#and then that detail is one of the core themes in the premise that is fundamental for the development of the character

[dontbotherwiththepronunciation]

Warning: Religion, God-critical (that term makes me feel like I'm writing meta that bashes a teen girl or pretends she is the villain), nihilism, explorations of suffering according to abrahamic faiths and particularly christianity, canon fucked upness in Aeron and Theon's stories. LONG POST.

I've been thinking about the Drowned God. I know people usually connect catholicism with the faith of the seven, which is fair especially when looking at it as an institution, and the faith of the Drowned God gets compared more often to Scandinavian/Norse mythology, more specifically to Valhalla as the afterlife (although I think the feasts given by Ægir and Ran in Skáldskaparmál would be even more fitting, but that's only me nitpicking), but the catholic catechism sees suffering as something that is both redemptive and also empowering and this reminds me of Aeron and Theon.

Christianity on itself believes that suffering, when united with the Passion of Jesus, atones for one's sins and thus allows entry into heaven. Catholicism specially sees suffering as an inherent part of the human condition brought upon by human sin against God.

“As long as [Adam] remained in the divine intimacy, man would not have to suffer or die.”  - Catechism of the Catholic Church

But since Adam and Eve committed sin by eating the forbidden fruit (or as I like to see it in my I-view-very-important-religions-as-basically-high-fantasy interpretation, Eve chose agency & knowledge and cut the strings this divine puppeteer used to limit her with), suffering was casted upon them and all their descendants. And then, according to the incredibly specific official bible timeline from the Houston Christian University, 3974 years, six months, and ten days later (skdghsfbdhaaahahahahahah) Jesus was sent to earth to cause some havoc and basically tell everyone that the suffering, the struggle, the oppression and all the horrible things that happened to innocent people in our world would eventually have a payoff after death.

The more strict practitioners (ex. flagellants) used to (and some still do) find spiritual benefits when causing physical pain upon themselves. Corporal mortification was seen as an act that brought you closer to purity. Suffering made you ascend in the eyes of God. Suffering was encouraged. Suffering was noble.

Suffering was a promise of hope.

The promise of eternal life (and the eventual bodily resurrection) allowed people to believe that, as long as they placed their faith in Christ, the suffering would not be tied to a tragedy.

The phrase "God is Dead" first appears in Victor Hugo's Les Misérables but it became more popular through Nietzsche's The Gay Science (Insert SpongeBob hand gesture). A simplified summary of the themes explored in The Gay Science would basically be Nietzsche claiming that christianity invented an ideal inexistent utopia that is too farfetched from reality. He sees christianity as a common, anti-intellectual philosophy for simple minded people that enslaves its believers. But by seeing it as something inexistent and false, by "killing God", the illusion of divinity is lost and all the hope and consolation that came with it are gone too, leaving humanity in a state of tragedy; nihilism.

God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him. How shall we comfort ourselves, the murderers of all murderers? What was holiest and mightiest of all that the world has yet owned has bled to death under our knives: who will wipe this blood off us? What water is there for us to clean ourselves? What festivals of atonement, what sacred games shall we have to invent? Is not the greatness of this deed too great for us? Must we ourselves not become gods simply to appear worthy of it? - The Gay Science

To some extent I feel like he is the reborn Eve in the narrative. By denying the superior force he feels he gains control over his own person, but is left in a world of pain at the burden of his existence being tied to mortality and purposelessness (oh, sweet paradox)

Nietzsche was a self-proclaimed nihilist although he didn't seem to want to be one. He saw nihilism as the result of the loss one felt at the realisation that life, and all the suffering in it, had no greater purpose. "God is Dead" was calling the readers into finding a way to cope with the situation.

And for anyone who started reading this because I mentioned the Drowned God, sorry it took so long to get here, but I relate all of this specifically to Aeron and Theon and their connections to religion. I believe in Theon's bind to the Old Gods and, as he is in ADWD, it seems he has come to vaguely believe in both of these faiths, although the Old Gods are more present in his story. Aeron though, is so reminiscent of this concept.

And I know that christianity is not the only religion tied to the faith of the Drowned God.

The Osiris myth is arguably the most important one in Egyptian mythology and I think the motif of "What is dead may never die, but rises again harder and stronger" is just as if not even more present in that one.

In it, Set murders his brother Osiris. The reasons behind the murder vary depending on source, but one of them portrays it as revenge for Osiris having sex with Set's wife, Nephtys. Set usurps his brother's throne while Nephtys and Osiris' wife, Isis, search for his body, then mummify and revive him. Personally I don't consider it to be very similar to the myth of the Drowned God but it feels more resemblant to it than Jesus' very normal "came back without a scratch" resurrection. Osiris doesn't get that benefit. He comes back bruised and bandaged, with death being visible on him.

Christianity also has refrained from sacrificing their own but Quetzalcoatl and Tláloc, aztec deities, would demand human sacrifice through drowning during Etzalcualiztli (the sixth month of the aztec calendar) and Tláloc specifically promised an utopic afterlife to those who had water-involved deaths, but even more to those who willingly gave themselves to the water. Celts also practiced drowning sacrifices, but I know too little about them to be honest.

