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unknownandi.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
tampered2007-10-29 12:43 am
unknownandi.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2007-10-29 12:43 am
Log: complete
When; October 28, late evening
Rating; PG
Characters; X![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
unknownandi, Sullivan to_surpass_man
Summary; Two strangers on a train discuss weakness and strength, humans and monsters.
Log;
The subway car, dinged and dented from the results of a years of curses upon the inhabitants of this city, rumbled on through the city. There were only a couple people on at this time of night, nearing last train.
X looked like a middle-aged woman when she got on the train at the stop closest to the forest. Black slacks and a plain white shirt she'd stolen from someone's clothesline - probably a uniform for somewhere formal, she guessed - certainly wouldn't stand out among the strange inhabitants of the city. Just another human, on their daily route home.
And X was going home. She couldn't quite remember why she'd decided to spend several days as a giant frog in the forest. That was kind of weird, if you asked her. And the taste of flies really left a lot to be desired. When she got home, maybe she'd order a pizza, or just find a convenience store on the way back, if there was still one there. The city seemed like something very, very big had happened recently, and she'd missed out on the final destructive days. And then tomorrow would be a big day: there was the matter of finding the Prince again (she had uses for him, even if he did call her a 'lackey'), and working more on the preparations for dealing with Envy. And considering what to do about the magic-users of the city -- that was particularly troubling and intriguing all at the same time.
--
Sullivan had managed to stay out of the way of the too-lengthy curse, lying low. He'd had nothing to fear; with no magic to speak of, he would have been ignored in the frantic search as it was.
He'd holed himself up in his apartment, unwilling to get mixed up in the curse, and perhaps that was the reason he hadn't been able to truly explore the City until now. Sullivan wanted to find a way out, and if he knew nothing about his makeshift prison, he would never locate an exit at all.
He'd visited the carousel and the fountain, as well as some of the other larger, more important buildings in the City, and it was almost time to go back to the apartment he was now forced to live in. It was getting dark, and without any supernatural defenses, Sullivan was unwilling to take any chances. If he died, after all, he would never be able to return.
The subway was the best way to get around, so at the stop -- when the nearest car rolled to a stop in front of him -- he stepped through the automatic doors, taking one of the many empty seats. He wasn't far from a rather typical looking woman, but he merely took her appearance in and ignored her. She was not, at this point, worth his recognition. Instead, he delved into his pocket for the book he'd managed to find in one of the shops, flipping it open to the first page.
--
Meanwhile, X pondered her situation further. And of course the matter of food. There was lots to keep her brain busy, distracted from the unease that settled inside her whenever she had too much time to think and wonder who she really was. But despite all of that... it did keep coming back to that, didn't it. She'd have to make another box, soon. Hopefully with somehing new, and get even just the slightest hint of what might be inside her...
She felt her cells were starting to drift, and so she held on to control. She'd been an old man, right? With a gristly grey beard and sideburns. That was another one of his easy faces.
Back to distraction. Right. Boxes, without help around, required preparation. Now wasn't the time.
"Whatcha readin' there, youngster?" he asked, leaning over to catch a glance at Sullivan's novel.
--
Sullivan stiffened slightly at the comment, but thought nothing of it for a moment, instead replying shortly, "Thus spake Zarathustra." Not that he'd gone past the first paragraph; he'd hardly started and this man was already bothering him--
...Man?
His mind suddenly clicked onto the bits of information he'd had: Upon getting on the train, he and a forty-something year old female had been sitting on separate sides of the car. Now, the voice by his ear was a masculine one. Something was not quite right; no one had stepped into the car after him, had they?
He whipped his head around, dark blue eyes resting on the individual beside him. There was no one else there. "Where did you come from?" he asked rather warily.
--
"Eh? Been sittin' here a while," X continues, keeping his choice of wording roughly appropriate. "Any good, that book? That Nietzsche fella has some funny ideas about "the overman" and "will to power" and all. Most people are pretty much the same on the inside, I can tell you." From very literal experience, in fact.
