#Great googly moogly! It’s all gone to shit! » Crack | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bidrums · 4 years

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My idea for the Repo sequel that we’ll never get and if we do probably won’t be like this but it’s my post and my idea so fuck it

Potential title- Repo! The Genetic Opera 2: Great Googly Moogly It’s All Gone To Shit Even More Than The Last Time /j

This will be a bit rambly and all over the place, and I’m going to format it with character arcs rather than plot points. Hopefully that will make this less all over the place.

So without further ado, here’s my idea:

(Read more because this will be loooooong)

General ideas:

-This will focus on the long-term fallout from the Opera Incident in the first film. It will be focused on one event, but on a larger scale

-Two plots: Master Plot and Lower Plot (because there will always be 20 subplots in an opera and I want to distinguish the main subplot from the other 19 lol)

-The themes from the original story of 1. Destiny versus choice and 2. Dystopian Economic Lessons will still be present

-It’s still an opera and we will milk all the opera we can out of it dammit

Master Plot:

-Set this years after the Opera Incident

-Focus on the Largo siblings and have Shilo be more on the side

-Go more into MOS and just how it affects people

-The tension will be the fact that Amber has her brothers on short leashes but is barely able to keep them in line, and it’s obvious to anyone with a set of eyes (so all the poor people)

-Luigi is in charge of the Repo Men, and he’s loving it. Unfortunately, he’s been ramping up their activity and setting them loose on everyone every chance he gets. Over the course of the story he’s shown to be going after people he has personal grudges against, as well as anyone he thinks will bring a profit to Geneco. He’ll get killed by one of his cronies, which he’ll be very shocked by

-Pavi’s in charge of surgery operations, but the messy parts that aren’t glamorous and are more importantly out of any PR fiascos. That doesn’t stop him from getting into PR fiascos, but those are just him being him. He also uses his position for personal gain, having a new face each week and having to replace Genterns and customers each week. His fate will be more ambiguous, but he does lose access to all his faces and will be cut off from the power that let him run around doing it. It’ll be heavily implied he gets MOS.

-Amber is just Not Vibing. She isn’t the star opera singer, having a company to run and all, and she HATES that. She’s good at handling the PR and appearing competent and even has gone without changing her appearance for a month! But she’s also struggling with the management side of things regarding surgeries and the organs and keeping the repossessions on schedule. And her history with street zydrate doesn’t help with the efforts to crack down on illegal Z doings, which she has been doing (the Repo men do more than repossess now!). She also knows her brothers are cooperating until they get the chance to take over and is trying to get that to not happen in her lifetime. At the end she’ll be stripped of everything and will be just another face looking for a hit of z in the crowd

-There’s gonna be a lot of trios and duets about these three, and Amber gets a couple of solos. As a treat.

-The Repo Men play a bigger role in this, obviously. Expand on the lore of the Repo Man, but keep them faceless unless they’re injured in some way (for example, Luigi stabs one to make a point). Make it clear that a good chunk of them are doing this under duress, wether to pay for a surgery or because of blackmail. But those people aren’t distinguishable under the uniforms. At the end they as a collective will be the ones in charge and not just the servants of the company, and everyone will live in fear of the Repo Man regardless of if you’ve paid off your debt or not

-Graverobber is still the narrator and he’s the only character that’s consistently thriving. More bodies to make more Z, after all. He’ll be the one to introduce the concept of an economic bubble, which will build off of the “for every market a submarket grows” deal he had, as well as set the stakes for Geneco. He’s gotten bolder, lurking around company property and doing business in more places than just alleys. No backstory, he doesn’t need one. He’s here to narrate shit and give you the cure. At the end, he’s the king of the streets and if you aren’t one of the people who can afford the ever-increasing expenses of getting treated by Geneco, you go to him.

