Akala Sillar
That’s some fucked-up shit. How old were you then? But you wanna be a lawyer, how many people can you help that way? A dozen? A hundred, if you’re super fucking lucky. That’s not what I would call “putting matters into one’s own hands”.
Who says mine won’t, though? In fact, I’m certain that it will. Unless nothing will ever change, and it’s not like there’s a single way in the world I’d live to see that.
18. I was 18 years old. Yes, a lawyer. But you see, if I help one person, that person can help another, and then that person can help another. It’s a web of change. And if I ever want to ‘take them down’ it’s not by their own means because I don’t want anyone to go through what I’ve experienced. No one deserves that. Not even those who oppress people, post-humans and humans alike. Because when you help one person, it’s like helping the rest of the nation.
(Source: akalasimagination)
See? I know that shit. Seen it far too often that people got more than screwed over for being fucking amazing. But know what? I want to hear that story. I wanna know what it took from you. Was? -raises her eyebrows before giving a light shake of her head- Gotta stop with that, in any case. Running away’s fucking pointless. Beat ‘em or die trying. And wanna know what the neat thing is about my way? It makes you fucking fearless. No showing your weakness is like it ceases to exist. Beat’em at their own game, you know? They aren’t invulnerable. Nobody fucking is.
My story? To make it short, I ran away from home to keep my family safe. And I ran into someone that made me a promise that if I help him, I no longer have to run away. Sadly, our plans didn’t work the way we expected it to. And now, I’m putting matters into my own hands, so to speak. Except I’m not rash about it, I want my change to last.
(Source: akalasimagination)
He caught himself from swearing merely out of respect for being in a church and surrounded by nuns. No matter how unlike stereotypes these people were, they still gave him dirty looks when he swore as a child and he liked to think this was his way of saying thanks. “I guess we’ll have to suffer.” He gave a long, drawn out sigh and earned himself a dirty look from the person nearest.
“I…” His words halted, lips pressed together with the realization he hadn’t given any thought to their lives outside of their religion, outside of their jobs. How many of them had given up their futures to ensure that he, and all the others who had been raised beside him, would? No matter how much of a hell hole his childhood had been, it was nothing compared to having to raise a bunch of brats. Arthur grimaced, leaning back into the seat with a quiet “I hadn’t thought of that before.” Quietly clearing his throat, he continued, “I suppose that’s a good thing to think of.”
Shooting her a look, almost with panic, he had to wretch his gaze away. What was this feeling? His stomach hadn’t hurt like this before, his shoulders hadn’t felt this heavy since… since ever, he could never remember a time and he had to school his face to hide another grimace. “Yeah, exactly that…. It must hurt worse when the people who die shouldn’t have yet,” he murmured, running a hand through his hair.
Arthur felt annoyed, the tightening in his chest coupled by the uncomfortable turn of his stomach made him question why he didn’t just leave then. But he was firmly glued to the seat, unable to even shift let alone stand up - and he couldn’t figure out why, could only watch the casket with gritted teeth. “Do you fear death then?”
Slightly confused with the look on his face, Akala blinked at him. She read him silently with the basic knowledge of psychology she learned. But the emotion of panic did not exactly mix with a funeral. But it had a lot to do with death. She kept her silence, though. Not wanting him to think that she was reading him, that she was trying to find out what he was thinking because she knew he preferred to keep his thoughts and emotions private. “It hurts most when you’re not ready. When one night you sing her to sleep, and when you wake up in the morning… she doesn’t anymore.” The tension on her shoulder eased, her focus returning to the casket. “That’s what happened to my dad when my grandma died. He never sang a single song after that.”
The heaviness at the pit of her stomach became more noticeable when he asked the question about death. The fear became more real when he asked if she was afraid of it to happen. She looked at him, not bothering to hide the fear in her eyes. “I just realized that I am,” her voice became suddenly tense. She chewed on her lower lip and glanced down, “not the dying part, the not experiencing life part. But there are things that I fear more than death. There are things far more terrible than not being able to feel.”
She suddenly realized how he felt, but she still had no clue why he felt that way. “Are you-” She turned back to him, obvious curiosity in the tone of her voice. “Are you afraid of death?”
No, I’m just having a fucking hard time imagining that somebody who holds an ability just doesn’t get any of this. There’s just too much shit people get for being post-human, no other reason. And where is that choice, hu? You get up to voice your opinion, you’re shot down like an animal. Fuckers want me to shut up, I’m not gonna go and admit defeat if that’s exactly what they want me to do. Choice as I see it is between being a fucking coward and opting out of that. - The moment of silence has Anthea thoughtful, she catches her breath herself and bites her lip at the question before starting to mumble- They did the same thing to my parents. Wanted them to shut up because being different was oh so fucking dangerous. But they didn’t bring my parents down, and I won’t go down either. And all that shit has just allowed me to see truths that others refuse to see.
That’s the funny thing about society. If you don’t think like them, you’re wrong. If you’re not like them, you’re dangerous. I get that. I’m considered a threat, too. Being post-human has taken so much from me but I want that to change as much as you. And I get it, defense mechanism. Mine was running away. [She smiles.] Well, I’d have to say I salute you for standing up to them. [She nods.] I guess I was really weak at some point. I fear they’ll know my weakness. And I guess that’s what draws me back. So this- this is just how I try to change things.
