Feasting with a Famished Friend. (liminal series P2)

Echo: What's up with ya? Planning on dining with a psycho robot? *she laughs maniacally*

???* the figure is tall, in a formal suit, and has a bag over it's head showing only it's teeth* well I wouldn't mind! have a seat.

Echo: Hmph. *she pulls a chair with one of her tentacles, and sits down, crossing her arms over her chest* What dinner you got? I hope it's no human food. I got no mouth. *she taps her screen, smirking*

???: well.... I didn't know that. but do feel free to indulge with whatever you find! *they dig into a piece of rotten turkey*

(No Name...yet): Ah No

???: please take a seat! I'm sure you must be famished! *the long table is covered with plates, some have fresh foods. most don't. the being is tall, wearing a suit and gloves and has a bag over there head only showing their mouth*

(Hes like.....6'3)
"mmmm~"

???: wow you sure sound hungry! *the being is like 8'5*

(GOD DAMM)
"...:

???: well? are you going to sit or not.

"Uh~"

???: ...... *he just picks up a steak knife and cuts into a moldy piece of ham*

"!"

???: *he bites into it, not seeming to care much*

"...."

Ink had been traveling the road for a little while now. They were vaguely keeping track now, counting footsteps, scribbling down the occasional note in the notebook they were given.
~I'll head back someday.~
It had been eyeing the road now, pointing out the tiny changes to itself. New cracks, a cooler breeze, a subconscious reminder of the growing scent of rot. All had now been calmly understood and accepted. It had been expecting them.
It had not been expecting a house. Even less so one as big as the one that stood before it. It was mesmerizing, the sight of something so familiar being so alien to it now. Cat paw shoes took a cautious step to the side towards it. To stray from the path it had been following this long was such a strange feeling.

Ink waded through the grass. Were ticks a thing here? It doubted it, but it certainly didn't plan to be suffering with lyme disease for the rest of its forever. It walked just a bit faster.

It bounced up onto the doorstep. The door was unlocked. How convenient.
Now, of course Ink briefly debated the ethics of home invasion in a world with seemingly no law enforcement. Was it wrong if there's nobody to judge them or tell them its wrong? Was not breaking an entering meant to be common sense? The shopping cart dilemma.
After about two minutes of slow, careful thought, it chucked out all its ponderings and slipped through the door.

The interior was like the house itself. Unfamiliarly familiar. It was odd feeling such a disconnection from being inside. It had spent a lot of time there once it assumed.

It wandered aimlessly for a while, taking in the strangeness of the mere presence of a house here. It poked its head into a room every once in a while. More often than not, it did not commit to entering.
Until it found the dining room.
Someone was there.

~OF COURSE THE ONE OTHER PERSON HERE BESIDES ME AND TRAV AND ITS THE GUY WHO OWNS THE HOUSE I BROKE INTO!!!!~
Play it cool, it decided, hands flapping wildly in an attempt to get out their panic. Just say it had made a mistake and didn't realize someone lived here. The truth was always best, yeah?
It took a deep breath, and entered the room. "Hiiiii..."

Maro: *they pick up a small meat tenderizer and smash open a window with ease somehow* better?

"I-" Ink sighed. "Look, I'll be completely honest with you. I need to leave." It decided to just drop the bomb now. It pushed back its chair and got to its cat-pawed feet "I'm not exactly comfortable sitting in a dining room with a person I don't know who has admitted to eating guests in the past. I hope that's an understandable cause for alarm."

Maro: . . . . . . . . but I wasn't going to eat you..... I'm far too lonely to do that currently!

"I wo- ...oh?" It stopped. "But. But I- Uhm." It felt a twist of guilt. Of course it was making assumptions again. Jumping to conclusions. Still, can you blame it? Maro did admit to eating people. "Sorry..?"

Maro: ..... so will you stay? at least until we finish eating?

Ink had a heart. It knew that for sure. It had felt it working its ass off plenty this past while.
But did they have a heart for a person who'd eaten the flesh off a man it'd known's bones?

...

"Sure. I'll stay."

Maro: thank you...

"Don't mention it. I've just... had a messy past while."

Maro: do you wish to talk about it?

"Eh, I ended up here for a start. Dunno when or how, but I'm starting to come to terms with it. I can't die so that's an odd feeling to say the least. I've always kinda understood the whole rotting over time thing; that's just how I am, you know? But..." It went back to playing with its braid. "I dunno. It a mess up top right now.

