It Takes Time <To Be Properly Taken Apart> - Chapter 10
Chapter 10
Chapter Length: 4,000~ wordsRaqi Marr's Grand Play: Part II
CONTENT WARNING: Certain parts of this chapter are extremely rough. The variables in purple during a certain segment of this chapter depict some of the most vile things I've had said to me in the past, TWs for which include: transphobia, homophobia, ableism, a lot of derogatory remarks against autistic people, and incitements to commit suicide. If you are feeling in any way sensitive at all, I advise either saving these for later or just skipping them entirely. Blue variables are safe-er to read, if generally still a bit ow; but in line with what we've seen up until now.
At once, the stage began to shift. Both the wooden base and the curtain seemed to begin to merge together, becoming... Punica struggled to describe what she was seeing. It was like the stage had become both flat, and three dimensional at the same time. The Chimera module produced a constant flickering around the mass that comprised it, giving it an almost ethereal quality that made it difficult to focus on. After a moment, it seemed to stabilize somewhat; becoming a mostly two dimensional image. The image itself was a low quality rendition of what Punica thought was the interior of a spacecraft. At the same time however, it also seemed to be depicting the exterior of a spacecraft? It was as if two images were somewhat awkwardly overlaid over each other, one of which was two dimensional and the other of which was three dimensional, and both were constantly fighting over which got to be visible at the forefront of the display. Every few seconds, one would achieve superiority over the other, but then the other would flicker back into the front and take precedence. The level of detail across the entire image also varied drastically. The picture was overall relatively blurry, but some aspects were in incredibly crisp and vivid detail; such as for example one window in the back of the spaceship. It was sharp enough that the outlines of stars could be seen through it, as well as the framing where the glass connected to the rest of the wall. Elsewhere, however, the picture was so indistinct as for the details to be impossible to identify. "Quite some time ago, a woman was born somewhere within the Landamar Mobile Fleet." In time with Raqi's words, the picture shifted. A man and a woman with the same feathered hair as Raqi's appeared, depicted in a heavily stylized matter akin to that of a pre-Compact era physical drawing, holding what Punica interpreted to be an infant of their species; its body entirely blurred and lacking any detail beyond the shape and head. "No one actually knew that of her at the time, and it would take everyone - her included - quite some time to figure it out. But for now that didn't matter." The scene changed. It now depicted a short adolescent figure, still heavily stylized and dressed in what Punica thought resembled the uniforms commonly worn in educational establishments within some societies. The figure stood within a long corridor, flanked by a number of other individuals clothed in similar garments. "This child was poorly suited for the world which she found herself in. Expectations were placed upon her which she could not live up to, and she was punished as a result of it." The image zoomed in on the central figure. Their posture changed to depict them sat on the floor, knees pulled up to their chest, and their head sheltered beneath their arms. "She suffered greatly, and grew ill as a result of it. She became lethargic, and disinterested in the outside world. Seeing what was becoming of her, her family chose to remove her from the environment which she had been placed in." The image changed to depict the same individual, now looking much taller, sat in a room on a large chair in front of a familiar-looking device. After a moment, Punica realised it was something she had seen before in Raqi's room. She wondered then whether the sophont had brought it with her from her home at whatever time she had moved to the Rending Talon. "The child chose then to confine themselves in a place which they found safe. Far away from the jeering laughter and painful looks of others, she was free to learn and explore on her own terms. Yet, the place which she came to call home was not so much safer than the one she had left. It was filled with malicious people who wished to cause her further harm, and even there, she could not escape from those who wished to bind her." Once again, the figure grew taller. The background image remained the same, but the area around the figure began to distort, darkening in colouration. Wisps of language in a tongue Punica couldn't understand began to manifest around the computer. The text was written in a deep purple, tinged at the bottom with red, and wherever sentences manifested, the air around them began to boil and tinge with the same colour. They all slowly inched in towards the figure, and as they did, its condition began to worsen. The figure's posture became hunched, its outline grew more jagged, and their hair gained distinction only to become dishevelled and ragged. Parts of the image became stylized