Notes: And here is where we really begin to veer way off what's been done before. Enjoy!
"Impersonate myself for what I used to be..."
Spineshank - The Height Of Callousness, "New Disease"
. . . . .
. . .
...
Hunger.
There. The first thought.
That was the first thing to come back.
Every time.
Hunger. An overwhelming need for food.
Desire.
The next feeling. Always second.
But what kind of food?
First question. Always.
It was a strange thing, the sensation of waking up. Gathering. Weaving. Collecting oneself. Attaining.
Piecing your very essence back together. Later, all it could be described as was like picking up the pieces of one's own mind.
Like kernels. Little nuggets of information. Kernels of knowing.
As yet, uncracked. Unpopped.
Kernels? ...Popcorn? Why was that important?
Wait.
Something was wrong. Something was... off.
Gaps.
Why did it feel like some were... absent? Misplaced? Gone missing?
With no hope of getting them back?
How?
No.
There, up above!
Yesss. Those would do nicely.
Ow, ow, ow.
Stupid move.
Gravity was a factor. Yes, it was.
Try it again. Try! Can't get anywhere if you don't try.
Jump!
Ha! There we are.
...Gone? Already?
More, more!
That isn't enough!
Never.
Darkness.
Smelly, smelly, wet darkness.
There used to be light here.
Didn't there?
He used to think so.
...He.
He hee heee!
It was at least a week before It regained control of its senses. Or what could be 'described' as its senses. Down there where no one would see, what did it matter, what these powers of perception were? What they were known as?
During that time, that vulnerable period right after hibernation ended, It was less-than-cohesive.
Swirling. Dizzy. Out of alignment.
Vulnerable.
Energy had to be attained. Strands of thought had to be spun together again.
Memories were...
Memories.
That was the scary part.
Not the memories themselves, no.
But where?
Where had they gone?
It was like learning to live all over again. Or, forget like. That was exactly what It did. That was the cycle. The point of everything.
It learned to live, the only way It knew how. It learned every time it awoke. It learned what had changed, what had stayed the same.
It learned about Itself all over again.
Every time.
...Except... this time.
Scary.
Very, very scary.
Petrifying, almost.
No, don't let yourself go there.
Clues. There had to be clues.
This universe was not dissolving so fast he was without clues. No.
This space, the tower, the wagon at its base - he remembered all of that.
Where it had come from. When he had procured it.
The name on the side of said wagon.
Eureka!
That was It. Its favorite form.
Take that, take that look.
It was a start.
Scraps. That was what he was existing on. Leftovers. His last hibernation.
And the one before that. The one before that.
On and on and on.
How far back?
Forever ago?
Had it been that long? Was that... him? All he was?
Ever?
Ever going to be?
Oh, no. Hungry again.
Leftovers...?
Forget that. Time for the fresh stuff!
Ow...
That could have went better.
Dummy.
Stop. Think.
Consider.
What was it about this planet? Something about it had to appeal to him. Why else would he have slumbered here since before time?
Before it was even a concept.
Dejected thinking didn't begin to say it.
His favorite, yes. But playing favorites didn't always get you fed.
Why? Wasn't he supposed to be better at this?
Missing kernels.
Just enough of them. Bricks plucked out of his foundation, leaving the rest of him shaky and unstable.
Anger. Coals in a firepit, smoldering, just waiting to be fed oxygen.
That's it. Time to act.
Moping wasn't getting him anywhere.
Knowledge. Certainty.
Memories.
Precious, precious memories.
Let's see about getting them back.
Author's Notes: *sits there crosseyed* Yeah... I don't think I'll do another one of these POV things for a while.
At least, not until after the second chapter.
