project-revival-theory

[project-revival-theory]

[Otto nods slowly, as if he understands why this has happened. He does not.]

I see. Otto pop.

[project-revival-theory]

Covid, yeah! COVID-19. It's a virus that caused a worldwide pandemic in 2020 that just eased up. Because of it a lot of people were forced to stay indoors, which is called the lockdown. It lasted differently for each country, but usually it was about a year on-and-off. The virus still exists but vaccines exist now. It had a pretty massive effect of society, especially the kids, teens and young adults that suddenly got deprived of in-person socialisation during one of the most important periods of their life. Also a lot of people and organisations were not at all ready to switch to full online education so it was complete chaos for a while but by the end some people figured out that they actually preferred working from home and so that type of work became a lot more popular and accessible because of it. I know that it sounds serious but in reality the people who lived through it are mostly kidding about it now, and did so before as well. Coping via humour, yeah? The technology like the internet definitely helped people to deal with it better, since you could still call or video-call others, play games together, all that.

Wow that was. A rant

[Otto is quiet for a while, taking in and committing to memory this new information. The world shut down around him five years ago, is still in a recovery period, and somehow it hasn't been mentioned to him before now. Were his honorary grandchildren hoping to spare him from the knowledge, or are they so accustomed to the state of their world that it did not occur to them?]

You are alright? Iso-lation is... It can be difficult. I hope that you are, and were, patient with each other as you re-adjust.

I do not mind a rant. You have much to say, and I have little.

[project-revival-theory]

Maybe not that job in particular, but some job in the field, yes. Likely online, maybe not exactly what you hoped for, but there are programs and accomodations for disabled people in the workplace. Online education has gotten a lot more popular since Covid- OH GOD YOU DON'T KNOW ABOUT COVID DO YOU?

Covid?

[Perhaps the name of an individual or legal case - no, that would still be an individual, wouldn't it? - who influenced online education. How advanced must technology be to effectively teach or take an entire set of college courses online? Still the modern world finds new ways to amaze him. He will have so much catching up to do if he is to find a profession that works well for him.]

[...It is comforting, to have a reason to think of the future.]

[project-revival-theory]

It's not wasted time. You lived and you learned and you, hopefully, enjoyed it too. Plus, who knows, you may still finish that degree. There are online classes nowadays where you can complete your degree without even having to physically go there. Plus, there's no real age restriction on university, is there?

Will I be able to hold an... Hm. Hold this job, in the state that I am?

[Otto doesn't believe he's being pessimistic to assume that it would be incredibly difficult for an old man with an unexplainable thirty-year gap in his resumé and difficulty pronouncing multisyllabic words to become a language teacher. In his time it may have been impossible, but he will allow himself the belief that he has a chance. The world has changed so much since he left it.]

[project-revival-theory]

Not the only reason it reminded me of you but I can't say and you'll see eventually maybe so it's fineeeeee. What kind of a teacher would you be?

[Otto’s demeanor softens into something more distant. He’s not sad, exactly, but… Remembering. No, he’s a little sad. He’d very nearly completed schooling when he was removed from society at large - he had his English degree, and was meant to earn a second in Education the following spring. Seven years of wasted time.]

English.

[project-revival-theory]

Shake shack is a fast food place! And the video.. hmm okay how do I explain it.. it was an edit of a film- so clips and phrases from a movie put together to music. And it made me sad. The movie is.. uh. Well it's called "I saw the tv glow" and it's about.. I mean I guess the main message is that it's never too late to find and accept yourself. It came out fairly recently and was making rounds on the internet. Made a lot of people cry, as far as I heard.

That sounds nice. I’m glad such a film made you think of me.

[project-revival-theory]

I'm okay! Just missed you. I'm glad that the deal actually went well and Author didn't cause you any trouble. Or at least not a lot.

I just saw a video that reminded me of you. Did you finish that Baba is me game? How do you think you'd live if you never joined Showfall? And-

[A lot of questions follow. A lot. W sounds excited as hell :D]

[Otto takes a moment to process the deluge of questions, ordering his words in his head, then replies to each of them in succession.]

What was the vi-deo about? No, not yet. As a teacher. Yes. I’m not sure. What is a Shake Shack? And… Hmm.

[…Almost each of them. He loses track of what came when after about six.]

[project-revival-theory]

OTTTOOO! Oh wow it's been a while. Did everything go well? I mean I saw the interaction but I wanted to ask you anyways. Are you feeling okay? Adjusting well too, I hope?