What I am trying to say is, if actively searching, one could alway find similitudes to other faiths, but because abrahamic faiths have been the ones that prevailed through time and the ones I've experienced most, I will focus on them.

Alright, Florence play "What the water gave me"

Drowning, baptisms and water imagery

I wonder what it would be like to be a Catholic, to dip your hand into the cold water and to believe in its holiness. - The Moth Diaries (Yes, I read the Moth Diaries, shut up! It is what if Carmilla and Twilight had a child.)

Christianity is kind of basic when it comes to water symbolism, but it's loyal to its theme.

There isn't a lot to speculate on water, it "washes yours sins away" but there is a common pattern in characters that belong to the Bible that is repeated over and over again and somehow Aeron embodies it pretty perfectly.

We are confronted with characters who have lived sinfully.

On the other hand, I do wonder what would be considered as "sinful" according to the Drowned God. Their religion is passed down orally and has no scriptures that I know of, so a set of rules can be more ambiguous depending on whoever is preaching. Lust, greed, wrath and pride, all considered official sins by christian doctrine, are encouraged by the faith of the Drowned God in the form of salt wives, raiding and their beliefs of ethnic superiority. The only sin I can think of that is specific to the them is that Ironborn shouldn't kill Ironborn, but even that is absolved when water is involved since drowning another Ironborn is alright and a death near the water is considered a good death.

We are born to suffer, that our sufferings might make us strong. - The Prophet, AFFC

Suffering is also encouraged, so I am assuming that any type of hedonism would be seen as sinful too (which would-be contradictory to what I stated above, but alright maybe GRRM was a little weaker when it came to world-building this time or maybe I am misunderstanding something. If so, please correct me, I genuinely am curious about these topics), if that is the case, then yeah Aeron was sinful and has reasons to look down on his former self.

Young I was, and vain, but the sea washed my follies and my vanities away. That man drowned, nephew. His lungs filled with seawater, and the fish ate the scales off his eyes. When I rose again, I saw clearly. - Theon I, ACOK

Immediately, something like scales fell from Saul’s eyes, and he could see again. He got up and was baptised, - Acts 9:18

Here is one of the many character allusions I think one can identify in Aeron. Saul of Tarsus, disputed Apostle, leads a violent life persecuting early christians until lightning strikes him during one of his travels and blinds him. For three days he starves and spends his time praying until Ananias of Damascus comes to his rescue and baptises him.

It's one of the less obvious ones, but I just like how they used the scales-blindness imagery and while this storm was one at land, not at sea, there is another biblical character who shares more similitudes with Aeron.

As a kid the book of Jonah was one of my favourites, so of course I love Aeron!

A prophet, an equal, but weak in his beliefs, too tentative when he should be nothing but certain in his faith! God tells him to go overthrow Nineveh (east) and, because these prophets never learn not to contradict the narrative, he tries fleeing to Jaffa (west). On the way there, the ship he is traveling on is barely holding on because God has sent a storm against them. The sailors blame Jonah, Jonah takes the blame and goes "alright, you know what? Just throw me over board and the storm will cease." The sailors refuse, but Jonah goes overboard anyway. He comes back to the surface three days later reborn in the water as as a new man, now fully convinced to follow his path as a prophet.

Depending on the translation there are a lot of similitudes between the texts. Even the imagery used for describing settings is alike. I know religious scriptures get a bad rep because of all the atrocities committed in their names (valid, very valid), but viewed simply as text, they have some truly beautiful prose and the Book of Jonah is so vivid and precious, and it is very reminiscent to some of Aeron's chapters.

From inside the fish Jonah prayed to the Lord his God. He said:  “In my distress I called to the Lord, and he answered me.  From deep in the realm of the dead I called for help,/out of the belly of Sheol I cried,  and you listened to my cry./and you heard my voice.  You hurled me into the depths, into the very heart of the seas,  and the currents swirled about me;  all your waves and breakers swept over me. I said, ‘I have been banished  from your sight;  yet I will look again  toward your holy temple.’  The engulfing waters were at my throat,  the deep surrounded me;  seaweed was wrapped around my head.  To the roots of the mountains I sank down;  the earth beneath barred me in forever.  But you, Lord my God,  brought my life up from the pit.  “When my life was ebbing away,  I remembered you, Lord,  and my prayer rose to you,  to your holy temple.  “Those who cling to worthless idols  turn away from God’s love for them.  But I, with shouts of grateful praise,  will sacrifice to you. What I have vowed I will make good.  I will say, ‘Salvation comes from the Lord.’”  And the Lord commanded the fish, and it vomited Jonah onto dry land. - Jonah 2

The seaweed in his head, the belly of the beast (Silence/Sheol), the crashing of the waves, the engulfing waters.

I won't even really go into The Forsaken with the Jonah comparison, because to me the Forsaken is the most open "Jesus in the dessert" analogy, but I still find it compelling to imagine Jonah and Aeron, both inside the whale/ship desperately praying to their God. Only one of them finds salvation and it's not Aeron.

