#just what would happen if you died and got transported to alternate strand of reality and had to convince the version of yourself there

[creature-creates]

You and the Alternate Version of You That Recently Died Discuss the Ethics of You Combining Body and Soul Into One Being With Two Sets of Memories.

‘It won't hurt,’ you plead, ‘it will feel like nothing at all.’

You shift under your gaze, ‘but I will be gone.’ you say finally, ‘surely you understand that i cannot allow that.’ 

‘You will not be gone, your memories will live, as will mine. In the end, who is to even say there will be a difference, who is to say which of us it will be.’

‘Exactly’ your face sours at your pitiful desperation. ‘I will be lost inside of you, just as surely as you will be lost inside of me.’

‘But if this does not happen I will be lost to an even greater extent, if you do not let me take you I will die.’

A moment passes between you, identical eyes of despair and disdain.

‘If you are me you must understand where I am coming from. You must know the pain and fear.’

‘If you are me you must know that I am a dreadfully selfish thing. You must know I have never valued another over myself.’

Your eyes scan you coldly, deliberately, you scan yours, looking for the empathy you hope is there, you search you for the empathy you hope is missing.

You take a few steps forward, you take a few steps back.

‘Please, you have to.’

‘I don't have to do anything.’

‘I don't want to die.’ 

‘I don't want to disappear.’ 

‘I don't want to be lost.’

I don't want to never be sure.’

‘I'm already not sure.’

The eyes you gaze into, now and in the mirror, seem different, seem cold, seem frantic, seem scared, but what did your eyes look like before? What part of you changed?

‘If I refuse, who stays?’

‘If I agree, who’s taken the other?’

You gaze into your eyes, and you gaze back at you. Two pairs of identical eyes, separated only by distance, the emotions that flick over one are echoed by the other. Is there even another there? Are you alone gazing into your reflection? You don't know, you hate that you don't know, you hate your reflection for not being known.

‘We must let one of us in, there is no other way to be certain.’

But it will not be enough, we will never really know.’

‘But I don't want to die.’

‘I hate you for not accepting that I didn't want to do this, and I hate you for not agreeing to it sooner.’

And you laugh, and you laugh, and it is impossible to parse whether or not there are two people there, or if you are alone, laughing at your reflection.

[nyota-sungura]

Drabble; | Rabbit;;

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               Another bad night, another flash of blond strands encapsulating his vision and demanding attention to the driven orange eyes above him. A hand, long fingers wrapping his throat and demanding his lungs collapse. He had no choice, none at all, he hadn’t been given hope in this situation. Struggling to breathe, the message plays and he recalls it so vividly as horror strikes every string of his heart to tear it apart; why had he chosen this option for him? He cries out a name but it dies on his tongue and he begs, he pleads, why does his love want to take him out of this life? In knowing all that he knows, in helping him take care of Abbi when she was a child and knowing he had to survive to tent to her-- why was he so willing to kill him? Green hues soon mirrored orange as white slipped into his ginger hair and suddenly the visage above him was reminded of who he once was.

A rabbit, so keen and so hopeful to find the man who’d saved him that day from certain death when he was a child, even going so far as to take on a similar colour scheme to always remember whom he was searching for. A man of small stature, compiled of wires and chips melding into flesh and organics, constantly searching and screaming to find him. Sebastian, a name given to him when he’d forgotten his own and kept even when he remembered, now a reminder of the ghost that will forever haunt him. If only he’d done more, if only he’d saved him! Oh the gods above knows he tried. Spent years doing his best to find him, then after finding him, brought him home to take care of him; let him do as he pleased and loved him with every fiber of his being. A choked out sputter of words, a name cried out into darkness as his vision begins to tunnel and he screams until his throat is raw but the words won’t take form.

Knees break his ribs to puncture into his lungs and hands crush his throat to still it, but lips mask the muffled cries for life as he’s given that final ‘I love you’ before it all fades into the abyss that surrounds them. Green meets the darkness of the night as his eyes snap open and he realizes his internal cybernetics have been blaring an alarm at his conscious mind to wake up for an hour now. Alerts line up, telling him about his erratic heartbeat and scrambled breaths. Can he even call it a nightmare when it happened? Yet that’s not how it happened, was it? He stares down at his own marred fingers, unfazed by the drops of tears that fell into his palms as he curled up to make himself smaller. What would ever take away this pain? There’s nothing that he knows of. No medicine to remedy the truest form of betrayal and the agony it caused.

