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talesfromgringolandia · 3 years

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Underwing Challenge Day 3 - Who is your main cast? Describe as many of your OCs as you can cram into one post.

Ok, here we go.

Clears throat, cracks knuckles:

While I am writing in third person, it's mostly from Bo’s POV. He is kind of uptight and considers himself responsible for his little sister. As eldest, he knows that he will one day be responsible for the wellbeing of his family and he takes that very seriously.

His little sister, Shen, is the exact opposite. She is very carefree and longs for excitement and adventure. She also really likes animals.

Those are the main characters. They are very simple, which I think will make them good POV’s for the world they are about to step into. Everybody else has five pages of backstory so buckle up kids.

Their father is Ambrose, a paladin of Felenor. Felenor is the titan of honor, justice, and protection, and Ambrose is as good a follower as he could possibly be. Many many years ago, he fled Destra, the original dwelling place of the Order of Felenor, when the order fell and Destra was taken over by paladins of Ildra, titan of despair and suffering. He still feels guilty for this, but Felenor appeared in his dreams telling him to wait in Endora, and gave him an amulet to protect until then. Ambrose doesn’t know what's in the amulet, but he waits in Endora until Felenor calls him to action. Since he knows he’s going to leave someday, he trains hard with Bo to prepare him to care for the family once Ambrose leaves. Before marrying Jolna, he lived in the city where he started an academy to train Guardians to protect the city from the monsters in the woods, as well as to uphold order within the city itself. The school is still operational, with a different headmaster.

Bo and Shen’s mother is Jolna, a skilled alchemist who also feels guilt over an unethical experiment she once participated in. She’s actually older than Ambrose, and at the beginning of the story, is starting to feel the effects of her age. She’s the one who suggested they move into the swamp, because she wanted to get away from all the alchemists who still see nothing wrong with the experiment.

The result of that experiment is named Carapit, a purple-skinned, winged humanoid. He is the result of human arrogance, as well as a reluctance to face the consequences of those decisions. Alchemists managed to catch a sprite, a being of pure aether, and combined it with a chimera they had previously created. The result was a being capable of terrible power, so they keep him chained up in a cave deep in the woods. Thanks to his ethereal heritage, he has telepathic capabilities. Jolna visits him regularly to make sure he’s well fed, but even she doesn’t know how to remove the sprite from him, and she knows that he really is too dangerous to be released.

Rhye is a skilled hunter, and possibly the only character here with a physical description: He’s blond and wears a green cloak. No, it's not just Link reskinned, shut up. He’s very proud of his hunting, tracking, and archery skills, and with good reason. He got kicked out of the Guardian Academy for being too much of a smartass, but he has skills to equal some of the students. He is also Ambrose’s biggest fan.

Ambrose’s brother kind of infuriates me because I cannot think up a good name for him! Nothing has really fit yet. He is a paladin of Lralso, titan of dishonor and despair. He is extremely jealous of his brother, who is the picture-perfect paladin of Felenor, which opened him up to being convinced by Lralso that honor was nothing but virtue signalling. He is going to be the inciting incident of Bo and Shen’s journey.

Another important character is Aaron Kel, captain of the Silverbird, a sky ship. He’s a pirate, but also feels guilty for stealing other people’s hard-earned stuff. He justifies it to himself by holding his crew to a high personal standard, and promising them a good start when they decide to leave his boat. This way, once they leave the boat they will (in theory) become upstanding members of society. In Captain Kel are all sorts of conflicting ideals.

Goni is from Minvir, the Isle full of ice and death. He was caught stealing food during a time of scarcity, and for that was (literally) branded a thief and banished from the tribe. After a long travel, he ended up in Galras, where he found employment in the navy as a boarder on a pirate chaser. Until one day, he gets captured by the crew of Captain Kel, who spare his life because he’s 7 foot 2 and could be a major help. Goni, according to his tribal customs, owes Captain Kel a life debt, and is fully committed to paying it back. So now he’s on the pirate ship.

Some honorable mentions who haven’t been developed enough yet:

A female paladin of Felenor who might end up being trained by Ambrose,

Captain Flucky, captain of a storming ship, one of many responsible for protecting the isle of Galras from dragon storms

The new headmaster of the Guardian Academy in Endora, who is good friends with Ambrose

A female Sentry, who uses clockwork armor powered by aether for fighting. This one is a student at the Guardian Academy.