Hello.

[Otto’s sitting on the floor beside his mattress this time, back against the wall. He smiles slightly when his bracelet lights up the moment he starts to speak, looks up, and lifts his hand for a trembling wave.]

I am well, yes. And you?

[project-revival-theory]

[Otto watches the god stand, and breathes in, cool air filtering into his lungs around the place he imagines his soul to be. He thinks he can still feel it inside him, but it may be mere imagination. Surely the soul is not naturally a condensed thing, as it was when he held it in his hands.]

No, Author. I have no more ques-tions for you.

[His body feels... stable, and oddly untethered. The old, burning tension in his limbs has faded to almost nothing. He shifts his weight, testing the mattress beneath him, and he is sore, but the ache is from weakness and disuse, constrained to muscle rather than penetrating deep into his bones. He wonders how this is possible, medically, and then corrects himself: it doesn't have to be possible, any more than the anons are. They do as they will with a gleeful disregard for the basic laws of reality and he's just going to have to accept that.]

Good bye. Be well.

[The reality suddenly tore a giant hole in itself, located pretty much where the door once stood. Through the portal what looks to be a giant wall- or perhaps a dome made up entirely of stained glass could be seen. Murmurs, barely audible or distinguishable words and phrases could be heard coming through the portal, a similiar ambiance to what one could hear while falling asleep as the brain was processing the memories from the day.]

[Soon enough, a figure stepped through the boundary. A giant, firey red fox-like humanoid with numerous eyes and tails. Their gaze focused on Otto and they were just about to speak when-]

[The being straightened out and hit their head on the low ceiling of the basement. They squawked. A rogue floating hand proceeded to rub the spot of the injury.]

[Otto blinks and the fox was considerably smaller, about the size of a normal human being. The hands were already sewing the portal behind them shut and the creature focused their gazes back on him.]

Hello. It is a pleasure to meet you in person.

-🦊

[Otto watches. Tries, and fails, to understand. Is this… An anon? Their presence- presences?- feel so different. This one is heavier, more solid than his other visitors. More… Everything.]

[But they bump their head in the ceiling, and Otto murmurs in sympathy as they yelp an inhuman noise of complaint, and he relaxes. He may be less accustomed to casual otherworldly visits than he thought. Best to assume, from now on, that there will always be something entirely new to see, even in this room.]

Hello. What should I call you?

[project-revival-theory]

[And then he looks up, and the spell is broken. Warmth floods his limbs as Otto’s soul integrates itself back where it belongs, and they (he? Soul and soul-shard are one, so he’s back to being him now, isn’t he? When was that ever in question?) breathe. It doesn’t tug and fight him, the expansion of his lungs, and he resettles himself on the mattress. And that doesn’t quite hurt, either, beyond a ghost of sensation informing him that it would have before.]

I’m okay, [Otto says, and means it as truthfully as he can for what he’s just seen and done. Nothing feels entirely as real as it should. Somehow, he knows with a self-contradictory, vague sort of certainty that the sense of distance will pass with time.] It doesn’t hurt. Thank you. Author…

[He ought to say something else. He doesn’t know what else he’d say.]

Thank you.

[The reality suddenly tore a giant hole in itself, located pretty much where the door once stood. Through the portal what looks to be a giant wall- or perhaps a dome made up entirely of stained glass could be seen. Murmurs, barely audible or distinguishable words and phrases could be heard coming through the portal, a similiar ambiance to what one could hear while falling asleep as the brain was processing the memories from the day.]

[Soon enough, a figure stepped through the boundary. A giant, firey red fox-like humanoid with numerous eyes and tails. Their gaze focused on Otto and they were just about to speak when-]

[The being straightened out and hit their head on the low ceiling of the basement. They squawked. A rogue floating hand proceeded to rub the spot of the injury.]

[Otto blinks and the fox was considerably smaller, about the size of a normal human being. The hands were already sewing the portal behind them shut and the creature focused their gazes back on him.]

Hello. It is a pleasure to meet you in person.

-🦊

[Otto watches. Tries, and fails, to understand. Is this… An anon? Their presence- presences?- feel so different. This one is heavier, more solid than his other visitors. More… Everything.]

[But they bump their head in the ceiling, and Otto murmurs in sympathy as they yelp an inhuman noise of complaint, and he relaxes. He may be less accustomed to casual otherworldly visits than he thought. Best to assume, from now on, that there will always be something entirely new to see, even in this room.]

