"This fucking thing..." Simon mumbles, pushing the wheel on his wheelchair with his one hand. He moves forward, but ends up turning slightly. Grumbling, he swaps sides with his hand, and turns the other wheel. His direction corrects...for a moment, until he turns too far the other direction.
Getting angry, Simon grits his teeth, glaring ahead with his eyes. He's in the clinic, alone. Dr Iplier gave him the chair to get around easier until his leg heals, along with...everything else wrong with him. It hurts too much to even stand, so he was grateful.
Until he realized how difficult it is to steer the thing with one arm. So far, Simon has been pushed around by Iplier and Host (and once by Wilford, against Simon's cries of protest), but he's been struggling to get himself around.
Iplier said it will just take time and practice, but Simon doesn't want it to take time. He's been out of the "intensive" side of his healing for a few days, but he still has needed a lot of help.
And resources.
Simon sees how much Iplier does for him, how he's helped him around, helped him eat, helped him with medicine and his bandages and, well...everything.
It's too much. They would never use this many resources on someone on Eden, or in the C.O.I. If someone was too weak or sick to function, let alone walk, they'd be repurposed. With the C.O.I, Simon saw people with disabilities working, but they were at least healthy and could get around themselves and not need extra resources.
On Eden...no resource could be spared or wasted on those who couldn't do their duties. Simon was a butcher. A solider. If Eden saw him in this pathetic state...he'd be given to the tree without hesitation. And the only way the C.O.I would keep him is if he was useful. But if he couldn't walk, if he was too weak to even stay awake an entire day...if he couldn't lift or fix things...
They wouldn't waste even a single ration bar on a useless convict. It wasn't like he was good with tech either. Simon was good at mapping. At fixing machinery. At...processing the last tree's sacrifices.
All things he can't do in this pathetic state. So if he was useless to Eden, and to the C.O.I...why would he be seen as useful to these clones of his? To Dark? How long until they see he serves no purpose? That he's taking up too much of their medicine? Their resources?
Simon doesn't want to lose this place. He needs to be useful. He needs to fix himself, to heal faster, to make their efforts to save him worthwhile. He won't accept less of himself.
So, Simon shakes his head, and goes back to moving his hand back and forth between each wheel on his chair. He's too weak to walk or do anything physical, but if he can get himself around by himself, that's a start. If they see he makes fast progress, they'll be impressed and hopefully keep him around. He knows Dark said he can stay here...but surely there was a caveat. Surely he must find a purpose here to earn a permanent place. And he can start with figuring out how to go in a straight fucking line-
"Simon? Can I come in-"
"Shit!"
Simon hisses in surprise as Iplier's voice yanks him out of his deep thoughts. He loses grip on the wheel, and ends up slamming back into a shelf behind him. He winces, several glass items falling and breaking beside him on the floor, shattering below his feet.
"O-oh dear, Simon, are you alright-"
"I-I'm sorry!!!" Simon screams, Iplier stopping before him. Simon squeezes his eyes shut, breathing heavy.
"Hey, it was an accident, you're still getting used to-"
"I-I'll clean it! I'll clean it, I swear!" Simon yells, cutting Iplier off. Simon looks down at the floor, his eyes burning. He feels on edge, a familiar dark feeling of suspense he knew all too well on both Eden and the C.O.I. He groans, and knows it would be better to just get things over with instead of dragging it out.
He holds out his arm, wrist up towards Iplier. Simon closes his eyes, doing his best to keep his arm from shaking.
"I-I'll accept any punishment, a-and then I'll clean everything up, I swear-"
"Simon, stop!"
Simon flinches, feeling Iplier grab his wrist. But...pain doesn't come. No lashing, no punishment. Instead, he feels Iplier hold his hand gently, the warmth of his hand...comforting. Simon cracks his eyes open, and sees Iplier before him, looking thoroughly worried.
"No one is going to punish you! This was an accident! And I do NOT want you cleaning up broken glass in your state! I'll get a broom and clean it, you don't have to do anything-"
"BUT I DO!!!" Simon yells, eyes pleading as he looks up at Iplier. He feels Iplier hold his hand tighter. "I-I have used too many of your resources already! Now I broke more! I need-...I need to be punished, a-and I won't resist! I'll do whatever you need, whatever it takes to-"
"Enough!!!"
Iplier yells, but his voice isn't stern or sharp. It's...worried. Simon breathes heavy, and looks back down to the floor in shame.
"Simon, listen to me...I know where you came from wasn't pleasant, but we don't do things that way here...this was a simple accident, do you know how many things I've broken in this place?!" Iplier says with a laugh. "It happens! And god, NO ONE is going to punish or hurt you!"
"B-but...I need-...I need to-"
"Need to what, Simon?"
Simon swallows a lump in his throat. "I need to be useful...s-so I can stay here..." He says, his fight seeping out of him. He closes his eyes, accepting whatever fate comes his way now. "I just...I w-want to stay...I'll do anything-"
"You have done all you need, Simon."
"W-what did I do?!" Simon cries, looking up at Iplier with tearful eyes. Iplier smiles a warm smile at him, a familiar one of understanding and comfort.
"You arrived here. You exist. That's enough, Simon." Iplier says, his voice soft as he holds Simon's hand gently. Simon stares at him with wide eyes, words no longer coming to him. Iplier gives a small laugh, and lets go of Simon's hand. "Come on, let's get you away from the glass. I'll sweep it up, get you some water, and then I can help you with navigating the wheelchair better. Sound good?" He says, Simon's mind still in shock.
He nods, no longer able to find the words to speak.
Iplier helps him move away, and Simon grips the hem of his shirt with his hand, watching Iplier quickly sweep it up. It takes him only seconds to do, and he then grabs a water bottle, handing it to Simon with a smile on his face.
Simon looks down at it. A bottle of this much water was a luxury on Eden. And yet here...things are different. Water is everywhere, so common it's used to wash things casually. His pain medicine never runs out, Iplier always has clean bandages. And...Simon doesn't need to be punished here...
He doesn't understand this strange place...he hopes one day he will.
So I can actually get through these pretty quickly
The Host and Dr. Iplire
Yap time :33
The host: There's not much I did for these two, I wanted to have the clothes the authors wears under his coat, he also got hit with the thin but can't see because damn those layers, because you can't tell me authors take perfect care of themselves, no I won't believe it. And I wanted him to be mostly legs, I didn't do a very good job mostly because I forget but he got legs for days
Dr. Iplire: nothing really fancy here, I want him to be on the shorter side of everyone and a bit more square, because in markiplier tv he talked about being very handsome and I think people think squares are an attractive shape, idk I failed geometry
any recommendations on who to next is always welcomed
That there is! (There's also a livestream I'm listening to while writing this, where Mark is most definitely not just talking about his liver.)
"Hello, everybody. Think happy thoughts. My name is Markiplier and welcome back to 3 Scary Games. Don't be nervous. I'm only doing this for you. A better you. Close your eyes and remember."
Remember what? I don't know about you, but I'm not about to close my eyes around this guy who reminds me of...someone.
Just not entirely sure who.
Thoughts?
Let's all put our masks on and think some happy thoughts (Maskiplier)
