Ex Lacrima Remnant

Track #52 – Symmetric in Design

Lacrima sat alone in the greenhouse, still donning her prisoner uniform, with her platform shoes on. She didn’t need to photosynthesize. She didn’t need nourishment.

She just needed

Quiet.

Peace.

To put her thoughts in place. To understand how her own mind ticked. To grasp the reason why she felt a rush of anger when Primula stepped by her cell, telling her that she was going to give her lymph to Mimi, as a price for Mal’s life. From a logical standpoint, it made perfect sense. Primula was a rhizome. Mimi was a lymph junkie, one desperately craving for body warmth. Lymph and sharing a bed were the only two things of value that Primula could offer her in a fair trade. Mimi had no reasons to decline the offer. It was a by-the-book equivalent trade.

Then, why?

Why did that hurt so much?

Lacrima crossed her legs, closed her eye, caressed the feathers of her necklace. Mimi drank her lymph and gave her her water in return. She saved her from phytomorphosis, so Lacrima indulged in a more intimate dance as a payment. Something for something. Equivalent value. Mimi was starved for physical contact. Lacrima gave her exactly that. Yet, the moment they shared together felt somehow more than the sum of its parts, for reasons she couldn’t point out. She scratched her eyepatch, right over her empty socket. Her flower was gone. That brutal pruning Lily subjected her too… still made her feel violated. Lily was better than her under every point of view. Taller. Faster. Deadlier.

But Mimi… Mimi didn’t seem inclined to give Lily a chance. Despite her being the clearly superior specimen, Mimi stuck with Lacrima. Not with Lily. That was confusing. Mimi had no logical reasons to choose a fraud over her better sister. But, against all the odds, that’s exactly what she did.

Maybe, that was the reason why her behavior with Primula awakened her resentment. Primula was nothing special, even compared to a faulty prototype like her. Yet, she was given a chance to drink Mimi’s water, to meld with her. A transaction. A simple transaction. Just that. If Felce, Agave, Oleander, if any of them offered Mimi her lymph, she would have surely accepted it too – it would have been stupid for her not to. And Mimi wasn’t stupid. She was impulsive and broken, but not stupid. Rash and deranged, but not stupid. Decisive yet gentle, but not stupid. Passionate and insecure, but not stupid. Huggable and kissable, but not stupid. Sweet-tasting and tender, but not stupid. Smooth-skinned and delicate when licked, but not stupid.

Lacrima stopped.

Her lymph production was accelerating.

Badly.

And, when her mind went back to the cot they shared.

To their tangled bodies.

It accelerated even more.

Being called ‘her house plant’.

Her concern, her sincere apologies for Dobrio feeding her chicken meat.

Being called Laccy.

Her rage after Lily hurt her.

Lacrima felt her lymph production rising to previously unthinkable levels. She swallowed a lump of saliva, her hand went to check her chest. Her heart was beating faster than it had any reason to. And, under her eyepatch.

Her lymph.

Was already leaking.

Down her cheek.

She groaned, wiped the dripping green fluid away.

“Oh, great. Just great. Thanks, Father.”

She redirected the flow to her vine arms, using it to restore it a little. Her body was still such a mess of barely patched bones that she had no way to rebuild even the thought of a sword. That was lucky, in a way, since she had an avenue to redirect the absolutely massive excess of lymph those last two minutes of contemplation had generated. Did the same happen to Prim, after sharing her body with Mimi? Or was Mimi nothing more than a transaction to her?

More importantly.

What was Lacrima to Mimi?

That question chilled her heartbeat, her breath, zeroed her overproduction.

“What if…”

Was she a replaceable part of her life? A toy to be used once and thrown away when a new, shining one appeared? What did it mean for her to be Mimi’s ‘house plant’? Humans didn’t really consider plants as living beings, even if they were. Humans even put pets above them, in the hierarchy. So, the fact that she was called a ‘house plant’…

“Oh, there you are. That dumb himbo was right on his money. Guess I’ll give him an abs massage, later.”

Lacrima turned around, gasped for air. Someone had entered the room. A woman with red, braided hair, empty blue eyes, slowly walking barefoot, trying to find her bearing, while still wearing a prisoner outfit. Lacrima fell silent, didn’t say a word, kept her breaths under control. But not enough. Mimi was still walking towards her, almost as if she could see her. Almost as if she was aware of her presence. Closer. Closer. Closer. Till she stopped, tapped her foot on the dirt. Only to sit down, directly in front of her, her dull irises staring right into the void, probably seeing only splotches of color. Lacrima almost stopped breathing, tried to calm down her heartbeat. Of all the moments. Of all the people. Her. Now.

