Umemiya isn't weirded out much by someone quietly lingering around him. Shit, boys at his school do that at his rooftop garden for one reason or another. Sugishita isn't good at talking, and Kusumi doesn't talk, at least that Umemiya's ever heard. If this guy has something to say, he will.
Which is why he reacts immediately when he approaches with a question, straightening up from the carrot seeds he's planting and brushing off his forepaws. "Go ahead and ask."
It might become obvious for the first time, when he speaks, that this is a teenager, not some seasoned old man who's been gardening forever. But he clearly knows his shit.
Simon has largely been classifying the people ('people?') he's met into two categories: adults and children.
The way he was raised--and the limitations of his extremely narrow experiences--doesn't really engender a midpoint. This guy doesn't sound like a child exactly, so Simon takes him to be somewhere on the adulthood side of things.
This is a good thing, really; his experiences with children here so far have been... challenging.
It's hard enough to interact with people ('people?') here, to act like nothing is as serious as it was, no desperation or imminent ending against which each human being's right to continued life must measured. Like there's no starvation for food, for water, for reason or hope or faith or life.
People are just... existing, and they're saying things to each other, and they plant gardens, and.... it's not the end of the world.
He doesn't really know how to act like that. He only knows what he wants to ask right now, and so he asks it.
"A mix of compost and shit, usually." He means actual compost. Veggie scraps from dishes cooked in all three guilds, dried leaves, remnants from pruning. He keeps his compost heap away from everyone's dwellings, to be polite.
The vermiculture's as often Wurmpleculture as anything else.
The shit, meanwhile, speaks for itself. Pokemon eat, Pokemon shit. No one usually dwells on that fact.
Simon isn't really bothered by the shit thing. It only makes sense--in his experience, every last gram of any possible resource is used and re-used in any way one can. It's the compost he's concerned about.
"What's in the compost?"
Just asking. You know. A normal question. This is a normal question.
It's not like he's acting nervous. He's not. He's serious, but he's calm--at least externally; the bright pools of light that are his eyes swirl steadily.
"Eh, whatever waste the kitchens have. Potato peels, apple cores, carrot tops--though we could do more with those if someone wanted to cook them or put them in a salad, but no one's made the effort."
Umemiya shrugs slightly, not understanding why it's even a question.
"Weeds from the gardens, those end up cut up and put in the compost, too."
The words drop out of his mouth with an edge of anger that he doesn't hide. It doesn't occur to him that he should.
This wasn't what he came for--he came to find out where the bodies came from, or how they were supplying enough nourishment for the plants otherwise. But now--
"If it goes into the compost, it's not really a waste. It helps us grow more food. We're not dealing with scarcity here--there's enough to go around."
Though that reaction makes Umemiya wonder where Simon would sit on the whole hunting debate. It's probably best not to introduce that line of thinking quite yet.
"It's food," Simon rebuts immediately. "It's--that's--"
He's not great at words, and struggles for a second before he finally finds the one he wants. "--disgusting!"
That's it, really. That's what he feels. Which, normally, wouldn't be something on offer--and he realises quickly that he probably overstepped.
"I mean--sure, there's enough, okay, I get that, and that's... that's great. It is." But.
It's still so wrong, to him.
It does, however... answer his question. In a very slowly-loading, background kind of way. His next words are quieter--almost an undertone meant only for himself.
"...I guess if there's that much, you don't need bodies...."
"Bodies?!" Right, cultural standards of disgust are very different, but Umemiya's fur all bristles when he hears that word.
"No, never. For one thing, meat rots at a very different rate, and attracts vermin--in this world, that'd be wild Pokemon from the forest--long before it rots enough to get used as compost. Vegetable matter breaks down quicker and cleaner, and also stinks less! Like, I can see using bonemeal for nitrogen fixing in the soil, but there's no way we'd use bodies just for compost."
Simon is outwardly unmoved when the blue thing (he doesn't know what to call this creature at all) riles up. Internally, he's a bit confused, but without muscles or a real meat-and-electricity body to tense up reflexively for him, he simply stares back at Umemiya, seemingly nonplussed.
