arenaria | downside

Voice lets her go.

Shell doesn't know how long it's been. She doesn't know where she is. She doesn't know how to get home, or if she has one.

She stands on Voice's doorstep. She blinks slowly at the brightness.

She walks in a random direction.

Downsiders aren't big on charity. It's not like it's going to kill her if she doesn't get help. It's not like she's unfamiliar with the effects of dehydration and hunger; Voice didn't always remember to take good care of the pet in the basement. Shell walks, and when she's tired she lies down on the ground and sleeps, and when she wakes up she walks, and every few days she curls up on the ground, waits to torch from thirst, and then gets up and goes on.

She doesn't count the number of times this happens. It doesn't matter.

She walks. She has nightmares. She walks.

On an unremarkable day on an unremarkable street after unremarkable stretches of years, she feels herself cross a telltale threshold of dizziness and headache: she cannot make significant forward progress towards Not Where She Is Currently Located until she torches or (less likely) someone gives her a lot of water. It's possible she'll be able to sleep through this torch. She sits. She leans on a wall. She should probably pick up the next sharp object she finds. Maybe a piece of broken glass will present itself. Then she can skip these parts.

She sits, and she closes her eyes, and she waits. If the buildings around her would ever have seemed familiar, they don't now.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

arenaria

"Oh," says Shell, and she doesn't so much walk through the door as lean through, like the bar is sunshine and she's a plant, not that Downside has plants.

Her fingertips catch on the edge of the door. "Are you coming?"

From:

finaldiscussion

"I may as well."

From:

arenaria

She holds the door for him, though she's trembling in place like she's holding herself back from hurtling forward and letting it fall back into its frame.

When she doesn't have to hold it anymore to let him by, she does go further into the bar.

But she can't remember what she used to do here - cannot actually call up a memory of being here at all. She only knows that it's safe here.

She turns in place, once she's far enough in to have a view, and drinks in the surroundings.

From:

finaldiscussion

Srat watches her for a moment, then decides that she is probably all right and heads off to get a drink.

From:

arenaria

Shell follows him when he passes her, and watches him order, but she's not hungry or thirsty right now so she doesn't copy him immediately. She wanders past tables, pausing sometimes to turn around and look at everything - the stars, the people, the stairwell, the back door, the people.

No one looks familiar, but they all look like people-who-can-be, even the people who don't look like anyone in Downside.

She must have been here before.

From:

manofmyword

There's a table with a person at it! A person who definitely looks like he can be.

Also, he appears to recognize her.

"Hiya, smarty pants," he says amicably.

From:

arenaria

She blinks at him.

"Did I know you once?" she asks slowly.

From:

manofmyword

"Probably. Which one are you?"

From:

arenaria

"...Which?" she says. "I'm called Shell."

From:

manofmyword

"Are you now," he says, slow and thoughtful. "Where you from, Shell?"

From:

arenaria

"Downside," she says. "I don't remember before that, but I assume I lived somewhere, before I died." She looks around her. "I might not go back, though."

From:

manofmyword

"Why not?"

From:

arenaria

"Oh, well - I might - but - it's not safe there, and I think it's safe here."

From:

manofmyword

"It usually is," he agrees. "What's Downside like?"

From:

arenaria

"It's..." She makes a vague gesture, and sits down at his table. "I never had to explain it before, what do you want to know? Everybody there is dead, there's that."

From:

manofmyword

"Let's start with: what's the danger?"

From:

arenaria

"Torturers," says Shell promptly. "Most of them if you catch their interest just hurt you for a few hours, maybe a day or two, and then let you go, but one kept me for much longer than that and I think that's why I can't remember anything. Even knowing how to fight doesn't do any good, they have this thing called torturers' control, they can make you move however they want unless you're a contractor. The one who kept me for all those years never actually touched me, not once."

She's had decades to process Voice, and while she would be very alarmed if anything about her situation suggested that Voice or anyone Voicelike was about to capture her again, she is not particularly alarmed to be merely describing the history. Not here, where it's safe; not when the door will lead back to her cluttered apartment, also relatively safe.

From:

manofmyword

"I'm sorry," he murmurs sympathetically.

From:

arenaria

"They let me go," Shell says. "And after I walked around for a while I even found someone I met before they got me, and he knew where I resided, so now I can go back there if I want. But I might stay here instead."

Edited Date: 2013-03-08 06:03 pm (UTC)

From:

manofmyword

"Staying here's a good choice," he says. "Somebody I love got killed here once, but that's a special case."

From:

arenaria

"Someone loved me once," sighs Shell dreamily, leaning her face on one hand.

From:

manofmyword

He smiles softly.

"I'll bet they did."

From:

arenaria

"I think so, anyway. I have an apartment. In Downside your house is how much you were mourned when you died. My apartment is little, so it's probably just one person, but it's - nice, so I think they must've loved me a lot. It's got a lot of clutter because I wasn't there to clear it out for, I think Strat said sixty or seventy years, but it's got pretty wallpaper and furniture and stuff. And anyway it's the only thing I remember from before for sure."