Questions and Answers
A series written by JCat and Catfish to once and for all sort out Relic's issues.
It wasn’t quite dark.
It was dim, murky even, but not really dark. Which was odd since there wasn’t any source of light in the long winding hallways, just a dim glow that didn’t seem to come from anywhere in particular. There was a moist feeling of caveyness in the air, but the walls were too smooth to be natural rock. Besides caveyness isn’t really a word. As Relic and Catfish turned another corner the only thing that was certain was that they were no longer on the Xavior.
“Where are we?” Relic asked at length.
“Technically we’re still back on the ship.” Catfish replied, cocking her head to the side in thought, “In a sense we’re nowhere, since logically where we are cannot exist, or at least it isn’t really a place in the sense of it being somewhere you can take a walk in. But we’re using it as a place since it’s easier to talk about something you can see.”
“Oh.” Relic paused to digest this, “What is this…place, called?”
“It has lots of names.” Catfish scampered ahead and peered around the next corner, “I usually call it the Crossroads, capitalized. Come on, we’re here.”
Curious, Relic followed the fuzor into a room of exits. The walls of the room were lined with doorways, the floor covered in trapdoors, and the ceiling riddled with holes, openings, and portals of every description. Skipping in Catfish had almost tripped down a narrow staircase winding steeply down into the ground. To the right he saw a large window that led to a ramp going gradually up beside a zigzagging pathway that wound out of sight on the second turn. There was an avenue obscured by a pink curtain, a ladder to a hole in the ceiling, and one whose entrance was lined with dangerous looking stalagmites and stalactites that bore an unsettling resemblance to teeth.
“What a strange room.” Relic commented going farther in.
“It’s not a room.” Catfish said, using the railing to pull herself back up, “It’s a Crossroads, one of the BIG ones. A mistake here could prove fatal, or worse.”
“It’s a metaphor.” Relic said, the remark teetered between being a statement or a question.
“Yep. Visual examples are neato.”
The assassin, paused in front of an open doorway and looked down a rocky path that disappeared into a gray haze, “Why can’t I see down any of them?”
Catfish walked over to look beside him, “Mists of time. You can’t see the future from back here, you can only guess at it from how the trail looks. Now, we’re at the Crossroad, where are you going?”
Relic blinked in surprise, then frowned under his cowl and stepped back into the center of the room to get a better look at all the portals. Indecision plagued him shortly and in the end he settled on the ramp just to get over the decision, it looked inviting enough. The mists receded as he approached. He walked down the road for what seemed like a long time and a short time, both at the same time, how odd.
He saw himself move through life from two perspectives, as himself and as a viewer. He watched strangers pass and saw familiar faces in new lights. He watched battles, discussions, reflections, but mostly battles. The path evened out and became narrower. Relic considered turning back to the Crossroads and turned just to see a solid wall behind him.
He turned the next corner. The ground disappeared from under him and he walked off the edge of a sheer drop down into darkness.
Relic came to a sudden stop as his cape caught on something. Catfish pulled him back up, out of the pit. She was breathing heavily and looked rather sheepish as if she’d just done something she knew she wasn’t supposed to do.
“Let’s go back to the Crossroads.” She suggested, half to Relic and half to someone else. Someone else appeared to be listening because, promptly, they were. “We probably need to answer a few more questions before you decide where you’re going.”
“Questions? Such as what?” Relic asked. Walking off a cliff was disorienting, but this entire ordeal was disorienting and profoundly surreal so he hardly needed to recover.
“Such as who are you?”
“Relic.”
“Who is Relic.”
“Me.”
“We need more visual examples.” Catfish announced, “And the best way to get them is to look inside yourself. Can I use your katana?”
Relic hesitated for a cycle. Last time Catfish had gotten her light-fingered hands on his prized sword it had taken him the better part of two missions to get it back. He ended up giving it to her anyway. Catfish’s eyes went from bright violet to a deep royal purple as she examined the blade. Then she brought the weapon up and sliced down, cutting Relic symmetrically open in one swift and fluid movement.
