Hacking - Public Opinion

The streets of Sermos were busy, like any other day. Cars honked in the streets, people and paralogos rushed to wherever they needed to go, as if they were going to run out of time. Nobody was paying attention to what was going around them, only focused on themselves, which resulted in a lot of bumping and grunting from everyone. At the side of a street, surprisingly empty, contrasting its surroundings, sat an older man in a wheelchair, looking around him, watching the stories of Sermos.

Þorolfur enjoyed just sitting down and wondering what everyone was up to, what unique lives they led and what was so important that they had to rush to. He’s learned that paralogos tend to be more careful in the streets, looking around their surroundings and trying to avoid the rushing people. He assumed it was because they were smaller, often overlooked by the people around them, easy to be trampled in the crowd. Unlike most people, Þorolfur paid close attention to the little creatures, not only because he didn’t have to look down on them, but also because he took them more as equals. He knew that a lot of people didn’t believe paralogos, let alone whifflings, should be considered equal to humans, but he couldn’t understand why. Paralogos aren't pets that they have to care for, they are colleagues, friends, workers, whose jobs are just as important for the world as anyone else’s. He couldn’t imagine his life without his paralogos and whiffling companions. They helped him run the museum, but more importantly, they were his friends. They took care of him when he needed him, they understood him, joked around with him, discussed plans for the museum and its exhibitions, oftentimes having the best ideas that would attract the most visitors. His life would have been so much less without these creatures that a lot of people seemed to want to ignore.

In the corner of his eye, Þorolfur spotted a quick small shadow. He turned his head, but he couldn’t see anything unusual, just masses of rushing feet and tails. Maybe he just imagined it…-no, there it was again! A small silhouette, dark, with a hood over itself. Were it not for his advantage of seeing the world from a lower point, there’s no chance he would have noticed this creature. Now he was sure it was a paralogos, though he couldn’t identify any characteristic features about them. They looked more like a shadow, quickly passing through the shuffling feet. It was clear to Þorolfur that this paralogos didn’t want to be outside, in the busy streets of Sermos, surrounded by so many others, being subjected to the eyes of everyone. This paralogos wanted to be hidden, and Þorolfur realised that not only did they try to avoid the eyes of people and paralogos in the street, but also the cameras installed on the poles and buildings. The paralogos avoided the views of the cameras as if it knew exactly what they saw and what blindspots they had. Þorolfur found himself being impressed and intrigued, wondering if this paralogos was maybe in trouble. He thought about approaching the nervous creature, but decided against it, as he was aware he would never be quick enough to make it to them with their fast pace and his slow wheelchair in the street that wasn’t exactly accessible, especially when busy, even though the city council would never admit so. And even if he somehow magically managed to approach them, what then? The paralogos looked like it would run away the moment someone noticed them in the best scenario, or making sure no one can chase after them in the worse one. Still, Þorolfur wished he could help them if they needed it.

In the meantime, the paralogos had managed to cross the street and Þorolfur could see a silver bracelet on their left wrist and see that their tail had lights in the shape of some symbols. He wondered if the bracelet had anything to do with their word-focus or if it was just decorative. He’d met many paralogos in his life, some which had their looks solely based around their word, and some that would dress and decorate themselves in all kinds of items, just to look the way they wanted to, regardless of their word. Þorolfur wondered what word this paralogos might have, but there was no way to guess from the hood and the glimpse of a tail. 

Suddenly the paralogos’ head jolted up and Þorolfur saw green eyes meeting his, pupils widening in shock. As quickly as their head looked up, the paralogos turned around and disappeared, as if they were never there in the first place. Þorolfur didn’t even have a chance to react, to call out for the paralogos to wait, or to assure them that he meant no harm. They were gone.

It was clear that this paralogos didn’t want to be seen, and Þorolfur assumed that they were usually very successful. He wondered if they often roam the streets, unnoticed by everything and everyone. What an interesting life to have, being invisible to everyone around them. Þorolfur couldn’t help but feel wonder about this paralogos that he will probably never see again.