Hello. What should I call you?

[project-revival-theory]

[Otto holds his soul in his hands, and the thought of it now is just as incomprehensible as when it was first drawn from his body. Something inside him is preventing him from fully understanding the implications, and it irritates him, knowing that he’ll never know, but… No, he’s better than that. He will have to accept what he cannot understand. Perhaps the baring of a tangible soul is simply incompatible with the processing power of a human mind.]

[He allows himself a mental shudder at the thought of having a god’s hair inside his body for the rest of his life, when it becomes clear what they’re going to do, but he does not pull away from the agreement he made. He’s not even entirely certain why it bothers him. There’s no point in… Oh. Hello.]

[It’s not a hair, after all. Not entirely. It’s a shard of their soul, weaving into his own, colors he cannot perceive flashing before his eyes and a song he will never hear ringing in his ears as he pulls it back towards his body, and it shrinks away as if it’s changed its mind and isn’t sure it wants to be part of him anymore. It looks like life-and-death-and-searching, sounds like begin-and-end-and-start-again, bleeds through the skin of his hands and chest to his heart and asks him why-am-I-why-are-you-here, if not to tell the world a story?]

[And it’s empty. For all its terrible beauty, all its color and life and light, the Author’s soul is so terribly, achingly empty. There are no glowing memories of the very smallest and most important things, there is no love for the sake of its own. Only age, curiosity that should have been satisfied by knowing the answers it seeks but somehow never will be, and the god’s assigned purpose - by their-self or something else that came before - stretched into infinites in every direction.]

[It would hurt, he thinks, to live that way if they’d ever known anything else.]

[The reality suddenly tore a giant hole in itself, located pretty much where the door once stood. Through the portal what looks to be a giant wall- or perhaps a dome made up entirely of stained glass could be seen. Murmurs, barely audible or distinguishable words and phrases could be heard coming through the portal, a similiar ambiance to what one could hear while falling asleep as the brain was processing the memories from the day.]

[Soon enough, a figure stepped through the boundary. A giant, firey red fox-like humanoid with numerous eyes and tails. Their gaze focused on Otto and they were just about to speak when-]

[The being straightened out and hit their head on the low ceiling of the basement. They squawked. A rogue floating hand proceeded to rub the spot of the injury.]

[Otto blinks and the fox was considerably smaller, about the size of a normal human being. The hands were already sewing the portal behind them shut and the creature focused their gazes back on him.]

Hello. It is a pleasure to meet you in person.

-🦊

[Otto watches. Tries, and fails, to understand. Is this… An anon? Their presence- presences?- feel so different. This one is heavier, more solid than his other visitors. More… Everything.]

[But they bump their head in the ceiling, and Otto murmurs in sympathy as they yelp an inhuman noise of complaint, and he relaxes. He may be less accustomed to casual otherworldly visits than he thought. Best to assume, from now on, that there will always be something entirely new to see, even in this room.]

Hello. What should I call you?

[project-revival-theory]

So they are.

[Before their eyes, the deep orange tint to Otto's soul retracts in on itself, folding again and again until it collapses into a lighter shade. As confusion and nerves brighten to curiosity, its very form changes again- it is flatter now, neater, its chaotic twists and improbable angles settling into a strong, layered Solomon's Knot.]

[He knows who he is, knows exactly how he will act in any given situation and why, and that may be part of the reason he reacted this way to something entirely new. The disorientation of learning that he can be entirely separated from himself and remain exactly the same threw him into disarray, his answer to the question of whether he is his mind or body or soul or a combination of all three slipping away from him.]

[His certainty in the stable nature of his identity is precisely why it was so badly shaken, and again the reason he was able to rebuild it so quickly. First, he was afraid; now, he is interested in this god's sense of humor, and wonders idly why any higher being would take a particular interest in the old man living in a basement. And why molding his soul is easier for the Author when they're not holding it. Seems more than a little counterintuitive.]

Do you know how long your work will take? It is... Not easy, to hold this.

[The reality suddenly tore a giant hole in itself, located pretty much where the door once stood. Through the portal what looks to be a giant wall- or perhaps a dome made up entirely of stained glass could be seen. Murmurs, barely audible or distinguishable words and phrases could be heard coming through the portal, a similiar ambiance to what one could hear while falling asleep as the brain was processing the memories from the day.]

