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Dialtown short story - I am Mingus, Mayor of Dialtown (Chapter 1)

(This is the standalone chapter of a multipart story concept featuring Mayor Mingus' rise that I wrote as a warmup! This, ofc, takes place long before she gained a cat's face + her new name! If people like this, I can write more!)

Leaders are not born, they are made. Empires do not rise from sand, but when the time comes, they invariably tumble back into their dust. The day of self-made men, of heroic visionaries, has elapsed and we are what has grown in their ashes. Today is comprised solely of what's left.

In bygone days, LONG before Dialtown's streets were bestowed with a ceaseless inferno… Long before the arrival of a green messiah… The town was dragged back into the present by a lone visionary. An ancient tenet undusted. Once a promise, now an ultimatum. Tomorrow begins today.

A solitary beam of light illuminated the musty nursing home activity room. Slumped in his armchair, a metallic titan gazed longingly at the dancing particles of dust moving through the light coming from the window. The only source of motion in this still place. A creak seeped from the weathered door on the other side of the room and from the dingy expanse on the other side came a young woman dressed in purple.

She lingered in the doorway for a moment, before hesitantly stepping over to the seated man. The soft thud of her cane hitting the carpet punctuated every second footstep. Upon arriving in front of him, she leaned over him, laying a gloved hand over the limp metallic gauntlet sitting on his lap.

"Paw paw…" she whispered, her voice trembling slightly, "It's Michelle. I'm back." Michelle's grandfather didn't stir, his gaze still fixated on the ray of light coming in from outside. "I told you I'd come back." she added, squeezing the gauntlet as if she expected him to somehow feel it, "Don't you remember? I promised." "I've got a PLAN." she declared, raising her right index finger decisively, "A PLAN to get you out of-" Michelle trailed off, glancing over to the window, whose light gleamed against the golden trim on her typewriter head. She squeezed his other hand tightly, hoping to break his gaze.

"Hey, hey…" she muttered impatiently, "Never mind that!" Michelle hastily neatened her paw paw's suspenders and wiped some dust from his right arm. A soft but steady click sounded from the visionary's patchwork head, which finally turned to stare at Michelle. "…I've got something to show you!" she whispered in a hushed but fervent tone, eager to hold her paw paw's attention for even a moment more than usual.

"I found this in Maw Maw's belongings…" she added in the hopes that mentioning his wife would aid in retaining his fleeting attention. A gloved hand slowly left her right pocket. In it, a worn postcard featuring him, standing in front of a bustling city street amidst a crowd of avid supporters. A whole host of dreamers. She held out the postcard with both of her hands, her shaky grasp placing it just below his face.

"See?" she pleaded softly, "Don't you remember this?" His stare didn't adjust, leading Michelle to conclude that he wasn't really seeing it. She withdrew her left hand and placed it on his right arm. "This is YOUR town." she insisted, squeezing his arm as she spoke, "These are YOUR people!" Slowly but surely, his neck tilted downwards, so his dial could peer at the postcard. The titan's head twitched slightly, the rusted dial spinning laboriously as his gaze scanned the whole postcard, finally resting on the tabby sitting at the front of the crowd. Michelle slowly lowered the postcard, putting it back in her pocket, before then placing her right hand onto his left arm and leaning in close.

"I've got a PLAN this time, Paw Paw…" she whispered, caressing the side of his arm softly. The metallic man didn't stir. "There's an election coming up soon…" she added excitedly, hoping to regain his attention, "Soon… I'LL be Mayor." Crown's gaze drifted back towards the window, prompting Michelle to shake his arms slightly. "Just like YOU were." she uttered, before using her right hand to turn her paw paw's head back towards her, "We're going to RECLAIM what was once ours." Michelle's right hand drifted back to her paw paw's left arm while her left index finger trailed the side of his head, circling a large circular button. "And then…" she stuttered, "And THEN, I can get you the help you need." She paused, glancing temporarily to the window.

"Whatever it'll take for you to remember." She turned back to her grandfather, her hands now interlocked, as if pleading with a higher power. "YOU'LL put this town right." she declared, "YOU'LL breathe some life back into this tired old world." Her paws rejoined with his arms, gripping his elbows tightly. "We'll be a family again." she whispered, her voice now shaking along with her hands, "You'll see." A momentary silence permeated the room, broken only by the dim but reliable ticking coming from within her grandfather's head. "Hey…" she murmured softly, "I know you can hear me… I KNOW you're still in there." She gradually leaned forwards, bridging the distance between them, peering into the rusted dial on the metallic man's face, like a tiger peering out from a cage. "You can see me…" she pleaded, "…Can't you?"

Crown gradually rose in his seat, his elbows digging hard into the armrests of his chair. Michelle backed off slowly, her body slightly trembling as she saw his head shift, as if looking right through her. This was it, she thought. He can finally SEE me. But, before she could say anything, his head drifted to her right. Towards a busted radio sitting on a small table to his left. Crown slowly lifted his left hand and began clumsily fiddling with one of its knobs. "Is…" he murmured, clearly just thinking aloud, "Is the war over yet… I can never get a good signal on this thing-" Of course. He'll look at ANYTHING but me, she thought. Michelle darted over to remove his hand from the radio.

