"Look what you've allowed!" The Admiral roars, though not as large in size it trails behind The General like a blazing monster, "You have brought this unto the boy!"
The General frowns at the report. The body flashing red with dizziness and an interchanging hot and cold within. From it's knowledge of the world, this could mean one thing.
But it would not like to accept that yet. If it can fight it, it will try.
"The boy will perservere." It mumbles weakly.
"The boy will suffer," The Admiral tuts, "Any and all minor pleasures were not worth the daft consequences in the world right now. He will now endure and we will all have to pray and work hard he makes it out on top."
"He always does." The General closes it's eyes, and more so says those words towards heaven than believing them.
"You have little faith and poor responsibility. It's I who should stand in the tower with him and hold your title. For if I was The General, agony would not have a place in his life."
"Is that a fact?" The General wonders outloud.
The Admiral, feet below it, raises it's chin high, "You've grown soft, General. You have lost your foot hold. The threads you have rewoven the I with have lost their strength. Perhaps you should consider a succsesor very soon, for his sake."
It turns on it's heel and leaves The General to it's own thoughts in the darkness. Report in it's claws, does it hold the stack documents as though they were burning coals.
There is a heaviness on it's heart, as it wonders if The Admiral's words are true. Not because of the insults, but because of it's concern for the boy.
It rests it's claws over it's eyes, disappointedly it sighs, "Oh, child. Why hadn't I worked harder? What could I have possibly wrought?"
I've got to stop staying up so late, imagining you in reality. I just need to go out there and find you, or make you. But I make you all the time, here in my head. You're poetry here, and artistic device. But I think you're also obscuring my atanomy, making me think I have to wait for you when I can get what I want. I'm going to be 22 this year, I'm tired of waiting. My own world is in my hands. I need to go outside this window.
I need to get up and go into the world and just meet a guy. No more dreams.
Though, you are a delight to see when I fall asleep, at least that's nice.
From now on, there is no you. But for when there is, I hope when you read my letters, or poems, or even this reddit post; we can laugh about it.
So until then, hypothetical guy, these words aren't for you anymore. No use in writing to someone who isn't going to recieve it.
In 2015~ The General was first born from Rage as an adversary to the I. The General was a grotosque terrorist. It is infamous for the day The Boy was mutilated into the fountain in the square. The General was persued by The Mercenary from that day forth until she had severed it in half, and imprisoned it's torso. The General was to bare witness to the wonders of I. In 2017 it's first performance was Psychodelicate with the boy, and from then pledged it's loyalty to protect the I instead of harm it.
Terror is a creation born from Bile, animated by The General. It was a passive threat until The General joined the I, and from then became aggressive. It lurked in the sewers of I for a long time. It is infamous for attacking The Boy and taking his left eye, leaving the diamond shaped scar we all know today. It was persued by The General after, and put into prison, though it's influence could still be felt. After being in chains for so long, Terror had become docile, and it's influence was replaced.
The General's Shadow is born from The General's doubts and fears. It has risen during it's weakest time, and taken advantage of TG. Casting it from it's tower, TGS had taken TG's monstrocity and cursed it to be human. TGS is infamous for a short time of misery where it had overtaken the I (or an important city at least) and TG's court. Once defeated by TG, the shadow disintegrated into the lake.
Despair lake formed after TGS's sad defeat. It is a pitch black lake, that reflects a mirror clone of the boy that looks much more sad. Despair lake was a harmless shadow, but it did corrode the shoreline and bother the sewers.
The Admiral was created by The General and animated by The Boy, it was to be TG's son and succsesor. It was training and learning to be a good asset to the I and a loved denizen. The Admiral did not agree with TG's lax ways. When it came time to get rid of Despair Lake, TA betrayed the I and absorbed the shadow instead of getting rid of it. TA declared itself the new shadow of I, and made base in the lake for a long time. It was harmless, but hurtful.
The General forgo'd it's monstrocity to spare The Admiral of having to be the shadow anymore. TG was presumed dead for a day and returned human. There are no shadows over the I right now (Aug 22), at least, not in the traditional sense.
