[SOLO] Fun House (Mmur)

[Smerdle]

welcome to mmur's trance solo playground

He wandered out of the Christmassy class with several broken pieces of pilfered gingerbread in his loin cloth and a flutter of dissent in his heart. It was only a tiny flutter—after all, all he had done was ignore a couple of instructions and overmix a little bit of dough—but it still quickened his pulse and brought a grin to his lips. He felt as though he had left a comrade in danger or caught sight of a hunter and let the thing be. Something forbidden, or at the very least, something sternly frowned upon.

Mmur sighed when he reached his nest. It seemed sad somehow, the fact that he hadn't questioned being boxed in all this time, at the mercy of the whims of his betters. And who said they were better anyhow? And why was he at their mercy? True, that was how things had been back home, but their home had been gone for nearly two years now. He could do whatever he wanted, really. The question was, did he have the courage to?

Over the next several weeks, these sorts of thoughts made him feel just devious enough to go exploring without permission. Although he had never strictly needed permission to do much of anything, he had always just thought of the lair as a place for more serious pursuits. Today the area around the human world portals was strangely empty, a single Famine mare on patrol. His visit might have been perfect had she just seen fit to leave him alone.

"May I help you?" The scavenger's voice was higher and whinier than he would have guessed. Mmur couldn't help wondering if humans genuinely found her frightening or if they ran from her out of annoyance.

"Just exploring," he replied. "I'm... I find myself in need of something to do other than stare at the walls and contemplate my past." It was an oddly somber and truthful response especially coming from him, but Mmur realized he had a lot to feel oddly somber and truthful about. His lover had left him, his sister was endlessly preoccupied, and as much as he enjoyed watching Amityville's students run around aimlessly, they often made him feel just as useless as they were.

"Bored, huh?"

"Well, I'm not sure I'd put it that way. I mean..."

"Oh. One of those. Don't fret, little stallion. I won't tell anyone you're shirking your "duty."

Mmur frowned. He was fairly sure she was making fun of him.

"When I'm bored I like to go play with the mirrors. Some of them are just as boring as this place, but some are almost as entertaining as killing meatbags." She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth and grinned, clapping him on the shoulder and pointing off into the next room. "Last one I saw was in there."  

[Smerdle]

past, fairly truthful to current timeline, slightly above average power

He didn't thank the scavenger or outwardly acknowledge her suggestion at all, Mmur simply strode off into the alcove, keeping a sharp eye out for one of her mysterious mirrors. He needn't have tried so hard. On the far wall, something intangible hung from the wall, a shimmering pane of magical energy that reflected the room when he wasn't looking directly at it. When he did stare into its depths, he saw...

"The desert," Mmur whispered. his fingers brushed the mirror's frame, hands running up to lift it off of the peg that held it. He propped it on the floor and leaned it back against the wall, dropping to a crouch in front of it, then taking a seat and crossing his legs. He squinted at the mirror again.

pǝddᴉlɟ plɹoʍ ǝɥʇ

Mmur stood in a desert that was not their own, weapon at the ready. He was certain he had forgotten something, but it was of little consequence. Whatever it had been could not be more important than the task at hand. Today, against the scavenger's better judgment and wishes, Hadan was going to take him human hunting.

"Look here. The encampment is over that rise."

"I know." The soft breeze blowing from the direction he was pointing smelled like fear.

Hadan snorted softly. "You should also know that you must be quiet. None of that flashy whip nonsense you soldiers are so fond of."

Mmur rolled his eyes as his weapon silently dissipated.

"A lot of scavengers who have been at it for a while go in screeching and waving their arms. That's fine if you know how to corral the humans you scare. Since you're new to it, well, we'll take things slowly."

"Don't slow down on my account."

"You'll thank me when we're done."

"Hm. Maybe."

They skimmed through the sand in silence after that, cloaking themselves in mirage as they entered the small settlement. The sun was at its peak and areas that normally bustled with activity, if the abundance of footprints was any indication, were silent as the humans took measures to shield themselves from the heat of the day. Several of the short structures piped a sweet-smelling smoke. Human food, perhaps, or incense. He couldn't tell.

Earlier, the horsemen had gone over their ultimate goal—the capture, the torture, the extraction—but what Mmur was meant to do now he could only guess at. He glanced in Hadan's direction and the scavenger waved him under a nearby awning crafted from lashed together palms.

"We're going in there," he said, indicating one of the patchy buildings with a jerk of his chin.

Mmur nodded. "I'm ready."

They met no resistance as they slipped through the tent's open flaps, and once they were inside, he learned the reason why. The frightened stares of human children were a palpable thing, pressing into his skin like kitten's paws as his vision adjusted to the dark. This was a school. Mmur couldn't decide if he wanted to tease Hadan for being lazy or kiss him for his cleverness.

"Hello," he breathed, earning him a glare from the scavenger. There was an adult in the room, there to watch over the young ones, but she wasn't doing a very good job. She really had no chance of stopping them. It was almost unfair.

Mmur let a friendly smile part his lips as he bent over to get a closer look at the child he had addressed. Nut brown skin, dark hair, and a smile to match his own. A little copy of himself, and unafraid. He leaned in close.

"What do they call you?"

"Aydin."

Mmur swallowed. An oddly meek part of his mind voiced a quiet protest, but he ignored it. Whatever it had to say was not important here, not when he was so close to making Aydin scream.

"I have a surprise for you."

The little boy nodded, leaning forward as if he was getting ready to watch a magic trick. Another child next to him slapped Aydin's shoulder and pointed at their protector. This child clearly couldn't see Mmur and Hadan. Because of this, he would be the first to die.

Mmur reluctantly looked to Hadan for permission to continue. There had been no prior discussion about killing humans today, but now that he was here in the thick of things, he could see no better was to accomplish what they had come to do. Nothing would incite the humans' fear more than showing them just how tenuous their future was. This was a scavenger's purpose, to do every day what other horsemen were only occasionally assigned to. He had known what their work entailed, but being in the field, making these decisions for himself... he truly felt their importance for the first time.

Hadan nodded and Mmur began his training in earnest.

The second boy gasped as the soldier lashed out, wrapping clawed fingers around his tiny bicep. Aydin straightened. The child remained focused on the horseman, eyes wide and unblinking as his friend began to cry.

"Duman, hush." Their guardian didn't look up from her book.

Mmur squeezed harder. A number of other children stirred and woke as Duman wailed, fat drops of blood spattering the floor between them.

"Duman!"

Aydin finally made a small sound of protest. His small hand rose toward Mmur, but it was too late.

With one final squeeze, Duman's arm fell away from his body, dropping to the ground like a sopping rag. The boy had gone into shock, and as the horsemen fled in the resulting heartbeat of silence, no one noticed that one of them stumbled awkwardly, unable to stop staring at what he'd done.  

[Smerdle]

present, very convoluted timeline, hulk power

This is so old now that I'm never going to write it, but it is mentioned briefly later, so here's what would have gone down.

In this trance, Mmur is the King of Machines in a heavily technology-based world. A man named General Golod (it is not clear which faction he belongs to, but he is meant to symbolize what Mmur sees as the mindless consumption encouraged by Scavengers) is trying to take over. Mmur successfully beats Golod back using EPIC POWAH including throwing his own people at the problem and watching thousands die without feeling remorse.

When Mmur wakes up, he is conflicted.

The end.