Marks of ownership

She wandered up and down the streets of the city, fingers brushing every building, lamp post, street sign, bench and trash can.

"You're mine. I own you. I love you." she murmurs to each thing, before hacking and spitting a gob of phlegm and blood on it, marking it, claiming it as hers.

At night, the shadows came and glided over the city, unable to find purchase. Hissing. Scrabbling. Passing. Gone.

Again.

"Viable" was not one of the listed requirements

What can I do? I just don't KNOW.

Well, there's a lot you can do.

But it seems like I only have two options!

Nonsense! You can do ANYTHING.

Like what?

Well, you could kill them.

... what?

You could kill yourself.

Um.

You could go through with it. Stick around, maybe you'll grow to like it, or realize you always wanted it.

Wait-

You could go through with it and then pull a runner. Really, you're not obligated to stick around after the fact.

No!

You can just run now. Pull up stakes, don't tell anyone, just take everything and go, and never look back.

But I-

You could run later! Announce to one and all that you're not staying, and say your goodbyes.

What?! That's- that's just awful!

YOU COULD TALK TO THEM. You know, actually explain YOUR position, where your head is at, maybe make sure you know what they want or are expecting, discuss and negotiate this like two rational, mature people...

Well, after everything else you said..!

Shut up, I'm not done yet. You could do something to ruin your eligibility. Sleep around a lot, steal stuff, set something on fire... lot of options down that road. You could beat them to the punch, and just do it yourself. You could ignore it, pretend it never happened. You could say no, and just. Not. Do it. You could do it, but force it to be on your terms. You could bribe them, pay them off. You could do MANY things. So don't tell me you don't know what to do, or that you have no choice. You DO. You just don't want to pick any of them.

...

So. What do you WANT to do about it?

Third wheels and kidney punches

I turned the corner and practically ran into him. With a bellowed accusation I lunged at him... and right into the attack he was dodging from the fight he was already in. I swore, a little from pain, but mostly at him.

This always happens. ALWAYS. Whenever we manage to track each other down, or more usually, stumble into each other, one of us is already busy. Well, "busy." It's fighting. It's always fighting.

I know I don't fight all the time. I assume he doesn't either. From what we've actually seen of each other though, it'd be impossible to tell. It doesn't help that we try to kill each other the moment we see each other, 

It's just... so incredibly frustrating. There's ALWAYS someone else! Or something else. Whatever. We both want to kill each other. I want to kill him. He's always attacked me on sight, if I don't see him first. And EVERY SINGLE TIME, one of us is already fighting!

Neither of us will follow through while there's a chance that it lets the other get killed by a third party. It's supposed to be US. One of US kills the other. Or, I don't know, beats the shit out of them. Who knows how far it'd go? We never get a chance to see!

One day though... I know, I just know, one day one of us will snap and not care. We'll won't care about anyone else and just FOCUS.

I really hope it's me. I do.

Not all relationships are mutually beneficial

Whoooo ha ha ha!

Damn it! Leave me alone!

Come ON! This is great!

No! It's not! GO AWAY!

Never! I am NEVER giving this up! Whooo!

Grah! I hate you! I hate you hate you hate you!

Bwa ha ha!

I hate YOU, I hate THIS, I hate that I can't DO anything..!

So... awesome!

HATE.

Seriously, you know I'm never going to leave you now, right? Ever.

I can't touch you, but maybe if I focus all my rage into a single point, it can set you on fire.

You can't. I know. It's been tried.

ARGH!

Mmm... music to my ears.

Endless variety of life

She takes a week to just watch people.

The first day is her watching herself watch people. She just goes into a crowd and focuses on not looking at the ground and noting what she notices. She learns, first that it is harder than she thought, she is so unused to the endeavor, and second that she notices clothes & butts first, followed closely by hair. She considers that staring at peoples butts is a compromise, staring is easier when people are turned away, that it's halfway between the ground and their eyes. She suspects she's just staring at their butts.

The next day she tries to focus on faces. They pass quickly, and it's uncomfortable, so the day becomes a jumble of pieces and impressions. Cheekbones & boredom. Bags under the eyes, a thin jaw. Wisps of hair above pouty lips. A skewed hairline & pale, pale eyebrows. A mouth twisted and wide in laughter.

A new day, a new focus. Hands. Shoulders. Posture.

By the end of the week, she realizes she has never seen the same person twice. She has drifted from place to place for lunch, and people don't usually go to the park every day, but still... she rides the same buses at the same times. She loiters in the same cafe after work hours, the same bar after dinner. No one, driver, customer, staff, no one is the same.

She still watches people, scared to stop now.

The process is paramount to the results

No one's here.

We don't know that.

Yes, we do. There's no where to hide, there's no doors, there's NO ONE here.

We don't know that!

Where?! Where could ANYONE be here?

I don't know! Okay? Maybe there's a trench, or a secret passage, or an optical illusion, or-

Or they're INVISIBLE, or TINY, or or or what? There's no one HERE.

We're going to look.

Why?

Just do it.

But there's-

Just. Do it.

Fine. Fine! But there's no one-

Here. I know. But we're going to look, so shut up and get to work.

Ugh. Whatever.

Yes. Whatever. Now LOOK.

The hirsute shores

Hair.

He maps the borders of his body. Where the hair gives way to skin; the continent of his chest, the islands of his knuckles. His forehead grows every year, but his beard makes its own advances in balance.

He completes his surveys, and nods.

The unstoppable message

So, that's why I think we'd be better off-

Rauuaghg!!

No, no, hear me out, it makes sense.

Shut up! Shut up shut up shut up and DIE!

Seriously, just let me explain!

... what? How are you- stop talking!

Look, if you'll just give me a chance to explain...

No! No no no! I can FEEL your windpipe being crushed under my fingers!

It'll only take a couple of minutes, I swear!

I'm- I'm CHOKING you. I am squeezing as HARD as I can. Why are you still talking?

Okay, maybe more than a couple, but not much more. I can cover the important points quickly, I swear.

HOW? How are you still talking?

First off, and you're going to love this-

I'm in hell. This is hell, isn't it? Oh god.