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Complete ♪ maxwell's silver hammer made sure that she was dead ♪

Justin L. McCay

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Tag: @Phosphophyllite.
Date: 19th Oct, Year 109.


Justin was sat by himself on a wooden bench, hunched over and humming cheerfully. It was a bright, happy song with funny, funny words that he’d heard on the radio earlier today. He’d heard it several times before on the radio, back when he’d been in good and BAD hospitals.

“Hmm, hmm, hmm,” he droned around the marble shaped and sized object in his mouth, which he was sucking on like a candy lollipop, though it was not a candy lollipop. It was not even food, though it tasted faintly, faintly of salt.

Justin shifted on the bench, pressing an arm to his stomach to nurse a sharp cramp. He wanted to eat, but had forgotten to bring any money. The rich, oily, fishy smells of restaurants and take-out joints taunted him. He would have to kill somebody, then BORROW off them. Cash. Not a card. He didn’t like cards.

“Hmm, hmm, hmm.” He’d got to the end of the bright, happy song in his head, but that didn’t mean it was time to stop. He rewound it like a tape right back to the start, humming with extra cheer as he watched the people pass his bench.

There were little to choose from at this time of day, the light fading in the sky. Light that LIED was beginning to wink on in windows, as well as along concrete pavements and wooden boardwalks, illuminating NOBODY’S way.

The air had grown chilly without the sun, his Polaroid camera like a giant ice cube dangling around his neck. The hem of his lightweight letterman jacket (HE WAS A COLLEGE STUDENT) bobbed in the wind, failing to protect him against the biting cold, but he didn’t mind, because he’d kill someone soon, then BORROW their money and eat in the snug warmth of a restaurant.

“Hmm, hmm, hmm,” he hummed pleasantly at the next person that passed his bench.
 
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Phos splayed their fingers across the glass window of a store, intrigued by the sight of all the clothes that were within it. There were clothes of all shapes and sizes and colors! Red, blue, green, purple; shirts, pants, dresses, gloves; there was even fur! And the people inside were interesting, too! Most were humans who shifted through racks looking for something, and there were even some that just stood reeaaaallly still in one place. What silly humans.

Cascade Bay was filled with such interesting things, like these sorts of stores! The city was unique and unlike anything Phos had seen before! The sort of things that they saw and heard was unlike anything both the moon and home had to offer. Magic that sparkled in the air; carts that rolled down streets on wheels and dragged by weird animals that neighed; lamps that glowed whenever the sun began to settle. Weird wooden things floated in the city's waters, their sails flapping whenever the wind blew particularly hard.

It all made it very difficult for Phos to pull themselves away from such curious things. A part of them just wanted to explore and see everything that the city had to offer. They wanted to see how "food" was made for humans to eat, and they wanted to sit and listen to more "music" that the humans played for one another. Wouldn't that be the dream? Alas, it was beginning to grow dark yet again, a signal that it was closing in on their bedtime.

They didn't really have a bedroom to return to in Cascade Bay. Ever since arriving in this odd place, Phos had taken to simply finding a comfortable patch of grass to rest their head in. Sometimes, if their weight could be beared, they slept in a tree. They had quite a walk ahead if they wanted to make it out of the city in time to find a suitable place to rest! As nice as it was, Phos couldn't quite bring themself to sleep in such a bustling area.

So with a disappointed little sigh, Phos peeled themself away from the glass. Fingers of gold tugged at the tie of their own shirt just so they could spare one last fleeting glance at the exotic store. Once it was over, they began with their arduous task of finding a place to sleep! There was some sunlight left in the sky, though with winter fast approaching, there was no telling how long it would be until Phos was left with only their eye for light.

The only time they paused in their stroll was when they heard the odd thrumming of a human. Hmm hmm hmm, they said and said as Phos began to walked by them on a bench. An odd coat clung to their shoulders, and an even odder thing hung from its neck. Phos only meant to offer a passing glance but when their eyes met, well, societal rules deemed that they smiled. After that, the odd human slipped from Phos's mind as they continued further down the rather small, rather secluded road leading out of Cascade Bay.

 
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A person walked past his bench, meeting his eyes and smiling at him. Usually, such a gesture would put Justin at ease, but the person’s strange appearance caused the nape of his neck to crawl. He could not tell whether they were a man or lady. There was something OFF about their skin, although it was difficult to identify WHAT in the failing light.

