Cent's Yuenyeung [ Too Much Tea, Not Enough Coffee ]

To: Cent

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Oh geeze
I don't know what to say, but
Gosh I'm sorry, my last message was meant to be talking about myself, I don't know what you're thinking right now but I can guess. You don't have to reply, please dont feel bad about that.
Um. Let me start over.
I've been in your position before. There are people who to this day I've never gotten back in touch with after an awkward pause just kept stretching on and on. Its very easy to just, not say anything rather than possibly break the silence, and it just gets harder as time goes on. And I know I said I dislike that, and that's true, but only because it makes me feel regretful, that my interaction with a person just ends, and I never hear from them again. Its like losing a book when you're halfway through, i wouldnt be angry  at the book or anything. So I didn't expect to get this message today, but when I saw it, and who it was from, I was happy. I'm glad you've, continued to reply. A lot of people get trapped in that cycle.
I don't really have a profession. I don't think I'd have the rigour to be an actual scientist or historian. When I get curious about the history of objects, I'm mostly just daydreaming to be honest, heh. I've heard about libraries and museums, and I would love to go see one, but there aren't any around my area.
I mostly just take my coffee plain. Don't really go in for anything complicated. Its not very important to me.
About creative projects, well, I tend to just let ideas sit in my mind for a long time and just kinda, crystallize over time, until they get big enough that I can just do something in a single go. Well, not a single go. But I've never actively worked on something over a really long period of time. This might not be very helpful to you though. Creative processes are pretty personal things.
You're right about one thing, you don't really know me, and I don't really know you. But I would like to. What's your earliest memory?
My name is Dalorh, by the way.

To: Dalorh, Kinda Unsure

Well, thank you for replying, Dalorh. It means a lot, and I know it takes a lot, too. I guess we'll both keep giving it our best shots for as long as that lasts. If this is a creative project, and an ongoing one at that, then it's a foray into that idea for you. Try not to feel negative thoughts just because you aren't working on something, yeah?

My earliest memory is kind of a corny one, but it's of my mom. We've lived in Bends my whole life, but she used to take me on treks when I was a nymph to the top floor, so we could just sit together and watch the stars. We'd look at constellations and point them out with our legs together. I always felt pretty proud I could find Nadezhda and Laika even with all the light pollution. In my mom's time, there were infinitely more of us, and so much more light, so I guess in retrospect, it was as mystifying for her as it was for me.

You know, it's alright not to have a profession. We live in times of shaky abundance, and though it's made life very confusing for me personally, it helps not to have the ever-encroaching worry to do something.

Even if that worry never really goes away, I guess. Hard not to feel driven to make a mark, especially when we've got so much space left for us. My neighbors, a couple of the last people in Bends, try to spread their 'wings' as far as possible, but there's no way to fill empty halls. Along with the urge to create, there's also this present worry that nobody will ever see what you've made.

It's hard to be a scientist or historian. Still, rigor can be learned, and... well, I don't know. Do those actually sound like things you want to do? What do you do for fun?

- I Will Reply

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To: Cent

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Lmao hey

you've reached jazzmon. idk where brooklyn is at but you've probs got just as fuckall clue where kiawah island is yeah? us bugs resident on Ocean Course had this intranet set up by cutter's grandqueen some way back when. cutter blesst be he in the sporethroes climbed his stem three spring tides ago, i dunno if it was him or Glidant you were hopin to talk to but yeah. soz if that comes as a shock or sad bad news but thats par for the course yknow? i stepped up to the sysdamin role after cutter took his last clamber and im still learning the ropes but yeah. i checked cutter's records and Glidant got rl steamed that some city bug had got his email n figured it was gonna be easier to just set up Glidant up with a new one and just. keep the old one you ended up msging in case there was somethin important? im sorry that like. lettin you know that happened wasn't on his list but hey at least i got to see it! sure i ain't been around much like Glidant did in his younger years so my life probs aint too exciting for you to hear about but it's still kinda cool ig for me to make a random connection like this? idk even if cutter wouldve msg'd you back if you had replied while he was still around as sysadmin n keepin half an eye on Glidant's og email. Well i say og but accordin to cutter Glidant got himself in this mess near once every long chill lmao. dude kept forgettin we had limited inter-network bandwidth n wasted it all lookin up hot pillbug gifs. guess ol gliddy kept signin up to weird mailin lists to get his gif on and mayb thats where you got his address? who the eff knows tho tbh. but uh yeah glidant? cool guy. sad to say tho if you were hopin to talk to him none of us in Ocean Course know where hes at exactly. dude went off on another one of his expeditions, actually lookin back thru the hole 11 msg board he was off to the beach? One of Flimsy's sprats (note to self: get those kids their own device set up before next long chill) posted on here saying Glidant told em he was off to the 'pod races down at boardwalk 40. Wild if tru.

jeez this got long my b. but yeah Glidant's a rl interesting dude but doesn't really get tech as a way of stayin in touch much. idk when he'll next be back on the Course but if you wanted to know more about him then maybe shoot me some questions n i could like? ask him when he next stops by? or yknow get one of the hole 11 locals to ask for me cuz its a bit of a hike for a cicada nymph like myself. don't be a stranger yeah?

-jazzmon

To: Jazzmon, Privately Networked

God, sysadmin? That's a heck of a job. I can't imagine trying to wrangle everyone on a network when there's so many individual factors that go wrong. But I guess there's also a lot to get good at, a lot to master, so maybe that's part of the appeal.

