rakuen | in which the midwife hates everything, vol. 1

Entry tags:

in which the midwife hates everything, vol. 1

Characters: Oichi (bedtime) and The Midwife (themidwife)
Format: Action
This log is: closed
Location: Fortitude, Pale
Summary: After player declaration, the Midwife decides in a fit of pique to storm back to his dorms before classes. There he finds a friend - and perhaps something more. And by that I mean "a weapon."
Warnings: Absurd levels of profanity. Probably nothing else.

[ Everything is fucked.

Nothing could have prepared him for this. Not a single event in the miserable, loathsome series of events he has jokingly dubbed a "life" could have indicated what was to come. Even the great and noble office of MIDWIFE pales before what he's been chosen for.

At least, that's a possibility. Like fuck if he knows what a "Player" does - only that it means he doesn't get to be a "Weapon," which pisses him off beyond words. Fine - fine. He will become the ultimate weapon, then. He will hone himself into the finest steel. He will tear apart those who would stand in his way. He will rip the aspirations and dreams of the pathetic aliens that would dare to dream for greater things. Just as soon as he figures out what he's supposed to do.

He stomps back into the shitty excuse for a respiteblock (okay, even he can't lie about that - it's actually pretty damn good, better than anything he's had for sweeps but it's not home goddammit), searching the halls for signs of life. The moment he sees something moving, he moves in for the kill. ]

You. I have no idea who the fuck you even are, but guess what? I don't fucking care! Tell me, human, what the fuck is a "Player" and what do they do?

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[ She doesn't really pay attention to what she should be doing, or what she is doing, or anything. She just drifts along, humming her own tune.

Oichi looks him up and down and she smiles very wide, giggling from behind her hands. She doesn't seem to hear what he says, and looks around the room as though she were about to tell a secret. ]

Me...? Ichi...? You're weird, funny, like that other one... as gray as stone but with those colorful horns. Gamzee, yes... that was his name. Will you kill Ichi too? Will you try, Ichi means.

[ Under any other circumstances, the Midwife would spare a moment's thought. Any other day, he would remember that name, "Gamzee."

BUT TODAY IS NOT ANY OTHER DAY. THE MIDWIFE HAS A JOB TO DO, GODDAMMIT, AND HE IS GOING TO GET IT DONE. THAT IS WHAT MIDWIFES DO. GET THINGS DONE. ]

Fuck you. I am neither weird nor funny. The only thing you pointed out that was even remotely close to valid was that I'm grey and have horns. Surprise! All fucking trolls are like that, even the most miserable fuckups of all, e.g. me. And furthermore-

[ wait what ]

What the fuck is your problem? No, I'm not going to kill you! As your magnanimous example of a lesser specimen of a superior species, it would be fucking irresponsible of me to let you come to harm, despite any personal gratification that might be felt at the consummate humiliation of every last pink bananabeast on this goddamn planet.

[ Oichi looks at him blankly, but her smile does not fade. She rolls on her feet for a moment, just swaying from side to side. ]

Fuck you, motherfucker...

[ she says it like she has no idea of what she's saying, and so it comes out like a little kid is repeating a word they heard their parent say ]

You are funny, and you are weird, and Ichi thinks... you talk a lot. But none of the noises you make are very pretty... they are like the crows outside. Pointless and ugly. But... a bird who looks like a crow... is not always a crow. It may be a bird wearing its colors, and hiding away from the evil that lurks this vast country... all of that that is to say, Ichi does not believe you are something so bad... you're nice.

So... can you sing Ichi a beautiful song? Pretty please?

[ She steps closer, reaching out to touch his head and his little horns. ]

[ See this icon? That's an appropriate representation of Karkat's face right there, except with a goatee and red irises. ]

Uh.

[ That's a good sign, right? He's pretty sure he's not about to get culled. Which means he can keep talking, right? Right. When he does speak again, all of the grating, shrieky quality from before is gone - in its place, there's a fair bit of shakiness. HELLO SURVIVAL INSTINCT WHOOPS. ]

Fuck you, I don't sing. I am an exceptionally bad singer. If you really insist, [ and he feels the need to specify, here, just in case this madwoman changes her mind about the leaving him alive bit ], I can sing you something shitty. Like a lullaby or something. I haven't really had time to practice anything else, so, uh.

If you aren't going to kill me, can you tell me what I'm supposed to do as a player?

Yes, yes... sing a pretty song for Ichi. Ichi wants to hear your voice, ok...?

[ She's gently reaching up and touching his head now, feeling his hair and the nub of his horns. She is laughing. ]

So little, so cute... like a cow. Cows are good, you know... but you are not a cow, you're a person. And cows cannot sing...

[ SHE IS TOUCHING HIS FACE

SHE IS TOUCHING

HIS

HORNS

Well, if he wasn't singing now, he sure as fuck is now. His baritone is awkward, and a little unwieldy - it's not like he's got anything to boast about. But when it comes down to it, it's calming, if a little scratchy from misuse. The song isn't particularly noteworthy: some little nursery rhyme of his own creation about highbloods and lowbloods and equality, up until that part that the caste system (by necessity) tears them apart and executes the unworthy Rusty for even talking to the indigo. And then everyone lives happily ever after.