But what enraged and chilled him the most were the eyes. One was FAKE. A LIE.

The boy-girl continued on their way, Justin scowling at the space where they’d just smiled at him, the blue of his eyes as cold as a winter’s sky. Slowly, thoughtfully, he withdrew the marble shaped and sized object from his mouth, studying it on its piece of thread. It was the glass eye of the motel lady. He’d bashed in her skull, then prised the FAKE LYING eye out with his switchblade.*

He would love to tie another to his piece of string, then he could knock them together like horse chestnuts. They were bound to make a sound similar to chattering teeth!

Pocketing motel lady’s eye, he rose to his feet and hurried after the girl-boy, alternating between a brisk walk and casual jog. It was easy to keep track of them, because there were no other people to get in his way. No other people to hear the screams… See the vivid splash of blood…

He drew up an inch or two behind the boy-girl, loudly humming the silver hammer song.


* This happened in canon.
 
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Phos was largely unaware of the questions toiling in the human's mind. Boy? Girl? They had no concept of either. They weren't even aware that there were any such differences in humans aside from the fact that some had flesh-bags on their chests and some did not. Flesh was another anatomical body part that they were largely ignorant of, mostly due to their lack of it. Whereas humans and Admirabilis had flesh, they had polished rock. Then there was the matter of their eye - the one that the Lunarians had gifted them.

In the falling dusk, it glowed a pristine, white light. A beacon for trouble, so to say.

One thing to be certain, though, was that observative was not a word used to describe Phosphophyllite. Gullible, yes; hot-headed, sure; cautious, not particularly. They were oblivious to the human following quickly behind, lost mostly in a world of their own thoughts. The fact that they couldn't hear his quiet footsteps over their own loud thunking ones was of no help either.

The humming though, that caught their attention. When it didn't fail to disappear into the distance and followed through with them, Phos was aware enough to recognize that something was off. They skipped ahead a few steps before turning on their heel, facing the human that they had just passed moments before.

"Is something the matter?" They asked with a puzzled head of their tilt, golden hands clasping behind their back.

 
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The girl-boy turned to face him, their question failing to provoke a reply. Justin was too preoccupied with staring starry-eyed at the ODD EYE in their skull. It glowed in the dark. It GLOWED in the dark. Human eyes weren’t EVER supposed to GLOW.

One Christmas at the GOOD hospital, he’d received a bookmark, along with his customary orange and pair of socks. A sturdy cardboard bookmark. It’d had a cartoon dog on both sides, or maybe it’d been a cartoon cat. It didn’t really matter what cartoon animal. What mattered were the eyes of the dog, the cat, the animal. They had glowed in the dark.

Justin had spent many a night, lying on top of his bedsheets, just turning the bookmark over and over and OVER in his hands, watching two pairs of eyes glow in the dark. And when he had listened hard - very, very, VERY hard - he'd heard the Voice - TWO Voices - that belonged to the two pairs of glowing eyes whispering to him. They had told him that his sister’s death was HIS fault, that he should’ve killed his “maw” before she’d killed his sister, that he couldn’t afford to make the same mistake again, that he should kill ANYBODY who threatened to harm him, that he would know who was threatening him by the way they spoke or looked at him.

Silent as the contents of a casket, he stepped closer to the boy-girl, channelling all of his attention on that strange eye. Justin cocked his head as though in imitation of a magpie attracted by something bright and shiny. He HAD to get hold of that eye. He would spend many a night, lying on top of his bedsheets, turning the eye - the Eye - over and over and OVER in his hands.

Justin raised one hand now, pointing a crooked index finger at the Eye of the girl-boy.
 
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Phosphophyllite, oblivious as they sometimes were, could tell that something was wrong. The way the human acted was... wrong. Transfixed. Like the way the Jellyfish acted sometimes, following one thing and one thing only. The air was taut with tension much like a string threatening to snap. With their new head and their new eyes, they could recognize the dangerous thing now standing in front of them.

