The Boneheap: Interlude
#11 of The Boneheap
It hadn't initially thought that the being known as Gian-Carlo would pose all that much interest. The encounter that had brought them together had been pure chance, a collision of entropy that it certainly hadn't willed intentionally. Gian-Carlo wasn't one of its more comprehensive projects, carefully observed from a comfortable invisibility and then manipulated, seemingly by outside forces, to an inevitably entertaining result. No, it had simply been bored, between coherent manipulations, sifting through enclaves of dubious characters in the hope of a forced situation it could quickly flip as a source of momentary diversion.
The initial encounter, in fact, had seemed at first so typical of its kind as to be all but banal. Not that it required subtlety for its entertainment, but such an unvarnished application of power, without any intriguing complications, seemed like a waste. So, it had simply played one of its commonly diverting cards, turning the hunter into the hunted, and had prepared itself to observe the newfound prey's desperate scramblings as it tried, and inevitably failed, to escape the seething cauldron of mad lust and violent revenge.
Things changed, though, when the transformed victim spat on its reasonable offer to turn the tables. Perhaps it should have known, or used its powers to observe more closely and carefully rather than jumping quickly out of an intolerable boredom. Certainly, it could have overridden the victim's resistance to it, forced lustful hormones onto her wholly unprepared mind, and let it happen the way it had intended for the scene to play out. And yet... to do so would have fixed things too much, leaving the encounter so uninteresting that it mightn't have bothered getting involved at all. So, it let the woman shift back, let her run off a victim still, looked over at Giancarlo... and decided, upon a more careful glance, that perhaps it might have a way to make the evening something other than a total loss.
And yet, the one it had made into Gianna managed to exceed its expectations. Not just a thug, not merely a simple brute, but careful, cunning, a survivor that did whatever it took. Someone, in fact, that would have more promise than a simple diversion for an otherwise uninteresting night. Far too late to go back to its usual mode, but still... there was something unspeakably intriguing about a nascent project where its manipulations would be front and center, not misdirections from the shadows. More of a challenge, to be sure, but its last few projects had been too... simple, too subtle, so perhaps that more direct challenge would be more satisfying. Not a true battle of wits, considering that from most standpoints it certainly held all the cards. But if it were to relinquish a few of them voluntarily, if it were to make a game out of it... yes, that held the promise of a far more enduring, and entertaining, engagement...
Of course, the thought of that caused the boneheap to cringe, so much as it was able, in at least some semblance of revulsion. Certainly, it didn't mind games so far as they allowed for a particular kind of manipulation, but what irked it was... the process of it all. The rules, the procedures, hanging over it like a spectral straitjacket and putting needlessly tangling complications all over its entertainment. Just like the time before that, and the time before that. Irksome, but... necessary.
While for the boneheap time was not precisely linear, it still had basic notions of before and after. For example, there was a time before, close to when it had sprung into existence, when it had pushed its limits and found that it had none, at least practically. Compared to all the other living things around it, it might as well have been a god. It could play them like puppets, twist them to the shape of its choosing, modify their thoughts and feelings, the very essence of what they considered to be themselves. It could alter memories, relationships, remake their entire perceived world to resemble whatever it desired. It could go anywhere, fade into the shadows or reveal itself in its hideous glory, and nothing the pathetic creatures tried in response could touch it. For a time, it had thought itself capable of being ruler of all that transpired on the planet, with none above it.
Then, however, had come after. Had come the point where others, previously content to hide and do their own things, saw it beginning to interfere with their plans to a sufficient extent that they felt it necessary to make themselves, and their powers, known. Some had far less power, and the boneheap was easily able to bat them and their concerns aside as it continued to play as it desired. Others, though, were obsessed with other things: order, keeping those above the living creatures in line, making sure that the underlying place was never so changed that it was made unrecognizably different from its original patterns and behaviors. Some of those others were also weak, but acting in tandem, they were stronger. Still, the boneheap was able to hold them at bay, but even then it could sense a certain undercurrent to their actions. They were not acting solely of their own volition, but at the behest of some other entity. ONE other entity, as the boneheap soon discovered - and that ONE had a power unlike any of the others. For those others, like the boneheap, could slip and slide through space and time, but up until that point the boneheap hadn't realized that there were many other spaces and times entirely, spaces that ONE had no trouble straddling between - and shifting those with lesser power between them.
The boneheap learned that quickly when it went to challenge ONE like it had all the rest, but ONE had waved a hand, casually as though it were swatting a fly, and the boneheap had suddenly found itself in one of those other spaces. A boring, horrible space, filled with emptiness and nothing - no one to manipulate, no one to twist, no entertainment at all, just an endlessly spinning screen of stars that never seemed to get any closer no matter how far or fast the boneheap tried to move.
For an amount of time that was truly insufferable, the boneheap clattered its rage, but the sound dropped off immediately into the emptiness surrounding it. Only when, after far too long, it had fallen fully silent, had ONE reappeared and brought it back to the space it had known. However, before being released again, ONE had given it a warning, in no uncertain terms: there would be no more adherence to chaos, no more completely unmoored impulse. Its play would be structured, and its more involved machinations given at least the slightest modicum of fair play. Otherwise... well, there were any number of other spaces that ONE could reach, and miserable as the boneheap's experience had been, ONE assured it that there were far less pleasant dimensions it could be made to visit indefinitely should it refuse to play by the rules.