[Soon enough, a figure stepped through the boundary. A giant, firey red fox-like humanoid with numerous eyes and tails. Their gaze focused on Otto and they were just about to speak when-]

[The being straightened out and hit their head on the low ceiling of the basement. They squawked. A rogue floating hand proceeded to rub the spot of the injury.]

[Otto blinks and the fox was considerably smaller, about the size of a normal human being. The hands were already sewing the portal behind them shut and the creature focused their gazes back on him.]

Hello. It is a pleasure to meet you in person.

-🦊

[Otto watches. Tries, and fails, to understand. Is this… An anon? Their presence- presences?- feel so different. This one is heavier, more solid than his other visitors. More… Everything.]

[But they bump their head in the ceiling, and Otto murmurs in sympathy as they yelp an inhuman noise of complaint, and he relaxes. He may be less accustomed to casual otherworldly visits than he thought. Best to assume, from now on, that there will always be something entirely new to see, even in this room.]

Hello. What should I call you?

[project-revival-theory]

Grandma Otto, thoughts on otters? Would you like to be an otter? I bet that would be fun. Ottor :D

[Otto almost responds thoughtlessly, but checks himself, looking down at the soul in his hands. There is no basis on which he can assume the anon won't go through with such an impulse if he responds positively.]

Please do not turn me into an otter. It would be fun, yes, but don't.

[project-revival-theory]

You could not have told me this?

[There's something disapproving, almost scolding in the way his eyebrows raise without a smile below them. He corrects himself and relaxes as much as he can without dropping his arms- one does not scold a deity such as the Author for failing to explain a process they may consider perfectly commonplace. For all they know, he is the ignorant fool who does not understand what to do when holding his own soul in his hands.]

[The reality suddenly tore a giant hole in itself, located pretty much where the door once stood. Through the portal what looks to be a giant wall- or perhaps a dome made up entirely of stained glass could be seen. Murmurs, barely audible or distinguishable words and phrases could be heard coming through the portal, a similiar ambiance to what one could hear while falling asleep as the brain was processing the memories from the day.]

[Soon enough, a figure stepped through the boundary. A giant, firey red fox-like humanoid with numerous eyes and tails. Their gaze focused on Otto and they were just about to speak when-]

[The being straightened out and hit their head on the low ceiling of the basement. They squawked. A rogue floating hand proceeded to rub the spot of the injury.]

[Otto blinks and the fox was considerably smaller, about the size of a normal human being. The hands were already sewing the portal behind them shut and the creature focused their gazes back on him.]

Hello. It is a pleasure to meet you in person.

-🦊

[Otto watches. Tries, and fails, to understand. Is this… An anon? Their presence- presences?- feel so different. This one is heavier, more solid than his other visitors. More… Everything.]

[But they bump their head in the ceiling, and Otto murmurs in sympathy as they yelp an inhuman noise of complaint, and he relaxes. He may be less accustomed to casual otherworldly visits than he thought. Best to assume, from now on, that there will always be something entirely new to see, even in this room.]

Hello. What should I call you?

[project-revival-theory]

[Otto's soul is heavy in the hands of his body, and he holds tightly to the Author's words so that he will not forget them. The flashing colors slow, and he identifies orange, grey, yellow, before they dissolve back into the unnamable.]

[It is difficult to see, or to hear, anything outside of the formless light in his hands. Formless... Until it is not, pinching and pulling itself into the shape of a loose, elaborate knot. Alarmed, he tears his gaze away from the soul, turning to the Author for guidance.]

It is chan-ging.

[The reality suddenly tore a giant hole in itself, located pretty much where the door once stood. Through the portal what looks to be a giant wall- or perhaps a dome made up entirely of stained glass could be seen. Murmurs, barely audible or distinguishable words and phrases could be heard coming through the portal, a similiar ambiance to what one could hear while falling asleep as the brain was processing the memories from the day.]

[Soon enough, a figure stepped through the boundary. A giant, firey red fox-like humanoid with numerous eyes and tails. Their gaze focused on Otto and they were just about to speak when-]

[The being straightened out and hit their head on the low ceiling of the basement. They squawked. A rogue floating hand proceeded to rub the spot of the injury.]

[Otto blinks and the fox was considerably smaller, about the size of a normal human being. The hands were already sewing the portal behind them shut and the creature focused their gazes back on him.]

Hello. It is a pleasure to meet you in person.