"Most of 'em anyway."
Not that X had read any of it, but there was a certain amount of background philosophy he picked up from perusing books of art history, picking and choosing his targets from the works that he felt 'spoke' to him. The real books philosophy came from were far too dry, too long, too boring, to hold his interest for long.
--
"You weren't there before," Sullivan pointed out quite bluntly. Of course, he didn't put it past this new fellow to have teleported in; there seemed to be many strange people around, with even stranger powers. But he doubted it. The woman simply had gone as well, and Sullivan wondered almost belatedly if they were the same person. "Unless," he said with narrowed eyes, "you can change your appearance?"
For someone who didn't really have any use for supernatural powers, he was certainly getting the hang of recognising them.
He ignored the conversation about Nietzsche for the time being; he did not want this stranger to get out of replying to the more significant question.
--
"Oh, I wasn't?" People in this city were really good X reminded himself. Maybe this was just more magic. Or, maybe even more likely, he forgot again. In a strange sort of way, he missed Ai. She was handy to have around, even if she might bother him with stupid little things once in a while. And she could remind him who he had been looking like.
"Hmmm. What did I look like, again?" he hazards, wondering if this guy will take him seriously, or just brush it off as his imagination. It would be interesting to find out.
--
He blinked. Strange people, he reminded himself, and he shut his book. There would be no more reading for the rest of the trip, he noted with faint irritation. "What did you look like?" he repeated, an almost condescending tone to his words.
"You looked like a woman." Although he felt like the inquiry was a ridiculous one, he felt compelled to answer it. "Probably around forty years old. Now you're an elderly man. I see a very large discrepancy between the two."
Sullivan paused, then almost reluctantly asked, "...How did you do it?"
--
"Like this?" There's something very disturbing about the way X's face reforms, a quiet, barely audible slithering of muscles and skin and creaking of bone beneath, and a very horrible looking moment where X's face is half one person and half of another before it all comes together as a comely-enough woman of around the age mentioned, though definitely not the same still. "Or maybe this one?" Another face, with long blonde tresses instead of short dark hair, the strands seeming to have a life of their own.
She leans way over, far too close, and smiles innocently. "This city's so interesting. So many different kinds of strange creatures, when I only ever met one at home. And here, everybody's too afraid of the monsters to worry about the people. I mean, you're not scared, are you? And yet, at home, the whole world trembles in fear..."
--
Sullivan's expression did not shift, not even as he listened to the strange mutations of flesh. It was bizarre; it was unnatural; but to Sullivan, it was hardly frightening. There were things more grotesque in his own world that were more horrifying for entirely different reasons.
He didn't seem particularly comfortable, however, when the now-female stranger leaned too close for comfort. "No," he said shortly. "I'm not afraid of you. Though I'd appreciate it if you kept a respectable distance between us." He didn't like being in such a close proximity with someone he did not know. In fact, Sullivan had his desire for space even with people he was acquainted with.
"You seem to like it better here than your home world," Sullivan noted, one eyebrow arched elegantly. "Or do you dislike this world because you enjoy tasting others' fear?"
--
"Oh, they had reason to be afraid. But I like it here," X said, not changing her distance from Sullivan at all. And that was true enough. There was no Ai, or even Neuro here. But he had new monsters to aim for in the city, some of which were particularly fascinating. "Even if I haven't found what I'm looking for yet. I have so much selection to choose from."
"Say," she said, eyes wide and curiously intent, smile light. "You're not some sort of monster, are you? It's so hard to be sure in this city... but I'd say you look human."
--
"Oh?" Sullivan's other eyebrow rose. "What are you looking for?" Judging from the way this person acted, it was bound to be nothing good -- but then again, this person (Sullivan could no longer be certain of its true gender) didn't seem to have anything against him, if he was speaking so casually. Sullivan figured he had little to worry about.
"Mm. I'm human," he said, lip curling slightly. "Unfortunately."
