call_me_spooky | x - 0002 [The Beginning]

We seek to persuade ourselves that the fabric of time and space is whole; we speak, if at all, of a tear, as though some fundamental, solid reality has been violated. A wound through which we pass out of our rightful world into some other space, some other time; another world.
And yet, in spite of all evidence to the contrary, we want to believe that this fabric is tightly-woven and in and of itself, inviolate. This place makes me wonder, though; are there cracks through which we've slipped, somehow passing in between the warp and the woof into this City? Perhaps the weave is not so fine; stories, images, lives trickle from one to another, distorted and reflected, as we've fallen through into this one.

My name is Fox Mulder. I ended up here yesterday, and I've already been told I'm stuck. So... Might as well get the practical stuff dealt with-- I need a place to live. Couch is fine if no one's got an extra bedroom. I don't take up much space since I've got nothing with me. Happy to start paying my share of rent once I get a job. I don't mind rooming with people who think I'm fictional, provided you promise to be gentle with the existential crises.

Which, uh, brings me to the other matter. I guess I'm probably going to apply to join the police here, and they'd like a couple of letters of reference if it's possible. Which I guess, under the circumstances, it might be. So, does anyone want to recommend me to them? Only the nice stuff, please.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

My point is, how dead and gone can you really be, if you're here?

Wait, hold on. You're saying you're a god?

Shall I let you shove your hand into my wound, or feel the cold rigidness of my flesh? Perhaps the lack of heart beat. I am dead.

Was, human, but yes.

Ugh. Thanks, no... I'm trying to quit. You know. The wound-feeling thing. Sorry. But tell me-- was this what you expected from the afterlife?

And, well, on that topic, I didn't know gods died.

Afterlife? I expected to die after taking that woman's head. Yet things are not as they are planned.

As you said, everything dies, even those who are immortal.

So you expected you'd just, what, stop existing? You don't seem pleased to be proven wrong.

What reason have I to be pleased? Although I've claimed a part of the forest, it is not mine, and you humans are worse here than back at home.

I don't know... Most people don't seem to like the idea that after death there's just-- nothing. That you don't endure in some fashion. Nearly every culture has some myth, some belief, some fantasy about what happens once the heart stops beating. I guess I'm surprised that you'd be disappointed to find that there is something.

What's so bad about us, anyway?

I endure, for a time, through my sons and daughters. Shishi Gami gave me my life, and it was his to take away. This... this is not something. This is some joke. Neither life or death, for both should not coexist together.

[a laugh]

Your greed knows no bounds. Take and take, never hearing the cry of the forest, for nothing is ever enough for your kind.

Edited 2008-10-08 06:26 (UTC)

Well that I'll give you, though I'm not sure I'd call it a joke.

[Muttered] very Pocahontas... All right, that's a valid complaint. We get it a lot. Are people really worse here, though?

You'll find death changes some perceptions.

Worse? You are all over... Your stench is everywhere.

Fair enough, though I hope I don't find out too soon.

Now that's not nice. I showered yesterday, it can't be that bad.

You'll find the city might be more than happy to show you sooner than you expect.

[a sarcastic laugh] Do not speak about nice to me, human, for your kind killed me and my forest.

x - 0002 [The Beginning]

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[Voice] || awww Moro y u gotta be hatin? xP

[Voice] || everyone needs to have a hobby~ ^__~

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[Voice] || Mulder has a new hobby: antagonizing gods. /faceplant

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