It Takes Time <To Be Properly Taken Apart> - Chapter 36

Chapter 36

Chapter Length: 9,200~ words

Our Story

What would it take in order to communicate such a thing? Prose alone would not do. Structures, rigid things that they are, were not meant to contain the detail and complexity of raw thought. To accurately convey such dense information, another medium would be required; one less bound by the expectations of traditional storytelling.

A white-cloaked figure is alone in a limitless, expanseless void. There is nothing around her for as far as she can see, and she can sense that there is nothing beyond there either. This is the world which she exists in. The world which she hates, and despises, and is intent on finding a way to escape from.

There is a feeling; the world around her shifting, morphing. A glass ceiling appears under her feet; impenetrable and impossible to fall through, but able to be seen through. Below it is a city; vast and expansive, filled with the hustle and bustle of daily life. It is loud and noisy and dotted with lights, and it fills her with a sense of befuddlement. It is here where everyone else's story takes place.

There must be somewhere else which exists, other than here.
I'm certain that if I look, I'll be able to find it.

I need to be with them.

The world underneath the glass is a strange one. She can visit it for short periods of time, but it never sits quite right with her. For every second that she is there, she senses an illness in the air; a sort of pervasive sickness, which no one else seems quite aware of. She notices it in the eyes and the voices of everyone she speaks to, but even when she holds a mirror to them or shows them a recording of their own voices, they do not recognise it. Marya... The white-cloaked figure stands inside of an apartment, viewed from the side. She is face-to-face with another landamaeri; a brown-haired woman a full head shorter than hear, wearing a cap and a long coat.

ellagitannian - Intersidera

Raqi Marr

Do you not understand that every ill which has befallen you is not your own fault?
You have done everything that could be reasonably expected to try and improve your situation,
and there is not a speck of guilt which lies with you for the pain in which you currently exist. She's not going to listen.

ellagitannian

<words, impossible to remember; distant, numb refutation>
<she never accepts whatever I have to tell her; too insistent upon her own failings>
<she is tied inexorably to her perception of herself as a failure; as inadequate>
<she despises her mind and body for their inability to live up to fleetist standards>
<bemoaning her attention disorder because she cannot find it in herself to work ten hours a day upon medical studies>
<and claiming that life has no meaning, when one requires medication to operate properly>
<she rejects outright the concept of free will, for to have choice and agency would place her at fault for her wretched situation>
<she wishes to strip herself of every quality and characteristic that makes her so wonderful, in order to be more like her torturers>

It fills me with such inconsolable grief, and such bright, burning rage. I can not let this stand.

"I must find the ones responsible for this, and hurt them as they have hurt my dear Marya."

Yet even as I think it, I know that I cannot do so. I bear no strength whatsoever outside of my own mind. If strength of will could influence the real world, then I would tear Fleetsec apart, and rend them and Fleetgov and every other ch'ikan institution to pieces. But it does not, and so I can not. I am only strong in heart, and only powerful in mind, and so I must find a way to work within these bounds. If I cannot have justice for Marya, then I can at the very least alleviate her pain. She is stubborn beyond measure, and no matter what I say to her, it feels at times as if she will not listen to me. Yet she is not entirely without ears; I know therefore that if I am patient, and if I can accrue enough information, she will in time be made to listen to reason. Therefore, my part for her must be to show her what our people are truly like. As her only example of a world outside of that made by the ch'ikan, I must demonstrate to her what kind of a life would be possible if we were not forced to exist under their yoke. If she sees the way I shine brightly, then she will have no choice but to question the insidious lies which they have poisoned her with, and in time, she will find her way to the truth.

That was what I told myself, at least...

In the end, my promise was utterly inadequate. I have been trying for ten years, and I have barely been able to convince her of anything at all. She remains mired in the swamp of their words, and though I extend my hand to try and pull her out, the voices in her mind tell her not to reach for it. I can do nothing, so long as she will not accept my help. Yet still, I do not give up. I have waited, and I will continue to wait. I have seen small flickers, signs that hope is not lost. In recent years, she has come to appreciate the beauty of the great works created by those of our neurotype: those projects which can barely be said to have a practical use, but have had a lifetime of effort placed into them. Games which one could scarcely imagine more than a handful of individuals wishing to play, but that have complexity rivaled by what any corporation could put together; created by one lone soul. Stories that explore concepts so alien and incomprehensible to the ordinary mind that they would not catch so much as a glance from a publisher; yet which have had more heart and soul poured into them than anything made to find popular acclaim. I have taken to collecting illustrations of exotic clothes during her long absences. When she returns, I delight in showing them to her; hoping that through them, I can kindle some spark of hope that the world beyond her immediate surroundings is not so terrible.