Maro: *they eat as well, mostly going for the rotten food. you can see faintly their tongue is very bloody, as if injured*

It was difficult not to point it out. Ink thought the question of "is your tongue okay" was weird in any context or phrasing. And most certainly a bit disrespectful. Still, it looked a bit painful; it wasn't sure how Maro themself didn't seem to mind. Then again, there was always an air of general apathy surrounding the people here. Suppose it was something it'd have to get used to.
"So, what have you been up to lately?" it asked as casually as it could manage. It was a bit strained.

Maro: oh I'm fine! I simply removed my taste buds. and I've been fantastic! I've been looking for a good friend, you wouldn't happen to know a skeleton in a robe would you? he..... has something of mine.

Removed taste buds. Yeah, that would explain the lack of care for eating rotten food. Ink didn't exactly like the thought of the texture or how easily those wounds would get infected, but to each their own. Ink went to take another bite of their own food. At least it wasn't awful.

At the mention of the robed skeleton, however, it paused. ~Trav? What do they want with him?~ It did its best to act as though trying to recall. Would it be treated with the same politeness if it gave any sign it knew the traveler? Just as it had begun to settle in, it felt a lot more disturbed than it had upon entering.
"I... don't think so. Like I said, memory issues." It was lucky to have made up that excuse. It only hoped it hadn't given itself away physically. Then again, Maro couldn't really see as far as it was aware.

Maro: ah. well if you do... tell him it's been a while since we've feasted together! he was delicious! too bad he ran out of meat so soon. *now you know why trav had such clean bones. the meat was torn off them*

"O-oh." It's questionably existent stomach lurched. It carefully lowered its fork. What the heck was it eating? How hadn't it thought to ask?
~Hold on a second, I'VE SEEN THIS ONE!!!! This is that whole cannibal schtick where they invite a guy in to eat but the meat is people and the guest gets eaten!!!!~ Now Ink didn't want to jump to conclusions, but it certainly wasn't sure it wanted to be bones just yet. Decay was meant to take time. Decomposers didn't tear up a carcass all at once, that was a scavenger's job. "I uh... noted, uh..." It pulled out its notebook.
[The guy's f**king crazy nevermind]

"I uh... " Now see, the last thing anyone in a situation like this is supposed to say is 'I really ought to get going.' That's when the cannibal guy gets you. So it chose to end the sentence there.

(also because it keeps being mentioned, the whole 'questionably present organs' thing, Ink has a form of cotard's syndrome, involving the belief that one may be missing organs. They so easily accepted and embraced the concept of being actively rotting for similar reason. They aren't actually missing any body parts, they just genuinely aren't sure if or not they believe they have them.)

Maro: oh please don't leave I simply HATE it when people leave without eating. you only took a couple bites!
(I could tell)

"I'm sorry, things have just been... busy. Haven't been all that hungry lately. Stress'll do that." Sure, it had gotten over the stress a good while ago, but it wasn't completely lying.

Maro: oh, perhaps you just need a place to rest? well I do have a spare room open!

"No no, that's fine. I'm not tired at all." It didn't exactly appreciate the way its tone quivered. "I think I just need to take a step outside. Clear my head, y'know? Fresh air, all that." While the air out there was far from fresh, it was certainly nicer than the growing stuffiness in here. It felt almost suffocating.

Maybe Ink was a little stressed.

Maro: MOST?

"What about it?" It mustered up a bit more confidence now, its voice firmer.

Maro: I haven't had anything new to read for.... years I think? whatever, hand it over.

Ink gripped the book a bit tighter. "It's really nothing." Nothing 'Maro' wasn't already well aware of at the very least.. "Just a word here and there."

Maro: . . . . . *their smile turns into a frown* do you not trust me? please hand it over.

(Ink has an Emotional and Existential Breakdown 2: Beef with the Fae.)

(emphasis on beef)

"I'd consider it more 'tentatively complacent with your presence and behavior.' Yes, there is a difference." It wasn't sure why it was being so defensive. Perhaps it worried it would get in trouble. That regardless of what it said, 'Maro' would get upset with it.
"It's not that I dislike you, I'm simply a bit on edge when it comes to..." It gripped the book tighter. It was so irrational to be this frustrated. But not once had this person properly listened to it. And they'd hurt people and taken from them. Its hands were shaking, and it wasn't sure if it was from the force of gripping the book, or sheer emotion needing an outlet. "...you! And- and the things you've admitted to. You know what you did and I-... I don't know how to feel or- or make it make sense or- I don't know!"
It was desperate. It didn't know what it was trying to express. Ink was challenging a creature over four thirds its height that could do god knows what to it if they felt so inclined. Perhaps its own notebook would become yet another on this shelf. That would suck.
Energy drained out of it. Its head thumped against the book. Its grip loosened. "I don't know who you are..." it mumbled pathetically into the cover.

