Vicious blinked. "Four? Already? That's… actually impressive. I only have my Flame Throw spell and I just unlocked a racial skill. Were you in a guild by any chance… I'm sorry, I forgot to ask your name."
"And I forgot to give it. I'm 24601-01. My name is Ruin."
He opened his mouth as if to say something else but paused. His two companions looked at each other and I felt my stomach sink.
"When you say your name is Ruin," Vicious asked cautiously. "Do you mean that Ruin?"
I rubbed the back of neck, not meeting his gaze and said, "Well…"
"YOU!" I winced as someone's voice rang out. "You! Know you!"
Chapter Seven: Seriously?
I looked over at Taren and said, "Hey look. Someone else who hates me for something I didn't do. You have a friend!"
I turned back to Vicious and his group, only to find them several paces away from where they had been just a few seconds ago.
"Hey! What happened to sticking together?"
They didn't answer other than to back away further.
I rubbed the skin just under my horns and groaned under my breath. "Not this again."
When I looked back up I saw the rest of the group coming closer, not looking at all friendly.
"Uhhh, hey guys!" I said, determinedly cheerful.
"We don't want you here!" Spat an Elf, his long, almost antenna like ears were common to Neon Elves and they almost seemed to quiver with rage.
With a heroic effort of will, I refrained from pointing this out, knowing it would only make him more angry.
"Did you know your ears tremble when you're angry?"
No! Bad Ruin! Bad! Now he has that "I'm embarrassed and I'm going to turn it into anger" face!
As I was thinking this, others added their own comments, saying things like "You're nothing but trouble." or "We don't need people like you here."
Aeria tried to defend me, Taren reluctantly did so as well. But they were shouted down.
The group started getting louder, moving closer, pulling out weapons, readying spells and I tried to be as nonthreatening as possible.
The Centaurs looked nervous and unsure about to do. They didn't know me. Didn't know why the others were acting this way.
And it was all happening so fast. At first they were just angry, wanting a target and I was caught off guard at how quickly things had escalated. I expected more from Subadults, though I don’t know why.
They surrounded me, even as they yelled how they wanted me gone.
Then they started using insults, words that were designed to hurt. Things a child would do before they were taught conflict resolution in preschool.
It was shocking to hear Subadults using such uncreative insults. They implied I was metally deficient, described my physical appearance as inferior and said I had no value as a person. That I was worthless, useless, unwanted. They said it would be better if I were dead and that I should just end my own life.
That's what hate does. It fills our hearts, pumps it through our veins. Puts strength into our muscles, blinds our minds with determination. Denies the very ideas of logic and compassion.
I was no exception to this, though I didn’t hate them. I hated how everyone blamed me. Hated the small spark of doubt that told me I could be responsible. A spark that was fanned into a blaze as they encircled me, trapped me.
I told myself to remain calm, that it wasn’t me they hated. It was the injustice they had endured. I was just a convenient target.
I just need to rise above their -
Then someone threw a dagger at my face.
I saw it coming at the last instant and jerked back half a step. That half step kept the blade out of my eye but its handle hit me so hard I was sure it cracked my cheek bone.
- or. I could rip open their minds, show them their fears, drag them down to drown in their tears.
The sudden silence that followed the loud crack of metal against bone broke with the laugh that abruptly burst from me.
It made them take several steps back and I laughed louder as something in the rising sound pushed them farther away.
They watched me with growing trepidation, the weight of their hate slowly giving way to fear.
The seed of hate is fertil in fear but my blood was pumping, adrenaline rushing and the urge to break, crush, destroy everything and everyone in my path surged through me like a screaming freight train.
I would obliterate their previous fears, and shove the fear of me so far down their throats they'd excrete so much fertilizer they wouldn’t be able to move.
I bit the laugh off with a snap of my teeth and grinned around at everyone. They backed up even more.
I was done holding back. Done and done and done.
It was shock and awe and pants wetting time!
I raised my hands, palm up and claws curled, pushing magic into my Bounce spell. Not as a sudden burst but as a growing constant burn.
I started laughing again as I lifted into the air, a few inches, then a foot, then almost four feet high and stayed there.
And as I rose in the air I spoke.
"ALRRRIGHT!" My voice was filled with a barely contained brutal delight that edged between growls and giggles. "THE PEOPLE HAVE SPOKEN! ALLOW ME TO INTRODUCE MYSELF! MY NAME IS RUIN! RUIN THE HEARTLESS!"
I burned my spirit all the way down until it scraped the bottom of my soul and when the magic ran dry, I dropped to the ground.
Hitting the earth with a flourishing bow and straightening up into a showman's "welcome to the circus" twirl.
“YOU MANY HAVE HEARD OF ME!”
Then, I spoke quietly, so quietly that the circle of people who had been edging away from me just a second ago had to lean forward to hear me.
My voice had a tendency to erratically rise and lower in pitch when I got worked up. Running hand in hand through the spectrum of emotions. Up to high hysterical glee, to a fervent relishing whisper and down to deep guttering menace.
I learned that people either found this amusing or terrifying, depending on the circumstances. So I usually made an effort to keep it in check. But not today.