“I’m sorry, Laccy. I’m… an idiot.”

Lacrima blinked, bit her lip. That was not what she was expecting Mimi to say. Not as the first thing after getting to meet her alone. Still, she didn’t reply. Let her continue. Somehow, she felt a little warmth inside. A sign that she had to let her talk.

“I’m an idiot junkie, I can’t resist the lure of fresh lymph... or of a naked gal rubbing her boobs against mine. My body simply… stops listening to me. It does what it wants. It’s… scary. Not being in control is scary. It’s like… it’s like my brain knows what’s wrong and what’s right, but that part shuts down as soon as… something excites me. This is…”

Trembling.

Mimi was.

Trembling.

Shaking.

“…this is inexcusable. What I did with Prim… and with Robin in the vat…”

“Wait, Robin too?!”

Lacrima sealed her mouth after that impromptu outburst. Too late. She didn’t want to say that out loud. She didn’t want to talk yet. But that. That confession. Caused her brakes to fail. Mimi chuckled, her hand reached for Lacrima’s head after a couple failed attempts, patted her hair.

“Heck no! She tried. Well, not she, the other elf gal that took over her mind. That friend of hers had a thing for robots, loved being railed by them too. So, Robin kinda roleplayed that, but I kicked her away. She didn’t drink my water, but she did taste my foot in her stomach. And, even if she stole a kiss from me – that bastard – it wasn’t hot at all: no, that felt hella creepy. Massive levels of creepy! That’s been creepy for her too, I bet. Imagine – being hijacked by the arousal of the dead. Lagash take me, that’s the worst porn plot I’ve ever heard of. That was all shades of uncomfortable, real freak material.”

Lacrima heard her own heartbeat slowing down. Mimi’s awkwardness somehow made her feel better. Still, her core was burning. Not anger. Not resentment. More like. Disappointment? But at whom? At herself or at the blind woman sitting in front of her, wearing a tired smile? She couldn’t decide it.

“Listen, Laccy. I know I’m a lymph slut. I know I’m not the… well, the well-behaved gal you’d hoped me to be… but, but I wanted to show you something. Can you, like, come with me? Just for a minute? We’ve got some time to kill, before we know whether… uh, the audio thing-y worked for your sisters, and…”

Laccy. Every single time she heard that nickname, she felt a little warmth spreading around her body. Every. Single. Time. Still, that wasn’t enough. That wasn’t enough to trust that massive disaster of a human being that couldn’t even keep her basic instincts under control. But, she figured, dedicating a minute of her life to that mass of tangled idiosyncrasies didn’t cost her much. If anything, it could have been the final nail in the coffin. The one that broke her stalling. That broke her indecision.

Did she still want to be Mimi’s ‘house plant’? What was the point, if every time that woman drank lymph from another rhizome she felt like trash? Listening, though, was cheap. Answering, even cheaper.

“Sure, but what for? What is my gain?”

“I’m not gonna spoil the surprise.”

Mimi grabbed Lacrima’s human hand, helped her stand up. Then, started walking through the corridors, out of the greenhouse, back to the metal and neons that made the belly of Atropos. Her steps were slow, methodical, while she slid her fingers on the walls, clicked her tongue to find her path with echolocation. Lacrima followed her in silence, without saying a word. Even after getting permission to roam around the station, she didn’t explore it at all. Her cell. The greenhouse. The mess hall. That was enough for her. A small world for a bonsai plant. She didn’t need more. That was the microcosmos that made her routine.

Mimi slapped her own forehead, broke the spell, started to talk again.

“Oh, yeah, before we get there: I’ve cleared my task for the old geezer, this morning. Burst all them parasites from his soldiers! Pop! Pop! Pop! Now, they’re resting in the medbay. Piece of cake, after Dobrio adjusted my wires, waaay easier than with that crybaby Mal. Which means, we’re free now. He gave us his word.”

“Does his word have any value?”

“Better have, or I’ll explode his head.”

Suddenly, Mimi stopped. Her hand tapped a sign, read the braille.

“It’s here.”