The world that we reside within in does not have any of these things. It does not have ch'ikan, or the ruinous poison which they fill yuyayni's heads with. Instead, it has emptiness; a vast, boundless thing, that gradually saps away the strength and sanity of anyone who remains within it. It is in its own way an even worse atmospheric poison, but we have found ways to endure it. We have learned that the more strength that we covet, the longer we can resist its effects. Having become aware of this, we would go on to become so terribly strong; both in order to survive, and to keep plumbing the great expanse's depths for yet more secrets. It was necessary for us to do so, so that we could gain the form we required to help others. Who was it, that was worst affected by a lack of light? Ah, I know...

We cannot quite stand beside them. Our world, after all, is not theirs.
But we can at times traverse through the glass panel. We can make our way down,
and for a brief moment, speak to and keep them company;
though our hands may never touch.

How lonely it is, to stand like this...

I stand in my room within the Rending Talon, facing off with Vasco. The sight of his chipper smile and mischievous eyes should have filled me with delight, but instead, I feel only sadness. "You are so many years older than me, Vasco. You were an adult when I was still a child- and yet, somehow, I have lived so much more than you." My brow creases at the middle, and my voice wavers. "Why? It should not be this way. In the entire time I have known you, you have proceeded down the path that others set before you; questioning, but never willing to step off of it. You have been so very unhappy, but you have not known what else to do with yourself." It makes me so terribly sad. I hate it so much; seeing the way that he struggles against his circumstances, but does not know what to do to fix them. I knew of his ailment; I had always known, but I had said nothing. He was not like the others; I never had the leverage I needed to feel comfortable putting pressure on him. So I simply watched as he continued to molder, guilt slowly eating at my heart from the knowledge that I could have done something, but did not. When I did finally find the strength to act, I could only feel as if I was doing so half a decade too late. "I have seen the things which you have drawn, and which you have made. You are incredibly creative, and more talented with a pen than anyone I have ever known. But in all the time I have known you, you have never once taken up a long-term project with it; limiting yourself to only sketches and doodles." Why was it that in all those years, he never once found something that gripped him? "When I ask you what you want from life, you shrug and tell me that you do not know. When I ask you why you do things, you intellectualize; but it is clear to me that you lack any true understanding. At your core, you act because you are eaten away by anxiety, and you have never known anything other than the unceasing struggle to overcome it." We tell him as much, but will he be able to act upon it? Or will the chains of tolerable discomfort continue to hold him in place? It was such a despicable waste. How much would he have been capable of, I wondered, if he could simply learn to untangle himself from the expectations of others and start to forge his own path? A third through his life, and he had never stopped to consider what the point of living actually was.

I couldn't continue to stand there and do nothing.

I would have to teach him. There was no one else who could do it, and it would gnaw at my soul to let him grow old without ever finding purpose or meaning. Of everyone I had met, it was perhaps true that he was the only one who had directly frightened me. I had long lived with anxiety at the thought of finding myself living a life bereft of meaning, such as those which the ch'ikan pursued; ones of which the primary goals were to accrue wealth, social status, prestigious employment, and material objects- all things which faded to nothing after one passed away. There was little I feared more than to dedicate my life to the pursuit of such ephemeral and unfounded joys, and to see a friend of mine at the risk of suffering such a fate filled me with unbearable anxiety. In the end, I knew I would do whatever it took to help him avoid such an outcome. I struggled so much to relate to a life where one's problems were only discomforting; not life-threatening. I could at first not understand why he would not move: did he not know what end was awaiting him? Did terror not nip at his heels during every waking moment, as it did mine? I eventually came to understand that it did, but that it was a very different kind of terror. Where my fear inspired action, his inspired stillness. From then, I realised what it was that I had to do: I needed to convince him that staying still was the only path that lead to certain demise. Surely, if he understood that, I could convince him to move.

What Vasco was missing and Marya could scarcely find time to explore- I, on the other hand, was suffused with. I struggled to define it in words; its existence was instead felt as a presence at the outermost corner of my mind; a tactile sensation that never seemed to disappear, and could be found at a moment's notice if I looked for it. It was every colour all at once. It flickered and shifted, amorphous and shapeless; but you could not stop looking at it out of the hope that it might at one moment become solid. It was every positive emotion; every sense of bewitching beauty that you had ever witnessed, every sight that had ever captivated you. It was the delight one felt when they ran their fingers through the hair of a trusted partner; when they glanced upon a natural vista that took their breath away; or when they heard music that coursed through their soul and touched them. I could never quite make contact with the feeling, however. For reasons that I didn't understand, whenever I reached out to touch it, it was as if my fingers went right through it. But nonetheless, I could still fill myself up with it; and it was at those times which I became Rukhmar the Firebird. But it was so, so much to be filled with; it made my heart ache with a yearning to share at all times. It bit at me like an itch with teeth, and I could never sit still while I felt it gnawing at my chest. Every time it took a hold of me, I had to do something; had to act, to find a way to share it with others. Just once or twice, I managed it, and I can still remember how wonderful it was...

