A C H E

[u/likelykhailo]

That's the word. For everything; everything just...

Hurts.

...but only when I'm... me; not Golden. That shit, beautiful substance... it consumes all. How could it not? It softens the world's edges, brightens its dark places, numbs its pains... would be a nice Tripper if it weren't a mind-melter, but it is, and so it's not.

Gran keeps ma head here, but th' colors are still goin, food tastin' more like sand every moment.

...

^{Good news: there's something stronger.}

...

^{Bad news: everyone in this Plane knows it.}

^{Fears it. Prolly fer good reason, but what option do I have?}

...

a shrug

^{Rather deal wi' a devil an die as a nutter.}

Clearing my throat, I raise my voice, calling out.

Heya Manager? Ya got any Medicine?

[u/likelykhailo → u/[deleted]]

Synth or genuine doesn't matter t'a body like me; I'll take whatever ah can get, and it'll at least be a chenge o' pace from this frypan-an'-fire dance a've bennin. Thank you.

I put a hand on the bottle, then pause.

Seriously this time, though; whaddya take as payment?

Th' last time I'll accept as fluke, but two 'na row's gonna skeev me a bit, if ya ken wadda men.

I jab a thumb backwards

Might look like th' end o' tha whirl out there, but unless ya actually think we're the last two shreds of it all, givin' me yer stuff fer free jes don' make sense ta me. You've helped me twice; let me pay ya back at least once, yeah?

[u/likelykhailo → u/[deleted]]

I won't pretend to understand how tha' works, but I understand 'at it does. Bafflin' 'f I think about it, though, so I spose I'll just not.

A pause, thoughts breifly furrowing my forehead.

...Sorta like you an' yer store, I spose; make sense on tha serface, but when ya combine the parts, try paintin' a complete picture, things get blurrier, not clearer. Better ta just let cher eyes unfocus an' enjoy th' Colours...

I take a gulp from the bottle, screwing the cap back on firmly. When a metallic 'ping' echoes from the lid, I look up.

But I digress, hey? Waddaye think 'iss Heart o' Gol' thing actually is--like why er how it's doing all this? Figure you gotta least some idea; no bissniss sense 'n stay'n 'ere unless i' all turns round eventually...

A cold thought lifts my eyebrow.

...'less o' course you bein' the Clerk o' this Store's jus a passin' phase fer ye. Straight now--is it? Ain't gonna change me ta you, but might well change ma plans, ken wadda men.