"The ibris I, no longer a red torn sky
Scorn escaped by the scleras of an eye
Bleed onto day while iris' shrines rye
For this is the scunter of devils have died."
The General hisses out of it's open mouth, breath shallow, from it's chest suspended by metal staples. It has been a pillar for cobwebs in this shack for so long, a dinner table for moths. The poetics of I float through the wind, between the cracks in the wood and to it's open ears. Begrudgingly, it listens to the flowery, convoluted words spoken by denizens.
People of I speak like feathers, soft and dusty. Good for nothing other than to lift fowl and fall to the ground. They open their mouths to spit petals than to eat meat. For if the General had teeth, it would gnaw skin, bone and fat. It would learn to devour and destroy and tear apart. It would bite the nails out of it's arms and it's chest, and crawl all the way to the spire and chew the boy's head off his neck, once and for all.
The General moves it's mouth, open and closed, imagining the quiet clicking of teeth.
Click.
It's eyes open at the sound.
The Mercenary of I is a decieving being, truely benevolent when all is said and done. Her oil slick form saps all the light in a world ruled by the sun, shimmering with the kaelidescope she lacks. Her circular shapes are a trick, how they hide her sharp edges. Behind the line of her mouth, there is rows of teeth. Barracks of spears jutting out her gums all for the taking.
Clack clack.
The General works it's jaw while she speaks, "That's another time I've heard you do poetry."
The General stares wordlessly at the Mercy of I, it's mouth a downward cresent. The Mercy floats inside and effortlessly slides the gargantuan barn door closed behind her. Her claws gleam in the sun's rays before they are gone again. The indirect light barely reveals her shadowy form. She floats into the spotlight, feet before The General, and settles down.
Her sigh is heavy before she speaks again, "I've been sent by the boy to inform you that your execution has been.. veto'd."
The General knew this, for if it had been true, it would have already disappeared. Still it hangs here, framed theatrically by sunlight and cast with dramatic shadows. Perfectly captured.
It's frown turns upside down, but the Mercy continues, "Yeah, I figured you could tell, but this isn't without collateral*. He doesn't expect you to come back the way you were, nor by his own hand. It has to just happen."
The corners of The General's smile sink to it's chin again. The Mercy's implication is harrowing. The I does nothing that is not by the boys will alone, it is the easiest gear of the world. The General knows it is an exception, this is it's uniqueness. Uncontrollable, natural, emotional. As easy as the boy could pick up a pencil, could The General easily tear him asunder.
The Mercy is implying the boy wants it.. to voluntarily become a part of the I. To want to redeem itself.
"Jovial," It's hoarse voice whispers underneath The Mercy's hearing.
She continues, "He's coming here to put you back together and take you to the I himself, and then we'll.. see what happens next."
She scratches behind her long ear. The boy has obviously not elaborated on any of his plans, and only asked The Mercy to tell it the beginning. What happens after the boy arrives is a secret to even her.
The General is grateful it's spine is incomplete at the moment, to conceal the shudder it feels. The boy is unstable, and emotionally weak. His feelings take him to the darkest end of the tunnel and slaughter him there. But his true power is undeniable. He is the writer, and the artist. Whatever he wills will be made or destroyed.
For if The General had that power, it would make the I as it should be. A strong world that does not cower, or submit to anxieties. Fearless, confident and cruel.. this is how the I should be. Absolute control. The image of that world in its mind makes it smile.
The Mercy's eyes narrow, "Do you have anything to say about this?"
It remains silent.
"Of course," She sighs, "Okay, we'll be back tomorrow. Rest terribley, please."
Tomorrow. Time is not the same outside the I. Tomorrow could be eternity for The General, or even a second. No matter how long it takes for tomorrow to happen, it awaits eagerly. For the boy to come and rip it's staples off the wall, so it can show him how it feels to be torn in half.
I can't believe you still listen to his words
He's my brother, of course ill listen
Out of obligation or truth?!