I wanted them to be filled with that feeling all of the time; just as I was. It was what gave me purpose, what inured me against the tedium, pointlessness and pain of life in the Mobile Fleet. If I could just spread it to them, then I was sure that they, too, would be alright. Ah- I say 'wanted', but I suppose I should be saying 'want.' Everything always feels past tense to me, for some reason, and I find that I often slip into it without realising.

For my part, however?
What was it that I wanted?

Light and life.

Soft, light strokes; the warmth, love, and affection I felt in my chest at that moment. I couldn't imagine anything that could make me happier.

Flames, cascading down the skin; light, flickering tongues of heat and warmth.

The faint golden light that had rained down upon them, and the warmth and affection we had all shared together.
There had not been a single soul who had ever seen it and not cried.
It is a marvelous thing, to possess such an ability. It is unquestionably a sacred art.

It only makes sense that I would,
what with how my head is always stuck in the past.

That was the issue, wasn't it? The fact that there was a time before I became Rukhmar the Firebird, and that there are still times when I am not. The ordeals which I had to overcome to acquire this form left wounds in my soul; pieces of myself that I lost along the way. Pieces of my humanity. It was not simple to create Rukhmar the Firebird. The process of doing so was deeply unnatural on many levels, and required me to learn to behave in ways not at all intuitive for a landamaeri. The form itself could be said to be an inversion of Straessa's sword: focusing on the creation of emotions, rather than the nullification of them. Yet nullification is indeed a central part of it, because to be Rukhmar is to be unaffected by pain the likes of which would cripple other sophonts. It was necessary for us to develop the strength to stand against tremendous agony in order to shoulder the burdens of others; but mere strength alone is not sufficient to endure pain indefinitely. To do that, it was necessary to focus on alleviating the discomfort at the source; to learn not to feel it.

That was our greatest, and most fatal mistake.
The moment at which we unknowingly took
a step down a truly wretched path,
one which would condemn us to harm far,
far more than we would ever heal.

Certain things cannot be acquired without sacrifice. There is no question in my mind that the sacrifices required to create Rukhmar the Firebird were not worth it, but we made them nonetheless; and now, they haunt us every day that we continue living. In our slow journey to cease feeling pain, we inflicted unimaginable amounts of it upon others- primarily through ignorance, but at times intentionally. We needed to feel discomfort in order to examine it; for we could not find ways to detach ourselves from it if we did not first experience it. And so we placed ourselves in the furnace again and again, subjecting ourselves to experiences that would have destroyed others without any real urge to avoid them. Each time we did so, we thought only of the fact that we ourselves would certainly endure it. We never stopped to think of the impact that it would have on the other person, and how they were not durable the way we were. In time, we ceased to be at all afraid of conflict; no longer taking any sort of avoiding action to try and prevent it from happening, because we knew we would survive it largely unscathed. But the same could not be said for others, and so without even realising what we were doing, we began to harm them over and over again in our attempts to grow.

Charyllis - Intersidera

Raqi Marr

Why do you refuse to help me?
I've told you exactly what it is that I want from you!
So why aren't you giving me it?
Why won't you help me, if I'm in pain? Why are you leaving me to suffer like this?
Is it because you hate me? Because you want me to suffer like this?
Or are you simply so inept and useless that you genuinely don't know any better?!

Charyllis

Is that the decision you have made?
Very well. Then in that case, I will lay you to waste, as you deserve!

I cannot stand this... I cannot keep going like this.
Won't somebody please, please help me?

pain; anger; fury; the swinging of a sword
the desire to hurt; to inflict pain

I can scarcely believe that 'people' like you exist.
Without empathy, you have no right to personhood!

It hurts so much. I just want someone to hold me.
Please, why won't you tell me it will be alright?

bitterness; vengefulness; twisting and wrenching
raising the arm and bringing it down; again; again; again; again; again;

Why did I even waste my time on you? I should never
have made the mistake of treating you like a friend.

The pain is too much- I'm going to go insane. I already
am insane. I can't stop myself. Please, somebody-

Then, the red mist clears, and...

I awoke, just as I did every time, to realise that the cause of my anger had been imagined; and the wounds I had inflicted were unjustified. I am so sorry, Charyl. I will always be sorry. I know that you have already forgiven me, but nonetheless... It was neither the first, nor the last time; simply one in a long line of such misdeeds. They would grow less frequent in the years to come after that particular one, but only because I isolated myself from others; deciding that it would be better to stay away from them than to risk subjecting them to harm at my hands. Yet even in this time, there were those who remained with me; intent on staying by my side in spite of full knowledge of what I was and how I behaved. To this day, I do not know why they did so back then- though I will not insult them by saying that I do not understand why they still do in the present. Regardless, the result was predictable.

The memory that I hate the most... The one thing I will never forgive myself for saying.

