her Heart aflame: corporate greed - 1039 words

Legacy system repost, Nov 3rd, 2021, already rolled.
TW; musing about organs and body parts. Eventide Ring Portal, Prompt #2 - Firefall

 

Arcus stared at the sky above, sensors under the screen of her face flaring up, fixated onto the burning junk flying by. Her face was emotionless, as it often was. She knew how to keep it still - and would keep it blank even when she didn't need to, or didn't intend to. By now, it was a reflex. However, accompanying her emotionless visage was an untrained body. She was restless, shivers traveling in waves through her whole being - the tip of her tail whisking back and forth like the tail of an annoyed cat - her muscles twitching here and there in turns. It was this place. The whole planet. Its stillness, chaos entombed inside that disgustingly calm shell - a shell that didn't even hide a glimpse of it. It was like an open window to a catastrophe, happening over and over. A curse loop, maybe, to find something familiar. She hated it. She despised it all, how it looked, how it felt, how it smelled - but only because of how it made her feel. Not necessarily the whole place. Heck, she didn't hate the place. She didn't care that it was dangerous - that's what her whole life was about.

No, she loved its beauty. Its hauntingly, dangerously dark beauty.

Not that she'd ever admit such a thing.

 

A sudden sound startled the wyfex. Something landed softly behind her. She turned her upper body and saw her companion - Morakniv. Arcus would've smiled if she would've had the ability to do so.

"There you are", she noted, her voice soft and low. "I've been looking for you. Can't leave you here, you know." The kukuri replied with a bright, happy coo. It ruffled its wings and shook its body before trotting over to its strange partner. It circled Arcus once, then twice, and plopped down onto the ground, right next to her, scooching right against her side. She felt its fur on her skin, feathers brushing at her as it made itself comfortable. She let out a soft snort. What a moron. She crossed her arms on her chest and leaned back onto the kukuri. Her eyes wandered through the surrounding scenery, back to the sky.

The flaming shower or garbage was beautiful in its grief. Arcus watched a single piece at a time, and moved to another only when it passed the skyline out of her sight, or burned up to ash and dust. They felt like they were close, like she could just stand up and reach them. However, she knew that she couldn't, despite how it felt. She'd probably burn in the forces that protected the city if she tried. An unusually large cluster of smaller, burning pieces passed the city from above. She could feel the bright lights damaging her sensors, but what did she care - she could replace those whenever she'd get home. Her eyes wandered off. Wherever home was.

Then that feeling came back.

 

It rushed in like a tidal wave, drowning her being into it. The crimson kukuri felt the shift on her body. It felt her tensing up as it lifted its head from the stone-like material under them. It cooed softly, tilting its head curiously - and worried. It bumped her arm with its muzzle - but got no reply. It nudged her again. Absent-mindedly, Arcus placed her palm on its forehead, gently digging her fingers into its fur, and started petting it slowly. Admittedly, it did calm her down - but only marginally. She listened to her body - or what was left of it. She pulled her knees against her chest. Were these hers? Or were they branded by one of the thousands of companies that manufactured parts for her kind, just waiting for them to break down and replace their old parts, or to make the stupid decision to replace their original, biological body parts with metal and tech? She knew she had replaced herself - a lot. She didn't know where to draw the line. All the same, she had thought. As long as the core chipsets were intact, it was all the same. She never thought about it. Or at least that's what she liked to think she did. In anything else than looks in most cases, there was no difference - replaced parts and organs retained the sense of touch and function all the same. Her kind was built that way. She was built to be replaced. It wouldn't matter if all she had left of her original form was her computer-like brain.

But it did matter. It wasn't the same. Somewhere, in the smallest nook, in the tightest fold, there was a brand name. Like a mark made with burning hot iron, it screamed who owned the sucker that carried it. She had fallen for those one too many times. She knew it - and she wasn't proud of it. It made her sick. No matter the "brand" or "quality", those parts would still fail, one way or another. That's how they were manufactured - to milk the poor souls dry who were stupid enough to believe that they should replace everything they ever owned. Maybe that's why she left. Not just to run from her problems with debtors and other bullies that would find her, no matter how well she would hide. Maybe, just maybe, she wanted to get at least a few steps further away from the greed that framed her life like a stained silver lining - sterling silver, that is.

She wondered if she even had a heart. She couldn't remember if it was hers, or if it was a cheap knock-off of the original organ. Arcus felt small. Vulnerable. It had been a long time since she had felt so the last time. She didn't like it.

 

Feathers brushing against her shins awoke her from the negative loop of thoughts. She turned her eyes to the kukuri, and was greeted by a face that was worried sick. She scratched its jaw, affirming that she was, actually, alright. Arcus leaned further into the fur of the kukuri, burying herself into its side as far as she could. Its tail feathers covered her lower body as the creature tried to comfort her.

 

Her eyes wandered back to the sky above.