"They do what?" The pools of energy that make up Simon's 'eyes' are spinning faster now against the backdrop of condensed red starlight.
"And that's just fucking fine to you? Eating--aren't they people? You're eating people." He feels insane. Which isn't unusual--he feels unhinged, feels out of control all the time. It happens again and again, and the rest of the time he's helpless. He tries. He kept trying, but he had his purpose and his orders, and he served the Father, his Brothers, the Tree, and God.
And now--
Now? He's completely fucking lost, and he feels like it.
"Like animals," Simon puts it together. "Like actual fucking--animals." Fuck. Fuck!!
"Do you want me to explain my stance on the matter, or are you committed to your indignation?"
It's an honest question. Umemiya's not interested in fighting with anyone who won't have an open mind on this topic. But he's also not ashamed of where he sits in the whole thing, as someone who, yeah, does hunt.
Simon shuts up. For a moment, anyway. He shuts up and he hovers, silent.
"I'm not indignant," he says, finally. His voice is mostly deadpan, but there's an exaggerated bluntness, like he's frustrated--or exasperated. "I'm confused."
And then, quieter: "'s different."
If he was a little bit less upset, he might be able to acknowledge that he is at least kind of indignant, because the line this guy is drawing doesn't make any fucking sense. But being indignant isn't allowed.
Umemiya's ears perk up a little. He looks down at his garden plot, and back at Simon.
"You're not wrong, when you say it's like animals. Here's the thing: we're like animals, too. Out in the wild, it's normal, natural for Pokemon to hunt and forage. You'll see a Froakie stick out its tongue and catch a Butterfree, or a pack of Houndour chasing after a Stantler. If I go out hunting something alone, and I fuck up and get myself killed, my body wouldn't go to waste. Scavenging Mandibuzz would eat my flesh. To make the choice to hunt is to choose to actively participate in this world, rather than trying to hold onto every last scrap of my humanity and make the world conform to me. We're already leaving a big mark on this world, building settlements on what used to be wild land. I want to be thoughtful about trying to hold myself apart from the world I'm in now."
He shakes his head, holding up one of his paws.
"There's a friend I made, early on in my time here. Before he arrived in the Bay, he was a cat. Like, a stray cat, the kind who hunts rats and pigeons in the wild. The first time I went on a hunt, it was to feed him, when he'd just gotten out of the clinic, too weak to get his own 'freshkill', as he put it. Because he had only ever eaten animals, you know? I know we're all bringing the mindset of the world we came from with us. Can't help not to. But it's not the default, here."
But they flow over him, around him, and even through him. He understands what's being said, nominally at the very least. He knows most of the words, and the ones he doesn't--which is actually quite a few--he can navigate well enough through context. X catches Y with its tongue. A pack of G chases after H. Animals eating animals. He's not from the COI, he doesn't understand all the scientific details of the world that they claim to. But he's not stupid. He's not completely clueless.
What he gets out of this explanation is this: the guy he is talking to uses a lot of words. He thinks that he and Simon are invaders, somehow. He 'chooses' to 'actively participate' in 'this world,' which sounds kind of meaningless to Simon but it means a lot to the guy.
And... that whatever Simon thinks--like whatever this guy thinks, and whatever this guy's friend-cat thinks--is wrong, here. That if he doesn't obey this place's rules, that's his choice. But it's the wrong one.
Putting up buildings and living like a human being is wrong, but they still do it.
And he gardens to feed people who want to act like humans, but he doesn't do it himself? That part is a little murkier, but it's all just a lot to take in, a lot to try and understand and follow and process and.... and what? Simon isn't sure what it is he's supposed to do with all this information. The guy didn't tell him that part. So he sits--or rather, floats--in place, staring at Umemiya silently and with no real clear expression on his blank light-and-energy face, a face set agaiy still do it.
And he gardens to feed people who want to act like humans, but he doesn't do it himself? That part is a little murkier, but it's all just a lot to take in, like a sermon. A sermon, he knows what a sermon is, how the Father spoke and he listened, they all listened. He and his Brothers, and then--
And then what? Simon isn't sure what. The guy didn't tell him that part.
