What is a Goldfish?
I've been calling the girl as such on a whim, but I've yet to analyse the memory or meaning.
- Fwoosh- I hop back avoiding a gutting swing. There are better times to consider such questions, but it'd been bugging me since we started.
I can't help but feel the current nickname unsuitable for the girl. Given it's illustrious name, a "goldfish" must surely be a majestic creature. Doubtlessly large in size, a graceful behemoth with plated scales. Surely, a beautiful being.
Umu.
Oh- side-step a splitting strike. -Bang- the crude blade digs deep into the soil, the bottom of my gown flutters in the shock-wave.
It's rather breezy.
My foe takes a moment to yank his giant Khopesh out of the ground, his momentum dead. I could have killed him just now. The cave-dweller, blinded by rage and grief, continues heedless of reason.
I could have killed him. Yet I didn't. Why? I do not know. But perhaps I should focus on one problem at a time.
My current quandary; the name Goldfish is inappropriate, so what to call the girl now? Of course it can't be her actual name, that would be stupid. No, it must be suitably subhuman and demeaning.
Why? Not sure, but it feels right. Or at least it feels half right. Half of me feels it would be proper, the other half seems indifferent… or sleeping.
Either or.
"STORP DUDGING AND FIGHT!" The long-limbed thing shouted, revealing it's speech impediment.
Well, that or it's just stupid, or perhaps its mother tongue is different from the one we speak currently?
-This "pocket", it points at the floating ball, provides a translation for the majority of all languages spoken in the tower-
My eye twitches. Now I'm getting memories I don't remember from just earlier today… At least I think it happened earlier today.
I internally groan as I dodge increasingly rage fuelled swings.
How long was I out? How long has passed since I awoke in this here fields of carnage?
A near miss ruffles my hair.
How troublesome.
Alas, such concerns can wait till later. I have a more important question to answer… What to name the girl!?
You're still on that…
I ignore the sigh from my sleepy side, the first action he's taken thus far, and listen to my haughty side rave on what was appropriate to name the girl.
It was rather entertaining.
I was unaware two parts of the same being could so eloquently express their own opinions… then again, I am unaware of many things.
I am hit by a wave of sadness. It comes from that sleeping side. He is sad. Why?
Because I have lost much. That is saddening? Yes. To not know? Yes.
It is a shame. It is a shame to be ignorant. It is saddening to have forgotten.
… You are strange. No, we are strange.
… No, I am strange. Yes. There is a twinge of satisfaction as I think that. I understand, just a bit, but I understand. I feel full and content on the knowledge.
-Bang- I almost killed the thing in reflex. Lowly bugs disturbs my thoughts-!
Well why don't I? Wasn't I thinking of something else though? Unimportant. Kill it. Kill it now. A part of me wanted to kill it.
So I decided to kill it.
I move on a foreign instinct, the motions themselves uncannily fluid. The bug swings, from mid-left to mid-right, it's a vicious, sweeping motion across its body.
Stupid. The bugs arms are spread out, inviting, its chest unguarded. I could crush it, I can hear its heart beating, I know where to hit. But such a punch would risk my fist and wrist. The bug is dumb and gangly, but its bones are thick.
Not worth it.
Thus my aim is a softer spot; It's neck.
Alas, it is a tad tall for me to comfortably reach without overextending and jumping in battle is a sin. I feel my eyes narrow in anger. I will have it lower its head.
I kick out one of it's kneecaps. The motion was less graceful than my approach, striking less natural to me than dodging.
The bug screeches, his howl of pain joining the distant chorus. Scratchy and high pitched, the wail was an assault on my ears.
All the more reason to end it.
It fell on its knee, free clutching the destroyed joint in pain. Foolish. Its shoulder dropped; leaving my aim completely unprotected. Smoother than my kick but less than my movement, my hand drifted to its neck.
My finger felt like a talon. I hooked something. I continued drifting. The bug finished falling.
You could just about hear the rush of blood spurt out its ripped Jugular. The scent of blood became a little thicker.
Dead. I give the corpse a glance. Very dead.
I felt very little at the confirmation. This was catalogued to analyse later.
