Chapter Text
You weren’t sure who came first.
The vessel, or you.
You awoke to an expanse. You were not whole. Surrounding you were other unwhole things, all of them unfinished. You, too, were unfinished. A simple sketch of an idea, not quite as formless as you were… nearly lifeless. To you, this was the end and beginning of everything, for you had known nothing else. You had no concept of any ideas beyond what you were now, which was… somehow… unfinished. ‘Finished’ existed beyond what realm of ‘possibility’ you could inquire. The state of missing something. All you knew was the empty, the unfinished around you, and the you. The you that existed away from them, the other unfinished things in the space.
You weren’t sure who you were.
What you were.
There was something you did know for certain. This, the unfinished place you were in, was not how things were supposed to be. The space was lacking something. There was something important forgotten, or perhaps something… yet untold, that evasive ‘possibility’ you search for.
And the longer you pondered this, the more you became certain: this was not the way you wanted to be. And as you kept on thinking and observing and existing and knowing and trying to remember something missing, something unfinished, woefully, endlessly, out of reach- you began to feel.
(Feel what?)
Unfinished.
(What did it mean? And where did you learn that from? )
To be in a state of missing something.
(Was that what it meant? And where did you learn it from?)
You were missing something.
(What did it mean? What were you missing? And where did you lose it?)
Where did you lose yourself?
(Why did you lose yourself? What were you like? Were you supposed to be like this?)
You weren’t sure. It wasn’t done yet. Everything wasn’t done yet. You weren’t sure when, or how, they could be done. Who was going to finish it? You knew someone would, but who? And why did they leave you unfinished?
There had to be a reason.
(And what was a ‘reason?’ Where did you learn that?)
There was something in your grasp. You tried not to question what that was, either. It felt like everything. It felt like you. You looked down at your hands. There was something there that was…
Finished. (So this was finished.) So this was what finished meant. You weren’t sure how it got there. If it was always there, or if it was meant to be there, or if it had gotten there by accident. You knew it was not supposed to be, that you were supposed to be unfinished. (How did you know you were supposed to be unfinished?) Because no one else was finished.
What made you different?
The finished thing came closer, and you observed it.
(What words could you describe this with?)
Bright.
(What did that mean?)
Like the sun.
(What was a sun?)
You weren’t sure. You tried to think of what a ‘sun’ would look like, but you only knew what this thing was. You flexed your grip about it, and did not like the following sensation. It felt as though you were being held in someone’s palm. That bright finished thing was you, everything that was you, so you should… be ‘careful’.
(... What did that mean?)
You loosened your grip about the Bright Finished Thing. You felt tied to it, in the same way your unfinished everything was tied together. Overlapping lines of lines, criss-crossing and breathing and lying on top. You felt that way about the Bright Thing, but in a way that you could not observe. Imperceptible lines, that were sketched above you and it.
(What would happen if you were not careful?)
You squeezed your palm experimentally. It was an uncomfortable feeling, the sensation mirrored across the unfinished everything you were. It was an uncomfortable feeling that was almost everything, almost overwhelming, and you felt your palm quickly release. You should not do it again. Doing it more would be even more uncomfortable. You did not like it.
Instead, you began to wonder again.
Who or what were the unfinished things around you? What were you? And what were you doing here? What was here? And why were you here? Who brought you here? Why? And how long were you going to be here?
You weren’t sure where you got ‘how long.’ It simply appeared with the rest of the questions. You weren’t sure ‘how long’ meant. But you knew that it was important somehow, and you had learned it somewhere. You just could not remember where. Was that important as well? Remembering where from before, and how long, and why. You didn’t even want to get started with ‘how.’
You were disliking this. You were disliking wondering about it all, and there was so much everything about the thinking that was happening, that you felt very much like you were nothing at all.
(‘Nothing.’ What was that?)
The opposite of everything, wasn’t it? There is… no everything, right? So… there was nothing.
