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*Well, there's a door here. Seems similar to the ones that have been appearing lately. It looks oddly fancy in an inexplicable way... There's a strange dial on the door that can't be adjusted, which is currently blank. There's a note on the door.
The note reads "This Door Connects With Any Of The Various Timelines I Have Connected To My Garden. Right Now, It Is Set To Pull Through Whoever Is Closest When It Opens. I Have Added A Dial To The Door To Indicate If A Person Is Their Timelines Equivalent Of Myself Or Kishar - Indicated By Cyan - Utur, - Indicated By Yellow - Alam - Indicated By Magenta - Or If They Are Someone Specific To Their Timeline - Indicated By Green. Caution; Not Everyone Is Friendly. Should You Wish To Remove Someone Back To Their Original Timeline, Just Call My Name. Try Not To Cause Too Much Trouble. - Persephone."
The note is written in a slightly-glowing cyan ink on black paper. It smells oddly of roses.*
The dial switches to magenta, and out falls - outright falls - a very sleepy looking figure. The resemblance to Alam is immediate, though the figure has their hair currently unstraightened in an afro style. When they look up, their eyes are primarily a soft brown, but there's a ring of bright blue around the pupil. Either way, this Alam is very clearly just a normal human. One in a sort of toga looking outfit who obviously just fell out of bed.
"Am I a what of your what - are we speaking English right now?"
The very-obviously-a-version-of-Alam's eyes widen, and he looks surprised, yet not in a bad way. His english is heavily accented, and it's clear he hasn't spoken it in a long time, but he's still fluent.
"Nice. Good. Good and nice." He looks... slightly overwhelmed in a way. "I have been. In a time period where nobody knows about the water cycle. Please tell me you know about the water cycle. I am going to cry."
"Gishkim works." He shrugs. "Probably easier to just stick with that in case someone else asks about me, yeah?" He smiles, awkwardly. "... sorry, I am... a bit out of it right now."
Maram hears a footstep and sees Zababa before them. But before they see him, they feel the trademark electric tingle and faint smell of ozone in the air, telling them that this is no trick of their imagination, and no dream or nightmare.
He's holding a cat.
"Hello, Utur, my love... It's been a long time."
All that power and fury... and yet he still looks on them with nothing but adoration.
@enterthemikeverse
Maram freezes. They curse internally, wishing that right here, right now, their body hadn't defaulted to freeze instead of fight or flight. They stare at Zababa, the same feelings they held when they ran flooding back to them. They don't blame the cat, their spice, she'd never do something that she thought would hurt them, but they can't stop the fear in their heart.
They don't know what to say. They don't know what to do. They don't understand.
"... why. uh. are you here."
It's the only thing they can make themself say right now. They know that their racing thoughts and conflict is shown on their face as clearly as if it was written there, so at the very least they don't have to worry about their statement being considered thought out in any way. It's obvious that it's the only thing they could manage to say with all the thoughts racing through their head.
"To apologize," Zababa answers, gently setting the cat down so she can scurry over to hide behind Maram.
Hearing Zababa say that is a bit of a shock. Their erstwhile husband was never one for apologies.
"I met another Utur... they explained to me some of the pain that had been inflicted on them by the actions of another who made them eldritch much as I did to you. I had no idea how badly it would hurt you... how totally it would upend your reality. I'm sorry."
"... how do I know you're telling the truth? you seem like you are, but how can I be absolutely sure?" Their eyes narrow slightly. They're... visibly still processing the fact Zababa is even here, still almost in shock at the sight of him. Their reactions are... dulled by it.
"its been. long enough that you might have learned how to lie to me. long enough that you might have decided lying was worth it."
Maram stares. They don't know what to do. Part of them wants so badly to believe him, but part of them is terrified that this is a trick, a trap of some kind, something. Their mind is racing and they can't figure out what to do.
"... why? why did. did you do it in the first place?"
It's a question they've been wondering for years, though perhaps not one to ask while they're doubting his truthfulness.
They blink. That... wasn't the answer they were expecting.
"losing me...?"
Does he mean to death? Or something else? They weren't that old back then, were they?
"that... seems like something you should have mentioned at least...? i dont remember you ever... seeming like that was something you were worried about."
They ignore the fact that some of their memories have become hazy recently.
"That, too, is probably my fault. We talked about how great it would be if you could be immortal like me, and I think I mistook that for a request to see it done," Zababa sighs.
"But it was always something I worried about. The worries became worse when little Kishar appeared. The idea that only one parent would be alive to see them grow through their life, that they could have to grow up with only one parent. As you can see, irony flows from my actions unbidden."
Zababa pauses.
"So, how is the little one? I'm sure you have kept them safe. Even without their arrogant fool of a father."
"maybe? i mean. uh. theyre an adult now. i can tell them you want to see them but its uh, its their choice in the end." They shuffle a little, nervous energy beginning to build up.
"i wish i could forget. im still mad about that." They make a sound that almost sounds like a laugh, almost like a sigh, and a bit too much like someone holding back a cough. "i cant even remember what i was making, i just remember that i couldnt make it cause of that guy."
They're caught somewhere between distress and comfort. A distant longing for the past and a fear for the present. Part of them so very desperately wants to just rush over and wrap their arms around Zababa and finally, finally relax. Part of them can't trust that this isn't a trick, can't let down their guard, can't risk it. And part of them is...
Part of them is...
Best not to think about it.
