At last disembarking the vessel, Elias couldn’t for a moment deny that the world felt good. The sun hit right in the way that he knew would give his skin a pleasant tan, the air had enough brine and humidity to let one know the sea was always near without makings ones nostrils stuffed with moisture or salination. But as he stared at the tropics through the gap in his facewrap, two facts quickly became apparent to him. First, he certainly wouldn’t be able to enjoy it in a meaningful way. Muscular lifeguards with gelled hair would force him off of any of the beaches that weren’t covered with trash, and even if they didn’t his form in swimshorts would still lead to mothers hastily leading children away shortly after the sound of screams and tears with the occasional threat from other people. The second of course, was that the world wasn’t so great. A person he took and educated guess was homeless was wandering and screaming about the krill being a scam, while parts of the first street he stepped on smelled like urine. “What a shithole.” he muttered, or at least made vague mouth movements with that goal that materialized no sound. 

Strolling down the street, he was long used to the looks he was getting. People in crocs and flipflops saw a massive man in flannels and a balaclava on a tropical world like this, what the hell else were they supposed to think? No Elias had long since given up on any frustration with such public admonitions of his state. He knew some other people with mutilations always complained about how they were treated, but as far as he was concerned if you were a freak you ought be treated as one. It was unfortunate, but it was a reality he figured a lot would be better off accepting.

Unfortunately, he was about to have this stoic philosophy tested. 

His wounds started to itch ever so slightly as salty sweat started to seep into the scars as he went about the city, following maps to find the nearest bank. The moment he stepped into it, a security guard instantly drew his service weapon and started screaming for the man to get down on the ground. Muffled sounds came from Elias, the man desperately trying to give hand signs in the hope he knew was vain the man would know sign language to state he was not in fact, a robber. It was at the gesture of [i]criminal[/i] that he felt the harpooning penetration of a tase in his black. The shock was an excruciating and debilitating pain that brought him to a knee. But, it was also absolutely nothing compared to the pains that the reavers brought upon him. When at last the shock wore off, he tore it out and stood up with his hands upraised. The guards now approached him, the one that had shot him with a taser from behind patting him down whilst the one in front held his firearm pointed. As he was patted down, the taser guard found almost nothing but a little pocket-sand on him, and quizzically shared the information to his partner.

“Who the hell are you?”


Elias reached down to try and get his piece of blackboard, but the guns were raised again leading to the man simply sighing. As far as he saw there was no exit out of this situation he could take, so he waited until they were annoyed enough to take him to the small on-site jail of the bank and called police. Sighing yet again, he at last raised his hands and with one motion pulled the wrappings off of his face revealing the horrid mutilation. “[i]I hahn hah.[/i]” he said, doing his best to articulate that he couldn’t talk with no tongue. As if to demonstrate he opened his mouth wide and revealed the distinct lack of one. “Jesus fucking….” one of them started, recoiling in horror. “Shit, I’da thought you wouldn’t be able to hear like that either the other said.

With some annoyance Elias carefully raised the cloth again to his face, cocking his head to ask for permission to make the quite sudden movements to cover himself up again. “Yeah yeah.” the taser bearing man said, holstering the device.

“What the hell is up with you?” the man still holding the pistol said. This time however, Elias reached down to the blackboard without interruption and wrote upon it the words: “I WAS HOPING TO ACCESS AND OLD BANK ACCOUNT. I CANT TALK AND COVER MYSELF UP TO NOT FRIGHTEN FOLK.” 

“Well why the hell didn’t you bring any ID?” the gun bearing man said, slowly lowering the weapon as he relaxed.

After a brief spat with erasing, Elias revealed new words. “DONT HAVE ANY. WAS STOLEN.”

The guards exchanged glances before giggling. “No ID? You’re probably not going to get far with that.”

The piece of chalk in Elias’s hand turned entirely into dust as an outlet for his frustrations. 

“PLEASE HELP ME.” he wrote.

With a sigh, one of the guards said “Alright, I guess I can take you to a manager. Special case or whatever. Jed get Sal down here to cover for me.”

“Roger-roger.” the other guard said, as Elias was lead to an office. After a brief explanation to the manager, the old man in a suit clasped his hands. “Oh. I see, most peculiar. Erm… can you tell me a name so we can try accessing your account?”

“ELIAS SAMIR RIEMEN.” 

“Thank you….” the main trailed off, typing the words into his computer. “Uh… could you please?” the manager said, motioning to Elias’s mask, while turning the screen. “You see I need to try to verify its you.” 

“Fuh.” Elias muttered. He knew he looked nothing like his pretty face all those years ago. Well, pretty was a stretch by far. But certainly it was compared to this day! 

“Ugh….” the manager said, staring at Elias’s grievous damage. “Does… does it hurt?” he said, clearly mesmerized and distracted from his work. Elias simply gave him a furious stare, wasting another few cents of chalk that turned to powder in his grasp. 

“Right, umm, sorry, you look nothing like this picture. Now, hold on.” he said, pressing a few keys that made a camera emerge from the desk. A painful flashed briefly blinded Elias, who looked furiously at the manager.

“Oh, my apologies.” the man said. “Forgot to ask for consent and all that. Regardless, let’s see here….” he said, the monitor of his computer displaying that a quick cross-reference of modern and old Elias’s visages was happening. 

“Hmmm… its a possible match but…. Do you happen to remember a password?” he said, turning the computer around.

Thankfully, Elias remembered it. Unfortunately, though briefly the screen displayed acceptance, he was shortly after informed on the screen it was outdated and would need other verification. He planted his face down onto the keyboard, severely of the keys crunching under the force. He knew this was just the start of it, he just knew.