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Slink gazes intently at the reflection that meets her inside of her cup of coffee. She sees brown eyes peering from behind a striped fringe of cream and brown, whiskers protruding from her upper lip, which are doing work of their own to cover her fangs. Sometimes she wonders if people see a Monster before they see a Desi woman these days? If they see a woman at all?
Today is not an anniversary of hers, but that doesn't stop Slink’s mind going to this place in any time of idle. She remembers her sister, she knew her as something else, but Denise was the name she chose. Slink might be a Ferret NOW, but it took her time to get there, her sister knew since she could walk. One day Slink walks into the living room and her 3-year-old sister is suddenly a Weasel.
Slink used to have a romanticised idea of how remembering a loved one you lost would go, she imagined hoisting her head into the sky, as anecdotes and recollections would swell into her mind. Instead, all she can recall are the words she spoke that spelt her sister's doom, back when she was a human, even if she didn't know it at the time.
"It's just one or two bad eggs posting on social media, nothing to worry about"
"You're overreacting, I'm sure they didn't mean adult women like you on the NHS"
"Oh, teachers don't read those manuals anyways, I think trans kids are gonna be fine!"
Words which ring a sickening hollow tone, when you're wrapping your arms around your sister's cold body, after they untangled her from the electrical cord that bound her to the rafters. Crying out for forgiveness from whatever cruel divinity has acquiesced to taking her sister away, it was during this time when their whiskers first came in, then the claws and finally the tail. She couldn't even comprehend the physical pain, while enduring the emotional. Even as her body came apart and put itself back together again, she pleaded for forgiveness and relief, hoping something would receive her cries.
But it was not enough.
Mere minutes later, The London Incident would occur and her life as a soldier, fighting against the very thing that birthed the rhetoric which took her sister away, would begin. Three years of fighting with the Monster Community Project (MCP) as an agent, before finally being assigned a team and meeting with who are now her closest comrades. They fought together, cried together and even mourned their fallen together. She got to look the very Humans that told her sister her life was not worth living in the eyes; the radfems, the conservatives, the fascists, and feel the very moment that life itself left their bodies. But their struggle and sacrifices, they were worth something! The county they fought in: Essex, was now Monster controlled and the rest of Normal Island followed. Surely to be a part of something so huge would satiate the guilt and ache in her chest.
But it was not enough.
These are the details of her life she's been able to wrestle back from a second great nationwide amnesiac event, there was one after The London Incident and another after what is believed to be a result of an attack from Nyarlathotep, a colossal being above Humans, above High Fantasy Creatures and even above the Angels. But to even know that, speaks of the outcome of the attack, for Old Ones there is no greater death then to be known and comprehended, this is evidence that we must've won. Somehow, this knowledge doesn't live in the same places as... Well knowledge, as something read, learnt. This is a memory, one that's just out of her grasp, but is there to be not recalled in the first place. Was... Was she present for it? She remembers melting into the very soil itself, looking into the eyes of their comrades as the very floor and skies twist and bare fangs. Hmmmm sounds deeply traumatizing, probably a good thing she can't remember it. To have been there to kill a god of Law.
But it was not enough.
A part of the collective amnesia, however, includes any possible insight into what compelled her to move to Nottingham. But she can't help but assume the fact that her comrades have all wounded up here too, one way or another, must've had something to do with it. Her old squad, they agreed to get together to help with remembering their lives during the war. Cos while the Monsters who are still around are able to advocate for their existence, same can't be said for those we lost during this period we now struggle to remember. We can't let that happen to her, we owe her that.
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Eventually, Slink makes her way to the meeting place, a Tapas bar on Broad street which takes Tapas very seriously. It's called "Women only want one thing", alluding to the argument that a lack of Tapas places is a feminist issue, because women want it, so no one provides it. She remembers this is something Butters felt VERY strongly about, even during the war, but the specifics of their argument escape her right now, because she's normal and retaining information like that means something important gets forgotten. Speaking of, she can spot the distinctive dry denim jacket of the Grey Squirrel right now as she's walking up, sitting in the outside seating area with their other comrades. Melees, a badger sits in the same leather jacket with gilet sleeves she's had since Slink has known her, she was the mage of the squad you could say, utilizing her drumming skills to harness kinetic energy for offence and healing. Under her arm is a Skunk, Mephis, who while she was not a part of the squad, she was their correspondent with the MCP until she was de-selected, free from her obligations she and Melees started dating, it's sweet to see that lasted post-war. Beside them is Ereth, a porcupine who only joined the squad for a grand total of One fight, but it was maybe the most dramatic and traumatic fight of their service, you can't discount a bond forged under such circumstances.