in a manner akin to stained glass, and portions of the figure's arms and legs were pulled outwards, as if someone had taken hold of them and forcibly dragged them beyond their normal shape. "But although those people could hurt her, they could not damage her the same way that the others had been able to. In this place, no one could reach out and strike her, and she was free to retaliate with as much ferocity as she wished. She learned how to evade even those with power in the lawless lands, and made of herself a force which no one could subdue." The sound of whistling metal cleaved through the air dozens of times in an instant, and in a flurry of motion, every one of the foreign words was sliced apart as if by a blade. A final strike took the image with it, and the figure and the background behind them rapidly faded away into nothing; the image falling back into incoherence. When it regained distinction, the display had changed entirely: The stage now took the form of a sunless red sky, covered in a layer of what seemed to be white fog or smoke, and positioned above a layer of sand and dirt beneath. A moment later, a well-worn dirt track appeared amidst the ground, and upon it a figure promptly manifested. The figure was heavily stylized as before, but this time their body consisted entirely of two pointed V-shaped legs, a large white garment that Punica interpreted as a cloak, and a head with short red feathers. After a moment of stillness, they began walking forward; their form moving slowly up and down while their legs occasionally changed position, the background scrolling along behind them. "In time, pain became familiar to her, and she learned not to let herself be crippled by it. It was here, as well, that she learned that her experience was not unique. It seemed as if everyone all around her battled with one-another constantly, finding themselves consumed by petty squabbles; born of some innate desire to seek consensus, one which was ever-present in all interactions." The perspective shifted to a close-up of the white-clad figure. Their form gained definition, and they became immediately identifiable as a woman. For the first time, the figure's face also took on detail. It took on a well-rounded and distinctly feminine shape; bearing little resemblance at all to Raqi's own face. Two deep blue eyes stared at a fixed point in the distance, and the red hair resolved into a mass of small blood-red feathers. A moment later the background changed, and the figure was suddenly stood on top of a large spider's web filled with holes; her head craned as she peered down through one of them. Down below the spiderweb at ground level, dozens upon dozens of figures clashed in violent battle; swords, axes, and maces held aloft above their heads as fire burned in the background. The dirt beneath was littered with smashed and dented suits of armour, discarded helmets broken in two and breastplates caved in by hammer strikes. Swords lay chipped apart, shattered, and blunted. Spears had their shafts broken, while the heads of axes had fallen off and been buried in the sand. The amount of space that could be seen in the background seemed to grow with every passing second, and the devastation stretched on and on into infinity. "Eventually, the woman learned how to separate herself from the weave of sociality that dominated the thoughts and behaviours of everyone around her. She learned how to walk above it, and began to look down upon those trapped inside of it. These people, she believed, were lesser than her. They could not see what it was that she saw, and they wasted their time and energy upon fruitless conflict; driven on by an instinct for unity that caused only strife." The image changed, this time much more smoothly than the previous transitions had been. The whole picture seemed to slide to the left, temporarily moving the white-clad figure to the far left side of the field, and revealing on the right a small gaggle of figures underneath the spiderweb; disengaged in the present conflict. "Yet, there were those among the battlefield who were not combatants; but rather fellow stranded souls, who knew not how to walk above the ropes the way she did. At times, the woman would venture down from her perch to speak with them. And on rare occasions, she found one among their number with whom she became companions." Punica watched as the white-clad figure leapt down through a hole in the spiderweb, bending down as she landed and then straightening back up to her full height, before walking up to the front of the group. A hand appeared out from under the white covering, and it seemed as if she and the indistinct figures began conversing. The tone of the next message was different. Up until now, Raqi's voice had seemed almost emotionless: completely dedicated to playing the role of an impartial narrator. Here, however, Punica heard a note of sadness begin to slip in. "Many of these relationships were only temporary. Of the souls that she met, most passed on from her in time; continuing along with their own journeys. Others..." There was a pause, and for a moment, the image flickered. The white-clad figure's form seemed to shift drastically; its spine