#Akagi very much enjoyed his “vacation” as it were

[okami-zero]

More Dawntrail Ramblings

And while this is only...mildly spoiler-y for the...mid to second half of things, I will put a readmore for spoiler avoidance.

So, this is very much a ramble, and honestly nothing earth-shattering, but I found the focus on memory in the latter half of things was very similar in some ways to what we learn with Wuk Lamat during the feats hosted by the Yok Huy, and their belief around how no one is ever truly dead, so long as they are remembered. This echoes/is based on real world cultural beliefs (I recall reading about them in Mexico, but they are likely more widespread, I am sure) that are very similar, linking remembrance and death and how they are related, etc.

The thing that has ping-ponged around in my brainbox is how the efforts of Preservation created the Endless from their own memories (and likely memories of others who knew them), and is kind of like the Yok Huy's beliefs. But at the same time, it is very different and... kind of hollow. Because the people who would be remembering those they lost are bereft of that ability, indeed having those memories just removed POOF! As if their loved ones never existed. Though people close to the deceased retain some small shadow of recollection - "I had two parents, but I don't remember their names or what they were like" - I find this to be the Regulators's most insidious function. We do meet at least one person who seems to retain a little bit more than most about their long dead parent, and we find out that people who do not have Regulators when they die remain in the memories of those they knew and loved. But for those hooked into the system, them simply vanish "into the cloud". And THAT is a phrase that knocked me for a loop, because I have worked in and adjacent to IT and was kind of horrifed that people's very memories and essence were being shunted into cloud data storage (and it kind of was, too. O.o)

But the thing that niggled at me the whole time I am running through the MSQ is how very close, and yet how so very FAR from the Yok Huy tradition the whole system is (not even getting into souls as a commodity, me and Akagi almost BSOD'd learning about that whole deal). Because, instead of those who loved and knew and cared for these people being able to remember them, they are robbed of the ability, which is then given over to basically giant fucking storage servers. To be "remembered" by machines. And recreated as a facsimiles of themself based on their (and I assume, others stoeln) memories. It's a broken mirror reflection of the Yok Huy traditions and a very interesting point to present.

And I have seen people going "oh we killed all those Endless, we committed mass murder"! Bestie, they were already dead. Those are all ghosts - quite literally ghosts in a machine. (Which is not the exact meaning of that phrase, but you get it). "But okami," you might say, "they were living and walking around and experiencing joy and wonder and life!"

Were they, though?

Imagine someone dies before they turn, say, 15. If they had a Regulator, not only do they vanish from the lives of everyone who knew them, they are now, if recreated as an Endless, eternally a child. Never aging, never growing up, never maturing. They are locked in that state, and while it looks like there can be experiences in Living Memory, it's not really life. That kind is now forever a kid, and their existence is now tied to that state forever. And we even meet some Endless who are very much unsure of whether they are really happy with their lot, because they are locked in stasis, basically. Yes, we did reunite that one fellow with his childhood love, and he was able to propose to her, as he had been unable to do in life, which was honestly one of my favorite quests. So there is SOME change, but... it's kind of like a pseudo-afterlife that is materially unsustainable. That would exist at the cost of other worlds and lives. Sacrificing the living to preserve the dead. And possibly create EVEN MORE ENDLESS, which would exacerbate the issue even further. All the sustain a stagnant amusement park full of ghosts.

So yea, this whole ramble to say that Living Memory's terminals juxtaposed with the Yok Huy sepulchres was really neat, and Living Memory and Spehene's existence was so very, very sad. And I am really enjoying Dawntrail.

Also...

DID ANYONE ELSE NOTICE AZEM'S SYMBOL POP UP OVER THE TOP OF THE KEY?! CAUSE I SURE DID!!! AND I WAS BOUNCING IN MY SEAT!

[mortalshinobi]

Memory of Scars - chapter 9 - reason

next chapter of the reixshinji fanfic. enjoy!

The lights blare, the dull red over the emergency room an irritant. The blue haired woman seems to stare after it as if in a trance, eyes quivering as she shakes. There is a long nasty looking rash on her arm from where it scraped along the hard earth, tearing away the upper skin layer, but she doesn’t seem to notice it, simply holding the baby close against her chest. It seeming none the worse for wear, fast and sound asleep against its mother’s chest, oblivious to what is happening around it. It isn’t merely here, thinks Ritsuko, as the young woman had been this way the entire way down to the hospital, quiet and almost alien, like a living doll that is functioning only on the barest of operations. Even when the authorities had come to question her, she’d been nearly robotic in her response, her eyes looking off into the distance. Or so it seemed, but Ritsuko noticed them, noticed how they followed as Suzuhara’s body was lifted into the stretcher and then driven away. How she barely seemed to listen to the authorities who were asking her questions.  It managed to take away a lot of the heat from Ritsuko herself. Of which she was grateful, though she didn’t much care for having to have driven the woman to the hospital with her, just staring blankly out the front window, no longer seeming to respond to outer stimuli. Such a thing... it just really bugs her. Ritsuko turns away, unable to stand the sight for much longer.  Her hand instinctively goes towards her pack of cigarettes before slowly pushing them back into her pockets. Now is not the time to be indulging in such lowly substances, especially when a man’s life is on the line due to her negligence. She bites down on her lower lip. If only she’d been able to hit Ayaanmi instead she’d have been able to cover this up as a nonissue but then that Suzuhara got in the way. Why did he... “Dr. Akagi,” says the woman almost robotically. “Why... why did Suzuhara ... save me?” Ritsuko looks towards Ayanami, her own words voiced by the doll like figure before her. She shakes her head, sighing. She wonders really how much she has in common with this ... machine like creature? Still though... with nothing better to do, she chooses to answer the woman. “Honestly?” she says. “I haven’t a clue. People do things out of guilt or human nature and there may not be much more to it than that.” “Is that why?” she says, her voice quivering, showing more humanity than Ritsuko is used to hearing from the woman. “He took my place... because of back ... then? Because of the accident? Th-then.... is Suzuhara going to die!? Die like I did back then?!” The sudden break in that sterile emotion as the young woman nearly shouts those words, eyes wide and quivering as tears tremble at the edges of her eyes, is so sudden it catches Ritsuko off guard. It’s very... human. Too much for her to feel comfortable with it, having always thought of her as a machine rather than a person.  She turns away, unable to handle the image. “I don’t know.  The doctors are doing the best they can and we’ll... just have to wait and see.” Eyes narrow as the child in the woman’s lap begins to stir, beginning to cry and the doll begins to try to comfort the thing. Ritsuko rises, deciding she wants that smoke after all.  She never could handle children.