-The climax will start with a broadcasted speech by Amber (thinking of something like “An appeal to [something]”. It’ll be right after Pavi gets demoted in whatever way he gets, and it’s intercut with Luigi and the Repo Men. The speech will be a solo set in the Opera and will basically be Amber trying to keep things under control as well as try to get the people who have been starting to rebel to not and work things out. It’s interrupted by the Repo Men stabbing Luigi and tossing his corpse onto the stage. Then we get something called “The bubble pops” or similar, which is the payoff for the economic bubble motif. Maybe something about crashes. People flood the opera from everywhere, carrying Amber and the remaining Genterns with them. It spills out into the streets, where confused and scared people are surrounded by the people hurting. And in the eye of the storm, narrating everything as calm as can be, is Graverobber

-The last song is the aftermath where Graverobber is hanging out doing his thing while the Repo Men prowl the streets. Not everything completely sucks, and you know eventually someone else will take over and build another market that will spawn a sub-market. That’s for another day, however.

Lower Plot

-A few side characters that work for Geneco will have some focus, mainly in the departments of “trying to keep this company going” and “trying not to die due to the Largo siblings”. They’ll be used to show how the power struggles trickle down through the company until they alongside the Repo Men take that power away.

-But the lower plot belongs to my girl Shilo.

-Poor Shilo can’t catch a break ever and I’d like to apologize for adding to that fact

-Shilo, having reclaimed her identity and her destiny, is still scared of what her father’s legacy will do to her and how people perceive her. So she swaps out one form of isolation for another, this time doing as much as she can to donate and start things to curb the need for Repo Men. They’re not very successful and have become something of a joke or just a hollow way to act like she’s doing something. Which she’s trying to do, she really is. She’s just not very successful

-She’s kept the holograms of her mom but has added a few of Nathan as well. The basement kill room is now her bug collection room. Small changes like that, but it’s not that changed

-She doesn’t really go out during the day that much, and only sticks to a few locations at night. She will hang out with Graverobber for a chat and cryptic narration, but she’ll be as detached of an observer as she can be

-Towards the climax, her health takes a sharp downwards turn and she has to go into public. Turns out she did inherit Marni’s blood disease, which manifests later in life. Just a freak accident of the genes

-Desperate to keep public faith, Amber offers to pay for the surgery and cure to the disease. Shilo’s faced with the conundrum of what to do

-She decides to just take medication (real medication) and attempts to not believe that it’s secretly poison like she took her whole life. It help her, but it severs her ties with Geneco, leaving her to survive on her own

-The new lead opera singer is the one to warn Shilo of the impending disaster that is the climax, and she’s faced with another choice: bar herself in her house and accept the life she’s made as a shut-in, or brave the mob and actually be involved with public life once again

-She chooses the latter, and is the second, smaller eye of the storm. She and Graverobber make eye contact, he knowingly nods in a silent promise to keep her safe, and she runs into the Opera to see what the damage is

-Reprise of a solo she had, and maybe have a callback to the Opera incident in it

-After everything, Shilo is shown to be an opposing force to the Repo Men; a small force, but a force nevertheless. She’s turned her house into a kind of sanctuary where people are actually protected without a ruler, and has started to campaign for change. For people to decide what happens to their genes

So yeah, that’s what I imagine. Sorry that it’s all over the place! Let me know what you think

#repo! the genetic opera

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mahouproject-one · 6 years

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"Too weird to live, too rare to die." | Farah | Trial 4-2 | [RE: Results, Joon-Young]

All things taken into the potluck of consideration, they had to admit they sort of saw this coming out on the endless stretch of the horizon.

The vote for Mitsuo-- it was a vengeance vote really, wasn't it? A vote of pragmatism more than of any real authentic confidence or balls. The flaws were all in the fixings, looking back on those seconds before in 20/20-- why would Mitsuo Ueno cut throats for this motive? Surely the composer would be doing well to be forgotten and go incognito, if anything. This was rooted in rue, all this. Joon-Young Myung made sense. Joon-Young Myung was the answer. And now Joon-Young Myung would kill for the second time in short follow-through. (You just couldn't trust a nice boy these days, Aphrodite almighty. Them's the breaks, them's the breaks.)

