Post by cobaltandturquoise on Jun 3, 2013 22:47:17 GMT -5
Copied over from my art/writing blog here. It'll probably be quite long by the time it's finished. I'm going to try to incorporate popular headcanons with my own. Any sort of feedback is appreciated!
He always waits a long time after he wakes up to open his eyes. He tugs at the tabs on his shorts, rolls over, stretches, everything short of rising before he lets himself see. It’s a habit, and he doesn’t remember how it started, but what does it matter.
The boy sits up once his eyes are open, and stands almost immediately. He’s in a sort of tunnel formed by arching trees. The ground is stone, almost unnaturally smooth. 0001 brushes his shirt off and starts walking. He hasn’t a clue which way he’s going or which way he’s come from, but when has he? How could he? All the boy has ever known is wandering, surroundings changing but himself a painful constant.
When have I ever changed, he thinks as he runs his hand along a tree trunk. He does not remember being small, he does not remember having different clothing, he does not remember feeling whole. Instead he’s wandered, something buried deep in his subconscious forcing him to keep walking. I have to find them. That’s the always-thought. Who is them? What is there, other than him and the land and the trees? I don’t know. Maybe I won’t ever know.
Something feels off, today, however. Well, even a small thing different would feel off to him. But there’s just something odd about the way the breeze comes through the leaves today. 0001 curls his shorts-tabs around his fingers, a nervous habit. Seems like everything’s habit. But maybe, soon, it won’t be. Not if the feeling in his gut is any indication.
Pass a scum-topped pond. Go through a field of purple plants that sway as though they’re underwater. Climb down an uneven staircase that’s half quartz, half moss. Nothing is remarkable to him and the boy’s pale green eyes have been glazed over for hours. He’s just following some instinct, some whim, on and on, only stopping to eat a bit of fruit and even then not really noticing. He may as well be asleep, he’s paying so little attention to the outside world.
On he goes.
He snaps out of his traveling-mode earlier than usual, when his nose bumps into a smooth white structure. He flinches and tries to cry out but he hasn’t spoken in days and his voice doesn’t quite work. Tentatively, he raises his hand, bracelet sliding down his arm, to press his fingers against the surface of the thing. It’s a large wall, pure white and curved away from 0001, artificial but buried partway into the ground. It is smooth to the touch and strong despite being very thin. He makes his way around to the other side, and there’s a sort of bench protruding from the wall. Uneasily, he sits down on it, and it holds up his full weight without so much as a creak. He lays down on it - the bench is just long enough to fit him - and within moments 0001 is asleep.
—-
“Hey, you awake?”
The voice that wakes 0001 is loud and absolutely unexpected. As soon as he’s stopped squirming around in confusion - eyes still closed, of course - he tumbles off the bench in more confusion because he just heard a voice. Now he’s scrambling to get his to work, and it’s never had to before and will they think it sounds bad and he’s coughing furiously to get his throat clear and he isn’t even off the damn ground! Opening his eyes and pushing himself off of the ground, 0001’s gaze locks with the speaker’s, who is sitting calmly on the bench as if nothing had just happened.
“G-guess I wasn’t,” 0001 says hoarsely. He turns and sits down next to the speaker, a smiling, green-haired girl. His eyes dart away, then back, and oh god he hasn’t a clue where to look.
“So who’re you?” She’s speaking and her gaze is still fixed on the boy, and he fumbles with the tabs on his shorts and meets it.
“Number 1. U-um, that is, 0001.” That was the only thing he was sure of.
“I asked who you were, not your number.”
“There’s – Is there a difference?”
The girl narrows her eyes. “This is your first time talking to somebody else, isn’t it?” She’s leaning in really close like she doesn’t even notice what she’s doing, and 0001’s gripping the edge of the bench and leaning away, eyes wide. Oh. Yes. The question. He nods.
“Thought so. That explains why you’re still a number. Guess I’ll just call you 1 for now, none of that zero-zero-zero crap. C’mon, we’ve got others to meet.” She’s getting up and walking away already and-
“But I don’t even know who you are!”