Can't it be both? Yeah because of blood but also because i just do. i do trust him
depite everything?
especially because of everything
even the second hand consequences? how he has corroded your heart and your own perception of romance. how you will never trust any of his lovers in fear they will check out the hotel as quickly as he had brought them in?
i cant deny what all that.. observing has done. how i feel now. yeah, i still burn with anger when i think about how i might never be able to really like one of his girlfriends. but i already told him that, and hes already sorry
but it never stops
hes changing, i swear. its jus so small you dont think it counts. mercy always tells me something is better than nothing and you believe that too
small with all this time. he never learns from the last one. how many women will it take? how many times will his world be destroyed? how many revelations and epiphanes does he need to realize then forget for it to finally settle in? how many more car conversations and journal entries? how many more reciepts? how many more nicknames?
stop! stop! i get it! it piles and piles to almost unforgivable amounts but thats just your standards okay?? its not your life!
i see what it does to you. ive felt what its done. i may be retired, but i still live here. this is about keeping you, my home, safe; happy. even your brother is not spared my mercy. not with a pain this old and corrosive. im getting tired, and you should be too
.. im done being tired with it, i jus wanna be there for him now.
always here, always there. there isnt anywhere you wont be for your brother, and yet, where is he? hello, youve reached nine one four three eight two, eight two seven two?
youre such a dick now, i wish you never learned empathy to weaponize it against me
i use it to become closer to you than ive ever been before. do not change the subject and answer me
im not upset my brother has a life. one of us needs it, and he does better with it so i want him to have it. i wont be the bitch baby little brother and cry when hes not home. im.. better than that. besides, ill have to get used to it soon enough
lets digress from all of that and focus on the matter that is you needing to be less forgiving to your brother for how his "dating" has affected you.
youre the only one upset about that, even mercy is trying to understand it all from his eyes. cant you empathize with him?
no.
damn, you didnt even think about it
im tired of the way it hurts you, and for all your teething over how your friend isnt mad enough, you are now hypocritical
i jus dont think nando deserves the brunt of my anger when ive already expressed it, and he needs someone listening to him instead of parents constantly asking about his ex girlfriend. who hes dating, how long hes seeing her, if shes gonna last long, when hes gonna stop, whens he gonna be serious.
...
youre quiet
i only admire your loyalty
what? no arguement there?
no. i know youre very familiar of when someone is fighting the world and simply needs companionship.
i am trans.
... im only ever worried this will all be for naught, and he will never return the effort. youve seen how he dishes it out
me n his dates are not the same. and didnt you see him break up w fizai for you? basically?
i felt he did it for the idea of me.
i think he meant he agreed with your whole protocol of protecting me, yknow?
either way, my concern stands. i feel constantly that your scales are uneven. it pains me to see, and feel
i wont lie, i get my doubts sometimes. its low days, and its mama and papa in my ear. but when the days over i definetly trust nando more than anyone cause.. idk who else to. he knows this facet of me, and i came out to him. and he supports me
yes, that was it
wh-what?
do you feel he supports you because he truely sees you as a man? or because it is the morally right thing to do? this does not only pertain to your gender
yknow, hearing you finally ask that question outloud has made me find the answer and its no. i think hes honest and true. i think he supports me because he wants to see me happy n succeed. he cant always be home because hes busy, and we get our friction but thats what brothers do. we've been knocking heads since i could walk okay? i really believe that
very well...
... so no more arguements?
no more.
have we come to like.. an agreement here? that youll stop ragging on my brother as much?
i will not stop my onslaught until i see a substantial change in his ways. until you feel it
yeah i figured as much. someones gotta hold him by the neck i guess, and of course id be you. arent you retired?
you are an endless job
yeah, you both have that in common. why dont you go talk to him about it lol
---
nothing ever changes
permenant homeostasis
--
I won't recite anything under a blue light
No reason to give it any mind or even lift a page
I won't stand on this stage, not for this
my rewound body is better than sitting on a stool reciting poetry to a fool who has nothing better to do that assume the use of a tool
ive got better things to sing than to cringe at a flegling who rings around housings every evening for a quick fling.
the worth of my time can't be worse than his curse that only women experience the adverse hurt of when their hearts burst
so when you're done with your fun maybe the boy will know youre just someone and not the one, that ill finally won that a big brother can be outdone.
youre out of luck, you ungrateful thunderstruck fuck.