#Isola Event: Subversion pt2

[crimsonverses]

                  Evening was only their waking time, Crow wakes up truly afternoon. He is a nocturnal being, after all-- naturally he’d start walking around the city at such times. Only to have his eyes play a little magic trick. Crow squints off into the sunset to find... copies of ShinganCrimsonZ running off into another ward--- Cotes ward. Crow snaps a photo (blurry, to say the least, unlike the other ones talent in taking pictures) and moves to the chatroom with his bandmates, fingers typing like a maniac about how he just found some fakers

                  [ Crow at 5pm in ShinganCrimsonZ chat ]                   > (CROW ATTACHED AN IMG)                   > Dude what the fuck!!                    > Did y’all see another me?! Why is there two Roms and Yaibas and Aions!!!!                   > !!!!!!!!                   > What the fuck!!! What the FUCK!!!

@goldenbass @azuredrums @violetstrings 

[braveryfated]

Alrighty. I briefly mentioned it in the drabble I wrote, yet Haruka has had a run in with a copy of herself in canon before. Said copy tried to kill not only herself, but her friends as well. Because of that entire ordeal, she's incredibly worried that her copy's going to start attacking people. If someone were to approach her, she would try to get them away from her.

But honestly? Her copy's the complete opposite of what she thinks will happen. In reality, she's more scared of Haruka and will run away if she saw her. However, as her stability deteriorates, the more likely she may try to find a weapon or something to fight back, thinking Haruka's trying to harm her.

So, in a sense they're both afraid of each other.

Anyway... In regards to starters, they'll either be with normal Haruka trying to find her copy- or helping others find theirs, the copy trying to hide from Haruka, or both of them just yelling at each other in fear. I'll leave this uncapped for starters and if you have a preference, please let me know.

[sneakthieflupin-blog]

|| Here’s an uncapped Subversion Part II plotting call! Just click that like button, and I’ll pop into your IMs!

[yanagichiri-blog]

         He has nothing to say about the duplicates and would prefer not to speak of them. In fact, he seems far too rattled to speak much at all.

[chalicearrow-blog]

“Are you all right? Have you succeeded in saving yourself?”

[sakyuu]

“Why should I trust you?”

It had been a time-consuming trek through Yesteryear to find his older self. Dune had started to prepare for looking underground when his search for tools led them to cross paths on opposite ends of a desolate street. Dune understood the copy if he wanted to clear his head in the fallen city’s destructive solitude, but beyond that use for his search he didn’t care in the slightest.

“Would I lie to myself?”

“I would,” he answered with a shrug of his shoulders. “From what I’ve seen of your life, so would you.”

Dune smiled pleasantly at his copy. “I wanted to give you a choice, but you don’t really have one. Now, give me a good fight.”

The copy laughed emphatically. “I never thought I’d be threatened by a fake. Amazing!” From his side, he drew out a knife that caught the light of the sunset brilliantly. “But if you really are me, you’ll find out soon how much better I’ve gotten since then.”

Dashing forward with a passionate but human speed, he charged toward Dune with a familiar bloodthirst in his orange eyes. Dune gladly took the challenge, knowing that the inhuman speed on his end made it unfair. His fights against powerful beings made it unfair. There was nothing wrong with playing dirty under multiple threats of death.

While the copy relentlessly tried to lurch in to striking distance, Dune sped just out of his reach around and around a large section of the street. He smiled, quick feet moving as if in a graceful but frantic dance. The one thing he had to worry about was the height and power difference, and tiring the copy out was going to make finishing it uninjured more likely.

The copy said nothing, but he started to bare his teeth halfway through. His wild eyes looked at his younger self with growing contempt, frustrated by being unable to lay a hand on someone for once. A child, no less.

“Aaah, that’s better.” Dune’s smile grew with his audible satisfaction.

“Be quiet!”

His breath grew labored as their dance drew out, his feet slowing later on. Dune could handle it better --- his physically ambitious city exploration kept up his endurance. He allowed the copy in close enough for a strike, and when the knife lunged his way with a vicious “Haaaa!” Dune’s arm shot up to block the copy’s forearm with his. Immediately his free hand shot up to drive his fingers into the copy’s eyes like knives of his own, and the copy inhaled harshly as he reeled backward. Overwhelmed, he dropped to his knees, a hand clutched over his eyes and a death grip still on the knife. As if that would make a difference.

“What an inferior clone you are,” Dune mused, striding forward. Proving the genuine blindness, he was able to get close enough to stomp on the turned hand with the knife, twisting it further with an ugly and violent sound, forcing the weapon to clatter free. Again, the copy only reacted with a sharp inhale, barely a shift from his already uneven breathing.