She pushed the opening valve, let the doors slide open. Slowly, she crossed the threshold, one step at a time. Lacrima squinted her eye, reading the label.

“The biolab? Why are you…”

“See, I was here last night to kick Rob’s wet ass and get the info I wanted from her. But, hey, they were all sleeping, so I didn’t even realize that they were there, till the old geezer mentioned it…”

“What?”

Mimi brought her index finger in front of her lips.

“Hush. Listen. Leave it to your ears, Laccy.”

Lacrima focused on the environment around her, as she was asked to, not knowing what to wait for.

Till she heard it.

Chirp. Chirp. Chirp. A buzzing noise. Chirp. Chirp.

Her heart raced. Her eye wide open.

She turned around.

Chirp. Buzzing. Chirp.

There was a cage.

A cage in the corner of the empty lab.

Chirp. Chirp. Buzzing. Buzzing. Chirp.

Two meters times two times two, or something around that, finely perforated mesh surrounding it on two sides, on the top, the room wall on the other two. And, inside it…

“W… wait…”

She ran to the cage, pressed her hands on it, pushed her forehead against the metal.

Chirp. Buzzing. Buzzing. Chirp.

In front of her incredulous eye, a concerto ensued. A concerto of small, colorful performers with long beaks. Flying around. Flapping their wings thousands of times per minute.

They were…

“Hummingbirds?! They’re… oh Lagash, they really, really are hummingbirds! Five! No, no, wait! Six! Six of them!”

Lacrima could cry.

Was crying.

Leaking water out of her human eye.

Hummingbirds. Of all colors. Of all shapes.

Flying around. Drinking water. Pecking synthetic flowers to suck nutrients. All young. Less than one year old. All beautifully zooming around, filling the lab with the noise of their wings, with their chirps. Lacrima almost fell on her knees.

“F… four females and two males! Of four different subspecies! L… look! Look at the shape of their beaks! There are… there are so many small variations! And the colors! Their feathers are so slick! That one! That one over there! See, that’s from Shuraya! It’s a new variety that was discovered ten years ago on the second biggest island of the archipelago by the Magnusson expedition! It has a very unique blue and yellow pattern on its wings, one that no other known species shares! And… and… those… those are eggs! So many eggs! So small! Four, eight… twelve? There are twelve eggs? But the shapes and colors are slightly different. Are they… are they interspecies? What colors will they be born with? What beak shape? What wing span?”

Lacrima kept talking, squeeing in delight, enumerating facts, figures, trivia about every single minute aspect of the minuscule birds. Mimi stood behind her, wearing, for once, a genuine smile. It was endearing. Hearing Laccy being happy was endearing. Rhizomes were so reserved, so collected when it came to showing their feelings. But, that time, Lacrima was dashing, radiating joy from every pore of her being. The only pity was not being able to see her – just to listen to her excited voice. Laccy. Hummingbirds. A match made in heaven. Just one among the five or so animal species stashed in the two labs of Atropos, chosen because of their short lifespan, which made reproduction faster. Yet another vanity experiment to give meaning to that colossal waste of public resources shaped like a space station – studying the adaptability of hummingbirds in space. For once, though, it felt good to have had a stroke of luck. Suddenly, she felt her hand pulled with strength, almost causing her to lose her balance.

“Look! Mimi, look! I was wrong! That one there, the one I thought was a Magnussen variety, must have been born here after – I don’t know – five? Six generations? Its patterns are all scrambled, and there’s some traits I’ve never seen in any other species! Is it a hybrid? What do you think? That huge red mark under its beak is so beautiful! I’ve never seen one like that before! Aaaaah! This is… this is a dream! I’ve never had so many… so many of them together so close to me! I… Mimi! Please, look! Look at it! Tell me! Tell me what’s your favorite! Maybe it’s the colors? Or… or the beak shape? Is there any you like? They are all… they are all so beautiful. Aaaaah…”

“Laccy, I…”

Mimi shook her head. Yes, that’s when her usual karma came back to bite her. Laccy was having the time of her life. She wanted to share it with her. Share her excitement. Share her happiness. But Mimi.

Mimi was defective.

Mimi couldn’t use the only sense she needed at that time.

That.

Made her crash.

