033. [Text]

[explosivecombat]

The standard example of existential anguish is said to be standing on the edge of a cliff or other high place; there inevitably comes a moment in most self-aware individuals where they experience the realization that not only do they fear falling to their death, but there's nothing stopping them from throwing themselves off. I've always found it strange that a moment of experiencing true freedom like that would be considered distressing rather than a relief; knowing that there's nothing holding me back - that I am in full control of my own choices, whether it's to stand perfectly still or throw myself off - and there is nothing pre-written into whatever it is that I am that will dictate what I do either way is something I've always found calming.

It begs the question, however - do we choose our fears, and more importantly, do we choose how we respond to them?

If nothing is predetermined and everything about our lives comes down to choice, it makes sense to me that our fears also have to come down to choice, whether consciously or not. The part I'm not entirely sure of is the response.

For example, if one is attacked by some sort of animal, it makes sense that one would fear that animal. However, the response to animal attacks tend to vary - some will try to minimize their contact with that sort of animal as much as they can, while others will immerse themselves in it and attempt to desensitize themselves. Is there a particular thing that predetermines what choice a person is going to make?

I'm curious about your thoughts on it; you don't have to detail what fears you have and how you handle them, though if you would like to that might be helpful. I'm more interested in whether you think this sort of thing comes down to ingrained personality - something more inherent, I suppose - or personal choice, and whether such a thing can be changed.

Answer me anonymously if you wish; as always, your response is of more interest to me than your identity, and quite frankly I'm not in the mood to judge either way.

(As for the existential anguish, I've found over the years that I get the greatest satisfaction from neither the thought of staying put, nor the thought of throwing myself off - I've always enjoyed the notion that if I stand on the edge long enough, perhaps someone will act on their compulsion to put their hands against my back and shove.)

Comments

[doitrockapella]

I can't honestly say it'd be the first time I've contemplated it.

[explosivecombat]

If the feeling weren't mutual I may have had to be mildly offended. However...

[doitrockapella]

Does that mean you're willing to return the favor?

[explosivecombat]

It would be rather rude to do otherwise.

[doitrockapella]

Some might disagree, when you consider the nature of the favor. But I also doubt most people would share our mutual penchant for experiencing the rush of gravity.

How long can I expect to have the pleasure of your company?

[explosivecombat]

That depends solely on how long you want it.

[doitrockapella]

You might be gone awhile.

[explosivecombat]

How long?

[doitrockapella]

Are you worried about missing your curfew?

[explosivecombat]

Should I be opposed to missing my curfew for some reason? You know what I'm coming back to.

[doitrockapella]

Well, in the interest of nipping another game of "how long can we answer each other's questions with more questions" in the bud, I think I can come up with enough diversions to keep you entertained well past your curfew.

[explosivecombat]

Consider me intrigued, then.

[doitrockapella]

Does that put you in a better mood?

My fears are all acquired ones, by the way. I'm one of the ones who responds to my fears by making myself face them.

[explosivecombat]

It does, in some ways.

For reference, mine are entirely acquired, and while they're very few in number I tend to be more avoidant than anything, as little as I like that.

I've made myself work through two of them due to necessity here, however.

[doitrockapella]

...Ghosts and the dark, wasn't it?

[explosivecombat]

The dark was one, in a way - specifically the cave systems here resembling a certain situation I did not want to be in at all costs.

The other was actually centered around the fact that I kept getting a specific Pokemon when people left this place that resembled the thing that contributed heavily to my death.

[doitrockapella]

A...Gengar? I remember we've discussed our mutual problems with that line before.

...

Do I want to know how those two things go together?

[explosivecombat]

The Gengar line is a problem for different reasons entirely; the one I kept receiving was Luxray, actually.

...to answer your question somewhat, something resembling the Gengar line is what actually killed me; the lion just heavily contributed. So I have yet to work through my issues with the Gengars.

I can answer you properly, however, if you're certain you want to know.

[doitrockapella]

...If you don't mind.

That's not just a formality, I mean — it's obviously not pleasant to talk about, but I'd like to know, if you're all right with it.

[explosivecombat]

The one that killed me - Father's eldest son - had the power to manipulate something resembling shadows. I don't know how he did it, and I never asked, but the fact was he was entirely capable of it.

The "shadows" he used were capable of extending out beyond his body, landing wherever shadows were capable of falling - useless in complete darkness or blinding light, but otherwise he could use them almost anywhere that had a light source. He preferred low light in confined areas - tunnels and hallways, mostly. Places where he could cover almost the entire space with them, without interference. They were covered in eyes that he was able to open at any time, and he could see through all of them at once; they also had several mouths full of teeth, and he could render them solid to form hands and blades with them if he needed to.

I told you that he had an artifact that he used to keep souls in; he kept it inside his body, and he would add people to it by eating them alive.

[doitrockapella]

[Well, shit. Perhaps unsurprisingly, there's a pretty long pause here. But she did say she wanted to hear it, and she's still thinking about what she said earlier, about facing things rather than avoiding them.]

So the lion must've...incapacitated you, and the eldest —

[...Nope, she can't even say it.]

Is that the last thing you remember, from before you were brought back here?

[explosivecombat]

No, actually.

Your soul remains conscious after you die physically, assuming you have somewhere else to put it.

[doitrockapella]

Isn't that how you said a Philosopher's Stone works? You use the souls as currency and then exchange them for alchemy?

...

The people are conscious for that?

[explosivecombat]

For a given degree of "consciousness," yes. They don't retain their individuality, they more or less end up assimilated into a mass of sorts. Apparently I'm an exception for some reason, given that I kept my sense of self and according to the eldest, that isn't something that's ever happened before.

It's very loud in there, and supposedly it's terribly unpleasant; I didn't find it to be such at all, however.

[doitrockapella]

...Well, I always knew you were exceptional.

Is that what happened, though? The stone was used for alchemy and all the souls were...used up?