The silence confirmed they were somehow the same. They’d learned it the same way, for the same reason: to never give the people that hurt them the indicator of weakness they wanted. Even if the copy’s vision was damaged, or if anything had broken in his hand or wrist.

“You… can’t… replace me,” the copy said in a low voice, nails digging into his face around his eyes in frustration.

“Enjoy your happy life,” Dune said with a note of cheer, then spinning to deliver a powerful kick to the side of the copy’s head. The copy dropped to the side from the force, head roughly striking the ground. His hand fell weakly in front of him.  

Already, Dune had his phone out. He opened the new app as instructed --- he’d gotten over the grudging feelings of having to play along with another inane plan during the long search. Now he wanted it over with, so he brought the copy in view and tapped his image on the screen.

Without further ado, the copy was gone where his fingertip had been. When Dune lowered his phone, he was just as gone from the cracked and earthy concrete where he’d been before.

Dune let out a small exhale. Leaning over, he picked up the nice knife his double had left behind. He turned it over, glancing over the smooth metal before tossing it aside. Unlike his copy, it wasn’t the way he fought. He could admit he visually appreciated it, but that was as far as the connection went. It could rust here.

A happy life for that bitter serial killer? A happiness he’d acquired? The acrid taste of those words burned his tongue, but as he turned to leave, he still managed to give a quiet laugh to the vast emptiness of Yesteryear’s nameless street.

[luxidens]

immediately when the message registered, she tapped on the app to find out where her copy had fled to. archimedes ward. of course, she’d be there, she was her after all. there was one place she would hide out in. ❝  savior’s respite.  ❞

[sneakthieflupin-blog]

“A copy?”  Lupin the Third knew this game well. People paraded around as him on the daily back where he came from. But according to this, the rules of the game were a little different. Instead of his ‘copy’ imitating his lifestyle, the double firmly believed he was born and raised here.

And here he thought all of this was just some dream---and it only confirmed what he already knew was true; Lupin doesn’t dream. Turns out all of it was real. Only now, this game had gotten out of hand, and Lupin was tasked with finding his double and bringing him back.

But did he really believe any of this?

Maybe. But not because he trusted the voice, per se. No, he figured that his very existence in this world alone was proof enough that anything was possible.

Lupin tapped on the app the voice mentioned.

He woke with a start. Like a switch, something clicked. Something he couldn’t understand, like something in a foreign or dead language. Suddenly, he had the urge to get creative. Maybe go on a hike. Maybe jump off a cliff---all for some sort of cheap thrill.

He shook his head hard.  ‘Weird...’  Eyes searched the room, locking on neatly folded clothes laid out on top of a dresser on the northern wall. Must be his. He got out of bed and began to dress himself, almost routinely so. Maybe this is normal? He felt off somehow.

He got dressed, admiring himself in the mirror. At least dressing himself in these clothes felt natural. Now what? He moved from room to room, eyes scanning everything they could. Soon, he found himself in the kitchen, eyeing a coffee maker.

Fingers ran over buttons, reading the labels, before a switch was flipped in his head. Like clockwork, he changed the filter, spooned fresh coffee grounds into it, then poured water inside and turned on the pot, waiting patiently for it to brew. Soon, he held a cup of coffee, brewed blacker than the night, steaming from the top.

Confusion riddled his face. What in the world...? He furrowed his brow, trying to comprehend that sudden burst of energy and the results of it. Why was everything so confusing right now? Without so much as a sip of the brew, he set the mug down, a hand raising to his head.

His head was spinning. What was happening? He tried to convince himself that this wasn’t new to him. Tried his damnedest to tell himself it was normal life. But somehow, nothing made sense. Why? He shook his head again, this time heading straight for the door. He paused to tie on his shoes, and grabbed his jacket before heading out.

“Golden Ward, huh? Looks like he’s on the move,”  Lupin stated, looking rather unconcerned. Then, a serious grin spread across his face, brows angling downward with determination. Lupin rose to his feet, allowing them to carry him towards the door.

He threw open the door, stepping outside. Time to wrangle himself a copy!  “Looks like a new game has begun! So, let’s get started on this, shall we, my dear doppelganger?”

[braveryfated]

The second Haruka heard the word copy, she was out the door. With phone in hand, she listened to the rest of the message, trying to think of where to go first to search for this copy. She scowls in pain, her mind still throbbing at the memories which- did they return or were they newly added? Honestly, she already had her own memory issues, she didn't need this chaos thrown into the mix.

Hell, she didn't need running into a copy of herself again, she just hoped this didn't involve a fight.