Bear in mind that half of these exist fully in my head, and have not been written down until now. Particularly Jolna and Captain Kel.

#underwing challenge #sleepyfam #writblr #writeblr #writing #fantasy #worldbuilding #OC

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star-spangled-bastard · 7 years

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Halcyon

summary: Ulysses and Sterling are probably the worst possible people to meet each other. (set during the events of Lonesome Road)

EDIT: here’s a visual reference for Sterling

He had first spotted him, the machine, through a scope. Gleaming in what weak sun there was, shambling, dazed, through the giant wound in the earth. He tailed him for days at a distance. Too dangerous to approach. He was a shining beacon of Old World hubris, a bastardization of humanity. Looked like a man, sure, but could never be truly mistaken for a human being.

Sometimes he disappeared, but always came back into the open. Began to move slower, he noticed. Got worse as the days passed. One day he staggered out of one of the silos clutching his chest, and stumbled away until he finally collapsed into the sand, and was still. Maybe he had been looking for answers, just as Ulysses had once, and maybe he had found them.

Ulysses climbed down from the ridge and crossed the broken highroad, picked his way down the slope and stood over the broken figure. Solar panels ran down the machine’s spine, marred the illusion of humanity in his face. The fury of the sandstorms had claimed him. Raging from their source in the same Old World hell he had climbed out of. Two creations of history, face to face, and one had succumbed to the other. Interesting.

Just as Ulysses bears a symbol on his back, so does the machine. All the devastation of the Old World, etched indelibly into him. But he bore the flag too, before the winds of the Divide started to tear it off him like the skin and bone of its original inhabitants. Ulysses stands over him. Wonders what could be gained from waking him. But he remembers what comes of awakening history, has had enough answers. He doesn’t need any more.

---

The Courier awakens him, just as he awakens all the Old World as he walks through the New. Can’t leave it be. Abraham, his name was. The father of nations. He too lay buried, just like his nation, and Navarro after it, not long ago. And now he walks. He and the machine, both blazoned with stars. His own words echo back to him. “America sleeps in the Divide.”

From his vantage point, Ulysses can see the last remnants of paint left on the machine. The red stripes run down his chest from a field of blue, making him look like he’s bleeding. Maybe he is, just not in any way that could be detected. The country he was born into lies buried, like he was, like they both were. Maybe not dead at all.

---

“You wear that flag,” the machine said, in a voice he’d heard before, “do you know what it really stood for?”

Ulysses crossed his arms, leaned back against the bunker wall behind him. “Got a pretty good idea,” he said. “What about you? That mark of the Big Empty on you, any idea what it stands for?”

“Of course. Six-sided polygons, representing the six exec-”

“On paper, maybe,” Ulysses interrupted, “long ago. I mean what it truly represents.”

“I know what it represents. I left for a reason, you know. And the flag you honor, it isn’t that different. You claim this moral high ground- the two symbols are inseparable, tangled up like so many vipers. They just fed on each other, never satisfied, even after the War.”

“I know all that. Figured out a long time ago. You think me a fool, but you… you’re like a petulant child,” Ulysses said.

“Just like America was,” the machine bites back, lighting a cigarette and trying to stare Ulysses down. His eyes are red in the dim light, glowing like the beacons on the old radio towers piercing the sky. But the one in his chest is dark, destroyed in a pathetic attempt to stave off his imagined mortality. It will probably never light again, of that Ulysses is sure.

“Flag doesn’t mean the same thing now as it did to you.”

“Oh really?” he says around the cigarette in his mouth, putting his lighter back in his pocket. “And what does it mean, exactly?”

“Unity. Hope for the future. The strength to pull through all this and come out better when it’s over. Maybe not the same, but better.”

“I’ve heard that one before. You’re going to have to try harder than that,” he said, taking the cigarette from his mouth and crossing his arms. Ulysses was impressed by how bored the machine managed to look. He was getting more and more bitter as the conversation went on, and Ulysses decided to risk a guess that might cut deep.

“How long did it take you to realize the America you believed in didn’t really exist?”

There was the slightest pause, but the machine did hesitate. The barb had hit its mark.