And missing among them, is Slide. She was a Kamaitachi who Slink had known even before their squad was formed, she was a damn good fighter who was determined to make her double denim fashion sense catch on. To her credit, everyone's kind of rocking that look now, she would take complete credit for that. In fact that's how the group begins to reminisce about her memory, recalling every time a young faggot would walk by, rocking the double denim, she would lean in to us and say "You're welcome." Like she was doing the queer community a great service by existing.
―I still remember the time you snapped, Melees. Butters recounts. Then you gave her like a dead ass hour long lecture about the history of all the people who popularized double denim before she was even born.
―Yeah, and you know what that cunt said to me!? Melees replies. She says "Rip to them, but I succeeded where they failed clearly." Like where does she get off?
―I mean... Come on though, did you really think that a detailed argument like yours would break the delusion? Asks Ereth.
―I made a little diagram and everything. Melees sulks. I thought it'd make her stop.
―Babe, why did you make a little diagram? Mephis asks. Is this the kind of stuff you did before I was here to go "Hey... No."
―Less the diagrams, but the spending an exhausting amount of time getting wound up about things? Butters elaborates. Yes, absolutely, they were all about that.
―I see how it is. Melees protests. Gang up on the one who can still defend herself. Biassed.
Everyone at the table laughed at the absurdity of her argument, but a small sobering silence covers the table as they all recall why they're even heard today. Even after a year, it still hurts to comprehend it, even in jest. She's dead. Slide, our friend is dead. And today, she's still dead. And tomorrow she'll continue to be dead.
―Hey. Slink says, breaking the silence. If she was still here, what do you think she'd be doing to qualify for her UBI? (Universal Basic Income). Do you think she'd still be an MCP agent?
―Absolutely not. Butters answers. I think we're the only two cunts here stupid enough to have tried to keep that going, Slink. No no no she said what she was gonna do when she quit.
―Right! Yes, she was gonna be a postie! Ereth replies, clicking her fingers at Butters. Pretty good gig for a Kamaitari innit?
―But would they have let her? Asks Melees. Don't they have a clause on jobs like that, so it's not completely overran by Monsters who can fly or have super speed?
―They have a mandatory time requirement, not a quota to hit but a quota to intentionally miss on purpose. Explains Mephis. You need to deliver mail at a leisurely pace or you get a caution, so she'd of still gotten it! Just would need to use her legs.
―That's mad, do they monitor your pedometer or summant? Asks Butters.
―No I think it's just a trust system. Replies Mephis. Some Monsters prob break it, but the idea is to keep a career path open for Monsters who just really fucking love walking.
―And being naked in the rain. Ereth adds.
―Wearing shorts. Corrects Slink.
―Yeah they should, I agree! Ereth replies, missing the point.
The other Monsters laugh, as discussions get more lively about Slide's hypothetical post-war life. It was at times a painful thing to theorize, but there was a feeling of comfort knowing her memory was being kept alive.
―Big one here. Butters announces, slamming the table with their paws. Would she still be a cis woman?
Slink tenses up, these are thoughts she could do with maintaining distance from, possibly forever and ever.
―I don't think it's cool to speculate the dead’s gender identity like that, Butters. Slink says, in a cold tone.
―Nah, it's up to the living to do exactly that, and who better than us, who knew her the best? Argues Melees, missing or intentionally ignoring Slink's tone. If I'm secretly giving off closeted trans vibes, I'm hoping you lot will let everyone know long after my dumbass is in the dirt.
―Why? Are you having the case of The Genders right now? Asks Butters.
―No, I feel like a woman right now. Replies Melees. But like maybe i'm just really stupid? How would I know?
Mephis runs her paw through Melees hair like "You beautiful but profoundly stupid woman, I love you."
―Well... Utters Ereth.
The entire table turns to stare at the Porcupine intensely. This causes Ereth to stutter and play with the spines in her hair nervously. After a little pause she speaks up again.
―I mean, I dunno I've been having The Genders lately.
The entire table begins to grin from ear to ear like "Go ooooonnn" not understanding it just makes saying anything more literally impossible for the poor girl.
―The Genders like hhooowwww...? Butters prods.
