shenanibyte

[shenanibyte]

Guys, I think I just stumbled across some unused dialogue...

[shenanibyte]

Everytime the Editor mentions Polyblank ;)

HUUUUGEE thanks to @bangobeep for the voice clips rips!!

[shenanibyte]

Ok! Hear me out for your redeem Editor AU...

drum role... 🥁🥁🥁

Poly discovering the Editor has freckles

ANONNNNN-

The Editor, fresh out of a hot shower and dressed in Polyblank’s loungewear, joined the Nexus agent on his living room couch. His face, now adorned with freckles and blemishes due to scrubbing off layers of makeup, was free of its usual polish. His hair, no longer slicked back, hung naturally. Tufts of hair cupped his face.

Polyblank brought home takeout, dropping by the Electric Squid after his mission, and with that, the two settled in to watch some mind-numbing TV in silence.

That is until the Editor caught something out of the corner of his eye: Polyblank was staring at him.

He raised an eyebrow, swallowing the piece of sushi in his mouth, “What? Do I have a piece of rice stuck to my lip or something?”

Polyblank shook his head and leaned in dangerously close before tapping one of the Editor’s freckles with the end of his chopstick.

The Editor scoffed, giving Polyblank a playful shove. “Alright, alright,” he said with a smirk. “I’m not as perfect as I look.”

“Still, even without getting all gussied up, I look leagues better than you ever could.”

[shenanibyte]

I think the idea of Editor being redeemed is very appealing!! Props to you again for the peak characterization. I was thinking that it'd be fun if, even after redemption and all that, there was still something kinda off about him! He does admit in game that he enjoyed killing some drifter; he also WAS the Murder, Kidnappings and Potpourri guy. I feel like it'd be kinda hard for all of that to disappear in a mere change of heart. Do you have any thoughts on what exactly goes on in his head post-redemption?

Ah, thank you!!!

As much as I'd love to see the Editor become a permanent fixture in Nexus, teaming up with Polyblank in an unlikely yet endearing duo, it was always doomed to fail. Just because Polyblank dragged his sorry ass off the streets before he became drenched mincemeat doesn’t mean the Editor would suddenly have a change of heart.

He was in this mess because of Polyblank, damn it!

So, to me, the Editor’s whole “redemption arc" is less about turning over a new leaf and more about swallowing his pride and biding his time. Once he regains his strength and pulls himself out of his funk, he'll return to his former glory: feared, calculating, and ready to remind the Syndicate exactly why they should have never underestimated him!

That said, just because his MAIN motivation for joining Nexus was to drag the entire Syndicate down to hell with him doesn’t mean his bond with Polyblank was entirely fake. For the first time, they’re on the same side, and they were winning. Winning! And the Editor has to admit:

"That damn Nexus agent isn't half bad..."

Still, if the Syndicate came crawling back to him, not out of remorse, but because they finally realized he was enabling Polyblank to outmaneuver them, he’d take the offer in a heartbeat. Yes, he remembers how cruelly they treated him, how they dumped him out as if he was trash, but the power, the fortune, the authority he once held...

It's intoxicating.

And now, it’s being returned to him on a silver platter, no strings attached.

So he’d take it. He'd probably muttering something cheesy while doing so like, “Well, Polyblank, it’s been fun. But you’ve got to admit, orange does suit me.”

And if, against all odds, he doesn’t accept the Syndicate’s offer? He wouldn’t stick around Nexus much longer anyway. Mary would eventually leave Syndicate of her own accord, and the two of them? They’d form a duo of their own.

And as for the Editor’s more… destructive actions/habits, they were part of the reason the Syndicate eventually caught on to his involvement with Polyblank.

He had been working from the shadows, subtly aiding Polyblank in dismantling the Syndicate’s operations. He knew the blind spots, the surveillance gaps, the places they never thought to look, and he exploited them beautifully. But while Polyblank preferred mischief and clever subversion to brute force, the Editor often found himself bristling with impatience.

There were plenty of missions that could have gone far more smoother—CLEANER—if Polyblank had just resorted to violence. Still, the Editor held his tongue.

That is, until one day, when his restraint finally snapped. In broad daylight, he lashed out and beat a Syndicate operative senseless, right there on the street. Polyblank had to pull him off.

