What Now?

To quote B.

It is a bit funny to say that, even funnier to reference B of all people. Does anyone else out there remember him? I certainly do. He's the one that drew me into being a /Sage/ and all that really. He was the one I thought I could help.

It was helping out B that I sort of got...well perhaps 'shanghaied' is the wrong term, but I didn't expect the repercussions of my actions. I think it is fair to say we all have had moments like that, especially of late.

I downed a 'mystery drink' that somehow saved his friend, by drawing her problems unto myself.

I understand exactly how weird and stupid that sounds. It did give me quite an interesting side effect. I could see it. I never could before, or perhaps it just never cared enough about me back then. Maybe getting tainted just meant that I drew its gaze upon me.

I think about what I need to do next, as I sit here in this little part of Sanctuary, using a community-owned laptop. There was a cold snap lately, but right now, its almost nice out. I can appreciate everything I've missed. That sense of appreciation has really made me think about things. I've just sat and listened as people talked. I've chopped wood one-handed to the enjoyment of a small crowd. I've listened to people sing or play ratty old instruments. I see people tell stories, and talk about their lives.

I see people unbroken.

I've heard it all. A young woman tells us about how she had to shoot her brother down because he came at her with a straight razor. It hurts her, but she's accepted that pain and moved on. I see another person admit what he had to do to survive, he had killed eight people over five years. I stare at him for a moment, seeing more behind the older man that I did laundry with just the other day.

I ask the crowd if anyone here hasn't had to kill another. There's a few that raise hands, but not many. The people of Sanctuary have had a hard life here, and have had to lose a lot of innocence to do so.

I ask if anyone had had to kill anyone while under the influence of a supernatural entity.

A few hands raise.

I sit on an old box and I take a deep breath. I've been quiet for most of this time, barely introducing myself as Timothy. I tell them the story. I leave out the blogging interests, and the whole concept of the Core Theory.

I tell them that I was a fool, that I had a plan to kill the ...Hollow Man, on one dark night, and that I had some backers show up to help. I tell them that I wanted to die there, that I wanted to be remembered as someone who could fight back, someone who could be an example for others.

Only it didn't happen that way. It never showed, and in its stead I accidentally took the life of a dear friend. Whether or not that brought forth the Bleeding Tree or not, I couldn't tell you. I just remember staring into those massive eyes as I was engulfed by the void. It sensed my drive, my ambition; and tweaked things.

'Oh, you want to be a hero and slay the monster? Fine, you can do that, if you become the greatest traitor to the cause in the process.'

I tell them about Slice, about Jekyll, about Rika, and they sit and listen. I tell them who they know me as.

They don't respond. Harris, the older guy I had talked to, puts his hands on his knees and says simply, "Yeah, we know." The man's a bit grubby looking overall, but has something of a grandfatherly appeal to him. "We knew what you had done before you even woke up.  Its just another story of someone who got fucked up."

I just stared for several minutes forward into the little fire we made. I guess I wasn't fooling anyone with the arm in a sling and the stupid edgelord katana at my side. They shared a fire with me regardless.

I guess maybe everyone has their own horrible story to contend with, so maybe now I need to decide what to do about it in a more productive manner.

I open up my old yahoo account, just for old times sake. I have some old emails in here from the 2nd Sages and a few others. There was a time years ago when I gave out that email addy, asking people to drop me a line. I looked at it again after the Solstice Event, looking for people to....kill.

I found a few new emails. Even now, even eight years later, some people still wrote to me for help. Most of them are pretty old, years upon years old, but there's one I see here, was written recently.

The mouse hesitates over the message as I think of those words again.

"What now?"

Now, I think, now is when I start trying to fix some problems in the world.