it's a metaphor for consumerism, i think

Ending 2/3

Artemy was so very aware there was something wrong with his friend.

It's as if every day it got worse. As if he didn't have enough to worry about- The plague, the children he had to take care of, the entire nonsense with Oyun and what he did.. And even then, there's this character that just wouldn't leave him alone. And it's not that he wanted them to- Artemy cared deeply for his Mara. Loved them, even. Even if he gave them a name that meant what it meant, he felt nothing but warmth when he thought of them. Yet.. he can't stop thinking about it.

He can't see their Lines.

To be fair, you're not supposed to see the lines like you can see someone's clothes. You can feel it, trace them with your fingers, that's how you know what ails someone and where to cut them. The lines are integral to a human's being, and Mara.. just..

Well it was weird. He could tell that the Lines were there , they angle and spread much like blood vessels and all. He could personally attest that Mara could bleed . But it was like they were all wrong, like they were tangled up into a big ball, and every time he'd try to read them they'd shift and shudder so that he couldn't quite focus his eyes on one particular path. Yet still, their Lines functioned like the Lines should. They interconnected theirs with others, they'd bond, they'd be, but something about it was just all wrong .

And he'd like to repeat what he said to them about how it made him feel, how being around them felt like a warm blanket on a day that was just too hot for it- yet you're so comfortable that you don't want to kick it off- because that's exactly how he still felt. He wanted to be around them so desperately, even when all they'd cause was trouble, because they were friends . But every time he looked at them he still couldn't see their lines . And though it was pathetic that he felt this way, he still had to concede that it freaked him out. But telling them again wouldn't change anything, it wouldn't get rid of the fear, it wouldn't get rid of the drop in his stomach whenever they'd look at him for too long.

He wished it could be different, he did. But there was nothing either of them could do.

And then there was that whole thing with what happened yesterday. He'd torn Dankovsky a new one for that- to so very clearly take advantage of their wild obsession for his own selfish means. He doubted that a word of what he was saying even got through to the pompous prick. He'd heard from Lara the extent of which those commands given from an obsession could have been executed, and frankly Artemy was glad that the outcome had been so tame . The implications of stopping time within a building were of course.. not the greatest, but someone could have died . They could have died, and the worst part is that Artemy wagered they would've been happy to do it too.

He didn't even know why he was thinking about all of this now- he should be thinking about other things, especially with what happened last night. He had something important to do, but he was busy thinking about his friend? He didn't understand at all. Maybe he should get his mind back on track, and get the Inquisitor's papers in order. Fulfill her final wish and all.

Something told him that there was a reason he was thinking about them now, and that this task would not be as clear-cut as he was hoping it would be.

-+-

ACT 3, SCENE 1

The dull thunk of my paddle hitting the boat is the only thing that breaks the silence of the lake I'm traversing.


Death sits in front of me, head tipping from side to side with every swish of my paddle in the water.