He didn’t care. It wasn’t like they’d recognize him anyway. (Spoilers: They did... Eventually.)

But in that moment, he wasn’t just hitting a Syndicate grunt, he was unleashing all his pent-up rage against the entire organization.

In his mind, that lone operative became the Syndicate: the faceless hierarchy that cast him aside, the system that chewed him up and spat him out. Every punch wasn’t just vengeance, it was catharsis.

[shenanibyte]

Oh don't mind me!

I just realized that in my Redeemed!Editor AU, the Editor's persistent refusal of Polyblank’s hospitality (offering him a hot shower and a spare set of clothes) and his insistence on staying in his tattered Syndicate suit represent two things.

Number One: it showcases his usual arrogance. He’s not used to handouts...Well, he is, but only when they come after threatening someone with the end of his bloodied baseball bat. Back in the Syndicate, he had power, money, and influence. Hell, he could practically buy Japanda if he wanted to. So why should he stoop so low as to accept charity from Polyblank, of all people? In his mind, if he accepts the offer, he's admitting weakness—something completely unacceptable! He spent too long presenting himself as a figure of authority to risk showing even a glimpse of vulnerability now.

Number Two: it’s symbolic. That sorry excuse for a suit, torn, stained, and perhaps reeking of sewer water, is more than fabric.

It’s a mirror of the Syndicate itself.

Oh, how the suit used to be sleek, pristine, and untouchable, just as the organization presented itself to the public. But within the walls of the Syndicate, it was a different story. Yet, no matter how disgusting it got, how cruelly the Syndicate treated him, the Editor still clings to it like a child to a safety blanket. Because, despite everything, it’s his last sense of familiarity.

It’s his last connection to the only life he’s ever known. Letting it go would mean accepting that the Syndicate is gone for him, and that who he was is gone with it.

So, when he finally takes up Polyblank's offer and steps into the shower, he literally, LITERALLY sheds his former skin, washing away his title, past, and everything the Syndicate represented.

For the first time, he’s not the Editor. He’s just… him.

[shenanibyte]

Redraw from like 2 years ago! Here is my heavily headcanoned Editor

[shenanibyte]

hello yet again jazzpunk fandom. would this feasibly happen? no. i do as i please though and i think it's funny so you MUST see it

[shenanibyte]

Ok! Hear me out for your redeem Editor AU...

drum role... 🥁🥁🥁

Poly discovering the Editor has freckles

ANONNNNN-

The Editor, fresh out of a hot shower and dressed in Polyblank’s loungewear, joined the Nexus agent on his living room couch. His face, now adorned with freckles and blemishes due to scrubbing off layers of makeup, was free of its usual polish. His hair, no longer slicked back, hung naturally. Tufts of hair cupped his face.

Polyblank brought home takeout, dropping by the Electric Squid after his mission, and with that, the two settled in to watch some mind-numbing TV in silence.

That is until the Editor caught something out of the corner of his eye: Polyblank was staring at him.

He raised an eyebrow, swallowing the piece of sushi in his mouth, “What? Do I have a piece of rice stuck to my lip or something?”

Polyblank shook his head and leaned in dangerously close before tapping one of the Editor’s freckles with the end of his chopstick.

The Editor scoffed, giving Polyblank a playful shove. “Alright, alright,” he said with a smirk. “I’m not as perfect as I look.”

“Still, even without getting all gussied up, I look leagues better than you ever could.”

[shenanibyte]

Just saw your post regarding Redeemed!Editor and AAAAAAAA HOLY SHIT?!

Do you have any more ideas regarding the au, perhaps the other members of Syndicate, oh! and perhaps WHY Polyblank took him in?

AAAAH THANK YOU! I'm still experimenting with how I want Syndicate to be structured, but here are some key takeaways:

With the Editor being the head of the Syndicate's Western Sector, it only made sense for there to be Northern, Southern, and Eastern heads as well! I mean, c'mon!!

While I haven't thought about WHO would be in charge of the other sectors, I do know that I want them to have a 'rock-paper-scissors' dynamic. Each head might have something the others lack, but at the same time, they might lack something that the others can compensate for.

