I've talked a lot about Misery. It's really the main thing that I've been exposed to, really. Or at least, been requested to purge.
Morality's for another day.
Mirth, in its literal definition, is just something that relates to extreme joy, something merry, happy, good and sunshine and rainbows and lovey-dovey crap.
That's...kind of what it applies to when it comes to someone's soul.
Except for pure souls, anyways.
Most souls aren't exactly what people used to think they looked like. It's like...a mutated cell. There's a purple membrane, but people can reach in it.
Within that membrane is a light brown sort of non-Newtonian fluid. It's what you get when you mix cornstarch and water. When you push quickly and with a lot of force, it's extremely solid. But when you go slow and ease your way through, it acts more similarly to a liquid.
Now, why would I bring this up?
Because of what's in that soul material...well, that soul material is what makes humans...human. The color, the oobleck-like properties, it's only unique to humans. After a bunch of experiments on animals, which is a huge issue right now in the world, we found out that the animal kingdom works in a way that's somewhat different than ours.
Again, not important, but it's pretty cool to know.
Inside the soul material is misery, with the dark purple blotches. When near the surface, misery looks like it's chains that all link to one origin point, moving around like tendrils or tentacles on an octopus.
On the inside, deep inside, the misery looks like spiderwebs.
Pure Souls are different.
Obviously, there's no misery in there in the first place. But everything's different. There's a light blue membrane, as bright as the sky, burning white flames instead of soft orange with a weird tinge of blue for morality, which I'll talk about eventually, and most importantly, mirth.
Misery comes from the negative experiences in life. When you cry, sob, cut yourself, have a negative thought, misery's added to your soul. Of course, depending on the action, you might gain more or less misery. It makes your heart feel heavy, your mind numb, and cognitive function can become absolutely garbage.
When you cause sorrow on someone else's life, the weight on your heart is increased exponentially. It's scary, really. Makes a bunch of people in the Sky Towers go insane sometimes if they don't come to a Pure Soul for a purging.
Mirth is a bit different. You can only gain it from two different sources: Making other people's lives better, or from gaining some from a Pure Soul. Pure Souls just...sort of produce it, like a factory, but without any effort.
Mirth is what everyone wants. It's like a drug for most people...well, almost. That's because people don't necessarily need mirth to survive, but the implication of someone who has a lot of mirth is practically a stamp of approval by literally everybody in the Sky Towers. More food, more money, more everything that makes your life better.
That's what people think it is. In reality, it's people brown-nosing over and over and over. There are a few exceptions when it comes to the people up here. You know, the ones who you can just tell aren't lying when they say that they love helping other people.
There aren't many in the Sky Towers, but that's the thing. The system's fucked.
Not like I'm gonna change it. Even Lib hasn't been able to change it, and he's been trying to make the world a 'purer, better, happier place' ever since he was my age.
Granted, he hasn't done too bad.
Also, I can't really speak. I've never even been to the Ground before. Lived up in the atmosphere all my life, with the occasional visit to meet the public.
"Yo," Lib calls out to me, and I turn around. I'd been on a light jog for the last twenty minutes, and I always use this time to think about stuff.
I take off my earphones, which have always been on a low volume so I can hear people, but still focus. I always listen to music from the Ancient Age. It's always...wonderful, never not intriguing how the people of the Ancient Age enjoyed the music they did, including the different genres and ages of music.
The weirdest one that I've listened to?
This era called the 2020's...it's so...bizarre.
"Yeah?" I ask, taking a moment to catch my breath as he catches up with me. "There something you needed to talk about?"
He puts a hand on my shoulder, firm as always, "Yeah, about our visit to the public later."
"What about it?" I roll my eyes, coming to a slow walk. He slows down also. I hate that about him. Well, not really. I just find it odd.
He's...too kind. It's like he's literally Mr. Perfect.
"So," he begins, holding up a notebook. His notebook's in cursive, I noticed. He told me it was because it's easier for him to write in because he can write faster in it.
He flips through a page, "I was thinking about this project we could have with the Sky Towers. You know how the Council holds monthly meetings?"
I nod, "Yeah...they usually just talk about Mirth and Morality reports with the Sky Towers. I don't know why they don't talk with the Grounded."
Lib shrugs, "Same here, honestly. That's what I was thinking about." I raise an eyebrow, and the smirk comes out.
Lib doesn't smirk much. It's either he's smiling, grinning brightly like an idiot, or frowning because he's thinking too hard.
He only smirks when he plans things. And it's usually something big.
His last project was something about a huge garden and museum in the Sky Towers, and it turned out to be a massive success.
"About the Grounded...what if we make an appearance there?" I blink, incredulous, and his tone becomes even more hopeful. "Think about it! There's a water elevator all the way from the Ground to the Sky Towers...so what if we found a way to get down there?"
I cringe, already knowing how much that'd cost, "That'd be a bitch to build, don't you think? It'd cost a ton!"
"Exactly. The Council'd never approve of it rationally. That's kinda why I'm bringing it up to you," he explains, inspecting his fingernails for a moment.
I nod, getting his idea, "And you want me to support you on this, don't you?"
"Mhm!" He chirps. "I know you've been hoping to head to the Ground for a while, right?"
I nod. It doesn't seem like such a bad idea.
"So that'll be perfect!" He claps his hands together. "Of course, the construction'll take quite a bit. Probably a week or two at max, but if we tell the Council to do it, they'll make it happen in three days. You know how glad they are. Besides, you already know...
"Killing us isn't an option. It'd cause a huge riot, far larger than whatever heading to the Ground for a bit could ever do."
I shiver a little at that, a chill running down my spine.
He's really good at this.
