#and the only way to really sort of Reset him was for him to die (thats how the servers random events usually went)

[grimmshood]

i was thinking abt angst but couldnt find this in my writing tag so im posting it again. zarahjiwoon ficlet based off events in an old rp server, where ji-woon went kind of insane and kept getting into losing fights with people. theres murder in it too i guess

wordcount: 1129

she’s been huffing and puffing about something ever since the two of them got back to the hospital. ji-woon’s been humming the whole time, more occupied by some vague elevator music buzzing in his ears among the entity’s whispers.

she has him sitting on a gurney, medkit lying open next to him. she’d say he’s not hurt too bad, but she’d be lying. the gunshot wounds in his thigh are glaringly obvious from the blood seeping into his bright maroon and yellow pinstripe pants, and the bruises on his shoulders and abdomen have turned dark purple. there are several knife wounds across his chest and his lip is split, blood running from his nose down past his lips and onto his chin. he hasn’t said a word about any of it.

“you cause me so much trouble.” she grumbles. she shoves his trench coat down to further expose the bruises on his shoulders and look for any other cuts on his arms. when she doesn’t find any more, she looks up at him.

“take your pants off.” his eyes widen as his cheeks grow red.

“a little more forward than usual, aren’t we?” he teases. she furrows her brow, looking back up at him- then returning her eyes back to the fabric stuck to his leg, she notices the slight tent.

“ugh. that’s not what i meant. i’m just going to cut this off.” her face flushes as she reaches for a pair of scissors and roughly folds up a portion of his pant leg before cutting away. she tears the rest of the fabric off before starting to look closer at the wounds, lifting his thigh to look for where the bullet passed through his leg. she silently took the pant fabric and began wrapping it tightly around his leg.

“you really can’t feel any of this?” she ties off the fabric, then looks over and picks up a piece of gauze before wiping down the blood from nose.

“not at all!” ji-woon responds with a smile. she grunts, grabbing another piece of gauze and shoving it in his hand.

“put this in your nose for now.”

he obeys her order, sticking the gauze in and letting her push his head back, tilting his chin up.

she continues to clean his wounds, stitching what she can and dressing the rest.

she puts her hands on his cheeks, pulling him down to face her again. he looks incredibly stupid, but he put himself in this situation.

“i’m tired of seeing you get hurt. I know i did part of this.” she frowns. “but you keep making people upset. it doesn’t help that they already don’t like you.”

“it’s okay. i don’t need their approval anymore, i have you and her!” he gives another stupid boyish grin when he speaks. “nothing hurts now. i can’t feel anything, not even the pain.” she can feel her heart begin to crack. he doesn’t seem to care at all, even when people want him dead, and it hurts to watch.

“it hurts to look at you like this. i know you said you don’t feel anything,” she puts her forehead to his, trying to look into his eyes- “but even if it doesn’t hurt you, it hurts me.”

“it shouldn’t. i can survive it, and it makes Her smile, you know.” he glances upwards.

“i don’t care if it makes her happy.” zarah lets go of his face. “the stuff you’re doing makes everyone upset. and it makes us fight, and it fucking sucks. it’s miserable.”

“it’s entertaining, though, isn’t it?” he smiles again, and this time it doesn’t look so cute.

she braces herself, clenching her fist. calm down. don’t be rash. he stands up, picking up his coat, walking past her and through the halls of the hospital. she turns, following him out. he passes the front desk, stepping outside into the snow.

“it’s cold.” he spreads the coat out, wrapping it over her shoulders. she stares back up at him, bare chested and bandaged, noticing the way he shivers but doesn’t react to the cold. it doesn’t make sense. it’s stupid, and it’s hard to let him keep acting like this.

he takes a step forward, and everything freezes. she clenches her fist, staring at the blank smile on his face before she grabs him by the arm, feeling the sluggish force of time fighting against her. she pulls him forward, pushing him to his back on the ground.

and time begins again, her straddling him as she has one hand keeping him pinned to the ground.

“that’s the first time you’ve done your thing with me, isn’t it?” he giggles, giving her yet another smile. she clenches her fist again, raising it up in the air as it begins to vibrate and glow blue- but he’s still the one she loves, even if he’s not acting right. she hesitates, lowering her fist.

he pulls a hand up, dragging the hand pinning him down onto his neck.

“it’s okay. if you’re doing it, i won’t fight back.”

she bites back the sob in her throat as she looks down at him, smiling so happily even when she’s thinking about hurting him. it doesn’t feel right, but she can’t handle him like this. she misses when he was mean, when he’d actually fight back.

his hand travels up her arm.

“it’s okay. you can cry. it makes it better.” he puts his hand out towards her free hand, gently pushing her fist open. “it’s more intimate do it like this,” he continues, pulling her hand onto the other side of his neck.

she sniffles, squeezing her eyes closed.

“my love. it’s alright. i’m not going to be mad at you. i’ll come back.”

he pushes her hands further, and she slowly grips his neck tighter.

“like that. you’re a good girl, you know. everything will be okay,” he smiles again. he puts one hand on her cheek, gently brushing away the tears welling in her eye.

“i don’t know. i can’t do this. i need you to be yourself again.” her head falls, hands squeezing harder.

“please…don’t be upset.” she begins to sob, feeling his windpipe close under her grasp.

“i need you back so we can fix this. i can’t do this by myself.” she presses even harder, squeezing her eyes shut. he gasps, and she keeps her eyes closed as she hears him fall unconscious. she keeps her hands wrapped around his neck, squeezing as hard as she can.

when she feels his hand loosen from her cheek, she opens one eye to look. she leans down, pressing her ear to his chest to check for his pulse- when she doesn’t hear anything, she loosens her grip.

“i’m sorry.”

[tprings-hair]

I'm going to say something about the new unification short film that I haven't seen anyone here say yet.

I love the handholding scene. massively impactful. I love the echo of "this simple feeling" from the motion picture and the genesis reference and the idea that spock did not die alone or among strangers. it's just so satisfying after all this time to know that even shatner knew it was wrong and needed to be approached with more compassion for nimoy and the fans who loved these characters and knew they should be together at the end, whatever that looked like.

but you know what really got me?

this minute or so. kirk confronting his old selves. because that's obviously original series kirk right there in the gold uniform.

and the other? THAT'S HIM!!

(I'm linking it this way because you apparently can't add more than one video to a post and I need it here for demonstration.)

so we have present kirk walking down a dark hallway. at the end is spock, but at the end is also spock's death. how can he step forward and face that? what happened to the way he used to think about death?

yellow shirt is TOS kirk, who had always found a way around the problem and never (if the movies are to be believed) had to face death straight on. he's looking forward with confidence. there's no way spock is dying. there's a way out of this somehow, if only he can find it.

TOS kirk looks back the way he came, because he believes he can go back. he can always go back. the series always resets to the same characters who can be depended on to take similar actions, because that's what a serial is, and that's who he is. things have taken their toll on him, but he knows he can take the hit and keep moving.

but he stops when he's faces with WOK kirk. the one in the red dress uniform, who has lost spock and knows what it is to live without him. who has faced death in a way he had never had to before, because the constraints of the series never allowed it. he has been changed because of it.

TOS kirk sees that, and does that sort of posturing that he always does in front of someone who's threatening him. but WOK kirk isn't threatening him. he's just living through something TOS kirk hasn't had to face yet. it's him staring his past self in the face and telling him, kindly and firmly, you know nothing about how it will feel. you will never be the same without him.

and TOS kirk looks back again, and there's a present kirk, wearing his generations uniform. this is kirk having turned that grief to a desperate search for the most important person in his life, and emerged with spock by his side. he's not the same, but he's made it through. of course TOS kirk would look to that.

and as our kirk looks at these people he used to be, they vanish in front of him. he remembers the way he used to think about losing spock. the fear, the grief, the hope. there's no hope left. when he reaches the end, spock will be there, and it will be their last time together.

but he puts the pin back on, and reminds himself of his duty not just to a fellow officer, but to a friend, to the most important person in his life, and to himself. spock should not be alone, and he never got to say goodbye properly before. doing it now is the least he can do.

that's his ultimate responsibility in that moment: being there for spock. that's been his ultimate responsibility from the beginning. and this is shatner acknowledging that they deserved an ending that fit that truth.

[rip-headphones-users]

2 Point Perspective Ch3: Let Yourself Feel Weak

AN: Hey guys whats up whats good. So for some fucking reason Ao3 HATES me and wants me to DIE and has not been letting me post 2point for some unknown reason. So I’m posting it here on tumblr dot com my favorite website instead because it’s pride month and I need people to read it. I need people to peep the horrors. Also yes the chapter title IS another fragment of a GILT lyric. I probably should be posting this in 2 parts. Idk man. Happy Pride month or something.

A deadline was approaching. Kasper was sitting at his computer scouring the regretevator’s files, looking for any inconsistencies that stood out to him. He knew he needed a certain amount of bug fixes by the end of the week. His father made that abundantly clear as he had been continuously grilling him on his lack of progress every time he did see him. He would go out and streamline things for enhancing performance, but that would require he actually go out and test floors for himself, and he really did not have the money to spend on that many floor tickets just to test and retest to make sure it was running the simulation correctly as he repeatedly died. Granted, Builderman preferred the term “Forcing a Reset”- but Kasper figured it best that he call it as is. It’s just dying, over and over.

Of everything he was in control over, Kasper wasn’t allowed to touch the behavior of other NPCs, including himself. He had to wonder then, if there was a bug in his own code that gave him this call of the void. Not even that, there was probably something wrong with him in there that made him outright suicidal. The other possibility that he was just sort of hard-wired to be this way and forced to cope with it unsettled him, and genuinely he hated thinking about it. He resented that his dad didn’t have the time or resources to go fix it himself.

Though seeing as he had long since moved on to other projects, it was more so that Builderman straight up couldn’t go in there and do it anymore. Understandably though, doing something like that on his own would probably give Kasper some weird messed up crisis. Outright deleting himself would more than likely have dire consequences on the games function as a whole, and he wasn’t about going in and fucking up the lives of literally everyone he’s technically in charge of. Would it be fair to refer to Kasper as a demigod? … maybe.

Kasper’s hands dug into his hair, absentmindedly tugging at his outgrown roots. Every drag on the scroll wheel felt as if he were trying to run through a nightmare, horribly slow as a singular beast approached from seemingly every direction he turned, the dread only consuming him further. A few rapid notification pings drew his attention quickly, allowing himself to get distracted.

PartyHardy111: Haiiiii

PartyHardy111: Kassssssss

PartyHardy111: Kaspurrrrrrrrrrr

PartyHardy111: U Awak???

FriendlyGhost: POOB!!! :D

PartyHardy111: AKSPWER HI HI HI HAI HAIIII <:DDDDD

FriendlyGhost: Wutz up bru??? OuO

PartyHardy111: IIIII Hav a questn for uuuuuu <:3

FriendlyGhost: Shoot! ^-^

PartyHardy111: APPARENTLY

PartyHardy111: Da lite ov ur life stepped on tha ‘vator absolutey GLOWING.

PartyHardy111: mah pestest friend in tha whoooolllle wide world tolddd meh <;p

FriendlyGhost: Pest told u??? ,’:0

PartyHardy111: YUPPPPP

PartyHardy111: But he said itt more like a (imagine big meen meanie pest voice <>:() “That stupid lampshade wouldn’t turn his brightness down the entire ride here, that idiot was smiling so bright I thought I was gonna get a migraine. What’s he so happy for? He never does that.” an den sum stuff in his beetle language that idk what it wuz lol prolly swear wordzzzz <xD

FriendlyGhost: 0///0?!

PartyHardy111: I gotsta kno!!! Wai is he so fulla da whimsy!!!??? <:3

Of course this would come back to bite him in the ass. Kasper let out a long, drawn out sigh before standing up, and slamming his forehead against the wall a few times. What The Hell. He growled to himself under his breath, “Thanks, Lampert, for the fucking subtlety.” He might as well delete himself right now. Well, no use lying to Poob, their ability wasn’t exactly derived from the meta like his was. Kasper made a search, ‘Is it possible to fully delete characters that have already been implemented into a game?’

FriendlyGhost: k so ofc u kno how Lampert likeeeeeee

FriendlyGhost: LIKE likes me???

PartyHardy111: Neva hear da end of it wen I c himmmm LMAOOO!

That was news to him. Results on his search bar were… inconclusive. Nothing about deletion, which made sense, he wasn’t even allowed. But maybe… he could find a workaround…

FriendlyGhost: So, he came over 2 check on me n shit, yea?

FriendlyGhost: Cause ya know he b worried 4 nothin.

PartyHardy111: <:0 o u good bud???

FriendlyGhost: yea yea dw dw ^^”

FriendlyGhost: He helped me with a tunnn of stuff n like?

PartyHardy111: okokok caus I don’t wantt u 2 b a friendlyyy ghostttttt <XDDDD

FriendlyGhost: ISRHBFEIHRFBYEIRBBSKDJBCKJ LITERALLY STFU!!! XD

FriendlyGhost: N-E-WAY. -_-

Kasper made a search, ‘accidentally overwriting preexisting characters in a game?’

FriendlyGhost: I took him out for icecream and we had a really good time. -u-

PartyHardy111: is dat it??? <‘,:3

FriendlyGhost: I… totally kissed him. By accident.

PartyHardy111: DOOD???

Kasper made a search, ‘most common file corruptions’. Now this? This was a little more conclusive. Ways to fix files, different kinds of corruptions, and different ways files can get corrupted. His eyes led him to something interesting… chainmail viruses… Ransomware. If he could perhaps isolate a virus to his own file…

PartyHardy111: literally y don u 2 jus start dating???

FriendlyGhost: cause idk if that’ll be good 4 either of us… :(

PartyHardy111: u are in top 10 biggest denial EVARRR!!!

FriendlyGhost: but he has like

FriendlyGhost: SOOOOO much goin 4 him

FriendlyGhost: and like I just…

FriendlyGhost: idk. I’d drag him down.

PartyHardy111: <:,[ I feel dat

FriendlyGhost: I’m sorry 4 bein all venty n shi but like

FriendlyGhost: idk I just don’t think I’m worth that effort?

FriendlyGhost: idk what he sees in me.

PartyHardy111: Kas…

FriendlyGhost: Lampert is my best friend, yk? Idk if I would be able to live with myself if I fucked it up.

Kasper made a search, ‘What happens to someone if their file gets overwritten?’.

FriendlyGhost: that being said, the second time wus on purpose B)

PartyHardy: WATTTTTTTTTTTTTTT ??? <:000000000

Kasper found something. A new website had been added to his bookmarks.

Poptart laid curled up and purring on Kasper’s lap as he sat quietly on the floor in the darkness of his bedroom. His ceiling fan hummed idly above him, tussling his bangs just enough to make him aware of the airflow. His phone rang for probably the seventh time that night, letting each call go straight to voicemail. He knew at least one had to be from Poob, which he would normally pick up but didn’t feel like getting his ear talked off for the next hour (especially at the information he just dropped on them). Another from Builderman, who more than likely called him by mistake, at best Kasper would usually get an email from him, anyway. The rest… he hoped weren’t from Lampert. They probably were if he had to hazard a guess.

Doing his best not to disturb the cat, Kasper reached for his phone and flipped it open. Three new messages. Well, at least only two of them were from Lampert. He listened to Poob’s voicemail first.

There was some rustling behind the speaker before he heard them yell “Hey! Gimme mah phone back!!!” Followed by the blow of a party horn. The gravel of Pest’s voice came out of the other end.

“You. Kasper. You need to be aware that what you said caused this freak to elbow me hard in the ribs with their excitement. Expect the favor to be returned.” More rustling, and a chittering growl as what he could only assume was the sound of Poob reclaiming their phone could be heard through several bumps against the speaker.

“Sorry!!!” They squeaked, “Pest- do NOT elbow Kaspe-” and… that’s when that line went dead. Kasper stifled a laugh, fully unexpecting to have Pest say something to him, of all people. Even if that was a threat.

Kasper then readied himself, mentally preparing for Lampert’s voicemails. The first began, and Lampert sounded… nervous of all things. “Hey Kasper, uh- it’s me. I was wondering if you’d like to hang out again some more tomorrow? You don’t have to call it a date if you really don’t wanna, I mean- not that I’m asking you out on a date, or that I’m calling it a date. But… yesterday was really nice, and I can’t stop thinking about- hah, I’m sorry, I sound like a moron right now. Hold on.”

The first voicemail ended, and the second one started up. “Hey Kasper, It’s me. I think we should probably hang out again tomorrow. I know you’re probably nervous about whether or not I’d see it as a date, but if you don’t want it to be, that’s fine! I just wanna hang with you, and we can take it at your pace. If something’s bothering you, you know you can always talk to me. I…I really care about you, ya know? And I want to be there for you as best I can… Kasper, I uhh…” The second voicemail ended. And seconds later, a third voicemail from Lampert popped up.

“Hey Kasper, sorry- hopefully you’re listening to this one first, uhh- ignore those last two. Delete them, actually. Or I don’t know- call me back when you get this and I’ll delete them myself, hahah… Anyway, I wanted to ask- but like, whatever since you aren’t picking up… but I’m gonna come over tomorrow and we’re gonna hang out. I don’t care if you’re embarrassed about what happened earlier, cause like… obviously I’ve been losing sleep over it too, just thinking about it. I know you’re scared of this sort of thing, and I get it, but… I really want to be there for you Kasper.”

There was an intermission of silence as the dread began to stir within his chest again, it was almost as if Lampert was waiting for a response from him on his end, despite the message being pre-recorded over the course of listening to the last few minutes. It sounded as if there was a pen scratching against paper on the other end, Lampert either live-journaling or scripting himself for this voicemail… he wouldn’t be surprised if he had a list of bullet points, actually.

“I know you’ve been shouldering a lot, dude. And… I want you to not have to be alone through that. I want you to talk- uh, I want you to be able to talk to me about this. I… I really don’t care if it’s supposed to be confidential- you’re clearly suffering and it’s… it’s really hard to watch. I hate feeling like I’m just on the sidelines not able to do anything while you go through all this, Kas.”