For example, the Editor is a pompous playboy. He's flashy, attention-seeking, and indulgent in the affection and affirmations of others. Meanwhile, another sector head may prefer keeping to themselves and staying out of the limelight. They’d rather stick to their ready-to-go, cut-and-dry plan without sprinkling in any unnecessary, elaborate theatrics. Oh, and they also prefer NOT DRAWING ANY UNWANTED ATTENTION TO THEMSELVES!

Additionally, since there are four heads, I think it would be neat to assign each of them a suit from a deck of cards (hearts, clubs, spades, and diamonds). But if that becomes too convoluted, a distinct color scheme would work just as well! :)

I'm also trying to have their titles end in -or!

The Syndicate food chain goes: Agents < Sector Heads < Director.

How do agents get assigned to a sector, you might ask? Well, I’ll tell you! I have three ideas: Number one! ou’re assigned to which sector you’re closest to. Number two! You’re placed under the sector head whose skills, traits, or vibe you best match. Annnnnd number three! It's simply just random.

The Sector Heads are DEFINITELY a found family, no matter how messy their relationship might get. Trust me, it's MESSY.

As for the Director, I wanted to make her a complete foil to Nexus. She’s harsh, cunning, sharp-tongued, and unrelenting. She runs the Syndicate with an iron fist. There’s no “Improvise, I know you’ll do well,” and definitely no “We’ll get them next time, tiger.” She expects results—EXCELLENT ONES—and if you come back a failure, you’re punished.

Additionally, she has no problem pitting the sector heads against one another to increase productivity. One week, she might declare a favorite, stirring jealousy and driving the others to work even harder just to outdo them. Does she care for them?… not really… She sees them more as tools than anything. Valuable, yes, but ultimately replaceable. (JUST LIKE THE EDITOR-)

Also, Nexus’ and Syndicate’s Directors totally dated back in the day, and their breakup was CATASTROPHIC.

As for why Polyblank rescued the Editor, he couldn’t find it in his heart to let him rot. Sure, he finds the Editor a nuisance, a typical villain of the week, but he doesn’t hate him. Not really.

Also, it's important to consider how different Nexus handles victories/failures when compared to Syndicate

When put against Polyblank, the Editor has been thwarted more times than he’d care to admit. Sure, he’s had his wins, but they’re few and far between and relatively small.

When Polyblank comes out victorious, he's often gets a pat on the back and a small, sometimes bizarre token of appreciation from his Director. Meanwhile, when the Editor returned to his Director after a loss, he was usually met with scolding, punishment, or both.

But what about when he did win?

That's still no reason to celebrate. That's what expected from him. The bare minimum.

So it’s a genuine shock to Polyblank when he finds the Editor in such a broken state. He never imagined the punishment would be so brutal. He always assumed their little cat-and-mouse game was just that, a game. When Polyblank failed, his Director would tell him to cheer up, saying, “We’ll get them next time.”

He thought the same rules applied across the board… but looking down at the Editor now, he realizes

they don’t.

[shenanibyte]

Guys, how we feeling about my Redeemed!Editor AU:

Due to the Editor's incompetence in defeating Polyblank on multiple occasions, he's essentially been fired from the Syndicate, losing his title, power, riches, everything.

Of course, when discarded like rubbish onto the dark, rainy streets, he knows how to defend himself. Sure, he might not have any high-tech gadgets or gizmos, his cyborg henchmen no longer answer his call, and he doesn't even have a plain metal bat or brass knuckles—but he never truly needed any of that before the Syndicate days. All he ever needed were his hands.

He's able to fend for himself for quite some time. However, as more and more people the Editor has wronged crawl out of the woodwork, each wanting him squashed like a bug, just as the Syndicate treated them or smashed like some sort of morbid piñata, he can't keep up. He narrowly manages to escape into an alleyway, seeking shelter from the rain and the scorching pain lighting up his body like a Christmas tree before finally passing out.

And that's where Polyblank comes in.

Sure, seeing one of the Syndicate’s former sector heads crumpled up like a discarded, soggy gum wrapper, smug grin wiped clean off his face, might be a cause for celebration. But not for Polyblank. Instead, he picks the Editor up bridal style and carries him to his humble abode.

