into them. And I have to throw them out and burn them because there's nothing else to do with them."
I paused, wondering how exactly to make my next statement. "You seem...more normal than the others."
He scoffed. "None of us is 'normal,' Messenger. Not even you. If by 'normal' you mean 'less sociopathic,' well, maybe I am. But maybe I'm not. Trust me, if I had a button that could end humanity, I'd push it. This job turned me suicidal before the pills, and even now, every time I take them, I'm tempted to 'accidentally' overdose. You're living in a mad world, and it's time you admitted that. None of us is normal or sane anymore."
I shifted my weight around. "Hey, uh...thanks for talking to me, Eddie. I'd better get back soon, though. I'll...I'll try to visit now and then."
Eddie looked up at me. "You won't," he said. He didn't look angry or sad, just...resigned to the fact. "No one comes by just because they want to."
I let him know that I'd at least try before shaking his hand and leaving. I really would like to come back, too. I asked him about himself and what he does, but I really didn't get a lot of information about the husks themselves. Hopefully next time.
-Don't Shoot The Messenger-
Apparently he and the people he takes care of live in a warehouse. Something big enough to hold a couple dozen people, but not enough that they can live comfortably. Eddie's about the only person who actually owns anything other than some necessities.
He greeted me with a handshake, though it was all business with no real friendly intentions. Eddie is, like I mentioned in an earlier post, a man with a very hard-looking expression. Intense, focused.
He followed my gaze to the husks, who were milling around. "You really shouldn't stare," he said quietly. "I mean, it's not like they notice, and I understand why you're staring, but it just seems...well, rude to them, I guess. I can't ask you not to, of course, but it'd be nice if you could at least try to refrain from it."
I nodded. It was an understandable request. "I'll try. I'm largely here to understand, though, so I might have to at times. Less staring, more...observing. Studying. Trying to understand them."
He scoffed. "Like they're just animals in a zoo." He shook his head apologetically at my reaction to his response. "Sorry, not your fault. Sort of an involuntary response. Most people don't even show interest. I guess I'm a touchy about it because it's a bit too close to the truth for comfort." He nodded to the husks. "I mean, look at them. It's pretty obvious that they're something less than human. Not like they deserve to be treated like it, though."
He stopped, took a deep breath, and rubbed his eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm just not used to company. Don't really know how to react. The only person who ever came by on a regular basis was Caper. Truth be told, I kind of miss him. He just sort of had a way with them." He looked down. "He managed to do what I never could."
"You're...talking about Poe?"
"Yeah, still stunned over that. Especially considering what Poe's like. These people have just...given up. Lost all reason to keep fighting. I think that's what a large part of the process of becoming like this is. He just takes away your will to fight. And I never would have expected Poe of all people to start fighting again."
I looked around a bit more. "Why do you call her Poe?" I asked him. "Wouldn't you have known her when she was Annabel?"
He shook his head. "She wasn't anyone when I knew her, Messenger. These people--they don't have names. Sure, maybe I knew that her name was Annabel Lee, but why would I call her that? She wouldn't answer to it. None of these people answer to their own names, and no one else gives them a name of their own. Do you know how I refer to them, Messenger? By a number. That's all they are to anyone other than me. They're nameless. Just given numbers, like cattle. Why bother keeping up with them all? They come and go so quickly, after all. Let's just give them a number so we don't have to learn the name of someone who'll just be gone next week."
His voice wavers with anger on that last part. A heavy silence hangs in the air for a few seconds.
"You...don't like your job," I say. He shoots me a look that makes me painfully aware of how obvious that last statement was. "I mean...most of the others seem to enjoy their jobs at least somewhat. You just really seem like...I don't know. Like you got the short stick. How do you deal with it?"
He shook his head slowly. "I don't, really. I'm on Uberman's sleep schedule because I can't afford any more sleep while watching all these guys. The pills help. Sometimes. It's a taxing job. Physically, because of the constant attention they require and the occasional need for self-defense. Emotionally, because just look at them. You can't work with shells of humans and stay emotionally balanced. That's what most of the pills are for."
"So why do you do all this, then?"
"Because no one else wants to. No one can. Would you help me out?" I hesitated, and he continued before I could answer. "Exactly. Clearly, you don't want to, and I can't make someone do something they don't want to. So it's just me."
"You really must hate The Boss, too."
He shook his head. "I don't know. One one hand, I know what he's doing isn't good. On the other hand, I don't know if he even knows what he's doing. He's not human, Messenger. We can't hold him to human morals or explain him through human means. But all those fucking runners? Them I hate. They're humans, and they're so ready to kill their own. Sure, they claim self-defense, but do you really need to kill someone to defend yourself against them? They just don't think of them as people anymore." He started shaking. "I've dressed and fed these people. I've looked them in the eye far too many times. Once is almost enough to crush your spirit." He pointed to a couple stack of notebooks sitting against the wall. "They filled all those just yesterday. None of it makes any sense. They just scrawl gibberish and sloppy pictures because they have nothing else to do. They don't know what to do with themselves so they just empty their minds into them. And I have to throw them out and burn them because there's nothing else to do with them."
I paused, wondering how exactly to make my next statement. "You seem...more normal than the others."
He scoffed. "None of us is 'normal,' Messenger. Not even you. If by 'normal' you mean 'less sociopathic,' well, maybe I am. But maybe I'm not. Trust me, if I had a button that could end humanity, I'd push it. This job turned me suicidal before the pills, and even now, every time I take them, I'm tempted to 'accidentally' overdose. You're living in a mad world, and it's time you admitted that. None of us is normal or sane anymore."
I shifted my weight around. "Hey, uh...thanks for talking to me, Eddie. I'd better get back soon, though. I'll...I'll try to visit now and then."
Eddie looked up at me. "You won't," he said. He didn't look angry or sad, just...resigned to the fact. "No one comes by just because they want to."
I let him know that I'd at least try before shaking his hand and leaving. I really would like to come back, too. I asked him about himself and what he does, but I really didn't get a lot of information about the husks themselves. Hopefully next time.
-Don't Shoot The Messenger-
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Alone Again
Well, Poe and Screwtape took off yesterday. They're going to be doing some field tracking, which I can't really say too much about. Can't tell you where they're going, can't tell you who the target is, can't even say whether it's a name that I or any of you would recognize. All I can say is that they're going to be gone for probably around a week. I've made Poe promise to write something up at some point while she's gone for me. I
And now I'm alone again. Nee-chan came over for a bit and we watched the latest episode of that Mirai Nikki show, but she left again right after that. It's kind of nice. Poe's always been pretty quiet, so it's not like the place is suddenly silent, and it's sort of freeing just knowing that I'm alone and being able to relax. Having some space.
Anyway, I'm probably going to go meet with Eddie in a day or two to ask him some questions. Be looking forward to that, because you're going to get to hear all about the mindless drones you've been constantly killing. Fun.
-Don't Shoot The Messenger-
And now I'm alone again. Nee-chan came over for a bit and we watched the latest episode of that Mirai Nikki show, but she left again right after that. It's kind of nice. Poe's always been pretty quiet, so it's not like the place is suddenly silent, and it's sort of freeing just knowing that I'm alone and being able to relax. Having some space.
Anyway, I'm probably going to go meet with Eddie in a day or two to ask him some questions. Be looking forward to that, because you're going to get to hear all about the mindless drones you've been constantly killing. Fun.
-Don't Shoot The Messenger-
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