Another pause.

“I just… I want to tell you… that you mean a lot to me. Genuinely. I love you, Kasper.”

He snapped his phone shut, that- no matter the sentiment- was genuinely hard for him to hear. It was a real question that he had, as much as he hated thinking about it. That he might actually mean something to other people. Well, at least his room was clean for Lampert’s visit… not that he actually put in the effort behind that.

Poptart rubbed her face against his, getting his attention with a “mmrp” before jumping off his lap and rubbing her body against the door. Kasper stands, following her outside of his room as she trots into the kitchen, looking behind her to see if he was following. He sighs, and looks into the living room where Unpleasant now lounged on the floor, playing its DS.

“UG- you fed Poptart while I was out, right?” Kasper asks, knowing he’s not gonna get a useful answer.

It huffs, morphing in a way that would appear to have it kicking its legs in the air. “The fuck do ya think I am? That's your job to feed your fatass cat, idiot.”

Kasper groans in annoyance as he takes a can of wet food out of the fridge, and steps around Poptart as she curls around his legs. “She is NOT fat,” He chimes back, “and I don’t know- maybe you could stand to help out around here. No wonder dad sent you here to live with me, you’re insufferable”

“Kinda in the name, don’t you think?” It shrugs, and rapidly opens and closes the DS as Mario repeatedly goes ‘buh-bye!’

Wet food falls into the dish, and Poptart immediately starts scarfing it down. “Gah- why do I even bother talking to you.”

There's a brief moment of silence before Unpleasant says something.

“Yo, who do you think dad hates more, me or yo-“

“Shut the hell up.”

Lampert fidgets with a tiny keychain of bottled hand-sanitizer, anxious to make his way onto Kasper’s floor. He debates getting a floor ticket as he takes a wipe from his bag, dabs it in sanitizer, and begins wiping down the floor buttons. He wouldn’t be opposed to just accidentally pressing the ticket button… and while the menu flashes onto the screen, he wouldn’t be opposed to just looking at the feed from just outside Kasper’s door… and checking to see if there is a change in the price… okay he might as well just buy a floor ticket while nobody else is in here. Not that he’s gonna bother anyone with an extra stop… and… oh- that’s the door closing the entrance to Kasper’s apartment.

Lampert rushes to slap the elevator’s open door button, and practically topples inside. Well, at least he didn’t have to buy a floor ticket, he figures, as he enters the apartment. He can’t help but wonder to himself, ‘Does Kas ever lock this place?’ As he moves through the apartment, he practically dodges Unpleasant Gradient, opting to find Kasper on his own instead of making the mistake of asking.

The lamp opens the bedroom door gently, illuminating the dark room around him with the warm glow of his bulb. There is Kasper, once again sleeping soundly having shoved himself into a corner of his bed. The sight makes his bulb grow brighter for just a moment, before he represses it entirely. He walks silently over to the corner and just watches Kasper sleep, placing his bag next to him, filled with wipes, plasticware, and two containers of takeout he had picked up from Rokea before leaving. He watches as Kasper’s chest rises and falls, the cool surrounding air becoming warmed just from the pass through his lungs.

He can’t help but wonder how it would feel, to breathe like that. Or perhaps even to be something so fleeting as a breath as it is taken. Simply just to exist as air, inhaled and exhaled. What would it be like to be drawn into a pair of lungs? To have your very essence be warmed? To provide such sustenance that allows someone to continue living off of the oxygen you hold? It must be as exhausting as it is comforting. A routine as key to a continued survival as it is thankless. Nearly every breath taken is taken for granted, provided that someone isn’t in a state of asphyxiation.

Lampert shoves the train of thought out of his mind- placing a large dab of the clear sanitizer and rubbing it between his hands, wiping the excess onto his lampshade while thinking to himself ‘No, stop that’.

It’s absurd, almost- the amount of restraint Lampert held when it came to Kasper. Normal people didn’t think about their friends like that… and yet.

He grazed his hand along where Kasper had kissed him.

No- no… that would be asking for too much. He’s just a lamp. He’s just a lamp.

He couldn’t tell how long it had been until Kasper had begun to stir awake again, but he found himself waking up as well when Kasper reached over and yanked the pull chain of the lamp on his bedside table. Kasper gasped at Lampert with a startled look, eyes wide- though this was a common enough circumstance for Lampert to just be standing there in his room as Kasper slept.

“Dude-” Kasper inhaled sharply “you could have at least called me to let me know you were here!” He spoke through a raspy morning voice. “I’da woke up!”

Lampert smiled, “yeah whatever man, I brought breakfast. Or lunch. Or whatever you want to call it.” He lifted up his bag, “It’s just some meatballs and stuff from Rokea, nothing special.”

“Yo momma meatball.” Kasper grumbled (knowing full well he was talking to the guy who had two dads made out of completely inanimate material) as he flung the blanket off of himself.

Lampert quickly averted his eyes the moment they made contact with Kasper’s bare chest, his lightbulb flickering as soon as he realized he didn’t have a shirt. He heard Kasper stifle a laugh as he got up, opening a drawer to pull on a layered shirt. Long sleeves as usual. “Shut up” Lampert hissed, crossing his arms as he faced the other way, more drawers opening and shutting as Kasper presumably continued to get changed behind him.

Kasper tapped Lampert’s shoulder when he finished, “you done being nervous?” He asked teasingly, waiting for Lampert to turn back around.

“Oh?! Says the guy who kissed me and ran away about it- what was that about?” Lampert huffed, watching as Kasper’s face turned red.

“L-listen…”

“Nah dude, we’re gonna sit, we are gonna eat, and we are gonna talk about your problems because I am tired of you just dancing around your issues.” His tone comes off more confrontational than it's intended to be, watching as Kasper backs up from his intimidation. Lampert promptly sits on the middle of the floor, opening his bag to reveal the two (slightly cold) takeout containers and setting them in front of him. “Get down here.”

Kasper blinks rapidly, “can I at least get a drink…?” To which Lampert pulls out a bottle of water and a can of bloxy cola. He sighs, and takes a seat across from Lampert.

Lampert looks Kasper in the eyes, his gaze a little harsh. “Look Kas, you wanna get better, right?” To which he nods sheepishly. “Then you have to talk to me.” Lampert explains. “I don’t care if you love me like that- well… obviously I do care, but you are my best friend, first and foremost.”

“Lampert I…”

“Hey- let me finish, just focus on eating.” Lampert pauses him. “I don’t think you know how hard it is, having to watch you not take care of yourself, Kas. When I offer to help you, and I can help you- it’s hardly an issue, then you deny me at every turn until I basically force you to let me help you. Not talking about it isn’t going to make this go away, you know that?”

Kasper nods, swallowing his food before speaking up again. “Lampert, I legitimately do not know if I am allowed to talk about it.” He says, watching as Lampert’s gaze barely shifts away from his face, only reading a twinge of frustration. “Plus, I genuinely don’t know if you can handle the information.”

“Well I want to know!” Lampert shouts unintentionally before catching himself.

Kasper looks up at him with surprise, craning his neck as he sits hunched over his food, almost guarding it with his arms. “It’s… about my job.” He finally admits.

“I didn’t know you had a job?”

“… well you’re not supposed to.”

Contemplative silence hangs between the two of them, lingering for a few minutes as the two of them eat. Lampert looks up at him from his meal, wondering “Is there anyone who’s supposed to know?”

“Only unpleasant.” He shrugs, twirling the fork between his fingers. “But uh- if I tell you, like. Just the basics of this. You promise you won’t freak out on me, right? Or uh. Go around telling anyone else?”

“I swear.”

Kasper sighs, pushing away the weight of his cosmic insignificance. “Let me… phrase this as a bunch of questions, okay?”

“Sure thing.” Lampert leans forward intently, his tail flickering with intrigue.

“Have you noticed anything… weird, about Rokea? Like you swear certain displays looked just slightly different last you saw them, or that for some reason the legs of a chair seem to be uneven, so as you pick it up to fix it, you could pull the chair out of the floor… without leaving a hole in the ground? Or leaned back onto a wall just a little too hard and without realizing you’ve ended up on the floor?”

Lampert nods, eyes flickering with subtle small realizations of things that he thought was supposed to be normal, but never openly spoke of.

“Or you’re on the regretevator, and you’re about to fall to your death but you manage to cling to the wall and suddenly… you’re standing with your feet firmly planted? Or you get impaled by a spike and instead of dying you seem to be completely unharmed? Or you’re forced to play one of those game floors and you phase partially through the solid floor instead of falling as it disappears? Or that suddenly you see so much more detail in the environment around you that you never noticed before?”

“I thought… that I was going insane…”

“No, you aren’t.” Kasper says quietly, reaching out and taking Lampert’s hand in his. His brow furrows as he averts his gaze. “I’m the one who is in charge of fixing all of that.”

“Wow… so you’re like… in charge of everyone’s life then?” Lampert asks, his motor whirring as he tries to process the implications.

Kasper clicks his tongue, sighing before telling him “no- well… yes, But it’s more like I’m in charge of making sure everyone dies correctly.” He says. “And walks correctly, and talks with the right people in the right way, and makes everything look the way it should…” he trails off. “It… doesn’t feel right having people even try to know. It’s…”

“It’s a burden, isn’t it?” Lampert sits silently again, squeezing his hand a little tighter. Now he understood why Kasper struggled with this underlying sense of futility in everything he did. “Have… you ever had to fix me? Like in the way you would fix something else like that?”

Kasper looks at him, and closes his takeout box, placing the fork inside and moving it away from himself. “Well, things involving you.” He says, “I’m not really allowed to fix you directly.” When Lampert does the same, Kasper moves in closer to Lampert. “Besides… I wouldn’t wanna fix you anyway.”

Lampert’s face lights up as Kasper grabs his other hand and just holds it. Kasper moves quickly to shut off the smaller lamp on his dresser, allowing Lampert to illuminate the room himself.

Kasper continues, “I’m scared cause like… what if I make a mistake and end up hurting so many people? Not even a what if- I have by accident. Several times… and none of them remember or even realize that it’s my fault… I’m scared it’ll all suddenly be permanent.”

“Have you hurt me before?” Lampert asks.

Kasper doesn’t want to answer.

Lampert wraps his arms around Kasper’s chest, pulling him in and resting his head on his shoulder. “I’m not gonna be mad, Kas.”

“I care about you Lampert, but…”

“So you feel guilty, then?”

Kasper nods, sniffling as he buries his face into Lampert’s sweater.

“You’re just doing your job, listen to me. I’m here… I’m here and I’m fine.”

“I just… it’s so scary and I’m scared I’m gonna keep fucking up, and I’d… I’d rather just…” Kasper’s voice begins to tremble, and Lampert quietly strokes his hair with one hand, using the other to grab a wipe from his bag to place between himself and Kasper’s nose, preemptively holding it to his face before snot begins to rain down onto his sweater. Kasper takes the tissue and rubs it against his face, discarding it off to the side.

“…Is it bad that I want to remove myself from this entirely?” He asks, almost as if he was trying to get some kind of permission from Lampert as he lifted his face, looking into the warm light emanating from his lampshade.

Lampert frowns, “Like- quitting your job?”

Silence from Kasper.

“Like… like quitting your job, right?” He asks again, more panic seeping into his voice. Kasper just slumps against him now, digging his fingers into the knit of the sweater. “Kasper- Kasper please I need you to elaborate, I need you to explain, I need you to tell me. Just…”

Lampert pauses, wrapping his arms even tighter around Kasper now. His own metal fingers pushing into Kasper’s sides. “…Don’t remove yourself from me.” he begs, pulling him even closer still, letting his lampshade rest on top of Kasper’s head. Hoping with everything in him that through the glow he surrounded him with, he would be able to feel even just a fraction of the comfort that he wanted Kasper to experience. Hoping that his hope alone could somehow manifest physically, and make him feel just a little more okay. Hoping that maybe… he could absorb that pain into himself, and hold that burden, splitting between themselves, so that Kasper’s life would hurt a little less. He could handle it, his body isn’t living- his body could just be discarded if it couldn’t handle the pain. Kasper’s wasn’t. Kasper-

“I don’t think you understand the implications of what I mean, Lampert.” Kasper sighed, just allowing Lampert to move him as he continued to rest against him, at this point no longer caring about the fact that Lampert was holding him like this- he just needed to be held. He could literally feel Lampert getting warmer the second he used his name. If Lampert wasn’t so hopelessly in love with Kasper, he figured that this information would have certainly come to his lips so much easier.

“I want to.” said Lampert, who was resolute in his desire to help him.

Kasper felt as his throat squeezed closed with anxiety, a tear trickling down his face as he tried to muster his voice to speak once more.

What the fuck, it’s not like Lampert was going to remember this anyway. At least for as long as Kasper had a say about it.

He’ll worry about that later.

Lampert wiped away the tear from Kasper’s cheek, gently allowing his hand to rest on the side of the young man’s face. His soft squishy skin melted into the touch, holding still as Lampert leaned in and kissed the opposite cheek. (The best he could, anyway, he did have a lampshade for a face after all.) Kasper sobbed even harder, now, attempting to choke up the words.

Lampert should never have to remember things like this. It’s for his own good.

“This isn’t real.” Kasper whispers between sobbing gasps for air. “None of this will ever be real.” It’s vague, but honest. Lampert might as well have never kissed him, or even be here with him right now, but that’s not the notion he’s trying to drive home currently. “It’s… it’s all this stupid fucking elevator. That’s all it’ll ever be.”

He waits for Lampert’s question of ‘what do you mean?’, but it never comes. Instead he shifts slightly, giving himself room to look Kasper in the eye. He seems more contemplative, casting his gaze a way for a few seconds before telling him “I know what you’re talking about.”

Kasper feels his heart drop in his chest when Lampert says this, twisting, aching, wondering- how long could he have known? How long has he been failing for? Why didn’t Lampert tell him sooner? Lampert clearly notices his expression trembling with guilt and fear, and moves him back into his arms, motor whirring as he realized he had to explain something as well.

“There’s this thing I do,” he starts, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. “You know when I choose a new lamp to inhabit It just looks like a flash of light? And how that light is uh… that’s my ‘me’?” He states, feeling awkward in his wording. “Well sometimes I just… walk around like that. Usually when I feel overwhelmed by everything surrounding me and having to feel things, or when I… I want to be close to something, but am too scared to touch it...”

“…Then I can move through walls, and the floor, and just… I keep walking. Sometimes I go, and I go, and inevitably the world loops back round before you even know it. Except obviously it’s not the world, all it is, is just a single set of a few rooms with a bunch of random objects sitting around outside of it. That's all it is...”

“…Is that what you mean?”

Kasper nods. “Yeah. Yeah that’s what I mean.” Close enough to it, anyway.

The silence between them is more comfortable now at least, as Lampert leans against the side of Kasper’s bed, stroking his hair gently as Kasper lay against Lampert’s chest, still crying- but not fighting it anymore at the very least. Kasper would occasionally move to blow his nose, Lampert not necessarily bothered by the building pile of tissue at their side. This was more important. He feels Kasper’s body relax in his arms, and kisses him again on the top of his head. It just… held right to do, he supposed. Only to be surprised when Kasper moved upwards, kissing Lampert on the lampshade for a few seconds before handing Lampert a hand wipe, just in case, but still making Lampert smile and glow bashfully. Kasper then returned to his resting spot right on Lampert’s chest, wrapping his arms around him tightly.

He keeps his head firmly planted where it currently is, and doesn't move as he speaks. “I- umm… I just want you to know… that I didn’t want to tell you cause I thought you’d be worried, or that it would upset you.”

“Yeah?”

“…And that I do love you? Right? It’s just that… ya know- with the position I’m in…”

“It’s hard to justify?”

“Yeah, like… Like ethically.”

“…”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know… I just… hate how that’s the answer.

For a long time, the two of them just stayed sitting there like that, Kasper unsure if he would, or even could ever get to kiss him again.

It was midnight, and Kasper sat on the edge of the bed as Lampert slept soundly. It had taken hours of back and forth conversation between the two of them to get Kasper to calm down, but those hours were long enough to prevent Lampert from returning to Rokea. Kasper suggested what he knew to do best, and offered that Lampert might as well stay the night- to which he almost immediately got to work changing and washing Kasper’s bedsheets completely unprompted.

Kasper sat there, watching him briefly as he lay on his side in complete stillness, the only indication of life being the occasional dull flickering of his bulb accompanying brief bouts of mumbling in his dreams. He thought about all the times that Lampert would just stand there, doing this to him as well. There was something to be said about that amount of focus that Kasper simply did not possess for himself. It’s not that he wasn’t comfortable sleeping next to Lampert. In fact, it was really the opposite. It just felt right, as he laid there having the most peaceful sleep he felt he had in weeks. Unfortunately for him, what felt good and right wasn’t necessarily what he felt was deserved in many cases. So he stood up, leaving the room and Lampert. There was work that needed to be done tonight.

It’s another night spent sitting at that stupid, slow ass, ancient hunk of junk that was his PC. Though tonight it’s not necessarily combined with thoughts of self destruction as was typical. It seemed tonight that Kasper would trail away from his work, consumed by thoughts of Lampert. He wanted to go back to bed, and nudge Lampert awake until he was just conscious enough to shift into a position where Kasper could hold onto him, and let the heat from his robotic frame seep into his chest. That wouldn’t be fair for either of them, though.

A new email notification popped up about five minutes after Kasper booted up his computer, headliner reading “0p3n Mii : D!!!”

Yeah, no. He deleted that. He didn’t need some stupid junkmail clogging up his inbox right now. Much like Lampert was clogging up his stupid brain. He had to wonder, why hadn’t Lampert told him he could traverse through no-bounds before? That idea alone made him heavily consider not just going into the game’s autosave and just… deleting the last few hours worth of safe data from the entire world, leaving the only evidence to be his own memory that he had done it. Obviously he’d never tell Lampert that he could even do something like that, and if he did, he’d delete that too.

But this no-bounds thing… that would actually help Kasper with his job, funnily enough. Assuming Lampert wanted to help, that is. That would save Kasper having to “force a reset” on himself more than he would ever usually need to, especially having someone who could look beyond the confines of their small world and tell him exactly what he needed to fix. He could get so much done- maybe his dad would finally…

… would Builderman even care?

