So, like I said in my last post, Duckies is back. He's hollowed no more! Something we can do, but don't like to advertise, is that we are 100% capable of waking hollows up out of their stupor. Just like whisper can hollow them, he can unhollow people. Although its notably easier to hollow someone than it is to unhollow them.
Its why we don't like to do it. See... its has pretty hefty consequences. Let me show you what I'm talking about. We'll put ducking on the computer a moment and instruct him to type out, cheeseburger.
^And that is the result
Let me elaborate on what that is. Every time we tell Duckie to spell cheeseburger on the computer, he would type a handful of letters and then suddenly lose interest and start looking around the room. Then when we told him to do it again, he would start again and suddenly lose interest. And he did it several times.
We know he remembers doing it one or more of the other times because towards the end he got pissed and just slammed his fist into the keyboard and called it good like the classy son of a bitch he is.
Devil, being Duckie's sister, has not been taking this well. Apparently seeing him as a hollow wandering around with no memory was painful for her. I can only imagine how painful it is now to see him wandering around aimlessly as a near functional reminder of what shes lost.
So Duckie can't hold a thought longer then a few seconds at a time... more or less.
Interestingly enough though, hes still a very proficient killer. I think that's all instinct and muscle memory. He was very good at what he did before he bit the bullet and went all empty.
If I just point at something and tell him to kill it, he'll fucking gut them and rip them apart without any kind of hesitation. I had whisper wire him so he'll only listen to me.
This created an unanticipated consequence where he can't hear what anyone else is saying. Just me. He can hear sounds and shit as far as we can tell, just not people talking. He was always so literal...
We've also noticed an interesting phenomenon where Duckie will suddenly start crying at seemly random if you haven't interacted with him for more than like, a half an hour. And if you interact with him in anyway, waving or talking or something despite being unable to hear you, he'll suddenly stop. If you ask him why he was crying, he'll tell you:
If you instead ask him what he feels he'll tell you:
"Cold... the fire is gone... everyone is gone..."
We're not sure what happens if you leave him alone longer than that. We can't get Jack to leave his side longer than that. Hes way up Duckies ass over the, 'Duckie saved my life thing'. They hold hands when they sleep. Its cute or something... or something.
One of the more interesting things to do is watch Duckie try to read. He really liked to read in life. Its something he can't quite seem to figure out in rebirth.
He'll read the first sentence and then stop, make a face, look at the cover of the book, and then read the first sentence. And he'll do that over and over again.
Apparently progress eventually gets made because I know hes spent all week getting three pages into his little book. I tried reading to him for a while but about five minutes in, after intense listening, Duckie would suddenly ask me:
"Oh hey, what are you reading?"
And then I would get frustrated and stomp out of the room, prompting Duckie to try to read the book I left behind by himself.
Its really quite pitiful.
Honestly not sure what caused this condition. It could have been the hollowing and unhollowing or it could have been the aneurysms being around Father gave him.
It is significantly less problematic than when we tried to unhollow the original Firecracker, the one Picasso got her title from.
She couldn't figure out how to use door handles... or walk... or eat... and had to be told to breath every two seconds...
We put her back to sleep, the poor creature. Its funny that she knew how to use door nobs when she was hollowed the first time but can't now after she was woken up and re-hollowed. Very peculiar.
Lets end this with a word from Duckie himself. Dictated but not read, of course.
"Sup, Ugly Fuck."
He turned to face me and gave me a vacant stare for a full minute before slugging me hard in the arm.
"Ow. Fuck. Still!?"
"And of course you remember that too."
"Its your name."
"My name is Fracture."
"Its Fuck Face. That's why everyone calls you Fuck Face, Fuck Face."
I just stood there for a full minute and stared him down as he stared back.
"Oh, hey Fracture. Where did you come from? Did you need something."
I sighed. Hes such a fucking asshole. "Hey Duckie. I just wanted to check up on you. How are you feeling?"
I watched him throw his weight back and the suddenly throw it forwards as he slammed his fist hard into my face.
To which I fell hard on my ass and rolled around nursing my nose until I could recompose myself and stand, where upon I snapped my nose back into place, which fucking hurt, and applied pressure in hopes that it might stop bleeding. "Care to try that again with fucking words this time?!"
"Try what again?"
"How are you feeling shithead?!"
"Oh. I can't complain... cold... still..."
"Wheres the fire gone?"
"... I.... lost it...?"
"How does that work?"
"I don't know... so lost... nothing to guide me..."
"Wh-" I didn't get to finish that thought before he slugged me in the shoulder again.
"Why do you keep doing that?"
"Fucking punching me."
"... How I greet you... something wrong with your memory?"
I swear to god it feels like hes faking it sometimes. "No, my memory is fine."
"If you say so. Sure sign of Father's love... lost memories..."
"How did you feel when you found out Father hated you."
"... Angry" he hissed. He gave me a glare I hadn't seen in a while. His truly terrifying death glare. Feels like hes looking through you. Like hes staring down something behind you and is ready to rip through you to get at whatever you've made the mistake of being in the way of. Gut wrenching shit.
"Was he worth dying over?"
He grinned and with a very confident and triumphant tone he said, "Yes."
"Would you do it again?"
"In a heartbeat."
"... I wish I had read more... and skinned Elaine slowly... when I had the chance."
"Why did you hate Elaine so much?"
"She was a whoring, self righteous, overbearing, hypocrite, with no defined purpose in life beyond escaping her own ill defined self induced torment slowing dragging down everyone around her to her own level."
"Confident words about a person you've never met."
"I can read," he hissed back at me.
"What makes you so much better than her?"
"I have purpose."
"What fucking purpose could you possibly have?"
"I will be immortal. My rage will out live me, burning on through the lives of all those whose livelihoods I set fire to and ruined. So to will it burn on through the lives they in turn ruin. The fire will guide them and they will burn with glorious light and ignite all those around them. My legacy will echo out endlessly through the ages and my Wrath will be E...."
He suddenly stopped and looked around confused. "Uh, your wrath will be...?"
"My Wrath is a Duck," he said with no small amount of inconfidence. I could see him trying to make sense of his surroundings. Like everything was suddenly wrong after his particularly long bout of coherent thought... if you can call that thought process coherent.
"I said I'm Duckie."
"Sure you did."
He growled in frustration and then socked me hard in the arm. "Don't fuck with me Fuck Face, my Wrath is Eternal."
I winced again. "I fucking know. You keep fucking telling me."
"Well good," he huffed, wandering off, "Don't you forget it."
"Fuck you, you stupid piece of shit... I'm not about to suddenly forget you. Quit giving me shit to remember and hate you by."
But of course, by the time I finished that thought he was already gone. Which was just as well. There's no point in wasting your sentiment on someone who won't be able to fucking remember it.
The Lord Guardian Fracture out.