--
X seemed about to say something, but paused at Sullivan's final word. "Unfortunately? Why do you say that?" she asked, sitting back. The train came to her stop, but she didn't bother getting off. The doors opened and closed again with nobody getting on, and the train rattled onwards.
This was a little more interesting, after all, than going straight home.
--
Sullivan stared at her -- him -- it, and his lips pressed into a thin line. "In case you hadn't noticed," Sullivan said wryly, shifting slightly in his seat, "humans are the weakest of creatures in this City. Although where I come from I'm considered particularly strong, I have no supernatural enhancements; I have no magic."
He hesitated, eyes narrowing. "In this situation," he said, coldly and clearly, "it might be better to be a monster."
--
"It might be. Then I could take you apart and separate you out into tiny cells to compare to my own, and see if I can find out who I am inside."
"But I have no magic," X continued, examinig her hand as it slowly sprouted an extra finger, extra joints to existing fingers. She held them up to her face, as if by way of example. "No supernatural enhancements. My cells just keep mutating, changing... is that enough to make someone a monster? I don't know. Maybe it isn't. Maybe I should take you apart and look inside you anyway, if we're both human. Everyone up until now has looked the same, but... there's always a chance..."
--
Sullivan did not appear fazed by the quasi-threat. "For a human," he said blandly, "I'm quite strong. If you make any wrong move towards me, I will rip you to pieces. I think it'd be better if you left me alone, don't you? So you can live to kill the monsters another day."
He was prepared for any fight; he had his customised weapons at the ready, as usual. "As it is," he went on, "I would not consider you a monster. You're ... simply a different type of human."
--
"'For a human?' You know, someone else once said the same thing, that I was a different type of human. But even he didn't know any more than that."
"If I am really human, then humans don't have any limitations," X smiled, that same little smile, as she allowed one arm to become monsterously large, with thick leathery skin, bulgng muscles, and long jagged nails. "And are definitely not some of the weakest creatures in the city."
--
Sullivan smiled, but it was not meant to be pleasant. "Perhaps that's true," he acknowledged. "But you don't see most humans with the abilities you have, correct? It's better to assume that you are a special genre of homo sapien, and that most of our species do not have such abilities." He raked a hand through his dark hair, and his smile soon faded.
"I don't plan on being here long enough to find out whether I truly am one of the weaklings of the City, however," he said almost loftily. The train began to slow, and Sullivan stood; his stop was next. "I'm trying to find a way out."
--
"They say the harder you look, the less likely you are to find an exit," X said cheerily, her arm returning to normal as they neared the station. "And why leave when you could gain some of those abilities right here?"
--
Sullivan sighed. "So I've heard," he responded, "but I'm hardly going to give up. I can't just ... stay here." he paused. "Gaining abilities ... that's something I need for the present. I don't care about them. I want to use them for one purpose: to get back home. Or, conversely, bring somebody here." He smiled wryly. "However, I believe the first option is more viable, and I'd prefer it anyway."
--
"So in other words, you're limiting yourself," X said, standing up as the train slowed. Maybe she should kill him anyway. There were people out there hunting for X. Eventually they might connect this encounter to him, especially if this man spoke about it on the Network. She should kill him ...and then make a box of him anyway. It couldn't hurt. "You're not weak because you're human, you're weak because of the city. Homesick..."
X paused, and considered this, in light of her lack of knowledge about herself. No family, no birthplace, no home other than a place to store stolen artwork. No, he was really nothing like the entity known as X at all. No, no box.
"Be careful. If, someday, you don't remember where you came from, you might end up like me," she added, more thoughtfully.
--
Sullivan shrugged. "Perhaps," he said. "But I'm doing so for a purpose. I have unfinished business back home." The subway train came to a shuddering stop, and he nodded to the stranger.
"It's been interesting," he said dryly, "but it's my stop." He gave a two-fingered wave over his shoulder as he left the car. "I'll probably see you around." And without offering his name or asking the stranger's in return, he stepped onto the pavement and made his way towards his new apartment.
