SATURDAY JULY 2ND, 2011

(Rael's Exodus IV: EAT)

8:12 AM
I dreamt of a wide ocean. Storm clouds flocked in, and then a finger rose from the sea. It extended, revealing a hand, and then an arm. It was an absolutely giant arm.
Then I heard Genesis playing. The arm became a shoulder, and something else was about to rise out of the water when I woke up.
I woke up to “The Fountain of Salmacis.”

8:20 AM
“Good morning, passengers. This is your captain speaking. We’re over halfway across the Atlantic, making great progress, should be touching down on New Jersey soil on Monday.
“Now, uh.. it seems that a lot of you are gone. Well, don’t worry! We’ll pull through this, the rest of you, and we’ll survive. In the meantime, we’ve got some fantastic music here. Still in Yates’ collection, and uh.. well, it’s really growing on me! It’s some great stuff. That was Nursery Cryme, Genesis, for the second time. And uh.. I think we’ll give this one here a try. Meddle, by.. Pink Floyd!
“So yes, smooth sailing, all that. Stay alive! Fitzgerald out.”

9:02 AM
Donnie’s up. We’re gonna go get some breakfast.

9:14 AM
There’s a kid here in the hall. That’s Miss DeNumante’s kid. Brian’s his name, I think.
He seems.. quiet. Is he alright?

9:15 AM
Donnie’s taking care of him. She’s taking him with us.

9:21 AM
Bacon and eggs for breakfast! Yum.

9:30 AM
Ms. Desmond walked by the door.
I asked Donnie if she can leave Brian here for a bit. She’s getting Chef Gusteau to look after him for us.

9:33 AM
Where is Ms. Desmond going?

9:34 AM
Donnie’s caught up. She scared me. >.>

9:35 AM
Terry’s gone in a circle. She’s going into the dining room.
..Brian’s staring at her. He’s following her with his eyes.

9:36 AM
WHOA HEY HEY HEY
OH GOD
TIGER STRIPES
SMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASH!!!

9:37 AM
She got away. She killed Chef Gusteau, and she got away with it.
Goddammit! Motherefsdfjfuckeffsdi9gis, everyone’s dying.
But you should have seen her. She picked Zach up and just freaking threw him at a wall, fucking superhuman strength. Then she grabbed a knife.
My god, the Rake and Masky are dead, but we’ve got even bigger problems.

9:50 AM
“Uh.. attention, passengers? Captain speaking. I’ve just been informed that.. the ship’s chef, Zach Gusteau, is.. dead.
“Hm. Maybe there’s really a problem going on. Could everyone gather in the bridge? Everyone that’s alive, that is. We’re gonna have a meeting and a headcount. In the meantime, stay alive. Fitzgerald out.”

10:44 AM
We did the headcount.
Passenger-wise, there’s Richard and Meredith Burgandy (who freaked out over their door being kicked down, but didn’t mention any papers), Mister and Missus Finch and Omar (Mister and Omar were quiet and stuck together; Missus looks highly stressed and lost in thought), Mister and Missus Haggard (stayed away from each other the whole time, refused to acknowledge each other’s existence), Mister and Missus Tickrand (said not a word), and Brian DeNumante (said not a word). And of course, Jordan and DonDonnie and Jordan.
Crew-wise, there’s Captain Jonathan Fitzgerald and Doctor Jackson. That’s it.
Ms. Terry Desmond was absent.
We counted fourteen people left. Nearly half the boat’s dead. o_o
People wanted to know what’s going on. Captain Fitzgerald explained that there were two deadly serial killers on-board, but they have both been dispatched. So now there’s “nothing to worry about.”
People are still worried. I don’t blame ‘em!

11:03 AM
..Doctor Jackson’s
wait
Mister Finch is leading Doctor Jackson to the deck. Omar’s with them.
I’m gonna follow them this time.

11:08 AM
..o_____o
They threw him overboard! They threw him overboard! What the ffff

11:09 AM
And now they’re helping him back up.
And.. now he’s quiet.
HELLO I WAS JUST LEAVING

11:11 AM
I WISH I CAN MAKE IT BACK TO MY ROOM

11:23 AM
Oh hi Donnie, please may I have a cuddle, thank you.

11:25 AM
We’ve clearly got some sort of.. I dunno, conspiracy or something going on among certain passengers. Except it’s an apocalyptic conspiracy of monsters and stuff. God, I don’t know. I really don’t, journal.
I’m still tired. I mean, I’ve been sleeping a lot lately, but I just.. sometimes I don’t want to wake up at all, y’know?
I just wanna be back in America. I wanna get off this ship alive. ._.;

11:58 AM
Door knocking. o_e
..it’s the Haggards.

