@psychexchāā sent: in many ways, i am not even real. i am not even here.
( freshwater by akwaeke emezi ) // not accepting .
āno, youāre not.ā not-david smiles sadly. ābut if it makes any difference, iām donāt think iām here either.āĀ
he digs his hands into the pockets of his suit and heās pleased to find such useful, mundane things inside of them. some quarters, car keys and a crumpled-up pack of gum. he loves it, he rolls these perfectly normal objects between his fingers. he and elliot are standing in front of a vending machine, surrounded by floor-to-ceiling window panels. not-david canāt remember seeing elliot around this much sunlight, itās like looking at someone brand new.
he looks good. healthy. like heās been sleeping well even though thereās a hint of a really scary question behind his huge eyes.Ā
ābut i think youāre-- no, i know youāre real, man.ā not-david bounces on his heels, sways forward and back. āiām the one whoās fake. see, i think... i think they tried to introduce me to you, a copy of me-- him-- david, but... you know, his powers... no, you donāt know, you donāt know him, me, yet... he doesnāt know you either.āĀ
not-david throws his head back, snorts. heās just an echo, heās not equipped to deal with any of this. it doesnāt matter, he knows heās a failed experiment already. whoever made this place, this little section of a perfect world, can already sense something is off. someone knows too much and as it happens, that someone is usually david. or not-david.Ā Ā
āi donāt think youāre going to remember any of this.ā he presses a number on the vending machine in front of them and tries to ignore the shaking of his hand. the form he was given in this world is already in the process of being neutralized. āitās not your fault, itās-- iām just, self-aware for some reason and... iām not supposed to.ā he pops his lips loudly at the word āsupposedā. david, the real david, probably doesnāt even know that someone tried to bring a copy of him to this place. doesnāt even know that his powers kicked in to save his reflection from blindly following the routine written out for him. and that itās exactly why he will soon cease to be.
it seems that not-david got trapped between two good intentions. he canāt be mad.
āitās a nice world.ā he picks up the pack of twizzlers from the vending machine. he offers it to elliot but backs away after a slow shake of his head. āi mean, look at me, the suit? i think the real david would like that. someone is taking good care of you.āĀ
he struggles to open the pack because twizzlers werenāt meant to exist in this maze. theyāre not patched in yet but david tends to bend reality around himself. kind of like the opposite of water-- when poured into a container, he twists it to accommodate him perfectly. so, of course, even his copy gets to have twizzlers if it wants them.Ā
āyou wonāt remember this, but when... if, if you meet david, for real, donāt, uh, expect too much, okay? heās really bad at first impressions.ā not-david grunts out. he canāt seem to rip the pack open but thatās alright because this futile struggle is an excellent distraction from the fact that he will soon cease to be. āand, heās-- heās going to be weird, but, you know⦠give him a chance? i think, i think heās gonna need it. itās, heās a complicated guy. just-- try, okay? please.ā
not-david stops fighting. he wants to sigh but thatās not enough. instead, he shakes his head, sniffs hard. heās not legion, not really, he knows that. but he tried anyway.
elliot opens his mouth to say something, probably to ask for an explanation, but then he realizes thereās no one to talk to. and never was. just his own reflection in a completely empty vending machine.