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Fuck, you're even becoming a legend across the City because of what you did. But you only did that because you were forced onto a ship because someone paid you to do so. You had no real personal reason to kill the Admiral. You simply did it. For worthless cash.
Is there even a person underneath all of that? Or are you just a scared animal who's clinging to whatever she's given in an attempt to survive in a City where more and more shit is thrown your way? Or maybe-
[???] You were an anomaly since the day you were born. It's arguable if you were ever an actual human at all.
[???] You look like a human. You talk like one. You 'think' like one.
[???] Yet you only exist to be nothing more than an icon. To be feared. To be loved. To be commanded. To command.
[???] A vessel.
[???] 'Nicole Smith' is a meaningless name assigned to a meaningless person. Your only goal is survival and to eventually have a family or make a founded one.
[???] That's because you don't have anything else to your existence. You just finally realized this when you looked in the mirror.
No. Maybe that's how you feel but you know you're a human. Even if your existence is flimsy, even if you don't know what to do with your life, you can make something out of it. But you do understand where you got these powers from. WHY you are an anomaly.
Maruyama had a goal when he manifested his power. Benedict had a goal, even if it was forced out. Your only thought for the longest time was to survive. No wonder why your powers are disconnected. They were the desperate flailing of a wild animal after it pissed off a group far more powerful than it.
Which only made things worse.
Somehow that brings you comfort. You know what's wrong with you and you can try to fix you, you hope.
Your legs stumble over to the anomaly and, with hesitation, you collapse against it and hug the deer. Your body rejects this the mere moment the two of you make contact and even the deer seems confused as to why you're doing it. You feel lacerations blossoming across your skin as you rest your body up against the deer.
Digging into your inventory, you pull out some old UVX jars and the mushroom sauce Benedict made. You slide the sauce over towards the deer's head before slathering some of the cream across the deer's tattered, torn body. You can already feel the already fragile state of your mind cracking at this...paradoxical interaction occurring but FUCK IT AT THIS POINT!
"Why?" The Archivist levitates up the mushroom sauce and slams it into its head. The liquid is immediately absorbed into the mass of keratin that was once its face.
"I don't know. This probably doesn't change anything but I'm too tired to care anymore. Your existence deeply frustrates me and I want to feel good about myself for a moment, okay?"
"A fair desire." After slathering the two jars of UVX onto the deer's wounds, all you can really do at this point is to rest your head against it despite your body desperately trying to reject it.