The next morning, the Editor regains consciousness, het he's a bit disoriented, confused about where he is.

A warm cozy apartment?

A warm cozy bed?

Is he dead?

That’s what he thinks until the pieces click as he explores the apartment and spots the thorn in his side: Polyblank, fast asleep on the living room couch.

Great.

Y'know what? He'd rather be in hell.

When Polyblank eventually wakes up, the Editor immediately starts blabbering. He asks why Polyblank “rescued” him off the street, rambling about how he’s going to turn him into Nexus, or how Polyblank just wanted to steal the final blow for himself because he's too cheap to let someone else have it. But Poly quickly shuts him up—placing a finger over his lips and shaking his head.

It turns out that Polyblank genuinely wanted to keep him safe.

The Editor can’t wrap his head around it! If the roles were reversed, he would’ve turned himself in just for the praise. And oh, how he YEARNS praise. So, despite Polyblank trying his best; cooking for him, letting him shower, lending him clothes, and taking the couch while the Editor sleeps in his bed, the Editor remains suspicious.

He’s convinced Poly is leading him on, waiting for the right moment to turn him in.

He debates sneaking out in the middle of the night. He’s pretty sure he remembers Mary’s address. But then he remembers all those guys out there...

Waiting, salivating for a chance to beat him to a pulp, and he's in no condition to defend himself. So he decides to stay a few more days, just enough to milk Polyblank’s "hospitality" before making his great escape.

...So, um, that great escape?

Never happens.

He eventually settles. He becomes comfortable in Polyblank’s presence. He starts opening up by dropping Syndicate secrets here and there. He can’t help it; he needs someone to ramble to. He rants about how unprofessional their business practices are. And oh, how they fumbled someone important—himself!

Later on, his bitterness toward the Syndicate becomes a weapon. He reveals upcoming plans to Polyblank and the Director, intel that might expose the locations of other Syndicate agents and sector heads.

And for that, he's recognized. Fully recognized.

After their first successful mission together, Polyblank even brings him a small cake! The Editor can’t help but love the feeling. The warmth that flows through his body, the genuine enthusiasm he hasn’t seen in years.

So he keeps helping. He stays.

Eventually, he ditches “the Editor” title altogether. He either starts going by his real name (Elroy, in my case) or a codename Polyblank makes up for him. Even his style changes. No more suits or polished hair, just casual clothes that actually let him breathe.

But, of course, not everything is hunky-dory.

One day, he runs into another Syndicate Head. And they don’t mince words. They mock him—for helping a lowly Nexus agent. For growing soft. For changing. For becoming a shadow of what the Editor used to be.

[shenanibyte]

Nobody:

Polyblank: Please, Pointblank was my father

[shenanibyte]

AAAAA LOVED READING ONE OF YOUR EDITOR HCS! GOT ANYMORE SELF INDULGENT ONES

I guess one of my indulgent headcanons for the Editor would have to be that he's not as above sweets and junk foods as he claims to be:

Being one of the four sector heads at Syndicate, a well-known model, and an overall Playboy, he has a reputation to uphold. He's always, in the public's eyes, practically a damn spectacle; be it through billboards, magazines, physical presence, or by word-of-mouth. The point is that he's constantly walking on eggshells, trying to appeal to the public, and mainly himself, that he's the epitome of class, luxury, and desire.

Something to be both feared and envied.

But after so many years as "the Editor," the eggshells have worn thin, with the role coming naturally now, almost second nature. And with that, he slowly begins to loosen up, even if just by a little.

Sure, he and Mary could dine at any fine establishment Japanda has to offer. Hell! They could buy them out and send everyone home more money than they’d make in their entire lives. Not to mention, he has plenty of robotic servants at his beck and call, ready to fulfill his refined palette (late-night cravings), no matter how absurd and tedious it might be.

However, sometimes, he yearns for normalcy, craving a mere taste of who he used to be.

So, on his days off, he would lounge in his bachelor pad, shedding his professional persona in exchange for tousled hair and pajamas. He'd order takeout or raid his cabinets for sweets, all while watching sickly sweet soap operas with a level of investment he'd never confess to.