Maram's heart aches, and not for the first time the absence of true lungs in their chest grates on their nerves. Their false-lungs (a copy, a mimicry, a last desperate plea for normalcy) do a convincing facade of breathlessness, their chest tightening with muscles they don't have over ribs they don't need. A tiny, bitter part of them screams he made you like this! He took away your humanity! Make him suffer! but it's smaller than they would have expected, smaller than they spent years believing it was.
They bite their tongue. They aren't surprised that even now, they can't bring themself to hate Zababa. Fear him, perhaps, but never hate.
Zababa can't help but laugh with them, his eyes sparkling seeing the person he fell in love with once again.
"I remember listening to you rage and rage all night... and then you and I embraced, and danced, and laughed at the absurdity of it all..."
In a moment of impulsiveness, Zababa puts his hands gently on their shoulders. He freezes for a moment, unsure if he's overstepped as he looks into Maram's eyes.
Maram doesn't pull away, but they aren't exactly comfortable, either. It's clear even just from their expression that a part of them wants Zababa to move closer, and another wants to scurry away and keep a distance. They can't make a choice, stuck in a state of decision paralysis. They don't know what to do, what they want to do.
The very ends of their locs slowly turn greyish, and begin to flake like ashes, but they're long enough that it's hard to notice if looking at their face.
Maram takes a shuddering - unnecessary - breath. They search, scramble, for anything to say in response.
"... i never ended up sending a letter of complaint, did i?"
"You forgot... but I made sure to send it. And many more after. Ea-Nasir received enough tablets that he could have built a tower to rival ours with them, knowing how deeply he slighted you."
A shimmering, starry tear falls down Zababa's cheek.
No matter how hard they might try, they cannot deny him this. Even if they hate themself for it later, even if part of them screams to run and never look back, even if part of them wants to recoil from his touch, they cannot deny him this.
Zababa pulls them into a soft embrace, and does something that Maram scarcely ever saw him do. He weeps. It's not clear if it's happy, or sad, or both, but he's openly weeping and squeezing Maram tightly. The tears of four millennia.
Maram shakily wraps their arms around Zababa in return, resting their head against his shoulder. They don't know what to say in return, too many thoughts in their mind. Zababa probably already knows they can't say 'me too', regardless.
"i..." They struggle to find a response. "im sorry."
They hope he doesn't ask them to elaborate. They don't know what they're sorry about.
Maram hears a footstep and sees Zababa before them. But before they see him, they feel the trademark electric tingle and faint smell of ozone in the air, telling them that this is no trick of their imagination, and no dream or nightmare.
He's holding a cat.
"Hello, Utur, my love... It's been a long time."
All that power and fury... and yet he still looks on them with nothing but adoration.
@enterthemikeverse
Maram freezes. They curse internally, wishing that right here, right now, their body hadn't defaulted to freeze instead of fight or flight. They stare at Zababa, the same feelings they held when they ran flooding back to them. They don't blame the cat, their spice, she'd never do something that she thought would hurt them, but they can't stop the fear in their heart.
They don't know what to say. They don't know what to do. They don't understand.
"... why. uh. are you here."
It's the only thing they can make themself say right now. They know that their racing thoughts and conflict is shown on their face as clearly as if it was written there, so at the very least they don't have to worry about their statement being considered thought out in any way. It's obvious that it's the only thing they could manage to say with all the thoughts racing through their head.
"To apologize," Zababa answers, gently setting the cat down so she can scurry over to hide behind Maram.
Hearing Zababa say that is a bit of a shock. Their erstwhile husband was never one for apologies.
"I met another Utur... they explained to me some of the pain that had been inflicted on them by the actions of another who made them eldritch much as I did to you. I had no idea how badly it would hurt you... how totally it would upend your reality. I'm sorry."
"... how do I know you're telling the truth? you seem like you are, but how can I be absolutely sure?" Their eyes narrow slightly. They're... visibly still processing the fact Zababa is even here, still almost in shock at the sight of him. Their reactions are... dulled by it.
"its been. long enough that you might have learned how to lie to me. long enough that you might have decided lying was worth it."
Maram stares. They don't know what to do. Part of them wants so badly to believe him, but part of them is terrified that this is a trick, a trap of some kind, something. Their mind is racing and they can't figure out what to do.
"... why? why did. did you do it in the first place?"
It's a question they've been wondering for years, though perhaps not one to ask while they're doubting his truthfulness.
They blink. That... wasn't the answer they were expecting.
"losing me...?"
Does he mean to death? Or something else? They weren't that old back then, were they?
"that... seems like something you should have mentioned at least...? i dont remember you ever... seeming like that was something you were worried about."
They ignore the fact that some of their memories have become hazy recently.
"That, too, is probably my fault. We talked about how great it would be if you could be immortal like me, and I think I mistook that for a request to see it done," Zababa sighs.
"But it was always something I worried about. The worries became worse when little Kishar appeared. The idea that only one parent would be alive to see them grow through their life, that they could have to grow up with only one parent. As you can see, irony flows from my actions unbidden."
Zababa pauses.
"So, how is the little one? I'm sure you have kept them safe. Even without their arrogant fool of a father."
"maybe? i mean. uh. theyre an adult now. i can tell them you want to see them but its uh, its their choice in the end." They shuffle a little, nervous energy beginning to build up.
"i wish i could forget. im still mad about that." They make a sound that almost sounds like a laugh, almost like a sigh, and a bit too much like someone holding back a cough. "i cant even remember what i was making, i just remember that i couldnt make it cause of that guy."