So he sits--or rather, floats--obediently in place. And when it's over, he stays there, staring back at Umemiya silently. There's no clear expression on his blank light-and-energy face. Solemn, serious, like he was in fact listening... but passive. Blank.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2026-04-13 02:22 am (UTC)Which is why he reacts immediately when he approaches with a question, straightening up from the carrot seeds he's planting and brushing off his forepaws. "Go ahead and ask."
It might become obvious for the first time, when he speaks, that this is a teenager, not some seasoned old man who's been gardening forever. But he clearly knows his shit.
no subject
Date: 2026-04-13 02:55 am (UTC)The way he was raised--and the limitations of his extremely narrow experiences--doesn't really engender a midpoint. This guy doesn't sound like a child exactly, so Simon takes him to be somewhere on the adulthood side of things.
This is a good thing, really; his experiences with children here so far have been... challenging.
It's hard enough to interact with people ('people?') here, to act like nothing is as serious as it was, no desperation or imminent ending against which each human being's right to continued life must measured. Like there's no starvation for food, for water, for reason or hope or faith or life.
People are just... existing, and they're saying things to each other, and they plant gardens, and.... it's not the end of the world.
He doesn't really know how to act like that. He only knows what he wants to ask right now, and so he asks it.
"What do feed those plants with?"
no subject
Date: 2026-04-13 03:11 am (UTC)The vermiculture's as often Wurmpleculture as anything else.The shit, meanwhile, speaks for itself. Pokemon eat, Pokemon shit. No one usually dwells on that fact.
no subject
Date: 2026-04-14 03:05 am (UTC)"What's in the compost?"
Just asking. You know. A normal question. This is a normal question.
It's not like he's acting nervous. He's not. He's serious, but he's calm--at least externally; the bright pools of light that are his eyes swirl steadily.
no subject
Date: 2026-04-14 03:23 pm (UTC)Umemiya shrugs slightly, not understanding why it's even a question.
"Weeds from the gardens, those end up cut up and put in the compost, too."
no subject
Date: 2026-04-14 07:45 pm (UTC)The words drop out of his mouth with an edge of anger that he doesn't hide. It doesn't occur to him that he should.
This wasn't what he came for--he came to find out where the bodies came from, or how they were supplying enough nourishment for the plants otherwise. But now--
no subject
Date: 2026-04-14 07:52 pm (UTC)Though that reaction makes Umemiya wonder where Simon would sit on the whole hunting debate. It's probably best not to introduce that line of thinking quite yet.
cw here comes the corpse talk
Date: 2026-04-14 11:39 pm (UTC)He's not great at words, and struggles for a second before he finally finds the one he wants. "--disgusting!"
That's it, really. That's what he feels. Which, normally, wouldn't be something on offer--and he realises quickly that he probably overstepped.
"I mean--sure, there's enough, okay, I get that, and that's... that's great. It is." But.
It's still so wrong, to him.
It does, however... answer his question. In a very slowly-loading, background kind of way. His next words are quieter--almost an undertone meant only for himself.
"...I guess if there's that much, you don't need bodies...."
no subject
Date: 2026-04-14 11:45 pm (UTC)"No, never. For one thing, meat rots at a very different rate, and attracts vermin--in this world, that'd be wild Pokemon from the forest--long before it rots enough to get used as compost. Vegetable matter breaks down quicker and cleaner, and also stinks less! Like, I can see using bonemeal for nitrogen fixing in the soil, but there's no way we'd use bodies just for compost."
no subject
Date: 2026-04-14 11:57 pm (UTC)"'Just' for compost?" he echoes.
no subject
Date: 2026-04-15 12:17 am (UTC)He's made his peace with that fact; hell, he's even gone hunting a couple times himself. But he understands why others would be weirded out by it.
"And any eggs in food, those come from Pokemon, too, though those are more often donated by 'mons living in town."
no subject
Date: 2026-04-15 04:21 am (UTC)"And that's just fucking fine to you? Eating--aren't they people? You're eating people." He feels insane. Which isn't unusual--he feels unhinged, feels out of control all the time. It happens again and again, and the rest of the time he's helpless. He tries. He kept trying, but he had his purpose and his orders, and he served the Father, his Brothers, the Tree, and God.