Maro: simple, I am maro! that's it. *they grit their teeth together* NOW HAND OVER THE BOOK.

"You're NOT. You're not and you don't know me and you don't listen to me and..." It sighed. "It's not even worth it." It let go. It read the book already. No reason to hold onto it so tight. Besides, there was no information in that book that 'Maro' hadn't already admitted to. "I want to go. I'm done here."

Maro: . . . . . . no. I want to know why you are being so rude all of a sudden. have I not been a good host? *they flip through the book with practiced ease. imediantly getting to the clean page. it was messing with you*

"I don't know. I just want to go. A good host would let their guest leave when they're ready."

*Maro smiles as you leave. the house is rather large, most rooms are dedicated to food. you spot a loose book amongst a shelf with cook books on it*

It sighed as the door shut, pulling out the notebook again.
[NVM. Guy is chill.]
It looked up, shoving the notebook back into its pocket. That's when it noticed the odd book.
Ink approached the book, tilting its head as if to examine it from every possible angle. They tugged it carefully from its place. If it had learned anything from the movies it still recalled, out of place loose books were often secret levers or hidden compartments.

*it has a single letter on the cover. a T.*

Now Ink had been kindly reminded not to make assumptions, but Ink has not learned their lesson.
~And besides, Trav HAS been here.~
They flipped the book open.

*it is well written, well most words and sentances have bloods stains covering them. but one page is unstained*

As much as it tries to make out words from the stained pages, there's not nearly enough to form any coherent sentences. It fidgets with the paper between its cold thumb and forefinger. It doesn't take a lot of imagining why the pages are so stained. Anyone with basic language comprehension could've figured it out. In a place of such messy... business as this, things are bound to get splattered. In a way having that context made it a lot less disturbing. The rare peace in understanding. It finally flipped through to find the singular pristine page.

*it is filled with neat writing. with a picture of maro on the side.* "entry 82. The subject's name is anomaly 9. yet prefers names of the people who have gone missing in this realm. it seems very intent on learning my name. The subject is a tall being who dresses formally, yet wears a bag over their head. when further investigated it seems they have scars around their neck, when asked about the scars they seem confused on what I meant. it seems hungry all the time, seems to have no taste buds either. the subject has invited me to eat with it, yet I see no fo-" *the last word is cut short and the ink trails to the end of the page*

So that WASN'T their name. Shame, Ink thought the name 'Maro' was quite pretty. Sucks that whoever had it first wasn't around anymore.
Had it given that thing its name? It didn't think so. Damn it, had it just had a confrontation with the Fae? Had it eaten Fae food? The thing couldn't have its name but were they like, stuck? 'Maro' didn't say anything about trapping it in eternal servitude, but who knew when the mystical Terms and Conditions updated?

The ending of the entry only confirmed what Ink had already been told. It just felt different reading it from this perspective. Crueler. It took in a deep breath. Ink was going to be the bigger person. Not physically, no. Nowhere near physically. But figuratively. It was not going to barge back into that room and bite that thing itself. It probably wouldn't be all that pleasant anyways. And it wouldn't fix anything. It oh so calmly shut the book and stiffly returned it to its place on the shelf.

Maro: *their hand grabs the book as soon as you touch it* oh? what's this book about?

Ink flinched so hard it thought it had genuinely leaped out of its skin for a moment. "I-!" It yelped, reaching after the book for a moment before shrinking back. "It's nothing. I don't-" Its brain grabbed for the words but it couldn't piece them together.
~Don't what? Know? Care? I'm not a liar.~
"Most of it's not even legible!" It settled on that.

Maro: *they stop acting playful for once* there's a lab somewhere in this realm. find it. for us, for everyone stuck here. end this. *they suddenly become cheerful again* not that hard right????

Ink dangled still for a moment, perhaps stunned by Maro's sudden seriousness. It nodded almost as a reflex as it processed. A lab. A building. Buildings stood out. This one did. Yes, not hard. "Uh-huh." It mumbled.

Maro: oh and by the way...... I never did get to learn your name did I?

"Do... you intend to steal it? Will I still know it if I tell you?" Always be wary when they ask your name.

Maro: ..... well, it depends. you'll remember it sure, but I oh so could use a new name! Maro is not going to stick in my memory forever after all!

