#but staying Stuck in that feeling is selfish and unhelpful and honestly looking away from all the hope there still is

[nicollekidman]

abby, sorry to get extremely real on a friday night but like how do you deal with feelings of environmental existentialism (for lack of a better term) that you may have. It feels like it's hit especially hard this week and I'm sure Tuesday is a factor in that but I do not enjoy the feeling, at 28, of time accelerating into an uncertain but generally unpleasant singularity, actually

i love this question because this is one of the biggest fears of my life because of my debilitating fear of death and yknow my general love for being alive and the people on this planet. the short term direct answer is that i often don't deal at all. i often feel sharp pain and edge into true panic until i distract myself, and looking at my weather app often makes me choke.

but the larger answer is that it's actually our responsibility not to (over)indulge in climate grief. we are not speeding headfirst, heedless and uncontrolled into a singularity. the trends are not good, the damage is making itself known, but things are never hopeless. there are thousands and thousands of human beings who have dedicated their lives to studying, remedying, and speaking out about the damage done to our climate. and there are solutions. there are breakthroughs every single day! succumbing to depressive existentialism is not only not helpful, but does actually ignore a lot of the progress that is being made! things are dire and have been dire but they are NOT hopeless.

i find that these feelings hit hardest when i have been the most isolated, and that they piggyback on feelings of despondency about other things i see going Wrong in the world (and there is a lot!). but everything is connected. finding ways to spend time with others, spend time outdoors, use your voice/money for Action (whether protesting, volunteering, working, even just having conversations with others), all these things ease the emotional burden. recognizing that everything feels #unprecedented because we are more connected to global information than any other time in history while simultaneously becoming increasingly isolated and individualized helps ground the feelings in context in a way i find helpful.

climate grief is inexorable from grief over genocide, capitalism, racism, misogyny.... everything is connected. and just as we have the privilege and responsibility of never giving into the urge to hide away from any of the other things, taking action and feeling connected to community around you makes fighting these things feel possible.

being alive is SUCH a gift and whatever the future holds is never a guarantee, even if the climate was exactly the same as it was when you were born. we are only given so much time, and the best way to experience literally anything other than terror and rage (i have found) is just to move outside my own self a little. to take a deep breath and sink my toes into the earth and try to remember there are so so so many people making both incremental and massive change every day, and that giving up on someone you love before they die is never the right choice. we can always do something, and/or amplify those who are.

and sometimes? it's a simple as calling it quits on the scrolling and just creating something, even just. cooking. or watering a houseplant. or closing your eyes and singing as loud as you can while crying. you know?

(if i remember tomorrow i will link some pieces about dealing with climate grief/hope, because it actually does help that everyone who works in the field is absolutely uniform in saying outlandish extenstial dread is not a useful space to live in)

[cloudbattrolls]

The Woods, Interrupted

Running from Rhyssa hadn’t lasted long.

Rather, it had apparently lasted a week or so after fleeing from her the first time, during which they’d apparently they’d suppressed the memory of the encounter. Unhelpful in practice, though at least for once their brain had tried to do them a favor. 

Sadly it had all come rushing back in a jolt of pure adrenaline as they had attempted to book it from her swarms of wasps, tearing through branches and becoming riddled with splinters for their trouble.

They looked up at her now from a pile of leaves they’d collapsed on, too weary to run more. God, they could drain a whole person dry right now and have room for several pints of another. Their head rested on their knees as they huddled over.

“What do you want.” the worm drinker groaned.

She looked at them (or did she look? She still wore that bandanna over her eyes, and a hat on her head that would’ve shaded her view, yet clearly she could see somehow) and knelt down next to them.

Every part of them ached, worms protesting from hunger and disappointment that the woman next to them was anything but prey. Their clothes were damp and dirty from nights in the forest and they wanted to go home.

Home. There was no home, not anymore.

Their cavern would never be theirs again, and they wandered for a reason: after leaving OLSC, staying in one place too long was just asking for the empire to snatch them up a third time.

“I just wanna talk, honey. Ain’t you even a little curious about what we got in common?”

Tuuya looked away from her, ears down and twitching in irritation.

“No. Bugger off. Just because we’re both made of bloodsucking parasites doesn’t mean we’re going to be friends.”

Or siblings.

The freshly remembered word cut through their head like a rusty knife, slow pain mixed with disbelief. It couldn’t be true; they’d never seen Rhyssa before in their life. Their worm was artificial anyway, a product of their ancestor’s science; if her wasps were (god forbid) natural, there was no way they could be related.

She clicked her tongue in disapproval.

“Well dang, you treat everyone who wants to get to know you this way? Doesn’t seem like much of a way to make pals.”

“I don’t associate with other undead.” They snapped, plucking off a leaf stuck one of their horn tines and crunching it up in their hands with rather more malice than it deserved. “You make for terrible company.”

