Snowflake Challenge #9

[merydian]

In your own space, create a fanwork.

I wrote a little thing for 1000xRESIST. It feels a lot lower-pressure posting here than on AO3, lol, which I think helped me get something together even though I have been struggling with writing so much lately. Even just trying helped me realize how many other aspects of the game I need to think harder on because of how many walls I kept hitting before settling on the below Fixer/Watcher thing. 

(Edit: I did end up making some adjustments and posting on AO3. I don't love it because I don't feel like I'll ever have a good grasp on this game, but I'm glad I managed to get something made for once!) 

Fixer tasted metal as she ran and ran and ran along the tracks, boots stomping against steel. Another stretch and she would be on the Other Side. If she kept going, kept pushing inherited lungs to their limit, she would finally meet the ALLMOTHER.

 

“Fixer!” Watcher called from behind her, desperate steps echoing in the red-tinted dark. “Slow down!”

 

Fixer cracked a smile under her mask. “Not gonna happen!”

 

It was stupid of Watcher to come after her. Fixer didn’t care if she got flattened out by the train, but it would suck if her escape plan got Watcher hurt, too.

 

She didn’t know what the ALLMOTHER would say when Fixer emerged before her. Would she be proud of her determination? Would she be enraged that Fixer hadn’t waited for her turn? Whether it would be admiration or fury, the possibility remained that Fixer may never be allowed back to the Orchard at all.

 

She was starting to think she was okay with that. The last time she was working atop the glass roof, she kept getting distracted by the world enclosed below. Indistinguishable shells performed functions beneath her soles, working as hard as the generous sunlight allowed. They were boxed in. Flowers waiting to be plucked as long as they grew toward Mother’s love. After all, what other direction was there? 

 

Well, Fixer had grown too much. She was claustrophobic, roots all tangled up because they had nowhere else to push toward. She was itching to be yanked from the soil just so she could stretch her legs, whether that meant being gently repotted elsewhere or salvaged for parts. 

 

Whatever awaited her, it was too late. Watcher would be way too tired to drag her back home even if she did catch her. She just hoped, maybe foolishly, that Watcher would have the sense to return empty-handed.

 

Blood pumped through Fixer’s ears, dizzying as the red strips of light along the tunnel blurred together… 

 

They broke open into a gust of white just ahead! “Watcher! Look!” 

 

Using her last dregs of energy, she raced toward the beacon. Where would it lead? How different would it look from the Orchard? What were the last Fixers working on now? Were they still alive? Or did the Occupants steal them away, too?

 

The blinding light dissolved, wall falling away to… familiarity: Platform 00. Its sign was blurry, but clear enough for Fixer’s legs to almost give out from under her.  

 

Watcher stopped and caught her breath in Fixer’s shadow. She bent over, hands resting on her thighs. “Fixer?”

 

Fixer struggled to find her voice. “It’s a circle.”

 

“We’re…” Watcher panted. She blinked hard and looked around. “We’re back where we started?”

 

Fixer climbed up onto the platform and sat herself against a glowing column, pulling one leg toward her chest and letting the other hang off the platform edge.

 

Her mind whirred with possibilities of the mechanics. Where did the train enter and exit? How did it all work?

 

But every spark of a theory was extinguished by heartache. No wonder it had been so hard to feel Mother’s warmth as of late. Mother was unreachable without permission, without an unwinding only her hands could spin.

 

Her world had never felt so small.

 

Watcher struggled to pull herself up until Fixer extended a hand. She hardly felt the tug at her shoulder as Watcher ascended. Hardly heard Watcher’s body unfold itself on the floor beside her.

 

Fixer couldn’t pull her eyes away from the tracks.

 

“I told you not to go,” Watcher reprimanded, muffled by the fog in Fixer’s mind.

 

In her peripheral vision, she could tell Watcher was looking up at her with her deep blue eyes. Most days, they were endless enough for Fixer to lose herself in. Most days, the Orchard walls melted away at the slightest glance.

 

Today, Fixer could not bring herself to entertain the distraction. The hypnotic sky of Watcher’s eyes was no different than the fake clouds and stars Fixer herself maintained.

 

Fixer looked down the path they’d initially run down, the curve of the walls imperceptible as the tracks stretched out of sight. “One day, I’m gonna find out how it works.”

 

“Not under my watch,” Watcher said. “We are never doing that again.”

 

“I didn’t think you’d follow.”

 

“You could’ve been hit by the train.”

 

“What makes you think it would’ve come?”

 

Silence echoed throughout the tunnel, always finding its way back to the space between them. 

 

Watcher bridged the cool tiles, her fingers wrapping around Fixer’s limp hand. “Let’s go home.”

 

“Watcher,” Fixer sighed, more aware than ever that the escalators behind them were the only place left to go. “We never left.”