It could give a false name. It didn't like the idea of its own being used. Especially not with everything. Ink was its name. It belonged to no one else.
But it would be rude.
"My name is Ink. Only use it if you have nothing else to use."

Maro: ink...... what a pretty name. it would suit me well.... but I suppose.... it does belong to someone already.

"Thanks." It replied tensely. "Now could you maybe... put me down?"

Maro: *they put ink down* I... apologize. I am not myself when I'm hungry. I've lost many friends due to my hunger. I..... hope I didn't lose your friendship.

That was a difficult answer to give. Ink had every right not to forgive. It doubted that it really could.
The kindest response it could offer was none at all. "May I go now? Please?"

???: *a tall being sits there at the long table, they have a bag over there head with only cut open for their mouth. they wear a suit and gloves* oh, you're late! please have a seat! *the table has many plates on it, some food looks deliciously fresh, others look barely even recongnizable from the decay. same with the drinks*

Somehow, the friendly invitation made Ink more uncomfortable than just being chased out. Ink stared down at the array of food, fidgeting with their braid. The stranger's appearance hardly startled them; they presumed they were someone like Trav, covering themself up as not to show the decay. It could feel for that. For a moment it thought, when it too withered, how would it choose to cover itself?

It took a seat in front of one of the fresher looking plates. It had to admire the juxtaposition of the whole room. Fresh food beside plates of mold in a lovely room occupied by two rotting bodies. It thought it funny how a place could be so clean and yet so foul. "Sorry about that. I didn't know I was invited." it spoke up at last.

???: oh it must've gotten lost in the mail! silly me!

Ink wasn't about to tell this person there wasn't exactly a mail service here (at least as far as it was aware). Clearly they weren't all there and that was fine; neither was it all things considered. And they deserved to keep living like they weren't in an empty plain.
"Guess so." it shrugged. "I'm so sorry, this is probably a weird question," ~considering you act like you know me...~ "but what was your name again? My memory's definitely not what it used to be." That wasn't exactly true yet, but it didn't mind playing along a little.

???: oho, memories a problem? well my name Is maro!

"Maro! That's right." It nodded, reaching into its pocket to slip out its notebook. "Lemme just jot that down so I don't forget again."
[Totally didn't break into some random guy's house. House owner named Maro. They talk like they know me but I don't know why.] It drew a sobbing emoji next to the scrawlings.
"So, what've you been up to? What am I... here for?" It tapped the pen on the edge of the notebook.

Maro: why to eat of course! I'm simply famished aren't you?

~Am I?~ Ink had never really paid attention to hunger. Perhaps they were used to forgetting to eat. Or, they still had to question what organs they may or may not have. "Sure." And of course, it had its own apprehensions about the food itself. Sure it may itself be rotting, but was it safe for it to eat moldy food? Such usually wasn't the case.

Maro: *they somehow managed to use silverware without using their eyes. maybe they've just been here so long they've adapted to it*

Ink picked up their own silverware. They poked the food for a moment, as if expecting it to move. Honestly, it wasn't sure *what* it expected. It warily cut off a small piece and ate it.

*the moment you go through the door you... are back through the door? as if it was a mirror you are spun back directly at maro. who proceeds to slug you in the face*

(IM SORRY I TOOK AGES AGAIN AUGH I FORGOT)

Ink felt their guts flip as it flung itself through the door. How strangely similar it was to the room behind it. Even the same Maro- "HOLD ON-"

The attack cut it off, and Ink fell pathetically to the ground. The ache set in and it grabbed at its face where it was hit, grumbling profanities to stave off the hurt. That'd leave a wonderful little bruise soon.

"You're the freakin' worst, you know!" It strained out through a tight jaw. "You and your stupid house and your stupid food and your stupid freaking boss!" it yelled childishly, stomping the ground with each addition to the chain of stupidity.

Maro: *he grabs them by the neck of their shirt and lifts them up*
(it's fine)

Ink snarled, clawing at Maro's arm like a feral cat. It kicked and squirmed but the host's grip was firm. "Let me GO you FREAK!" it shrieked, those once soft, empty, swirly eyes now wild and jagged with rage, terror, and the sheer will to get away.

Maro: hmmm.... on one condition maybe. I mean... the boss doesn't have to know, I can always just say I ate you.

"Anything. Just let me go." It looked more desperate than when it was grabbing at the book.

