#we out of asks *suspiciously rectangular ask box shape inside throat*

[deduction-substitute]

We start in the dark. When the light comes on, we see four people sitting on a couch. Two sit next to eachother; a blonde woman with a camera in her lap and a brunette man with a book in his. On the arm rest next to the woman, a little girl sits. She kicks her legs and has a doll. On the back of the couch, another brunette man sits, hair messy and sillhouette disctintly different. It's implied that there's something in his lap as well, but we cannot see it: his back is turned to the audience, turned to the others.

"What do you think the meaning of life is?" Asks the woman.

"A complicated question. I suppose the meaning of life is the impact each creature of the world has on its surroundings. From microbes and plants to animals and humans, each make life 'meaningful'. Does that answer satisfy you?" The man responds.

"What does that mean?" The little girl asks. Nobody answers.

"Let me rephrase, what do you think the meaning of your life is?" The woman tries again. The man stays quiet, then sighs. Such a loathsome question, yet he could never disregard her. "It's to lose. All I've ever done is lose. What about your life? Could you answer this question yourself?" The little girl speaks before the woman can. "Meeting new people, learning things, sharing my interests." "Finding the truth. About everything. A lie will never be as nice as the truth once was." The man on the backrest snorts, then leans to the little girl with a stage whisper. "I liked your answer a hell of a lot better." The girl giggles in response.

Both the man and the woman look uncomfortable and irritated. They hadn't expected anybody else. "Why are you here?" The man barks. It's more defensive than harsh. "A mix of both your reasons, I guess. Finding what's lost." "Could you please leave?" The woman pleads. This is not his conversation, he should not be here. "If I could, do you really think I'd still be here after all this time? Do you think she'd still be sitting next to you?" "I want to go play. I don't like this conversation. I want to go outside." The little girl laments. "I'd rather stay in. Whatever's out there isn't meant for me either." The unseen man sighs. "At least sit where we can see you. If you're going to be butting into our conversation, it would only be polite to face us." The man concedes. "There isn't any room on the couch left, unless you wanna cuddle up. The armrest can hold the kid, but I'm a bit heavier than that." The man is right. The two people on the couch nearly sit shoulder to shoulder. A third person would be uncomfortable. All of them relent. "What would you say my purpose is, Orpheus?" The woman asks. "Verity, you are verity." "Then you are fiction." "What am I?" The little girl asks. The hidden man answers. "I think you're history." "Then what are you?" "I don't know. What am I, oh wise members of the couch assembly." It's sarcastic, but not in a mean way. He's simply joking. "Redundancy, a trial, a mistake, a Chekhov's gun, a martyr." The man answers. "A mystery, a blank slate, an outlier, evidence, a clue, an enigma, something better left uncovered." The woman guesses. "Funny, odd, kind, sad, tired...fractured." the little girl ponders. "All those different answers. I think I'll stick with lost if you don't mind. By the way, I think all of you are human. Your purposes are to live happily." The lights fade out again. Most of the people take this in stride. We hear the hidden man one last time. "Fuck, it's so dark." He sobs. It's so dark.

SAN WHAT DOE STHIS MEAN

SAN

SAN

SAN?

everyone giving complex answers and lucky just going "you're all human" san what does thi s mean

[snsugar20]

The Crimson Devil

With the lack of sun and surplus of breeze, Zach had never been more relieved that he brought his favorite black hoodie. Not only did it ward off the ferocious cold, but the hood covered his white hair, his trademark giveaway, perfectly. He could admit that it wasn't exactly the best look for him. A twenty-year-old guy, standing at five foot eight, a black hood over his head, nearly melting the concrete sidewalk with his glare wasn't exactly a sight that screamed “hey, talk to me! I'm friendly and full of warm hugs!” to the public around him. His eyes darted around, counting to be only around maybe ten people out in the block. However, he couldn't help that small pit of worry that settled in his gut. He was about to use his powers after all. And last time he tried, he almost killed the guy he used them on.

He couldn't help but feel he had chosen the perfect time to do this. Crimson eyes glanced up at the thick, drab, clouds tucked in the sky, letting only a few worthy rays of sunlight pass through the heavy blanket they had created. It felt like the universe what waving a giant green flag at him to do it today. With the small amount of light no one would see what he had up his sleeve. And would make it even harder for them to notice him, if they were able to in the first place. The narrow strip of street that had seemed so lively later during the afternoons seems so naked and bare early during the day. Lost of its usual color and emotion. Even the fiery hues of red and orange-tinted trees that tangoed with the chilly breeze and the small pots of flowers that still had their color, hanging from the silvery lampposts, did nothing to brighten up the nearly bare suburban shopping block.

He repeated his plan over and over on his head as he walked up to a store that was nearby. “Just like usual Zach. Walk-in, distract, steal then dash,” he chanted, “just like always.” His feet came to a halt as he glanced up and recognized the signs. He stopped in front of the clothing store that was sandwiched in between the two taller stores. He peered into the large window and feigned interest. He could care less about the plastic mannequins with fancy garments in that display case. He glanced around the large rectangular glass around his reflection, making sure that no one had tailed him as he finished his second lap around the shopping district. If he did any more the few people in the area would have gotten suspicious.

A group of women near the end of the block, by the clothing store, were conversing about something pertaining to their kids with their bags clutched in their hands. Teenage boys were near the fruit stand, ditching class most likely, guessing on what time it was. Out of his now curled lips, he let out a condescending scoff. A small twinge of jealousy punched at his chest. He could never understand it. Sure, he wasn't the most studious. If anything he hated the idea of being cooped up in a room with someone lecturing for hours of your day. It was one of the many reasons he dropped out of high school at sixteen years old. It wasn't the fact that he wanted to be in school. It was just that being a student is something that a normal kid would do. He wanted to be normal. He craved for the word normal to be introduced into his life. Even if it was for just a day, he would cherish that day for the rest of his life. To be normal like those boys, who had normal powers, normal parents, and a normal life where they weren't shunned and created just for existing. 