Relic felt extremely strange. He knew he probably ought to be dead. He supposed he might be, under normal circumstances his wound would be fatal. But these circumstances were far from normal and instead of the cold clasp of death he got a the strange sensation he was being turned inside out and folded in on himself at the same time. Finally it stopped and he opened his eyes to see Catfish standing over him.
"What.was that?"
"A shortcut." Catfish replied, "Usually, finding your way inside yourself takes training, mental discipline, and a long period of meditation. My way's faster though. Do you want your sword back?"
Relic wordlessly bent over and took the weapon out of Catfish’s outstretched hand. When he looked back up there was a mirror standing in front of him. The assassin cautiously approached the mirror, superficially aware of Catfish observing behind him. In the mirror the assassin saw himself reflected, inching towards the mirror. A couple foot steps away Relic stopped and examined his reflection.
“Is that all?” he asked sounding confused and irritated as he turned around, “we had to go through all that for this?”
“Oh… is that enough for you?” Catfish politely inquired from behind him. “Look again.”
Relic looked back at the mirror and found that a streaming wall of text had replaced his reflection. The text was dotted here and there with pictures, some of him, and Relic saw references to himself sprinkled throughout the document. After studying it a moment realised it was in the format of an Assassin’s/Bounty Hunter’s guild report on him. Abruptly the image vanished to be replaced by the image of a bar he saw Querion sitting next to someone he didn’t recognize.
“So who is this “Relic?” the figure asked and Querion began telling him about the fierce warrior who was his friend.
Abruptly the image flashed again, a darkened room, Predacon insignia on the wall, on a view screen the faces of the resistance members flashed past.
“Stop.” A voice ordered, Suddenly the screen paused on a blurry image that Relic identified as himself. “Who is this one?” the shadowy figure asked, pointing at the screen.
There was a nervous shuffling of papers and then a nasal voice spoke up. “He’s an unconfirmed member of the resistance sir, maybe an assassin,” the voice droned on offering a bit of vague information about Relic.
“Is this… who I am?” Relic asked softly.
“Still confused?” Catfish asked, her voice sounding eager to help. “This one can tell you.” Abruptly the image flashed back to Relic’s reflection. The assassin watched his double in the mirror perfectly mime his movements. “Tell me who you are.”
Relic looked at the mirror a moment, his brow knitted with concentration. Then spun away frustrated. “I don’t know… I… I don’t know.” He said, he looked at the mirror then back at Catfish, his face imploring, but the little fuzor had nothing to say. Relic moved about his voice agitated, his hands gesturing wildly. “I can’t tell you… I’m not sure… I don’t even know what I do… what my… What I am… or What am I… I can’t…”
“What was that?” Catfish asked suddenly, her eyes bright and ears perked.
Relic spun back to her “I said; What am I.” He explained quickly. “But I don’t know if….”
“What did you say?” Catfish asked her whiskers twitching.
The assassin spun back around in irritation “What am I?” he said emphatically.
Catfish smiled.
“Many, many things.” Catfish said standing, “A fighter, a soldier, a friend, a killer and more. All those aspects are mixed up inside you and they’re constantly getting churned around. It’s like a tossed salad!”
“Wonderful.” Relic sighed, sitting down. Something solid materialized beneath him as he did.
“A tossed salad is a perfectly good thing to be.” Catfish informed him, “But it breeds conflict. So you’ve got plenty of that. For instance,” Catfish leapt up and squatted beside him, “You have a strict set of honorable principles, however on a regular basis you violate them to do your job.”
“You fight like a warrior, but murder as an assassin.”
“You crave friendship, but fear attachment for the pain it brings.”
“You are mired in guilt over those who’ve died, but continue to cause death.”
“You kill, yet you care.”