Maro: well first I am a tad hungry.... and I have to admit I've been craving eye for a while. *he takes out a small rusted blade*

(Second inevitability of an A_A_U oc)

The swirls in Ink's eyes seemed to shift to the knife. Of course even the metal is in a state of decay all its own. "You can't be serious." it breathed, jostling itself around as if it still expected that to work in getting it free.

Maro: fine, there's another thing you could do I guess!

"What?" It spat.

(that's fine)

(do you need a reminder that this exists?)

(no dw just been busy is all. Writers block is a bitch)

Maro: hmmm... well I've never been to the real world before!

"Unfortunately I can't tell you much about it. It was more varied than here, I know that. But I can't recall many specifics."

Maro: darn. I would've love to hear tales of it!

"If I ever recall anything I may be able to make it back to tell you." It did seem to love offering to backtrack despite not knowing if it even could. An empty promise may as well be a lie after all.

Maro: why thank you dear friend!

(SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO GET BACK TO YOU HERE.)
"Of course. I plan to head backwards anyways for... other things, so it's the least I can do." It tapped idly on the table.

(it's fine, I'm trying out inscryption again on my new PC right now lol)
Maro: well you can always explore my house if you wish.

(Oh neat! It's third anniversary was a couple days back)

"You sure? I don't wanna break anything." It had already torn through the house. Then again, it was also in a rush. Never got a proper look. "I mean, if you say so." It did kind of want to. A little foreign familiarity could be nice.

Maro: *they lean back as they let you leave the table*

Ink stood, nodding to Maro, before turning to leave. It paused.

"Thank you, by the way."

It slipped out the door and into the rest of the house.

Maro: so eager..... to die that is. but alas as a good host I can not willingly let you go. the boss simply won't allow that!

"Funny story there..." Trav had told it it couldn't die. And even before, that inevitability had never frightened it.
What got its attention was the mention of a boss. "Boss?"

(The inevitability of every A_A_U character: immortality complex. Maybe I should've reused Loaz lmao)

Maro: oh so you haven't heard yet! oh well. but let me tell you one thing, if you leave this place you will die.

“Define ‘this place.’ There are a few ‘this place’s.”

Maro: my home. the boss will eventually find you.

“So you ARE the Fae!” It blurted. God that was stupid. Much as it did actually kinda fit. Being a rude guest in a Fae dwelling, eating Fae food, name theft, maybe this was a thing Ink was very into once upon a time.

“W-well your boss can look all they want. I’m a sneaky little… whatever! And death’s about as big a threat as a… potted… plant.” It was not all that confident suddenly. Wonder why.

Maro: oh I mean mental death. you'll be braindead, or insane! also what's a fae?

(Oh my god yes I'm so sorry.)

"How long do you want this conversation to be? Because that question could exponentially lengthen the chat." Mental death? Like this guy had any room to talk about mental death. "Old home stuff. Safe to say you won't be hearing much about it."

Maro: . . . . . anyways.... you're not leaving.

"I am. And I invite your boss to try and stop me." An empty threat, as much a lie as its now definitely empty promise to return. Ink turned on its heel, pushing itself off the bookcase and (pun intended please laugh) booking it for the door into the next room. The best thing it could no now was pray it remembered the layout of the house. And be fast. Maybe drawing paws on its shoes helped with that.

(ya still there?)

Maro: why of course. you may leave. but one last thing.... don't ever return here, I cannot bear to watch my hunger consume another friend.

"You got it."
~Don't have to tell me twice.~
"Stay sane as you can. Goodbye."
It turned and headed for the door.

Maro: ..... don't trust anything except the ground beneath you.

"Understood. Thank you." It left the room. Its moldy organs didn't flip. That was nice. Just needed to retrace its way back to the entrance. Oh how nice to be able to breathe outside air again. It may smell no better, but it was better than here.

*there is only one door in your way now, the one you came in from*

Ink didn't hesitate to throw it open. The lightest breeze hit its face. it felt so bright out there. It rushed over the threshold and paws finally met cracked asphalt once more. It spun around in the sunlight. It never thought it could be so excited to see such monotony.
As its little celebration subsided, Ink looked down the direction it hoped it was originally headed. It was hard to tell, but it would figure it out eventually. It headed along. It had a proper goal now.
But, with that goal.
Would it have time to go back?

It didn't have time to think on that.

(and that's the end of this part!)

yippeeee!))

(do you need a reminder or is it just writing block?)

(taking a short break really. I'll be back at it probably at some point over the week with winter break coming up soon)

(feel free to prepare for the next part, or just hop right in!)