They're caught somewhere between distress and comfort. A distant longing for the past and a fear for the present. Part of them so very desperately wants to just rush over and wrap their arms around Zababa and finally, finally relax. Part of them can't trust that this isn't a trick, can't let down their guard, can't risk it. And part of them is...
Part of them is...
Best not to think about it.
Maram's heart aches, and not for the first time the absence of true lungs in their chest grates on their nerves. Their false-lungs (a copy, a mimicry, a last desperate plea for normalcy) do a convincing facade of breathlessness, their chest tightening with muscles they don't have over ribs they don't need. A tiny, bitter part of them screams he made you like this! He took away your humanity! Make him suffer! but it's smaller than they would have expected, smaller than they spent years believing it was.
They bite their tongue. They aren't surprised that even now, they can't bring themself to hate Zababa. Fear him, perhaps, but never hate.
Zababa can't help but laugh with them, his eyes sparkling seeing the person he fell in love with once again.
"I remember listening to you rage and rage all night... and then you and I embraced, and danced, and laughed at the absurdity of it all..."
In a moment of impulsiveness, Zababa puts his hands gently on their shoulders. He freezes for a moment, unsure if he's overstepped as he looks into Maram's eyes.
Maram doesn't pull away, but they aren't exactly comfortable, either. It's clear even just from their expression that a part of them wants Zababa to move closer, and another wants to scurry away and keep a distance. They can't make a choice, stuck in a state of decision paralysis. They don't know what to do, what they want to do.
The very ends of their locs slowly turn greyish, and begin to flake like ashes, but they're long enough that it's hard to notice if looking at their face.
Maram takes a shuddering - unnecessary - breath. They search, scramble, for anything to say in response.
"... i never ended up sending a letter of complaint, did i?"
"You forgot... but I made sure to send it. And many more after. Ea-Nasir received enough tablets that he could have built a tower to rival ours with them, knowing how deeply he slighted you."
A shimmering, starry tear falls down Zababa's cheek.
No matter how hard they might try, they cannot deny him this. Even if they hate themself for it later, even if part of them screams to run and never look back, even if part of them wants to recoil from his touch, they cannot deny him this.
Maram hears a footstep and sees Zababa before them. But before they see him, they feel the trademark electric tingle and faint smell of ozone in the air, telling them that this is no trick of their imagination, and no dream or nightmare.
He's holding a cat.
"Hello, Utur, my love... It's been a long time."
All that power and fury... and yet he still looks on them with nothing but adoration.
@enterthemikeverse
Maram freezes. They curse internally, wishing that right here, right now, their body hadn't defaulted to freeze instead of fight or flight. They stare at Zababa, the same feelings they held when they ran flooding back to them. They don't blame the cat, their spice, she'd never do something that she thought would hurt them, but they can't stop the fear in their heart.
They don't know what to say. They don't know what to do. They don't understand.
"... why. uh. are you here."
It's the only thing they can make themself say right now. They know that their racing thoughts and conflict is shown on their face as clearly as if it was written there, so at the very least they don't have to worry about their statement being considered thought out in any way. It's obvious that it's the only thing they could manage to say with all the thoughts racing through their head.
"To apologize," Zababa answers, gently setting the cat down so she can scurry over to hide behind Maram.
Hearing Zababa say that is a bit of a shock. Their erstwhile husband was never one for apologies.
"I met another Utur... they explained to me some of the pain that had been inflicted on them by the actions of another who made them eldritch much as I did to you. I had no idea how badly it would hurt you... how totally it would upend your reality. I'm sorry."
"... how do I know you're telling the truth? you seem like you are, but how can I be absolutely sure?" Their eyes narrow slightly. They're... visibly still processing the fact Zababa is even here, still almost in shock at the sight of him. Their reactions are... dulled by it.
"its been. long enough that you might have learned how to lie to me. long enough that you might have decided lying was worth it."
Maram stares. They don't know what to do. Part of them wants so badly to believe him, but part of them is terrified that this is a trick, a trap of some kind, something. Their mind is racing and they can't figure out what to do.
"... why? why did. did you do it in the first place?"
It's a question they've been wondering for years, though perhaps not one to ask while they're doubting his truthfulness.
They blink. That... wasn't the answer they were expecting.
"losing me...?"
Does he mean to death? Or something else? They weren't that old back then, were they?
"that... seems like something you should have mentioned at least...? i dont remember you ever... seeming like that was something you were worried about."
They ignore the fact that some of their memories have become hazy recently.
"That, too, is probably my fault. We talked about how great it would be if you could be immortal like me, and I think I mistook that for a request to see it done," Zababa sighs.
"But it was always something I worried about. The worries became worse when little Kishar appeared. The idea that only one parent would be alive to see them grow through their life, that they could have to grow up with only one parent. As you can see, irony flows from my actions unbidden."
Zababa pauses.
"So, how is the little one? I'm sure you have kept them safe. Even without their arrogant fool of a father."
"maybe? i mean. uh. theyre an adult now. i can tell them you want to see them but its uh, its their choice in the end." They shuffle a little, nervous energy beginning to build up.
"i wish i could forget. im still mad about that." They make a sound that almost sounds like a laugh, almost like a sigh, and a bit too much like someone holding back a cough. "i cant even remember what i was making, i just remember that i couldnt make it cause of that guy."
They're caught somewhere between distress and comfort. A distant longing for the past and a fear for the present. Part of them so very desperately wants to just rush over and wrap their arms around Zababa and finally, finally relax. Part of them can't trust that this isn't a trick, can't let down their guard, can't risk it. And part of them is...