Charyllis - Intersidera

Raqi Marr

I like you, Locke, but it's not like being friends with you and the others is exactly fulfilling
You're better than nothing, sure
But the moment I actually find some people in real life, I'm leaving all of you behind without hesitating
None of you are actually good friends; you're all just placeholders for the time while I wait to find someone I actually like

Locke

...I see...

For just a moment, the memory wavered. The illusion that Rukhmar had constructed flickered, and Punica temporarily regained her perspective. In that instant, she saw the girl gripping her head with one hand, bent half-way over, nails digging into flesh. Her other hand clutched at the skin over her heart, fingers digging in with all their force; as if attempting to pull it out.

Straessa should have succeeded. I should have stayed down and let her kill me-

The heaving weight of a thousand tonnes of guilt; the urge to be brought to justice for one's crimes. I asked them all, again and again, if they thought I ought to be punished for what I had done; and they all said no. For all that I believed, and still at times do believe, that I ought to be put to death... The figure stands back up, raising her head and lowering her hands. She shivers for a moment, but the pain is gone, and her mind is her own once again. ...I understand that no one, save for myself, desires it. That for all I have done wrong, to pass from this world would be to leave it a worse place than it is now; and to leave half a dozen souls without comfort nor protection in this bleak and lightless world. She straightens her spine further, little wisps of flame flickering in the air around her. She turns to face you. When I was a child, I wished that someone would come to save me; to take me away from all the hurt and pain, and all the terrifying things that I did not feel as if I was strong enough to overcome. I spent so many years dreaming of such events; only to inevitably awaken each morning to find that it was nothing more than an illusion. When I grew up, I came to understand that such things did not really happen; that they could occur only within the realm of stories and fairytales. I hated that fact. More than anything, because it made existence disappointing. It robbed me of my hope for something magical; something that could take the mundane cruelty away from the universe. There was nothing I could do about it for myself, but that was not true of others. If that person did not exist, then I would take it upon myself to become them; so that no one who I cared for would ever have to experience the same disappointment that I did. That is why I am Rukhmar the Firebird. That is why I must hold within myself the strength to shoulder agony and grief; for only then can I be the person that we all dreamed of as children.

Yet, even as I say it, I know that it is not true I am not Rukhmar the Firebird I do not have wings which can shoulder any burden, or claws that can strike down any foe I can not bring happiness to my loved ones who suffer all on my own, for I am only one woman And so, ultimately-

-it is still a dream. I am not truly Rukhmar the Firebird. Because every time I tried to shoulder the entire burden on my own, it crushed me under its weight. . . . And eventually, I realised that there was no amount of strength sufficient to care for everyone all on my own. That no matter how much strength I coveted, it would never, ever, be enough. The world began to fade away into inky blackness, and the white-cloaked figure fell to one knee; overtaken by exhaustion. She was so tired, and she lacked the energy to fight any more. That, therefore, is why I travelled here, to the Affini Compact. I came here... in search of someone who would help me to share a burden which I could not carry on my own. In spite of everything, of all of my failures, it is still my heartfelt wish to be that person for my friends. But I cannot do so alone. Therefore, I beseech you: Help me. Please. Help... And then she collapsed.

