ARCH 1.1

“…life sucks, then you die…”

10 Nov 2026, zero dark thirty

Vic wakes up uncomfortable in his modified bed.

He doesn’t want to get up again, third time already, but he has to.   

{dont risk it you old geezer…    just get up again.  can’t risk it, don’t risk it…   …so uncomfortable)

Horrible feeling.

Like a stubborn orange on a short nail day, Vic struggled to peel out the bed.

He gets up, quiet as he can to sneak past Nala on the couch a few feet away.
His bones creak and make noises of their own against the silent night; worried about waking her up; turned out that Nala’s sleep is unpredictably sensitive and if she wakes up she is going to want to talk about random things that occurred to her, or ask what certain tasks would look like before the sun’s out, and all kinds of stay up and not sleep for hours questions…     …and he just wants to maximize rest whenever he can and avoid that for now.  Old people need their extra rest.

{Today was a long day of building, Nala really impresses with her stamina, i can’t keep up with her…     …She’s so darn excited to be working on her new shed, a space of her own.  we’re learning so many words…   …what were them words again?  Right, she said, ‘kiwen tan sina en mi tawa tenpo ni iiiiiiiiiiis thank you for being my friend todaaaaaaaay’}

Vic chuckles to himself quietly as he moves about like an old dusty house mouse,

{imma have to remember that, that wording was nice of her.  she’s so expressive.  bless her}

On his way navigating the dark Vic stepped on a lego piece Nala had left out by accident, Vic screamed at the top of his lungs; but with his mouth closed, his eyes doing the howling.

While flaunting the flamigo pogo dance, he banged his knee-up against a cabinet something wicked, making a loud sound.

Nala budged, adjusted herself to her other side, farted, then did a loud snort-whistle sound…

…to then continue snoring like an epic beast straight from the perry index.

Vic was sobbing, tears out, but not a peep came from him. 

He leaned up against the tall shelf.
{aaaaaaawww chucks that smaaaaaarts! 😭}

Nala had seen Vic’s star war’s movie collection, was a fan of that action and travel and exploring and adventure.  She was learning quickly different human langauges, interactions and social roles and expectations and observations through art mediums like that.  Particularly though, she was excited about the millenium falcon, as Vic happened to have a completed lego one proudly displayed on his wall, something that Nala couldn’t help but notice since her first day awake.  She was in awe and disbelief when she held the same ship that was on screen in the palms of her hand.

Vic lovingly, and begrudgingly, gave it to her after noticing so much attention and questionings of it. 
He knew that giving it to her meant that she was going to play with it a little first, but then will break it completely down to try to figure out how it works, like she has been doing with other mechanisms around the shed.  Thankfully, she is really good at putting things back as they were…    …sometimes.

Vic never thought he would be genuinely frightened by someone taking apart a lego set before; the focus and speed, the insane strength, and her angry pouts when her strength failed when she came across one of those impossibly tight pieces…

Vic gets his breath back from leaning pathetically on the shelf; his knee sore from the cabinet, his foot sole sore from the lego floor trap, his soul sore from living day to day in poverty within a fixed social security income….

{It’s okay, this pain will heal…    …really wish i had another one i could build though…   ….they stopped selling that model, and can’t afford a new one…    …disney’s millenium falcon prices are in hyperspace…    …forget about it, she’s happy and learning and living a fun life, that’s all that matters right now hoss, limp it off}

Vic limps his way to the bathroom. 

Finally pees in the makeshift toilet, a huge sense of relief and comfort drowns everything out. 

This happens to him frequently; it’s frustrating, exhausting, torturous.

He realizes something. 

Something weird since the storm…    …he doesn’t dream anymore, it seems he hasn’t since then. 

Usually before waking up, he is forced awake with having to go to the bathroom…   …or fails to wake up in time from his nightmares…   

 …but no, no dreams since then…

Anyways, it’s late, Vic carefully eases back to his tub-bed.

Feeling more comfortable, ready to rest a little easier as he has been lately, eyes closed; happy to have been called someone’s friend today.