His footsteps came to a halt as he stood outside the dull red door of the shop of “Adrin and Carter” a place the town had lovingly nicknamed “A and C” for short. Its neighbors were a small little cafe that served drinks on the right and the left was a bookstore. Clutching the golden doorknob he turned the handle and stepped inside.

The scent of cinnamon and apples came right to his nose as he took his first few steps into the quaint corner store, leaving the small chimes of a bell behind him. The first word that came to his mind was cozy when screening the place. The inside of the shop reflected the outside of the block almost perfectly. He noticed how dim it was, likely cause of the lack of sun that usually came in from the large bare window. He glanced over at the register counter, noticing that the clerk wasn't up in front. On a normal day when school was out or on a cool sunny weekend, this was the most popular place in town. It conveniently had everything that everyone needed. Snacks, games, and basic necessities. Later in the day, kids out of school came in and grabbed a few candy bars to snack on while out with friends while the grown-ups would head on over to the grocery section to pick up things for that night's dinner. Topped off with the cozy atmosphere of the place with the wooden tile floors and pale blue walls, it seems more like an extension of someone's home than a store. At this time, however, it was nearly desolate.

His ears perked up at a distance “Fuck! Ow!,” coming from the back of the store, near the fridge section. With a roll of his eyes and a sharp huff of air, he strode past the long aisles towards the back. His lips pressed together into a fine line as his eyes caught onto the raven-haired boy, who was rubbing the sore, red spot on his forearm. The worker could feel the icy glare of someone beside him. Glancing up from the mess of fruit he dropped on the floor, his brown eyes met with deep red ones. He fixed his gaze on his hair. He noticed the few strands peeking out of the hood to say hello. “Pure white,” he thought. Snapping out of his trance he did his best to suppress the chills from racking his entire body. He fixed his name tag that read “Liam” and stood up straight. “Hi, Welcome to A and C,” the skittering raven head gathered his composure after having it knocked down by his Zachs glare, “if you need any help, just ask,” he finished off his greeting with a smile, his face contorting in slight pain as he bent down to pick up the various pieces of fruit that he had dropped. “That thud must have been this clutz dropping that box,” he observed. 

He glanced over at him as Liam started grabbing the apples and oranges and placing them back on the stand. He couldn't be more than nineteen with how young his face looked. Silky black hair, tan skin, and a sweet smile. There was no doubt in Zach’s mind that he had a significant other. There was no way someone who looked like him could stay single. He probably had people who loved him and would need him. For once in a long time, his conscience had woken up as he thought about what he was about to do. Did this guy deserve this? All he wanted was to come to work, clock out, and get his paycheck. He probably needed the cash for his personal use. Hell, maybe he was supporting his family through a rough time. Taking in a small whiff of air he reassured himself, “His fault for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.” He closed his crimson eyes as he could feel a surge of liquid energy travel through his veins as he directed that energy to his arms.

He thrust out his hand, grasping onto his arm, yanking him close. “What are you-,” he got cut off. Zach raised his hand and used the tip of his finger to turn Liam’s face slightly to the right, exposing the right side of his neck. A diamond with spikes tattoos into his skin. A scoff came past his rose lips. “Y’know, I felt bad for a few seconds when I decided to do this to you. But now that I know your one of those high and mighty religious guys, that feeling of guilt just, poof, washed away,” he said, a smirk on his face, quickly waving his hand in the air. His eyes went towards Zach’s neck, searching for the symbol that he hoped to be etched into his skin. When he found his skin pale and bare he glanced at his wrist he saw the symbol on his arm.

A small triangle with short straight lines coming out at the sides, and four dots one at each corner and one in the middle of the shape. The look of surprise and fear on Liam’s face soon morphed into disgust, just tipping over the cusp of hatred. “A mage?” he scoffed, his words spitting out venom with each syllable. “Of course. Only your dirty mages would be twisted enough to think of attacking someone in the middle of the day.”

Liam’s head throbbed as ice set into his nerves, coursing through his arms and spreading like wildfire throughout his entire body. His legs, feet, and chest were numb yet he could still feel a slight bit of pain as he racked out coughs, leaving his throat dry. His knees gave out and fell to the floor, dropping the fruits in his hand, leaving them crashing onto the ground. “What did you do?” he managed to choke out as he nearly spits out his lungs. He used what little strength he had to glance up at Zach, his green eyes, meeting up with cold icy reds hues, and a deep frown etched on his face.

That small taps from his feet could be heard throughout the small store, the fingertips on his free hands mimicking them. “Call the guy who has your life in his hand's names. Yea, smart move dumbass,” he said, his voice rising in pitch slightly. Liam tried his best to tug away from him, to grab any nearby object and use it to free himself or escape. All of Liam's energy was slowly being drained from his body. It hurt to even move his arms to try and grab the railing to stand up. With Liam laying on the floor, he finally let go of his wrist. Turning over his barely breathing body, he grabbed the register keys that he had hanging off of his belt. Stashing them in his hoodie pockets Zach spared him one last glance. “Even though I'm a “dirty mage” we have one single thing in common, you and I. It's actually the reason why I'm doing this,” he said, “just like you, and everyone else really, we’re all just trying to survive in this cruel, unjust world.”