Part of them is...
Best not to think about it.
Maram's heart aches, and not for the first time the absence of true lungs in their chest grates on their nerves. Their false-lungs (a copy, a mimicry, a last desperate plea for normalcy) do a convincing facade of breathlessness, their chest tightening with muscles they don't have over ribs they don't need. A tiny, bitter part of them screams he made you like this! He took away your humanity! Make him suffer! but it's smaller than they would have expected, smaller than they spent years believing it was.
They bite their tongue. They aren't surprised that even now, they can't bring themself to hate Zababa. Fear him, perhaps, but never hate.
Zababa can't help but laugh with them, his eyes sparkling seeing the person he fell in love with once again.
"I remember listening to you rage and rage all night... and then you and I embraced, and danced, and laughed at the absurdity of it all..."
In a moment of impulsiveness, Zababa puts his hands gently on their shoulders. He freezes for a moment, unsure if he's overstepped as he looks into Maram's eyes.
Maram doesn't pull away, but they aren't exactly comfortable, either. It's clear even just from their expression that a part of them wants Zababa to move closer, and another wants to scurry away and keep a distance. They can't make a choice, stuck in a state of decision paralysis. They don't know what to do, what they want to do.
The very ends of their locs slowly turn greyish, and begin to flake like ashes, but they're long enough that it's hard to notice if looking at their face.
Maram takes a shuddering - unnecessary - breath. They search, scramble, for anything to say in response.
"... i never ended up sending a letter of complaint, did i?"
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Maram hears a footstep and sees Zababa before them. But before they see him, they feel the trademark electric tingle and faint smell of ozone in the air, telling them that this is no trick of their imagination, and no dream or nightmare.
He's holding a cat.
"Hello, Utur, my love... It's been a long time."
All that power and fury... and yet he still looks on them with nothing but adoration.
@enterthemikeverse
Maram freezes. They curse internally, wishing that right here, right now, their body hadn't defaulted to freeze instead of fight or flight. They stare at Zababa, the same feelings they held when they ran flooding back to them. They don't blame the cat, their spice, she'd never do something that she thought would hurt them, but they can't stop the fear in their heart.
They don't know what to say. They don't know what to do. They don't understand.
"... why. uh. are you here."
It's the only thing they can make themself say right now. They know that their racing thoughts and conflict is shown on their face as clearly as if it was written there, so at the very least they don't have to worry about their statement being considered thought out in any way. It's obvious that it's the only thing they could manage to say with all the thoughts racing through their head.
"To apologize," Zababa answers, gently setting the cat down so she can scurry over to hide behind Maram.
Hearing Zababa say that is a bit of a shock. Their erstwhile husband was never one for apologies.
"I met another Utur... they explained to me some of the pain that had been inflicted on them by the actions of another who made them eldritch much as I did to you. I had no idea how badly it would hurt you... how totally it would upend your reality. I'm sorry."
"... how do I know you're telling the truth? you seem like you are, but how can I be absolutely sure?" Their eyes narrow slightly. They're... visibly still processing the fact Zababa is even here, still almost in shock at the sight of him. Their reactions are... dulled by it.
"its been. long enough that you might have learned how to lie to me. long enough that you might have decided lying was worth it."
Maram stares. They don't know what to do. Part of them wants so badly to believe him, but part of them is terrified that this is a trick, a trap of some kind, something. Their mind is racing and they can't figure out what to do.
"... why? why did. did you do it in the first place?"
It's a question they've been wondering for years, though perhaps not one to ask while they're doubting his truthfulness.
They blink. That... wasn't the answer they were expecting.
"losing me...?"
Does he mean to death? Or something else? They weren't that old back then, were they?
"that... seems like something you should have mentioned at least...? i dont remember you ever... seeming like that was something you were worried about."
They ignore the fact that some of their memories have become hazy recently.
"That, too, is probably my fault. We talked about how great it would be if you could be immortal like me, and I think I mistook that for a request to see it done," Zababa sighs.
"But it was always something I worried about. The worries became worse when little Kishar appeared. The idea that only one parent would be alive to see them grow through their life, that they could have to grow up with only one parent. As you can see, irony flows from my actions unbidden."
Zababa pauses.
"So, how is the little one? I'm sure you have kept them safe. Even without their arrogant fool of a father."
"maybe? i mean. uh. theyre an adult now. i can tell them you want to see them but its uh, its their choice in the end." They shuffle a little, nervous energy beginning to build up.
"i wish i could forget. im still mad about that." They make a sound that almost sounds like a laugh, almost like a sigh, and a bit too much like someone holding back a cough. "i cant even remember what i was making, i just remember that i couldnt make it cause of that guy."
They're caught somewhere between distress and comfort. A distant longing for the past and a fear for the present. Part of them so very desperately wants to just rush over and wrap their arms around Zababa and finally, finally relax. Part of them can't trust that this isn't a trick, can't let down their guard, can't risk it. And part of them is...
Part of them is...
Best not to think about it.
Maram's heart aches, and not for the first time the absence of true lungs in their chest grates on their nerves. Their false-lungs (a copy, a mimicry, a last desperate plea for normalcy) do a convincing facade of breathlessness, their chest tightening with muscles they don't have over ribs they don't need. A tiny, bitter part of them screams he made you like this! He took away your humanity! Make him suffer! but it's smaller than they would have expected, smaller than they spent years believing it was.