Arriving at the Arcade, the first place she thought of to look, completely forgetting being told just moments ago that an app now existed for the purpose of finding her copy. She turns around, freezing as she saw her, eyes wide in fear.

"W-Who are you? How... How do you look like me? W-What's going on...?" The resemblance was uncanny, right down to how she reacted to seeing her. That was exactly how she reacted to seeing her copy way back then, although she could scarcely remember what happened after the encounter.

'Haruka? What's going on?' Hearing the voice from her phone, Haruka raised an eyebrow. It sounded familiar, yet she couldn't figure out how or why that voice was familiar. She decided to put the thought aside briefly, thinking it would be best to not to add more confusion.

"This is probably going to be just as stupid to you as it is to me, yet you're a copy of me. Apparently you've been infected with somekind of... virus, and the only way to save us both is if I use this app to send you to like... I dunno I think it's a parallel space or something." She hoped that explaining the entire situation would make things easier, yet she was wrong.

"An app that send people to a parallel space? Don't you think that sounds like a whole lot of nonsense? And besides, why do I have to listen to you, you could be lying to me!" Well. She did have a point, this entire thing seemed like complete nonsense, yet what would happen if she just ignored it? She certainly didn't want to die.

"N-No, I'm just-"

"Shut up! You're lying to me! I'm not a copy! You are! Just... Just leave me alone!" Panicked, Haruka ran off, running away as quickly as she could. Shaking her head a few times, she looks at her phone, opening up the app that showed where the copy was- yet honestly she just opened the app upon realizing it was new.

She was really hoping that she could solve this just by talking with her, yet if she were going to run away everytime she saw her, this may be somewhat difficult.

[chalicearrow-blog]

This meeting suited a forest. Even if his double only carried a camera, seeking to calm a racing heart by taking photos of the new terrain. Even if the meeting was completely amicable, Hajime even offering a small smile.

His double accepted the offer as the truth --- he only wanted to go back to the less chaotic home he knew. He would face it if it meant defending the life he built, but this one belonged to someone else.

“I can’t understand what you’ve been through, but I wish I could take some of that weight with me.”

“Thank you.” It was an impossible sentiment, but the thought meant something to Hajime. “Good luck.”

“You too.”

Hajime raised his phone, centering his double on the screen. The double grinned as if the model for a photo instead, and then the action succeeded in sealing him away.

Lowering it, he stared at the empty spot with an equally empty expression. Was it sealing him? Did even a peaceful him that had never experienced the Battle Royale have to accept that threat? He closed his eyes. A happy life… he could hope his self-preservation hadn’t interfered in that, and had truly saved them both.

His eyes burned. Opening them, he found more than the mist interfering with his vision. Another him had enjoyed a life without carving one of his own out of the Joker. Another him had never had to fight, over and over again, with his sole survival ensuring complete destruction. He had been able to connect with others without the same struggle against his inexperience and doubt. He had been fully human, always, and someday he would die like one.

Hajime was happy for that version of himself, even if it drew out the grief over his own situation that he’d refused to confront. Putting a hand over one side of his face couldn’t hide the heavy tear streaking down the other cheek. He stood like that silently, unable to wish his life had been the same, but the wide chasm was painful anyway.

The calling sounds of bugs and the soft shaking of branches under animal feet filled the silence. He wanted to live, like this. If he wanted it to end, he wouldn’t have tracked his other self down. It meant bearing the burdens of his own life, but the person he was was someone different. It was the only self he had. It wasn’t only his, either: he had to live for others.

He lowered himself to his knees, his free hand pressing into the dry dirt trail. “Forgive me for living a life without knowing the debt I owed you,” he said quietly, to Hikaru Jo, Noboru Shima, and every other Undead that just participated in the battle as it was. He couldn’t let Kanai off without poor feelings, but in the end everyone fell to allow the victor to survive.

He owed too much to Mutsuki Kamijo, and in the end, to Sakuya Tachibana. He owed his humanity to Haruka Kurihara for taking him in. He owed Shin Kurihara for trusting him with the photo he kept with him always. He owed every human that had died in the chaos to keep standing in their place.

Amane and Kenzaki were more than that. Their unconditional affection couldn’t be stripped down to a simple sacrifice for his life or his happiness. Amane wanted to understand and love every part of him, even if she was afraid of Joker’s face. Kenzaki would do anything for him, did do everything for him to save the dear friend he saw in the destructive force. Both had cared to an unbearable extent, but neither had been in his other self’s life at all.

“I’m sorry for living a life without you,” he whispered, and settled his head against the ground as the tears washed over his fingers.