Character Lost & Found #2: Elliot's Fable & Alex's Texts
Elliot explains the cosmos like Adam's five, while Alex texts her way through existential bureaucracy.
The door to the Character Lost & Found creaks open once more... step inside for another look at the off-script reality. My deepest thanks to my paid subscribers for allowing us to retrieve these moments from the void!
In this collection: Witness a truly bizarre 'bedtime story' session between Elliot and Adam involving shattered stars, and intercept Alex's frantic texts as she endures Thalia's unique brand of hospitality. See what happens when they think you all aren’t paying attention...
Elliot Reads Adam a Bedtime Story from Dimension 7
Source: Recovered interaction recording.
Estimated time: Shortly after events of EotWI Part 5. Subject 'Adam' exhibiting high agitation post-identity reveal.
“Or it did. Until Envy.”
"Fragments? What fragments?!" I was pacing, probably, or maybe just vibrating with pure confusion and adrenaline.
"None of this makes any damn sense, Elliot! You talk in riddles wrapped in metaphors inside ancient history nobody remembers! Speak plain English! Or... whatever the cosmic equivalent is!"
Elliot just watched me, that infuriatingly calm, slightly amused expression on his face. He let out a soft sigh, the kind one reserves for explaining something obvious to a particularly dense but potentially dangerous toddler.
"Adam," he began, his voice dripping with exaggerated patience, "your newly re-awakened... faculties... are clearly overwhelmed by concepts beyond your recent human parameters." He made a small, dismissive gesture, and a slim object appeared in his hand—it looked unnervingly like a very old, very simple children's picture book bound in something that might have been starlight or maybe just worn leather.
"Even nascent sparks," Elliot continued, flipping the book open with a condescending flick of his wrist, "entities freshly fractured in, say, Dimension 7, grasp the fundamental nature of our existence through simple allegory. Perhaps this will manage to penetrate your current... density?"
He held it out slightly, clearly expecting annoyance or offense.
Instead, my eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. After millennia (apparently!) of confusion and hours of high-stress cosmic horror, simple sounded like a godsend.
"A children's book?" I practically snatched at the idea. "Seriously? Yes! Does it have pictures? Simple words? Okay, hit me. Lay it on me. This might actually work!"
Elliot blinked, maybe the first flicker of genuine surprise I'd seen from him that wasn't abject fear. A slow, almost predatory smile spread across his face. "As you wish," he murmured, settling back as if preparing for story time, his voice taking on a smooth, slightly theatrical cadence...
In the very first dark, before 'before' meant anything, there was the Great Mother Star.
She wasn't like light; She was Light, holding everything inside Herself. All the colors, all the feelings. And, perhaps brightest and most baffling of all to the other parts, She held the warm, steady glow of Creating, of Connecting, of Loving the little echoes and possibilities that flickered within Her.
She shone complete in the endless quiet.
But maybe holding everything grows heavy. Or maybe some of the sharper, louder feelings inside Her grew restless, jealous of the attention She gave to the quiet, creative parts, or fearful of that strange, steady warmth they didn't understand.
One cycle, things shifted. Perhaps the Star sighed, or perhaps the restless parts pushed too hard from within. There was a great SHATTERING.
Crack! Scatter!
And brilliant shards of the Great Mother Star flew out into the new darkness, each ablaze with a single, raw, overwhelming feeling, forgetting the whole they left behind.
One shard burned with incandescent Arrogance, instantly declaring itself the glorious Center, demanding all others orbit its brilliance. (Pride).
Another pulsed hot and red with Fury, lashing out, hating the shadows, resenting any light brighter than its own simmering rage. (Wrath).
A third danced like quicksilver, driven by insatiable Desire—craving every sensation, every reaction, every connection, simply needing more, always more. (Lust).
Nearby, a shard pulsed with a cold, green Coveting, hiding and watching, consumed by bitterness over the light possessed by others, especially the radiant Pride shard. (Envy).
Then there was the shard that only understood Acquisition, pulling lesser lights into itself, hoarding energy with a constant, greedy hum of "Mine..." (Greed).
Other lesser fragments tumbled out as well—one heavy with Apathy (Sloth), another driven only by raw Hunger (Gluttony). Simple drives, forgetting complexity.
But distinct from these sharp, demanding fragments, the largest piece remained: the Warm, Creative Heart of the Mother Star. It didn't boast or burn with a single drive; it generated.
It pulsed with a gentle, foundational light, radiating a profound Love and Connection, focused only on nurturing the fragile sparks of new existence taking form in the darkness.