They bite their tongue. They aren't surprised that even now, they can't bring themself to hate Zababa. Fear him, perhaps, but never hate.
Maram hears a footstep and sees Zababa before them. But before they see him, they feel the trademark electric tingle and faint smell of ozone in the air, telling them that this is no trick of their imagination, and no dream or nightmare.
He's holding a cat.
"Hello, Utur, my love... It's been a long time."
All that power and fury... and yet he still looks on them with nothing but adoration.
@enterthemikeverse
Maram freezes. They curse internally, wishing that right here, right now, their body hadn't defaulted to freeze instead of fight or flight. They stare at Zababa, the same feelings they held when they ran flooding back to them. They don't blame the cat, their spice, she'd never do something that she thought would hurt them, but they can't stop the fear in their heart.
They don't know what to say. They don't know what to do. They don't understand.
"... why. uh. are you here."
It's the only thing they can make themself say right now. They know that their racing thoughts and conflict is shown on their face as clearly as if it was written there, so at the very least they don't have to worry about their statement being considered thought out in any way. It's obvious that it's the only thing they could manage to say with all the thoughts racing through their head.
"To apologize," Zababa answers, gently setting the cat down so she can scurry over to hide behind Maram.
Hearing Zababa say that is a bit of a shock. Their erstwhile husband was never one for apologies.
"I met another Utur... they explained to me some of the pain that had been inflicted on them by the actions of another who made them eldritch much as I did to you. I had no idea how badly it would hurt you... how totally it would upend your reality. I'm sorry."
"... how do I know you're telling the truth? you seem like you are, but how can I be absolutely sure?" Their eyes narrow slightly. They're... visibly still processing the fact Zababa is even here, still almost in shock at the sight of him. Their reactions are... dulled by it.
"its been. long enough that you might have learned how to lie to me. long enough that you might have decided lying was worth it."
Maram stares. They don't know what to do. Part of them wants so badly to believe him, but part of them is terrified that this is a trick, a trap of some kind, something. Their mind is racing and they can't figure out what to do.
"... why? why did. did you do it in the first place?"
It's a question they've been wondering for years, though perhaps not one to ask while they're doubting his truthfulness.
They blink. That... wasn't the answer they were expecting.
"losing me...?"
Does he mean to death? Or something else? They weren't that old back then, were they?
"that... seems like something you should have mentioned at least...? i dont remember you ever... seeming like that was something you were worried about."
They ignore the fact that some of their memories have become hazy recently.
"That, too, is probably my fault. We talked about how great it would be if you could be immortal like me, and I think I mistook that for a request to see it done," Zababa sighs.
"But it was always something I worried about. The worries became worse when little Kishar appeared. The idea that only one parent would be alive to see them grow through their life, that they could have to grow up with only one parent. As you can see, irony flows from my actions unbidden."
Zababa pauses.
"So, how is the little one? I'm sure you have kept them safe. Even without their arrogant fool of a father."
"maybe? i mean. uh. theyre an adult now. i can tell them you want to see them but its uh, its their choice in the end." They shuffle a little, nervous energy beginning to build up.
Maram hears a footstep and sees Zababa before them. But before they see him, they feel the trademark electric tingle and faint smell of ozone in the air, telling them that this is no trick of their imagination, and no dream or nightmare.
He's holding a cat.
"Hello, Utur, my love... It's been a long time."
All that power and fury... and yet he still looks on them with nothing but adoration.
@enterthemikeverse
Maram freezes. They curse internally, wishing that right here, right now, their body hadn't defaulted to freeze instead of fight or flight. They stare at Zababa, the same feelings they held when they ran flooding back to them. They don't blame the cat, their spice, she'd never do something that she thought would hurt them, but they can't stop the fear in their heart.
They don't know what to say. They don't know what to do. They don't understand.
"... why. uh. are you here."
It's the only thing they can make themself say right now. They know that their racing thoughts and conflict is shown on their face as clearly as if it was written there, so at the very least they don't have to worry about their statement being considered thought out in any way. It's obvious that it's the only thing they could manage to say with all the thoughts racing through their head.
"To apologize," Zababa answers, gently setting the cat down so she can scurry over to hide behind Maram.
Hearing Zababa say that is a bit of a shock. Their erstwhile husband was never one for apologies.
"I met another Utur... they explained to me some of the pain that had been inflicted on them by the actions of another who made them eldritch much as I did to you. I had no idea how badly it would hurt you... how totally it would upend your reality. I'm sorry."
"... how do I know you're telling the truth? you seem like you are, but how can I be absolutely sure?" Their eyes narrow slightly. They're... visibly still processing the fact Zababa is even here, still almost in shock at the sight of him. Their reactions are... dulled by it.
"its been. long enough that you might have learned how to lie to me. long enough that you might have decided lying was worth it."
Maram stares. They don't know what to do. Part of them wants so badly to believe him, but part of them is terrified that this is a trick, a trap of some kind, something. Their mind is racing and they can't figure out what to do.
"... why? why did. did you do it in the first place?"
It's a question they've been wondering for years, though perhaps not one to ask while they're doubting his truthfulness.
They blink. That... wasn't the answer they were expecting.
"losing me...?"
Does he mean to death? Or something else? They weren't that old back then, were they?
"that... seems like something you should have mentioned at least...? i dont remember you ever... seeming like that was something you were worried about."
They ignore the fact that some of their memories have become hazy recently.
