Jfc prep… Pony. Idk why completely the part with Prepotente are killingme so much. I just put down our family’s first pet, a dog -a pug. Made it to 13. I know Matt lost pets and his father while writing these (I lost my dad, my last known bio family). Thank the gods I have a wife and kid to get through this, but fucking A Matt you really know how to look on the inside and intrinsically commodify grief and shitty feelings. It’s really helping for the most part but this part-
“Prepotente,” I said as I pulled up, “we’re running out of time. Look, I know this is hard for you, but you can’t just—” “This is my mother if she had never stayed to take care of her parents,” Prepotente said, interrupting me. He pulled himself to a standing position and wiped his eyes. “She would’ve become a professional concert pianist. She wouldn’t ever have known me. She would’ve traveled the world. She would’ve had everything she had ever dreamed of.” “This isn’t real,” I said. “It’s just a possibility. It’s something that didn’t happen. It doesn’t matter.” “Nobody wants me around,” he said. “I didn’t get to sing when I was practicing so hard, and nobody even said they were sorry they didn’t get to hear me. Everyone is so mean. Imani seemed like she didn’t want me to join the guild.” He gestured upward. “And now seeing this? It’s too much, Carl. I don’t fit in anywhere.” He let out a sad bleat. “I wish I’d never taken the pet biscuit.” My eyes caught something else. On the kitchen counter was a long, long line of prescription bottles. I didn’t know what that meant or what that implied, but it seemed important. We didn’t have time for this, especially now, here. Everything still stung from what I’d just had to do to get here. But still, I held back the retort welling up inside of me. I took a breath. Survival has more than one meaning. “Listen, buddy,” I said, pointing up at Miriam, who appeared to be playing faster and faster. “Look at her. She lives in this super-nice apartment, but she is clearly alone. I don’t think she’s happy here.” “She wasn’t happy at home, either. I don’t remember as well as Donut does, but I do remember some things. She was lonely. Oh, Mother, how I wish I could stay. I wish this was my forever.” Shit, I thought, realizing how easily we’d gotten off with our what‑if room. “Maybe she was lonely in the real world,” I said, trying my hardest to be gentle, hyperaware of the timer. “But you didn’t let me finish. I guarantee she wasn’t as lonely there as she appears to be here. She didn’t have you and her brothers and sisters.” He didn’t answer. Donut: CARL, WHAT IS HAPPENING? Carl: Give me twenty seconds, then come pick us up. I continued. “This what‑if bullshit is insidious. It’s like a goddamned toxic virus in your brain, and once you start going down that road, it’s hard to correct. Of course things would be different if we did this or did that. But we can’t worry about it because there’s literally nothing we can do about it. And if this damn AI is finding itself stuck in loops, running what‑if scenarios over and over again, it’s no wonder it’s going insane.” I put my hand on Prepotente’s shoulder. “Look, buddy. We don’t have time. I’m sorry if we didn’t get to see you sing. But you are always welcome with us.” I paused, remembering my time on Plenty of Plenty. “We are overwhelmed, and all of this sucks, but you and I and Donut and everyone else, we are a herd, and— Oooff.” Prepotente practically tackled me with a tight, suffocating hug. He started to sob. Both the food truck and Sweety pulled up, keeping a distance from each other to keep the containments active. Above, the music was getting faster and faster. Miriam hadn’t noticed us. Sweety the tapir let out a strange, elephant-like snort and her long nose thing snuffled at my hair, messing it all up. She smelled just as bad as the splooge tasted. The caprid pulled himself free and then looked up at Jurgen. “What are you waiting for, you oaf! Time is running out!” I exchanged a look with the large barbarian and shrugged. I turned to get back into the truck. “Carl,” Prepotente said, stopping me. He wiped his eyes again. “Yeah?” “You can call me Pony if you like.”
Fucking dead. Sorry for length. Soo close to home. I didn’t cry during most of the books till Pony joined in Faction Wars. Good to just think there’s nothing we can change. Idk why I’m sharing, just hit so hard. Gonna tell my wife she’s my herd now and she’ll look at me like I’m crazy