And now--
Now? He's completely fucking lost, and he feels like it.
"Like animals," Simon puts it together. "Like actual fucking--animals." Fuck. Fuck!!
no subject
Date: 2026-04-15 04:30 am (UTC)It's an honest question. Umemiya's not interested in fighting with anyone who won't have an open mind on this topic. But he's also not ashamed of where he sits in the whole thing, as someone who, yeah, does hunt.
no subject
Date: 2026-04-15 04:51 am (UTC)"I'm not indignant," he says, finally. His voice is mostly deadpan, but there's an exaggerated bluntness, like he's frustrated--or exasperated. "I'm confused."
And then, quieter: "'s different."
If he was a little bit less upset, he might be able to acknowledge that he is at least kind of indignant, because the line this guy is drawing doesn't make any fucking sense. But being indignant isn't allowed.
no subject
Date: 2026-04-15 05:02 am (UTC)"You're not wrong, when you say it's like animals. Here's the thing: we're like animals, too. Out in the wild, it's normal, natural for Pokemon to hunt and forage. You'll see a Froakie stick out its tongue and catch a Butterfree, or a pack of Houndour chasing after a Stantler. If I go out hunting something alone, and I fuck up and get myself killed, my body wouldn't go to waste. Scavenging Mandibuzz would eat my flesh. To make the choice to hunt is to choose to actively participate in this world, rather than trying to hold onto every last scrap of my humanity and make the world conform to me. We're already leaving a big mark on this world, building settlements on what used to be wild land. I want to be thoughtful about trying to hold myself apart from the world I'm in now."
He shakes his head, holding up one of his paws.
"There's a friend I made, early on in my time here. Before he arrived in the Bay, he was a cat. Like, a stray cat, the kind who hunts rats and pigeons in the wild. The first time I went on a hunt, it was to feed him, when he'd just gotten out of the clinic, too weak to get his own 'freshkill', as he put it. Because he had only ever eaten animals, you know? I know we're all bringing the mindset of the world we came from with us. Can't help not to. But it's not the default, here."
CW cult upbringing
Date: 2026-04-15 09:11 pm (UTC)Uh....
You know what, let's skip that metaphor.
But they flow over him, around him, and even through him. He understands what's being said, nominally at the very least. He knows most of the words, and the ones he doesn't--which is actually quite a few--he can navigate well enough through context. X catches Y with its tongue. A pack of G chases after H. Animals eating animals. He's not from the COI, he doesn't understand all the scientific details of the world that they claim to. But he's not stupid. He's not completely clueless.
What he gets out of this explanation is this: the guy he is talking to uses a lot of words. He thinks that he and Simon are invaders, somehow. He 'chooses' to 'actively participate' in 'this world,' which sounds kind of meaningless to Simon but it means a lot to the guy.
And... that whatever Simon thinks--like whatever this guy thinks, and whatever this guy's friend-cat thinks--is wrong, here. That if he doesn't obey this place's rules, that's his choice. But it's the wrong one.
Putting up buildings and living like a human being is wrong, but they still do it.
And he gardens to feed people who want to act like humans, but he doesn't do it himself? That part is a little murkier, but it's all just a lot to take in, a lot to try and understand and follow and process and.... and what? Simon isn't sure what it is he's supposed to do with all this information. The guy didn't tell him that part. So he sits--or rather, floats--in place, staring at Umemiya silently and with no real clear expression on his blank light-and-energy face, a face set agaiy still do it.
And he gardens to feed people who want to act like humans, but he doesn't do it himself? That part is a little murkier, but it's all just a lot to take in, like a sermon. A sermon, he knows what a sermon is, how the Father spoke and he listened, they all listened. He and his Brothers, and then--
And then what? Simon isn't sure what. The guy didn't tell him that part.
So he sits--or rather, floats--obediently in place. And when it's over, he stays there, staring back at Umemiya silently. There's no clear expression on his blank light-and-energy face. Solemn, serious, like he was in fact listening... but passive. Blank.
no subject
Date: 2026-04-16 01:20 am (UTC)"...dude, are you alright?"
This is much less of a speech, isn't it?