When he finishes, he looks down (if only a tiny bit) into her eyes and meekly asks: ]

Requesting permission to back away.

[ Oichi laughs, delighted, and pats him a few more times before drawing her hand away. ]

Ahh, how lovely. Such a lovely, lovely song... Ichi does not understand it, but it was nice. You're nice. Ichi remembers... you asked a question, right? Is that right...?

Yes. That's still a thing that happened. It didn't- unhappen, or anything.

[ Awkwardly, after contemplating whether it's worth risking his life- ]

I got named as a "Player." What the fuck does that mean?

Ichi doesn't really know... but Ichi was one last week. You fight people with weapons you take from someone's heart, the very core of their being... and you try to kill the other person with it.

[ She touches her chest and looks at him very slowly. ]

You can get pretty coins... if you do the right things. They're so shiny... what is your name? Ichi doesn't know it...

[ JUST FUCKING GREAT. So this is some gladatorial bullshit, then? Gladatorial bullshit that involves fashioning people's hearts into weapons. God, this place is uncivilized.

He responds, a bit far off (as he's currently busy trying to figure out how he should be reacting to being thrown into an alien gladiator arena): ]

I'm- I'm-

[ It's weird - it's the first time he's tried to say his name, and now that he actually thinks about it nothing comes to mind. He stutters out the word a few times, voice growing more and more panicked, until finally he puts his hands over his face and just goes quiet for a moment.

He can't even remember his name anymore.

After a couple of quick, nearly-hyperventilating breaths, he speaks up again. ]

Good news! Since I'm a pathetic fuck that doesn't deserve a name, you can just call me the Midwife. It might as well be my fucking name, anyway. God.

[ And then he's just back to trying to breathe regularly. And failing. ]

[ Oichi is unsure why he's freaking out, but touches his shoulder in a way she vaguely remembers someone doing for her some time ago. She mimics their words then, for Midwife: ]

It will do no good to cry now. Shhh, shhh. Ichi will give you a hug, ok...? Ichi will hold you close until your tears are no more.

[ He doesn't even budge as she hugs him - just hyperventilates a little harder than before. What is physical contact what is social interaction what is breathing.

But eventually, his shoulders slump forward, and he relaxes a tiny, tiny bit. When he speaks again, his voice is at least slightly more level. ]

Ichi. How the fuck do you get the weapons out of hearts? Is human biology just fucking weird like that?

Ichi doesn't understand it, so... she just knows that they come out, like magic.

[ Shh Karkat only hugs now. She rubs his back soothingly. ]

Magic isn't real, asshole.

[ They just... come out. There's no fashioning or threshmurder required to acquire one. Which means that if he can find a weapon, he has a real chance of survival. After all, he highly doubts most of the humans have had to live on a planet where everything naturally wants them dead.

He reaches forward, hoverhanding for a moment before placing both hands on Oichi's shoulders and backing away. Somewhat slowly and clearly: ]

Ichi. I need help finding a weapon. Can you help me?

Ichi will be your weapon... if you'll take her.

[ She removes her hands and hides her mouth, smiling. ]

You know what? Since you're actually slightly more tolerable than the rest of the humans, that'll be just peachy fucking keen. Sure, I'll take you.

[ And then he crosses his arms. ]

So, what the fuck do we do now?

Oh, wonderful... Ichi is so happy she might cry. We're friends now, ok? The best of friends. Let's make merry and have a picnic sometime, ok...?

[ This is what she thinks the two of them should do, but pauses thoughtfully for a brief moment. ]

Do you want to find someone to fight? You can't win if you don't... so fight, fight, fight on...

Why the fuck not? Let's have a relaxing little wiggler picnic sometime. I'll bring extra grubsauce!

[ He blinks at that. Now? Maybe a little, but- ]

When I got here, I was told my job was to teach a class. Am I supposed to fight instead, or will that get me on the wrong end of a culling fork?

[ She has no idea what the hell grubsauce is but she smiles and nods along anyways. She looks at the new mark on her hand. ]

You do both... Ichi did, so... being a player is temporary, like snowfall in spring...

[ Player status is temporary, much like the weather. The Midwife files that information away in the back of his brain, preparing himself for later. After a few moments, the scowl is back on his face, and he raises a finger to tell Oichi:

Alright, Ichi. I'm off to go schoolfeed some dumbfucks. Since it's pretty goddamn likely that you're a teacher too, go forth - pour information into their blooming little thinkpans, and hope to god some actually sticks in there.

I will meet with you later for strategizing. At lunch.

[ AND WITH THAT HE TURNS AROUND AND STARTS STOMPING OFF. ]

[ Oichi watches him go, and then turns around to play on the bed. ]

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in which the midwife hates everything, vol. 1

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