WHITHER, O WHITHER [MICA]

[Pompeii Lenore]

The leaves were coming off the trees again. Last time, cold, white stuff had fallen over everything after all the leaves were off, and then when that was gone the leaves came back. Pompeii figured someone had taken them down and put them back up. Maybe that was somebody’s objective. Maybe it was just some strange thing the abominations did. Either way, she couldn’t imagine what the point was. She wasn’t going to ask the other viruses. Maybe she should ask the next shifter. Maybe this year she would catch whoever it was and ask them directly.


Pompeii paused with her snout to the ground. She was learning to follow scents, or rather not to continually switch between trails. They’d all be dead one day, but for now she would have to just chose one if she hoped to get anything done. There were many scents here, but she knew which one to pad after.


At least the scattering of leaves on the pavement was light, and therefore easily avoided. She’d learned not to make noises when hunting for things; they might hide or run if they heard you coming. Of course, it was only for food that she had to stay quiet right for as long as possible. She’d killed a shifter that way only once, charging it silently and killing it quickly. All she ever heard from that one was those screaming noises. Afterwards the mind voices were incessant. What did it talk like? What could it have explained? Did it want to live? Even now these questions became itchy. It made no sense; Pompeii’s one objective was to kill the abominations. The Whitecoat’s objective was all that mattered. Should have mattered. The mind voices, however, were becoming louder and louder, reminding her of all the things she didn’t know. They were constant and that felt important. Why wouldn’t the Whitecoats have said anything about that though?


What the striped virus did know was that she had time, and she had help. Much as it pained her to share the hunt with other viruses, it did mean she didn’t have to hurry to complete the goal. There was time enough to engage the shifters, learn as much as she could from them before finishing them. They didn’t deserve to have all that information anyway.


The trail rounded a corner and then, there it was. Now it didn’t matter if she stepped on any leaves. They were always more fun if they thought she was safe at first. She did have to be careful, though. Sometimes they knew she was a virus. Those ones ran away or attacked from the start.


The creature trotted in an arc, stopping once she drew even with her target. One wide, unblinking eye stared at it from the side of her head. She wanted to see how it chose to respond.




o.o.c. - Out on the streets even though it's a building board |D

[MICA REYNOLDS]

Mica had started to box at fourteen. One of the most important pieces of advice she had ever been given was breath. Her first fight she had been nothing but a tangle of nerves, on the verge of hyperventilating. It wasn't because she was afraid, even after the first round left her beaten and bruised. It was because she was too damn excited. Her trainer had knelt to meet her eyes and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Breathe, Mica. Just remember to breathe. Put yourself somewhere calm; you've got to be a million miles away but right there in the fight at the same time." It had taken her months to understand what he had meant and, when she finally did realize, the epiphany was enough that it could have given her a professional career in the sport. It was a trick that she never let go of. Applicable to anything, it was one of the most priceless talents Mica possessed. She was a million miles away and right there at the same time. Her senses were aware and reaching even as her mind flew far, far away. The leaves reminded her of Colorado in autumn. Her boots scuffed them as she wandered, perhaps a little aimlessly, around hollowed buildings. They made her sad, with their bright art and empty windows. She kept her arms crossed. It smelled like a storm, wet, foggy. She could smell the decay of the buildings but the wind blew into her face. Her ears strained and her eyes wandered. She wished Richy was there. She missed him more than she missed anyone else, except maybe her niece... Shhh, shhhhst. The rustle of leaves. Mica pivoted on a heel to face the sound, already strung tight as a bow. The thing she saw she did not understand. It was like a mutant from a horror movie. She licked her chapped lips and stood her ground. Can I outrun it? She examined the shape, the ungainly body. She was built to run, in her shift form... she could outrun it. With escape secure in her mind, although not so secure that she became confident, Mica crossed her arms and spoke. "Hello?" She was ready to run, however, shoulders and calves tight with anticipation. At one wrong move she would be hauling ass toward the Carna border... She kept breathing, though. I wonder what he's doing right now...

[Pompeii Lenore]

The creature was ready to run. Maybe scared, maybe just its unwillingness to accept that it was bad and needed to be purged. They were like that, couldn’t be reasoned with. Pompeii didn’t know how she could tell this, it was just something the inside voice knew. She’d heard it called ‘feeling’ things, but that didn’t make sense. The information never came from her skin, and she wondered if that was how others did it. For Pom, it seemed to just already be there. No one had ever explained instinct to her fully. Dull as her wits could be, there were three different predators incorporated into her being.

Still, it had said ‘hello.’ What the word meant exactly, she’d never been able to figure out. They all said it was a word to say when you meet somebody. One had called it a ‘greedeen’ or something, and said there were many, though she’d forgotten the ones it had told her. What was important was that ‘hello’ seemed to indicate willingness to stay and talk. This one wasn’t going to leave just yet, as long as she didn’t startle it.