Kasper sat as he blankly stared at the unopened files, another pop-up for an email titled “0p3n Mii!!! :)” which he once again promptly deleted fifteen minutes after the first one.

Sighing, Kasper thought to himself that no- it couldn’t just be as simple as having Lampert do all that. After all, Lampert didn’t even know he had a job prior to today. Not only that- Lampert had work, and responsibilities of his own to take care of back in Rokea.

Kasper opened his browser the second after a third email showed up in his inbox, taking a sticky note and jotting down the web domain of the website he found earlier: “ScarieztPrankzNHaxxerz.com” figuring that might have been the source of those stupid emails, and promptly blocking it. He’d investigate further, in his own free time tomorrow probably, if he didn’t forget.

Whatever, man. Trying to delete himself was probably a idiotic thing to do, anyway.

Kasper reopened his email, figuring that he might as well just check and see if he had received any bug reports since last he checked. Feeling his stomach lurch when he saw over 50 new notifications.

“0p3n Mii!!! XD”

[thewertsearch]

EB: won't there be other players in the new session? EB: like, alternate universe versions of ourselves or such? CG: PROBABLY. CG: BUT THOSE CHUMPS WON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT US, OR ALL OUR PLANS. WHY WOULD THEY? EB: yeah… it's just kind of a weird thought. […] EB: but i guess it's sort of comforting too. EB: if rose or dave have to go off and die, at least i get to see them again, in a way. EB: even if i will only be alternate universe john to them. EB: maybe my dad will be alive in that session too!!!

I doubt it, unfortunately.

I’m pretty sure Earth’s First Guardian will be altered by the reboot, which means this timeline will have diverged millions of years before Dad was born. The only humans who'll remain the same in such a radically altered timeline are Sburb Players, since they're getting injected from the outside.

CG: YOU NEED TO FOCUS ON GETTING READY TO START THE SCRATCH. THE GAME DOESN'T MAKE A HARD RESET THAT EASY TO PULL OFF. CG: ONCE YOU INITIATE IT, THE GAME THROWS EVERYTHING IT'S GOT AT YOU. WHICH IS ONE REASON WHY YOU'RE THE BEST GUY FOR THE JOB, BECAUSE OF YOUR SUPERPOWERS AND SILLY WINDY BULLSHIT.

Sburb wants to know if you’re worthy of a second chance – and the burden of proof lies on you, John Egbert.

Good luck!

CG: GET PREPARED, MAKE ALL THE EQUIPMENT YOU THINK YOU'LL NEED, STAY OUT OF TROUBLE. CG: WAIT FOR JADE TO SEND THAT CODE, WAIT FOR ME TO CONTACT YOU FOR THE FIRST TIME, AND DO YOUR BEST TO HUMOR HIM WHILE HE IGNORANTLY ATTEMPTS TO FLAME YOU BACK INTO THE PUDDLE OF SLIME YOU CRAWLED OUT OF.

We’ve finally come full circle, as John is about to experience the iconic Act 5.2 opening conversation between himself and Karkat. Liveblogging it brought up a ton of questions, all of which have slowly been answered, as we watched John grow into the person Karkat first saw.

If we're finally closing this loop, then we really are getting close to the end. I'm getting chills!

Looks like you can choose your own reading order here, and I think we've got to start with Jadesprite.

Her power will be critical to the session's endgame, I'm sure of it. Let's see how long it takes her to realize this for herself.

[avelera]

Parallels Between "Arcane" and "Puella Magi Madoka Magica"

Here it is, the meta I've been chewing over since Season 2 of "Arcane" was still in progress. I have been side-eying certain elements of Arcane since Act 1, wondering if the parallels with the anime "Puella Magi Madoka Magica" I was seeing were really there, and Act 3 confirmed it.

So to give a quick abstract of what I want to explore, here are the overarching similarities between these two genre-defining masterpieces of animation:

1 ) A time loop story in which one member of a partnership is repeatedly going back in time to save the other and prevent an apocalypse.

2 ) A system of magic that at first seems benign and is utilized to help humanity, only for its users to learn this magic isn't a blessing, it's a curse.

3 ) Resonance between their art and music. Both "Madoka" and "Arcane" are noteworthy for their visual artistic flare, which makes Madoka a likely inspiration for Arcane, in both the visual art and the music.

This is the short version. Now let's dive into more details on these resonances between the stories that I would argue are too similar to not be a homage on at least some level.

1 ) For those unfamiliar, "Puella Magi Madoka Magica" is eminently worth your time and the greatest subversion of the anime "magical girl" genre I've ever seen, which it accomplishes by taking many magical girl tropes to their natural, horrifying conclusion.

This essay is going to delve into a lot of spoilers for "Madoka" so if you haven't seen it yet, I highly recommend you stop reading now and go watch it. At 12 episodes of about 22 minutes each, it's an easy and magnificent watch.

For those familiar with Arcane and Madoka, let's dive right in.

In episode 11 of Madoka, we learn that the forbidding figure of Homura who has dogged the narrative and repeatedly prevented our protagonist, Madoka, from becoming a magical girl in a puzzling subversion of the genre finally reveals the truth: she is Madoka's best friend from a previous timeline. She has been resetting the universe, reliving the same few weeks in a Sisyphean hellscape trying to find a way to save Madoka from a coming apocalypse. She has navigated every eventuality but, tragically, with each one she feels herself becoming more unrecognizable to the person she loves.

Sound familliar?

Viktor = Homura Akemi

Jayce = Madoka Kaname

Both Wizard Viktor and Homura reveal the truth of the timeline loops they have suffered through. They do so in a visually otherworldly location, surrounded by images of their past failures, in a place that feels set out of time from the rest of the world. There, they give an impassioned explanation to their loved ones, Madoka and Jayce respectively, about the evil they are fighting to prevent, and how they have suffered through these time loops in order to try to save their loved one and themselves.

Though Wizard Viktor doesn't say this line directly about watching Jayce die over and over, it is heavily implied that each failure of a timeline where Jayce doesn't convince Viktor to set aside the Glorious Evolution ends here: with Jayce's assimilated corpse at the top of the Hexgates.

When Acts 1 & 2 first dropped, I began to suspect that we were looking at a time loop of some sort, but because of Jayce's appearance in 2.05/2.06 and his seeming foreknowledge of events, I had assumed that Jayce was the one who had traveled through time, making him the Homura of the story.

But once it's revealed in Act 3 that Viktor is the Homura of the story, a staggering number of parallels fall into place between Arcane and Madoka:

Homura in the first timeline is a sickly girl who is often shunned and ignored by others. As a result, when the warm, affectionate Madoka enters her life, Homura is immediately struck by her kindness. She will eventually swear her life to saving Madoka.

The visual parallels get quite striking there in some instances.

Both Homura and Viktor spending a great deal of time in the hospital and suffer from ill health, until magic cures their condition. Once they are no longer sick, they embark on the time loops to prevent the events certain events that both lead to disaster, and that are the events that gave them the power to overcome their poor health and time itself in the first place, in a self-replicating paradox.

Here, for example, is a side by side visual of both of them going back to earlier versions of their loved to try yet again to set events into motion that will eventually lead to their salvation. When they do so, they appear as a mysterious, forbidding figure with unknown magic at their disposal. Both at first terrify the person they love with their appearance, and at the same time, introduce the first hints of magic into their lives.

Viktor's time loops take place mostly off screen, while Homura's are shown as part of the main story, they both lead to the same conclusion.

Of course, you don't have to take my word for it that this the parallels between Homura/Madoka and Viktor/Jayce are a direct reference.

Once Jayce and Viktor, and Madoka and Homura respectively, overcome the challenges they face and find a way to use the magic that has damned them to find a solution that will save the world and prevent an apocalypse, both ascend to an astral plane of existence for one last reunion and embrace.

In a scene that is nearly goddamn identical in terms of tone, visuals, and blocking. Both are stripped down to just their essences, naked against the cosmos, and holding one another in an embrace brought about by their love for one another and acknowledgement of all they have done to save each other, over and over.

2 ) Similar magic systems - As striking as the character parallels are between Jayce and Viktor and Madoka and Homura, I don't think the resonance would be as strong if the underlying magic systems of the two stories weren't so similar.

In "Madoka" 1.11, Kyubey the magical creature who grants the girls their powers reveals the truth of the wishes they make, and how those wishes will always turn into a curse.

"All hopes are wishes for something other than the current reality, after all."

(Like defying gravity, perhaps?)

"And anything that doesn’t match reality is bound to create a distortion."

"So why is it surprising that these things always end in disaster? If they considered such a natural outcome to be a betrayal, they were wrong to have made a wish at all."

As Jayce says in Arcane 2.05, "Hextech isn't a miracle. It's a curse."

The fact the magic systems are so similar in their consequences is what lends weight to the fact that Viktor's off screen journey is so much like Homura's, in which he must travel back in time to thread the needle on the exact sequence of events that will both spare Jayce, allow Viktor and Jayce to meet so they can create Hextech which allows the paradox to happen at all, and spare the world the Machine Herald apocalypse (in which, ironically, magical science boy Viktor becomes a witch in his own right, tearing apart the world), and somehow get them to the other side.

In the end, like in Madoka, the only way to save the world is to become celestial beings that erase the curse of their magic, and themselves, from existence.

3 ) A similar artistic flare, in both visuals and music. Madoka and Arcane are highly artistic works that don't just rely on their strong stories to carry the day. They also have resonance in their superb art and music, that to me seem to be in conversation with each other.

For example, the song "Magia" from Madoka and "To Ashes and Blood" from Arcane (which is arguably Jayce's song) to my ears share what sounds like a striking resonance of a rock song juxtaposed with a primal chorus that invokes the wild forces of magic that the protagonists have unknowingly unleashed and must now face. You're welcome to disagree, and whether it was deliberate is very questionable, but I at least hear it.

Finally, I should at least give one nod to what I think are the visual resonances between the two shows as well, though I think the best way to really explore them is to watch "Madoka" and "Arcane" through. This is just one that stuck out to me.

Madoka Magica was noteworthy for its use of artistic flare, especially when exploring the witches. While the visual styles of the two shows are very different, there are moments like the one above where I saw similarities or at least inspiration.

The fact that both shows pushed the boundaries of animation not only indicates to me that they belong in the same category but also, that Arcane was certainly looking back at Madoka as one source of inspiration.

[thewholekittyandkaboodle]

Perfect End AU

The Perfect End AU is a world where the king successfully took over Vaugaurde and somehow rewrote reality so that the saviors would never stop him. Unfortunately this came at a great cost, as now reality itself is on the brink of collapsing. If the king isn't stopped everything in this world will fall apart into nothingness.

You (Either an OC, canon character, or even AU version of a cannon character) are summoned to this alternate dimension and are tethered to a time loop for as long as you stay in this world. Each time you die you will loop back in time until the world is right again. You have a choice. Do you try to free this world of the king no matter how many loops it takes or will you simply try to escape back home?

Should you persist you will have to uncover how the king gained his reality altering powers, decipher how the world was before he came to power, and find a way to reset reality back to the way it was before.

Cast:

Head Housemaiden Mirabelle: As the recently appointed head of all the housemaidens of the House of Perfection she strives to live up to the lofty expectations she's suddenly been thrust into. She loves helping her friends so she'll gladly shoulder any weight to make their lives perfect. The king needs her to be strong, so she has to be. But the pressure is really getting to her, she can't even seem to recall the name of her...predecessor... Regardless of where you come from, she'll welcome you with open arms and a big and not-at-all forced smile.

Captain of the Defenders Isabeau: He never shows an ounce of fear, he can't afford to with the safety of the public at stake. He certainly isn't unaware of the strange hues that appear in the sky or the potential dangers they signal, but he can't let the public know lest they succumb to fear and then to panic. So he makes sure to protect and serve with a smile, lifting the spirits of the townsfolk and distracting them from any strife. Anyway, who is he to question things with such a perfect community? If he just keeps everyone safe like the king wants then everything will....be...fine....

Former Master Scholar Odile: Once she was the head of all the king's scholars and keeper of The King's collection of ancient manuscripts. Now she's a fugitive of the law on the run for stealing one of the very manuscripts she was trusted to protect. The King claims it to be a sign of madness, but the only way to know for sure would be to ask her yourself...

Bonnie: A poor lost child trying to find their sister. They babble on about how "Everything's all wrong!" and "You're all acting weird!" This little troublemaker never gets far before getting dragged back into the dungeons, though the Head Housemaiden and Captain of the Defenders personally make sure they are well fed and comfortable behind the king's back. But should the king have his way, they will be properly "fixed" and they won't bother anyone with their inane prattle anymore...

The King: His mind has been long warped by the mysterious power he wields. But it is a sacrifice he is glad to make for the chance at the perfect world he fought so hard for. The universe brought him here, and he won't let anyone stray from the path he has wrought.

The Wanderer: A figure that lurks in the woods behind Dormont. With dull lightless eyes and a darkless cloak and hat they peer out from the shadows with an eerie grin stretching from ear to ear. Those who've seen them can't make out their intentions, but they swear they had seen in their eyes the same hues that come from the sky!

This is a GM or game master type rp, meaning I will act out the characters in this world and you the "player" will interact with the characters and world and make choices to advance the story as if you were playing a video game. A bit like an escape room of sorts. There will be puzzles, combat sections, and time loop shenanigans. Other players can join in on a person's campaign and become a member of their party if all players involved agree.

If anyone interested has any questions, feel free to leave them below.

If you'd like to play then...

BEGIN

[flanaganfilm]

You have spoken about dealing with addiction in the past (congratulations on your sobriety, btw), and Hill House, Midnight Mass, Doctor Sleep, etc, all feature characters struggling with addiction. Do you find a sort of catharsis in writing those characters and their storylines, and do you find that having gone through that affects how you write those characters and their stories? p.s. if the question is too personal, I apologize. You are, of course, free to ignore it.

Happy to talk about it. I was writing about addiction long before I admitted having a problem. Looking all the way back to my student films, many years before Absentia, I can see myself starting to pick it apart. The fact is I was a really shitty drunk. I was absolutely a problem drinker. It was always that way, going back to school - I was never able to handle it, and there were times throughout my life starting very young when that thought would occur to me, and I'd get scared, and then I'd convince myself I was being dramatic and that I had no problem whatsoever.

The truth is that I didn't have an OFF switch, I was inclined to hide my drinking, and the older I got the more self-destructive I became when I was under the influence.

But I was also very committed to the belief that I could handle it, and that I didn't have an actual problem, so for years I'd coast by, telling myself whatever issues I may have had weren't so serious. "Nine times out of ten, I'm just fine - I'm the life of the party," I'd think. I wasn't, though, and soon enough it was 50/50 whether I'd have to make apologetic phone calls on a given hungover morning. And those stretches where'd I'd really let go and drink hard, the person who emerged was less and less like me. It got to the point I didn't recognize him at all - there was this stranger who lived inside, and if he got out, he was could destroy everything I held dear, and he didn't give two shits about it. Looking back at the last decade of my work with the perspective I have now, I can see an escalating subconscious urgency in the way I was talking about alcoholism and addiction. My 2003 student feature Ghosts of Hamilton Street features a wanna-be writer with a horribly self-destructive alcohol problem. The people in his life begin to physically disappear, and the world around him resets as though they never existed at all, so he's the only who notices. I was 25 years old when I made that movie, and looking at it now, the addiction issues are a huge blinking red light all over the movie. At the time, I thought it was just interesting context for the character.

I wrote the opening scene of Midnight Mass (which features Riley Flynn waking up from a blackout drunk driving session to find that he's killed someone) all the way back in 2010, eight years before I finally sobered up. That was always something I was absolutely terrified of - not that I'd die because of my drinking, but that I'd kill someone else and live with the consequences. That was probably my biggest fear for most of my life, if I'm honest. And there were mornings I'd wake up at home and wonder how the hell I'd driven myself there the night before. I remember those mornings with a stomach-turning degree of terror and shame.

It was always somewhat cathartic to write about characters with addiction issues. There's a long stretch between Absentia and Hill House where it appears that I'm not dealing with those themes in my work (though I'd argue there's a subtle addiction meditation at play in Before I Wake that I've only recently noticed), but I was also secretly working on Midnight Mass that entire time, and just pouring all of my thoughts and anxieties about alcoholism into that story. So while Oculus, Hush, Ouija: OOE, and Gerald's Game don't seem to dwell much on addiction, that's really because I was spending my nights pouring all of that into the pages of Midnight Mass, which existed alternately as a novel, a screenplay, and then a series during those years.

Working on Doctor Sleep is what brought it all to the surface for me. Stephen King's novel deals thoroughly with the theme of recovery (The Shining is about destruction of addiction, and Doctor Sleep is about the journey and reality of recovery), and a lot of people in my cast were sober. It was while we were shooting that film that I realized I needed to make a seismic change in my life.

My wife will say that reading the scene in Doctor Sleep where Dan sits at the Gold Room bar in the Overlook was when she knew I was reaching a critical moment. That scene isn't in King's book, and my first draft of that conversation between Dan and Jack was almost fifteen pages long. It's basically a prolonged argument between the addictive and sober voices in my mind, and writing that scene shook something loose in me. I stopped drinking just a few days before we filmed that scene for that movie, and I haven't had a drop since.

But for catharsis, Midnight Mass truly is the most personal piece of work I've ever made. Riley is a very thinly disguised avatar of myself. I look at that series and I see several distinct versions of myself in conversation with each other over more than a decade. I'm glad it took so long to get that show made, because if I'd made it in 2016 like I wanted to, I wouldn't have done a good job - there is no way I could have told that story until I was finally sober. If you listen closely to the AA meeting scenes between Riley and Father Paul throughout the series, you're basically looking directly into my conflicted brain over many, many years.