“It was when I came here. I was brought here once before the war, one of the only times I went topside. And it seemed… perfect. It was like everything I had been told it should be. But I came back, and-” he gestured to the broken landscape around them. “Don’t think I don’t know where this sandstorm comes from.” He took a long drag from the cigarette, the end briefly burning as red as his eyes. “I started reading the terminals here, realized it was just as bad as back home. It was just as bad everywhere. Everything I had been told was a lie. Maybe not intentionally, maybe they believed the lies too. But it doesn’t matter.” He glanced up at Ulysses. “It’s all history now.”

“I understand,” Ulysses said. The machine scoffed, threw down the butt of the cigarette he was holding and ground it under his heel. Ulysses persisted. “I too saw Hopeville and believed it could be the nation that never truly existed before.”

“Yeah? And what happened?”

“That man you’ve been travelling with, the courier, took it away.”

“How?”

“He came from the west in the dying light, a different machine tailing him then. One bearing the marks of Hopeville, of Ashton, and all that laid buried there. Was real anxious to leave the Bear behind him. It had swallowed up his people a long time ago, was still hunting them down. You’ve seen him with that helmet over his head, that emblem on his chest. Might as well be a target. He never stayed in one place very long, but he always came back here, couldn’t help it. The old world blues ran deep in the blood of his people. Always wanted to recreate America the way they thought it was. You and I both know what it really was. I think he knew too, and that’s why he had faith in the Divide. Because it was something new. It held that promise that the old world never had. He could hide in plain sight here, but he never stayed. One day he came back, wearing that armor, with that machine following him, and it was like seeing a ghost. Like his nation never died.

There are still tribes in the West that fear those helmets, say they bring death and destruction. There’s wisdom in that belief. When he and the machine arrived, the ground cracked open, and the weapons buried here burned the Divide in radiation and fire. I can never forgive that.”

“It sounds like he didn’t destroy this place intentionally,” the machine asserted. “That’s more than I can say about everyone else I know. At least he’s trying to find some way to atone for it. I know the destructive type, and Abraxis doesn’t seem like he’s it.”

So he calls himself Abraxis now, no longer the father of nations.

“And where is ‘Abraxis’ now? Haven’t seen you leave his side since he dug you up.”

“He’s in the autodoc,” the machine said, gesturing to the silo behind Ulysses. “One of the knee servos in his armor locked up, and he had to get out of it to fix it. Tunnelers clawed him up pretty bad before we had a chance to react.”

“I’ve been saved by those more than once. Those autodocs are the only good tech your people ever made.”

“Thanks,” the machine said, voice dripping with sarcasm, as he felt for the cigarettes in his pocket.

Ulysses didn’t acknowledge the insult, merely continued. “Seems a fitting atonement for his past, that he should heal himself, only to be mauled again, over and over. Prometheus also bore fire, and his punishment was much the same.”

“I know the myth,” the machine said, “it wasn’t really fire. The fire was a symbol of knowledge. Knowledge mankind shouldn’t have. And I can tell you right now, you may have this obsession with justice, but a lot of the time justice doesn’t happen. You’ve been to Big- the Big Empty. You know that.”

“Was what happened there not justice?” Ulysses asked. “Was that not justice for having knowledge mankind was not meant to have?”

The machine was quiet after that. Seemed to be considering what Ulysses had said, staring at the cigarette he was turning between his fingers. He stopped, looked at the faint stars still painted on his knuckles, and sighed.

Ulysses didn’t question him any more; he seemed to have retreated into his own contemplation. “I’m going to go now,” Ulysses said eventually. “Before the courier returns.”

“I thought you were waiting on him. That you have been for a long time.”

“He and I have our destined meeting. But this is not the place, nor is it the time. He still has more road to walk before then,” Ulysses said over his shoulder.

He watched Ulysses walk away, looked from the flag on his duster to the one painted on the wall of the silo. He stared at it for a long time, unsure how much time had actually passed, before he looked back down at his hands. He dropped the cigarette and went back inside.