How did it happen exactly? He recalls it vividly in all reality. He’d been on a mission with Bambi when the killswitch had been engaged, it had confused him at first. Why would he have such a thing installed? Then the message began to play and his eyes filled with the visage of him as he was told that if he ever died, he’d take Seb with him since he was too important to leave behind. Even in knowing what Sebastian would leave behind if he ever died. There was no denying that he had been pretty messed up by the game, his emotional stature and cognitive reasoning had been impaired. Even still, the rabbit couldn’t bring himself to hate him. The only thing that had saved him that night was a bullet to the cybernetic side of his brain from an assailant they were hunting on their mission. After all, Seb’s glitch was that his death would be permanent if he was ever killed by someone he held a deep attachment to.

Sparks of purple caught his vision and he realized he was being too emotional, igniting his anger so carelessly and letting it roam free was never good for the Knight of Rage. He reached up and wiped his eyes, pushing away the memories as he usually did before he decided to trail out of his room and check ont he others. These were the moments so few could even touch him and he went into paternal overdrive to ensure his family was safe and sound. Each room was checked, all androids were looked in on, and he found himself with his ears twitching wildly at the knock to the complex’s from door not even a minute after he finished his rounds. His first habitual reaction was to grab the glock he kept stashed under the table, his second was to question who would even bother knocking this late. Anyone that visited used the transportalizer normally and that put them in the living room, not outside.

However, as soon as he got downstairs, his ears picked up the lack of sound behind the door and he pressed himself against the wall. Black drained into orange locks, but the process was stopped half way when he found himself stunned into immobility with a grave shock to the middle of his spine. Clenching his teeth tightly, he crumpled onto the floor and immediately reached to grab his weapon, only for his organic hand to be met with the boot of the intruder. A grunt escaped his throat as he blearily looked up to see who it was but before he could look, they jerked their foot up onto his face and slammed his head into the wall with the kick. The force knocked him unconscious and by the time he woke up, home was no where in sight. Surrounded by what appeared to be a sterile room, much like his medical wing, he snapped to consciousness and looked around frantically.

There was no scuffle at the complex, he remembered that much. A knock on the door, something like an amped up taser at his spine, and a boot to his face when that didn’t work. His ears vibrated wildly as every hair and bit of fur stood on end to relay his anxiety. This wasn’t the first time he’d been on a slab but the times before that had all been necessary medical operations to keep him alive or fix certain parts of himself. This... No this wasn’t a medical operation, this was something else. Green hues shifted once more and he caught a glimpse of the black that had seeped into his orange hair, noticing that it had only gotten halfway through and he grimaced at the fallback that could cause. Half assed mode transfers weren’t any laughing matter. Right, he couldn’t panic in this situation, he had to assess and escape. First, to finish going into switch mode. This person obviously knew what to do to trap and obtain him, but they hadn’t tampered with his cybernetics, otherwise-- He would’ve woken up in an instant and electrocuted them.

Once his switch mode was active, he didn’t have the emotional inhibitors that this situation would normally bring. Red sank through green and he growled as he looked down at himself to get a read on exactly what had been done so far. His prosthetic limbs removed, he clicked his tongue in annoyance and closed his eyes, trying to gather his thoughts. “Not easy to move without your legs and arm, is it?” The voice startled him, but he showed no reaction. He slowly opened his eyes and looked at his assailant clearly now, an almost unimpressed and bored look taking hold of the rabbit’s features before a bitter laugh came from his throat. “Aw, isn’t this just perfect. You’re the Dirk from the swapped sector, aren’t you? The so called prince that was raised by The Condesce. I remember meeting you back when my Dirk and I were still together.”

It was like a bitter medicine coating his throat, but his switch mode prevented him from really processing the emotions that would come with this hellish scene. Another day, another thing to take care of. “I almost killed you because you were shit talking him. Did you bring me here to gloat about how right you were about him? Or maybe about how I should’ve chosen you?” The rabbit sneered with obvious disapproval of the methods as Dirk trailed closer to the slab. His serrated teeth gnashed against each other as that pale hand reached for him and he was tempted to take the finger that brushed over his mouth. “You should have listened to me. I tried to warn you that he was no good. But he’s dead and you’re alive, so now’s the time where I ask you again. Since I lost my own Lil Seb, care to be his replacement?” Hah, so he wasn’t even looked at as himself, just a replacement for his alternate.