This year is my fifth year sober, and I spend my days happy, busy, and so grateful that I was able to make those changes before my drinking destroyed my career, my marriage, and my life. I was lucky. I am lucky. But since I finished Midnight Mass, I haven't felt that pull when I'm writing. I haven't felt those themes elbowing their way into my work. That part of me is still in here (it always will be), but I feel like I was somehow able, over many years, to coax it to sleep. I'm sure I'll return to those themes over the years, as I hope to learn more about myself and have more to say... but for now, those voices are peaceful and quiet. I have projects on the horizon that will touch on some of those things (if I'm able to make The Dark Tower, there's some wonderful elements with Eddie's addiction issues that I look forward to exploring) but it feels different.

One of the things I hold onto when I look back at that time is the hope that the work can be helpful to someone else who may struggle in a similar way. And talking to fans, I've heard here and there that it has, and that means the world to me. I think storytellers can't help but use their stories as a mirror, it's one of the ways we take ourselves apart, look at the pieces, and put them back. It's one of the only ways we can see ourselves clearly.

Sometimes we don't even realize we're doing it. It's only looking back that we can see ourselves, and our work, with any real clarity.

[obsidianpen]

I love how you did all three if the original timeline boys. Ron and Draco are exactly the right kind of selfish, and Harry is exactly the right kind of selfless.

I get that Draco does experience genuine love for her to an extent, and I’m sure Ron does too, but they’re both so selfish. Neither of them care about what she herself has to say about any of it, and just assume they know better.

I get it why it’s a mindfuck for them, but if neither of them considered that Hermione —S.P.E.W.—Granger wouldn’t love and try to save the lonely loveless orphan, I’m pretty sure they didn’t know her at all. Harry gets it because Harry knows her. Took him about 30 seconds of listening to her words for it all to make sense to him—whether or not he liked it. No matter how much motive Harry has to see Tom dead, he could never be a coward and kill someone unconscious and helpless—unlike Ron and Draco who were all jealousy and arrogance (“She’s obviously confounded” he said forty seven times entirely ignoring any and all objection and evidence to the contrary), so entirely content to only care about their own experience that it never even occurred to them to consider anyone else’s.

I know you got a ridiculous amount of pressure from all the Dramione fans who wanted some sort of crumb of validation for Draco, and that using Draco’s love was a way to force Harry to accept Draco coming along, but I think the one single critique I have for this story is that it should not have been Draco’s love Sewlyn used. It’s a cheap knock off of the real thing compared to Harry’s love:

Harry wasn’t just being given a chance to save his bestie and get her back (a much bigger deal really than getting back a girl that maybe someday could want to date you, which is all she actually is to Draco). Harry was being given a chance to have his entire reality reset—to grow up with his parents, to maybe have siblings, to have a life in which he never had to be starved and abused by the Dursleys, watch Cedric, Sirius, Hedwig, Dobby and so many other innocent people he loved die, have the fate of the world on his shoulders and suffer, and suffer, and suffer some more. And he gave up his one chance for all of that because he loves Hermione so truly that he was not willing to sacrifice her well being and happiness for his own.

All Ron and Draco can think about is wanting Hermione to want to be their girlfriend and to not have to stop and consider that Voldemort might in fact actually be a human being instead of the boogey man from their childhoods. They’re both predictably (albeit forgivably) pathetic and selfish. Harry is the one demonstrating actual real love for Hermione. And Hermione is clearly demonstrating actual real love for Tom. Ron and Draco are not even in the same building, let alone the same level, of understanding real love.

Regardless of Draco’s undeserved significance, this story is magnificent! nothing gives a dopamine boost like seeing it update. I’ll just be spending all weekend coming down from this, obsessively checking for a miraculous next hit of my favorite drug ♥️

🤷‍♀️ a fair opinion, but I never really felt any real pressure from dramione fans to do anything in particular. It was always going to be Draco’s love, and Draco going back with them. The whole time traveling thing was his idea in the first place, and while I would never say that his love is purer than Harry’s, because it def isn’t, it was real and it was growing. Hermione was growing closer to Draco and further away from Harry. The potential is important. Also, Selwyn likes to cook with spice, as she said… and so do I. :)

[numberonetacostan]

I was scrolling through tags looking for an AU of Taco and found your Paco Swap AU!! Which I love so much:D

Uh, I wanted to ask about it since it's been two months (I think) since there's been a post with the tag Paco Swap AU so uh yeah:3

First of all, the way in which the original Taco has the cracks and the bow, do you think Paco Taco would have any alterations to her appearance. Whether through injury or through accessories? It is said that she has people taking care of her, so would she have gotten an injury at a time when she was 'alone'? (Which I don't think would happen often) Or back during season one, whenever Pickle would be less than nice to her, avoiding her after she had gotten her prize.

Speaking of season one what was everyone's reaction to Pickles lashing out? Like would he say he was using her, or would he say how dumb she was to believe him? (Which if she understood what he was talking about about, she would likely be devastated) And then afterwards, where the others would have to take care of her, not knowing a lot of her emotional cues or how she acts and behaves (Being closest to Pickle and all) With the added point that she would be nearly completely silent, having lost one of her closet friends. How would they help her cheer up?

Erm, and also, I wanted to know how Pickle feels about being kinda forgiven by Taco. You said that Taco would just be happy to have him back (Understanding to a certain degree that the others still find him mostly untrustworthy), but how would he see her? Like to him, this Taco whom he had manipulated and used for the entirety of a season is ok wit him now, yet everyone else who took care of her after he left, still have their guard up around him. Like the original Taco in II, would Paco Pickle (During season two, after the whole Lightbulb thing) think about season one and feel some sort of remorse? I mean, Paco Taco in the present is still herself. Happy and content, even after what happened in season one. How would that make him feel that she truly has no ill will against him despite everything he had done to not only prevent her from learning English, but also using her in order to get the prize money?

-

Uh, this is kind of a long ask, but I just really like this AU and wanted to know more (⁠･ั⁠ω⁠･ั⁠)

Hi there!!^^ Welcome, and thank you for sending in an ask!! :3 I'm very happy to hear you like the AU!!! Has it really been that long? I hadn't realized!!

Yes, I do!! I think that when Pickle pushes her away right before he leaves, he'd push her hard enough to the point that a piece or two of her shell breaks off of her back. That one would be around for quite a long time, since she'd always have someone with her keeping an eye on her after that, so she wouldn't die and get reset. As for when Pickle wasn't watching her, she may have gotten bumped or scratched a few times, but I don't think she'd get too injured in his presence? She still follows him around like a little duckling, even if he's ignoring her, so unless he's doing something potentially dangerous, she'd probably be okay.

Reactions to Pickle lashing out!! Uh, most of them are rather upset!! I mean, there are some like Pepper, Salt, or Baseball who didn't know Pickle particularly well, so they wouldn't be as emotionally impacted, but they'd still be like. Surprised. Then there's contestants like Knife, OJ, or Paper who though they'd known who Pickle was and are quite upset at the change in his attitude!!

As for what Pickle says about Taco when he snaps, it's some very mean things to poor Taco. It is definitely for the best that she didn't understand exactly what he was saying. He'd probably go on a tirade about how obnoxious it is to have to watch over such an annoying little idiot all the time. He can't get a moment of peace with her always clinging onto him and he is sick of her. He'd only let her stick with him to make himself look better to the viewers, to be the nice guy who was taking the time to help the stupid little girl through the game. The game was over now, so he shouldn't have to put up with her anymore! Using the prize money for himself is only fair, the only reason she'd even gotten to the merge, much less the finale was because he'd done all the work! It is rightfully his to use! The little brat is too stupid to even understand what money is, much less how to spend it.

On that note, we move on to how the others cheer her up! Yeah, they really don't know a lot of her cues and mannerisms, especially when she's so upset. They'd start to miss the random shouts of "SOUR CREAM!" they'd heard throughout the day before. The first thing they'd try is probably lemons. They all know she likes lemons, so they go out to her orchard and collect plenty for her. She'd go and sit in the lemon pile, but she'd still be sad. Not sure if I'd mentioned this when I was describing the AU, but for a week or so after Pickle leaves, Taco will not move from her spot watching the front door. She's waiting for him to come back, but he doesn't. So that's where the lemon pile is as well. I think after that week or so, someone (Lightbulb?) would just try giving Taco a hug, and that's the sort of thing that ends up helping!! Silly Taco loves physical affection, especially since at this point she still can't understand most of the people around her. So she gets lots of hugs and headpats!! She'd like getting positive attention from the other contestants as well, since she had really only gotten that from Pickle and occasionally OJ. No one else really talked to her all that much. Nickel and Balloon were pretty clear with their dislike for her.

As for how he feels about being forgiven by Taco!! Conflicted. Relieved, in a way, that she's willing and eager to give him another chance. The thing is though, Pickle wouldn't forgive himself. He'd continue feeling very guilty about having used and betrayed her! He would definitely be remorseful by that point. Honestly, I think he'd regret what he'd done very soon after he leaves, because Taco's absence is so noticeable. She really was always following him around and nuzzling him and being silly and loud, yeah? Now he's all alone in the dark, quiet woods. He's still more outwardly emotional than regular Taco even when he's in her place, it would be even more obvious that he's regretful and sad. Her having no ill will towards him would probably make him feel worse, all things considered, but there's not much he can do about it. With everyone else not trusting him, that's a relief for him as well. He wants Taco to be well-protected!! He's glad that they're wary of him and watching out for her, he is mad at himself for what he did and think they should keep a close eye on him as well!! Anyway, yeah, he'd see her as like, an angelic embodiment of innocence and forgiveness. She very much cherishes her once they're together again!! :)

No worries about the ask being long!!^^ I love it when people send in long asks about my aus!!! :D

[shroommush]

Mr Cicle & Robert oneshot

Hey!! Its finally done!! And just in time before i leave on a cruise for a week! I started this like a month ago, so im very happy to see it finished.

As always, this little fic is based off of two characters, Robert and Mr Cicle from Paradoxcicle by @blipple-is-confused on ao3. None of this is canon to that fic and ive added a lot of my own headcanons around, especially when it comes to character backstories, so just keep that in mind.

This is set during the events of chapter 27 and onward, and the word count is 13,308 (i put way too much effort into this)

Warning for: descriptions of gore and lots of death (only mentioned in talking, none actually happens) and general angst