-🦊

[Otto watches. Tries, and fails, to understand. Is this… An anon? Their presence- presences?- feel so different. This one is heavier, more solid than his other visitors. More… Everything.]

[But they bump their head in the ceiling, and Otto murmurs in sympathy as they yelp an inhuman noise of complaint, and he relaxes. He may be less accustomed to casual otherworldly visits than he thought. Best to assume, from now on, that there will always be something entirely new to see, even in this room.]

Hello. What should I call you?

[project-revival-theory]

[Otto stares into himself, deeper than he has ever seen or will ever see again. He watches himself shift and glow, small and curled in the Author's hands, light dimming as his vision does the same. The colours flash. He recognizes none of them as shades he has seen before, and knows intimately the purpose of every one.]

[A tight pain pulls at his chest, and he finds the source of his worsening vision; in his awe, he's forgotten to breathe. He does so now.]

[He wonders, as he wonders, whether what he sees is truly a human soul. It is just as possible, though he has no way of knowing whether it's just as probable, that this god has manifested a physical approximation of what his metaphorical soul might be because it is easier for them to work with something they can touch and mold in their hands.]

[Otto blinks spots from his vision, and allows for the alternate possibility that he's only thinking this way because the idea that he has a physical soul is beyond the realm of anything he can process and accept as fact.]

[He is being spoken to. He nods. He is not sure.]

[The reality suddenly tore a giant hole in itself, located pretty much where the door once stood. Through the portal what looks to be a giant wall- or perhaps a dome made up entirely of stained glass could be seen. Murmurs, barely audible or distinguishable words and phrases could be heard coming through the portal, a similiar ambiance to what one could hear while falling asleep as the brain was processing the memories from the day.]

[Soon enough, a figure stepped through the boundary. A giant, firey red fox-like humanoid with numerous eyes and tails. Their gaze focused on Otto and they were just about to speak when-]

[The being straightened out and hit their head on the low ceiling of the basement. They squawked. A rogue floating hand proceeded to rub the spot of the injury.]

[Otto blinks and the fox was considerably smaller, about the size of a normal human being. The hands were already sewing the portal behind them shut and the creature focused their gazes back on him.]

Hello. It is a pleasure to meet you in person.

-🦊

[Otto watches. Tries, and fails, to understand. Is this… An anon? Their presence- presences?- feel so different. This one is heavier, more solid than his other visitors. More… Everything.]

[But they bump their head in the ceiling, and Otto murmurs in sympathy as they yelp an inhuman noise of complaint, and he relaxes. He may be less accustomed to casual otherworldly visits than he thought. Best to assume, from now on, that there will always be something entirely new to see, even in this room.]

Hello. What should I call you?

[project-revival-theory]

[Otto turns their words over in his mind, considering each clause. So much thought went into this. Is it truly necessary to bind a god’s promise with layers of failsafes and tightly sealed loopholes, just to ensure their gift will not turn to curse? He knows little about any of this, considering his family’s unusually relaxed stance on religion, but he’s sure he remembers trust being part of the deal.]

[Perhaps this god lives by a different set of rules.]

I hear and un-der stand. I will… Ac-cept these terms.

[The reality suddenly tore a giant hole in itself, located pretty much where the door once stood. Through the portal what looks to be a giant wall- or perhaps a dome made up entirely of stained glass could be seen. Murmurs, barely audible or distinguishable words and phrases could be heard coming through the portal, a similiar ambiance to what one could hear while falling asleep as the brain was processing the memories from the day.]

[Soon enough, a figure stepped through the boundary. A giant, firey red fox-like humanoid with numerous eyes and tails. Their gaze focused on Otto and they were just about to speak when-]

[The being straightened out and hit their head on the low ceiling of the basement. They squawked. A rogue floating hand proceeded to rub the spot of the injury.]

[Otto blinks and the fox was considerably smaller, about the size of a normal human being. The hands were already sewing the portal behind them shut and the creature focused their gazes back on him.]

Hello. It is a pleasure to meet you in person.

-🦊

[Otto watches. Tries, and fails, to understand. Is this… An anon? Their presence- presences?- feel so different. This one is heavier, more solid than his other visitors. More… Everything.]

[But they bump their head in the ceiling, and Otto murmurs in sympathy as they yelp an inhuman noise of complaint, and he relaxes. He may be less accustomed to casual otherworldly visits than he thought. Best to assume, from now on, that there will always be something entirely new to see, even in this room.]

Hello. What should I call you?