―Like, okay, now i'm feeling like it's not gonna meet your expectations of: A Big Fucking Deal now! Ereth protests.
―Aaaaah, we're only fucking with you! Melees reassures.
―Yeah, speak your mind. We're here for you. Butters reiterated warmly.
―Well, I don't think I'm a dude or like notta binny or anything like that! Ereth explains. Just like, I'm less a Woman and more of a Woman-like thing. You feel me? Like what's the next one down the notch from Woman? Like your pinky toe is in the pool of Not Woman? I'm like there in Trans Town right now.
―Hey, least you're claiming transness, so we can skip that convo. Butters explains. But I totally get you and that's a big win for me not being the only one here.
―Oh issit? Well I'm happy for YOU, about MY coming out. Ereth jests. Must be a big day for you.
―I mean, feeling like that doesn't mean you're trans right? Slink comments.
The entire table's gazes now fixate on Slink, with a tone that can only be described as "You're in a safe space to speak your mind. But the content of said mind concerns me."
―Well uhhhh I mean we all probably get feelings like that right? Slink enquires.
Butters leans back and gestures to Melees and Mephis, like "The cis women can take this over."
―I mean do we feel our identity as women get taken away from us because of what we are? Absolutely. Melees begins. Both in being a Monster and Black.
Butters nods in that cringey and condescending "My white ass is LISTENING" way.
―But my identity as a woman never comes in question because of that. Finishes Melees.
―Like no matter how much i've felt that pull I've never waived in knowing I was a woman. Mephis continues. It is very not cisgender of you to be thinking that.
―Yeah but... No, come one. Protests Slink. You had to have had thoughts like this sometime, like it's normal. Especially you Melees don't you use They/She? Oh god, that felt wrong and cringey as it came out of my mouth I'm so sorry.
Melee waves their hand and chuckles, knowing to be patient as Slink is clearly going through something right now. After a brief awkward lull, focus returns to Ereth, hypothesising if Girl-Thing can be a real gender identity, with the Porcupine ready to start arranging the meet-up and designing the flag now. Slink meanwhile fades into the background of the conversation. It clearly has hit a nerve for her.
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Slink stays outside to finish her cigarette, long after the rest of the party has gone inside the bar to escape the encroaching night's chill. Mourning is hard, mourning is... Long. That's about all the philosophy Slink's mind can muster right now. It's just so long, living, still being here, it's so long. She doesn't have any thoughts about leaving, but it doesn't make surviving any less long.
Butters peers outside with two Long Island Ice Teas and brings them over to the Ferret and lights up a ciggy of their own.
―Do you ever think about if they still call it Long Island over there? Butters asks. Or if there's been a Monster uprising in the US as well and it's now called Long Boy World or something?
Slink gives a slightly annoyed look towards Butters.
―Of course not, cos you're normal and only I would think that haha. Shut up Butters, shut up Butters. Repeats Butters to themselves.
Slink gives a little chuckle as they pick up their cocktail and gives it a little sip.
―Soooo, are we gonna talk about what happened earlier? Asks Butters.
―Well, why don't you all tell me. Slinks replies, putting out the put of their cigarette in the ashtray. Since it seems like you've all already made up your minds about who I am.
―Actually, I was hoping you would tell me. Butters requests, leaning forward in their seat.
Slink sighs heavily, she knows this is gonna hurt. The lump in her throat has travelled to it's peak, even thinking of saying the words.
―I'm sitting here, I GET to sit here and think. Slink begins. Wondering if maybe I'm "Woman, but a little bit." Like, I'm excited to get the trans badge for feeling the bare fucking minimum.
Slink looks Butters in the eyes, the tears have already started falling.
―But Denise… Butters she was fully a trans woman. No, I think or theorising about it. And I let her die. She's gone, and I'm still here, and I get to cosplay having trans thoughts that she had the entire time.
Slinks expression turns into laughter, it's the only way she can cope with the emotions she's feeling.
―It's like a sick joke, it's so fucking cruel...
Butters is pulling double time on the facial Olympics not to join Slink in her tears. Despite their shaky breath, they manage to reply:
―If Denise was still around Slink, you know she wouldn't be repeating those things to you, she'd encourage you to explore them she'd be so hyped her sister was having The Genders too.
Butters reaches out their arm and grabs Slink but her paws. Slink braces herself, it's gonna hurt so fucking much, and every wall that's stopping her from sobbing uncontrollably will crumble at once.
―You did everything you could.
But it was not enough.