I hope you enjoy this mostly angsty, kinda wholesome attempt at making my two favourite characters bond.

~~~

Robert stared down the basement stairs silently.

After spending some time in the kitchen with Exterminator, Robert had gone to see where Quackity and some of the others had ran off to. Last anyone heard, they'd gone down to the basement.

And so, he found the basement door and stared down its long winding stairs wearily. He felt an unusually cold gust of air blow over him as he stood there, and he couldnt help but get the feeling there was something in that basement he wouldnt like.

It wasnt helping that his cameras exposure was so bad he could barely see half way down the stairs before it was just pitch black.

Well wasnt that great. He was gonna have to go down there to find quackity, wasnt he?

He leaned a little further through the doorway to get a better look- subconciously loosening his grip on his camera by just a bit.

It was then when Mr Cicle came turning the corner, peeking over Roberts shoulder to see what he was looking at.

Robert squinted at the darkness, his cameras lens zooming, still not having noticed the man behind him.

Mr Cicle paused, grinning at Robert as he stared down the stairs, unaware of his suroundings. He raised his hands, gently crept them onto Roberts shoulders and whispered- as hauntingly as possible- "Boo!"

"AGAHAAA!!!" Robert shrieked, his heart dropping as he felt the camera slip out of his grip and go tumbling down the stairs, into the darkness.

"GAH- NO no no no!!" He cried, watching the light at the top of the stairs get farther and farther away, flinching every time the camera hit something. "Not like this!" He gripped the sides of his head like it'd do anything to stabalize his vision.

Was he gonna die? Reset? All because he dropped his camera down a flight of stairs? It sure seemed like it. But he stood there in horror as he felt his stomach go queezy from the motion of the camera flailing, tumbling, and smashing into every stair imaginable.

Until finally, it came to the bottom of the stairs, hitting the basement concrete with a clack and falling onto its side pathetically.

Robert could see himself at the top of the stairs standing beside Mr Cicle, the two of them illuminated from behind. He stared wide eyed and devestated.

He could hear Mr Cicle make a whincing noise and felt him awkwardly pat him on the shoulder, making him flinch.

"Thats my fault, Robert.." he muttered. Robert could see him rub the back of his neck, grimacing down at the camera. "Sorry."

Robert stuttered, stumbling a bit to stand properly with his newly inverted vision. "I-its fine! Dont- dont worry about it." He spat out quickly. "Just- uugh shoot-..." he paused, pushing his lips together in thought. "Could you... help me down the stairs to get it..?" He asked Mr Cicle hesitantly.

Robert could see Mr Cicle turn to look at him, a curious but confused look on his face.

"..uh, sure?" He agreed.

Robert sighed, reaching out a hand for Mr Cicle to guide him. "Sorry its just, really dark. Cant see much." He lied.

Robert took a deep breath. This sucked. So much. This sucked so, so much. But.. he sighed. At least he could still sort of see himself. Losing his camera is never a good thing, but most of the time, as long as its still in close proximity, he's usually able to remotely guide himself until he finds it again.

With Mr Cicle here, though.. it couldnt hurt to get a little extra assistance. Yknow, his visions still completely out of wack, so on his own he could misplace his foot and go tumbling down the stairs. Which wouldnt be fun! But with Mr Cicle guiding him, that possibility's at least a little less likely to happen.

At least he hoped. Mr Cicle gladly took Roberts hand and began taking the first steps down the stairs. Robert grabbed at the walls for support, his legs shaking as he gently reached his foot out to find the next step down. He took a sharp breath each time he put his weight down, the image of him losing his balance and falling face first into the wood playing on repeat in his minds eye.

It wasnt going great so far. But after a moment of awkward silence, he began feeling Mr Cicles eyes on him.

Robert couldnt get a good look of Mr Cicles face through the camera. The two of them were too far away, so their faces were basically just jumbles of colorful pixels. And even worse, Mr Cicle had bright green glasses that completely stopped him from seeing the mans eyes.

But despite all that, he knew he was looking at him.

Maybe it was the fact that he couldnt go down the stairs on his own and was acting like a blind man- even though he technically was. He honestly doubted he was legally allowed to drive at this point.

Or maybe he had made it too obvious that his visions trapped on that camera screen. Most normal people wouldnt shut their eyes and grab for something to steady themsleves after dropping a camera.

Robert grumbled to himself. This was just going great.

Eventually, the two of them made it to the middle of the stairs. It was a lot darker here, and now it seemed like even Mr Cicle was struggling to see.

"Man.. is there a light down here?" The game show host muttered to himself. Even for Robert, it was starting to get kind of hard to see himself in the dark.

Robert hummed, hesitantly putting his foot down on the next step. "There has to be, right?" He added. "I mean.. Quackity and some others went down here, they wouldnt be walking around in pitch darkness, would they?" He suggested.

"Yeah..." Mr Cicle trailed off. "They wouldnt."

Robert flinched and stopped moving as his vision shifted.

Mr Cicle paused and looked at him, confused. "You okay?"

It was then that a faint blue light appeared at the bottom of the stairs, an icy chill running down the twos spines. Mr Cicle slowly turned his head to look at what it was, and was met with a ghostly figure, floating at the bottom of the stairs.

The ghost picked up Roberts camera, turning it around and inspecting it curiously. He had a christmas hat on, the pompom end flopping around his head with randomly flowy motions.

It hummed and grinned to itself, both of the men on the stairs stunned silent.

The ghost glanced up at them and Mr Cicle flinched, Robert grabbing the sides of the stairs harder to keep himself from getting too dizzy.

"Oh, well isnt this an interesting little piece of tech!" The ghost- which looked uncannily similiar to Charlie (it was probably just another one of his characters) spoke, flipping the camera to face himself and smiling again, showing his teeth more. "This belong to you?" He asked.

Robert grimaced at the ghostly sight, instinctually moving his head back to get out of the ghosts face. It did nothing, and he felt stupid.

"Uh- yeah! That belongs to Robert here!" Mr Cicle called out. "Would you be so kind as to return it to him?" He requested, gaining a mischevious look from the ghost.

"Hmmm..." the ghost hummed, performatively stroking his chin and looking at the camera contemplatively. "I could..." he muttered.

A grin crept onto his face.

"...or" he continued. "I could use it to record the next episode of the podcast." He spoke with a grin that showed he was all to proud of himself for coming up with that.

Mr Cicle paused, furrowing his brows and reaching out a hand as if to stop that idea in its tracks. "Uh- no, I dont think you can use that for your podcast, or, whatever it is.." he tried to explain, watching the ghost shoo his hand at him and roll his eyes.

"Why? you dont like sharing?" The ghost asked half heartily.

"W-well no, cause.." Mr Cicle paused. "Uhmm.. well it doesnt belong to you!" He reasoned.

"Okay." The ghost shrugged. "Can I ask the owner for permission to use it?" He asked monotonely.

"Uuh.." Mr Cycle paused, looking over at Robert with a hesitant glance. "I dont know, Robert. Can this man use your camera for a podcast??" He asked.

"No!" Robert exclaimed. "Absolutely not! I need that camera! A-and- it doesnt even work like that, you couldnt properly record anything on there!" He frantically tried reasoning.

"Well, then why do you use it?" The ghost asked with a raised eyebrow. "If its so broken, im sure you wouldnt mind me taking it off your hands." He spoke with a shrug.

Robert cursed under his breath. Why did he say that?? Of course he had to say it was broken, now the ghost will never give it back.

Even Mr Cicle seemed confused by this, looking at Robert and tilting his head. "Wait, yeah... if your cameras broken why are you always recording with it..?" He asked.

"T-that doesnt matter!" Robert tried to distract the two. "Just- give me my camera back! Please!" He pleaded.

"Mmm nope! This is mine now!" The ghost laughed. "If you want it back, you better come get it!" He taunted, turning and zipping out of view.

Robert groaned. "NO! Uughh.." He put a hand up to grab at his hair, shutting his eyes as the vision from his camera turned and moved out of synch with his body. He was starting to feel really motion sick, and it was only getting worse.

Mr Cicle reached out to try and help steady Robert, a look of concern on his face. "Woah- woah! Hey, Robert, you okay??" He asked.

"Im fine! Im fine.." he grumbled. "Can you please go get my camera!" He pleaded.

Mr Cicle paused, looking between Robert and the bottom of the stairs for a moment. Then, he turned to Robert and nodded. "Okay- i'll get it, dont worry." He spoke, turning and dashing down the stairs after the ghost.

"Hey! Come back!" Robert could hear him run off into the basement, his voice getting quieter as he got farther away.

Robert sighed, leaning against the wall as he tried to ignore what was going on in his vision. He took a deep breath, tuning into the sounds around him to try and stay grounded with his body.

He listened to the creaking of the stairs beneath him, the way they felt unstable under his feet. Running his hands along the wall behind him, he tried to visualize where he was standing right now.

He was stood in the middle of the stairs.. leaned against the left wall...

..he could hear some noise from down the stairs..?

He paused, turning to listen for what he had heard. Was that talking? It didnt sound like Mr Cicle. Who was it?

He stood completely still for a while just trying to figure out what it was that he heard. Until it got closer. And slowly he started to realise that people were coming up the stairs.

"Yeah, I dont know what was up with him, man.. I- oh. Robert?" One of the voices spoke, calling out to him.

Robert cleared his throat, leaned against the wall as casually as possible, and turned his head to smile in the direction he'd heard the voices. "Oh, hey guys!" His foot slipped slightly as he tried to lean against the wall, but he managed to catch himself and somewhat keep the pose.

He felt the stairs settle a bit, and he assumed this meant the people coming up them had stopped walking for a second.

"Hey! What are you doing down here?" The voice that had called to him came closer.

"Oh im just- ugh-" Robert stuttered as he felt the stairs shift again, shoving himself back against the wall as it felt like a few people walked past him up the stairs.

A person stumbled a bit and accidentally walked into him.

"Oh, sorry Robert from the backrooms!" The person called, continueing up the stairs again after patting him on the shoulder.

Robert shivered at the slimy texture, reaching up to wipe it off his jacket before pausing. "..from the.. what? Wait what are the backrooms..?" He muttered, following the movement of the stairs shifting with his head, waiting for an answer.

There was no answer, so he turned back to face the other voices, still confused. "Um.. okay, well.. you guys wouldnt have happened to see a.. ghost.. down there, would you?" He asked.

"Oh, boy.. yeah we did." A voice from farther down called out.

"Ough.. yeah.." the voice closest to Robert grumbled. "He forced us to sit in a podcast with him.. I do not reccomend it."

A voice slightly farther than the previous one made a noise of agreement. "Yup. He literally possessed me.. " they shivered. "Stay clear of him if you can." They advised before continueing up the stairs past Robert.

Robert hummed, taking the suggestion into consideration. "Okay... " he nodded. "Well.. he kind of stole my camera, though.. so that might be a bit hard.." he sighed.

"He did?" The voice closest to him asked, and he felt the stairs shift as they came closer to stand beside him. "You mean, like.. the camera you see out of..?" They whispered the last bit, sounding a bit more concerned now.

Robert hesitated. "Um. Yeah..? Wait how do you know that?" He asked anxiously, reaching a hand out to try and find who he was talking to, only to meet something sharp and electric that caused him to pull his hand away fearfully.

"Woah! Okay- dont touch that." The person quickly warned, grabbing Roberts hands gently to keep them from touching anything dangerous. "Its me! Backflippo! I know about your camera thing because i was there when we met you. Do you remember?" He explained hopefully.

Robert wiggled his fingers in backflippos hands, trying to get a feel for where they were but also because he felt awkward with him holding them like that. "Um, yeah, I remember." He nodded. "You have that.. green electric stuff on your shoulder. Im assuming thats what I touched a second ago?"

"Yep.." Backflippo sighed. "Sorry about that, its usually pretty under control.. " he added, sounding a bit defeated. "But- so.. you cant see me right now, right?" He asked.

Robert blinked, noting the fact that right now all he saw was the semi-transparent face of a ghost smiling at his camera. "No. I cant see you." He confirmed.

"Okay, what can you see?" Backflippo asked.

"Uh.." Robert hummed. "The ghost that stole my camera? Dark basement?" He shrugged.

"Okay, that sounds.. dissorienting." Backflippo muttered.

"Tell me about it..." Robert grumbled.

He flinched as he felt the stairs under him shift again, and what he assumed was someone else coming up beside them.

"Hey so, whats going on right now?" The voice asked, and Robert recoiled at the sound of slime moving and dripping right beside him.

Backflippo shifted, Robert assumed he turned to look at the other person. "Oh, I'm just gonna see if I can help Robert get his camera back." He explained.

"Oh- uh, actually." Robert interrupted. "I got Mr Cicle to go get it, you dont- you dont have to go get it for me." He assured Backflippo.

"That weird show host guy? You sent him?" The second voice asked.

"Yes?" Robert answered. "What makes you think he isnt capable?" He asked. "Also, who even are you? I thought the slime guy went upstairs already?"

Robert reached out hesitantly and tried to find whoever it was he was talking to. He grimaced as he felt his hand touch more slime, taking it back and wiping it off on his jacket with a disgusted look on his face.

The voice snickered. "Hey man, keep your hands to yourself! You dont know if I bite or not." They laughed to themselves, which only made Robert more repulsed.

"Ugh okay.." Backflippo spoke up. "Robert, this is Slimecicle. The other guy was just Slime. Theyre both.. made of the same stuff, but theyre very different." He explained.

"Uh, yeah? That other guy is like the exact opposite of me. He doesnt even hide in people's shoes for fun!" He huffed, garnering confused silence from both Robert and Backflippo.

Backflippo took a slow awkward breath and placed one of his hands on Roberts right shoulder. "..okay... well, about your camera." He began. "Are you sure I shouldnt go looking for it anyways? I mean, Mr Cicle doesnt know about your vision thing, does he?" He asked.

Robert sighed. "No, he doesnt.." he muttered, gaining a considerate hum from Backflippo. "..but, I was probably gonna let him know about that once he'd gotten back. I'd feel bad not telling him after this.." he admitted.

"Oh, and he saw me freak out when I dropped my camera, so if I dont explain what was going on, he's just gonna think I was acting crazy." He spoke with an awkward chuckle.

"Ah, fair.." Backflippo sighed. "Okay, well.. we've got a vampire to catch, so we should go." He spoke, gently patting Robert on his shoulder. "Will you be alright here on your own?"

Robert nodded. "Yeah, I think so. Im mostly just standing around waiting for Mr Cicle to come back, so as long as I stand right here, I'll be fine." He smiled, trying to reasure Backflippo.

Backflippo made a noise of hesitation, but sighed anyways. "Alright.. we'll be upstairs. If you need help anytime, just yell." He patted Roberts shoulder again and slowly began walking up the stairs.

Robert smiled and waved them goodbye, listening to the creaking of the stairs get higher and higher as he walked off. He heard Slimecicle snicker closer by and felt a tap on his nose that made him flinch.

"See you later, Rob." Simecicle chuckled. Robert listened as he turned and walked up the stairs behind Backflippo, and slowly dissapeared from his senses.

Robert sighed, silence filling his suroundings again. He didnt like being alone now. But, it would be fine. He reassured himself Mr Cicle would get his camera soon.

He took a deep breath. He was gonna be fine.

~

Well this was going great.

Mr Cicle stared into the pitch black room he'd followed the ghost to. He couldnt see a thing, and he was supposed to go in there to find Roberts camera?

Well great. Just great. He reasured himself it would be fine. Walking into a pitch black room with a ghost he couldnt see, yeah this was fine.

"Ookay..." he huffed, taking a deep breath, pumping out his chest, and taking a shaky step inside. He looked over his shoulder at the small bit of light from the stairs and watched as it was slowly obscured by the door frame.

He sighed, turning to face the darkness again. He jumped as the door slammed shut behind him.

Mr Cicle spun around to face the door, noting how all possible light coming into the room was now completely gone.

He stared wide eyed into the darkness. "U-uhm." He gulped. "Okay.. cool. Awsome. This is great." He spoke to himself. "I love.. the darkness."

Mr Cicle cleared his throat as he slowly started creeping deeper into the room.

"..hello ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to.. the void." He muttered. "I'll be your host, Mr scared." He recited to himself, like saying those familiar lines- all be it a little humorized- would help him be less frightened. He kept walking, speaking more to keep himself grounded.

"I know the maze has a lot of different traps, but 'The Hall of Eternal Darkness' is not one of them." He huffed to himself.

He heard a ghostly chuckle echoe behind him. Spinning around frantically, he saw nothing.

He took a shaky breath, slowly backing away from the noise and continueing slowly in the direction he'd been going.

"Okay.. you want to be scary? Be scary!" He huffed, continueing to step backwards. "I've seen things you cant imagine. Nothing can scare me anymore." He threatened, slowly feeling a shiver run down his spine as he stepped into something cold from behind.

Mr Cicle stopped, standing frozen still as an icy breath could be felt on the back of his neck. He gulped as the room slowly lit up a blue hue, the light coming from something right behind him.

He shut his eyes in resignation as he heard that same chuckle from behind him this time.

A blue semi-transparent face peeked over his shoulder. "Boo." It grinned.

Mr Cicle shivered. He turned and looked hesitantly into the ghosts eyes. "Oh, there you are.." he sighed shakily.

The ghost glared at him for a moment.

"Really?" He droned. "Really! Not even a jump? A flinch??" He gaped. "I do all that work to build up the suspense, and all you say is 'oh THERE you are' EUGHH." He gagged, turning and pouting to himself in the dark.

Mr Cicle hesitated, turning and raising an eyebrow at the ghost, confused. "I.. I mean, yeah?" He shrugged, flinching as the ghost turned to glare at him again. "All you said was 'boo.'" He blinked. "I feel like you were the one who ruined the suspense."

The ghost looked at Mr Cicle and rolled its eyes. "Okay.." it paused. "..fair."

"Well- look." Mr Cicle sighed, running a hand through his hair as he tried to calm his hastily beating heart. "Where's the camera?" He asked.

"Why do you care." The ghost droned.

"Because it belongs to my friend." He grumbled. "And you cant just take things because you want them, thats rude." He reasoned, taking a step closer to the spectre.

The ghost scoffed. "Oh you wanna know what's rude??" It asked rhetorically. "Blowing up your best friend because they decide to leave your podcast!!" He cried. "Like who does that??" There was a slight crack in his voice.

Mr Cicle blinked, going silent for a moment.

The ghost looked away indignently, and Mr Cicle got the feeling the ghost wasnt talking about him.

"Uh.. wow..." Mr Cicle mumbled. "..that is kinda messed up.." He hummed, scratching his chin.

"Right??" The ghost cried. "Augh- you get it! You know- my friends did that exact thing!" He gasped, pointing his finger at Mr Cicle as to punctuate his statement. "I was all like 'hey guys, ive got a lot on my plate right now, i think im gonna go!' And they were like 'thats fine Charlie! Take care of your own needs!' And then on my final episode of the podcast, they send a pipebomb in the mail and fucking kill me!!" The ghost exclaimed, Mr Cicle watching him cross his arms with a huff.

Mr Cicle watched the ghost for another moment, observing his behaviour curiously. He was beginning to get an idea of what this guys deal might be.. so, to test the waters, he decided to take a step closer.

"Well.." he began, taking a small breath. "..I cant say I've gone through that same thing, but, wow.. thats horrible.." He sighed, watching the ghost cautiously to make sure he hadnt accidentally set it off.

The ghost sighed. "..thank you!" He huffed.

Mr Cicle smiled and nodded before going silent. The ghost also remained quiet, avoiding eye contact.

The two of them said nothing.

The ghost made a noise of defeat and visibly slumped down a bit. "..the camera's on the shelf over there... just take it." He sighed, pointing off to his right.

Mr Cicle blinked. "Oh! Wait, really?" He asked, standing still and staring at the ghost.

"Ugh, yes." The ghost grumbled. "It wont really do me any good, and I was just taking it to get attention." He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "It gets kind of lonely in hell.. and I can only visit the living once a year, so I guess..." he paused. "..I dont know."

Mr Cicle frowned. "Hey.. I.." he paused, something about what the ghost had said made him go quiet. "I've gone through something similiar, so I get it." He muttered. "You just have to find people who will understand what you've been through." He offered with a sympathetic smile.

The ghost sighed. "Yeah.." he agreed. "I guess the only people who know what ive been through are Schlatt and Ted.. but theyre the ones who blew me up." He shrugged.

Mr Cicle paused. "Oh."

The ghost huffed. "Yep." He nodded. "Well I might just go see what theyre up to either way. And now that I'm free from the podcast, they dont get to send me back down to hell once theyre done talking to me.." he spoke with a mischevious grin.