Great googly moogly; once again, it had all gone to shit. Little surprises there, miniscule minutiae of 'em. But if there was one faint, rusted, buried-in-lint-and-aged-shimmer of a silver lining to any of this shitfest shebang, it was that Farah Fujibayashi-Beauregard had narrowly dodged the bloody bullet that would have been Catching One Whole Feeling. By gods above, it had been a close shave! But, thankfully, they believed they just might be able to damn well slip past it to freedom, far away from the ticking doom that was catching The Feelings. It was great! Everything Was Totally Fine! (It was not. Probably.)

Initially, they were inclined to hesitate before embarking back to where they had once been, but something-- perhaps just how irreparably, absurdly gonzo this whole thing really was, as it flung itself off the roadrails-- pushed them away from Joon-Young, the supermodel murderer, and back to the caustic cold comforts of their little black notebook. Oh, they could visibly react to this more, with a "fuck" or a "hm..." or a "goddamn it, what am I doing" or a simiple "crikes", but they needed some sense, some sensibility, some hushed observation-- and where, pray tell, could they contextualise things into such pristine shells and shapes the way they could with writing? That was their duty. They had little more left to spread; this was but another notch on their collective bedpost of surrealism and misery, surely. They were just here to record as they witnessed.

And, ah, wouldn't they have swayed down that merry way of the eagle eye, if only Joon-Young hadn't locked them in with that look and those words.

Dropping their journo's pen with a clack!, Farah immediately looks up to lock gaze with Joon-Young, and something flashes across their features-- quickly, swiftly, rapidly buried underneath that wry, witty, jovially doomsday manner of theirs, and yet...there's still a small, subtle sign of a knit to their eyebrows as they speak-- and their words cut in sharply, clean through the air. Has Joon-Young...perhaps touched a bit of a nerve? (Not that they'll let it show, of course-- they're not the angry type. Or the upset type. Or the rattled type. They are done with the feelings-catching for this particular day, thank you--)

"Ah, please don't let me be misunderstood, Myung-chi. You're off the markings on my musings entirely. Listen sharp, don't just lookit."

Their stare stayed steely, methodical yet merry, in a way that felt...off. Not in a drastic showing of such, just off. They just kept looking.

"Read my lips, Dash. I'll try an' be plain Jane about it. I cawed about death not matterin' much of a whit...here. The now-now, specifically. In this highly particular, reticular hellhole. The rhyme to my reasonings down this particular road? Hell, just look 'round the room, my friend-- at, say, Miyu Suzuki-chi, for an example! She killed, she suffered, she died. But...she hasn't left for any other plane but you and I's, has she? Sure, she's moved to a state of halfs-- semis-- almosts--" (Miyu has heard this before, and they wonder what it sounds to her ears in this modern context)-- "but she's still here, a voice among the haunted crowd, a vox most phantom! She's not alive-- but she is here. The state's the same with the girl you sent to th' spirit level. The sorry sucker you and our thorny Rose here are about to enable the unholy sacrifice of. Sure, you killed 'em. But you can apologise tomorrow, can'tcha? Now, if we talk in terms of what'll happen after the storm if we manage to break this establishment-- that's a tread into the murkier waters, I'll throw that to you. But 'tween all that jazz and a dash of the Labyrinths-- how y'can get eviscerated entirely and get away clean as they come!-- doesn't that render the mutual murderous aspect of Ouryuu and the sellout's game here...a mild range a'moot? In a world where you can greet your dearly departed 'fore their flesh and bones are even loosing their fresh, what are the consequences? It's death, but it's not Real Death, is it?"

It's 1:42 A.M. and Shiny regrets all of her life decisions, but unfortunately, Farah has opinions. They continue unflinchingly.