As the last word echoed off into the distance of his mind Relic realized he was the one talking. Catfish was watching him with interest.
“And deep inside,” She whispered in his ear, “I suspect you may be a hopeless romantic.”
“But what do I do about this? How can I fix it?” Relic asked desperately.
“It doesn’t need fixing.” The panther blinked at the small fuzor, “Like I said, a tossed salad is a perfectly fine thing to be, conflict is healthy.”
“Then what’s wrong with me?”
“Look around inside yourself and tell me.” Catfish fell silent and waited. Relic stayed silent for long time, trying to figure out what he was supposed say now.
Look around inside yourself. Well, that was easy enough. Relic stood and walked off into his mind, Catfish trotted after him. As soon as he set off he knew where he was going, but he wasn’t sure what he’d find when he got there. The area was strange, but familiar. They passed though deep caverns for deep thought, twisting mazelike tunnels, and creatures he recognized as aspects of himself.
And then, they stopped. Relic was in front of the mirror again and saw his reflection, again, but it was different now. The image he saw was him, and not him. It smiled cruelly and there was a terrible gleam in its eye.
But the thing Relic noticed was its sword; its sword was stained crimson with blood.
“While I was possessed.” Relic began, not taking his eyes off the image, “I murdered a young girl. I ripped her to pieces, left her corpse mutilated on the ground.”
“You were possessed.” Catfish pointed out.
“But it wasn’t just that, it wasn’t just them. It was me. They killed and I reveled in it. Killing gives me power. Power over others. To hold another’s life in my hands…” Relic grasped the side of the mirror with one clawed hand, looking straight into the eyes of his double, “It’s a disgusting, but wonderful thing. I hate it, but I need it.”
In one swift movement Relic wrenched the mirror off its stand and threw it violently. It hit the ground and shattered, covering the floor with shards of glass. Catfish walked over, picked up a shard, and examined it.
“It still exists.” She told him quietly, “You can’t see it anymore, but it still exists.”
“What can I do about it?” Relic asked, wrapping his cape around him as he stared at the broken glass.
“Power.” Catfish said as she tossed the shard away, “the ultimate drug and eternal addiction. You can’t get rid of it, it’s part of you, but you can defeat it.”
“How?” Relic asked again.
“You start by not killing people.”
Relic snorted, “We all get by one way or another, unfortunately my… profession… pays the bills, more importantly they all have various… hooks in me. I couldn’t leave that life even if I wanted too.”
Catfish looked at the assassin thoughtfully. “True… but you and me both know that you’ve dodged them and their influences before. It’s completely within your power to be a bit more, choosy about who you kill. You know the difference between right and wrong. You know who you think is innocent. Start there. I don’t think you’re by any means done with them yet, but that’s a different battle entirely. However distancing yourself from them is a step towards ending this one.”
Relic tapped his foot, moodily resting his head on a closed fist as he stared at the ground. “I don’t know… I have trouble changing it’s different and unknown… and… and…”
“Frightening?” Catfish asked with an arched eyebrow. Relic turned around irritated, but after a moment’s thought, conceded, reluctantly nodding his head. “Maybe not as different and unknown as you think.” Catfish said with the hint of knowing smile. Airily waving a hand behind her. From where she had gestured came a low growl, then a pair of green eyes, pierced the darkness. On silent feet, a large black panther padded out of the darkness, and looked out at the two bots. “Recognize him?” Catfish asked.
“Yes… it’s me… or at least what I sometimes look like.” Relic said, confusion in his voice.
“Yes it is. A panther is a predator, it kills, it kills without mercy or remorse, but it never kills for fun. It kills because it has too, because it’s necessary for it’s survival. I’ve often found it interesting that you chose the panther as your alternate form.”
“I never chose the panther, it was foisted on me.”
Catfish waved Relic’s protest away. “Yes, yes I know that, but you know what I mean. It’s ironic, if you prefer.”