11:59 AM
They’ve decided that the safest way to make it through this trip alive would be to stick together. They want us to come with them and get all the other passengers together for the rest of the trip.
That’s the smartest plan I’ve heard yet.

12:14 PM
The Burgandys agreed to stick with us.

12:19 PM
..I saw something.
Someone.

12:20 PM
TERRY
She’s gone where is she what’s she planning?

12:21 PM
Wherever she is, she’s following us. o_e

12:24 PM
FCN
MFS
MISSUS FINCH, fucking no, that’s just no c’mon where did she even get a gun
She k
TERRY
GODDAMMIT
NO DAMMIT
GETB AK
Goddammit. I can’t help anyone.
WAIT WAHT THFUFKC
HOLY FCUK
OH MY GOD
WINGS

1:02 PM
First of all, Missus Finch is dead. Looked to be a suicide, but what difference does it make at this point?
Ms. Desmond struck again. This time, she got both of the Haggards.
She was gonna get more of us, but then Mister Finch stepped in and knocked her to the ground. Then he
>_<
His back
it ripped open
All this blood everywhere but it wasn’t blood
It was water D:
And out of his back extended two giant wings of flesh and pulsating organs.
He’s a fucking Flying Zombie, somehow he’s augvjsdvaI junfodsi
She ran then she retreated
The Burgandys ran too. Fast.
Donnie and I are back in our own room. It’s the safest we’ve been just shut up, gah.
Brian’s okay. He is.
But will we be? After long enough? >.<

3:39 PM
Fell asleep. Dreamt of water. Water. More water. My watery grave.
…fuck it, I’m going back to it.

5:25 PM
Woke up to banging on door.

5:46 PM
It’s Mister Finch and Omar.
“Follow You Follow Me.”
That’s.. what Mister Finch said.
Then they left.
..I’m.. gonna follow them.

5:47 PM
Donnie’s coming too. Mostly because Brian ran right out the door and is following the others like we are.