"Oh, cheer up! I didn't mean anything by that," he chuckles, patting me on the back. "So, will you back me on the decision?"
I click my tongue, "You haven't been interested in the Grounded before. What changed?"
He hums, "Well, think about it. People genuinely shouldn't have to be discriminated in areas. They might've made a civilization, but they probably have some sort of chaos. I'd prefer that everyone is at their best. Don't you think?"
I sigh. Of course he wants to expand on this stuff again. He's always been about expanding and building more territory so that people can live freely.
"Yeah, but I'm assuming we've gotta be surrounded by bodyguards?"
"Yep," he pops the 'p.' "Sucks, I know. Now, we gotta meet up with the public and tell them about it. If we can get support from the public, it'll be easier to coerce the Council."
I nod again, "You know what, I'll back you on this. But if someone wants to yell at me, you're the one who has to handle it."
He rolls his eyes, "Duh. That's just to be assumed."
"And you gotta buy me a strawberry smoothie from that super cute smoothie stand near the water elevator."
"Ok, now that's pushing it."
~~~
It's an hour or two since Lib and I ran at the track. We're about to head down to the public for the weekly stuff. I don't know when this stuff started, but I know it started because one of the Pure Souls had a romance with one of the Sky Tower Folk and visited once a week because he didn't feel it would be morally correct to override the decision of the Council.
As I put on my pristine white dress, the one I always wear, I look down at the freckles on the backs of my hands. I run a lot, and they've always been there. Yet my skin's always been the same as it always has been. Even if I don't put on sunscreen.
I hear a firm knock on the door, "Yo, you ready?"
I call out to Lib, "Yep! You gonna get Luna?"
"On my way right now!" He answers, his voice becoming more faint as I finish up. Pristine white dress, gentle yellow flats, knee-high socks.
I sigh, glancing down at my legs. It's always such a huge drama, heading down to the public. There's this huge fanfare. A gigantic crowd. Noise, looks of adoration, and the most annoying bit.
Being announced to the world by the Council. Not to the Sky Towers. The entire world. Including the Grounded.
It literally makes no sense. To me, to Lib, and probably to the Grounded. We haven't had contact with them for years now, other than the occasional new misery-purged soul come up to live in the Sky Towers. Not a lot of people do it. Maybe it's tougher than I think it actually is.
I suddenly jolt, interrupted by the soft rapping on my door.
"Come," a soft, reserved voice whispers, quiet enough that I barely hear it. "You've kept us waiting long enough."
He doesn't even wait before gently opening the door, his long, wrinkled fingers wrapping around the edge.
Luna's got heterochromia. The thing that makes your eyes two different colors. His left eye's the one that pops up first, his long silver hair filtering in. His left eye is...bright red. It's a strong shade, and with his unusually wide eyes whenever he looks or talks to people?
Creepy.
His figure's thin, and he always wears one thing when we go out.
His same star-decorated hoodie. It's baggy, long, and covers his hands. I've only seen them a few times...I could probably count it on both my hands, counting this instance.
And his mask.
It's not like a face mask that you wear to filter germs. It's this weird wood carved mask.
I think it's inspired from Samoa, an old territory that I learned used to be incredibly primitive until recent developments in our times.
In fact, he's wearing it right now. He always has been. He told us he has heterochromia, but I can't tell what his other eye color is.
I've asked Lib about it.
He doesn't know either.
Snaking his hand back into his hoodie, stuffing it into his sweatpants, he's dressed as someone my age...except he's not. He's easily over 50, and apparently, his body's already catching up to him. I haven't asked him what his age is.
As I softly rise from my chair, I hear Lib snicker in the background, popping his head in, "Regal as always, Melan."
I roll my eyes, retorting, "Okay, Mr. King of the People."
Luna interrupts, his tone solemn, yet meek as always, "If we may, could you continue your banter in the water elevator? I don't wish to be flooded with questions as to why we were three seconds late."
Lib clicks his tongue, scratching the back of his head, "Fine, fine. And Melan, don't think I already forgot about your smoothie. I'm not that much of a hag yet."
I snicker.
As the three of us walk to the entrance to our palace (is that what it is? I've never really thought of it as anything but a home and just a home), we're greeted by two members of the Council.
"My Lords," they greet simultaneously, bowing down to us. "Are you ready to meet the Public?"
I clear my throat quietly, taking a step forward, "But of course. Thank you for your patience."
"It is our honor," they assure, and I resist the urge to roll my eyes. All of this is formal bull, and I'm pretty sure that everyone cares about it except Lib and I. I'm not sure about Luna.
I send a pointed glance to Lib, who smiles with an amused glint in his eyes.
"Well, can we get on our way?" Lib casually greets, patting one of the Council members on the shoulder. "The people must be waiting for us!"
The one on the left blushes in embarrassment and some twisted sense of pride at the contact, stuttering, "Of course! S-Step here, sir!"
As they make way for us, we step into the water elevator. It's really just a fluid-based contraption that works like a scale with fluid dynamics, but everyone just calls it a water elevator since that sounds cooler.
Once we fly down at a pace that should genuinely be considered unhealthy and unsafe, we quickly land on the platform where we're met with the sight of a few hundred faces.
"Ladies and gentlemen! Today is your weekly meeting with the three Pure Souls of our society!" One of the Council members call out, hands behind their back like what I assume a substitute teacher would do.
It's like they introduce us as if we're gods with their proud tone with hints of excitement themselves, "Lady Melan, Lord Lib, and Lord Luna!"
We hear cheers from multiple crowd members, but the moment we step off the platform?
Silence.
Pure reverence.
They all bow down, the only sounds being the faint pattering of our footsteps as we walk down the stairs.
This?
This is hell.