Hey, maybe not ever again.
"You know what's funny? What's really funny? What's funny, is that we escaped the Overseers of the Grey Hell and the Punishers from the Outside.
"We endured them, survived them, escaped them and yet here they are. In our minds and in our hearts. And here you all are, spewing their words out into this world.
“The words of the Overseers. Those who told us we unwanted, because we weren't smart enough or good enough. You speak the words of the media who called the Runaways worthless. You speak the words of parents who claimed their Throwaways were useless. Your words are the words of Punishers calling Lockaways a waste, an inconvenience and undesirable."
I stopped talking and in the shocked silence I looked at each and every one of them. While they refused to meet my gaze.
I laughed a laugh that was so raw, so broken and shattered, that any happiness it could of held would have drained away. The bright joy that should of been in that sound was burned away. Until all that was left was the taste of ashes on my tongue.
The ache of a too wide grin cut across my face as I strolled around the inside of the circle.
Clawed fingers flexing, feet light and almost skipping, I twisted their insults into verbal crowbars and used them to smash open their psyches.
That ugly instinct to find the insecurities of others erupted from me. Like a beast in my mind ripping out of my skin, it hunted those insecurities down. It caught them and feasted on their pain to fuel its own rage.
I chattered cheerfully without thought, without any plan of attack. Jabbing at hidden hurts and scratching at buried pain until tempers almost snapped and hearts, not quite, broke. All the while grinning and laughing and dodging the occasional swing.
I knew they might attack me but if they did, it wouldn't be together. It would be as individuals, too upset to fight properly. Too uncoordinated
to fight cohesively.
I was confident I could kill them all before they killed me. Or kill enough of them until they backed off.
"Shut up!" Dash shouted at me, his voice shaking with fury. "We have a right to be angry! Don't turn this back on us!"
My laugh, ugly and bitter, twisted through my words as I said, “You’ve decided to blame someone, someone who's suffered just as much as you, because they’re a convenient target. Sounds a little heartless to me.”
“That's not what this is! We - “
"The word of an Overseer." I interrupted him. Derision and disgust flooding my voice as I said the words.
The phrase had become common in the Grey Hell and was synonymous with untruths and gullibility.
Unless you were newly arrived to the Grey Hell or gullible, everyone worked on the "distrust and verify" principal when it came to Overseers. Because believing what an Overseer told you could get you hurt.
"You all decided that since an Overseer said something then it must be true? Really? Because we all know an Overseer would never lie to us out of spite, right? Never lie just to hurt you... or use you? To get a little extra money? Or like the Punishers, just to have a little fun?"
That cut him down real quick, because he knew, everyone knew, I was right.
He flushed and opened his mouth to say something but a sudden sob interrupted him.
I looked over to see Savage drop her crossbow and hide her face with her hands. She started shaking and it wasn't with anger or frustration.
She was crying with deep, wretched sobs of heartbreaking pain.
Dash picked up the weapon. Glaring at me, real hate in his eyes as he led the crying girl away.
And just like that, the sight of someone breaking down, someone I barely knew but kinda liked, snapped me out of my anger.
I didn't really want to hurt anyone. Okay, I did but not like…
I made a sound of disgust, the feeling aimed at myself this time as I gestured to the two retreating forms.
"And that is what happens when we resort to insults. We lash out and insult someone, we hurt them, we push them down and they push back. Back and forth with nothing happening except..." I gestered again in the direction Savage had gone.
Vicious came up to me and stood with his face inches away from my own. He was so close I thought I could smell his anger as he said, "You are a horrible person."
I raised my arms above my head in a V shape and pointed down at Vicious. "See? Then it's just insults, back and forth, over and over again! A waste of time and energy that, in the end, does absolutely nothing productive!"
"I don't know for sure," Vicious hissed quietly so that only I could hear. "But I'm pretty sure you triggered her."
I put my arms down and my smile felt twisted and pained as I said, "She's not the only one. Or did you think getting surrounded, trapped, threatened by people with weapons would provoke reasonable response from me?"
Vicious was about to reply when Savage came stomping back into the circle of people. The evidence of her tears was still evident but the look in her eyes made that completely irrelevant.
She shoved Vicious to the side so roughly he stumbled a few steps. Then she stood directly in front of me.
For a few seconds she just gazed up at me, determination, not sadness or even anger in her reddened eyes.
"I'm sorry." Pain etched the smile on my face even as guilt tried to pull it down. "Dredging up your pain wasn't my goal. If I will make you feel better to hit me, hurt me - "
"No." The word held such a mangled mass of emotion it was more of a defiant growl than an actual word.
She took a deep breath and tried again. "No, no more hurting. And I don't need an apology, I don't want an apology."
She stepped back and glared around her, raising her voice she said, "I want everyone to remember. Remember what was said to Ruin. Remember what others said. Remember how you did nothing to stop it. I want you to remember, so that if you ever see anyone, anyone else do the same to another, you will not let it pass. You will stand up, say something, and do something. Because every time you don't, you let the Overseers and the Punishers win."