"Ha ha.. okay, well you have fun with that.." he laughed hesitantly, watching the ghost rub its hands together and grin to itself before blinking out of existence, plunging the room into darkness once more.

"Oh-" Mr Cicle groaned. "Great." He sighed. This makes finding the camera harder, doesnt it.

"Alright, well..." he hummed to himself. "He said it was... this shelf?" He turned to his right, running his hands along the plank of wood he'd found that was probably the right shelf.

Going slowly- because he literally could not see a thing- he bumped into a few random items, paint cans, and work tools. So far nothing that felt like a camera.

He was starting to wonder if the camera was actually here, until he heard something. A faint mechanical wrring further down the shelf. Looking over in the direction he'd heard it, he noticed a small blinking light reminiscent of the one on Roberts camera.

He sighed in relief as he went to grab it, feeling his hands come into contact with plastic and metal. "There you are.." he huffed, pulling it off the shelf and slipping his hand into the strap on its side. He turned it around in his hands and confirmed to himself that this was in fact Roberts camera, and not some random item that just felt like a camera.

"Lets get you back to your owner." He huffed, slowly walking back in the direction he thought the door was.

Taking a few steps, he stopped as he realised he, in fact, did not know where the door was.

"Uuhmmm..." he stopped, looking around in the darkness for anything. Literally anything. But despite how much he squinted, he just couldnt pick anything up.

Mr Cicle grumbled to himself. "..shoot." he cursed, tapping his foot against the concrete floor impatiently. "This is going to be a problem.." he muttered.

Mr Cicle looked around for a bit, continueing to try and spot anything that would help him leave. But he just couldnt find anything in the dark. He was about to give up and try something else, when he noticed something.

That same wrrring that he'd heard before. Mechanical movement from the camera. He looked down at the illuminated screen on the camera and noticed it was zooming in and out. All on its own.

Mr Cicle watched it hesitantly for a moment as the thing focused and unfocused, repeating the same thing over and over. What was it doing?

"What the.." he gaped, holding the camera up a bit closer as it continued moving all on its own. Was this thing alive?? Is that why Roberts so protective of it? Because its not just a camera, but a living thing?

Mr Cicle scoffed at his own thoughts. "Either youre alive.. or just broken." He huffed, but he paused as he noticed something on the camera screen.

There. In the dark. There was something in the dark.

He looked up from the camera to see what it was, but-

There was nothing there.

"What?"

Mr Cicle looked back down at the camera. And there it was again. There was something on the camera that he couldnt see in person. What even was it?

He squinted at the image, trying to figure out what the vague shape was. The camera kept zooming in and out, which made it a little harder to focus on the shape, but slowly, he started to see more.

The faint outline of a plastic chair slowly began to appear on the camera screen. It was vague, and just barely visible, but it was there. The camera zoomed in and out a couple more times, at which the chair became clearer. And then it stopped. Hesitantly zooming back out and resting at a wide view.

All of a sudden, Mr Cicle could see so much better on the camera than he could in real life.

"Oh.. " Mr Cicle began to realise what the camera had been doing. "You were adjusting to the darkness.." he remarked, holding the camera up and peering around the room with it.

Now that the camera had better adjusted to how little light there was in the room, it was doing a lot better at seeing things than Mr Cicle was. He took this to his advantage, though. By looking through the camera screen, he spun around until he found the vague outline of a door. As soon as he found it, he dead-lined it straight in that direction, grabbed the door handle and shoved it open as hard as he could.

The door swung open faster than he'd expected, causing him to lose balance and stumble forward. "wAGH-"

Mr Cicle yelped, keeping hold of the door handle to try and catch himself. He managed to stay standing, but almost lost his grip on Roberts camera.

"WOAH! O-okay!!" He gasped, tightening his grip on the camera again and properly standing up. He cleared his throat, rolling his shoulders and brushing his suit vest off. He then adjusted his glasses and acted like it never happened.

"Okay! Wow!" He huffed, taking a deep breath and looking around. "That was quite an.. eventful adventure..." he sighed, spotting the staircase out of the basement and feeling a wave of relief wash over him.

"Lets get out of here.." he smiled, making his way towards the stairs.

~

Robert watched the stairs get closer, watched as Mr Cicle turned the corner, and finally spotted himself standing awkwardly in the middle of the stairway.

"Oh." He gulped. "Mr Cicle!" He put on a smile. Robert tried his best to puppet his body into the right position to make it look like he was facing Mr Cicle and waving at him. "You got my camera!" He called, still struggling to stand upright.

"Hey, Robert.." Mr Cicle sighed. "Yeah, I got your camera." he spoke with a smile, huffing as he started walking up the stairs. "It doesnt look too badly damaged, and it still works.. I think.." he muttered, gently holding the camera towards Robert as he finally made it back to him.

Robert reached out tentatively, feeling his whole body relax as he grabbed hold of his camera. "Oh, thank you.." he exhaled, pulling the camera up to his chest and holding it like a lost child. "Ugh.. fuck..." He let out a very relieved groan.

Mr Cicle looked at him with a hesitant smile. He really was starting to wonder what the deal with that camera was..

Robert smiled and let out a very loud exhale. "Wow! Alright, yeah.. uh.." he hesitated, seeming to think for a moment, flicking his camera in Mr Cicles direction. "I have uh.. some stuff to explain..." he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

"..yeah." Mr Cicle hummed, furrowing his eyebrows, a bit confused. "I.. well I dont want to sound rude, but you have been acting strange since dropping your camera." He confessed, looking back down the stairs. "..and... that thing was moving on its own down there... " he added a bit hesitantly.

Robert grimaced. Of course..

"I dont know if its.. alive? Or.. just, really good at adjusting to different light levels- but something's up with it." Mr Cicle concluded, looking at Robert with a concerned gaze.

Robert knew it was coming. After all of this, he couldnt have possibly expected Mr Cicle to not be curious. Which was fair, he supposed.. he just hated having to figure out a way to explain all of this to him.

"Yeah.. thats the thing." Robert sighed, looking back up to the top of the stairs. "Its a little.. complicated." He paused. "..Confusing..." he grumbled.

Mr Cicle chuckled. "Alright? Everything about tonight has been confusing. I'll be able to handle whatever it is." He spoke with a smile.

Robert grumbled an agreement. Everything about tonight had been confusing. He supposed his own thing might not be as confusing as some other things he'd seen.

Robert looked away, sighing.

"Okay, well.. I cant tell you here." He muttered. "I dont know if you heard, but that vampire guy is on the loose, and I dont want him hearing about this." Robert grumbled, peering up at the top of the stairs hesitantly.

"Oh!" Mr Cicle blinked. "You mean the vampire that puppeted people into attacking everyone??" He asked, a new concern appearing on his face. "That vampire's on the loose??"

Robert sighed. "Yes."

"Huh. Well then." Mr Cicle gulped. "I uh.. I guess I could find somewhere he wouldnt hear..? Or.. probably wouldnt." He huffed, glancing up the stairs as well and slowly stepping up towards the basement door.

Robert raised an eyebrow and followed behind him slowly. "Oh? And where would that be?" He asked.

Mr Cicle smiled. "Somewhere quiet." He answered simply, only confusing Robert even more.

Robert furrowed his eyebrows, and slowed a bit, trying to think of anywhere quiet in the house he could be talking about.

He scoffed to himself. Considering how many people were in the house right now, he didnt think anywhere in the place was quiet.

Well, he couldnt be so sure. Clearly Mr Cicle had somewhere in mind, so he might as well follow and see where this went.

So, following the game show host out of the basement, he kept a keen eye out- or a keen lens out- for anyone that looked vageuly vampirish. Mr Cicle didnt look quite as worried, but he seemed at least a little cautious as well.

Eventually, they reached the back door of the house where Mr Cicle stopped.

Robert paused as Mr Cicle did, looking between him and the outside.

"Oh." He blinked. "Of course. The quiet place is outside." He huffed.

"Yep." Mr Cicle smiled. "Hope you dont mind the cold.. but it should be away from most prying eyes." He offered, gently opening the door and gesturing courtly for Robert to exit.

Robert chuckled at him, bowing his head as he walked through the door and onto the backyard porch. Mr Cicle hadnt been lying about the cold. Robert felt his whole body shiver once he was outside.

Mr Cicle huffed as he stepped through the door behind Robert. He kept hold of the door handle and smoothly shut it right behind him. He then turned to watch Robert look around for a moment, who was looking a little hesitant as he sat down on the porch stairs.

Mr Cicle sighed, going to sit down beside Robert. Robert seemed to be collecting his words for a moment, so Mr Cicle took the time to look up and watch the stars while waiting for him to talk.

Robert on the other hand was fiddling with the strap on his camera as he thought of what to say.

He couldnt just say, straight up, 'hey my camera is my eyes.'.. could he..?

It would be dumb.. but...

Robert groaned. He might as well just go for it. Say the first thing that comes to mind and go from there.

Robert turned to look at Mr Cicle, finding him dead silent facing the sky.

He hesitantly cleared his throat.

Mr Cicle snapped out of his star gazing. "Oh." He saw Robert looking at him a bit cautiously, so he turned to face him better.

"..go ahead." He encouraged with a soft gaze.

Robert let out a tense breath, glancing away for a moment and rolling his eyes.

Get it over with.

"Uhm.. " he gulped, quickly glancing over his shoulder at the back door, just to make sure that vampire wasnt actively listening in. Or, anyone else, for that matter..

He sighed, turned, and started to speak.

"My vision is trapped on this camera." He admitted, not looking at Mr Cicle, who remained silent.

"I havent told anyone yet, because- well its a pretty dumb weakness.." he muttered. "Especially with all this evil bug stuff going on, I'd hate to know what they might do if they found out." He spoke, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

"There are a few people who know about it already.. but they only know because they were there when I first showed up." He sighed. "I think it was.. Xiv.. and gillion, and.. Backflippo and Charlie... and they only found out because Xiv thought I was acting weird and decided to find out why." He spoke with a slight chuckle.

He hesitantly glanced over at Mr Cicle, noticing how his eyebrows were furrowed and his lip pressed into a thin line. The show host almost looked at Roberts eyes for a moment, before pausing, and slowly looking down to gaze into the camera lens.

Robert felt his whole body tense as for the first time that night- or for the first time in who knows how long.. someone actually looked him in the eyes.

He immediately pulled the camera away to face straight ahead, a strange feeling in his chest flaring up like electricity.

"Uhm-" he stuttered. "Yeah- so.. when I dropped my camera down the stairs, I honestly thought.." he paused, wondering what else he should tell Mr Cicle about this dumb curse of his. "..I thought... " he trailed off.

"..Robert." Mr Cicle spoke up, making him jump.

Robert turned to look back at Mr Cicle, finding that he was still looking directly down the lens of his camera.

"I.. I did hear you correct, Right? Your vision.. is trapped on that camera. Meaning, all you see comes out of that little lens right there." He spoke, pointing at the cameras lens.

Robert gulped, gritting his teeth and looking away awkwardly.

"Y-yeah.. thats pretty much the situation..." he muttered.

"I cant.. imagine.. what that must be like..." Mr Cicle spoke slowly. "..to have your.. entire perception of reality come out of, this tiny little box." He gently reached out a hand towards the camera, almost subconsiously. Like he was so curious he didnt realise he was moving.

Robert jerked the camera away from Mr Cicles hand, seeing him snap out of his curiosity and pull his hand back.

"Sorry." Mr Cicle blinked. "Its just.. interesting." He hummed.

Robert laughed at that, rolling his eyes at the idea. "Yeah.. interesting is one way of describing it." He spoke grimmly.

Mr Cicle raised an eyebrow, tilting his head at Robert. "Well.. how would you describe it?" He asked, watching Robert pause and contemplate the question for a moment.

"I.." Robert hesitated. "I dont know.."

"Its like.. that feeling when you wake up and you've been lying on your arm all night, and its circulation is so cut off you cant even feel it. And youre just.. holding it with your other hand feeling it move around out of sync with you." He muttered, looking ahead deep in thought. "But even that isnt a good comparison, cause I can still feel my body, im just.. disconnected from it." He held his camera out in front of him to almost show the distance he felt between him and his body. "Its weird... it feels bad." He concluded.

Robert turned to look at Mr Cicle again, seeing his eyes flick about under his green lenses as he tried to rationalize Roberts description in his head. He seemed to understand to some extent, nodding faintly as he stared ahead.

"Thats.. a horrible way to be stuck living.." he mumbled, running a hand over his face and resting it over his mouth, a look of almost disbelief and sympathy in his expression.

"Heh, yeah.. tell me about it.." Robert grumbled. "Oh but imagine trying to escape giant snake lady monsters and skin men in some archictural nightmare of a maze while also having to deal with this camera thing." He offered, turning to grin at Mr Cicle and gesture his camera around like a dumb toy.

Mr Cicle gasped. "Oh- goodness, thats horrid." He spat, looking at Robert with a grimace.

Robert smiled. "Ha! Yeah!" He actually laughed. "I am honestly so glad Charlie found me, because if I had spent another day or two in that hell I might have actually lost it." He spoke with a sigh, not noticing how Mr Cicle went quiet.

Robert let out another sigh and stared out at the backyard. "I do not want to go back there once this is all over." He huffed, leaning back on one of his palms a bit.

Mr Cicle chuckled faintly. "..that makes two of us..." he muttered.

Robert hummed, turning his camera to look at Mr Cicle. The man was leaned forward, elbows rested on his thighs and his gaze focused on the distance.

"I do not. Ever. Want to go back to my place." Mr Cicle spoke, such certianty in his tone that it made Robert sit up a bit.

"Oh...?" Robert trailed off. "..what was it like?" He asked hesitantly. He grimaced as he noticed the instant look of discomfort that came over Mr Cicles face at the question.

The game show host was silent for a moment. But after a small while, he looked over at Robert with a soft smile and a faint laugh. "Are we really doing a joint therapy session right now?" He asked somewhat humurously. "I thought we came out here for you to talk, I dont want to intrude on your time to speak."

Robert scoffed, tossing a hand forward to brush the idea away. "Who cares. Weve all got issues. Weve all come from the head of the same guy. Were all here together." He offered, giving Mr Cicle a considerate smile. "I think the most we can all do for each other is offer some solidarity in how fucked up our lives can be." He spoke, looking Mr Cicle dead in the eyes as best he could.

Mr Cicle looked up into Roberts eyes, smiling for a moment, before hesitating as he noticed just how empty they actually were.

He could tell Robert was moving them to look at him intentionally. But they felt as if they were prepetually staring at something far off behind him. Staring off into the distance with no set target.

Mr Cicle huffed, glancing down just below Roberts chest and locking eyes with his camera. "You make a fair point." He muttered, turning to look ahead in silence again.

"But where do I even begin..." he huffed, wringing his palms together between his knees as he furrowed his eyebrows in contemplation.

"Well, where did it all start?" Robert offered.

Mr Cicle chuckled. "Ah.. well its been so long I can barely remember.."

"I.. used to have a good life. I had friends- who I've since forgotten the names of. I had a home- which I've since forgotten as well... I guess the only thing I was missing was a job." Mr Cicle huffed

"Somewhere. Somehow. I found a job at 'The Maze' as the host of the show. Out of everyone who auditioned they chose me, and I had been so excited to put my acting skills to use, and make a name for myself on the big screen..." He spoke slowly, Robert noticing a faint, reminiscent smile on his face. "I guess I'd been so happy I hadnt questioned a lot of the red flags about that place.." Mr Cicle trailed off.

"When they were making my persona for the show.. they asked me what my name was and found it simple enough to let me use my last name for the show.. 'Cicle'.. Charlie Cicle. Thats my actual name." He looked gently over at Robert. "It fit well enough, and I was all set. They gave me my suit, showed me to my studio, and shut the door for my first day on the job.."

"And it was one of the worst days of my life..." he spoke weakly.

"That show wasnt a show at all. The contestants woke up without any knowledge of how they ended up there, and once they actually entered the maze, they started dropping like flys." He hissed.

Robert noticed Mr Cicles hands twisting around each other tightly, his knuckles almost white.

"Traps at every corner. Pitfalls at every slope. The first group didnt even make it past the second section before they were all dead.. " Mr Cicle grit his teeth.

"Jesus..." Robert gasped.

Mr Cicle chuckled. "Yeah..." he hummed. "I was horrified, to say the least..."

"But.. when I had had enough... and I'd decided to leave.. never come back.." Mr Cicle trailed off. "..I couldnt."

Robert stared at the empty look in Mr Cicles eyes.

"The thing is, they hadnt even locked the door to my recording studio. They didnt need to.. when I left that room and started walking down the hallway to the exit... it just didnt end..."

"I remember passing the door to the studio three times before I really started to panic.. running, and running, and running.. just the same thirty feet of hallway repeated over and over and over..."

"After that... I.. sort of gave up." He admitted, looking away meakly. "Started counting the days. One day, after the next, after the next.. after the next... and each new day there was a new group of contestants. Each new day, a new group of bodies litering the maze.. " he muttered. "I lost count of how long I'd been there once it had been longer than a year..."

Mr Cicle went silent for a moment. Robert did the same, and stared off into the backyard with a horrified look on his face.

After a tense moment of quiet.. Mr Cicle took a deep breath and spoke up again. "After a while... and I mean a while... I got good at hiding the pain." He spoke slowly. "Cameras could come on live at any moment, and being seen sobbing your eyes out on live television was never the best experience... so, I had to switch it up. Put on a facade. I got good at acting like everything was fine."

He looked down a bit awkwardly for a moment. "Thats why.. if youve seen me around much today, you probably will have noticed how little I react to most things." He spoke with a slight chuckle. "I think I spent so long acting like im fine, Ive stopped being able to actually express my emotions properly." He muttered, not seeming to give the idea much thought.

Robert stared open mouthed at Mr Cicle, who wasnt reacting much.

Yep, okay he really wasnt lying. The guy was practically stone faced talking about this.

Mr Cicle looked over at Robert, who seemed absolutely gobsmacked about what he'd just heard. Mr Cicle coughed, sitting up straight and rubbing the back of his neck as he looked away. "Ah.. sorry..." he apologized. "Thats a lot to just.. let out in one go..." he admitted.

"Oh- uh" Robert sat up. "No! No its fine! I asked, okay? You just dilevered a bit more than i was expecting..." he muttered, looking away a bit dazed.

He had known Mr Cicle spent a long time in whatever place hed come from, but geez... that was a lot worse than hed thought it would be...

Mr Cicle was looking off to his side, avoiding eye contact with Robert as he tapped a finger impatiently against his knee. Robert couldnt see his face, but he clearly noticed when he took a deep breath, and gently looked up at the stars above them.

The show hosts anxious fidgeting slowed to a stop once he was watching the sky.

Robert smiled at that. "Well, hey.. at least youre out now, right?" He offered, Mr Cicle pausing and turning to look at him again with a silent gaze. Robert huffed. "And the stars are still here. So, however long you were in there for, it wasnt long enough for them to burn out just yet." He smiled at Mr Cicle.

For a moment, this seemed to comfort the man. Mr Cicle nodded, a faint smile forming on his face as he thought about it.

But then he paused.

Robert realised what he'd done.

"I never told you I was afraid the stars would die out.." Mr Cicle muttered, looking up at Robert with a hesitant expression on his face. Though, for a moment he chuckled. "I mean.. thats one lucky read on me, huh.."

Robert stared at Mr Cicle wide eyed.

"Oh. Yeah. Right, haha! Uhm..- one lucky read!" He started to sweat.

Mr Cicle squinted his eyes at Robert.

Robert stared back really hoping Mr Cicle wouldnt think any harder about this.

The show host tilted his head at Robert and raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "You know, just because your vision is trapped on that camera, doesnt mean your face is too." He droned.

"What." Robert blinked, turning his camera around to face himself.

He groaned as he realised he'd been staring wide eyed at Mr Cicle the whole time. "Okay. Uh, fair. I dont have the best poker face." He grumbled, turning his camera around again to face Mr Cicle. "I guess theres still some stuff I havent told you..."

Mr Cicles gaze softened a bit and he tilted his head at Robert. "I see." He hummed. "Maybe you should have a turn telling your story." He offered.

Robert sighed, letting his shoulders fall a bit. "Maybe.." he huffed. "My story's.. surpisingly similiar to yours, I guess."