Relic stared at the Panther a moment, the panther looked back at him and then, turned ghosting back into the darkness. “I see your point,” the assassin murmured. “But… I mean… what IS the point. The point of me changing, what’s the point of all this introspection. Whether I change or not… it doesn’t matter, who is it going to effect… no one… I live… in… in a vacume… I mean, who cares?”
WAP
Catfish responded to the question by flicking her spear out of its compartment and bonking Relic smartly on the noggin.
“Gnaph!” Relic exclaimed, leaping back in surprise. He touched a claw to his head. Catfish wasn’t strong enough to actually injure him with the blunt end of her weapon, but the significance of the act stung.
“What was that for?” He asked, bewildered and somewhat hurt by the violence.
“For being a silly goomba.” Catfish replied, putting her spear away.
Relic blinked, the answer hadn’t helped his bewilderment, “What’s a goomba?”
“I have no idea, but what matters is that you’re a silly one. What other than a silly goomba could ask a question like ‘who cares?’ when he’s Relic?”
“I don’t know.” Relic replied, quite honestly.
“That’s okay.” Catfish pat him reassuringly on the head, “I’ll tell you. Querion cares, so does Timber and Rhapsody and Sphinx and me and lots of people I'm forgetting or don't know. You are a thoroughly cared about person, you are also a silly goomba, but that's endearing in its own way."
"Oh." Relic had to sort through 'Fish's sentence for a few cycles before he managed to separate the meaning from the general Catfishness. He took a few more cycles to think about it in context with everything else. This ended up taking more then just a few cycles, but Catfish patiently waited until he was oriented enough to respond. "How do I change then?"
Catfish squeaked excitedly and jumped up and down clapping her hands as if Relic had just agreed to take her to Cyberland Fun Park. "You start by not killing people." She repeated, calming down.
Relic snorted again, "I said this before they…"
"…is a useful, flexible pronoun." Catfish cheerfully finished for him, "We've been over this. I have tank loads of confidence in your ability to handle they, them, it, and whatever other vague grammatical phrases you come across. Besides, now you have me to help!"
Catfish sounded completely sincere through the entire sentence and especially enthusiastic during the last part. Relic had trouble not smiling when he imagined the results of asking the normal Catfish for help in this matter. They would be, in the least, comical.
"After that…" Catfish petered off as she lapsed into thought for a moment, "You can become a poet!"
"A poet." Relic stated, his voice devoid of any extreme emotion.
"Or something else." Catfish continued, "But being a poet is fun. You get to rhyme and wear dark glasses and play the bongos! I think you'd make a good poet!"
"Ah." Relic paused, he'd lost track of where they were again, so he asked the obvious question, "Where are we?"
"The exit." Catfish pointed at a large, perfectly round hole in the ground. The opening stood out from its surroundings like a beacon in the fog. It seemed, sharper, clearer, more real then everything else in the area. It was frightening. Reality often is.
"We're leaving?" Relic asked. There was a wistful note in his voice.
"There isn't much more to do here." Catfish walked to the hole and peered over the edge, "You know what you are, you know where you are, and you know you have to change. All that's left to do is choose a path."
Relic came up beside her and looked down. He could see the real world at the bottom. Bots and humans rushed around, working, playing, fighting, dying. "Shouldn't I go back to the crossroads for that?"
"You can do it just as well out there, it's more interesting anyway. Scoot." She said, pushing him forward.
Relic teetered on the brink of reality, then turned back, "Aren't you coming?"
"In a cycle," She replied, "I’ve got to finish a few things up in here. Do some spring-cleaning, make sure all that icky ancient evil is gone. But you need to go now, your mind's a useful place to visit, but it's not healthy to live inside."
Relic nodded, though he wasn't sure why, and jumped. As he fell it struck him that it might not be wise to leave a light-fingered, hyperactive fuzor that was known for causing catastrophic disasters alone inside his head. But by then it was too late and he woke up.
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