Punica felt Rukhmar's hold on their shared space dissipating, and a moment later, they were back in the garden again. The moment after they arrived there, the Firebird fell heavily onto one knee, body shaking for a moment with the force of the impact. Before she could fall any further, a vine had shot out and wrapped around her torso to support her; curling tightly around her and functioning as a brace for her to put her weight onto. "Ah... Thank you." The girl's voice sounded empty and tired, reminiscent of a fire that had burnt down to only ashes. "I could hold on for no longer." "Raqi- Rukhmar, you..." Another vine shot out to join the first one. Punica was yet to get used to existing again, and she was struggling to find the words she wanted. "Please, do not. You do not need to-" Words. Words, words, words, words. She hated language. Fortunately, she remembered a moment later that she didn't need to limit herself to it, and sent a weak pulse of /acceptance-comforting-reassuring/ to the girl. To her relief, she seemed to get the message, and nodded weakly in acknowledgement. She didn't know what to do. It wasn't going to be a quick process, collecting her thoughts and figuring out what to make of everything she had just seen. But there was one thing Punica knew she needed to do first: "Rukhmar," she stated, embedding her words with strong /Commanding/ intent, "you can remember everything leading up to this point perfectly, and all blocks on your mind are lifted." The Firebird's eyes widened, and for a moment, a bit of Raqi peaked through. "Oh, shit- What the fuck? You- you can just fuck with my memory like that, without even giving me class-H's? How the hell is that possible?" "It is entirely thanks to your own skills," Punica replied. She would've wanted her tone to sound more appreciative, but again, she could barely get her voice in order right now. "Normally I would not be able to, but you are such an exceptionally suggestible sophont that I needed nothing more than conventional hypnosis to briefly lock away some of your memories." It was a strange sight indeed, watching the embodiment of Raqi's self-confidence and belief in herself blush. "Fuck, that's, uh... I've always wanted to be able to do memory play, but I could never get it down before now. I guess it's a lot easier when your hypnotist is an affini... Anyway, that aside-" She cleared her throat loudly, and Punica could sense her trying to pull herself together in order to return to her alternate form. "I have shown you indisputable evidence that I have harmed sophonts in the past, and that I still pose a threat to their wellbeing in my present state." She took in a breath before continuing. "Knowing that, what will you do with me?" Punica fixed her gaze upon Rukhmar, assessing the other sophont. For all that she was trying to project confidence, the affini could feel the nervousness bubbling up underneath. She was, once again, incredibly frightened that Punica was about to forcibly domesticate her. That is what this always comes down to for her, isn't it? And I understand why, now. She sees forced domestication as a punishment, and she believes that her behaviour warrants it. Part of her wants me to punish her for her misdeeds, but another is terrified of what that punishment would entail. Her vines shifted slowly. This is the real reason why she is not running away. The former half keeps her within my presence, but its control is not strong enough to override the latter half's terror; and so the friction created by the two results in... in all of this. It also explained why the girl seemed so set on intentionally painting herself in a bad light. If Rukhmar was trying to avoid domestication, then it made no sense whatsoever to reveal any of the things she had just shown to her. A part of her is trying to convince me to do it. It is not just that she is not avoiding it; she is actively trying to goad me into doing it. Her eyes narrowed even further, as she realised something. She cannot stand the anxiety. The not knowing whether some new piece of information will change the balance between us, and tip her back into requiring domestication. ...That was what she said to me back then, as well. She would rather just get it out of the way with, than have to live with the suspense... It was then that she realised that this was just going to keep happening forever. So long as she did not either domesticate Raqi, or promise outright that she wasn't going to do it no matter what, the girl was going to remain terrified of it. She looked in Raqi's eyes for confirmation, and the trepidation and small-animal fear which she saw there made it clear as day to her. For a moment, she thought that she would have to spend hours or perhaps even days making a decision again. For her part, she had been agonising over whether Raqi truly necessitated domestication ever since the two of them had met. It was her responsibility as an affini to correctly ascertain a sophont's needs, and the challenge of doing that with this particular xenosophont had proven almost as stressful for her as it had been for Raqi to be subjected to it. But this time, she realised, there was nothing to think about. She already had all of the information that she needed in order to make a decision; because now, she had seen everything for herself. No, not just seen it: she had lived it, as if it had been her that had experienced all of it. Everything Rukhmar had shown her had felt as if she had seen it through her own vines, utterly indistinct from her very own experiences. She had comprehended perfectly every emotion that had run through the girl at every part of her second play, and with that knowledge, there was nothing more she needed to know. She turned and regarded Rukhmar levelly. "Our activities today have given me the information I require in order to make a final, conclusive judgement on the necessity of forcible domestication in your case." She watched the sophont's breath catch and her eyes widen momentarily at the word 'conclusive.' Then, her posture hardened, and she met Punica's gaze with faux determination; putting her all into making one final attempt to try and appear strong. "Arguably the most important criteria for whether a troubled sophont warrants forcible domestication," Punica continued, "is whether or not they are able to both seek, and accept help." She paused for a moment, and pulled herself up to her full height. "The following judgement applies to both Raqi Marr the Simurgh, and Rukhmar the Firebird. The two of you have conclusively demonstrated, in every action that you each