Something as dangerous as the Lunarians. As the Admirabilis. As the gems. Human. Faintly, in the back of their memories, the faint memory of warning played. A plea to just run as they always have done. Far from this human that radiated tense, nervous energy that drove them up a wall. No matter what sensible things they tried to tell themself, Phos couldn't escape a feeling of inevitable doom. Like the skies before the Lunarian's ships unfolded among the clouds and the air before a deadly rain of arrows flew.

Their answer remained unanswered... For a moment, they were sure that the human didn't hear them somehow, but that also seemed wrong. And it was because the human raised its fleshy hand and pointed a bony finger at their face. No - that wasn't right either, they were pointing at their eye. The one that glowed a brilliant white in the fading light and was the object of their transfixion.

Everything was screaming to run, but they were admittedly curious. Phos took another step backwards, head tilted to the side as they closed the eye in question. "What's so interesting about my eye?" They questioned, tense as a bow's arrow and ready to flee at a moment's notice. Hopefully.

 
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"It glows,” he responded simply. “Only animal eyes are supposed to glow. You aren’t an animal.”

Which made it wrong. BAD. Other parts of this person were also wrong, BAD. Their hair didn’t look real. Nor did their skin. Their arms or legs. ALL wrong. All BAD.

Back at the BAD hospital, there’d been a wire statue of a person in the yard. Justin had found it difficult - IMPOSSIBLE - to tell its gender as well. He’d stood in front of it many times a day, his scalp and the nape of his neck crawling with disgust as he’d studied the sculpture with its too large head, its too short body, its too long limbs. He hadn’t liked the gaps between wires especially, showing not blood, flesh or organs, but the yard behind. That wasn’t real.

That hadn’t been the worst part of the wire person, though. The worst part had been the MISSING part. There hadn’t been any EYES in that oversized squiggle of a head.

He’d tolerated its company in the yard, until the wind had picked up one day, screaming through the gaps in the wire like a ghost. It’d sounded like his SISTER’S scream when their “maw” had put the BUTCHER KNIFE in her head like a HAIRBRUSH. So he had grabbed a HAMMER from a negligent workman’s toolkit, banging and bashing at the statue until it had stopped screaming like his little sister at their BITCH of a “maw”.

Justin slipped a hand into the pocket of his coat, his fingers brushing icy metal. He sung to the wrong, not real, BAD person stood in front of him, his voice soft and quiet, each word enunciated clearly: “Bang. Bang. Maxwell’s silver hammer came down upon their head.

He tore a hammer out of his jacket, lunging forward to try to strike the not wire person. He’d smash the glowing Eye right out of its socket, making everything right - GOOD - again.
 
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Was that all? For a moment, Phos thought that there was an issue with their eye. They weren’t sure what the problem would be, considering that they were so perfectly sculpted. Good thing it turned out to be nothing! How silly of them to think that gemstone wouldn’t sparkle. Sure their perceived glow wasn’t as intense as a Diamond’s would be, but the pearl did emit a lot of light in the dark.

”My eye is supposed to glow! It’s a synthetic pearl, so it reflects any sort of light pretty easily,” there was an inclination to continue to explain beyond that. To dig into the science behind the reason why their eye sparkled in the dark even though Phos knew it would be lost on the odd human. It was a side-product of their head, one that belonged to a brother far smarter than them who would have gone into detail. But his love of knowledge and his habit to over-think had gotten them shattered, it was the reason why it was his head was sitting on their shoulders.

They thought it would be over at that, but then the human began to… do something. They were speaking in some way, though the words were… off? Weightless and beautiful to hear, despite their quiet voice. It had a beat to it, much like the sounds the Lunarians made when they banged on their drums. It was a distinctly human thing, Phos realized as they listened to the odd speech. A human thing that had been utterly lost to gems.

Unfortunately, Phosphophyllite didn’t notice the human’s hand in their jacket until they tore a hammer out from its depths. They stumbled backwards over their feet as gold alloy screeched. The metal screamed as it surged forwards in a futile attempt to wrap around the human’s arm.

In yet another mistake, they hadn’t anticipated the strength behind the blow. Humans were sturdier and stronger than Lunarians.

 
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The not real person touched him, the feel of something that wasn’t warm, that wasn’t soft, that wasn’t FLESH, making his scalp crawl. Justin was plunged back into that yard at the BAD hospital, peering up starry-eyed at the wire statue with its oversized squiggle of a head.