(Source: akalasimagination)
You’re gifted with one of the most fucking awesome abilities I’ve ever seen, and you just stand there and tell me that “oh, my reality is different from yours”. -rolls her eyes- You know what makes me want to puke? That I’m always the bad guy, wherever I go, like I just woke up and picked being the fucking way that I am, when I just keep getting hostility thrown my way. I never fucking said that some people are pure evil, did I? That’s your interpretation of what little pride I’ve managed to fucking hold on to, and it’s coming from someone who I thought should know better. Fucking chapeau.
Oh so you’re telling me you’ve lived the exact same life as I did? You’re saying you have the exact same principles as I do? You know what should make you puke? Everywhere you go, you’re the bad guy. Except you don’t have to be. That’s your choice. You could’ve woken up this morning and decided you’d do things differently. Look, Thea. [She breathes out slowly, trying to calm herself.] I’m really sorry. I could ask you why you think that way. Maybe then I’d understand?
(Source: akalasimagination)
No, you don’t. You’re just saying that to end this conversation, because you’re afraid of the fucking truth, just like so many others, and I’ve never got it because you’re one of the chosen ones as well. Don’t you get that? That you’re the way you are for a fucking reason?
Your truth isn’t necessarily mine. Your reality is different from mine. I believe there’s good in everyone. And I’m not going to stop believing that because you told me otherwise. My being post-human does not define me. It makes me different just a little bit but that’s so I can help make the world a better place. I’m the way I am for a reason. But the way I am isn’t a reason for me to think I’m a ‘chosen one’ like I’m above the rest of the human race.
(Source: akalasimagination)
Can’t rely on that though, can you? Sometimes they do, sometimes they don’t. Fucking idiots are everywhere and there’s no escape. And once a sufficient number of them is up there - she gestures upwards- that’s how it works, yeah.
I can make assumptions based on what you’ve told me, and I know that I’m a spoilt little fucking kid to you and I can still see it, so there’s gotta be an ounce of truth to that. You’re a post-human, Akala. Don’t tell me you’ve never looked at others and thought of how fucked-up and retarded they were.
Darwin, that was more than a fucking century ago. And I’m not talking about wars. Revolutions are different. They last. And when people look back on them, they remember them like they remember Darwin. They change the fucking world.
Yeah, I agree. Fucking idiots everywhere.
(Source: akalasimagination)
Yeah, and these people are imbeciles. A society has never advanced by hindering the stronger ones so the weaker ones feel less shitty.
Suits you though. Maybe you should try getting pissed at people more often.
You must have had a very sheltered life, Akala, A very, very sheltered life. And this is where you are wrong, because I’m certain to the moon and back that I have been more wrong before. Not because I’m usually wrong, but because there is no fucking way in the world to be wrong about this. People die in revolutions, that’s how the world fucking works.
Those people have other jobs. That’s not how society works.
And you can’t go on telling me that I’ve lived a sheltered life because we just met and you don’t even know an eighth of the story. And it’s a damned shame that the world still has revolutions. Darwin’s theory should’ve pushed more than just genes further. Because all the world wars were obvious mistakes. Any war would be an obvious mistake.
(Source: akalasimagination)
Yeah, totally, and that’s a very neat metaphor there, but honestly, you chose a fucking convenient metaphor there. I don’t think the world has boxes to help you. The world has people who walk around, see the three people behind the fence, and what they do is they take out an axe and hack off the taller people’s legs and then steamroll the fence. That’s what they take justice to mean, and it makes me sick.
-Raises her eyebrows questioningly before she gives a snorting laugh.- Did you just legit assume I walked around plotting to fucking kill people? Do I look like Jason Vorhees or some shit? Course you don’t think violence solves shit, nobody wakes up thinking “Imma be violent today” and rejoices about it. I legit hope for you to be able to keep up that attitude but I doubt it. Violence isn’t much of a choice.
The world just needs people to provide the boxes. That’s why I want to be a lawyer. And no- that’s the problem. People just go out and think. These fuckers have boxes, I want me some boxes. I’ll have their boxes. Let me just cut off their feet so I can use it and they can’t. Fucking bullshit. They can get their own fucking boxes or cut their own fucking legs. Oh my god. I haven’t cussed so much since forever.
Everything is a choice. If you say that you don’t have much of a choice than be violent. You are wrong. You have never been more wrong in your life.
(Source: akalasimagination)
Oh my is that so? Well now that’s really something, it’s not everyday I run into someone studying it, that’s wonderful really. How long have you been studying it if I may ask? {He’s clearly more interested in speaking at this notion, and he gives her a curious sort of look, Neal can’t help himself really.}
Well you are quite the bold woman I must admit. But surely that isn’t a bad thing, it’s refreshing to be quite honest. But yes it’s a silly insecurity really, and I do find it to be the slightest bit fun to be honest- that sort of insight on the minds of others, it’s all very intriguing.
You know what, I think I once heard-wait nope, nothing there I’m afraid. Hah, unless you tell me you have a love for interesting words or romanticism era literature, then I’m afraid I’m all out of contemplating life notions for you.
I’m about to end my second year on the course so I’m about half way to graduation, hopefully. If of course, I keep up my pace or improve it somehow.
Oh, I don’t think bold is the word to describe me. I haven’t ever been called that, at least not that I recall. I don’t think it’s silly. I don’t blame them if there’s something they hide. I can’t blame them if there’s something they’re ashamed of or something they want to keep under their sleeves in case they need a way out, y’know? But it is quite amazing how minds think so much alike yet so differently.
[She smiles.] Go on then, hit me with your best shot.
(Source: akalasimagination)