“Sorry, I’m not a little robot rabbit. I’ve no intention to humour your obvious misplaced attachment. So you’ve got two choices, Dirk. Let me go and never show your mug to me again, or I’ll kill you and leave of my own accord. Unlike me, you won’t fuckin’ come back.” A dangerous bristle and glare said all that was left unspoken, how serious he was and that he had means to pull it off. It surprised him, however, to see the man smirk and then laugh. Underestimating Seb would never end as well as one expected it to. He knew from the very beginning that if anyone found out his prosthesis could be removed that they’d use them to their advantage if they ever could. Because of this, he had spent years training how to operate without his limbs in dire situations. Red hues danced around discreetly as the other turned his back with a snicker, finding out just where his limbs were before he smirked.

Not far enough away, Dirk. His glare returned when those orange eyes were turned on him again and he tipped his head up away from the approaching fingers that tried to grasp his jaw. “Why do you always run from me? I could take better care of you than anyone in your world or beyond.” Now it was the rabbit’s turn to laugh. “Why?” The word was spat like venom from his teeth as he used his shoulder to shove himself upwards to get right into the other’s face. “Because you’re just trying to replace your lost little rabbit, but I’ve got a news flash for you shithead. I’m not your fucking playtoy rabbit that’ll listen to every line of code. Take better care of me? You’ve got it twisted. I can take care of myself, I don’t need you.” Viciously, he lunged and caught Dirk by the lip in his teeth, a savage growl in his throat as he broke the skin and let go when he was pushed back with a yelp from the younger male.

A bloodied snarl on his lips, it soon fell as he reached out with his organic hand to grip Dirk’s shirt and jerk him down to his level. “You don’t know a goddamn thing about me, how could you ever hope to “take care” of me? You’re ten years too fuckin’ early to think you could even hold a candle to my flame motherfucker. I’ve been pulling myself out of the abyss since before you were a twinkle in the fish bitch’s eye. I would never need an inconsiderate brat like you and I already have someone.” Staring into wide amber pools, the visage of his own Dirk’s wild and crazed expression in the final video feed he received pooled into his mind. Yet even so, he didn’t waver as he watched the other smirk and then laugh. “You could never kill me though, because I have his face.” It was like a thousand needles piercing into his heart, but it didn’t show on his features as he just stared up at him with the same expression.

How could he kill him? (He couldn’t kill his own Dirk, even when he was obsessively lock him away and then even trying to take his life from him.) Those pale blond locks, vibrant orange eyes, freckles splattering everything and an intensity in devoid expressions no one could explain-- He looked like his alternate to the very last line. Except. They didn’t share the scars. His own Dirk had plenty from fighting, from constantly having to bare the weight of war. This one? He was pristine, as though he’d never raised his sword outside of a controlled training room. His chest twisted painfully, knowing this would be another nightmare. Another thing to haunt him as he tries to catch up on lost sleep produced by the constant war torn hell he’d gone through before. He shifted, organic fingers though few they be, grasping at Dirk’s cheek as he sighed.

“You’re an insatiable brat that wants to own everything. Could I kill you? In an instant. I could drive my fingers into your mouth and rip out your tongue and severe the arterial vein there. I could plunge my finger into your temple and hook it into your orbital socket to tear through your grey matter. I could kill you.” Red hues stared into widened amber as he looked up at him with no expression, an intensity mirrored by his words as he traced his nails over skin with a little more pressure. “So either you let me go, or I do just that.” He didn’t see it though, the prongs being placed at his abdomen before he found himself convulsing in writhing agony at being electrocuted again. His jaw clenched, he slashed his nails through the flesh beneath them and growled savagely. So this was how it was going to be? He was going to either have to incapacitate him or kill him to get away? (Another nightmare for the latter.) 

Red tinted oil purged from his mouth as he choked on his own convulsions but didn’t bare witness to giving in. His muscles tightened but even so, he swung his fist back before punching the other as hard as he could with everything he had to knock him over the slab and into the floor. He turned, violently hacking up the rest of the liquid before he blearily looked for his limbs again through hazed vision. Although he was wheezing and grasping for the ground, he managed to twist himself off the slab and onto his only knee. A glance back to see where Dirk was, he pushed himself into a forward roll when he noted the unmoving frame. He slid as far as he could then pulled himself the rest of the way before he ‘stood’ on his ports and grabbed his leg first. A quick snap into place and he was snapping the rest of them in. He let out a deep breath at the groaning he heard, soon on his feet and trailing over to him as he was pushing himself up.