Robert raised his camera, staring off at the city in the distance as he took a slow breath. "Things started out pretty unassuming.." he began. "My sister had gone missing a week before, and I was determined to find her. So, the first place I decided to check was her school, which had been closed down since."

"I brought this camera with me- which, at the time wasnt what I was seeing out of. But I drove to her school, broke in, and went to find the breaker so I could turn all the lights on. Once I found it..." Robert trailed off.

Mr Cicle gave him a sympathetic look, listening quietly as Robert took a moment to find his words.

"Well.." Robert continued. "I turned on the breaker, and walked back up to the rest of the school. And thats when I realised something was wrong."

"The school wasnt the same as when I'd entered. The layout changed all on its own and the halls and the classrooms just kept going for as long as I could walk. It wouldnt have been that scary if I was all on my own in that maze... but I wasnt.." Robert spoke almost under his breath.

"Monsters, and ghosts, and little girl dolls, all trapped in that hell the same as me. I remember.. the first of the entities I met was a small doll, dressed like a little girl. She'd move when you werent watching her. I tried and failed to trap her in a broom closet.. and when she got me..." Robert trailed off.

"Well.." he sighed. "I think thats when my vision got trapped in this thing." Robert spoke, tapping his camera and turning it to look at Mr Cicle.

"She ripped my eyes out."

Robert saw Mr Cicles eyes widen an inch.

"She tore them right out of their sockets, letting me bleed out from the gaping holes in my face." He spoke, a slight crack in his voice. "But the thing is..." he looked away. "I didnt die."

"Once that doll had actually killed me, I woke up back where I started.. completely unscathed." Robert shrugged.

"I dont know how, or why.. but from that point on, my mortality was directly linked to this cameras survival." He spoke, turning it to face Mr Cicle again. "Every time a new monster killed me, I'd wake up again somewhere new and start the whole escape process over again."

"Oh yeah!" Robert sat up a bit, making Mr Cicle flinch at the sudden movement. "I forgot to say, there were different levels." He hummed. "First it was the school. That was the beginning of it. Then, after finding an elevator, I managed to take it down to a new level, which was a library."

"That levels monster wasnt really that special- I mean, I actually managed to escape it without dying even once!" Robert laughed, still a little proud of how easily hed escaped that one. "It was this humanoid thing with an ear for a head, and it wore a jumper. If I made any noise, it would immediately come running after me and tear up whatever spot it heard me at last." He explained.

Mr Cicle nodded at that, furrowing his eyebrows as he thought about it.

"Yeah.. so pretty easy." Robert shrugged. "The next level was a lot more.. unnerving.." he trailed off.

"I managed to escape that one unscathed too, but it was still one of the scarier ones.. its monster was this.. tall, skinny man walking upside down on its hands.. and it made this- awful gutteral groaning noise all the time." He recalled, shivering at the memory.

"The next few levels were.. fine.." he sighed, leaning forward a bit and running a hand down the back of his neck. "There was this ghost in one of them. It would only show up in the dark and it... I honestly dont know what it did when it caught me.. it was so fast it was kinda just, searing pain and then I woke up back at the start again." Robert shrugged. "But none of that compares to the next level..."

Mr Cicle raised an eyebrow and listened to Robert silently. He had this look in his eye, that Robert could tell he was listening and feeling for his story. He just didnt show it much.

Robert huffed. "Yeah.. uhm.." Robert gulped. "Do you know.. what it feels like.. to be fully conscious while your entire body is actively being digested inside of a giant snake?" He asked Mr Cicle, turning to look him in the eyes with a pained expression.

The show host blinked, his lips parting for a moment like he wanted to say something. But he just stared wide eyed at Robert without a word.

"No.. no I dont." He finally muttered.

Robert chuckled to himself. "Good. You dont want to!" He laughed, turning to stare into the distance again. "This snake, lady, thing. It would slither around the next level- these pool rooms. And if it saw me moving, it would lock onto me with its big fucking eyes and come slithering over faster than I could run. It made these horrible whispering noises- but it wasnt even actual words, just.. a poor imitation of human speech.." he spoke with a sigh.

"Not only did the pools have that snake monster, but it also had the skin man- again! He was just there." Robert shrugged, looking back over at Mr Cicle again.

He paused for a moment, thinking back on everything that happened and whincing at the memories.

"..I dont want to be.. shoved under clorinated water again, and.. ripped open within seconds... " he muttered, his shoulders rising a bit as he remembered the bloody water he laid in, slowly drowning on his own gore. "..Or eaten alive and digested for hours..." he grit his teeth, shuddering at the feeling of crushing bones and melting skin. "..or... have my eyes torn out by little doll hands.." he muttered, shutting his eyes at the idea of it happening again. What felt like uncontrollable tears streaming down his face, actually just being his own blood pouring from his open skull.

"I cant do that again. I'd lose it." Robert spat. "And- im so glad to be out here with everyone- even if its, flipped my perception of reality upside down. Knowing all of that was just some scary story in the head of some guy.." he sighed. "I dont really care. Because i'd rather be just some guys character in the real world, then go back to that hell."

Robert flinched as he felt Mr Cicle put a gentle hand on his shoulder.

He turned his camera to look over at him, finding the show host to be looking at him with such sympathy.. it felt uncharacteristic.

"You're free now." Mr Cicle spoke, his eyes looking at him so certianly, it made Robert sit up a bit. "You dont have to worry about any of that anymore." He spoke as reassuringly as possible, a look of genuine pain and empathy in his gaze.

Robert looked at Mr Cicle for a moment. He forced a bit of a smile at those words, but turned to look away again in discomfort.

"But I do.." he muttered, ignoring the look of confusion Mr Cicle gave him. "Even though im out of that maze, im still trapped to this camera. Mr Cicle.." he trailed off, looking back over at the show host again, a tired look in his eyes.

"..I've seen you die." He spoke slowly. "I've seen everyone in this place die, in one way or another... because I'm still cursed." Robert took a long shaky breath. "When those bugs first showed up, you were outside stargazing.. and the sound of your dying screams was the first warning of their arrival."

"I watched Troy murder Peter in cold blood before coming after me.. and then I died, and woke up again minutes before the attack."

Mr Cicle was silent, his eyebrows furrowing more as he looked away slightly.

"I died.. so many times.. just to get everyone in that house out safely... and no one even knows it happened." Robert spoke, incredulous. "They all just think it was luck that we got out of there alive, but I saw every other outcome where we didnt. And all the pain. And the agony. And all of that horror.. it just didnt happen... but I saw it.. and it hurt." He choked out, going to quickly wipe away tears that began to form.

"I cant be free as long as im stuck with this stupid camera." Robert huffed, taking a few deep breaths to try and re-steady himself. "And even if we manage to escape these bugs without dying anymore, the plan is still to send everyone back to their own worlds- and I cant do that! I dont wanna go back!" He cried, finally feeling his emotions well up more and more, failing to keep them down.

"I cant.. I cant do that..." he sniffled. "Not again. Never again. I'll find a way to run off here before I let them send me back."

Robert sat there for a while, sniffling and stuttering, trying to wipe small tears away and act like he wasnt crying. But he wasnt doing a very good job.

Mr Cicle merely watched, his eyes half lidded and his gaze unsettled. He looked like he wanted to say something, but watching Robert struggle to keep himself together, he thought it best to let him sort it out himself. Anyways, he might not be the best at comforting him.

Robert looked away as Mr Cicle did, the two of them now just staring out into the quiet backyard without a word.

"..sorry..." Robert sniffled a small apology as he finally dried all his tears.

"Its okay.." Mr Cicle gently reassured him.

Robert sighed, a loud, exhausted sigh as he properly sat up. Mr Cicle did the same when he noticed Robert, readjusting his bowtie a bit as he sat up better.

"So, uhm.." Robert gulped, running a hand through his hair as he took a deep breath. "I guess i went a little off topic there.. but.. the reason i knew about your fear of the stars burning out, is because you told me about it once when i was trying to stop you from going outside."

Mr Cicles gaze softened a bit at that, glancing over at Robert.

"You were going out to look at the stars, and i asked why you were so adamant about it.. and you basically said that, youd spent so long trapped in the maze, you thought that by-"

"..I thought that by the time I was free, all the stars would have burnt out..." Mr Cicle interrupted, finishing Roberts sentence as he trailed off.

Robert turned to look at him, stunned quiet for a moment. "Yeah." he nodded slowly. "Yeah thats.. basically what you told me.."

Mr Cicle chuckled quietly to himself, a small, genuine smile on his face. "Interesting to think i mentioned that to you before, and yet here, talking to you now, i dont remember it ever happening."

"What, like- us talking to each other like this was always going to happen?" Robert laughed.

Mr Cicle shrugged. "Who knows." He hummed. "But i guess theres something about each of us that we can both find comfort in."

"Hm.." Robert nodded faintly. "Like what?"

Mr Cicle raised an eyebrow, turning to glance at Robert silently for a moment.

"Well.." he started. "I guess were both parralels of each other."

"You were trapped in a maze, cursed to relive the same nightmare over and over. And i was trapped as the conductor of a maze, isolated and cursed to narrate the sufferings of others." Mr Cicle explained, looking gently over at Robert.

"You experienced so much death. And i experienced none of it. And we both had too much of what one of us wanted.. it became a burden."

"You- im assuming- wanted isolation from the pain and the horrors."

"And i wanted... death. Something you had too much of."

"Woah- okay-" Robert stuttered, raising his hands a bit as he looked at Mr Cicle concerned.

"Too much??" Mr Cicle whinced.

"Too much." Robert gasped, looking at Mr Cicle with a concerned gaze. "When did you become such a morbid philosopher?"

Mr Cicle laughed. "Ah.. well when you spend so much time with only yourself to talk to, you kind of start to over-analyze your very existence a little too much." He spoke with a shrug. "So I guess I can get a bit preechy sometimes."

"Yeah..." Robert muttered. "That would make sense.."

Mr Cicle sighed and looked away a bit awkwardly at that.

"Woah! No hey-" Robert blurted quickly. "I think its cool! Honestly- id be stoked if i was able to talk so dramatically all the time!"

Mr Cicle glanced over at him with a faint smile, slightly confused. Though, he seemed amused, at least. "Really.." he scoffed.

"Yeah! Totally! OH OH-" Robert gasped, excitedly going to grab Mr Cicles shoulders and turning him to face him better. "I need you to say.... 'luke... I am your father'." He spoke with a deep grovelly voice, and the biggest grin Mr Cicle had ever seen on his face.

The show host stared slightly dumbfounded at Robert for a good moment, wondering how exactly he was supposed to go about that.

Robert noticed his slight hesitance and gasped. "Do you not have star wars where youre from??" He asked, astounded. "Oh my god- wait you have to- NO- no its.. forget it, just say the line..." he sighed, shaking his head and sitting back a bit.

Mr Cicle blinked at that, opening his mouth but not saying anything for a moment.

After a second.. he cleared his throat, shut his eyes for added drama, sat up a bit, and slowly began to speak...

"Luke.." Mr Cicle hissed, furrowing his eyebrows and opening his eyes to stare into Roberts camera dramatically.

"...I am your father."

Robert kicked his feet up and grinned even wider than before. "AAAAAAHHH YES!!!" He squealed, shaking his fists in excitment. "Thats awsome!!!" He exclaimed with a laugh.

Mr Cicle smiled, laughing a bit at Roberts reaction.

"OH!" Robert gasped. "Can you say 'come with me if you want to live'." He spoke with a strange accent, gaining another confused laugh from Mr Cicle.

"Okay.." the show host chuckled.

"..come with me if you want to live." He spoke sinisterly.

Robert was practically jumping out of his seat at this. "Agh!! Thats so cool!!" He grinned. "Okay! Last one! 'Fly, you fools!' "

"Fly! You fools!" Mr Cicle grinned, adding some dramatic hand gestures and leaning forward a bit.

"DUDE!!" Robert was exstatic. "AGH you could be an actor!!"

"I am an actor!" Mr Cicle laughed.

Robert slapped a hand against his forehead with a groan. "Right! You are.." he laughed.

"Okay, uuuhh..." Robert hummed, bringing a hand up to scratch his chin. "You could be a... really... ominous.. weather reporter." He joked half heartedly.

Mr Cicle chuckled. "Really."

"Look, I dont know.." Robert sighed, grinning a bit awkwardly. "First thing that came to mind." He shrugged.

Mr Cicle nodded at that, humming thoughtfully. "Well.. I could be a really ominous weather reporter." He spoke with a grin, reaching into his vest and pulling out a microphone from seemingly no where.

Robert blinked. "Wait- where did you get that-"

"Ahem!" Mr Cicle cleared his throat. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to your local news station where today, I will be giving you all a brief summary of todays weather forecast.." he immediately got into character, speaking into his mircophone which wasnt connected to anything.

Mr Cicle gestured a few things to Robert with his hands, but Robert just looked at him a little confused.

Mr Cicle groaned. "You're the camera man!" He huffed, sitting back up again and readjusting his suit like he was actually in front of an audience.

"Oh!" Robert gasped, rolling his shoulders and positioning his camera up to frame Mr Cicle nicely for whatever bit they were doing.

Mr Cicle cleared his throat. "So! Skys are clear, with no clouds in sight. All of... whatever city this is.. will be staying up late to see just how bright tonights stars can get..." he trailed off, pausing for a moment.

Mr Cicle looked over at Robert, whispering. "Robert, what would an ominous weather reporter say?" He asked. "How do I make the weather seem ominous??"

Robert shrugged. "I dont know. I thought you were an actor! Youre supposed to be good at improve! Just figure something out!" He whispered back.

Mr Cicle huffed, sitting back up properly and readjusting his bowtie. "Well, ladies and gentlemen.. dont star gaze for too long, tonight, because these stars are a little dangerous." He spoke a bit unsure, but smiling none the less.

"Theyre so beautiful.. you might just.. lose yourself... watching them...." Mr Cicle slowly trailed off, opening his eyes wide and dramatically looking up at the sky with a look of mock wonder on his face.

Robert snorted, grinning at the show hosts suprisingly unsettling acting.

He chuckled to himself, slowly panning his camera up to look at the sky. He kept smiling for a while, panning around to see if he could find any stars, but eventually, he paused.

Roberts smile faded a bit as he realised.. he couldnt actually see any stars.

Mr Cicle must have noticed his dissapointed expression, because after a little while, he paused, coming out of his acting bit and looking over at Robert silently. He hesitantly put his microphone away.

Robert huffed, zooming in on the sky, and zooming back out again to see if he could adjust to the skys light levels, but it didnt seem to do much. He kept trying, but it wasnt getting much better.

Mr Cicle tilted his head. "Whats wrong?" He asked, gaining a bit of a sigh from Robert.

"I think my cameras exposure is so bad it cant pick up any of the stars light." He whined, dropping his camera to look back out at the backyard again with a huff. "Figures.."

Mr Cicle furrowed his eyebrows, looking back up at the sky, and all the twinkling stars that filled it.

He frowned.

"I could try and up the exposure?" Mr Cicle offered, turning to look over at Robert again.

Robert looked over at Mr Cicle curiously.

"I know how to work most cameras.. since, it was kind of a requirement for my job at the maze." Mr Cicle shrugged. "So I should be able to help you see more, hopefully.." he smiled, gently reaching out a hand towards Robert, offering to take his camera.

Robert moved his camera back slightly, a little unsure at the idea of handing his camera over. He looked at Mr Cicle with a hesitant gaze, stopping as he noticed the expression on his face.

Mr Cicle looked at Robert, trying his best to look as friendly as possible. "..only if youre okay with it." He spoke, genuinely.

Robert paused for a moment. Hesitant.

But after a tense minute.. he gently handed his camera over to Mr Cicle.

The game show host took a careful breath, carrying the camera over to hold it in front of him, peering down at the illuminated screen.

Despite having held it a little while ago, now he knew just how important this camera was, and felt much more nervous holding it himself. He could see Roberts livelyness in it now, noticing the way it focused on different things and zoomed slightly at each movement. It wasnt just a camera, but his friend.

And he was holding it in both of his hands. So very gently.

Hesitantly reaching up to touch the screen, he found the buttons that let him access the settings.

Robert would have liked to see what Mr Cicle was doing, but the best he got was watching as his vision flashed between different kinds of weird.

Super bright, to super dark, then somewhere in between, and now the colors were all off. It was all starting to feel a little strange.

But after a moment, Mr Cicle slowly raised his camera up to face the sky, peering into the screen as he kept adjusting the settings. Robert held his breath and tapped his finger against the porch beneath him anxiously, just hoping hed find something that worked soon.

Mr Cicle bit his lip, furrowing his brow as he kept looking for a setting he could adjust to help make the stars show up better.

After a quiet minute.. Robert gasped.

Mr Cicle perked up, glancing over at Robert to see his eyes wide and mouth open. His shoulders dropped slightly as his body stared out into the backyard. But Mr Cicle looked back to the camera, held up at the sky, and noticed just how many stars he could see on its screen.

"Oh wow.." Mr Cicle muttered, looking between the sky and Roberts camera, and noticing that somehow, hed managed to get it to pick up more stars than even he could see in person.

Mr Cicle smiled, leaning back on one of his hands to look up at the stars. He kept holding the camera up facing the sky, just so Robert would be able to keep watching them too.

And boy, he sure was.

Robert stared ahead in wonder. Watching the stars in all their pixelated glory, he even started to notice a few colours faintly behind them. It was like he was seeing a ghost he couldnt see before. A very sparkly, colorful ghost.

He didnt even realise he was starting to smile.

They both sat there in silence, neither one of them feeling the need to say anything. Just listening to the wind, and focusing on the lights. It was peaceful. So, very peaceful.

A nice change of pace compared to how the rest of the night had been going.

For just that moment, they didnt have to worry about a single thing.

But then, a rain drop hit Roberts camera lens.

He sat up, eyes widening at the sudden distraction.

Not only had a raindrop appeared on his screen, but slowly, the stars began to dissapear as dark clouds came rolling in over the LA sky.

Another raindrop hit Roberts lens.

And then it started to faintly fall one by one on the porch around them.

Roberts breath hitched, and he sat up as more and more rain began to fall around them.

Mr Cycle looked around, confused. "Oh.. I guess.. my weather forecast wasnt the most accurate." He mumbled, slowly lowering Roberts camera and resting it on his lap.

More and more rain began to fall, water no longer only hitting the cameras lens, but pattering onto its casing as well.

Robert felt his heart skip a beat. "No!" He panicked. "NO! My camera breaks in water!" He cried.

Robert fumbled to find where his camera was, feeling his hands grab onto Mr Cicles shoulder, leaning closer to try and reach towards his lap. His anxiety only grew as the rain grew stronger. And stronger.

It started to pour unusually quickly.

"Mr Cicle!" He couldnt lose this. He begged, please he couldnt lose this.

Not after this. He couldnt die and go back right after opening up to someone like that. He couldnt lose his new friend. Not now.

Mr Cicle noticed Roberts frantic behaviour, awkwardly standing up a bit and trying to shield his face from the now pouring rain. "What? Are you okay?" He asked.

"No!" Robert cried. "If my camera gets wet i'll die! Where is it??"

"Oh!" Mr Cicles eyes went wide.

Robert didnt even have time to get it himself as Mr Cicle jumped into action.

The speed at which he managed to unbutton his vest was unprecedented. Instantly using the right half to wrap up Roberts camera and tuck it close to his chest, cradling it with his right arm as he used his other to guide Robert beside him.

Roberts breathing was fast and his hands were fumbling to figure out where he was. All he could see was the inside of Mr Cicles vest and the rest of his forest green dress shirt. And all he could feel was pouring rain and an arm around his shoulders, slowly walking them both somewhere he couldnt tell.

"Can- can I-" Robert stuttered, wanting to ask for his camera. He was interrupted as he ran into a small ledge by his feet- "aAH!" He gasped, feeling Mr Cicles arm pull him back to keep him from falling forward.

"Woah! Okay-" Mr Cicle cursed. "Just step over. Thats the bottom of the door frame, were heading inside." He gently explained, slightly drowned out by the rain shower around them.

Robert paused, taking a breath to steady himself and raising his foot slightly higher. Stepping down, he felt it hit carpeted floor.

The inside door mat.

Robert let out a sigh as he walked forward, stepping out of Mr Cicles grasp. He grabbed a hold of the open door to keep himself from falling over, but managed to get inside and shake himself off well enough on his own.

Mr Cicle seemed a little suprised by that, but shrugged it off. He used both hands to hold Roberts camera under his vest now, stepping inside and shaking himself off as the door slowly closed.