Still feeling some irritation (why was that again?) I looked over the girl and that other unconscious bug with a slight glare. Wasn't the dead bug and the unconscious bug related?
That was the cause of the fight.
Should I kill it too?
… No.
Very well.
I didn't want to kill right now. These emotional switches are giving me whiplash. My body once more moved on instinct.
"Girl." Was this the first time I'd spoken to the girl? "Assist me."
She shuffled over, unsure on what to assist me with, but eager to help. She got the message once I flipped the bug over and started searching its body.
Twas time to loot.
… Also time to think of the girl's new name.
You're still on that?!
.
.
We nicked the bugs necklace and its rings, nothing else was worthy of note. I gave the loot to the girl, she actually had pockets to store them in.
-variety of functions such as storing small objects, recording mes...-
I twitch. "Visible Mode." A black ball, floating silently, reappears by my side. I gave it a contemplative look. "... Storage." It was a guess. A white box, barely larger than a hand-width appeared on the black surface.
I held out my hand to the girl, sending a pointed glance at the pocket she'd just stuffed the loot in. Without complaint or any hint of annoyance she forked them out and held them to me.
So eager to please…
I picked the necklace, a crude but well made trinket of teeth, chain and gems. I dropped it into the white box. It disappeared. I blinked.
How curious.
How did one retrieve the item?
I tapped the white box experimentally; a hologram appeared. What a surprise. Why am I not surprised? It displayed a rectangular grid, five by two, ten boxes total.
An inventory screen.
How quaint.
In the upper-left corner of the grid display, a single box was occupied. It showed a pixelated image of the necklace I had just dropped in. How do I get it out?
I tapped the air where the box was projected. All other boxes of the grid disappeared as the necklace box centred itself above the white square on the Pocket. On a whim, I tapped the white square once more, hand passing through the hologram.
The necklace came out. I jingled it around a second. I put it back in.
Huh. Neat.
I felt like a child.
Very carefully, I refrain from letting myself fall for the childish loop, instead I turn to the girl.
I gesture to my Pocket, "Try so with yours." It wasn't an order, I felt no need to phrase it as such. The girl followed my word without hesitation anyway.
The girl repeated my actions. Turns out the inventory screens are near invisible to those not the owner and it is possible to stack objects in a single slot, as proven by the multiple rings in the girls inventory.
We even tested the size of each slot, stuffing as much (of the bugs) clothing in as possible, turns out each slot size is about as big as the Pocket itself.
That is to say; smaller than my head but larger than my knee.
That is a strange analogy.
But accurate.
It was quite fun. There, next to a large rock in a field of death, playing with our toys. To the extent I even forget to act all haughty-like.
… Why have we not been attacked yet?
We had, after all, just spent the last minute playing around with our toy pocket-dimensions.
Something should happen right?
…
Nothing happens.
…
Seriously, nothing.
…
*Distant screams*
...
Well, no matter.
I was feeling good, content, happy even. This was interesting and I was strong. I could afford to have fun. I could afford… a tag along.
The girl was crouching next to me, finger continuously tapping the white box on her pocket, rings appearing and disappearing at rapid rates. Her eyes fixed on the childish loop.
I almost snort.
Obedient. Floppy hair. Above average face? Eager to please, would look better in a collar… Oh. I had thought of a name for the girl.
I stood. No sense remaining here any longer. I would like to explore more. I looked over my shoulder at the girl. She looked up at me, awaiting my direction. I gave her a brief nod. Yes, I've decided. "Come, puppy." She will accompany me further yet.
Perhaps, one day, I might even warm up to her?
.
.
.
AN: Bitch is currently a puppy. Woof.
This chapter is messy. It was written in parts and over a long period of time, I only just got back to finishing it because of the brilliant Worm/ToG fic appearing recently. My thanks Morgan Arc.
The fight scene is shit, but I had written that nearly a year ago now, so hopefully it will get better.
Honestly, I don't really see how it can get worse from here, hence the reason I've not wanted to look at this shit, but I just want to write some ToG.
It's an understaffed fandom.
Whatever, I'll see y'all next time, whenever that may be.