--
X didn't wave, but he did watch Sullivan out the window until he moved out of sight and the train doors jerked closed, carrying the car and its unknown passenger off into the night.
Rating; PG
Characters; X
unknownandi, Sullivan to_surpass_manSummary; Two strangers on a train discuss weakness and strength, humans and monsters.
Log;
The subway car, dinged and dented from the results of a years of curses upon the inhabitants of this city, rumbled on through the city. There were only a couple people on at this time of night, nearing last train.
X looked like a middle-aged woman when she got on the train at the stop closest to the forest. Black slacks and a plain white shirt she'd stolen from someone's clothesline - probably a uniform for somewhere formal, she guessed - certainly wouldn't stand out among the strange inhabitants of the city. Just another human, on their daily route home.
And X was going home. She couldn't quite remember why she'd decided to spend several days as a giant frog in the forest. That was kind of weird, if you asked her. And the taste of flies really left a lot to be desired. When she got home, maybe she'd order a pizza, or just find a convenience store on the way back, if there was still one there. The city seemed like something very, very big had happened recently, and she'd missed out on the final destructive days. And then tomorrow would be a big day: there was the matter of finding the Prince again (she had uses for him, even if he did call her a 'lackey'), and working more on the preparations for dealing with Envy. And considering what to do about the magic-users of the city -- that was particularly troubling and intriguing all at the same time.
--
Sullivan had managed to stay out of the way of the too-lengthy curse, lying low. He'd had nothing to fear; with no magic to speak of, he would have been ignored in the frantic search as it was.
He'd holed himself up in his apartment, unwilling to get mixed up in the curse, and perhaps that was the reason he hadn't been able to truly explore the City until now. Sullivan wanted to find a way out, and if he knew nothing about his makeshift prison, he would never locate an exit at all.
He'd visited the carousel and the fountain, as well as some of the other larger, more important buildings in the City, and it was almost time to go back to the apartment he was now forced to live in. It was getting dark, and without any supernatural defenses, Sullivan was unwilling to take any chances. If he died, after all, he would never be able to return.
The subway was the best way to get around, so at the stop -- when the nearest car rolled to a stop in front of him -- he stepped through the automatic doors, taking one of the many empty seats. He wasn't far from a rather typical looking woman, but he merely took her appearance in and ignored her. She was not, at this point, worth his recognition. Instead, he delved into his pocket for the book he'd managed to find in one of the shops, flipping it open to the first page.
--
Meanwhile, X pondered her situation further. And of course the matter of food. There was lots to keep her brain busy, distracted from the unease that settled inside her whenever she had too much time to think and wonder who she really was. But despite all of that... it did keep coming back to that, didn't it. She'd have to make another box, soon. Hopefully with somehing new, and get even just the slightest hint of what might be inside her...
She felt her cells were starting to drift, and so she held on to control. She'd been an old man, right? With a gristly grey beard and sideburns. That was another one of his easy faces.
Back to distraction. Right. Boxes, without help around, required preparation. Now wasn't the time.
"Whatcha readin' there, youngster?" he asked, leaning over to catch a glance at Sullivan's novel.
--
Sullivan stiffened slightly at the comment, but thought nothing of it for a moment, instead replying shortly, "Thus spake Zarathustra." Not that he'd gone past the first paragraph; he'd hardly started and this man was already bothering him--
...Man?
His mind suddenly clicked onto the bits of information he'd had: Upon getting on the train, he and a forty-something year old female had been sitting on separate sides of the car. Now, the voice by his ear was a masculine one. Something was not quite right; no one had stepped into the car after him, had they?
He whipped his head around, dark blue eyes resting on the individual beside him. There was no one else there. "Where did you come from?" he asked rather warily.
--
"Eh? Been sittin' here a while," X continues, keeping his choice of wording roughly appropriate. "Any good, that book? That Nietzsche fella has some funny ideas about "the overman" and "will to power" and all. Most people are pretty much the same on the inside, I can tell you." From very literal experience, in fact.
"Most of 'em anyway."
