Skamp's Story

In Space, a thing, for there was yet to be a word for it, was both like and unlike substance. It hung in Space without direction and purpose. Like all things, this mass was a byproduct of the original God.

The consciousness that resided in this mass began to move. After so many years -- well, not quite 'years', there was some developing and creating yet to come before they could be called years -- the inactivity now felt like chains to the creature. Oh, or maybe it was gravity. Either way, the being found itself approaching the flat landscape with no means of an easy landing, nor a realization of this fact. When its body impacted the solid form, it yielded to the stationary surface.

For a short while it was dazed, but soon enough it collected itself and extended vertically to its fullest height.

The creature was tall and thin, with long limbs slightly disproportionate to his body. (Yes, his. Tired of the ambiguity, he chose a gender for himself. At least a temporary one. He had a feeling nothing about him should stay the same.) The eyes in his head, not odd to him as they were the only he'd seen, flickered over the gray and dreary landscape.

A feeling began to rise inside him, like emotional vomit, but instead of bile, words came out. "This place is..." Just as suddenly as the words had sprang forth, the froth died off, and he was left with an open mouth. He tried again, "This place is dull."

Idly, he stooped over and ran his long fingertips over the surface. This time, the ground lent itself to him, and he could scoop up a handful of dirt.

His hand tightened around it, pushing some of the dry material together, but mostly just pushing it out of his grip. "What to do?" Again, that odd sensation of speaking. He glanced around once more. "Surely, I can't be alone. There has to be at least one other being. If not, how boring."

He didn't bother keeping his thoughts to himself because as far as he could tell, he was alone -- and his was the only opinion that held authority to him -- plus he was growing extremely fond of that feeling.

Suus had been working. This how he had always been, tireless, methodical. He was unaware of himself, lost in the endless task that had been assigned to him... by who? He couldn't remember, but that was of little consequence in the grander scope of his task. There was an immeasurably complex mesh that had been stretched beyond comprehension, spun of a material that formed the material and all else in between. And it was growing, stretching further and further into the unknown. He was a part of it, although he did not understand what it was or even what it's purpose was.

This dawned slowly on suus, who slowly became aware of these truths. It was as if there was a dawning light, that had begun gently to stir suus to life - until a sense of purpose burned inexorably at his very being of what he was. His name, suus, was given to him, binding him to his purpose. He was nothing more than that.

Moving of his own accord, he was drawn to a monstrous snarl in the fabric. This was why he existed. To fix problems like these. He congealed into a form, a reflection of his nature - organised, unassuming, unostentatious - and stepped into the dirt.

He flinched. It was lacking the pure harmony that he was used to. Although, it had a different order which he could not decipher yet. It would be his task to to untangle this mess and restore order. Once again assured in his purpose he moved on and there he saw Skamp. He felt an affinity with him but there was nothing in Skamp that could gave him a clue to why. The gangly figure seemed to lack any definition, which smacked him as a wasteful. Why extrude so much power and yet be so vague? Or frivilous? Suus thought as he watched Skamp scoop dirt and address the middle distance.

Having a schedule to keep, suus flatly asked:

"What are you?"

"My my. Such a peculiar, no weird..." For a moment, it seemed as though he didn't know quite what to say, or if he did, how to phrase it. After thinking for a minute, he settled on, "Such an odd thing you are."

Again, Skamp thought for a moment. With this new found ability to communicate came a desire to be eloquent and concise, though he didn't much show that particular desire. "Such an odd question too..." It hadn't occurred to him that no one would know who he was. Although, once it did, the thought tasted repulsive in his mouth, all bitter and filled with disgust, the way he imagined disappointment would taste like. His face twisted briefly into a scowl.

"I am Skamp. And I am also correct in my previous observation, as you are obviously capable of speech, which you've just displayed." He switched the direction of the conversation without a pause. "Why ask such a ridiculous question? What does it matter what you know me as? It doesn't matter to me what you are. Why attempt to confine me to ridiculous titles?"

He glanced at the newcomer. The absolutely riveting, shifting form contrasted so painfully to that dull, monotonous voice. "I'll then turn the inane question to you. What are you?"

"suus"

He replied impassively to Skamp's wordy question. Maybe suus could have spared him a better response, but he found that he had little to say in reply. The scene was similar to a fish meeting a bicycle in a desert - neither had much in common, apart from sharing the same place. And perverse curiosity. His figure shifted, spreading his form and stringing a web that represented this particular space in the relative flow of things. It was all a paragon of symmetry until it reached the thick knot in the center. If Skamp was bothered to look closer at the knot, he would be able to see the tiny forms of Skamp and suus, standing on the knot while looking at the knot, showing a picture of the knot where the tiny figures of Skamp and suus, standing on the knot were looking at the knot...

The moment seemed to be suspended in time, without knowing way of knowing how long exactly they stood there. Maybe a heartbeat, maybe forever. But there was enough time for Skamp to look at what suus had casually showed him. Perhaps Skamp would understand the exact magnitude of his problem. Maybe he could be persuaded to help suus solve this puzzle.

Or maybe he could see the problem that he posed for suus.

Skamp was more than just a ridiculous title in suus' analysis of the situation. There was a great deal hinged off this gratuitous specimen that had been labeled "Skamp". He was more popular than he gave himself credit for. But what he would do with this nugget that suus had shared with him?

Suus waited...