thusia | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Who: Slick
When: Day 51, Morning
Where: Baths!
What: murder! and i guess bathing

[idk what YOU are doing, but slick has gotten tired of being holed up and has headed downstairs to clear the baths of any renegade bathmonkeys so that he can then enjoy himself in a warm hotspring

he is still at the part where here is trying to stab the suckers though]

How could there even be this many...

[FEEL FREE TO USE AS SLICK POST OR GENERAL BATHMINGLE]

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[ knows far too well.

Even though this line of conversation hits a little too hard, he can't quite turn away either. Misery is misery. His reply is almost a mumble. ]

Not a shared experience I was looking for.

[petpetpet and pulls you closer]

Well, people rarely get what they are looking for.

As I regained memories, my Noah began to awaken. I wasn't used to dealing with it, and once nearly took out the heart of someone I love because... [hmmm] well. Because it's right there. Because I wanted to. I knew I would hate myself for it but something about that was kind of enticing too.

That place didn't make it easy, either. The gods were cruel, and drew their power from suffering, so there was never any lack of it. Everyone was recovering memories of their own horrible lives, though usually things like 'I killed my father' or 'I was betrayed by my friends'. They played games where they were forced to kill each other or sacrifice themselves, and I saw the body of that person who I love slowly and painfully knit itself back together from death on roughly half a dozen occasions.

[laughs]

And I didn't like to stay and offer any comfort afterward because he had so many 'good' people around him and I wasn't sure I could keep myself from snapping a bit and letting my pleasure show more than my upset.

[ that's really fucked up

after a moment more of just. robot resistance though his face breaks into. some kind of rather pleased look. ]

Have you ever then . . .? Killed him.

Before the caves, the second time I met him, I put a hole in his heart and left him to bleed out. But he got better, because he's annoying like that. He was also one of the few I could not break. But he loves me and it's certainly caused him no end of misery.

[sigh]

Once he went into my heart for a 'game', not unlike going into your dreams, and was able to feel what I feel and enjoy the types of things I enjoy but never spoke to him about, and came out of it a sobbing wreck. It was one of those low points where you realize just how much of twisted wretch you are.

[ dreams, heart games, seems like annoying shit. ]

A sobbing wreck. But you love him.

I do love him. I was sane enough at the time that that experience was mostly just unfortunate, though a part of me still enjoyed his tears, of course.

[saah, takes hand away from you to rub his face briefly]

I recovered many more memories about the people I killed and whose deaths I enjoyed. I was fighting a war against the church, so many a 'good' man ended up missing organs or dangling from lampposts with a chain wrapped around their lungs. I tried to stop taking my memories at some point, but... hm.... why didn't I just stop? I suppose a part of me felt like I deserved my unhappiness. And a part of me no doubt just wanted to snap all ready so that my pain would end, or at least be overridden. It is also undeniably my life and of value to me. I had friends and a family that I cared for and wanted to remember, that I didn't have the right to forget just because remembering was inconvenient.

I was very indecisive then, I suppose. Stop, start. I would find jobs for the gods that involved torture or murder or then hide in my room and smoke and drink and fuck until I couldn't feel anything. I would convince myself that I wanted to stay at least 'human' and keep my sanity, then it would be too much and I would look for a way to just go back to being a monster. Honestly, I have trouble remembering it in much detail.

That you didn't have the right to forget? An interesting morality.

[ sigh. Still watching keenly. ]

Loving someone means you are obligated to them in a way. Love is worth more than pain, so sometimes you endure pain for the people you love. The memories of those people are valuable to me, and in the end, I don't regret regaining those memories even if it means I have to live with all the rest of myself.