It was stressful enough to have to deal with people.
It was even more stressful to have to deal with anyone's relatives.
When Ted realized that almost everyone was someone's relative, he had a mental breakdown while smoking outside the house of Eknie's family.
He was glad to be alone for a moment.
Everyone, every single person in the world, everywhere. Obnoxious aunt or entitled nephew, it didn't matter. He was a genius, a diamond in a pile of manure, and he just couldn't always deal with it very well.
He had to punch a living human being sooner or later. He felt the rage build up inside him. It was only being strengthened by the violent bursts of sunlight coming through the clouds.
He drew deep breaths of smoke in, rhythmically breathing it back out again, hoping that the slight burn inside his throat would consume him entirely.
He was not in a good mood.
Every last cretin making his life miserable would suffer once the solar god…yes. The sacrifice would make him too great to resist, he had to think about it that way, because the other option was too horrible to even consider.
He did not want to think about a life like the one he was living today, surrounded by mediocre bottom-feeders yet unable to do anything about it for social reasons.
He didn't want to hurt his hand. Otherwise, he would have punched the wall.
Eknie came to him to bum a smoke. Her family did not approve of cigarettes.
"I know," she said without a hint of softness. "Sometimes I wish I was an orphan."
"Don't we all. Are all family meetings like this?"
Ted paused, and then decided to speak his mind.
"Is life supposed to be like this? Endlessly giving you more fuel that helps you become a raging homicidal maniac? Where, Eknie, where are the people who make it all worth it? Or is it so that it'll always just be the three of us? Is this even worth trying?"
"You should talk with the madhouse girls," Eknie said. She looked like she was contemplating something very hard right now.
"Why, will they make this feeling go away?"
"Yes, but you'll get something much worse in return. Like with the s…oh, mother of worms. I can't even speak of the wretched star when it's right there staring at us."
"Eknie, the sun doesn't have eyes," Ted said, but he was not convinced in the least.
"The entity, anyway. Do you feel too overpowered when it makes its presence known? Because…I do not. I don't like it, either, but feeling alone in the middle of the stupidest, most obnoxious crowd, it might be a bearable state of mind, while feeling so…so…I don't have any words for what the entity makes me feel like. It's so horrible, Ted."
"I get you, I feel seen, I am glad we get each other," Ted said, leaning onto the wall. "Do you think your family thinks we're getting handsy out here? Because it would be awfully convenient if we want to chain smoke and plan our next killing."
"Ted, you have to stop killing high-value people. Let's cut a homeless man next, or flay, or whatever you want to do."
"Eknie." Ted felt that old yearning rising in his spine again, the burning need to be close to her, but it had none of that saccharine quality to it that love was supposed to have.
"Eknie," he said again, tasting how metallic her name was on his tongue. "I kill when I want. I kill who I want. But the homeless man idea…I do like that. And I do like you. Love, really, what do you need love for? When I can give you the world on a silver platter...why do you long for that other stuff?"
"I don't," she whispered, her voice hissing like a thousand snakes.
For some reason, this made Ted think about the salamander. While he would have liked to say that it was prospering, that was not the case.
He really needed to get someone with more experience with amphibians to come take a look at it.
"You…don't look like you're in pain anymore," Eknie remarked, gently flicking the ash off her cigarette just so that it missed the flower arrangements next to the stairs. "Are you in pain?"
Ted tried to examine his body and mind for a sign of agony or frustration.
He didn't find that many tense parts, in fact, he felt sort of warm and good.
The salamander had been a sign. He had to be responsible, not in the way people usually meant it, of course, he just had to calculate everything well ahead.
"I'm not in pain anymore, no."
He thought about building a facade that cared about Eknie's emotions. It wasn't healthy to tie one's wellbeing to the whims of others, but a little flattery was always a good idea.
"Are you?" he asked her. "In pain, I mean."
"Well. The coffee my aunt makes could raise the dead, so, I am a bit jittery, but definitely not in actual pain. Thanks for asking."
Ted agreed that the coffee was overly strong, and they finished off their fourth or fifth cigarettes.
They went back inside, and Ted had a moment of silence to feel properly horrified about his worsening mental health.
He had to punch a human being in the face soon. This would not do – he was more prone to frustration than ever, and the weather forecasts told of sunlight and sunlight again.
Everywhere, the rays found Ted, even during the rainy season. It did not feel fair.
Or perhaps it was him who was feeding the god of that cursed star. Perhaps the mere existence of the Society made it so that the deity could feed on the wills or the life energies of the cultists. Ted would have to have a serious talk with it.
Who knew, perhaps it was possible that it could be reasoned with.
Ted's summoning abilities were a bit stunted at the moment, though.