“I’m leaving. If I ever see you again, I’ll kill you where you stand.” Pointedly spoken, the rabbit stared at him without any compassion. Obsessive, controlling, always wanting-- This was who stood in front of him with a defeated glower. “Who is it?” The question confused him, his look clearly expressing that as Dirk continued. “Who do you already have?” Raven lashes bowed and he sighed, his ears pinned back with his annoyance. “Someone who you’ll never even be able to compare to. You’re not my Dirk, I’m not your Lil Seb. Neither of us can replace them. Move on, brat. I’m not an object for you to keep. I don’t need another nightmare under my belt from killing you.” A smirk, that was unexpected. He cocked a brow but said nothing until he piped up himself. “So if you kill me, you’ll have to remember me.” He blinked, knowing all too well what that meant.

“No. Because I'll see you as a target. I won’t even register your face. Targets are targets, the scum of the earth that need to be eradicated. I’m never haunted by them.” Dirk’s face fell but he didn’t say another word and instead, reached for the hilt of his sword. There was no getting out of this without a fight, but now that he had his limbs, he could do so without an inhibitors. His foot shifted back and he narrowed his gaze, putting his emotions fully aside thanks to his switch mode to focus. It didn’t take but a second for him to be using his prosthetic arm to deflect the swung blade, marking the beginning of this scrap that he wanted no part in. Every slash and move reminded him of a time where he would spar with his own Dirk and have such fun doing so before the Game. Where they would lie on the roof and Seb would laugh about random things. He remembered that a few weeks after finding him, Dirk’s older brother died.

Seb would wrap his shoulders in a blanket from the bed he was stuck in while the ten year old boy would work on his prosthesis. The Rabbit had been content to be used as a tool for distraction to cope. For an entire year, it was like that. He hadn’t been able to remember a single thing about himself and was given the name Sebastian, and when he couldn’t even stand looking at himself int he mirror without becoming a fearful mess for the ghost it reminded him of, Dirk had given him the ability to change his hair and eye colour to cope. Another flash of steel in his vision and he was reminded of the time he was separated from Dirk, a binary part of the Game that would be used in the shadows as he watched over the others. The visage of Dirk’s back as he disappeared from his life came back to him but he didn’t lose his focus for it. Every swing, bounce, and turn was calculated to the last second.

Without realizing it at first, his vision blurred with tears and he felt a sharp pain in his side as the blade seared through his flesh. His jaw clenched and he reached down to grip the blade. “Why are you crying?” The words struck him as he grasped the blade and pulled it free of his side. “Because, even if I don’t forgive him, he was family. I never wanted to lose him.” A back track in steps and he turned swiftly to deflect the oncoming blow. It was time to put an end to this. So he twisted on his heel and brought his leg up, his body lower to the ground as he drove it into Dirk’s jaw and knocked him into the wall harshly. “You can’t replace him. No one can. And the person I’m with, will never be his replacement because he’s his own person. He is himself, and I wouldn’t want him any other way.” Tired all around, he stared at the unconscious brat before he set his transportalizer and grasped at his side.

Everything had gone to hell so fast and now he was left to reel in every event that drove the universe to take his own Dirk away as well as the vivid memories of what he’d done. The pain caused by the blade was so little compared to everything else that he barely even remembered it as he collapsed on the floor upon arrival. Curled up as tight as he could possibly be, his switch mode was turned off as he found himself breaking down into choked sobs and broken cries. He couldn’t save his own Dirk from the backlash the Game caused, from the Glitch he had. The rabbit felt as though he abandoned the person who’d saved him and that searing pain that tore through his chest gave him nothing but a reminder to his guilt and the feeling of betrayal when he learned about the killswitch. All he wanted to do was simply live and take care of the ones he loved, yet he was torn asunder by the losses sustained. “Why’d you have to be such an asshole...” He muttered the words, eyes squeezed shut as he simply laid there and sobbed until he fell asleep in that slowly growing pool of red tinted black.