Not that X had read any of it, but there was a certain amount of background philosophy he picked up from perusing books of art history, picking and choosing his targets from the works that he felt 'spoke' to him. The real books philosophy came from were far too dry, too long, too boring, to hold his interest for long.
--
"You weren't there before," Sullivan pointed out quite bluntly. Of course, he didn't put it past this new fellow to have teleported in; there seemed to be many strange people around, with even stranger powers. But he doubted it. The woman simply had gone as well, and Sullivan wondered almost belatedly if they were the same person. "Unless," he said with narrowed eyes, "you can change your appearance?"
For someone who didn't really have any use for supernatural powers, he was certainly getting the hang of recognising them.
He ignored the conversation about Nietzsche for the time being; he did not want this stranger to get out of replying to the more significant question.
--
"Oh, I wasn't?" People in this city were really good X reminded himself. Maybe this was just more magic. Or, maybe even more likely, he forgot again. In a strange sort of way, he missed Ai. She was handy to have around, even if she might bother him with stupid little things once in a while. And she could remind him who he had been looking like.
"Hmmm. What did I look like, again?" he hazards, wondering if this guy will take him seriously, or just brush it off as his imagination. It would be interesting to find out.
--
He blinked. Strange people, he reminded himself, and he shut his book. There would be no more reading for the rest of the trip, he noted with faint irritation. "What did you look like?" he repeated, an almost condescending tone to his words.
"You looked like a woman." Although he felt like the inquiry was a ridiculous one, he felt compelled to answer it. "Probably around forty years old. Now you're an elderly man. I see a very large discrepancy between the two."
Sullivan paused, then almost reluctantly asked, "...How did you do it?"
--
"Like this?" There's something very disturbing about the way X's face reforms, a quiet, barely audible slithering of muscles and skin and creaking of bone beneath, and a very horrible looking moment where X's face is half one person and half of another before it all comes together as a comely-enough woman of around the age mentioned, though definitely not the same still. "Or maybe this one?" Another face, with long blonde tresses instead of short dark hair, the strands seeming to have a life of their own.
She leans way over, far too close, and smiles innocently. "This city's so interesting. So many different kinds of strange creatures, when I only ever met one at home. And here, everybody's too afraid of the monsters to worry about the people. I mean, you're not scared, are you? And yet, at home, the whole world trembles in fear..."
--
Sullivan's expression did not shift, not even as he listened to the strange mutations of flesh. It was bizarre; it was unnatural; but to Sullivan, it was hardly frightening. There were things more grotesque in his own world that were more horrifying for entirely different reasons.
He didn't seem particularly comfortable, however, when the now-female stranger leaned too close for comfort. "No," he said shortly. "I'm not afraid of you. Though I'd appreciate it if you kept a respectable distance between us." He didn't like being in such a close proximity with someone he did not know. In fact, Sullivan had his desire for space even with people he was acquainted with.
"You seem to like it better here than your home world," Sullivan noted, one eyebrow arched elegantly. "Or do you dislike this world because you enjoy tasting others' fear?"
--
"Oh, they had reason to be afraid. But I like it here," X said, not changing her distance from Sullivan at all. And that was true enough. There was no Ai, or even Neuro here. But he had new monsters to aim for in the city, some of which were particularly fascinating. "Even if I haven't found what I'm looking for yet. I have so much selection to choose from."
"Say," she said, eyes wide and curiously intent, smile light. "You're not some sort of monster, are you? It's so hard to be sure in this city... but I'd say you look human."
--
"Oh?" Sullivan's other eyebrow rose. "What are you looking for?" Judging from the way this person acted, it was bound to be nothing good -- but then again, this person (Sullivan could no longer be certain of its true gender) didn't seem to have anything against him, if he was speaking so casually. Sullivan figured he had little to worry about.
"Mm. I'm human," he said, lip curling slightly. "Unfortunately."
--
X seemed about to say something, but paused at Sullivan's final word. "Unfortunately? Why do you say that?" she asked, sitting back. The train came to her stop, but she didn't bother getting off. The doors opened and closed again with nobody getting on, and the train rattled onwards.