You weren’t sure how to define that either. You looked around yourself, at the space. That was ‘nothing’, wasn’t it? You were in the ‘nothing.’ Were you nothing? You felt like nothing. With all the everything inside of you, you were beginning to feel like… nothing. It was an uncomfortable feeling, next to being unfinished, and it was like you were losing yourself to the space around you, as if you would just fall apart into a thousand blurry, sketchy lines, and then become…
Nothing, nothing at all.
It was uncomfortable. You disliked it.
Then, came the sensation of something. Something new. You felt it travel along your unfinishedness, and you felt yourself move in reaction. Still grasped was that Bright Thing. The Sensation touched the Bright Thing, and you felt-
Fear.
You were afraid. You were afraid. You were afraid. You-
-dropped the Bright Thing, and for a moment (what was that) you (what was happening) thought it may (everything is far away) become nothing. You didn’t want to become nothing. You wanted to be something, to exist, to be different, to be new, to feel, to have sensations happen to you. You were moving to get back your Bright Thing. You needed the Bright, (you were scared) it was Important to You, (you were scared) it was Everything to You, (you were scared) it was not Nothing, it was-
-safe.
You were safe. You felt it moving in your hand, reacting to the scare. You curled around it. What was the thing it was making? The not-nothing? You brought it closer, where it felt better. There was something it was doing. You did not know what it was. It grew bigger, then smaller, then bigger again very quickly, moving on its own. You liked when the Bright was closer to you, it felt nice. It felt safer. Like the ‘sun.’ Whatever that was. You assume that the ‘sun’ was safe and nice and bright.
That was why it was Important. The Bright was important because it needed to be with you, or you would feel uncomfortable and dislike it and be scared. And feel unsafe. Not like the sun. More like nothing.
(New word. ‘Scared.’ You don’t want to feel that way again.)
(Another. ‘Safe.’ You wonder if this is what it is.)
Was there a way to become closer? It would be uncomfortable to lose yourself again. You needed to keep the Bright safe. You looked down at yourself, and felt…
(There was the Sensation again. What was that? How could you describe it? What did it feel like? It was like…)
The sun, wasn’t it? It felt bright and safe and warm.
(‘Warm.’ How did you know ‘warm?’ And what the sun was like?)
You liked warm. You liked bright and safe and warm. You liked the sun. You didn’t know what it looked like, if it was finished, but it seemed right for the Sensation on you. You gazed at it, holding the Bright close. It was different from the rest of the space, from the nothing, and you realized there was another not-nothing on you. A different thing. (A new thing!)
The Sensations were so, so different and new that you just looked at them for some time, perhaps a long time, and felt yourself absorbed into them. You brought them close so they were safe, so you wouldn’t lose them. They were falling off of you, and you wanted to keep all of them, but you couldn’t-despite trying very hard. When they touched the nothingness, they disappeared completely, without a trace.
You touched the Sensations on you, and understood that they were warm-happy-safe and cold-scared-danger .
Maybe. You didn’t really know. You didn’t remember if there was something important about this, just that it was happening.
Another Sensation, another new thing, and you smeared it across yourself.
Curiosity-hope-wonder.
You liked this one.
Soon after, you discovered many, many new things. Beyond those three were contentment-peace-tranquility and impatience-frustration-scared. The latter was strange, a visible mixture of something new and something old. You could tell where it started and began, not quite even in tone or inflection. There were new things that just kept happening to you, and it was all very exciting, until you had finally learned everything about the Sensations, and then there was nothing new at all- except for mixing them together.
So you mixed them all together into a brand new something. Why not? Perhaps you could finish what was unfinished about yourself. You liked this new change about yourself, how different it was from the nothing space, but also how it incorporated every Sensation! You could have all of them without losing one, though you were reluctant to mix in scared-danger-cold, you felt like you weren’t quite whole without it. You smeared and brought it across yourself, watching in awe as it mingled with the not-nothing lines that made you.
(You could have put less in there. It would be fine with a little less.)
You weren’t sure about that. Something felt like you should do just as much as the others. Maybe more would be better.
You reached, and then you were no longer reaching. You were confused-curious-confused.
(You don’t want to do that.)
You… don’t?