"That, too, is probably my fault. We talked about how great it would be if you could be immortal like me, and I think I mistook that for a request to see it done," Zababa sighs.
"But it was always something I worried about. The worries became worse when little Kishar appeared. The idea that only one parent would be alive to see them grow through their life, that they could have to grow up with only one parent. As you can see, irony flows from my actions unbidden."
Zababa pauses.
"So, how is the little one? I'm sure you have kept them safe. Even without their arrogant fool of a father."
Maram hears a footstep and sees Zababa before them. But before they see him, they feel the trademark electric tingle and faint smell of ozone in the air, telling them that this is no trick of their imagination, and no dream or nightmare.
He's holding a cat.
"Hello, Utur, my love... It's been a long time."
All that power and fury... and yet he still looks on them with nothing but adoration.
@enterthemikeverse
Maram freezes. They curse internally, wishing that right here, right now, their body hadn't defaulted to freeze instead of fight or flight. They stare at Zababa, the same feelings they held when they ran flooding back to them. They don't blame the cat, their spice, she'd never do something that she thought would hurt them, but they can't stop the fear in their heart.
They don't know what to say. They don't know what to do. They don't understand.
"... why. uh. are you here."
It's the only thing they can make themself say right now. They know that their racing thoughts and conflict is shown on their face as clearly as if it was written there, so at the very least they don't have to worry about their statement being considered thought out in any way. It's obvious that it's the only thing they could manage to say with all the thoughts racing through their head.
"To apologize," Zababa answers, gently setting the cat down so she can scurry over to hide behind Maram.
Hearing Zababa say that is a bit of a shock. Their erstwhile husband was never one for apologies.
"I met another Utur... they explained to me some of the pain that had been inflicted on them by the actions of another who made them eldritch much as I did to you. I had no idea how badly it would hurt you... how totally it would upend your reality. I'm sorry."
"... how do I know you're telling the truth? you seem like you are, but how can I be absolutely sure?" Their eyes narrow slightly. They're... visibly still processing the fact Zababa is even here, still almost in shock at the sight of him. Their reactions are... dulled by it.
"its been. long enough that you might have learned how to lie to me. long enough that you might have decided lying was worth it."
Maram stares. They don't know what to do. Part of them wants so badly to believe him, but part of them is terrified that this is a trick, a trap of some kind, something. Their mind is racing and they can't figure out what to do.
"... why? why did. did you do it in the first place?"
It's a question they've been wondering for years, though perhaps not one to ask while they're doubting his truthfulness.
They blink. That... wasn't the answer they were expecting.
"losing me...?"
Does he mean to death? Or something else? They weren't that old back then, were they?
"that... seems like something you should have mentioned at least...? i dont remember you ever... seeming like that was something you were worried about."
They ignore the fact that some of their memories have become hazy recently.
Maram hears a footstep and sees Zababa before them. But before they see him, they feel the trademark electric tingle and faint smell of ozone in the air, telling them that this is no trick of their imagination, and no dream or nightmare.
He's holding a cat.
"Hello, Utur, my love... It's been a long time."
All that power and fury... and yet he still looks on them with nothing but adoration.
@enterthemikeverse
Maram freezes. They curse internally, wishing that right here, right now, their body hadn't defaulted to freeze instead of fight or flight. They stare at Zababa, the same feelings they held when they ran flooding back to them. They don't blame the cat, their spice, she'd never do something that she thought would hurt them, but they can't stop the fear in their heart.
They don't know what to say. They don't know what to do. They don't understand.
"... why. uh. are you here."
It's the only thing they can make themself say right now. They know that their racing thoughts and conflict is shown on their face as clearly as if it was written there, so at the very least they don't have to worry about their statement being considered thought out in any way. It's obvious that it's the only thing they could manage to say with all the thoughts racing through their head.
"To apologize," Zababa answers, gently setting the cat down so she can scurry over to hide behind Maram.
Hearing Zababa say that is a bit of a shock. Their erstwhile husband was never one for apologies.
"I met another Utur... they explained to me some of the pain that had been inflicted on them by the actions of another who made them eldritch much as I did to you. I had no idea how badly it would hurt you... how totally it would upend your reality. I'm sorry."
"... how do I know you're telling the truth? you seem like you are, but how can I be absolutely sure?" Their eyes narrow slightly. They're... visibly still processing the fact Zababa is even here, still almost in shock at the sight of him. Their reactions are... dulled by it.
"its been. long enough that you might have learned how to lie to me. long enough that you might have decided lying was worth it."
Maram stares. They don't know what to do. Part of them wants so badly to believe him, but part of them is terrified that this is a trick, a trap of some kind, something. Their mind is racing and they can't figure out what to do.
"... why? why did. did you do it in the first place?"
It's a question they've been wondering for years, though perhaps not one to ask while they're doubting his truthfulness.
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Maram hears a footstep and sees Zababa before them. But before they see him, they feel the trademark electric tingle and faint smell of ozone in the air, telling them that this is no trick of their imagination, and no dream or nightmare.
He's holding a cat.
"Hello, Utur, my love... It's been a long time."
All that power and fury... and yet he still looks on them with nothing but adoration.
@enterthemikeverse
Maram freezes. They curse internally, wishing that right here, right now, their body hadn't defaulted to freeze instead of fight or flight. They stare at Zababa, the same feelings they held when they ran flooding back to them. They don't blame the cat, their spice, she'd never do something that she thought would hurt them, but they can't stop the fear in their heart.
They don't know what to say. They don't know what to do. They don't understand.