This was a little more interesting, after all, than going straight home.
--
Sullivan stared at her -- him -- it, and his lips pressed into a thin line. "In case you hadn't noticed," Sullivan said wryly, shifting slightly in his seat, "humans are the weakest of creatures in this City. Although where I come from I'm considered particularly strong, I have no supernatural enhancements; I have no magic."
He hesitated, eyes narrowing. "In this situation," he said, coldly and clearly, "it might be better to be a monster."
--
"It might be. Then I could take you apart and separate you out into tiny cells to compare to my own, and see if I can find out who I am inside."
"But I have no magic," X continued, examinig her hand as it slowly sprouted an extra finger, extra joints to existing fingers. She held them up to her face, as if by way of example. "No supernatural enhancements. My cells just keep mutating, changing... is that enough to make someone a monster? I don't know. Maybe it isn't. Maybe I should take you apart and look inside you anyway, if we're both human. Everyone up until now has looked the same, but... there's always a chance..."
--
Sullivan did not appear fazed by the quasi-threat. "For a human," he said blandly, "I'm quite strong. If you make any wrong move towards me, I will rip you to pieces. I think it'd be better if you left me alone, don't you? So you can live to kill the monsters another day."
He was prepared for any fight; he had his customised weapons at the ready, as usual. "As it is," he went on, "I would not consider you a monster. You're ... simply a different type of human."
--
"'For a human?' You know, someone else once said the same thing, that I was a different type of human. But even he didn't know any more than that."
"If I am really human, then humans don't have any limitations," X smiled, that same little smile, as she allowed one arm to become monsterously large, with thick leathery skin, bulgng muscles, and long jagged nails. "And are definitely not some of the weakest creatures in the city."
--
Sullivan smiled, but it was not meant to be pleasant. "Perhaps that's true," he acknowledged. "But you don't see most humans with the abilities you have, correct? It's better to assume that you are a special genre of homo sapien, and that most of our species do not have such abilities." He raked a hand through his dark hair, and his smile soon faded.
"I don't plan on being here long enough to find out whether I truly am one of the weaklings of the City, however," he said almost loftily. The train began to slow, and Sullivan stood; his stop was next. "I'm trying to find a way out."
--
"They say the harder you look, the less likely you are to find an exit," X said cheerily, her arm returning to normal as they neared the station. "And why leave when you could gain some of those abilities right here?"
--
Sullivan sighed. "So I've heard," he responded, "but I'm hardly going to give up. I can't just ... stay here." he paused. "Gaining abilities ... that's something I need for the present. I don't care about them. I want to use them for one purpose: to get back home. Or, conversely, bring somebody here." He smiled wryly. "However, I believe the first option is more viable, and I'd prefer it anyway."
--
"So in other words, you're limiting yourself," X said, standing up as the train slowed. Maybe she should kill him anyway. There were people out there hunting for X. Eventually they might connect this encounter to him, especially if this man spoke about it on the Network. She should kill him ...and then make a box of him anyway. It couldn't hurt. "You're not weak because you're human, you're weak because of the city. Homesick..."
X paused, and considered this, in light of her lack of knowledge about herself. No family, no birthplace, no home other than a place to store stolen artwork. No, he was really nothing like the entity known as X at all. No, no box.
"Be careful. If, someday, you don't remember where you came from, you might end up like me," she added, more thoughtfully.
--
Sullivan shrugged. "Perhaps," he said. "But I'm doing so for a purpose. I have unfinished business back home." The subway train came to a shuddering stop, and he nodded to the stranger.
"It's been interesting," he said dryly, "but it's my stop." He gave a two-fingered wave over his shoulder as he left the car. "I'll probably see you around." And without offering his name or asking the stranger's in return, he stepped onto the pavement and made his way towards his new apartment.
--
X didn't wave, but he did watch Sullivan out the window until he moved out of sight and the train doors jerked closed, carrying the car and its unknown passenger off into the night.