#ulysses #sterling #abraxis #fallout new vegas #FNV

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umaleitora · 7 years

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Benaz - Riz MC

You see Things dipped in Benaz's life when Dad crashed his car lost minicab license He picked fights with Ma He'd drink nights at bars Wished he had a son Redundant and drunk Benaz tried stopping from shoving her mum around So now he beats her like it makes him proud The fat lips meant she had to quit Topshop And now they beef and argue nonstop She won't marry some freshie cousin, she's telling him He's only in it for the passport and benefits But Dad doesn't get it or wanna You see He's an immigrant with nothing, so his currency's honor He already promised the relative she would be the bride for his son Her second cousin said it would please her But the young girl doesn't think like the geeza She won't let him shut away her heart like a dealer Mum backed her up and he left it But to him this is worse than death, disrespected So now she doesn't work but she runs domestics Then one day at Tescos who woulda guessed it The self-service checkout wasn't workin' Then, outta nowhere, "Can I help you, ma'am?" Get the hell out It's her first crush from primary school Haven't met since then, but when she smiles he still drools "Long time, no see" "Yeah, the irony" Cool Soon, buying milk and eggs becomes a nightly excuse His name's Akin An orphan, ain't got many friends Suits Benaz, she stays low key in the ends He's not the usual wannabe macho guy with the Benz He's studying optometry, skinny, not hench He examines her green eyes, his heart does breakbeats Smiles are swapped, soon, they find place to creep They walk deep in woods, where grass carpets feet Phone bills grow in the dark, half-asleep It's the real deal, he wanna do it proper Puts on best suit, knocks on door to ask the old codger Akin asks her dad and he makes a little speech But all he gets is a no, like a kick in the teeth 'Cause his grandad's from the wrong tribe or village He's from the wrong subset of the same religion It's not a way to pick for yourself like you're the English "Don't ever try to see her again, this is finished." But love's persistent Benaz and Akin can't resist magnetism She feels so blue, but he soothes the hurt Says they can't stop love and calls her his little Smurf But soon they're seen by boys from the community That go out and fuck white girls with impunity Oh, gee! Misogyny meets old school hypocrisy "What we do is fine, but our women must live honestly." Word spreads, other people's whispers twisted This innocent love into sinful kisses "Control your daughter, what an awful family" "She already backed out of a marriage and now she sleeps with any old boy." Truth is, she's a virgin, yeah But gossip is rarely the true version Hurting the family the name is like losing the life savings So Dad collects payment as bailiff Pounds her flesh, blood speckles all over the loo Words can break bones and turn your eyes blue She zones out, goes numb as he kicks and slaps her She listens to that rained down pitter and patter The same pitiful rhythm of hypocritical chatter From those who call her "whore, slut, bitch" and slap her No matter She has a special concealer for these mornings Applies to eyelids while the violent are yawning Dawn brings a silence, she holds it close She's a lily in its lake and for now, she floats With faith in her heart, she thinks Maybe she should just play a part In some imaginary poets tragic heart 'cause she's not gonna live a half life She cleans pus from her hard eye Smiles in the mirror, decides Her choice either disobey Dad and risk death Or prison jailed in her own home and sit there She thinks, "Yes, I'll run away with Akin." Sends text, wears frown as crown, such a pitiful princess Says "Meet me in the forest if you honestly love me Before dawn comes and the sky's still lovely Dad beat me up again, I want you to hug me We gotta run away, bring clothes and money." 'Cause she knows she's good She's fed up of should She puts on her red hood and rides into the woods [HOOK] If I knew I'd live in shame Just to be near you I would do it all again I would do it all again If I knew I'd feel this pain Just to be near you I would do it all again I would do it all again When she went into the woods that day she was in for a big surprise A bunch of guys from 'round the way Drunk after a rave Spied them both with suitcases running away They'd gotten away Like hyenas fast upon them As if drunk sleazebags must guard her honor Some of them knew her cousin, so they grassed her properly To the family. What Daddy did could pass for horror She lost use of her right eye Eats through a straw Right leg in a plaster at the hospital ward Akin sneaks in to visit her with scars on his jaw From where Benaz's cousin's knuckles waged a war He cries, and he draws a little heart on the plaster Puts a kiss on her eye, tells her now it will heal faster She said "I told doctors that I happened to fall over It's funny you call me Smurf, now I'm blue all over Be strong, my love, and try not to cry And from on don't call me Smurf, you should call me Popeye." He says, "No more jokes. This mess must stop." Convinces her she has to get some help from the cops "I've tried twice when they beatin' me, they heard the screams But Mum says that we don't need police, they turn and leave" But Akin brought