Chapter Text
You don’t make the noises anymore.
“The… what?”
They struggled to describe it. The noises? There were words sometimes. I don’t understand them. They don’t make sense to me but your ears hear some sort of pattern?
It blinked at them. None of this brought up any association in its mind.
One time you were talking about the passage of time?
This made a connection, and it suddenly laughed,“Singing. You’re talking about singing.”
That’s what that is???
It was still laughing in disbelief,"What do you mean that’s what that is??? It’s singing. "
They knew what singing was! They just hadn’t realized that’s what those sounds were. It didn’t really come up often. They folded their arms and huffed slightly, you still haven’t told me why you stopped.
At that, it did stop laughing, and its face turned sour,“I haven’t been in the mood.”
But you haven’t been feeling well and you seem to feel better when you do it. Doesn’t that make this the right mood?
“No.”
The notes said there was scarring on its back. No additional details or description, just,”scarring.” It’s not like they could be upset by the short description. Their colleague likely would have elaborated if they had lived. They themselves hadn’t realized the extent of it until they noticed it on both shoulders and the tops of its hips as its clothing shifted. What small glimpses they had seen were deep and not well-healed. They were becoming increasingly curious about what could possibly be in between.
It brought her another book called Tempo and improvisation . It was an instruction manual on various types of music. She supposed she appreciated the sentiment.
“Where did you come from?”
Its tendrils made that slight frozen curl again. What?
"You said you originally came from somewhere else. Where was it?
…another city. I wasn’t there long. We were overrun by dwarves shortly after I was born.
“Oh. Sorry?”
I don’t remember much about it. I’m much safer here anyway. There’s only around a thousand of us but we’re growing and instead of a-
It trailed off mid… sentence? …thought?? At first she thought it lost its train of thought, but this was different. Its tendrils curled up against its face completely, not in the occasional slight way she was used to. And its entire body froze mid motion; its left arm was frozen mid-gesture. Its pupils had enlarged so much they almost became round. When she looked closer at the outstretched fingers of the left hand, she could see a slight tremor. It stayed that way for over a minute.
Was it sick or hurt? Maybe it would die and that would be good right? Except what would happen after that? She’d be trapped in this cell, or worse, another of its kind would come back. There might even be something worse than that. She hated this thing but had a simultaneous stronger hatred for every damn thing else.
It still wasn’t moving.
Fuck.
Its impulsiveness continually surprised them. They were having a normal, if slightly banal conversation about a book, when it suddenly started banging on the bars of its cell and screaming.
“WHAT IS GOING ON!?”
I’m trying to give you a gift! There’s no need to yell.
The subject stepped back suddenly, surprised. That was new. It was always apprehensive around them, but usually in an aggressive and impulsive way. The way it was staring now was uncharacteristically cautious.
“What just happened?”
…I gave you a gift?
“No, after that. Why did you freeze like that?”
An image flashed across the subject’s mind, of themselves, standing tensley, in an odd pose. It wasn’t fabricating; it was genuinely reporting a stimulus it felt it had experienced. Why would it be hallucinating now? It was strange they had gotten this far without, but it would also be strange for it to start now that the interrogation was over. Maybe this was just the first time they were seeing it personally.
It would normally be an easy thing to refocus a thrall on reality. They had no idea how to handle it in this instance, however. Resonance stones were no good, especially on this subject. They could give it substances that would calm it or make it sleep but the hallucinations would just start again when it woke up.
In the meantime, they settled for strategically withdrawing. Hopefully it would be scattered enough not to remember this.
I’ll come back later with your food.
I know I’m listening to this second-hand through your ears, but I don’t think you’re doing that right.
“I’m following the score well enough. I think it’s just bad music.”
That managed to get a laugh out of it. Well. What she was pretty sure was a laugh.
“It’s also possible that this sounds better when an actual orc is singing it.”
My apologies, this does seem to be the extent of my music selection. It paused thoughtfully, It also doesn’t elicit the same feeling as the other music did. I don’t know if that’s a cause or an effect.
It took her a moment, but that statement actually got her to laugh,”What you meant to say was, my heart’s not in it.”
Yes, primitive cultures tend to attribute emotions to the heart despite that not being where they originate.
She paused for a moment, then pressed herself as close to it as she could despite the bars of her cell,”Are you sure? You tell me you know what I’m hearing through my ears. I assume you can feel what I feel too?”
Obviously.
“Then you know I can feel your heart beating. I can feel what it does when you’re scared. I can feel what it does when you’re complacent. I even know what it does when you’re interested in something. They’re all different. How do you know that’s not where it starts and your head isn’t just making up a story to match?”
The tentacles on its face stiffened slightly again. You may have noticed I’m somewhat smarter than you. You can’t possibly understand the related research.
It was her turn to laugh again, and probably the most genuinely she had in a long time,”If you say so.”
They were inspecting and rewrapping the arm they had to cut open. They knew how to stitch skin closed but that was so far out of the question here. Stitching it closed would just bring back the original problem. That left them with dressing and redressing a massive open wound.
I have to remove the bandage and you’re not going to like it.
Its thoughts stirred apprehensively.
Bad things grow in old bandages. It’s like old food. I need to rip the rotting bandages out. But you’re going to feel it. I’m also going to rinse it; that may also be uncomfortable.
Its thoughts turned even more hateful and obstinate.
I’m doing it either way. I just want you to know why. I hope that makes this hurt less.
They ripped the dressing off and jumped back. They pulled what was left of their facial appendages as close as they could.
It. Screamed.
It probably would have attacked them more if it hadn’t been… moving to grab the injury with its free hand.
nononononono DON’T. TOUCH. THAT.
They grabbed its free hand and it wrestled with them briefly. They continued holding their face out of reach at arm’s length while wrestling for control of the hand.
LET ME RINSE AND REWRAP IT.
It kept trying to work its fingers free. YOU CAN HOLD IT AS TIGHT AS YOU WANT JUST LET ME REWRAP IT.
It finally slowed to a stop and stared hatefully like it usually did. They kept a hold of its hand while the open wound oozed a clear pinkish combination of blood and watery fluid onto the stone floor. They patted around to the other side for the bottle of water while maintaining eye contact. They found it, uncorked it with one of their tentacles, and started moving to rinse the wound. It jerked the wounded arm back.
They took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Yes. This is going to sting slightly. It is going to hurt very mildly and briefly.
And? The specimen did the thing they least expected.
It set its palm on the floor and braced itself. It pushed its hand against the ground to hold itself still and shut its eyes.
They didn’t waste the opportunity. They poured the whole bottle of water on the wound.
It did sting. The specimen held still.
Can I wrap it?
It nodded quickly, eyes still closed.
They finished re-dressing the wound.