View Flat HTML
View Metadata
Search Post
Voice lets her go.
Shell doesn't know how long it's been. She doesn't know where she is. She doesn't know how to get home, or if she has one.
She stands on Voice's doorstep. She blinks slowly at the brightness.
She walks in a random direction.
Downsiders aren't big on charity. It's not like it's going to kill her if she doesn't get help. It's not like she's unfamiliar with the effects of dehydration and hunger; Voice didn't always remember to take good care of the pet in the basement. Shell walks, and when she's tired she lies down on the ground and sleeps, and when she wakes up she walks, and every few days she curls up on the ground, waits to torch from thirst, and then gets up and goes on.
She doesn't count the number of times this happens. It doesn't matter.
She walks. She has nightmares. She walks.
On an unremarkable day on an unremarkable street after unremarkable stretches of years, she feels herself cross a telltale threshold of dizziness and headache: she cannot make significant forward progress towards Not Where She Is Currently Located until she torches or (less likely) someone gives her a lot of water. It's possible she'll be able to sleep through this torch. She sits. She leans on a wall. She should probably pick up the next sharp object she finds. Maybe a piece of broken glass will present itself. Then she can skip these parts.
She sits, and she closes her eyes, and she waits. If the buildings around her would ever have seemed familiar, they don't now.
+ Show First Post
arenaria
arenaria
"...It sounds like a name," offers Shell. "Some names I hear people using when they talk outside about people who don't have Downside names yet don't sound like names to me."
But that's all.
"Did I say anything else? I remember - I wanted paper - and eventually Voice gave me paper, after they were sure I wouldn't be able to look at them if they set me up in a way where I'd be able to write - but by then I didn't have anything to put."
But that's all.
"Did I say anything else? I remember - I wanted paper - and eventually Voice gave me paper, after they were sure I wouldn't be able to look at them if they set me up in a way where I'd be able to write - but by then I didn't have anything to put."
finaldiscussion
"You were looking for paper when you spoke with me, too, I think. I remember I gave you a pen."
arenaria
"I guess if it was sixty or seventy years ago it's surprising you remember me at all. Let alone anything I said."
arenaria
"That's lucky," Shell sighs. "If nice things happened to me that would be a nice thing I'd want, a really, really good memory..."
arenaria
Shell drinks it, in slow little sips, wrapping both hands around the cup.
"...This seems like... a thing that can happen. The same way 'Sherlock' sounds like a name. Did you give me tea before?"
"...This seems like... a thing that can happen. The same way 'Sherlock' sounds like a name. Did you give me tea before?"
arenaria
"It's good," says Shell. "Thank you."
Sip. Sip.
"I wonder if I could get anywhere at remembering things by finding out what other things seem like things that can happen. I wonder if that's reliable or if I'd just wind up believing the silly stories I made up to make myself feel better when Voice had me. There were a lot. They all contradict each other."
Sip. Sip.
"I wonder if I could get anywhere at remembering things by finding out what other things seem like things that can happen. I wonder if that's reliable or if I'd just wind up believing the silly stories I made up to make myself feel better when Voice had me. There were a lot. They all contradict each other."
finaldiscussion
He shrugs. "I don't have much experience with that kind of reconstruction."
arenaria
"I know I wanted paper very badly at one point, or I don't suppose I'd care so much now."
arenaria
"I wonder what I did. I wonder who I was. I can't even remember if Shell is actually my name or not. Did I tell you my name before?"
arenaria
"Okay," says Shell, brightening. "That's good then."
Eventually tea is consumed, and Shell has reread her residential code enough times to commit to memory as long as nothing traumatic happens in the meantime.
Shell gets up to go.
And stops.
"I am very, very afraid now and I don't know why," she murmurs, "but I don't want to leave here alone."
Eventually tea is consumed, and Shell has reread her residential code enough times to commit to memory as long as nothing traumatic happens in the meantime.
Shell gets up to go.
And stops.
"I am very, very afraid now and I don't know why," she murmurs, "but I don't want to leave here alone."
arenaria
"Thank you."
Shell passed the station on her way through this neighborhood, and goes back that way now. She can't remember ever using one before, though she's sure she has, but the interface isn't too complicated.
She feels it is very important to be exacting in typing in her res code.
She starts over twice, to make sure.
When she's sure she has it right, and she's memorized the path from station to her residence, they travel.
Shell passed the station on her way through this neighborhood, and goes back that way now. She can't remember ever using one before, though she's sure she has, but the interface isn't too complicated.
She feels it is very important to be exacting in typing in her res code.
She starts over twice, to make sure.
When she's sure she has it right, and she's memorized the path from station to her residence, they travel.
arenaria
Her apartment is cluttered. Every surface has something on it. Some surfaces have large stacks of things. Her shelves are full of books, and her kitchenette is overflowing with food and pots and pans, and her bed is heaped with clothes, and there is all manner of miscellany hiding her carpet.
"I guess stuff just keeps accumulating if no one's home," observes Shell, tilting her head.
"I guess stuff just keeps accumulating if no one's home," observes Shell, tilting her head.
arenaria
"Yes. And if you see anything you want, tell me, you've - you're the reason I can get at any of it at all."
She nudges things aside to make a path across the little apartment to her bed and starts sorting through the heap of fabric, holding things up against herself to see if they'll fit her or not.
She nudges things aside to make a path across the little apartment to her bed and starts sorting through the heap of fabric, holding things up against herself to see if they'll fit her or not.