As her muscles relaxed, Pompeii noticed them beginning to complain. Earlier she’d been so intent on finding the abomination. Now that she didn’t need to follow scents, it was probably safe to take on two feet for now. She would need the fourfoot one to be fresh later, when she inevitably attacked. There was only the problem of switching without startling the prey. “She changes now, it shouldn’t get scared.” Pompeii slowly took a few steps away from it, then shifted. Now that her eyes were facing forward, she turned to the shifter, hands folding in front of her.

Its ‘hello’ meant she was free to ask it anything now. She always hesitated here, with the whole world of questions open and a fresh mind that hadn’t yet tired of her. If it laughed at her, she would just hurt it more when she infected it.

Her tail flicked lazily, dragging a few leaves along with it. The sound reminded her, and given that she was already getting impatient she went for it. “Does it know who takes the leaves down? Did it do it?”

[MICA REYNOLDS]

She knew her curiosity, in this situation, could easily become deadly. Yet she remained transfixed, neither petrified by fear nor by any sense of inquistiveness. It was merely... dull interest, the interest of a mind that had already been forced to accept so much unacceptable information.  They remained locked, gaze-in-gaze, and Mica thought of Richy's incredulous smile. He would not have smiled here, in this place... She changes now, it shouldn't get scared.  Mica did not understand until it happened. The creature was a shapeshifter? She shifted farther away, still tense. Her breath remained calm, however. So, so calm. Even as her fingers clenched into fists and she remembered, abruptly, having been warned against mutant creatures the Keepers sent out to plague the Rings and rogues. Viruses. Mica had thought that it was a story used to scare her, not educate her, and now she scrambled to recollect everything that they had said of these strange things. Their shifts were not normal shifts. They were a combination of animals. True abominations.  Does it know who takes the leaves down? Did it do it?  She paused. There was brief second she did not understand; and then Mica realized that the creature asked about the leaves. Perhaps if she indulged in its curiosity it would not kill her? Or try to kill her? "Nature," Mica replied, a little uncertainly. "The seasons change and during this season the leaves fall off of the trees. They regrow in the spring."

[Pompeii Lenore]

It replied, and it did not laugh. Still, she grew fidgety as it spoke. Her brows would have knit, if her body had known how to respond. “It goes too fast, wait.” She knew the leaves came back in the spring, at least. What was a season, though? Nature had been explained to her a couple of times previous, but she still didn’t understand that either. And there was still the why. WHY did it happen this way? What was doing it and where was it?

Maybe they’d lied to her about trees. One of them had told her, trees are alive. ‘Alive’ was the things that moved around and made noises. Trees did that a little bit, but they did it the same way trash on the ground moved and made noise, and trash was not alive, they said. Maybe they moved when nothing was looking, or somehow never moved, which she didn’t think alive things were allowed to do. Someone once told her trees ate sunlight. But they smiled when they said it, so Pompeii kept away from the trees, just in case.

If trees were alive, why would they drop their leaves when the cold was coming? Leaves seemed something like fur, and if trees were alive, they would need it to keep out the cold. Her understanding of cold was that she should try to avoid it, because she could die if she was around it too long, as would anything alive. Cold was a bit like nature, though. It was explained but still not clear. Nothing she’d asked knew what it looked like; they said it didn’t look like anything. Pompeii wasn’t convinced. They said air didn’t look like anything either, but it did. Most of the time it looked like clean glass, but sometimes in the morning it was whitish, and harder to see through. Her own breath-air looked like that sometimes, when the cold was around.

A scratching sound caught her flighty attention. A glance proved it to be only leaves, though, moving behind her. If trees were alive, were the leaves alive when separate? They seemed to do the same things that would make trees alive. So many questions. She should ask the abomination before all the questions were gone.

Or before the abomination was gone.

She was slow of mind, and lacked the strength that many of her kind had, but at least she was fast. The keepers had to give her something to make her not completely inept, after all. As soon as she caught sight of the creature, whatever it was, she was in her doglike form and dashing after. The gain was slow, but Pompeii was going to drop from exhaustion before she thought the chase was pointless. Fortunately the abomination seemed to have tried sprinting, and started to slow soon enough. The virus' attack was direct; she tried too soon to bite a back leg, and only got whacked in the face. But the interference made the thing stagger, and Pompeii went for the exact same target, getting whacked again but not hard enough to prevent her biting down. It kicked, she held, and with a yank managed to pull it over. In a heart pounding second she let go and leapt on top,biting into it's long neck.

She would have loved to ask it questions, find out what this new things was. But that was a good way to lose it, let it get back out to polluting. Pompeii would just kill it, and find out what she could from its insides.

END THREAD

anudder wun bites the dust