a constable with him So Benaz spills the beans in the hospital Sittin' there with her drip and the stitches But it's clear that after six minutes he thinks that she's fibbing Isn't really trusting his witness He says, "The nurse told me that you fell down the stairs Now you're changing your story And though I see that you're scared Your parents are crying It doesn't make sense what you said I can't put you in protection 'cause there's nothin' proven yet Try going to a women's shelter There isn't one nearby? It shut down? Well, sorry, I can't help ya Well, don't try and live with your fella If anyone bothers you over there, well You can just give us a bell, love But it seems to me like you just want a council house Stop wasting police time, please, that's all for now" And as PC Plod is leaving, her family sees him They creep in the ward silently seething Benaz can't control her breathing, knows it's open season now But she's too proud to plead with them Akin asks them to leave That they even came is hard to believe Squares up to her father and grits teeth Uncles and cousin, brothers are ready to rough him up But her mother steps forward, say "No, let's discuss it." "Come home, Benaz. I fought for you once And if you really want this man as your husband Then I'll trust him." Her father apologizes, tries touching her, mumbling His agony for her to move out the way, but she doesn't He says, "Akin, what I did is hard to forgive, I understand But if your heart is as big as she thinks it is Don't make her choose between you and her family." Her mom says, "It's alright, but my child, Benaz don't abandon me Stranded, she feels primeval attraction Her genes hanker for family Sees hope in the old man's defeat She wonders if her mother might collapse if she leaves Breathe deep, says she'll give it a try, at least Akin can't believe it, but he follows her lead Makes peace, shakes hands, an uncomfortable squeeze Benaz's one eye swells up in relief If justice is blind, hope looks with one eye (and leaps) [HOOK] If I knew I'd live in shame Just to be near you I would do it all again I would do it all again If I knew I'd feel this pain Just to be near you I would do it all again I would do it all again She waddles through the door on crutches Rushed in from hospital They promised her the wedding would come quick Dad says, "There's flowers and food to choose, come pick." Her heart throbs She half hops and half runs in But something doesn't quite fit "Why are the curtains shut, Ma, and why don't you sit?" There's an empty suitcase but the handles are ripped White cloth lines the inside, freshly stitched Akin was told to go wait at the mosque with the ring She's home alone, feels the walls closing in He said he'd call her when he gets there but her phone don't ring And in that moment, she knows, her dad planned the whole thing Akin got rushed by her cousins Bottled by the one she wouldn't marry Who wishes that she loved him He tried struggling But seven of them all punching him He bleeds 'til his blood runs thin Eyes shut, lights dim Benaz is on her own again Silence falls Reminds her of dawn Her heart blinks, Mum starts to cry Her mask slips, "How far can I help you, the way you behaved You asked for it." Dad just stares and broods Then he bends down, starts to undo the lace from his shoes Holds them between his fists like an improvised noose Benaz nods and then she lets a fire run loose Swings her crutch far She screams and chucks vase "Fuck you, Fuck your honor, what about my heart?" Her dad's on top of her now and he's blocking her arms He's stopping her from scratching and bottles her hard He's sitting on her leg as she gasps She won't give up 'til the last Legs broken, arms pinned, so she spits on the bastard Blood gathers in her face The pressure presses against The neck and Dad tightens it and mumbles a prayer Knuckles whiten The lace frays That windpipe tries to be brave, but Now not even love can save her Laces tighten around the neck A world darkens Cuts into her flesh As her arteries harden The sound of her mum screaming distorts the laughter The last thing she sees, the weeping face of her father Eyes close And her thoughts drift off as they do To the memory of her daddy tying her shoes By the school gates But now he dumps her dead in a suitcase Buries her in the garden with no mark on the youth's grave They call police, say she just disappeared They plead on T.V. and it's unsolved for years Akin is brain-damaged, sleeps rough on the streets He goes mad like Majnu, I know it's tough to believe But he sleeps on concrete and in the dark he grieves Although he doesn't know why, he can feel his heart bleed When he closes one eye, he can almost half see In his mind is something lost, but he'll never find peace Police find the body in the end They say they're sorry and forced marriage and honor killings must end People say the parents are thugs But they still fuck girls, then judge girls Say they should wear hijabs And soon enough, the cycle restarts So play this to your mates Based on a true story of Benaz Dedicated to her and a hundred other pieces of grass 'Til the end of forever, there are no lasts 'Cause in the corner of some English field Lies the true price of love [HOOK} If I knew I'd live in shame Just to be near you I would do it all again I would do it all again If I knew I'd feel this pain Just to be near you I would do it all again I would do it all again