He found himself mixing up present with past. The wire statue had come alive and was attacking him, the wind shrieking shrilly through the spindly gaps in its misshapen body. In reality, it might’ve been the not real person before him. In memory, it was his sister as their “maw” attacked her head with a hairbrush. Not a hairbrush. A DISH RAG. No! A SPOON. A…

“Don’t scream! Don’t scream!” he screamed at the wire statue or maybe it was the not real person. “Don’t scream! Don’t scream! I don’t like it when you scream!”

He didn’t want the scream to propel him further back into the past, where a storm had raged inside and out of a small kitchen that'd always smelt funny, even before it’d been splattered in blood. Going back as far as the yard was the most he could handle of his past.

“Stop! Stop! Stop!” he chanted, swinging the hammer at the not real person. This time he did not target its glowing Eye or any other part of its unnatural body. He simply hoped that by hitting it over and over and OVER again that he would silence its screams, although he was growing increasingly unsure whether it was in fact producing sounds. It might’ve been the memory in his head of the wind shrieking shrilly through the spindly gaps in the wire statue’s body.

Either way, he was sure the screams would stop once he’d reduced the not real person to rocks.

Justin proceeded to dart around its unnatural body, making himself a harder target to strike or grab or CRUSH. He flung the hammer at its skull, its back, its chest, its arms, its legs, barely able to see ‘cos of the stinging substance - sweat NOT tears - blurring and distorting his vision.
 
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They were not screaming. They had shouted before, in fear or anger, but never a scream. Their natural response had always been to freeze in the face of danger. Even when they culminated courage and strength, their body stilled against their wishes as disaster unfolded. Only too late did they ever launch into action. Only as crystals rained down from the fingers of Lunarians, when their brothers tore him apart with blade and whip. They only froze. Even now, they were frozen in place.

The human screamed, but they could only open their mouth uselessly in the expression of shock. They stumbled backwards under the rain of blows, liquid gold chasing the hammer in a futile attempt to stop him. It wrapped tightly around his ankle and jerked as unrelenting metal came down upon gemstone. There was a sharp crack as their torso began to shatter. Alloy bled through green cracks that only glimmered in the fading light.

Their gold truly panicked as a new sense of urgency overwhelmed them. The alloy retracted away from the human as they stumbled away from him. Instead of attacking the human, it hastily formed a bubble to protect themself from further damage. "Just go away! Stop!" Phos shouted through their make-shift barrier as they fell back onto the ground. It only incited more disastrous cracks in their frail body, chips of their torso already beginning to fall away.

 
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At some point, the not real person had snagged hold of his ankle and jerked him to the ground. Justin's body still ached and smarted from his impact with the hard asphalt, but he did not let that hinder him. He carried on darting around its unnatural body, flinging that hammer at its skull, its back, its chest, its arms, its legs, glimpsing jagged cracks opening up in its not real skin.

Justin giggled and tittered shrilly, deaf to its protests. He had the not real person on the ground now, which would make it easier to wrench the glowing Eye out of its stone skull. His closeness to the glowing Eye helped him stay anchored in the present, the images of the wire statue in the yard and the storm in the kitchen reduced to shadows at the back of his mind.

This time he concentrated a more decisive blow at the not real person’s stone skull, but his hammer hit a barrier IN FRONT OF it instead. His hammer rebounded in his hand, hitting his fingers and cutting off his laugh, before dropping to the concrete with a solid CLINK.

Justin went still and silent, staring in wide-eyed starry fascination at the not real person. It had HURT him without doing anything, which only strengthened his resolve to pluck its glowing Eye from its stone skull and bash the rest of it into grit and rocks. Unnatural, not real, BAD person.

Face contorting into a mask of rage and fear and lunacy, Justin proceeded to snatch up the hammer and bang dementedly at its shield. It would HAVE to crumble eventually!
 
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Even after Phosphophyllite had dragged the human to the ground, their attacks did not deter. It wasn't a Lunarian, its body didn't vanish in whisps of smoke after the first blow. Their body was not so fragile that a single strike of the hammer broke them to bits, but each added one served to further crack them. They could only take so much before they wound up a pile of shattered jewels on the floor.

The laughter was the worst part of it.