"... why. uh. are you here."
It's the only thing they can make themself say right now. They know that their racing thoughts and conflict is shown on their face as clearly as if it was written there, so at the very least they don't have to worry about their statement being considered thought out in any way. It's obvious that it's the only thing they could manage to say with all the thoughts racing through their head.
"To apologize," Zababa answers, gently setting the cat down so she can scurry over to hide behind Maram.
Hearing Zababa say that is a bit of a shock. Their erstwhile husband was never one for apologies.
"I met another Utur... they explained to me some of the pain that had been inflicted on them by the actions of another who made them eldritch much as I did to you. I had no idea how badly it would hurt you... how totally it would upend your reality. I'm sorry."
"... how do I know you're telling the truth? you seem like you are, but how can I be absolutely sure?" Their eyes narrow slightly. They're... visibly still processing the fact Zababa is even here, still almost in shock at the sight of him. Their reactions are... dulled by it.
"its been. long enough that you might have learned how to lie to me. long enough that you might have decided lying was worth it."
Maram hears a footstep and sees Zababa before them. But before they see him, they feel the trademark electric tingle and faint smell of ozone in the air, telling them that this is no trick of their imagination, and no dream or nightmare.
He's holding a cat.
"Hello, Utur, my love... It's been a long time."
All that power and fury... and yet he still looks on them with nothing but adoration.
@enterthemikeverse
Maram freezes. They curse internally, wishing that right here, right now, their body hadn't defaulted to freeze instead of fight or flight. They stare at Zababa, the same feelings they held when they ran flooding back to them. They don't blame the cat, their spice, she'd never do something that she thought would hurt them, but they can't stop the fear in their heart.
They don't know what to say. They don't know what to do. They don't understand.
"... why. uh. are you here."
It's the only thing they can make themself say right now. They know that their racing thoughts and conflict is shown on their face as clearly as if it was written there, so at the very least they don't have to worry about their statement being considered thought out in any way. It's obvious that it's the only thing they could manage to say with all the thoughts racing through their head.
*Well, there's a door here. Seems similar to the ones that have been appearing lately. It looks oddly fancy in an inexplicable way... There's a strange dial on the door that can't be adjusted, which is currently blank. There's a note on the door.
The note reads "This Door Connects With Any Of The Various Timelines I Have Connected To My Garden. Right Now, It Is Set To Pull Through Whoever Is Closest When It Opens. I Have Added A Dial To The Door To Indicate If A Person Is Their Timelines Equivalent Of Myself Or Kishar - Indicated By Cyan - Utur, - Indicated By Yellow - Alam - Indicated By Magenta - Or If They Are Someone Specific To Their Timeline - Indicated By Green. Caution; Not Everyone Is Friendly. Should You Wish To Remove Someone Back To Their Original Timeline, Just Call My Name. Try Not To Cause Too Much Trouble. - Persephone."
The note is written in a slightly-glowing cyan ink on black paper. It smells oddly of roses.*
"No, I just keep getting picked up and dragged places at random." He sighs, clearly tired. "It is a very long story. I am... very tired. I wanted to go to bed."
"I see. I'm guessing these doors are causing a lot of problems for people native to other timelines. You don't seem to be from the timeline I'm trying to find, so I'm happy to let you go." She starts idly playing with a knife as she talks.
"I appreciate that. Thank you for your courtesy." He nods, politely. "Glad you do not seem to feel the need to, I do not know, stab me out of principle."
"Ah, fair enough. I am a royal advisor myself. I cannot even really be hurt that badly by being stabbed, but it seems to make people feel better or something." He shrugs. "Half the time I find it hard to blame them, but it is what it is."
*Well, there's a door here. Seems similar to the ones that have been appearing lately. It looks oddly fancy in an inexplicable way... There's a strange dial on the door that can't be adjusted, which is currently blank. There's a note on the door.
The note reads "This Door Connects With Any Of The Various Timelines I Have Connected To My Garden. Right Now, It Is Set To Pull Through Whoever Is Closest When It Opens. I Have Added A Dial To The Door To Indicate If A Person Is Their Timelines Equivalent Of Myself Or Kishar - Indicated By Cyan - Utur, - Indicated By Yellow - Alam - Indicated By Magenta - Or If They Are Someone Specific To Their Timeline - Indicated By Green. Caution; Not Everyone Is Friendly. Should You Wish To Remove Someone Back To Their Original Timeline, Just Call My Name. Try Not To Cause Too Much Trouble. - Persephone."
The note is written in a slightly-glowing cyan ink on black paper. It smells oddly of roses.*
Just being near the door is making The Whispers louder, making Macros feel apprehensive that another Episode might begin soon. So apprehensive, in fact, that she sits on the floor instead of the ceiling when he opens it.
"You can call me Amir. Amir Darzi." The man sighs, softly. "I am a fool. Technically I am CEO of a company, but I have made so many mistakes I think fool is more appropriate."
*Well, there's a door here. Seems similar to the ones that have been appearing lately. It looks oddly fancy in an inexplicable way... There's a strange dial on the door that can't be adjusted, which is currently blank. There's a note on the door.
The note reads "This Door Connects With Any Of The Various Timelines I Have Connected To My Garden. Right Now, It Is Set To Pull Through Whoever Is Closest When It Opens. I Have Added A Dial To The Door To Indicate If A Person Is Their Timelines Equivalent Of Myself Or Kishar - Indicated By Cyan - Utur, - Indicated By Yellow - Alam - Indicated By Magenta - Or If They Are Someone Specific To Their Timeline - Indicated By Green. Caution; Not Everyone Is Friendly. Should You Wish To Remove Someone Back To Their Original Timeline, Just Call My Name. Try Not To Cause Too Much Trouble. - Persephone."