curving, its torso elongating as it grew outwards and upwards into a crooked and unnatural shape, jagged metal spines bursting out in rows from its back as it towered over the group. And then it was gone. The image had lasted for only a fraction of a second; the entire transformation taking place in less than half of one. It was so fast that Punica was not sure what she had seen, or whether she had been meant to see it at all. Before she had a chance to ask, the image abruptly changed. The white-clad figure was back to normal, and stood in the centre of a field filled with yellow-ish grass; standing side-by-side with three other figures. "There were three souls, though, who did not pass her by. They stayed with her for a great length of time, and the four of them came to journey together." Suddenly, the image seemed to stabilise. All of a sudden, the blurring and the stylisation vanished, and for a brief moment, Punica was staring at four real people. The woman in white knelt down onto one knee and drew two of the figures closer; one, a male with short black feathers, and the other, a shy and androgynous looking figure with brown feathered hair that seemed reluctant for a moment to come closer. Once they had come within her arms' reach, she drew the two figures close to her and pulled them into a hug, affording one arm to each. The figure's cloak seemed to wrap around them and draw them even closer, in a way that seemed almost possessive. All three of the figures closed their eyes, their heads resting softly against each other for a moment. There was no narration for several seconds. Instead, the scene remained static; a rare moment of peace, held suspended in time. Punica's gaze travelled over the scenery. She noticed how, even now while she was bending down, the white clad figure seemed notably taller and larger in stature than the other three figures. Eventually, though, the play resumed: the white-clad figure stood up, followed by the two she had held in her embrace, and they rejoined with the third figure - the only one whom had not joined the hug - and began walking on ahead. "Years passed, and the four souls remained together. Yet, despite their company, the woman eventually found herself beginning to grow lonely. Though she cherished her three comrades dearly, there were none among them who knew how to stand tall among the muck as she did. And so over time, she came to crave that which they could not provide her." "She longed for an equal: one around whom she did not have to bear the burden at all times." The voice was starting to grow unsteady once again. This time, it was not sadness, but something else; a more distant sound, something akin to longing. "A soul who had within them the strength to shoulder all of that which weighed her down; if even just for a bit." The unearthly sound which had separated it from Raqi's normal voice up until now was rapidly vanishing. At the same time, the integrity of the image was beginning to break down. "So that she could finally..." Punica sensed what was about to happen, and she was ready for it when it did. She saw Raqi's legs give out, and a dozen vines shot out from her body and caught her in their embrace before she could so much as begin to fall. For an instant, she felt resistance: Raqi struggled momentarily, but then her body seemed to lose all tension, and she gave in and let herself fall back. Punica quickly made her way over to the other woman in order to inspect her condition. Raqi lay back at an angle upon a bed of vines; her limbs unrestrained, but seemingly almost completely limp. Her breathing was steady, but she could feel the vibrations of her heart beating faster than normal. She seemed to be present behind her eyes - her gaze was neither locked on any point nor static - but she seemed as if she were exhausted. "Straessa," Raqi murmured, voice low and listless; every word dragging out as if she were in some kind of daze. "Fix the ship..." The moment her eyes settled upon Punica, though, some of the life seemed to return to her. "O-Oh!" She breathed out, a smile forming on her face. "Uh, h-hi. Thanks for... for catching me. I, uhm... I think I overexerted myself a bit there. I didn't really realise how much energy that was taking until I felt myself starting to crash..." Her eyes blinked slowly and heavily; staying closed for much longer than they ordinarily would have. With the play concluded, Punica allowed the restraint which she had been painstakingly holding on to to finally vanish. The vines which she had used to catch and then cradle Raqi began to slide further up her arms and legs, wrapping softly around them and burrowing under the hems of her clothes; eager to find skin with which to make contact. "H- Ah!" Raqi let out a surprised gasp. She twitched in an instinctive effort to pull away from the foreign touch, but found that the vines simply moved with her. "P-Punica? What are you-" "Shh." A hand reached out to cup Raqi's chin, and the girl found herself staring into- what were those eyes? Two glowing golden orbs of light, devoid of any pupils and utterly unlike those which normally adorned Punica's humanoid form were now gazing down at her, pulsating with a soft, gentle