Chapter Text
The Prompt: SCP-073 with the prompt (s): anger, and origami
The Response:
“Do you ever get angry?” You ask. The question must come as a surprise, to SCP-073- or rather, to Cain. He frowns- you can see it in the reflection of the window .
“Sometimes,” And that’s all he says. Its a start. You don’t expect him to confess to some elaborate crime, that he’s been angry for centuries or something along those lines. Sometimes is a reasonable answer. You look back.
“I rarely get angry,” You reply. Penny for a penny. You fold your hands on your lap, and your head droops downwards. It’s being dragged down by gravity. Your mouth twitches, “But. No one is perfect.”
There’s a tense silence in the air. You exhale, unfold your hands, and put two square sheets of paper on the table. They’re plain white. You slide one over to Cain.
“I do origami when I’m angry. It helps.”
Cain tilts his head slightly, but accepts the paper, positioning it in front of himself. You smile without joy, and begin to fold.
Cain is a fast learner. He mimics your movements without pause.
“Sometimes, feeling angry can be stifling,” You begin, carefully folding the square into a triangle, then another, “It pushes every other emotion out. It’s… hard to think,” another set of folds. This time, smaller. Cain is flawless in his following.
“Other times, it feels hollow,” You easily reverse the paper, making small lines, “You’re angry, then empty. It’s almost as bad as the stifling.”
Cain is silent. But he usually is. You continue folding, “Lots of people get angry. They’re good at hiding it, of course. For instance, right now,” a fold, sharp, “I’m angry.”
You can see Cain shift to get a better look at you, so you smile again, not one of joy but of reassurance, “Not at you. It’s not important. What’s important is that…”
You place the finished origami creation on the table. It’s not flawless, but that wasn’t the point. You judge it with a small, genuine smile, “What’s important is that you accept these feelings. And move on.”
Cain picks up the origami creation. It is a flower. He turns it over in his hands, carefully, then sets it down.
“Thank you,” He states. He sounds uncertain, almost. You reach out and lightly pat his hand.
“I’m glad you were comfortable enough to speak about this with me.”