6:01 PM
It’s the deck.
..Mister Finch, Omar, Brian, Mister and Missus Tickrand, and Doctor Jackson are gathered here. Looking at me blankly.
“Rael, it appears to be time to tell you about my private matter.”
I asked why everyone else is here.
They all said “I’m the only one here.” At the same time.
I hear splashes from below.
What have I gotten myself into.
Mister Finch steps forward.
“In madness, you dwell, Rael. Welcome to the End Complete.”
The.. what.
"You like that style of music, don't you? You and your friend. It gets your attention. I realize this may be a lot to bear, but— as much as I would rather not admit it— I need.. another pair of eyes."
I.. but who? Who are you?
“Oh, must you ask such questions? ..I suppose, yes, you must. Ordinarily I would relish the challenge of placing myself within your words, and perhaps it would benefit me to consult with the others on the ways they would recommend, but this is a strange time for all of us. I will try to be brief.
"If you are to identify me, and not any of my bodies, I believe the accepted nomenclature coined by humans is the Evolutionary Adverse Trigger, or, pleasingly, EAT. In fact, I would insist upon EAT, rather than the former. You humans are better at coming up with acronyms than you are at scientific names. How have you not yet figured out the necessity of the aesthetic consideration in functional, scientific contexts? You do not separate the mind and the body, and you do not separate the aesthetic from the functional. It's just a matter of efficient communication."
Uh. Okay. o___o; EAT. Hi.. EAT.
"I digress. I am not used to the habit of direct conversation with humans. Are we done with the matter of identity? I would like to proceed."
Yeah. Sorry.
"Please. You've noticed the progressive instability of our environment?"
The.. ship?
"The Earth."
Oh. The apocalypse thing.
"What do you know of the reason?"
donnie "Rapture is coming."
"Yes. Rapture. Do you know anything of Rapture?"
Religion? Something about rabbit holes and doors. And INDISEN.
"Going down the list, firstly, this has nothing to do with any Earthly religion, past or present. Second is the dDoors. That's capital-D, journal-keeper."
Y-yes, got it. o:
"You've read the papers I helped you obtain?"
Yes.
“So you’ve made the connection between ‘rabbit holes’ and Doors."
Uh!
looking at donnie
she's looking back at me
Um! No, EAT.
"Well, Rael, they're one and the same. The Doors are the 'rabbit holes.' And the Doors are the key to Rapture, the key to identifying, navigating, and, perhaps, addressing Rapture."
donnie "Addressing? So you're.. 'against' Rapture?"
"You have to ask? Understand: No living thing on Earth wants Rapture. Not even we Fears want Rapture."
..'Fears?'
"Capital F, make sure you get that. It's a term that has stuck among my peers. They seem to like it. I believe a human invented the term for us first, as throughout your history we have inspired your storytelling, in fact your drive for abstraction— itself born from storytelling— comes from us. As storytelling, and by extension verbal communication, has trended in many directions over hundreds of thousands of years, so too have your names for us. And, as horror is your culture's current storytelling drive, it was only natural that your new name for us would stem from horror. Hence, 'Fear,' as I understand it."
Uh....…
"You used to call us 'gods.'"
.…
oh god.
"Quite."
donnie "Was the Harlequin a g-- a Fear?"
"Yes. And we know what you two did to her. You are attracting attention, as humans aren't normally known for dealing such decisive action to us— though, again, these are special circumstances. Most of my peers will want to get a look at you, and indeed some are already planning to. I hope, for your sakes, that they will decide you are a curiosity rather than an X factor. An X factor makes plans interesting. You do not want to make their plans interesting."
...>___<;;
"..of course, some of us aspire for nothing less than to be made curious, and I count myself among those ranks. It might even be in my best interests to keep the two of you... alive. You have inertia. Your story is underway. You have— in fact, you are— an opportunity to test some theories and find out how some uncertainties work. You can help me learn of the Indisen if you're careful."
R-right! Indisen! Let's talk about them!
"The Indisen are another X factor, albeit one that pose a threat to me."
Why are they called 'Indisen?'
"Oh, I made the term. It stands for Individualistic Sentience. I do not think I handled the aesthetic value of the terms as well as the Genera did with mine…"
Sorry, individualistic sentience? What does that mean?
all the bodies are looking out at the sea. Pausing.
"I want you to first understand that I have many bodies."
We're looking at them, yes.
"No, you are looking at a group of them. This one you are specifically focused on, formerly Edward Finch, is but one of thousands."
o_______o;;;;
"These days, my bodies are known as Camper. We are the Camper. EAT is the Camper, and the Camper are EAT, being of knowledge." they all said that at once. I should have expected it, but, it's still disconcerting.
"And then the Indisen are Camper who.. are no longer a part of me. This was not possible until May 21st. On that day, I lost all sense of a single body. Upon investigation, I found that body, that Camper, acting of its own will. Hence: Individualistic Sentience."
...so Ms. Desmond…
"The body formerly known as Terry Desmond is no longer a human. She became me. Then, not that long ago, she, too, became detached from me. The Indisen are dangerous, Rael. They're fighting back, against me, and against bystanders. I do not observe discrimination in their hostility, not predictably so anyway. They're acting very much like cornered animals, but with the very real potential to be as intelligent and cunning as any of you."
..shit. okay. And you say they arrived on May 21st?
"The first day of red sky, yes. So I am led to believe they are directly connected to Zan— the.. apocalypse."
Huh?
"Never you mind. I still have uncertainties and suspicions. As far as facts are concerned, I've told you all you need to know. Now we come to the end of our discussion, and I must ask that you pay close attention to the Indisen from now on, wherever you should meet them. More than that, do your best to stay alive, won't you? If you were of sufficient interest to the Harlequin, you will be of interest to me, and I like to be interested."
....…
.....…
Okay!!
.....…
.....…
Wait, we're turning to leave now, but actually, I should probably ask you something.
"Please, ask."
There's a festival in the rabb the Doors, a music festival, with a crowd of bodies that.. remind me of you. And it's. It's literally called the Camper Festival.
"…"
Is this.. your thing?
"You've managed to give me completely new, pertinent, information after a single conversation. I am processing the information, and I am processing the fact that you have volunteered it."
So. You didn't even know about it? o_o
"I didn't."
...
"You've had a long journey. I suggest you return to your rooms and wait for sleep."

11:00 PM
six

(Attached: “And there you have it, there’s the abstract equation herself. ‘Being of knowledge,’ that’s very much her kind of self-description. Not at all accurate, but Salmacis rarely tries to be when it comes to herself. If I had to wager a guess, I’d say that’s a side effect of never really having a singular body to identify with. Salmacis is, at all times, many bodies and one mind. Always getting more bodies, and with the apocalypse losing them. Depersonalization is probably second-nature to her. Salmacis is, you could say, 'classically’ minded. It doesn’t believe in ruling through fear, though don’t let that fool you into thinking it’ll never go out of her way to intentionally scar a person for life. It’ll just do it for the sake of.. curiosity. To see what happens. Never stand in her way, never threaten her, and never threaten her planet. You’ll find out why some call her EAT. Then you might get to join her mind, and you’ll never worry about your problems ever again. You’ll never feel again. You’ll never do anything of your own will, for you will no longer have a will, or rather you’ll come to terms with the idea that perhaps none of us ever had one to begin with.”)