“…I can’t see. I can’t see them. They are… just moving blots of color for me. Sorry, I wish I could, but…”

Lacrima fell silent. Bit her lip. Blinked once. Twice. Right. Mimi was blind. In her excitement, she forgot about that simple fact. So, telling her about all those colors, about all the shapes… was equivalent to Dobrio shoving roasted chicken into Lacrima’s open mouth. An act of kindness with terrible consequences. Yet, Mimi didn’t seem upset or angered. Just… sad. Resigned, maybe. With something of a spark left in her sightless eyes.

“…but… Laccy… if it made you happy… if it can… be a way to tell you ‘I’m sorry’, well, huh, it’s enough.”

Mimi let herself fall on the floor, sat down in front of the cage.

“Dobrio and I… we’re both idiots. Junkies. Nuts-for-brains. We were always there for each other – and screw the rest of the world! We’ve caused so much trouble together, we’ve got so many stories to tell. One even involves an alpaca – and you don’t want to hear that, yes? That’s all to say that we ain’t saints or anything. I’m not even sure we deserve to be trusted at all. But, you know what? I’ve never met a jealous rhizome. Never. All rhizomes I sucked lymph from were very – let’s say – matter-of-fact. Pay eas, suck lymph. Over. But, see, you and Prim are… different. Or, maybe, the ones I met before just got jaded, like prostitutes, you know? Giving out your lymph becomes a mechanical exchange, a means to an end. No feelings attached. Just the act of having your release triggered and stop. I thought it was the same with you.”

“What changed your mind, then?”

“Something you said to Rob, back in Aralu. It sounded like, huh, because I’m their house plant.”

Lacrima sat down too, facing Mimi, trying to meet her aimless eyes.

“That… was enough?”

“Listen, Laccy… no rhizome – and I mean it – would have risked her life for me for such a stupid reason. You said you couldn’t find another Mimi, but that’s bull, right? There’s plenty a junky that would welcome you with open arms. The fact that you stuck with me in that moment made me realize that… rhizomes can grow attached too. That it ain’t just a fact of something for something. And Prim… somehow confirmed it. She said you were bothered. Heck, she said she’d bothered if someone else drunk Mal’s water. You gals… are more emotional than the bozos-in-chief believe. Well, you’re still ‘different’, but… yeah. That’s when I understood that the moments we shared together weren’t just… ‘another transaction’ to you. I… thought they were. I thought you… wouldn’t mind. Lymph for water. Water for lymph. Aaaand pleasure for both. Simple as that. That was our contract. But…”

Mimi felt warmth around her body.

Lacrima.

Was hugging her.

And sobbing.

“It… it was like that! Really! Just… just a simple… transaction! You saved me from turning into a monster and… and I gave you my excess lymph back! Let you… suck me dry! That was… that was completely normal! But… but when I heard that you and Prim… were going to… to exchange fluids, I crashed.”

Lacrima heaved a sigh, tried to calm down a little. In vain.

“I was scared you’d replace me. I’ve been already… replaced once. And… and it hurt. B… but this time, it hurt… more. Mimi, when you called me your ‘house plant’… you… you gave me more than your water. You… you made me feel… special. I was… enough for someone… for the first time! You cared for me. You called me a nickname! You even scolded Dobrio for feeding me chicken! And that… that was a relief. It felt like… for the first time, someone… someone cared about me for what I was and not for what they wanted me to be. So, when Prim… when Prim told me about her bargain with you, I… I feared that… that I was going to be… to be replaced again. And… and…”

Lacrima’s breathes became ragged, water leaked out of her eye. Her voice broken, her words mangled. Mimi returned the hug, caressed her cheek, wiped away the tears. Then, she whispered, close to her ear.

“Nah, you dunce! Okay, yes, Prim’s smoking hot and makes me weak in the knees. I’d fuck her twice a day, if I could… but she can’t be my house plant, like, at all”

“…why?”

“First, she’s too sugar-sweet. Diabetic levels, I mean. All righteous and all that jazz. Second, she’s a disaster in bed when she tries to take the lead. You can’t even imagine. Aaand third? I hate bunnies.”

“…you hate bunnies?”

“I only like them roasted with potatoes.”

“I like them raw, even if I don’t need their nutrients. But catching them with my teeth like a prowling hawk… feels nice.”

Mimi wheezed, rubbed her cheek against Lacrima’s, pushed her forehead against hers.

“…you plant gals are so weird...”

Then, squeezed her in her arms, keeping her tears at bay.

“…but, hey, that’s my kind of weird.”