radiance. The light which shone out from them seemed to be formed of a hundred tiny squares akin to the surface of hammered metal, each of which flickered with alternating levels of brightness as she continued to look. Raqi instantly found herself captivated, the sight taking her so thoroughly by surprise that she didn't time to even think to look away. Her own eyes naturally moved to trace the pattern, taking in the fascinating visual information as the affini's eyes shifted and changed from moment to moment. "H-huh-" A small gasp escaped from Raqi's mouth. Something in the back of her mind clenched, the instinct to tear her gaze away gradually taking shape and trying to push its way to the forefront of her mind- "Hush, little one." The hand on Raqi's cheek shifted slightly upwards, and fingers began to run through her feathers. The first touch felt like it scattered her thoughts to the wind, and the urge to look away that had been building was destroyed before it could take shape. More small noises made their way out of Raqi's form, and she found herself easing into the touch, even as a sense of anxiety continued to build inside of her. "Your display was absolutely magnificent," Punica continued, and there was something about her voice as she spoke. It felt- it felt strange, somehow- hadn't Raqi heard something like this once before? The other day when, when she'd run out of her medication- "I understood everything that you wanted to show me perfectly." The fingers kept running through her hair, and somehow, it was like they were synchronising with her words. It was like everything was; her touches, the glow in her eyes, the sound that she made- it was all forming together into one perfectly synchronous conveyance. Punica looked down at the spellbound girl before her, a smile forming upon her face. It felt so much better to get to talk properly like this. The way in which the two of them normally communicated - with an inelegant combination of clumsy words and imprecise body language - left them prone to imprecision and even worse, misunderstanding. But there could be none of that here. As Punica's form continued to encroach upon Raqi's, she began to send her intent directly through her form into the xeno's. Raqi's manipulation of sound and phenomena were impressive, but she could do so much better than that. Her little xenosophont would feel every ounce of what it was that she wanted to convey to her, as if it were emanating from inside her very own mind. "You did a wonderful job," she continued, voice oozing with approval, "and I am very proud of you." She watched with delight at the way that her words had a physical effect on Raqi. Words ceased to be words and became instead commands to alter reality itself; each syllable affecting a material change on the sophont before her. She could feel the pulse of ecstasy that ran through her petal at the word proud, and she could see the way her pupils dilated and her breathing grew ragged; the muscles in her body associated with pleasure instinctively tensing. "I have so very many questions for you. I am curious to no end about how you developed this technique, and what fascinating ways in which your mind must work; to be capable of such a thing." She felt it, then. Some sort of give in Raqi's consciousness; a yielding that had occurred as a result of the way Punica was speaking to her. Her breath caught, and her body froze; attention utterly transfixed upon the single point that was her plant. Millions of years of instinct honed and perfected by meticulous bioengineering seized on the response and pushed forwards, and Punica lowered her face closer to Raqi's. "I have never met a xenosophont who could <talk> as you do." The word she had spoken for 'talk' was in affini, but her rhythms would translate the meaning for Raqi better than the word itself ever could have, even had she been a native speaker. "I did not even think it possible for an affini and a xeno to communicate in such a clear and precise manner, unfettered by the inadequacies of language. Yet here you are, surprising me once again." Warmth. Admiration. Possessiveness. Desire. All of those emotions flowed out from Punica into Raqi, and the way the girl was responding made it seem as if she was on xenodrugs. Her heart rate had doubled or maybe tripled, she had begun breathing through her mouth in uneven and hitching gasps, and both her jaw and fingers were trembling with what Punica could sense to be the kind of terrified eagerness that xenosophonts of her disposition so frequently responded to affini advances with. The corners of her mouth twitched further up. "I would like to know very, very much more." She leaned even closer. "Everything that you have to show me, I would witness." Her mouth opened, revealing a row of teeth dripping with ichor. "All that, and mor-" The tension broke, and not in the right way.
A L E R T : : t h o u g h t f o r m s_d e t e c t e d
I D : : The Hundredth Time: Part I :: Communication ::TerraTranslate :: Raqi Marr :: Punica Granatum :: The Affini Compact :: Landamar Mobile Fleet :: Hormone Replacement Therapy :: The Chimera Module :: Affini :: Intersidera :: Posters :: Magnesium :: Wonderland ::