I'm sorry to hear about Cutter. I know, a million miles away, that doesn't mean much, but losing someone is always, always its own unique process, and I wish you the best for it. I know caffeine doesn't affect everyone the same, but for my family it keeps us from dying out our natural way, same as most species of roach. So when people do die, it's hard to abstract it away as some natural occurrence that was peaceful or sleepy or something. And when there are bugs that don't last as long on the stuff, it's... something that makes you scream at the moon. It does sound like you've taken up the mantle well, though-- I'm sure the ant would appreciate you keeping up the intranet, you know?

Anyway, Brooklyn is just a part of New York City. I actually can't remember what the exact limits are, something about residential and commercial districts or something... but regardless, once humans winked out cities were incredible grounds for way, way too many bugs. Now we've got way too few, and we're way less of a city and more of a big molehill gone too vertical.

I don't really know Glidant or you better than each other, but I wouldn't mind two people to talk to, if you wanted to be the penpal messenger, or whatever. That sounds like a pretty neat deal out of a random email-call! Though make sure to let him know I'm no pillbug (ha), just a roach who doesn't mind being company.

Is Kiawah Island some kind of resort? The term 'ocean course' makes me think of golf and boardwalks aren't exactly an unfamiliar concept around the city, but it also sounds like you're not from one of the big cities. It sounds like a cool place, getting to know more than just a few people who live around you, but I gotta say, I've got this phobia of golf courses! Maybe it's ancestral, but fields of turf green that used to get swept up under gigantic blades on repeat don't give me any good feelings, and the space between everything must make staying on the outer internet hard, hm?

Oh, and good luck if your wings are coming in soon, yeah? I know I still like being on the ground most of the time, and it's NOT fun to learn working entire new body parts. Not to mention I only had to do that at six years-- if you're old enough to be working computers, well... take your time with it, yeah?

Anyway, sorry to get extremely long-winded and rambly. Thank you for replying, Jazzmon, 'cus I know that it isn't an easy task.

- I Will Reply

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From a square-inch window, no brighter than as dim as the world could get, no slower than the fastest it could go, Cent watched the metal sealed cup of sloshing, heated mocha tumble down the caffeine dispenser's inner contours until it toppled right-side-up on the face of the bottom slot and clattered to a halt. It was her cup and weighed almost as much empty as it did full, but there was still a relieving sensation, heaving it in her upper legs and downing the sweet, chocolatey contents. She hated being reduced to such a pitiable state, gulping down something just because it tasted good, but every hiccup of espresso and cocoa was helping her lifeline along. She wasn't yet sure if it was fitting to reward the basic act of living by double-dosing on caffeine, but it was certainly what she was doing at present.

She needed a moment to rest. She leaned against the dispenser, gently curling her head back along the plastic-etched exterior. The thick viscous mixture was already a bit unpleasant on the throat, like mud.

The hallway shuddered with her body-- somebody had snuck up. From Cent's left, the centipede who lived in the building approached with a silent, forceful, loud demeanor, and jutted in, nearly pushing the roach aside as she banged at the dispenser. "Well, looks like it's time to just get the dang thing open!"

Cent sidestepped and nearly fell back against a wall, staring blankly at the centipede. "...yeah?" she murmured.

"Indeed! Who-r'ever's supposed to fill it has been out how many days? Still no tea. Come on, help me dislodge it from the wall and get some tisane before I start dying!"

"You can take my, uhm--" Cent waggled the sealed metal cup over, offering the mocha.

Trisk, the centipede, huffed out dismissively. "No, you need not. You were clearly waiting for the refill like me. This is a two'r-bug job, I have done it before, so simply help me, will you?"

She felt a tingle in the back of her throat as caffeine itched, but Cent couldn't find the will to refuse. She stepped back over, following the centipede's motions to stand in front of it, so as to help lower it down when she forced it away from the wall, in a sudden, heaving burst. Cent barely caught it, lowering herself to the ground and shakily using her legs to bring the front face of the caffeine dispenser onto the boarded floor.

She let out a weak exhale. "...You couldn't have gotten help from your partner?" the roach asked.

"No, no, of course not. Folks would get upset if it were a couple vandalizing their fountain of youth." The centipede snickered. "It's easier if it's two acquaintances." She brought her many spindly legs across the back of the machine, beginning to pull open tiny hinges and wrangle out pins.

"Are we just acquaintances?" Cent asked, hesitant.

The centipede nodded her head, antennae flaring. "Of course. Well, perhaps you're less acquaintance to me. You spend very little time talking, yet you know everything about who'r I am!" More cackling.

With that, Cent gently exhaled and took another long, drawn-out drink of mocha, swallowing it down and trying not to let it stick. "...so when is she coming back to fill it up?"

"Who knows? Supposed to be back plenty earlier than she's back right now. They're draining us dry, roach, so you might want to'r take some other kinds of lifeblood for yourself."

The roach stepped over, shaking a little, as Trisk brought one of the back panels open, revealing a glass container below the main heating element, containing a few doses' worth of looseleaf. Her eyes narrowed a little, and she glanced up, staring at the outer exit-- the one leading to one of many flight platforms for that flightless mantis. "She'll come sometime soon."

Trisk slammed the panel back down once she'd retrieved the glass container, cackling again. "What, Cent, are you going to look for her?"

With the sealed metal cup held between her upper legs, Cent could feel exceptionally safe from the outside world.

But a lack of sickness meant she would never build an immunity.