"Hey, HEY!" she spat, as she pried his hand from the knob, as if commanding a small child, "Never MIND that! You-" Just as his grasp slipped from the dial, Crown jolted to his feet with inexplicable speed. The sheer and sudden shifting of weight in the room from his mechanical body produced an effect not unlike standing on a platform as a train comes speeding by. The titan's gauntlet closed around his her arm as his other arm convulsed wildly, desperate to reconnect with the radio.

"He's FIGHTING for his LIFE out there, h-" Crown exclaimed, prompting a couple of burly phone-headed men to rush into the room. As the uniformed men struggled to force him back into his seat, Crown's ironclad hold on Michelle's arm suddenly released. For a moment, she was completely paralyzed, unable to feel anything but a searing heat coming from her trembling arm. Before she could speak, the worker who'd greeted Michelle at the door rushed through the door. She stood, arms-crossed, glaring.

"He's agitated." the receptionist muttered, "Visitation's over. He needs his rest." In her posture, Michelle saw judgement. "He's m-" Michelle murmured, barely able to vocalize. The receptionist interrupted her trembling voice. "You can come back." she dictated, pausing for several seconds before continuing, "Later."

Michelle, still shaking, had much she wanted to say. But, no words came from her head. Just silence. The room was deathly still again.

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here

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Happy new year yall

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Yeah... so what did we learn?

Norm did you know there's a very cool site with groovy art of you? It's called r34 you should try searching your name up some time 😁😁

Well I don’t trust yall but I s’pose a little internet exploration couldn’t hurt.

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Norm did you know there's a very cool site with groovy art of you? It's called r34 you should try searching your name up some time 😁😁

Well I don’t trust yall but I s’pose a little internet exploration couldn’t hurt.

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since someone else asked about character inspiration, i also have a question regarding gingi's design

was their design by any chance inspired the oghma infinium, specifically the skyrim version of it?

i thought it might've been just a fun coincidence but you've made a few morrowind references across your works so i wasn't sure if it was also a reference or simply another example of the "atrocity sewn together from patches of human skin" trope

Good eye! I mainly based it on Frankenstein conceptually, but I probably did have the Infinium in mind when I was thinking of how to represent the stitched together flesh look :)

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Marla Crown facts:

A little known fact is that Marla Crown was also disabled, like her husband, and Mingus' iconic cane belonged to Marla (sans the cat head, which Mingus added in the same way she added the concrete cat head to Town Hall.)

In her early days, she was a journalist/radio news reporter and was instrumental in getting Crown elected as the mayor of Dialtown. While it's possible Crown might've found a path to success on his own, what he didn't expect were the workers who flooded in from nearby towns looking for work, hearing about him from Marla's radio broadcasts where she depicted him as pro-worker, someone who took care of his own, come hell of high water. In many ways, you can attribute the start of Crown's political movement to her.

She believed in Crown's mission with the same ferocity that he had and in the early days, pushed him to harden his rhetoric and seek out the best outcome regardless of the cost. The Crown saviour narrative was her invention more than his.

She was particularly close to her husband's best friend and vice president, Milton R. Wallace and balanced out Crown in more ways than one. Aside from her generally smart advice, she was the only person in Crown's life that his honeyed words never worked on.

After the end of Crown's presidency (and doubly so after his memory was erased), Marla's post-political career was quiet and withdrawn. Having to raise a kid on her own and being legally responsible for the husk of her husband was enough stress for her, especially with a turbulent conscience. For decades after her public life ended, she was occasionally hounded by reporters demanding information from her about her husband.

While history books are kind to Marla Crown, coverage of her at the end of her life was unfairly negative due to the timing of when she withdrew from the public eye. Since it coincided with the end of her time working with Crown (and she returned to a normal civilian life), many pundits assumed that Crown had carried her with him and that her work in his administration was something he granted as a token courtesy.

Archives of her early broadcasts of her Crown interviews were buried when Crown became a national candidate (to not polarize the electorate with Crown's harder socialist rhetoric), so a lot of her early contributions are lost to history.

Most frustratingly of all, a novelty arcade machine was mass produced and sold to funfairs/arcades nation-wide. Fitted with a crystal ball, an outfit resembling the vibrant hue of purple she often wore and dubbed the 'Madame Mediocre Clairvoyant' (sharing its initials with her), these machines can occasionally still be found around the country, often in rundown places (due to a catastrophic programming error that rendered the machine basically unusable.)

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Figured I'd make an important announcement here too:

Been much busier than I anticipated this week, but I figured I'd mention this now: I'm gonna be adding a new encounter to Roger's route soon and after that... I'm getting to work on an Olandy Dialtown route! It'll be smaller than Roger's route & won't take as long to make!

Already got some endings + scene ideas mapped out!

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Nevermind. They're looking at each other like they're one line away from making out (somehow)

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What if I went out with stabby and or shooty,,,

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STABBY??? SHOOTY????

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Diversity WIN!! The cryptid trying to commit various malicious crimes is neurodivergent!!

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Sopping wet kitten Roger cannon

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ANOTHER ONE?!?

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DID BRO JUST CASUALLY HAVE A VISION ABOUT CALLUM?!?!?!

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BIG SHOT MENTION!??!?!