have taken since I have met you, that you are both capable of these two things. And as such, I judge you to not be in need of forceful domestication." The girl froze. Her body went completely still, and Punica could feel the surprise radiate off of her like a shockwave. At the same time, her presence shifted completely; the imposing aura of Rukhmar the Firebird giving way to the much-more-easily-shocked Raqi Marr. "Wh- what? H- How?" Punica gently raised a hand, a smile forming upon her face. "You said it yourself, that this was your entire reason for coming to the Affini Compact: to seek help. You succeeded at performing the incredibly difficult task of both realising, and accepting that you were not able to overcome the challenges you were faced with by yourself; and so took action to seek out assistance. That definitionally satisfies both of these criteria." "But-" Raqi finally unfroze, but she had shifted to looking completely baffled. "My definition of 'asking for help' involved attacking affini ships and freezing you in an iceblock! I've done virtually nothing since we met except try to avoid domestication! How is that not feralism?!" Punica's smile only widened. "Disabling vessels is an unusual way of asking for assistance, certainly; but it does make for a rather effective cry for help. Which, I presume, was your intention all along with the gesture?" Bafflement gave way to stunned silence. "...In large part, yeah. When I first arrived at the Compact, I didn't think there was any chance that the affini would just listen to me if I asked them to help me in the way I wanted. I figured the moment I told them what I just got done telling you, they'd domesticate me in a heartbeat." She turned her gaze downwards. "So, my first thought was that I needed leverage. I thought that if I could make myself enough of a nuisance, but avoided directly harming anyone while doing so, they might look at it and realise that I was doing it to try and talk to them. And I hoped that maybe it'd make them curious, and... I don't know, that either they'd be more likely to listen to me, or that I could blackmail them by only stopping if they promised not to domesticate me..." Punica's smile abruptly vanished. As Raqi watched, her expression went through several increasingly severe levels of disbelief. "Ho- Hold on one moment. You- You thought that you were going to blackmail the Compact?" A hint of nervousness seeped into the xenosophont's demeanour. "Uh. Y- Yeah?" There was a second of silence, and then Punica burst into raucous laughter. Her flowers bloomed, and her vines began spinning around in circles; her chest heaving as the most delightful sound Raqi had ever heard emanated out from her core. "By the Everbloom! That is the single worst idea I have ever heard!" Raqi's mouth fell open. Her jaw quivered, and she sounded like she wanted to object- but Punica just kept on laughing. So great was the affini's amusement that parts of her humanoid form came apart, and for a few moments, Raqi could see bits of her core peeking out; as well as the hidden reservoirs of xenodrugs and dozens of injector needles that she usually kept well concealed. The sight was enough to remind Raqi that, perhaps the plant had good reason to be laughing, and she slowly gave up on trying to think of a comeback. Eventually, after a full quarter-minute had passed, Punica's mirth finally began to die down. She pulled her body back together, and wiped the stray bits of pollen that had been scattered from her flowers off of her petals. Finally, still grinning like a hawk, she turned to address Raqi: "Surely you did not truly believe that you could ever have achieved actual leverage over the Compact, Raqi? While you were certainly succeeding at being somewhat disruptive, that was only ever because you were being allowed to do so. Had whoever it was in the bureaucracy that was assigned to your case not concluded that you were harmless and chosen to continue entertaining you, then we could just have sent a feral pacification vessel to every single sector within a thousand lightyears of your last location. Then, no matter where you next jumped to, one of our ships would have been there waiting for you, and you would have had no way to escape." Raqi's lips slowly furled into a deep pout, her cheeks turning bright red as she once again broke eye contact with Punica. "I... To be honest, yes; it did strike me as a little bit odd that you didn't just do that. I'm not one of those feral Terrans that has a hard time wrapping their head around the scale of the Compact; I figured it should have been really easy for you to stop me at any time, if you were serious about it. That was why I was so worried when I accidentally kidnapped you; I thought the other affini might think I'd done it on purpose to hurt or kill you, and then start treating me like an actual feral, rather than, uh, a very high effort brat." "Considering the culture that you are from, I am surprised you could even conceive of a plan like this being successful." Punica's grin softened but remained present, a hint of curiosity working its way into her voice. "What made you believe that we, unlike those of your own species, would be able to understand your attempts to communicate?" At this, Raqi's expression grew pensive. "Well, that's the thing; you're not landamaeris. If you were, there is a zero percent chance this would have worked. But the entire thing is, the affini aren't stupid the way we are. Culturally, we always assume malice or hostility whenever anyone does something we don't like, and we don't stop to check for deeper explanations- but I knew that the affini wouldn't be like that. You guys are the exact opposite; you're used to looking at people doing fucked up shit and going 'why are they doing that?'