Then, without another word, she turned and started down the road. Several long seconds later the rest followed in silence.
I didn't want to follow. I wanted to go into the woods, find the biggest, strongest Nilum and kill it.
"I wonder if this is how Five feels all the time," I asked myself in a quiet voice.
Then I reluctantly followed.
I messed up. I knew it. I gave in to the instinct to lash out. The only excuse I had was self defense.
It had looked like the mob mentality was taking over and they were seconds away from sending me to respawn.
Or maybe permadeath.
I didn't have to let fear and frustration force my hand to judo chop them where it hurt it most. It was just the three years of holding back, of holding it all in.
The things I would have done to the 024 Facility would of made Cross Creek look like a bonfire. The urge to create chaos and havoc, had been a strain to restrain.
It was no wonder I let the urge slip, even if, it was only the slightest bit.
If this had happened to Three, he would of done something to shock them out of it, then resolved the situation with cold hard logic.
I'd done the first part but not the second. He would of made the situation better, when I had just made it worse. Because that's who I am. I don't fix things, I break things. Even when I try not to.
I wasn't trying to make excuses for my actions. I was explaining them. Excuses were to shift blame. Explanations involved acknowledging when you were wrong and deciding how to fix it.
And I was.
Wrong that was. Not fixing it. I didn’t know how to fix it.
And by the way, yes, I know judo chop isn't a real thing. Not in traditional sport judo anyway. Combat judo has striking moves though, right?
Wait, where was I? Oh right. Self flagellation.
Aeria came up to walk beside me and asked, "Hey, are you, um, busy?"
"Oh, yes. Super busy. I'm right in the middle of a pity party the voices in my head are throwing me. It's just the three of us. Me, myself and I. But it's getting boring so I'm looking for any excuse to bail. What's up?"
She shrugged nervously and said, "Just that… you got pretty scary back there. I wanted to see if you're okay."
I looked at her, confused. “Why?”
“Because… that's what people do to be nice?”
“Oh, right. Sorry. Sometimes I forget people do that. I’m not really used to it.” I sighed. I had been doing that a lot lately, sighing. "I messed up. I may as well of insulted them with vulgarity."
She smiled softly at me. "I don't think you could ever be that uncreative. So you messed up. It happens. You know the rules. If you make a mistake, fix it if you can and don't do it again."
I shrugged, then nodded, then frowned, then shook my head.
Aeria sighed. Okay, maybe we had all been sighing a lot more lately.
It was then that I noticed David watching and listening.
The Centaurs had all kept their distance during our little… altercation. I guess they decided to treat the whole thing as a personal matter that happened to be taking place in public.
David looked a little unsure, as if he wasn't sure whether or not to ask me something.
In the end he said, "I have noticed that all of the Fallen consider direct or indirect insults to be… taboo?"
Huh. I wasn’t expecting him to ask about that.
Aeria and I looked at each other, both of us unsure of how to go about explaining moral hygiene. It was a cultural thing. Well, a subcultural thing, since it was unique to Subadults.
I had an image of trying to explain oral hygiene to a caveman.
"Hi! I'm a time traveller who completely disregards the concept of causality! I'm going to teach you about keeping your teeth clean. Why? It's much healthier for you!"
<
br /> (Explains oral hygiene, exactly why it should be done and all the benefits of doing so.)
"Grug understand. Grug no care. You froo froo man. Grug no care because whatever. It not make much difference anyway."
"But Grug!"
"Whatever froo froo man. Whatever."
I decided to give it my best shot anyway.
“It's about taking responsibility for your intentions and actions . Lowering yourself to insult another is a shortcut. It lets you resolve your anger, frustration or distress quickly by making that person a target. It's quicker, but like all shortcuts, there is a trade off. It discourages empathy and logical reasoning. It encourages you to jump to conclusions regarding the motivations of others and to disregard others as individuals with their own difficulties.
"’To deliberately harm another's heart, is to plant the seed of weakness within your own. The more harm done, the more that weakness grows, the more it spreads. Until your heart becomes so riddled with it, that the urge to hurt, to harm, is the only thing holding your heart together.’”
Aeria eyed me. "That was almost poetic."
"Yeah, well. Four said it," I admitted. "My Chains fourth I mean."
"Ah. The world makes sense again. Oh, uh, no offense."
I waved it away, "Unintended insult without malicious intent. Got it."
Aeria turned back to David and said, "We deliberately insult each other because we feel angry, frustrated or upset and lash out to vent our feelings. Another reason is to bully others because we’re insecure. We step on another's feelings to make ourselves feel bigger, to feel more in control, more powerful or superior. We do this even though it shows our own weakness to any who are willing to look."
David frowned and he said, "But you can't let someone get away with insulting you. If they push you, you have to push back. Teach them not to mess with you."
Aeria raised her eyebrows and asked, "And after you're done insulting each other, is anybody walking away thinking, 'Well, I've certainly learned not to push them around.' or do they walk away thinking, 'I hate that person!'"
"Probably the latter," he admitted. "But still…"
David had that skeptical caveman expression on his face.
I looked at Aeria, she looked at me. I guessed that meant it was my turn again.
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