Side-Write: At the Bottom (Patreon)

I'm finally feeling better! Still a little tender, but well enough to write at least. Thanks for your patience with getting this out!

Well, I knew getting this one started that it was going to be pretty bittersweet. It seems that I'm still writing like I've got a chip on my shoulder, too. The funny thing is, I'm still experimenting with how to deliver a better tone, and more positive stories. Considering how this one turned out, that is... obviously still a work in progress. But I think it's at least a decently rewarding read, and I hope you'll enjoy it overall.

As always, this isn't technically canon so much as an exploration of the world of Project Wild One and its potential lore, so to speak. Cheers!

Warning: This story is pretty depressing, and contains several references to and a brief description of rape.

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The funny thing was, life at the bottom wasn't actually that bad.

Well... that wasn't true. It was pretty tough being hungry all the time, and there were always cheapskates prowling around. But she'd learned pretty quick to avoid the worst streets for that, and when to duck out of sight. Patrols almost never took her in, but it was almost as bad the way they'd try to lecture you into turning your life around. They didn't get it.

Most folk didn't get it, really. Even the others like her, most of them tried to hold on to something. They'd choose something stupid like some old keepsake, or jewelry, or a home, or another person, that they'd treat like it's some big sacred deal, and as long as that was safe, they were okay. Which just meant it was a matter of time until something happened and they broke. It'd get stolen or destroyed, and they'd make it everyone's problem, running around screaming and crying until the guard took them away. Stupid.

All you need is yourself. That's the real trick to it. The Gods had basically spelled it out, as far as she was concerned. Your life is the one thing nobody can take away from you. You'll always get it back, because it's... the only thing you really need. Everything else comes and goes.

And as much as the city takes, it also provides. There were a lot of places to find food if you were clever, sometimes without even stealing, and she was always finding more. She knew the best deals in town for turning gold into a full tummy, as well. That was always the biggest challenge, and even if she wasn't hungry, she kept eating whenever she could. They like girls that aren't too skinny. She knew where to get clean water, too-- that was even more important. Whatever she was wearing, however she acted, that's what made the biggest difference in who came sniffing around, and what they wanted to do: how clean she was.

Besides, it felt nice. Sometimes, just being clean was enough for her to feel well. Being warm and full just made it a lot easier.

But that wasn't even what made this life... not so bad. It still surprised her sometimes, when she remembered how she'd felt at the start. When everything fell apart, and she suddenly had nowhere to go, nobody to rely on. She'd been so... terrified. And the... the path down, from her warm, cushy before-life to this place, had been a lot harder than it had to be, because she'd acted like those other dummies at first. She'd tried to hold on to things. She'd turned down money because she had too much pride, because she didn't want to feel unclean, or because she was afraid. It was a long... slow... painful journey, letting go piece by piece, to get here. And for a little while, she just... went numb. She thought maybe she'd died, but was still walking around. Still hungry.

The funny thing is, it was one of the cheapskates that woke her up. It wasn't a surprise by that point that some folk she thought might be customers decided they just didn't want to pay, and when it was clear a few scratches wouldn't dissuade this one, she'd just gone limp. Easier to wait it out than to deal with what he did if he got too angry with her.

But suddenly, he was crying. He started apologizing and babbling about a bunch of crap she didn't care about, making excuses. For a moment, she felt anger welling up in her, and she thought maybe if she struck him just right he'd back off. But... she was too tired. Not just physically, but just... she didn't even want to hurt him. She didn't want to carry that with her.

And the stupid thing is, she started crying too. And maybe laughing? And just like that, somehow, that... crust... had broken open. She wasn't hard and dead. She'd just hidden herself away to stop the pain. And somehow, deciding not to hurt someone else had poked enough of a hole through that it all came apart. She didn't understand any of this at the time, but it had kinda come together for her after. The guy backed off after that, kinda sheepish, and when he awkwardly asked about if she needed something, she got a little money after all. Funny thing was, she would've let him keep going then, but he wasn't in the mood anymore. That was nice, though. It let her take some time to process all this. And eat.

That was when she first started putting it together. It took a lot of trial and error after that, but she started having a better time of it. And she realized that a lot of the times she'd been so terrified and ashamed early on, she hadn't noticed that... the other one had been afraid too. Ashamed, too. Maybe not even wanting to do what they ended up doing, but it was all she offered. Because she thought all they wanted was her body.

But the truth was, a lot of them didn't just want a body. Hearing the men talk among themselves, they made it sound like that was everything to them. But it wasn't.

When she'd really gotten into the swing of it, dressing up just right and carrying herself just right, some people just wanted to talk. To talk about theirselves for an hour or two, and maybe have her tell them how hard that must be, how right they were to feel how they did. Well, sometimes that was harder than dealing with the usual customers, honestly, but it was a nice change of pace, and she didn't have to clean up after.

Some just wanted to be close to someone, to feel a warm body against theirs. Or maybe, mostly that, with some of the rest mixed in. It was still hard to tell how it'd go in the end, they kept surprising her. The big, surly, dangerous-looking ones often turned out to be fervent snugglers, and sometimes even rather chaste. Oh, if she presented herself one way they'd still pounce on her like a beast. Like... they felt like she expected it? Like as much as she was performing for them, they also needed to perform for her? But if she presented just right, a lot of them turned out... pleasant.

That was the secret she'd cracked that day, that it took her so long to fully understand, and that made her journey to this point so much hard for not knowing. Most people don't want to hurt anyone. They want to feel good. They want to feel connected to someone, and alive. They want you to be happy to see them, and to spend time with them. They want to feel like they belong, like they're accepted. And... in some amount, they wanted her to be happy and well, too. Sometimes, if she slipped in a little complaint or two about how she'd been doing, or if she looked especially hungry, some of them would pay her extra, or even just take her somewhere to eat. The first time that happened, she'd cried at the table and embarrassed everyone. It was just all so... strange, and... different, from what she'd expected.

Well. This life was still hard. Sometimes, someone was just angry, or twisted up inside, and paying or not, they hurt her. Or killed her. She couldn't avoid them all, all she could do was learn how to make it less likely. Pick up the signs. Know when to hide, and when to run. These days, she was good enough that she only had to make that long, tired walk back into town every once in a while. She'd tried to convince herself that waking up all drained and weak in some random field on the outskirts was relaxing, that she didn't need to think about how she'd died, what it had felt like. She never fully got used to that, even after all these times.

But every life has its ups and downs. She'd assumed it would be pretty much all downs, really, down here. But actually... she got the chance to make people feel good, which felt surprisingly good on its own. She got the chance to connect, just a little. And... maybe more than just about anyone else in this city, she'd come to understand that... as ugly and cruel as this city was, basically everyone was just... trying their best. Everyone wants to be good. It's just... hard. And... in her own way, maybe she was helping with that, just a little. She liked to imagine sometimes that the men that came and complained to her about their wives or girlfriends were able to figure things out, patch things up, once they got it off their chests. Or that even if they got a little action on the side, it maybe made it a little easier for them to stay with the people they cared about. Sometimes she'd even given a little advice. Guys liked to ask her for her opinion as a woman, sometimes.

She liked to imagine she was doing a little good, down here. Bouncing people back up into their lives when they sank a bit. Or something like that.

It really wasn't as bad down here as she'd thought. She didn't hold out hope for someone picking her up and taking her away from this or anything like that. Thinking like that can break you, just like the drugs can, or holding on to objects or people. She'd found her balance, and as long as she closed her heart to the pain... but opened it to those that wanted to open theirs... she could spend a surprising amount of her time... smiling. And not even having to fake it.