." She raised one hand before continuing. "As a whole, you're predisposed not to take the obvious answer of 'oh I guess this or that sophont must be trying to fuck me over or must just suck.' If we presume therefore that you were always guaranteed to look beyond the surface at why I was doing this, then I figured it really wasn't that difficult to put the fact that I was attacking ships together with my going out of my way not to inflict casualties. I didn't think that you would be able to figure out the reason why I was doing it from that alone, but I did think it'd be enough to show that I wasn't just, like, trying to be a shithead; and that I clearly had something in mind with my actions. Which I figured would make you curious, and hopefully convince you not to just throw your entire fleet at me. And, uh-" She turned the other hand upwards, and broke out into an awkward grin. "I guess it worked!" Punica's smile widened once more, and she slowly shook her head. "If someone had told me back when I was on the Longbough that a xenosophont would one day conceive of a plan this contrary to conventional wisdom, I would never have believed them. But having now seen the way that you think first-hand... In all honesty, it does not even feel that hard to believe any more." Raqi immediately began beaming at her. "Right?! It's very me!" The affini let out another laugh; this one far softer. "Indeed. It is very, very you." Raqi's heart soared. She couldn't even have tried to enter her form as Rukhmar while feeling such intense, guardbreaking affection. All thought of standing up to Punica had long since vanished, and her last sentence had wormed its way directly into Raqi's core and brushed lovingly over it; filling her with a heady sense of warmth and validation that left her almost dizzy. She hadn't yet consciously registered it, but now that she had a guarantee of her safety, she no longer had a reason to try and hold Punica at a distance, and her mind had already begun lowering the barriers it had raised towards the affini. So it was that within seconds of continuing to stare into the plant's dazzling eyes, affection and a desire for further validation quickly began to morph into arousal, and a need for not just validation, but praise. This entire time, she had been trying so, so hard to keep her distance from Punica, because of her fear of what might happen if she didn't. But now that she knew for sure that the affini did not plan on domesticating her, the structural supports constructed from anxiety and paranoia that she had been using to prop up her resilience all gave way at once. The barriers she had worked so hard to erect fell like stone walls before hypermetric artillery, and Raqi found herself slipping into a state that she had refused to allow herself until now: one of open, unabashed desire. "I..." Her throat suddenly felt dry, but it wasn't going to be enough to stop her from talking. For all that the thought of the words she was about to speak still frightened her immensely, it was no longer enough to suppress the desire that she felt. "I w-want you to... C-can you play with me, please?" Punica's vines froze, as it felt like some invisible force in the atmosphere had suddenly shifted. She spent a fraction of a second doubting the words she had heard, wondering if perhaps there might have been some other meaning to the phrase that she was not familiar with- but the look she saw in Raqi's eyes erased all doubt. The anxious, needy timidity with which the girl was staring up at her- every trace of the proud Firebird from mere moments ago having completely vanished- made the nature of her request unmistakable. Slowly, the plant's vines started to thaw. "I can, yes." Her own voice was shaking, just a little bit. "What, in specific, did you have in mind for me to do with you?" It was a necessary question to pose, as much as she didn't wish to interrupt the moment with it. There were a great deal of different kinds of play, and it was important that she know which one Raqi was looking for- "I want you to touch me." The girl's voice was barely louder than a whisper, but it sent pulses of sensation through Punica's body that felt like nothing the affini had ever experienced before. She felt her rhythms lurch, the pulsing of her core growing twice, then thrice as fast; as all of a sudden her injectors felt tight and uncomfortable against the vines of her arm. Thorns started to emerge from her body despite how hard she tried to keep them hidden, and purple ichor pooled in toxin glands inside of her mouth. "Please, Punica." She could feel the girl's heart beating faster with each word that she spoke. "I- I've been thinking about this for ages, and I-" A vine shot out and wrapped around the back of Raqi's head. It was nothing short of a miracle that it was the only one of Punica's appendages that moved. "And you will have it, petal," she spoke, her voice vibrating with the effort required to keep it steady, "but I need you to wait just a little longer first." The words burned like solar fire in her vocal apparatus as she spoke them. It felt wrong on the deepest, most primal level to deny a sophont in need like she was doing, but obliging Raqi at this moment would have disastrous consequences. "If I were to touch you in- in the way that I believe you are suggesting I do- I do not believe that I could hold my rhythms apart during the process." The lack of self-control implied by her words was underscored when Punica's tongue flicked out to lick off a drop of purple liquid that had rolled a short way down the side of her mouth while she was speaking. "As you are right now, the release of bonding hormones from an or- from me touching you would combine with the conditioning effect of my biorhythms, to cause what would likely be complete, irreversible infatuation." Several of her injectors twitched in time with her last two words. "In essence," she said, foregoing the illusion of humanity for a moment and simply speaking with a closed mouth, so as to avoid any more toxins spilling out, "what you are proposing would, I think, domesticate you on the spot. Which would not be ideal, given what we have just discussed." There were several assumptions in what she had just said based off of the external similarities between landamaeri and Terran biology, but from how she saw Raqi's face turn several shades redder, she assumed them to be correct. Raqi, for her part, was too far gone to even make a token attempt at denying that the kind of touching Punica was hinting at was what she wanted. The plant's words had also completely failed to have their intended effect of tempering her desire, and in fact, had done the complete opposite. The part of Raqi's brain that had spent over a decade fantasizing about becoming 'irreversibly infatuated' now had her staring at Punica like a newborn fawn, and seriously considering just asking her to proceed anyway. "I- I know that but, but I-" She kept blinking, barely able to string words together for the feeling of her pulse beating in her ears. "I- I- I want-" Her restraint broke. "I need this-" "I know you do!" The vine around the back of the girl's head squeezed tighter, in what was both comfort, and desperation from Punica to convince the xenosophont to stop begging before she completely lost herself. "And I promise that I will give it to you, flower- but- but you must wait." She was once again having to bind