And the newly formed, loud shards—Pride, Wrath, Envy, Greed, Lust—looked upon this quiet, generative Heart. They felt its different kind of power—not assertion or consumption, but creation and connection. They saw its focus wasn't on them or dominance, but on nurturing... and they were afraid.
Deeply afraid of what they couldn't comprehend, couldn't control, and what made their own sharp edges feel incomplete. They feared She might try to gather them back, dilute their newfound intensity, or worse, simply outshine them with Her different, steady light.
So, they whispered together, the Angry and the Jealous urging the others on, and even the Proud one, wanting no rivals, agreed. They wove a heavy cloak of Forgetting and Sleep, pulling it tight around the Warm, Creative Heart.
They pushed Her far away into a quiet corner of existence, binding Her light, hoping She would sleep forever and forget She was ever the Star. They told themselves it was necessary, that Her ways were too different, too... distracting from their own ambitions.
Then the scattered sparks tried to make patterns in the dark, but without the Warm Heart to connect them, they mostly just bumped and argued.
The Angry Spark burned things.
The Grabbing Spark took too much.
And the Jealous Spark whispered lies, always trying to dim the Proud Spark it secretly envied most.
They wandered far and wide, these powerful, lonely sparks, carrying their single, sharp feelings. Always glancing back towards the quiet corner where the Heart slept, half-hoping She would wake, half-terrified that She might.
Elliot closed the imaginary book with a soft snap. He looked at me, raising a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "Comprehensible now, little spark? Or do we need the pop-up version?"
I was still processing, the simple story somehow landing with more weight than his earlier pronouncements. "I... yeah," I muttered, maybe rubbing my temples. "Okay. So the green spark really, really didn't like the bright one. And they were all scared of the... the Heart part." My eyes narrowed. "Why?"
Elliot just smiled that infuriatingly knowing smile. "Ah," he said softly. "Now that requires a different story altogether..."
Texts From the Crucible
Source: Recovered Mobile Comms Data Fragments
Timestamp Estimate: Post-Void Arrival, Pre-Ambush
Signal Integrity: Surprisingly Stable (Mostly)
Alex [11:03 AM] Okay, this "grand tour" of the so-called Crucible? Infinite beige cubicles that smell faintly of BO. Pretty sure Thalia just explained their entire soul-auditing process using a poorly designed flowchart. With mandatory Q&A. Kill me.
Adam [11:04 AM] lol seriously? A flowchart?! Did Sexy Space Witch take you to the Interdimensional DMV or something? Pretty sure that's an actual circle of Hell they don't advertise.
[11:04AM] You okay though?
[11:04AM] She's not getting weird, right?
[11:05AM] I mean weirder than baseline 'ancient cosmic entity' weird.
Alex [11:05 AM] NOT KIDDING ADAM. There was literally a water cooler filled with something that looked like solidified screams AND IT WAS BUBBLING. And the constant passive-aggressive commentary on 'mortal fragility' and 'chaotic human energy signatures'? Out of fuckin’ pocket.
[11:05AM] She just critiqued my 'auric field maintenance.' Said it looked 'untidy.'
Adam [11:06 AM] Your AURA is untidy?? What does that even MEAN?! No bitch tells you your aura’s dirty tf?
[11:06AM] jfc that was supposed to WITCH. THE ONE TIME AUTO CORRECT DECIDES I MEAN WHAT I SAY. DUCK.
[11:06AM] DUCK
[11:06AM] F duck!
[11:06AM] Getting seriously bad vibes from her 'friend' Elliot over here. Dude's way too smooth.
Alex [11:07 AM] If I have to hear about 'proper energetic containment protocols for visiting dignitaries' one more time I might actually lose my fucking mind. Hold on—
Alex [11:07 AM] Okay, no joke, pretty sure the cooler just blinked at me when Thalia wasn't looking. And now she's looking at me like she knows I saw it. Gotta go NOW.
Adam [11:08 AM] Blinked?? Alex??
Adam [11:09 AM] Lex?? What's going on??
[11:09AM] Shit. Elliot's asking what's got me spooked. Talk later. Be safe.
[11:10AM] Would you still love me if I were an ancient cosmic entity akin to one of the seven deadly sins? Pride, specifically?
[11:10AM] AND BEFORE YOU SAY ANYTHING
[11:10AM] I get the whole ‘would you love me if I were a worm’ trend now.
Elliot's bedside manner… surprisingly effective or deeply condescending? Alex's texts: hilarious distress signals or coded warnings we should decipher?
Share your interpretations, favorite moments of existential texting, and any theories sparked by Elliot's fable in the comments!
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Until the next story,
—Your Narrator 🌙🖤