#oc: tt004 382 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yurabox · 2 months ago

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Feeling a mild dash of courage in my veins so I'm going to post a TT004-382 (or Tolya) writing I did on my private blog. I'll hide it under a read more for posterity. No names, no titles. I'm too skittish to post it on Ao3 (maybe I will? At some point. I'd have to make up a title, would it even fit into the paw-ful [Attempting to skirt around main tag] fandom if it's just OCs?? I don't know!!)

Hope you enjoy it. Or don't, you can crucify me. Or beat me with hammers. Bweh. :P!

The ticking of the clock on the wall irritates TT004-382. Or Tolya, now, he supposes. Borzoi called him that, little Tolyechka in that ever-so dulcet voice of theirs, in a way that he couldn't tell if it was meant in a joking manner or affection. But he liked the original name too, Anatoly. Sunrise, he'd seen his first sunrise when he'd escaped. It was bright and bore into his soul like molten sugar being poured onto his eyeballs, sloughing away his skin into raspberry and pineapple candy until it reached his musk bones and encased him in a cute little layer of toffee, the perfect appetiser.

What was barely noteworthy to the average human was unique to the mutant, wretched thing he was, his body full of bile. What time was it? His head turned to face the clock, barely visible in the moonlight. It was four in the morning. The world was typically asleep at this hour, but would soon wake just before the sun rose. Sitting up from his bed, he looked up at his gangly, milky-white legs that hadn't seen the sun proper in well over a decade. He felt brittle.

His body would always restore itself after it shattered over and over again, no scars to mar the perceived perfection of porcelain. It was funny, how always the things inside him burst forth, spilling viscera everywhere, his bones contorting to fit the mass he was desired to be, usually some mish-mash of the things he'd assimilated, such as people and animals.

Unconsciously, he stood up, careful to make as little noise as possible. He often slept in solely boxers, regardless of how cold it actually was since he couldn't necessarily.. feel it as well. There was a mirror in the room, which he stared into on random occasions when there was nothing else to really do within the household. It was odd, seeing himself and how... mundane he looked, really. The top of his head was just barely out of sight from how tall he was in the mirror, but that was really it.

He'd considered himself abhorrent looking for... well, years. It didn't go away once he'd saw how he truly looked, sure, but it diminished any negativity that he had. So more or less, truthfully as he stood in the dark bedroom, he felt numb. Too numb. Inhuman in some ways, but his mind would spiral into a senseless nothingness that he wasn't sure if it was true to himself.

And so, he pulled on the shirt he'd always worn in the facility, the vermillion badge with yellow emblazoned on his chest, a ochre-yellow sweater that Borzoi had loaned him coming soon after, the texture pleasant on his fingers. Then pants he'd worn in the facility and some shoes and then he was off, quietly stepping through the household, which always had a sort of rustic feel to it with the carpets that were on the floors, walls...

The door was his only obstacle. It had a chain lock to it and his long fingers swiftly made work of it, unlatching it, the chain swinging to the side and making a quiet metallic thk sound, Tolya's body tensing up for a moment, his ears straining for even the slightest of movements. For a few moments, all he could hear was the rush of blood in his ears, the heart thumping behind his ribs, the commonality between humans and non-human.

The house remained silent and a sigh that he didn't know he was holding escaped him. And thus, he slowly unlocked and opened the door, taking care to ensure it didn't creak too loud as to wake up Borzoi. He didn't necessarily know how he'd react nor how Borzoi would react to catching him leaving at 4 in the morning, but alas, he would persevere as he always had.

Stepping out of the home and into the apartment complex's hallway, lit by a light that flickered every now and then, the walls a dull colour that he'd only recently learned was called mint. It was as quiet as the dead, the distant hum of electricity his only company. The apartment's door closed behind him, he made his way down the steps, counting each one. One, two, three, four... repeating itself every flight until eventually, he reaches the bottom floor and most importantly, the way to outside.

He walks through the entrance of the tall apartment building, silently noting that his head was closer to the top of it than many, many others he'd seen enter and exit. Of course, not to the point of bumping into it, but still... It's cold outside, fresh snow having blanketed the ground. It was still a novel sight to TT004-- Tolya, it was now, he reminded himself. Even if it gave him a slightly bitter feeling, it too... human of a name for him.

Better thoughts for a better time. He had been walking for a few minutes now through the streets of the city, taking care to not fall on the ice that was beginning to develop. And eventually, urban buildings blended into more natural landscapes such as tall trees, open pastures and whatever else resided nearby. A forest. He'd been here before, multiple times. And he instinctually made his way to a hill that just crested over the treeline, not quite as far from the city (well, it was. Truthfully, he'd walked a fair distance. He liked doing that, it was probably something normal people, humans, things that weren't what he was did).

And he sat down. The ground was cold, but he didn't mind. He was used to the cold in ways that others weren't, adapted to it. And of course, having better clothes than whatever the facility gave him definitely helped. Even though he had their shirt on underneath the sweater, he.. well. Disregarding his previous thoughts, he looked up at the sky. It was dark, but at the cusps of the horizon, he could see the encroaching blueness of the oncoming day. As he sat there, waiting, it slowly burned its way into reds, oranges, yellows... well, many many colours. Then the sun crested its way up, peeking out over the horizon like a rabbit out of its warren.

There wasn't much ambience where he was, aside from the distant sounds of nightjars singing their songs alongside some crickets, which were deftly joined in with the songbirds (or whatever they were, he didn't know) beginning to chirp out their morning calls. Day had arrived and for Tolya, that was perfectly fine.

#yurabox #writings #tt04-382 #i guess #borzoi #borzoi isn't there per se but they're there i swear. just not. as a chracer ok.#i feel like i'm going to nuke this within 3 nanoseconds chat... i feel CRINGE :(

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