And once his cabinet empties, he'd make late-night grocery runs to Flavour Nexus himself. He could send his servants, of course, but they often proved to be too... incompetent for the mundane task. They always come back with the wrong flavor...

BONUS POINTS for the Editor trying to disguise his simple cravings as something 'extraordinary' to the public's eye and Polyblank's.

I.E. describing a s’more as a delicate confection where two crisp, honeyed biscuits cradle a glob of perfectly roasted vanilla meringue, all enveloped by a molten cocoa infusion.

[shenanibyte]

WE OWN YOU!!

[shenanibyte]

I LOVE JAZZPUNK!!!!!!

whenever I need to do something I can’t help but quote “Improvise, I know you’ll do well by me, Polyblank.”

what’s your favorite gag/joke in the game? and quote??

AAAAA ME TOOO!!!

I remember being twelve, TWELVE when Jazzpunk first came out ten years ago, and I absolutely adored it!

Like- I was completely smitten by this charming lil' indie game!

Sadly, the fandom was practically nonexistent back then (shout out to Neko343 for carrying the entire fandom on their shoulders!), so it was just me, a handful of friends, and a lone notebook in which I drew fanart and wrote fanfiction in.

Now, fast-forward to 2025, and amid a group hangout, I suddenly remember the game's existence. I scurry home and frantically pull up a let's play to see if the game holds up and IT DOES!

OH HOW IT DOES!

I fell HARD.... again, and the cherry on top? There's an actual fandom this time filled with a bunch of talented people!!!

But that's enough rambling; as for my favorite gag, I can't merely pick just one! Can Polyblank, in their entirety, count as my answer? They're just such an interesting character!

They're the living embodiment of "never let your opponent know your next move." If two roads diverged in the middle of the woods, Polyblank would take the secret third path and return soaking wet, with a comically large lollipop, a piece from one of Saturn's moons, and top-secret government coordinates.

I guess one of my favorite scenes would have to be the tennis match with the Editor. Sure, you can win or lose the match to progress the game, OR you can just pick up a chair and beat him with it!

[shenanibyte]

Remember the phrase: "What happens in Kai Tak, STAYS in Kai Tak."

Do yuo think they explired eahc ohters bidies here.....

[shenanibyte]

This may be the most sickeningly sweet headcanon I've ever written, but who cares

The Editor has freckles.

The Editor has freckles, and yet nobody knows but him.

Well, except maybe Mary, but that’s beside the point.

As the head of the Western Syndicate sector and a frequent face in magazine covers and billboards, the Editor has a reputation to uphold. He must be imposing, capable of inducing fear into the heart of his adversaries with an icy glare. Yet, he must be alluring — a tall, polished figure with an enigmatic charm that draws in potential suitors with a brief flash of his teeth.

Freckles, however, have no place in that carefully constructed image.

Before applying a generous glob of foundation to his face, one might mistake him for a speckled robin’s egg. The array of brown specks that dusted his cheeks and nose bridge gave him an air of youthful naivety. One he loathed. The Editor had always despised his freckles, convinced they made him look soft. Childish. Unfit for the fearsome reputation he had meticulously built.

And perhaps they made him look vulnerable?

Feel vulnerable?

Was the Editor… Insecure?

Pfft, of course not!

The Editor was undoubtedly the most pompous, self-absorbed bastard ever to grace Japanda’s streets. Not a day goes by when countless men and women would grovel at his feet, drooling over his pristine oxfords for the slightest amount of attention.

Even after his dirtiest works, when he’d return to his bachelor’s pad, exhausted, suit turned and marinated in blood, hair disheveled, with fresh cuts adorning his now multicolored face, others still lusted after him.

Bruises and all.

He could TOTALLY pull freckles off if he wants to. Hell, he could probably start a trend.

But he doesn’t.

So, each morning, the Editor dedicates himself to exhaustively layering foundation over his skin, concealing every speck, blemish, and imperfection. His fingertips worked overtime to sculpt himself into an untouchable figure, a flawless figure — almost godlike — for the public to admire, fear, and desire. And until his head sinks into his velvety pillow, he reminds himself why.

It’s all a part of his job.

No. It’s a part of his reputation.

Because the Editor has freckles.

And yet, nobody knows but him.