It was so cruel, so unnatural. It reminded them of the smiles that the Lunarians would don as they rained down arrows, as they broke their siblings into pieces and fawned over them. It rang in the air, somehow worse than the hammer that they swung time and time again. Phos wanted nothing more than to stop that stupid laughter. And it did.

They couldn't see from within their barrier of gold, but they heard the hammer drop to the ground. There was stunned silence before it picked back up. Phos glanced down at themselves, and it was evident that they would not be able to walk properly in their condition.

Then... they could crawl. A spike formed out from the gold, lashing outwards to wrap itself around the wretch the human away from them. Meanwhile, the rest of the barrier melted back into their body, reforming a multitude of spider-like limbs. They had to hold themself up, shifting their weight on the alloy before beginning to scuttle away on their misshapen legs.

 
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A spike shot out of the not real person, targeting him. Could it drive itself through his flesh? Justin yipped in alarm, darting out of its wicked reach. Can’t HURT him! Can’t HURT him!

He crashed into a garbage can that must’ve DELIBERATELY been hiding behind his back, the pair of 'em pitching to the ground. The garbage can spewed out a collection of foul stinking fruit peels, sticky candy wrappers and bags of dog excrement. He barely noticed the unpleasant cacophony of smells, or the ache of his COCCYX, too transfixed on what was happening to the not real person.

Was he having a HALLUCINATION? Occasionally, he heard Voices or saw pictures - both static and moving - inside his head, but he’d never glimpsed any OUTSIDE until now.

The not real person had grown many, MANY legs, which were all arched and bendy like those of a spider. He didn’t make the mistake of comparing the legs to an insect’s ‘cos spiders were NOT insects. No, no, no. NOT insects. He’d read that in an encyclopaedia back at the GOOD hospital, which had been all about insects and arachnids. Weeks afterwards, the images of pleated cocoons and squiggly larvae had left him glimpsing them in his designated meals. He’d got very thin.

He lost his courage when the not real spider-person began to scuttle on its bowed limbs. Justin yelped and screamed as though somebody was trying to skin him, seizing hold of fistfuls of cold, squishy garbage and hurling it at the twisted creature that’d escaped the pages of the GOOD hospital's encyclopaedia. Shoes scraping against the asphalt, he scooted back from it on his butt.
 
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Their body splintered with each small movement, the cracks steadily turning into fissures. The gold that laced throughout the crystal could only do so much to keep them together. As small parts of themselves rained down in tiny jewels, Phosphophyllite could feel themselves grow weaker. How long until they finally fell apart? This time it was for no reason.

Right?

Was this human just like a Lunarian in disguise? No, that wasn't right. Lunarians were humans. Was there a point in time when Achmea was like this? Some fleshy, screaming thing that waved around a weapon just to shatter them? No, it wasn't pointless. Decorated with you, our world was beautiful. Was that why the human had attacked them?

Staring at the creature, surrounded by filth and red in the face with fright, Phos didn't know. Why was it scared? This whole time, it has been the sole aggressor. Yes, that's right. They have always been on the defensive while this human attacked them. Is that human nature? To destroy those who simply wanted to exist?

Kill or be killed. What was death? The more they stared at the human, the more confused they became. It coiled throughout them like a poison, seeping into every inclusion. They had to fight now or they'd be shattered, isn't that right? But would that be so bad? The human would smash them into tiny pieces, then they wouldn't have to put up with this odd, bewildering world.

Garbage was thrown at their face, yet they did nothing to retaliate. They could see the way the human's eyes watched their legs, watched the way that they were steadily falling apart. Why was the sight frightening now? Phos couldn't understand no matter how many times they tried to wrap their mind around the question. Why why why why why why? It was another question amongst countless when it came to these humans. Lunarians? But Gems were their bones, so what did that mean to them? If they looked hard enough, would they see something gem-like in this human's wide eyes?

The gold screeched in its metallic way as their many limbs began to move in a fragmented way. One arm then the other, each clawing at the ground to drag the useless weight that their body has been reduced to. The sooner they got away from their dilemma, the sooner they could think without the looming threat of danger.