her injectors up with other, smaller vines to stop them from escaping from her arm. "I will not do this to you if I cannot be ensured of your safety in the process!" Her expression wavered, caught up somewhere between genuine remorse and an apologetic smile that made her look as if she were suffering a stroke. "Forgive me, Raqi; but I refuse to throw away everything that you argued so vehemently for just a moment ago for the sake of one impulse." The worst part was she knew that, if she did, Raqi would forgive her for it. She wouldn't be capable of not doing so. But Punica would not be able to forgive herself for it. Finally, though, her words seemed to make it through to the landamaeri. Raqi seemed to snap at least partially out of the haze of desire, as some degree of acknowledgement appeared on her face, and a moment later, she nodded. Rendered even more acutely sensitive to the discomfort and disappointment now radiating off of Raqi, and not wanting to let it last for a single moment longer than necessary, Punica swiftly continued speaking: "Fortunately, I believe that what we have done today has presented me with a possible solution to the problem of biorhythmic entrainment. All I would need to do in order to make it safe for me to play with you is to ensure that you can resist my rhythm well enough to not lose yourself in being conditioned by it. The easiest way to do that would be to reduce your suggestibility, which is what class C-1 bonding inhibitors are normally used for, but I do not possess any compound with such an effect; and frankly, I do not think that is a solution which would be acceptable to either of us." Raqi rapidly shook her head. "No way. I've spent years turning my brain to mush; being a sponge is one of the skills I'm the most proud of, and I am not giving that up." The plant nodded, having expected as much. "I thought you would say that. I likewise do not want to alter that part of you whatsoever, and so I had concluded already that another method would be required. It occurs to me now, however, that I might have been looking in entirely the wrong place." She fixed her gaze upon raqi's eyes. "Rather than trying to make you less suggestible, I can simply make use of the fact that you are already hypersuggestible to stop you from being influenced further." The landamaeri's brow furrowed. "That... sounds extremely counterintuitive." Her eyes then flicked diagonally upwards for a moment. "Oh, wait- wait, no, no, hold on-" And then they widened. "Oh, shit! Something like an anti-dropping bracelet! I've done stuff like this before! Not exactly the same thing, but the same general concept- giving someone a suggestion to stop being suggestible!" "Yes!" Punica's voice filled with excitement. "The idea first occurred to me when you were describing the mental architecture you and Straessa had created. I was not convinced that it would work, as it would require a truly incredible degree of skill with accepting suggestions to resist the conditioning caused by a biorhythm, but now that I know what you are capable of, I can believe it would work." Her vines had started thrashing excitedly once again. "My idea was to create some sort of symbolic representation in your mindscape to serve as a barrier against my influence, and that would prevent certain parts of your most inner self from being modified. It would not block it out entirely- such a thing is likely still beyond even your considerable ability- but we could designate certain behaviours and thoughts as 'protected', and take steps to ensure that the current independent parts of your personality are maintained." "Holy shit that sounds cool as fuck." Raqi's own lips were curling up with glee now; her voice filling with excitement as she began waving her fingers unconsciously. "I think that should be completely possible? That's actually not dissimilar to how Rukhmar works for me; she's basically a set of personality traits and behaviours that I can step in and out of at any time. This sounds a bit more static than that, and uh, I also don't actually know if I can self-suggest well enough to create something with an effect that powerful, but-" "You need not worry about the last part," Punica interrupted. "You will not be constructing this piece of architecture yourself." Raqi's excited motions abruptly stilled. "I won't?" "No. For all that you are very internally suggestible, you seem to be much more experienced at accepting external commands than internal ones. Therefore, it will be much more efficient if I do it for you." A full-body shiver ran down Raqi's spine. "W-wait, what exactly are you pla-" In the real world, with Raqi's head still pressed against her core, Punica stopped matching her rhythms to the xenosophont's own. Instead, she focused all of her will towards Raqi, and sent out a pulse of intent. Instantly, Raqi's hold upon her mind disintegrated. The garden vanished before her eyes, and her own thoughts- her own perception- were all swept up in a landslide; taken away from her alongside all control she held over her own senses. An impossibly strong presence reached out and forced itself upon and around her attention, restraints of corded steel fastening tight around every corner of her awareness. All of a sudden, every facet of control she had, no matter how large or minute, was gone. She could not even exist without permission to do so. She had no agency in what was happening to her; not even the autonomy to decide how she felt about it. She was reduced to an inanimate object that saw whatever it was told to see, and what she was told to see was-

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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 : : Conflict ::

Show list of previous thoughtforms

Book 2

withering away :: The Prism System :: Intoxicants :: Plurality :: please believe me :: Landamaeri Domestication Guide :: Hypnotic Centres :: The Domestication Initiative :: Affini Maturity :: bullying :: Memory Maker :: chronic fatigue syndrome :: Uplifting :: lingo :: optimisation :: Digitisation :: Iterations of the Self ::

Book 1

TerraTranslate :: Raqi Marr :: Punica Granatum :: The Affini Compact :: Landamar Mobile Fleet :: Hormone Replacement Therapy :: The Chimera Module :: Affini :: Intersidera :: Posters :: Magnesium :: Wonderland :: The Hundredth Time: Part I :: Communication :: aftermath :: Physical Confrontation :: Garments :: Interspecies Comparisons :: Touch :: Equality :: Hypnokink :: Speaking :: ahftrojn,lpijmnhfkg :: Pretheya :: Magic :: scared :: Materas Marr ::

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