The note is written in a slightly-glowing cyan ink on black paper. It smells oddly of roses.*
The dial switches to yellow, and a person with white hair walks out. It's in locs and tied up out of the person's face. They're wearing a pair of black glasses, and their outfit looks like one from a high-end bar. Their expression is one of annoyance, and they glance at Vern, arms crossed.
"you. have you seen a lady with one arm around here? i'm lookin' for her."
Their accent is unplacable, but seems to have some slight influence from somewhere in rural america.
"persephone wanted to join a trend id assume. they're chaotic like that sometimes." The stranger shrugs. "if you haven't seen my gal i might just leave - she's a nervous girl, my nadia. skittish. don't want her to panic if she's been pulled somewhere like i have."
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*Well, there's a door here. Seems similar to the ones that have been appearing lately. It looks oddly fancy in an inexplicable way... There's a strange dial on the door that can't be adjusted, which is currently blank. There's a note on the door.
The note reads "This Door Connects With Any Of The Various Timelines I Have Connected To My Garden. Right Now, It Is Set To Pull Through Whoever Is Closest When It Opens. I Have Added A Dial To The Door To Indicate If A Person Is Their Timelines Equivalent Of Myself Or Kishar - Indicated By Cyan - Utur, - Indicated By Yellow - Alam - Indicated By Magenta - Or If They Are Someone Specific To Their Timeline - Indicated By Green. Caution; Not Everyone Is Friendly. Should You Wish To Remove Someone Back To Their Original Timeline, Just Call My Name. Try Not To Cause Too Much Trouble. - Persephone."
The note is written in a slightly-glowing cyan ink on black paper. It smells oddly of roses.*
The dial flicks to yellow, and the person who stumbles out is wearing a sun-bleached toga which may have at one point been a shade of green. Their black hair is in locs, and their dark brown eyes glance around, full of visible confusion. They're currently barefoot, and from their confusion they seem to have only just woken up.
The person in question is undeniably Utur, but... they're human.
They mumble something in Sumerian, and it isn't necessary to know the language to realise they just said something along the lines of "Where the actual fuck am I?"
"Oh, I just look like this... uh... I'm, uh... Celtic, I guess. From way, way out west. Like, way outside of Sumer, even far past Tuttul or Ebla, on the other side of the Mediterranean."
Mike scratches his head as he struggles to put the fact that his family is French in terms they can understand.
"Anyway, I don't know you, you just happen to look a lot like somebody I know. My name is Mike."
"Oh. Hello. I'm Utur." They still seem... very confused as to why he's so pale, but are choosing to ignore it for now. "Where am I? And what are you wearing? It looks inconvenient."
"I... I don't think I could explain where you are without confusing you even more... But my clothing is a lot more practical than it looks. Especially since I live in a colder climate."
"I like your clothes, though. Very flowy, looks perfect for warm weather!"
"Thanks." They nod, politely. "... I'm choosing not to think too much about what this place is made of, because I already got confused when Gishkim explained the water cycle to me, and I think this is probably more complicated than that."
"Yeah... Uh... honestly I don't even entirely know what all this place is made of, this building is fucked up and weird even by the standards of buildings from around here. This is a wild, wild place."
Mike stands there for a moment, unsure what exactly to say. As the silence drags on, he blurts out, "You know, you look a lot like my partner."
"I see." They pause. "Don't do that again. I don't need to know more things, I know enough already." They aren't upset or anything, they honestly sound like they're simply of the opinion that they know enough things. It's... fairly clear that they aren't completely serious, they just don't particually want to know more things they'll never have a reason to use elsewhere.
"You could still have been weird flirting though."
*Well, there's a door here. Seems similar to the ones that have been appearing lately. It looks oddly fancy in an inexplicable way... There's a strange dial on the door that can't be adjusted, which is currently blank. There's a note on the door.
The note reads "This Door Connects With Any Of The Various Timelines I Have Connected To My Garden. Right Now, It Is Set To Pull Through Whoever Is Closest When It Opens. I Have Added A Dial To The Door To Indicate If A Person Is Their Timelines Equivalent Of Myself Or Kishar - Indicated By Cyan - Utur, - Indicated By Yellow - Alam - Indicated By Magenta - Or If They Are Someone Specific To Their Timeline - Indicated By Green. Caution; Not Everyone Is Friendly. Should You Wish To Remove Someone Back To Their Original Timeline, Just Call My Name. Try Not To Cause Too Much Trouble. - Persephone."
The note is written in a slightly-glowing cyan ink on black paper. It smells oddly of roses.*
The dial switches to yellow, and a person with white hair walks out. It's in locs and tied up out of the person's face. They're wearing a pair of black glasses, and their outfit looks like one from a high-end bar. Their expression is one of annoyance, and they glance at Vern, arms crossed.
"you. have you seen a lady with one arm around here? i'm lookin' for her."
Their accent is unplacable, but seems to have some slight influence from somewhere in rural america.
"persephone wanted to join a trend id assume. they're chaotic like that sometimes." The stranger shrugs. "if you haven't seen my gal i might just leave - she's a nervous girl, my nadia. skittish. don't want her to panic if she's been pulled somewhere like i have."
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