(No. You don’t ever wanna be afraid again, you don’t want to feel that disconnect again, you don’t want to feel unsafe-cold-away or everything else, anything else like it. It was… scary. It was afraid-scary-comeback and you disliked it very much. You were afraid.)
You felt yourself recede from the Fear. You watched it happen, the Bright moving in your grasp.
Why?
(Why what?)
Why were you unable to work the same?
(Do what the same?)
Make the same movement. You wanted to still add the Fear. It was as important as the others. You only watched as it didn’t happen, despite your insistence, and the part of you that was resisting slowly gave way to your prodding. Curious-wary-unsure. Slowly, you touched the Fear again, and the unwilling part of you retracted further.
(Why? Fear-separation-cold-hurts-afraid. Why?)
Guilt-apology-confusion. Fear-wariness. It’s whole. It’s to be finished.
(Why not unwhole? Why not unfinished? Was there a reason left unfinished?)
You weren’t sure. But you wanted to be finished. You liked the way it felt. It was happy. It seemed safe to want to be whole, to be finished. You were Bright, and you were Whole, and wasn’t that… happy-safe-content? So why not make yourself? Make yourself Whole?
(Is that really something you can do?)
Why not?
You ran out of Sensations soon after, and were rather disappointed that you couldn’t just finish yourself on the small volume you were given. Perhaps more Sensations would come through, and gradually, you could do that.
Then, there was another Sensation. In fact, a lot of them. One big Sensation, a combination of Sensations, all of them very wonder-awe-curiosity-intrigue-hope that was everything. And then there was a total, finished thing, a blot of stark, bold New against the nothingness of everything, and you were enraptured-amazed-breathless. It looked at you with anger-wrath-aggressivity in its ‘eyes’ and happy-safe-euphoria ‘ teeth’ on a backdrop of nothing-everything-possibility. You wondered if this is what you were supposed to look like, if you were finished. Perhaps you were not supposed to finish yourself yet. You glanced down at the mixture of everything curling along on yourself, but still liked how it was, so you did not feel remorse.
“There you are, you little pest. I’ve been looking all over for you.”
(What is that? What was that thing it just did? How were you able to feel and know what it was doing? What is that… thing it is doing with its body? The movement around the top of it, the… ‘ sound.’ What was sound, and how was it making those? Could you do that, too? How amazing. How wonderful! You loved it. You loved this Thing.)
Lines wrapped around your Bright, which made you feel very confused-wary-curious. You stared at the large Thing, which waited patiently for your reaction. After a total lack of it, the New Thing made a stuttery, low noise and the lines were uncomfortable around your Bright, which made you uncomfortable and a little afraid. You disliked this, and made it known.
“Yeah, duh. I’ve got your soul. Hey, wait, why are you naked? Gyah!!” You were moved away very fast, and a noise fell out of you when you landed in a fold on the ground. From farther away: “Put some clothes on!”
You blinked as it waved at you, and gestured while partly turned away, blocking its pretty wrath-anger-fury . You did not know what ‘clothes’ were, or how to make them, or where or when they were. You conveyed this too, and it lowered itself to move a part of itself at you. Curious, you tried to will yourself to be like it, and felt disappointed when you were not very much as bold or exciting. You did not develop more Sensations on your body, just the same dull nothing outlined by lines. And the swirls of mixed everything you drew along yourself.
The New was moving and swiveling, looking around the nothingness with the two wide wrath-anger-aggressivity spots on its upper half, the wide stretch of happy-euphoria-safe below the two spots curving downward. “Huh. You’re new. I’ve never seen an abomination before it was fully an abomination. You don’t even know what you are, or who you are, yet.”
This was true. Maybe this Thing could do something about it. Would it finish you? It obviously did not make you, because it didn’t know who or what you were. It only just found you now. And you did not remember it. But could it finish you, and make you just as pretty as it was? You conveyed this the best you could, staring up at it as it stepped back and the swishy thing around it moved.
“Huh? You want me to fix you up?”
No, no. You want to be finished. Like it.
