138 - A God, Dreaming

Lin

Earlier, I had a foul dream.

I wouldn't be surprised if it was some kind of tape that was left in system to try to undermine me by someone in particular that I won't yet mention. 

But if I do find out that I'm right about other things about this person, then I may very well reveal her name later down the line.

That dream seemed to accuse me of deliberate incontinence, of marking territory, as if I was somehow sub-person. The racism implied towards my race outside of Sim context (which is of the Sal people) is quite obvious, when you think about it.

She also tried to play me off as dumb and naïve by putting me with someone later down the line who basically admitted to killing a skier and leaving their body in the area we were walking in.

The murder and subsequent hiding of the body had been a mystery in that place up until that point, and I was only with this woman because I was meant to be some kind of youth leader, and she was a part of the program. Buses in this also seem to be really important, but for what reason, I'm not sure.

Whatever reason it was left there, it leaves a nasty taste in my mouth, and I won't let it be until it is washed out of me with some form of soap.

And naturally, I now have Soap by The Oh Hellos in my head.

Let these things be water off your wings, kid.

I can't help but smile.

Áine!

She grins, and opens her arms to greet me with an embrace that smells of roses and grass and home. I take this embrace and reciprocate as best I can.

I missed ye, lad.

Ending the embrace, we both sit down on the chairs in the cinema room. I shuffle closer to her and get comfortable.

I missed you too, cousin.

She smiles, though I can sense her concern.

Ye've been struggling, haven't ye?

Hesitating, I ponder over what's best to say to her about it. Knowing her, and knowing my other Irish relatives and ancestors, though, I ought to be forthright.

I have been struggling.

I sigh. I'm almost on the verge of tears. Gods, I'm tired. Just tired of everything.

You know, I dream of a life in which I can be happy, where I'm able to do everything for myself, where I can make my own decisions, where everyone I have in my life is there by mutual choice, and loves and respects me for me as a sentient being, and what I can offer on a mass scale. 

I dream of being the God I once was, the happy, bubbly person I once was, who could look life in the eye and say "try again" whenever it tried to knock me down. 

I dream of being that which was stolen from me again. But how can you reclaim something that was stolen when the thieves who took those things from you refuse to give them back? Do you become a thief yourself by stealing those things back, or do you rebuild on your own?

My life is broken, Áine. I live for no one but me any more. My nemeton is full of people who care for me and love me, but my physical self is starving and dying from the lack of love, the lack of companionship that consumes me. 

I'm lost.

Áine is silent, and stretches out her arms again for me to accept her hug. We stay like that for a long time, and I find myself sobbing soon enough. She rubs my back.

We'll find ye, lad. I promise ye.

But how?

Spiritual tracking of family. It's standard. Not everyone knows where you are, but those who do can help.

I can only think of a few people who do, and I think it's likely to be in varying degrees. Some may know a name, or the rough estimation of my location spiritually. It's not a precise guarantee, but it's a start.

You think people will divulge exact information to each other?

Well, it's less dangerous to do so now, given that you've undermined rickmansworth's influence a significant amount.

Fair point.

If that's the case, I'm more than happy for those who know to exchange info about me.

She nods.

Great. That means people can get some action plans started. Naturally, we'll have to think carefully about who says what to whom, and make sure to eliminate anybody who could potentially be pretending to be any of us, but leave that to us unless ye see anything, aye?

Alright. I think mrs voldy may have tried to pretend to be you, though.

Aye. That's not a surprise. Pretty sure she's tried to pretend to be Danú as well, but everyone knows Danú when they see her, so it's pretty easy to tell when it isn't her. I'll make sure everyone's made aware of who has tried to be who from your perspective and your system, if ye don't mind me knowing.

Of course!

Go raibh maith agat, by the way.

She beams.

Of course, lad. All of us are here to help if and when ye need it, so don't hesitate to ask. Alright?

I nod, and she ruffles my hair.

Aye. I've got to have a few conversations, but I'll leave ye with Terrence whilst I do that. Sound good?

Terrence takes a seat on the other side of me, and offers me a hug, which I accept and reciprocate.

Ya.

Fabulous. I'll be back in a bit.

She leaves, presumably to talk with my parents, and Terrence addresses me.

We all need to be careful.

I know.

He nods.

You probably know better than anyone, but I want to make sure anyway. Especially given that mrs voldy has spiritually stalked you before. They need to know that before information is exchanged.

I nod.

Da knows, so I'm pretty sure he'll address that when it comes up.

He sighs.

Good, because you deserve to be safe, especially from a bitch like her.

Unexpected that he'd call her that, but he's not wrong.

Trugarez.

He runs his hands through my hair.

Always.