They thought of Tiijah and brushed the thought aside. They hadn’t spoken with her in ages, nor Shiver, or Matcha. They’d probably never see that ridiculous mediculler boy again either. None of them counted.

Besides, did the fool think they’d somehow forgotten about her town? Perhaps she’d been doing it so long she’d forgotten it was messed up to make people your willing blood bags, but Tuuya was all too aware. Their dozen cavern trolls had been bad enough, let alone a couple hundred people who were clearly only the latest of what had probably been thousands over the sweeps.

Rhyssa laughed, and if they’d had any more energy than it took to keep their face out of the dirt, they’d have hurled another smoke bomb at her out of spite.

“Well, who in tarnation do you shoot the shit with? Living trolls are fine for a wheeze and all, but you turn around and they’re dead or ascended or too old to have fun with anymore.”

The worm monster scowled as they looked back at her, hoping they were staring directly into her eyes. Arrogant prick.

“Here’s a thought: why don’t you leave me alone, and I leave you alone, and we both forget this ever happened.”

Hardly. But figuring out how to kill her and deal with her brainwashed horde would take time.

She sat properly and bit her lip as if considering it, then shook her head.

“Back in my town, did you think you were protecting my folks? You thought I was gonna drain them dry?”

They snorted.

“I didn’t know what you were going to do, I just knew I didn’t like it. We have nothing more to discuss, because if you haven’t noticed, I hate you. Have a terrible night.”

“Why?” She said, blunt and frustrated, hands spread out in what was probably meant to be a placating gesture. “Look - sorry for ripping at ya before, I didn’t realize you were my kind. Thought you were one of the little wriggler drinkers, trying to swipe blood. I woulda never done that if I’d known.”

They closed their eyes, giving a hard sigh in irritation.

“Thanks. That changes nothing. Goodbye.”

It was difficult to tell what she was thinking, but the woman shifted, hands crunching leaves in her fists as the weak moonlight filtering through the treetops.

“You don’t even care about who you are?”

“I find my life much improved by behaving like I’m a person instead of a disgusting hell swarm. Weird take, I know, but that’s why you and I have zero common ground and never will.”

She parted her lips and wasps flew out. The worm monster flinched back, and Rhyssa smiled and put a finger to her mouth.

The insects flew around before settling on Tuuya’s arms, faceted eyes gleaming as their antennae twitched. The younger drinker went rigid, expecting pain.

“Well? If you’re going to attack me, get it over with.” They half-snapped, a quaver to their voice as their bright jade pupils flitted back and forth between the white creatures and Rhyssa’s face.

“Hush up a moment and listen.”

They felt the buzz more than heard it. It spread through them like a wave of electricity, not painful, instead oddly invigorating. Every part of their body vibrated from the wasps’ noise, their worms yearning to come out, to...communicate, somehow.

Instinctually, they cut the back of their hand and released the pale invertebrates. The creatures wriggled up their arms, their shoulders - and the wasps didn’t hurt them.

They fluttered around the worms delicately, lightly brushing them with their wings...almost as if with affection. The worms docilely waved in the air as if to track the insects’ progress, even though they had no eyes.

Tuuya looked up to see Rhyssa grinning even wider.

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?” 

Her voice was all innocence.

“Smiling. It’s annoying.”

“Nah, you ain’t gonna ruin this. I knew it. I knew you were the real worm. I always hoped you’d survived somehow...I was right.”

The jade rolled their eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about and care less. Their reactions don’t speak for me. I have a troll thinkpan, even if the rest of me is them.”

Yet despite their dry words, the drinker felt a sense of recognition. It was nothing they could explain. Alternian Standard didn’t have the language for it, for a sensation that went beyond the five senses, a flickering of belonging that was alien and yet terrifyingly familiar.

Why? Why did they feel that way?

“That doesn’t make a lick of sense, sweetie. They are you. Can’t you feel it? Even if you don’t remember - ”

They snapped to attention, eyes narrowed.

“Don’t remember what?”

Rhyssa waved a hand in a gesture that tried to be casually dismissive but failed as her wrist trembled a little.

“Nothin’, sugar cube, don’t fret about that right now.”

They retracted their worms back into their body and folded their arms.

“Does this have anything to do with whatever you called me when you first saw me? That was a name, wasn’t it?”

Hlayos, or so it had sounded like. It had been kind of hard to hear precisely when they’d been trying to put themself back together from those godawful stingers.

The woman sighed and blew air out of her dead lungs, running her fingers through the grass.

“Look, I don’t wanna go into all that just yet, okay? I still need to figure out what I’m gonna do. This is great, but...”

The wavy-haired undead leaned back as Rhyssa trailed off wistfully, apparently staring into space. Their mouth pulled into displeased slash and their ears angled likewise.

“Can I go, then? Without you sending your horrid beasts after me?”

She sniffed in a way that indicated Tuuya had been rude, which honestly was the funniest thing they’d heard all night.

“Whatcha in such a hurry for anyway?”