"Real Death, now-- that'd be something like my dear old gran! See, she's sailed down the river Styx-- been a good couple a'months since it being so, I'd say. But she doesn't get t'stick around. She didn't get the chance on her hands to come back, be here, stay. I'm never gonna get a note on the back of an embroidered napkin from some sleazy retro-riche old restaurant from her again. I'm never gonna watch her go on a passion-packed rant about a corp that's crooked down to its bones, or ride on the back of her motorcycle, or tell her about my history teach's hokey take on McCarthyism, or gag on a sip of that ghastly tonic she loved because it tasted like that on the tongue, or crawl int'her attic space t'look at all her old badges and posters, or-- or-- ooooor--" they were pausing, goddamnit, you're not talking about this, stop talking about it, they don't need to know, look sharp, Fan, for fuck's sake-- "...Y'get the snapshot, don'tcha? And I've known far younger cats-- younger than you an' I, even-- to croak the bucket, and they don't get those chances, either. That's Real Death, methinks. Maybe it's luckier t'be able to leave this level of existence! Or maybe it's as hot as hell wherever the rest of 'em are. But it's different. So are the cluster of consequences, too. That's what my mode is, Myung-chi. And, y'know..."

They didn't have to keep the chatter up, and they knew it. They could just stay vigilant. But there was something else, and they couldn't help but speak that truth loud, but God, couldn't they just...

"...If your personal path of ponderings ledja down the path that I think life's insignificant, I'll have t'throw in an objection on that measure, too. Life, insignificant? Not by any scale, my man! Life's a giantess, as gargantuan as the Reaper! Just 'cause my prerogatives don't add up to staying on this particular playing field for much time doesn't mean I don't place a price on it. It's a beautiful trauma! A euphoria apocalyptica! It's terrible, gorgeous, slimy, grimy, sleazy, seedy, twisted, absolutely fucked! And it's a riot! It's a privilege and pleasure t'be here, and t'have gotten the possibility to drift the continents and see all the wicked the rotten motherfuckers of this world have had t'offer up to me thus far! I wouldn't try spend it like I do if I didn't place as much fucking value on it as I do."

What were they doing? Why? Why couldn't they answer their own questions about it?

"Don'tcha think I have a life outside? Dreams? Plans? Don'tcha think I wanna write a few more pithy politicking exposés, have a few more rounds 'round the block, maybe wander a few more lands, maybe give my Julie the biggest hug I can and tell her I'd shoot a guy on-spot just t'see her crack a laugh, maybe find myself a beautiful wife with a mind like acid, maybe dismantle the capitalist machine, maybe throw a solid couple a'wrenches before letting the wax wings melt and going all Bolivian army and leaving the place a little more shook up when we plunge off Thelma & Louise style?" Their eyes got wider. "Don'tcha think I've seen the circus spectacle they saw and mused 'bout how to at least make it worth the gawk? Don'tcha wonder if I give it moxie just t'make sure it's seen? Don'tcha muse that I have that deep-down yearn to be as witnessed as much as I do my best to bear witness to this whole thing? Don'tcha think that motive might've got me by the balls just as much? Don'tcha think I would've cut throat for that motive they saddles us to if you hadn't gotten your lovely self to the game first? It's not that I 'spect you to-- I'm not looking for answers, I'm just trying t'give you this forsaken rat's idea on it. Think about it, brother. Just that alone."

And suddenly-- all the built up intensity that their face had gathered, their knitted eyebrows, their hunched shoulders, their blazing blue eyes gazing, gazing, gazing-- all dropped. And they were just...

"...Just a glimpse onto my side a'the shimmering pane, Joon-Young Myung. After that, it's yours t'make the deducions on. And frankly, comrade..."

They shrug-- and they return, to their inscrutable, intensive, ever-extending journals.

What else was there that was close to real?

#mahouichi #chrono #chapter four #trial #farah #submission

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