 
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The spider creature was trying to crawl off into the dark. Anger and dismay rose up above the fear wailing in his system. He could not let it escape into the dark, otherwise it would come back when it had healed its chips and scratches and cracks. It would scuttle out of the shadow of a building or the branches of a tree and HURT him. Hurt him REAL BAD. He had to hurt it first.

With a face as rigid as steel, Justin forced himself up on to legs that were trembling with both terror and fury. He couldn’t see any sign of his hammer. Had he thrown it at the creature? Or had the creature STOLEN it from him? He would need another weapon to hurt the creature SO bad that it could NEVER crawl out of any branches or shadows and hurt him FIRST.

Justin grabbed the trash can and tipped the rest of the contents out on to the grimy asphalt. A wooden baseball bat clattered out among the piles of ragged candy wrappers and browning fruit peels. Joy shot through him. It warmed and illuminated the cold, dark places inside him like a beam of sunlight. A baseball bat was PERFECT. It was long enough that he wouldn’t have to venture too close to the spider creature to strike it on the legs or back or skull.

He snatched up the baseball bat, the gnarled handle a little greasy and slimy in his hand. Glaring at the tops of his eyes, he began to creep towards the creature, raising the bat above his head.

A siren screamed out from the dark, which had Justin jerking to a stop. Distrust jangled through him. Could that have been the COPS? Perhaps somebody had heard all the smashing and SHRIEKING sounds, so had decided to call ‘em? If they caught Justin, they would send him back to the BAD hospital. He would never see Dr Hardy or Abigail or Carrie or Lara or Abigail-Carrie-Lara’s abusive ex-husband, Mr Burkeman, EVER again. That last one was actually GOOD, but the others were bad. VERY bad. He had to kill the creature QUICKLY.

Keeping a wary distance, Justin darted around the creature and lashed out with the baseball bat, aiming to hit any part of its hard, twisted body. Some of the blows whooshed through empty air, because at times he was too scared to leap any closer to the living spider statue. What if it grabbed at his arms or legs? Or extended another spike, which was surely full of VENOM?

Justin counted five or six - no, seven, no, no, EIGHT - attempted blows before pale blue lights started to dance around the asphalt and the walls of the building. The sirens were so loud, so TUMULTUOUS now that they seemed to screech and scream discordantly inside his head.

No, no, NO. Justin wasn’t going back to the BAD hospital. He abandoned the spider person creature and tore off down an alley, his knuckles white around the baseball bat.
 
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Age
623
Gender
Agender (they/them, he/him)
Species
Sentient Gem
Occupation
Unemployed
Alignment
Chaotic Good
Relationship Status
Making Mistakes
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There was a loud clatter from behind them, the sound of the human shifting through whatever had been dumped onto the road. To look behind them meant that they would have to pause in their escape, and that was too risky. Already they were moving slowly, far far too slowly to even hope to escape the Lunar-

Human.

It was a human attacking them. A creature with the flesh of an Admiribilis, the Spirit of a Lunarian, and the bones of a Gem. The sort of creature that Kongo had once cared for; once their meager Land was filled with this type of creature. Were all of them so brutal and harsh for no reason just as this Human was? Stories heard at sea. For whatever odd reason or another, the question only conjured back memories that they had no hope of remembering.

Whatever thread that they had grasped onto was lost the second an odd scream filled the air. It was a noise that they had grown used to hearing in Pandora despite the fact that Phos didn't have a clue as to what it was. A good omen, they prayed, but that was quickly dashed the second something connected with the back of their head.

The Human was still attacking them, and there was nothing they could do under the overwhelming force. One, two, three, four, and then their head cracked apart. There wasn't even time to cry out for help before their body slumped forwards on the asphalt. The gold legs collapsed under their own weight as even more bled through the cracks in their shattered body.

There wasn't even a twitch as the human raced away.

 
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Ladies and gentlemen of the Elysium, and the Pandora infinity beyond, I am proud-- nay, honoured to come before you as your new General Secretary. It is my promise to lead this city and its relations beyond into a new golden age with no compromise that leaves us compromised. Hail! Hail Elysium!
Oh man, this is like the late '60s all over again.
No one stared at my arm so much until today for some reason.
Totally unrelated the current political climate but anybody know Trilla's number?
Ok Elysium, dads not mad. Just really disappointed that you'd fumble the ball that I literally put just a yard away from the endzone.:mad:

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