“Oh, I’ve got a meeting with the empress and her personal tea server.” They remarked, snide. “If I’m late I have to dance the macarena and wear mittens on my horns.”

Claire’s forest wasn’t too far from this one, now that they remembered where they were. Selfish as it was, all they wanted right now was a hot cup of her own hivemade tea and to hear Irisma and Moelle play, or Talula shriek in delight as she stacked blocks. Maybe they could listen to Elziah and Aduya practice their music, ask Wueyah to show them her art, or - not that they’d ever admit it - toss Herbie some snacks.

Then they realize what they want even more: to sit with Uunive lying in their lap like she did when she was small and her horns hadn’t reached their full growth, when she still wanted to play Sailor Moon and they ran dungeons and dragons every week.

God, they missed her. How was she doing with her cavern duties? Did she have a matesprit now, that girl she talked about before? Had she made more bread? Above all, was she still safe?

Useless thoughts, every one of them, highly ridiculous and inappropriate. They hadn’t been made to be sentimental.

They had been meant to be like Rhyssa.

“Now why don’t you wanna tell me?” The wasp monster mused.

They barked a laugh, managing to push themself up after a long enough rest.

“Could it be because I don’t trust you? I don’t know how many barbs I have to throw before one sinks in, but here’s a flat fact: I would rather be literally anywhere else right now.”

Bizarrely, her mouth turned down in an injured pout.

“What’s so great about where you’re goin’ anyway? You don’t seem the party type, so it ain’t that. Pfft, no, wait - you got a living quad, I bet. Shoot, you would, you seem so young and goofy.”

They got up, ignoring her, ignoring their hunger, and pointedly walked away silently (well, more like with periodic sullen leaf crunches, but they did their best).

“Is it that little cluster in the woods over yonder?”

Tuuya kept walking despite the pit of dread that had opened up inside them. If they didn’t react, she had nothing to go on. She could just be taking shots in the dark.

“Is it that maroon who walks round with that dragon-lookin’ thing?”

Keep walking. Keep walking. Don’t show her anything.

“Gosh, guess I could pay them a visit myself. See what makes their company so preferable. Course, question is, should I let them live at the end? Maroons die in a blink anyway. I’d be doin’ you a favor.”

The buzzing sounded again and they couldn’t help it, they whirled around to see Rhyssa’s swarm buzzing around her.

The wasps weren’t fluttering gently now.

Their throat went dry, drier even than it was, and their eyes widened in fear they can’t conceal.

“No.” They whispered. Even with Claire’s powers to reckon with, the wasps were fast and deadly enough to seriously injure or kill the others before she could help them.

“Please, no. Don’t do it.”

“Why?” She said again, this time almost indifferent in her tone, her relaxed shoulders, hands on her hips. She was annoyed at most; there was no hate in her voice, not even any arrogance. These trolls were just an obstacle to her. The receiving end of her petty spite.

Spite they were helpless to stop.

“Because...they don’t deserve to die. They’re decent people, decent as anyone can be on Alternia. They don’t deserve to die just for knowing me.” Tuuya croaked, hands shaking.

“Aaaaaah.” Rhyssa breathed, satisfaction and ire in her voice. “Thought I smelled you in those trees. That’s what took me so long, thinking you were there instead of here...now I get it. But that’s an awful weak argument, sugar. Put some fire into it! Same stuff you showed me when you were defending my folk, and you barely knew them. What makes these little snacks so important that they’re worth keeping alive, hm?”

The tailor’s mouth opened and closed, then they found their voice.

“They - they are very talented, artistically, and I assist them with clothing and such, and - ”

The situation would’ve been ridiculous if it hadn’t been so terrifying. Firebird had been a menace, dangerously delusional, nothing but a misguided fool in the end, but she had never threatened their...their circle.

The wasps rose higher in the air, primed to attack.

No. They all had so much to live for. They deserved so much better -

They began to fly.

The worm monster flung an arm out as they yelled, voice weak and cracking as they trembled in fear, ears flat against their head.

“Don’t hurt them, because I...I love them.”

Tuuya slapped a hand to their mouth. Idiot. What a stupid thing to say. As if they had the right. 

If Claire ever found out...never mind, absolutely no energy to worry about that right now, save it for later.

The wasps spiraled down and back into Rhyssa, who chuckled gently as the other drinker went weak in relief.

“Aw, that’s cute. Dumb, but cute. Well...if ya really do like ‘em so much, I guess I wanna meet ‘em!”

They stared at her blankly.

“What.”

“I mean I could drink ‘em instead, but your call - ”

“Fine! Fine, I’ll take you.”

Not as if they had a choice. 

But damned if they’d ever let her touch them. Damned if Claire and her family would ever suffer because of Tuuya and the trouble they’d accidentally brought with them.

As Rhyssa walked ahead, their bright yellow and jade eyes narrowed.

They’d kill her somehow. For the sake of their circle. For the sake of her captive town. 

And most of all, because she was bloody irritating. 

END