********

Her breathing is heavy in his ears, the struggle to move on her legs as if unbalanced from lack of use seems to be staggering and taking a serious toll on Ayanami.  Her body trembles, shaking violently against his arms as she leans against a wall for support.  He stares, worried before she nods that she is alright and he heads back down for the wheel chair, having to figure out a method to bring it up the stairs, folding it up and then unfolding it so that Ayanami has a more simple time heading to the apartment. For once, he wishes they were all on a lower level than being on the third floor as they are. As he unfolds the chair and moves to help Ayanami, slinging her arm over his shoulder, he hears her whisper, “I’m sorry... Ikari... for being... such a burden.” He pauses as he places her back on the seat, thinking on her words and on his past actions, on his own negligence towards a woman who has his wife’s face and tries her all to fill a role the other vacated.  How could he have been so selfish to ignore that? To be angry at her for not being good enough?!  She’s not the one who is a burden, if anything... he is! He just wishes it hadn’t taken mixing another woman into his life to see that! “Ikari....?” she ask quietly. “Don’t say that!” he says through a trembling voice. She stares with wide eyes as she looks on him. His eyes water as he looks towards this woman which bares the face of his dead wife. A woman who thinks she is her and bears her memories. And like the other, this one will try her hardest to fill that role.  Something it has taken him too long to see. Ayanami is not here anymore... but that spirit she always carried, that still is. Even with this one before him. It’s time he face that and acknowledge the woman before him. “Don’t say that. You’re not a burden!” “Ikari....” “I’m... sorry... I’m sorry I haven’t been there. I should have supported you more! Done better! I’m sorry I’m just such a damned idiot that I can’t do things right! I’m sorry!” Tears stream down his eyes and he doesn’t know how to stop them. He’s been a complete fuck up, done things he shouldn’t have and let things get to a point where there’s no going back. What kind of man is he to have let it get this bad?  Ayanami would be so disappointed with him. She’d... A soft hand caresses his cheek, warm red eyes looking upon his features with a soft smile. “You’re not an idiot, Ikari.  You are my husband and have always been there for me when I needed it most. That... is all that matters.” Why? Why is she saying these things? Why does she remind him so... of her? Unable to cope anymore, he collapses on her being, arms wrapping around her waist as he begins to sob, burying his face in this woman’s lap. And through it all, she shushes him quietly, fingers running through his hair, slowly stroking his head.  Why, he thinks. Why did it take him so long to realize... what he always wanted was still here all along?

******

She sucks in a haze of the sweet tasting nicotine, taking it into her lungs and blowing out a mouthful of sickly smoke from her lungs.  She watches the sickly gray haze fill the air above her, eyes dreary and tired. This act, taking these small rods of nicotine and taking them into her body has always helped her relax. To calm frayed nerves and shattered senses and make all her troubles go away. It really.. Is the best. Or so she’d like to think. An itch in the back of her throat, a tickle in her neck and a fit of coughing takes her, doubling the woman over. Her throat burns and thrums with the continued coughing, trying to expel the poisonous substances from her body.  Her body shakes and shudders with pain and she leans back, letting the cigarette butt slip from between shaky fingers and simply laughs quietly, looking at the darkening red sky. Even this, which should be her relaxation, is taken from her. It really is all too fitting. First with Shinji questioning Rei’s validity, then bringing out a woman.... who she’d thought would be a replica of that ... doll, one that should be unable to function on its own only for the damned girl to wake up and spit on all her studies and theorems. Add to that what Shinji said and she let herself get on edge and try to take it out on the other “Rei” only to hit Suzuhara instead. And now... this.  She really is so fucked. But... isn’t he right? Wasn’t Shinji right to accuse her for all those things? She should have known, should have been aware, but she ignored it. Ignored it, because she thought she was getting back at Yui every time she cut into one of those clones and all she was doing... all she was doing was murdering and hurting people with their own thoughts and feelings. Really, what kind of monster is she? She looks down at the still bright head of the cigarette between her fingers and glares at the thing, all sense of tranquility from it now gone. Her foot comes down on the cigarette, grinding it into the earth.  That’s it, she really is a monster.  Even so... she has her responsibilities. Her debts to pay. Starting by informing Shinji of the current situation. She slips the phone out of her pocket and dials Shinji’s number, listening to the machine hum with its annoying tone before a soft sniffling voice answers. She sighs. She really doesn’t want to hurt him anymore, but he needs to know. “Shinji....” she starts, freezing her heart as the words spill out. “You need to get down to the hospital. Suzuhara has been in an accident.” She hears as the man’s voice stiffens and thinks to herself, this is simply one more cut across Yui’s arm. One more cut to prove that she herself is a monster.