She looks back and gives a smug little smile. “Number’s 2, call me Pigtails if ya feel like it. I’ll explain on the way.”
Chapter I.
Is there a difference?
Is there a difference?
He always waits a long time after he wakes up to open his eyes. He tugs at the tabs on his shorts, rolls over, stretches, everything short of rising before he lets himself see. It’s a habit, and he doesn’t remember how it started, but what does it matter.
The boy sits up once his eyes are open, and stands almost immediately. He’s in a sort of tunnel formed by arching trees. The ground is stone, almost unnaturally smooth. 0001 brushes his shirt off and starts walking. He hasn’t a clue which way he’s going or which way he’s come from, but when has he? How could he? All the boy has ever known is wandering, surroundings changing but himself a painful constant.
When have I ever changed, he thinks as he runs his hand along a tree trunk. He does not remember being small, he does not remember having different clothing, he does not remember feeling whole. Instead he’s wandered, something buried deep in his subconscious forcing him to keep walking. I have to find them. That’s the always-thought. Who is them? What is there, other than him and the land and the trees? I don’t know. Maybe I won’t ever know.
Something feels off, today, however. Well, even a small thing different would feel off to him. But there’s just something odd about the way the breeze comes through the leaves today. 0001 curls his shorts-tabs around his fingers, a nervous habit. Seems like everything’s habit. But maybe, soon, it won’t be. Not if the feeling in his gut is any indication.
Pass a scum-topped pond. Go through a field of purple plants that sway as though they’re underwater. Climb down an uneven staircase that’s half quartz, half moss. Nothing is remarkable to him and the boy’s pale green eyes have been glazed over for hours. He’s just following some instinct, some whim, on and on, only stopping to eat a bit of fruit and even then not really noticing. He may as well be asleep, he’s paying so little attention to the outside world.
On he goes.
He snaps out of his traveling-mode earlier than usual, when his nose bumps into a smooth white structure. He flinches and tries to cry out but he hasn’t spoken in days and his voice doesn’t quite work. Tentatively, he raises his hand, bracelet sliding down his arm, to press his fingers against the surface of the thing. It’s a large wall, pure white and curved away from 0001, artificial but buried partway into the ground. It is smooth to the touch and strong despite being very thin. He makes his way around to the other side, and there’s a sort of bench protruding from the wall. Uneasily, he sits down on it, and it holds up his full weight without so much as a creak. He lays down on it - the bench is just long enough to fit him - and within moments 0001 is asleep.
—-
“Hey, you awake?”
The voice that wakes 0001 is loud and absolutely unexpected. As soon as he’s stopped squirming around in confusion - eyes still closed, of course - he tumbles off the bench in more confusion because he just heard a voice. Now he’s scrambling to get his to work, and it’s never had to before and will they think it sounds bad and he’s coughing furiously to get his throat clear and he isn’t even off the damn ground! Opening his eyes and pushing himself off of the ground, 0001’s gaze locks with the speaker’s, who is sitting calmly on the bench as if nothing had just happened.
“G-guess I wasn’t,” 0001 says hoarsely. He turns and sits down next to the speaker, a smiling, green-haired girl. His eyes dart away, then back, and oh god he hasn’t a clue where to look.
“So who’re you?” She’s speaking and her gaze is still fixed on the boy, and he fumbles with the tabs on his shorts and meets it.
“Number 1. U-um, that is, 0001.” That was the only thing he was sure of.
“I asked who you were, not your number.”
“There’s – Is there a difference?”
The girl narrows her eyes. “This is your first time talking to somebody else, isn’t it?” She’s leaning in really close like she doesn’t even notice what she’s doing, and 0001’s gripping the edge of the bench and leaning away, eyes wide. Oh. Yes. The question. He nods.
“Thought so. That explains why you’re still a number. Guess I’ll just call you 1 for now, none of that zero-zero-zero crap. C’mon, we’ve got others to meet.” She’s getting up and walking away already and-
“But I don’t even know who you are!”
She looks back and gives a smug little smile. “Number’s 2, call me Pigtails if ya feel like it. I’ll explain on the way.”