#riz mc #riz ahmed #music #rap #poetry #poem #lyrics

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immortal-journal · 6 years

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Living With Cavemen

To suffer alone, or to suffer with company - which is better? Frankly, I don’t know. While having somebody to talk to is nice (or grunt to, as the populus tends to do in the current age of cavemen), it can get dull, fast. At first, it was funny to stumble upon the second man on Earth. I had been living for quite some time before I saw another being like me. First, I had to wait for the development of simple-celled plants, which eventually turned into monstrously large, poisonous greens. Next came the animals, fuzzy and deadly. Some of the mammals existing during this time were tame, but even then, I was still hunted by every large predator and their beastly mothers.

So, when I did find something that didn’t want to immediately kill me, I was pleased, to say the least. We stared. This man, if I could even call him that, was disgustingly malformed. His bone structure was… Interesting. His jaw protruded about two inches out from the rest of his face, his back was hunched to the point that I thought it was injured, and not to mention those mangled feet: crooked, dirty, and surely broken at one point. The hair on his head looked like a tangled mass of mammoth fur, and his clothing (or lack thereof), was thinly shredded skin off of some animal. Even though he was ugly, he was still my relative, in some twisted nature.

When we found each other, I assumed there would be some sort of conversation after our small staring-contest, but… Nothing. The cave-dweller stood there, staring, for a complete minute. A minute during our prehistoric existence seemed to last forever. I moved first.

The caveman flinched, but didn't shy away, and instead made a move towards me, as a silent communication to bond with me. I stepped closer, then suddenly, we were nose to nose and I could smell his stinking breath. Awful; he really needed to clean up and I decided that I would help him with that.

I was introduced to his people, the others that were some hybrid of monkeys and humans, and they greeted me fondly. I was fully expecting the lot of them to be savages, uncivilized in their ways, and I was fully wrong. The women boiled and cooked what meat they could, while the men hunted, and the children cried. To see the qualities of one man split up into subsets of other, individualized humans was astonishing. While I survived on my own, entirely independent and void of any assistance, these brethren of mine had a system to ease my own work. I expected to help with our survival, but the monkey-men had forced me to sit, eat, and relax. I dwelled on my current predicament.

It was uplifting to see the world that I had lived on for thousands of years finally create a being like me - a human, flesh and bone, with no scales or feathers or claws to be frightened of. I was no longer alone. I had company that would care for me. Everything seemed optimal for me.

That was, until, I knew of death among humans. I had witnessed the life draining from other animal’s eyes, especially during the mass extinction of dinosaurs, but some ignorant part of me thought that a creature like me would also be brandished with the same immortality.

I witnessed my first human death on a date that is long forgotten. It was a man who was technically considered the leader of a tribe I knew - I wasn't a part of such a group, I refused to join a squadron of ape-men. I called him Knuckle-Dragger, because he quite literally dragged his knuckles across the rocky ground with a hunched back and bent legs. It was only a matter of time before Knuckle-Dragger dug his own grave, with such a misshapen body. A fatal misstep on the unstable mountain sides our houses were built upon on had proven itself to be gruesome and beyond repair. I was shocked, upset, and for the first time, not able to comprehend the impact of the situation. I witnessed this death only a single day after I had met the second man on Earth. I learned the world's brutality and the misery of company.

I also became fed up with the way these men spoke. Urgh. Mmph. Gruh. What kind of speech was that? Assuming that these people had enough of a hive mind to task everybody with a job to do, and do well, I imagined that these cave-dwellers would have a better method of communication. I spoke to the men and they never responded in a way to progress our conversation.

For example, there was an ugly mother that I named Rock Woman, because she was constantly drawing on the walls of our caves, as if somebody would make a great discovery of her art one day. Anyways, I would talk to Rock Woman, simple and slow. “Hello,” is usually what I would say to begin. And Rock Woman, with her stuffy human snout, would moan in response. She would never say hello, much less hold a conversation longer than two grunts.