“First of all, pest,” was that your name? “No, it’s a nickname, and I’m insulting you with it.” It responded promptly. “Don’t interrupt me.” Alright. “Ugh. Listen, I’m not an it, I’m a he and a him.”
You weren’t sure what a ‘he’ or a ‘him’ was, but you’d probably find out later.
“No, you won’t. And I’m not going to be fixing you, I’m going to destroy you.”
You blinked.
(What does ‘destroy’ mean?)
“… Later, because you’re boring right now.”
You felt curiosity-excitement-hope , looking at him. What did ‘boring’ mean? Was it like being unfinished? You watched as he looked different again, those big wrath eyes on his body changing and widening then growing thin, like lines. So too did his safe teeth, stretching and becoming flat.
“... You don’t even know enough to be scared…”
What is there to know? You don’t feel scared, so there must be nothing to be scared of. You have your Bright right here.
There was something thinking-curious-pondering-planning. You wondered more. You asked him what he was thinking about. You were excited to meet him. You were happy to meet him. No one else was there but you. You looked down at the Bright, still lined with fear-tranquility-terror lines, which you felt him through . You looked up at him again, only to notice he had come slightly closer. His teeth were curving up and up, in a way that you tried to mimic yourself, to see if somehow the euphoria-safety of it could find its way onto you, too. You felt happy-excited-welcoming to see the New Thing closer, how very different and very noisy he was, so much sound and Sensation. You loved the New Thing. You hoped he knew.
And then he stopped.
(Come here. Why did you stop?)
“You’re a little weirdo.” There was a realization-scolding-confusion-defensive sound to him.
( Disappointment-curiosity-beckoning-reaching-confusion? )
“... There isn’t enough of you to be afraid. You don’t know anything at all. You don’t even know that I’m going to hurt you.”
He sounded awed, and it seemed like a happy-excited way, so you felt the same way as well. You watched as he advanced, slowly, as if unaware of it at all. You would move closer, but you couldn’t. His voice got deeper, and there was a tinge of excitement-mania-glee . “I could kill you right now, and you wouldn’t even feel the pain.”
Now that he was closer, you could hear little, smaller sounds under everything he was. Fsshhtt. Fsssssht. You tried to mimic them too, but you couldn’t hear the sounds you were trying to make. You weren’t sure how to mimic them either, just that you wanted them. It was not working.
Discomfort. “... Nah. You would feel it. I could teach you pain.”
You lingered in that space, confused and constricted, looking at him. He looked back, and you felt as though he was looking through you into something else.
“Eh. But that’d be so boring. Not with everything planned for you. Ha, as if that’d do anything.”
You felt the lines loosen around your Bright, and felt relief. Ah, no more discomfort. They were still wrapped about you, though, and you liked it. It was nice- a good contrast from the nothingness. You felt very pretty with them.
“Huh. You… You really are a weird little pest.”
Suddenly, you were moving, standing gracefully. You looked around and wondered if your unfinished surroundings would move as well. But they did not, remaining the silent and still images of what possibilities could have been. You looked into one of them, but they did not look back. There was nothing in them to look back with. Your entire being got tugged along, and you moved to see what was pulling you forward.
“I’ll just keep you for a little bit, and then put you back when I get bored again. I’ve never had an unfinished doll before.”
Was this it? Were you going to be finished? You were learning so many new words and feelings and experiencing so much. You liked this all so much. You love the New Thing. You excitedly stared at him, and he made something back at you. “Yeah, yeah. Shuddup. Who wouldn’t want to be my hostage? No one! Everyone loves being my hostage.” He waited. You blinked. “Nod, idiot.”
You weren’t sure what nodding was, but kept toddling forward as he dragged you along, talking and gesturing and moving around. “Wow. You are completely clueless about literally everything ever. I don’t have the patience for this. I’m going to set you down in front of a TV and then you can learn what basic monster socialization is. Then you will watch Undernovela and learn what real cinema is.”
He glanced back at you, before looking back away. “But first, I’ve got to make you clothes. Mainly pants.”
He sounded happy about it.
“I wonder what would look best on you.”
You weren’t sure, but you were excited to find out with him.