The show host sighed, raising a soaking arm and looking at himself with a defeated frown. "This'll take hours to dry..." he whined, adjusting his bow which sat half undone, soaked as well.

Robert put his hands against the sides of his head, taking a deep breath and leaning against the wall to try and calm down.

He was fine. Everything was fine.

"You alright?" Mr Cicle called to Robert, watching him perk up as he took his camera out from under his vest. He wiped it off from the remaining rain, and handed it to him, watching Robert relax again now that it was back in his own hands.

Robert stood up a bit, nodding his head. "Yeah. Im alright." He huffed. "Thanks for that."

Mr Cicle smiled. "Its no problem." He nodded.

It was just then that Gillion Tidestrider came walking around the corner.

"Woah!" Gillion paused. "Did the undersea start pouring out there?" He asked with a bit of a smile.

Robert and Mr Cicle both stared back at him, dripping wet in the middle of the hallway.

"The what?" Robert blinked.

"Uh.. i guess you could call it that?" Mr Cicle glanced between gillion and the back door. "Yeah?" He shrugged.

"Huh. You guys look like youre well aquanted with it, then." He shrugged, turned, and walked off to find the living room.

Robert and Mr Cicle stared down the hallway at where the fish man had been last, both too confused to say anything.

Mr Cicle opened his mouth, about to say something.. but he paused. Shook his head. And took off his glasses to wipe the rain off them.

Robert turned to watch him grab his wet vest, use it to wipe off his glasses, put them back on, and then grumble as they remained exactly as wet as theyd been before.

Robert scoffed. "Try your shirt. It looked pretty dry under there." He suggested.

Mr Cicle looked at Robert as he spoke. He paused. "Okay.." and then tried again, as suggested.

He took his glasses, opened up his vest and wiped them on his green dress shirt by his ribs. And sure enough, they came back clear and he smiled as he put them on.

"Would you look at that." He grinned, turning to look at Robert again with a smile.

Robert smiled back, a little amused at how he looked. Mr Cicles previously well kept hair was now dripping over his face, and his whole outfit was practically a puddle.

Mr Cicle, despite this, smiled anyways, and put a gentle hand on Roberts right shoulder. "Robert." He spoke softly. "Im sorry I havent been looking you in the eyes before." He apologised.

Robert hesitated at that, though he rolled his eyes half heartedly after a second. "Dont worry.." he reasured him. "Really, I wouldnt have expected you to know."

"Now, I need to go find somewhere to dry off..." Robert groaned, turning to start walking down the hallway, shifting uncomfortably in his heavy wet jacket.

Mr Cicle sighed, going to follow close behind him. "Me too..." he grumbled. "Getting the wrinkles out of my suit wont be fun either..." he complained, pulling his shirt collar away from his neck uncomfortably as the two continued off down the hall.

Robert hummed. "I wonder if they have a fireplace here, I could curl up by it like a fancy little dog."

"Im not sure we want to have a fancy little dog in the same house as slarf." Mr Cicle commented. "Wolves arent known for being friendly to prey sized hounds."

Robert was quiet for a moment.

After a second, he sighed. "Well im not a shapeshifter-"

"I was joking!" Mr Cicle defended. "Play of words! 'Oh no! Wolves eat small dogs- you compared yourself to a small dog-' is that not- a joke?"

"Not a good one."

"..fair enough."

[zirkkun-games]

I was playing ATF (game I loved, by the way) from the beginning to the new content and I was wondering: does Sans love the player? If so, at what point in the game does he start to feel that way?

Well, I intentionally left it up to player interpretation, the same as I did every other, if you refer to anything beyond general care love like how one could say they love their friends and family. I wanted it to be sort of to the level of the player's comfort.

To describe this in NOT an essay format... because I did in fact type out like way too much and this is actually my second, shorter draft dgdjdvs but BASICALLY, I like writing dating sims that aren't bluntly romantic or sexual, in terms of the characters' feelings. It's really interesting to me to dive into the complexities of a relationship, and how social norms tend to dictate that certain actions equate certain feelings but for a lot of people this simply isn't true. So when I'm writing about feelings and the nature of communication, especially for a fanfic, I spend a lot of time doing research. Notably, for this, I spend what is probably asinine amounts noting literally every single line in Undertale I could find of every single player, including Sans. Doing research for this game is part of what made me grow to be more attached to him than my actual favorite (Mettaton) lmao

But to answer your question!

Sans does love the player, but again, to what extent and by what definition is up to you. But he *does,* otherwise your betrayal, either from his memories of past genocide routes, your AtF choices, or even simply choosing to fall to the Underground again and start a new timeloop; would not hurt him so much. It's a lot easier to not give a shit if you never cared at all, but because he does excessive amounts and just can't trust the feeling anymore, that's even part of why he pushes the player away from the very beginning. He's the only one who recognizes that you, even as Willo, are the same person that fell as Frisk. And he cared for that person, too.

Which is also part of why he gets so beat up if you choose a different ending after spending all that time getting close to him specifically. From our end it looks kind of like he's being a whiny jealous bitch who can't handle you being with another friend for 2 seconds because on this side of the screen, the player can only choose to be with a specific character once: at the very end. But from his perspective, you've gone through all this trouble for his sake, breaking the existing narrative, making a mess of the timeline, all to tell him you love him in your own way... only to then turn down his date offer again and instead use your one other choice on someone else.

This is not to make you feel guilty, or at least, this isn't my intentions. I don't really think his reaction is the best course of action, but Sans has pretty solidly established himself as the guy who never fuckin says anything, even as he's actively about to die and his species is being killed he holds back *so much* information it's crazy. Which is why he then just decides to be very vague and cryptic about dropping a phone call and then promptly becomes cold without explanation upon next reset in AtF when you choose a different ending. For the record, again, shitty thing to do 🤣 but people are messy and I like to write them as messy.

... This is in fact the "shorter" version and yet it's still so long but YES, Sans does love the player, but again to what extent, whether it be platonic, romantic, sexual, or otherwise; I leave entirely up to your discretion because you all, as individual, different players, would each have different comfort zones for your individual selves. He's a broken man with a fragile heart he keeps in a very closed off wall but is willing to open it when given a chance, he just also slams the door back up very aggressively if he fears it might break.

And also thank you for your kind words!! I'm glad you enjoyed the game ✨️

[wormheamer]

i think artificer's story is more interesting if she didn't start out wanting to exterminate all scavengers.

most creatures are unaware of the cycle, outside the altered consciousness of a karma flower, only feeling vague impressions of distant pain where they've died before.

so arti wouldn't think to reset to join her kids again. she wouldn't even know it was possible. but the next cycle, i think she'd set out with one goal in mind: kill whoever threw that spear, just them, and then die. so she does.

and like sleep, like death, she wakes up. and does it again. again, and again, and again, each time more desperate, more violent, until eventually she takes her revenge and survives... by almost exterminating that entire tribe of scavengers.

maybe one or two of them escapes to a neighboring clan, and comes back with a kill squad. maybe they'd succeed. but after enough cycles she'd slaughter her way out of that encounter, too.

it can't really be stopped at that point. every time arti encounters a group of scavengers they'd be hostile on sight. after a thousand cycles of death at their hands, so would she, even without any clear memories of it. the cycle of hatred and bloodshed spirals out of control, because it could never have done anything else. there's no purpose to it, no intention, no grand genocidal scheme. it just happens. an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a hand for a hand.

now, pebbles, on the other hand, absolutely did do it on purpose.

there is i think kind of an interesting question to that in the sense that the scavengers are sort of inhabiting his body, ripping pieces of it off for their own uses. does it hurt? did he try and communicate this, get them to leave peacefully? we know they kill overseers on sight, and we know that their chieftain has a mark of communication.

that doesn't make it right; but it makes it understandable. it's at the very least a more interesting motivation than just him finding them annoying or inconvenient.

[yanderes-galore]

I don’t know if someone already requested it, but can you do a concept with Dust Sans where the darling are trying to survive against him?

Yeah, I can try. I'm not used to Undertale AUs but I'll try. I only really know DustTale from a fangame I saw so if anything is off, that's why. I tried to do my research and keep the personality still both Sans and Murder! Sans. I don't wish to offend the creator so I tried my best here. I hope you all like it nonetheless. I doubt the original author will see this but if they want me to take this down I can, just ask, I wish to respect them. This is just for fun.

Yandere! Murder Sans with Darling trying survive against him

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Hunting, Guilt, Death/Murder, Delusional behavior, Horror themes, Actually is a bit sad, Angst, Dubious relationship (as in, it's not even focused half the time).

As I wish to respect the author, I will try to keep Dust/Murder Sans as in character as possible.

Those who know the AU, even if I don't know all of it, know that this version of Sans is insane due to all the murder he had to do.

Sans’ goal is to kill all the monsters before Chara/The Human does.

Even his own brother, who he then hallucinates.

The most in character way to write something like this to me is this;

You are someone close to Sans before all the genocide routes.

He cared about you once… before all of this.

Then he saw you die… so many times.

It hurt… it all hurt.

I feel even if you were close he'd still end up chasing you down.

After all, DustTale appears to be a race to see who's stronger; The Human or Sans.

He wants to break this cycle.

Do the others even matter if they don't remember the resets?

I feel with this version of Sans there's a good chance you'd die.

By his hands… maybe as some sort of mercy killing.

Sans probably doesn't want to kill you, similar to how he felt when having to kill his own brother.

Yet as he falls into insanity… he feels it doesn't matter.

In reality, isn't he making sure you don't suffer?

You'll either die by the human once again… or him.

He'll make it quick for you.

In Sans' mind he feels this is for your own good.

You no doubt don't agree due to the fact you don't remember resets.

All you know is the skeleton you used to care about looks and acts different… and wants to kill you.

So now you're running through an abandoned Underground, trying to hide and/or escape from your old friend.

Sans' main goal is to defeat The Human.

However, I HC that he hesitates at some points right up until he loses his sanity.

Even during his insanity there may be moments of clarity where Sans recalls memories of you two together.

Maybe friends in one route, something closer another, but never really enemies…

Until now.

Some monsters have evacuated, some have been killed.

While running you may have even seen Sans kill some monsters.

The sight chills you.

Many know of Sans' killing spree, plus you fear you may not last through it.

Your fate, as it is in every route, is already sealed.

You can try your best to survive but you can only go on for so long.

You can try to hide, you can try to run…

Sans may just find you if The Human doesn't.

Part of him feels bad, part of him wishes there was a chance to spare you.

There isn't… not until he has The Human dead.

After resetting the timeline you two can be happy.

He's given up everything to defeat The Human, he's seen you and his loved ones die too many times. 

You may not understand it… but he's doing this for the both of you.

Once he wins, you can be happy in a new reset.

Hopefully… the last one.

But in order to have that happen… he needs to have your power.

Surely you won't blame him in the end.

Perhaps you both know that deep down it's inevitable.

At some point, through Snowdin, Waterfall, Hotland, and that dreaded corridor… one of those places will be your final resting place.

If only you knew how much this hurt him.

If only you remembered all those memories you once had together.

Unfortunately, you don't, which makes things somewhat easier.

He keeps telling himself that this is for the better.

You can help him take down The Human.

He pushes that thought in his head when he corners you.

You plead to him, he tries to ignore it.

It feels horrible… But there's no chance for mercy.

He promises to you that he'll make everything better… that he'll fix things…

Right as he summons a bone through you.

While you wither away into dust, he promises himself he'll fix things for you.

After all, he already feels stronger!

He'll just… make it count.

If this doesn't work… he'll try again.

He promises he does this because he cares…

He's just lucky you won't remember this, you'll just see him as Sans in another route.

He hopes that's true for you.

He hopes this fixes things

He wants to be happy with you…

Which means he'll keep doing this, even if it means killing you, to obtain that happy ending.

Even if it's futile in the end….

[eyelessfog]

@quidam-sirenae

thunder bringer

switching from mutiny to thunder bringer starts with all the lights going out except for when the thunder sounds

im playing with the thought of zeus and poseidon in particular being played by large puppets but at the moment we’re gonna discard that.

zeus shows up on the platform from the main doors, fog rolling in with him. hes all but lounging over the railing, smiling wide.

at some point during the lightning bit, where the audience can’t see where people are going and the set is reset, odysseus makes his way up to the platform. zeus does a gayass thing w odysseus during the “pride is a damsel in distress” bit, where hes very confident and odysseus looks scared. hes very clearly trying to move out and back down to his crew but zeus is all but playing with him

he then drops odysseus to have his little thuunderrr briinger ect ect bit. spotlight is shining specifically on him, but the lights are on, so everyone’s movement and panic is visible. dancing :] odysseus takes the moment to try to straighten himself out. zeus is on the left side of the platform, odysseus about to start down the stairs on the right when zeus does the “if you had to choose between your men and crew” bit, and he stops to go like oh um uh

zeus goes back to being ^-^ im tge thunder guyyy. dancing ect, odysseus is meant to get lost in the rest of the crew dancing, where you can’t really tell which one he is.

zeus singles odysseus out again, where which everyone sort of explodes out of the centre of the stage, giving a clear view of odysseus, looking up at zeus. zeus asks who odysseus chooses and odysseus has his issues and also the actor of penelope comes out of the bottom door to embrace him [i will take the suffering from you]. as the music slows, there are three spotlights: one on zeus, one on odysseus, and the last on whats his face as he reminds odysseus that they’ll die

as zeus sings again, the spotlight stays on him, but lights are on as odysseus fights with his crew in a choreographed dance-fight thing whatever

when the thunder sounds again, everyone falls, leaving only odysseus standing. he looks up at zeus, who smiles, turns on his heel, and walks off stage through the platform’s doors, leaving odysseus to turn, looking over his fallen crew, and then fall to his knees as the lights dim

[bad-traffic-smp-ideas]

insomnia(c) life

nobody is allowed to sleep irl for 24 hours before the session starts

there are no in-game beds. you cannot sleep. phantoms are still a thing.

so, about an hour into the first session, 1-4 phantoms spawn for nearly every single player all at once.

the only way to reset phantom spawning is to die (since you cant sleep), and otherwise they will increase in number every ingame night

scar starts selling phantom repellent crystals. tango and impulse and etho and scott hide underground. grian's constantly fending off phantoms from scar while scar's chasing fairies. ren and martyn end up in a puddle underground like they did when they first met in 3rd life under the same circumstances. this inspires them to start dogwarts part 2, which pearl, lizzie, and mumbo are determined to shut down due to the horrors they heard it caused the first time, and they hire cleo to commit some arson for them. pearl is in her natural habitat and is the most feared member of the server. her only allies are scott and bigb. speaking of bigb, grian's trying to do secret soulmates again, and jimmy and joel are trying their hardest to get him to stop and be normal about bigb, but scar's just encouraging him. joel ends up killing scar and then scar declares war on joel. lizzie finds out about this and at first is lke oh ok but then jimmy's like you two are literally married and then something clicks in lizzie's head. she takes cleo, mumbo, and pearl, and they plan this really elaborate arsony trap for scar that fails horribly when they left pearl to set it up but pearl was actually the boogeyman. scar is the only one who survives. this was not pearl's intention. she decides this man must be stopped. i dont have any more ideas for that part so we're moving on. ren's game crashes at one point and martyn just cries. etho somehow manages to put himself into an etho hopper clock and bdubs is the one who has to figure out what to do with him. oh i forgot about bdubs— bdubs is sufferring and decides to make it cleo's problem. cleo suffers so much from this that she has to be swapped out with gem for a session, who is not sleep deprived, and is just incredibly confused

bonus: no caffiene or anything allowed. extra bonus: except for the boogeymen. they can have caffiene and stuff

This reads like some sort of phantom-centric apocalyptic fanfiction and I'm in love with it <3

[diabolikpersonals]

sorry for such a broad question but in your opinion is laito a well written character relative to everyone in diabolik? i really Want to learn more about him but i also dont want to subject myself to All That and i just want to know if he's worth reading about or just a pile of interesting plot threads thrown together for shock factor and unfulfilled thematically.

like my current personal opinion (may be wrong) is that i dont feel satisfied with the idea of yui's love or proactiveness fixing laito in any way because it doesn't mesh well with the actual ideas surrounding his character and unpacking that love is not poison goes beyond romantic love or a singular place of understanding. additionally it doesn't feel earned it feels like a chore for the player to trudge though for the sake of reading. i dont want to read laito's story that bad if it's the case yet im intrigued by the things offered by his character like the processing of the deeply visceral way csa shatters who you are

I wanted to wait till I finished his CL to answer so I'd be fully caught up with laito's routes, but that'll take too long so.....!! I might change my answer later!! lmao

[tw laito stuff, csa and suicide, yeah]

I do think Laito's a well-written character but his stuff is really difficult to get through if you have certain triggers, so it's tough to recommend. Even beyond the csa stuff, Laito is in a real hurry to die and he makes several attempts throughout the series. There's a certain unique sort of awfulness, at least for me, involving scenes where a character fails a suicide attempt and then get even more upset and desperate about it. So I understand what you mean when you say you're not excited about putting yourself through it. They were the hardest routes for me to get through too :')

A lot of earlier games suffer from endings that are like "And the two lived happily ever after, and we're not gonna unpack all that stuff!" and Laito's routes are no exception, but if you can look past that and make it to LE, I wouldn't say that Laito gets fixed. He has an ending similar to Ayato's that's like, it feels like we fixed everything but in reality we couldn't overcome the core issue! They really seem to believe that Laito absolutely can't be happy or live a normal life the way he is now. He has to die and/or rewrite his memories to be comfortable loving someone. It's up to your tastes if that's satisfying or not, but I kind of love the bittersweetness of LE endings, and the way they feel like a happy ending until you think about them a little too hard.

What's interesting is that Yui's purehearted love often hurts Laito more than it helps him. He responds to love, from Yui or from his family members, with revulsion. There's jealousy when he interacts with straightforward characters like Yui or Ayato, like "If only I could be as simple and pure as you, but nope, I can't." He's very self-aware for a diaboy, which only makes it hurt more when he keeps arriving at the conclusion that he's rotten. He definitely makes progress, which is really satisfying to see, like how he gradually allows Ayato back in his life emotionally. But as of right now, the end of his arc is so, like, "I tried, really I did! But my perspective on love is fucked and I need a hard reset! Maybe I'll be normal in the next life but definitely not this one!! Bye!"

...So, it's hard to say if you'll be happy with it. I see a lot of mixed opinions concerning the LE endings. They often give the diaboy what he wants but not what he needs, so you're left going, "Wait, I don't know about this...!" A lot of people really hate these endings, but they actually get more interesting to me the more conflicted they make me feel...and oh boy, was I conflicted about this one! :'D

If it sounds interesting to you, too, and you don't mind some pretty brutal scenes along the way, give Laito's routes a try. His HDB will definitely make you mad though lol