After meeting Rock Woman, I decided to educate the mongrels of men. They finally learned how to greet each other, at least. Little did I know, my simple lectures would turn into the English lexicon thousands of years into the future. I thank Rock Woman for the inspiration to teach.

Now, I will move onto the savagery of the cave-dwellers. They made simple tools, found fire (after I generously helped with their discovery), and even began to fabricate better clothing; the humans were progressing and giving me hope. But all good things must come to an end. While my people had found fire, they were oblivious to the other hoards of enemy men finding them. Ensue violence, brutality, and death. I figured that with the small community we had built, the men of all different groups would come to the consensus that it's smarter to work together instead of destroying one another, as well as ruining their equipment. I should have expected less from a race as stupid as my own.

After the tribe I squatted with had been almost completely run off or killed, I decided to leave the humans and resort to my sad, quiet life among the birds and the trees, but not before I accomplished a goal of mine. Before I left completely, I spent the night with a woman. The taking of my virginity is a horrid sight to remember, but the feeling was pleasurable. I know why the humans like to do grotesque things to each other - because it feels good. Not just for sex, but for other notions as well. Power over others, the feeling of a fresh game hunt, sex and dominance, the men like to conquer. My first climax with a woman washed an immense wave of raw, carnal instinct over me, and I felt like I had made my mate my own. I think that was the first time I realized what man so desperately craved. Although, even with that knowledge, I still decided to leave the cavemen.

I didn't return for another thirty years, to which I am grateful. While I was gone, it seems that the humans had matured some, and even integrated a system of law and order to a forming society. Their tools got better and soon the early developments of the hammer and screwdriver were made. I was pleased with my fellow men. That's how I discovered pride in others, not just in myself. The population could progress with or without me (even though I did offer amazing advice for the first men on Earth).

I also noticed that these people were forming features similar to mine - lean bodies, smaller jaws, straighter backs. The changes to their bodies were almost insignificant, but I had been so taken aback by their disfigurement the first time that even the slightest of changes caught my eye. I wondered how similar they would look to me within a few hundred years. I never grew or aged, always living in the same body, so I had no clue as to what aging or the harshness of nature would do to their weathered bodies. Something had intrigued me for the first time in a couple thousand years.

I stayed with the humans for a bit longer this time, but I never helped them and they never helped me. I was a silent companion of theirs, I suppose, because they always showed interest in me, yet we never interacted. They really were like the pets I had kept with me for the long years leading up to my discovery of the ape-people. Amusing to watch from afar, pesky to encounter up close, pitiful in most scenarios, but overall, I decided to camp with them and write in my journal most days. I rarely had spoken to them until they developed a limping form of speech and were able to orally communicate with me years later.

One day, I had decided to travel and not waste my years with the cavemen. I finally decided to call them my family - a word they developed - once they had grown enough, but I had no strong emotional attachment to them. A few of them died every week, anyways, either from a terminal illness, a fatal error during hunting, or blatant stupidity from the slowly growing race. A part of me wondered if there were others out in the world that were similar to me (and hopefully smarter than the few tribes I had witnessed for years). I packed my clothes, makeshift toiletries, and off I went.

The journey I embarked on seemed to last for quite a few weeks until I came across another pack of cavemen that weren’t threatening to kill me. If an unacquainted man stumbles into your camp, the chances are he will be beaten and barbequed. While I had been the victim of abuse on some rare occasions, I was, more or less, smart enough to escape any situations of impending doom. (Whatever doom meant for me, anyhow.)

The next community of people I found had darker skin, yet I had no idea of where I was heading at the time. Maps hadn’t existed for thousands upon thousands of years later. These humans were stronger, more resilient, and seemed to have tighter family bonds.

I built my house several miles away from any civilization. Even when I found people who were welcoming, kind, and caring beyond all belief, I still wanted to stay secluded in my home, maybe with a colorful plant to take care of, or a small rodent on the off chance that I was feeling more lonely that year. I ponder my original question: Is it better to suffer alone or suffer with company? It’s hard to answer. I’m lonely and I will admit that, but I see too many deaths for me to stomach. Then some kind of realization washes over me to think that I have to live with this for my whole life, billions of years of suffering, trillions of people I know will die, and I wish with all of my heart that I will one day find somebody with immortality like me.

For now, I choose to suffer alone.

#emily.eng298

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