And so it had, enjoying itself enough, but having to do things in such a structured way weighed on how much its machinations could truly thrill. Admittedly, the societies it watched develop had enough in the way of sex, cruelty and manipulation on their own that sometimes it was merely enough to observe, and give a subtle nudge here or there that couldn't possibly fall afoul of anything. Its major projects, though, the ones it had delighted in the most before... in some cases, the structure made them easier, as such a thing made it abundantly clear how great the power imbalance was between the boneheap and its chosen subjects. But at the same time, it made things far less satisfying. Even though it was largely inevitable that it would always "win" whatever games it played, simply by virtue of setting both the written and unwritten rules, the challenge of everything recently had been far too empty.
Which was, perhaps, why the one known as Gian-Carlo had become so immediately interesting. Most, in a similar situation, would have quickly broken in some way or other, would have panicked so much at the differences as to be unable to resist much of what came next.
But this one... this one fought, and not just in an impulsive way. It was a predator, and even being turned into prey, it had managed to not only keep its cunning and skill, but to adapt them rapidly to its new situation. No, this one had the potential to be a challenge... and if the boneheap had to live with some restriction either way, a game would certainly provide the most entertainment. Especially, for one such as Gian-Carlo, to make the conditions of the game resolve around being put into a situation and role that Gian-Carlo could not have previously even contemplated, again and again to see what sort of fascinating cracks and fissures of personality would begin to form...
And yet, despite it all, no truly sufficient cracks had begun to develop. The boneheap's perceptions were such that it could sense the burden of potential victimhood continued to wear on Gianna, bending and hobbling her bit by bit, the frustration of being vulnerable and receptive occupying her thoughts and aggravating her nerves. But while there had been moments of seeming surrender - one particularly glorious moment of realization while visiting a heat club had stood out as especially vivid and intriguing - she had yet to properly accept or give in to her situation. Even now, the boneheap could sense her machinations building, her plans slowly grinding into place with calculating efficiency. True, if it had glanced within her thoughts it could have simply ascertained all of her plans and bluntly undermined them - but refusing to do such a thing was one of the unwritten rules it had adopted along the way as part of the game. Emotions, sure, but not direct thoughts. Doing such would have made things far too imbalanced - and the way the game was going, with intrigue building up into a delightful simmer, that was where striking just the right balance would be crucial to compelling the most fascinating and entertainingly unpredictable outcomes.
No, ONE aside, the game was proceeding well enough, and the boneheap was quite happy with... well, no. Not quite all aspects of it. With H-ugh, in the van, it had seen an easy opportunity and had taken it - trying to salvage some entertainment from what should have been an ideal situation. Had it not had a momentary lapse of its normally careful consideration, it would have noticed how truly weak H-ugh was, beneath his masculine fronting and stumbling performance of dominance. But it had moved forward anyway, and while the result had been entertaining, for a while, it came at the cost of advancing its actual project, and the end result was a pathetic personality easily caving in to submissive sluttiness. Not a bad result if it had come after an entertaining bout of breaking and wearing down, but to succumb so willingly... No, it had been clear early on that, accident or not, H-ugh had found her true form, and there was little else interesting to do with it.
Still, it had found some useful way for H-ugh to serve it, both as a demonstration of its power, and a speedy descent into submission close enough at hand for Gianna to witness. Her presence in the heat club had served well, and the look of undisguised horror on Gianna's face as it had slowly unwoven the final threads of H-ugh's masculinity had been well worth it. While taking such action had also had the effect of removing H-ugh from the field of play, so to speak, it nevertheless had seemed appropriate, and meant that there would not be a developing ancillary game for it to deal with, or for ONE to take even more intrusive notice of.
No, ONE was not to be trifled with - but at the same time, as it had slowly come to realize over the course of its games, ONE was not without weakness. In fact, being so obsessed with putting rules in place, it only stood to reason that a creature of rules made manifest must itself be bound by some of them. While its rules had tremendous power and consequence behind them, for its rules to have power they had to be true - and so, by stating them, ONE was logically required to be an entity of its word. And those words, perhaps, might be just what the boneheap needed, if it was to bring its game to not only the most entertaining, but the most desirous of outcomes.
Said challenge, it knew, was creeping ever closer. Gianna, despite her distaste for such things, was slowly and carefully racking up points according to her specific plans. The boneheap still hadn't decided whether it made more sense to intervene heavily, or to simply wait and scheme towards the eventual challenge. If Gianna continued at her pace, though, and continued pressing her determination, the choice she would make when the challenge arrived would be too... predictable. Still, its lazy, half-inspired attempt at disruption had left it feeling more annoyed than anything.
Perhaps, then, it would need to step things up. The game was already attracting more attention from... outside parties than it had anticipated, and while that had injected a bit more unpredictability into the mix, things were becoming far too staid for its tastes.
No, it would have to intervene, whether forcefully or subtly. While it was not entirely averse to Gianna speeding things up a little in a sprint towards the challenge, it made no sense for that acceleration to be on her terms. If the challenge was to be the climax of this particular game, well... perhaps it was time to take things from a simmer to a boil and see what might result...