But asides from setting and aesthetic there are these:

The god took me deep beneath the waves and drowned the worthless thing I was. When he cast me forth again he gave me eyes to see, ears to hear, and a voice to spread his word, that I might be his prophet and teach his truth to those who have forgotten. - The Prophet, AFFC

Ears that hear and eyes that see— the Lord has made them both. - Proverbs 20:12

Otherwise that they might see with their eyes, hear with their ears, understand with their hearts, and turn and be healed. - Isaiah 6:10

They have mouths but cannot speak, eyes but cannot see. They have ears but cannot hear, nor is there breath in their mouths. - Psalm 135:16 & Psalm 115:5

There is a singer from my country, she wrote a song called "Thanks for life" and then killed herself three months later (Iconic behaviour). The song is still considered a "humanist hymn", which I think is morbidly hilarious. In the lyrics, she keeps thanking life for things that should be basic to life; for having eyes, ears, mouth and hands. I think there is something interesting in how these are all basic atributes most people are born with but these acts of gratefulness, at least in Aeron and Jonah's case are not made in bad faith. They are genuine and true.

 The Drowned God gives every man a gift. - The Prophet AFFC

Are these seen as the God's gifts too? If so, are these acts of gratefulness supposed to make the believers humble and less ambitious? Or is it just that the God is a niggardly one? We know of Aeron having thought his gift was that he could piss longer and farther than most, and later on he recognises the power of his speech, his eloquence. Surprisingly, Aeron is never stripped of that gift once Euron captures him.

His eloquence is his strength, through it he preaches, leads religious rites, advices lords and convinces others to join the faith. And of course, he also baptises.

Baptisms, baptisms, baptising, cleaning the sins way, water as a metaphor for blood, birth, rebirth, John the Baptist!

This is where the storm -> near death experience -> spiritual reawakening pattern ends, but the similarities become more clear when we recognise both of them as heralds whose strength lies in their reputation and their oratory, something both Euron & Herod recognise and it is what keeps them from killing him (or in Herod's case at least for some time).

I have mentioned on my blog that I don't buy a lot into the Jesus-Theon comparisons and I will mention it again later but, since I am a hypocrite, I will take the Theon-Jesus bait and use it as a prop for my Aeron-John thing. As of now there are just two instances involving Theon that actually make me think of Jesus:

Psalms 22

His baptism

Jesus baptism marks his place as "messiah" but it also announces the beginning of his true calvary. By having the Holy Spirit descend on him after the water has cleansed him, he accepts his destiny as his father's (God) lamb to the slaughter. According to Matthew's Gospel it is even Jesus who has to beg John to baptise him, although John is initially reluctant. After the baptism Jesus departs to the dessert knowing of the suffering that awaits for him. This is not the case for Theon. Theon initially doesn't even want to be baptised. It's almost like he is subconsciously trying to escape what is to come after the baptism: the anguish.

Lifting the skin, his uncle pulled the cork and directed a thin stream of seawater down upon Theon's head. It drenched his hair and ran over his forehead into his eyes. Sheets washed down his cheeks, and a finger crept under his cloak and doublet and down his back, a cold rivulet along his spine. The salt made his eyes burn, until it was all he could do not to cry out. He could taste the ocean on his lips. "Let Theon your servant be born again from the sea, as you were," Aeron Greyjoy intoned. "Bless him with salt, bless him with stone, bless him with steel." - Theon I, ACOK

I love Theon's baptism by Aeron. It goes badly and it's tragicomical. It feels like a mockery of Jesus' baptism. A satirised Monty Python type of scene.

Here he comes, our cocksure young man who sees himself as the chosen one, holding a promise of paper while thinking there is an entire comet heralding his return, here he comes, our prodigal son, all "Don't need no advice! I got a plan! I know the direction, the lay on the land! [...] Nuh-nuh-nothing can break-nuh-noting can break me down!" only to get cold feet and be made to kneel in the mud, annoyed at the custom that would have actually anointed him, and then having to blink the tears away because it hurts him. @/shebsart has a really beautiful and intense but also comical depiction of the scene and I really love it.

It's also a little sad. It shows a disconnection from what should have been his culture and faith. The saltwater washed Aeron's follies away. Aeron embraces it, he drinks saltwater, bathes in saltwater and would probably not mind it on his eyes. The saltwater nurtures Aeron, but to Theon it only gives pain.

Ok now, to

Reek, Aeron, Job and Jeyne, Falia and Job's wife

(I think a reading of The Book of Job could also be applied to Lancel Lannister with Amerei Frey taking the role of Job's wife and Jaime Lannister acting as Job's friends, but I won't write about him and even Aeron will be in second place. @/nosaeanchorage wrote meta about the religious journeys Theon, Aeron and Lancel experience involving trauma responses which I found to be very interesting and well formed, so yeah I'd recommend reading it!)

The book of Job has a theme in its story. Can you guess it? It's further suffering!

(In a very deep voice: Where were you when I feel from grace? A frozen heart, an empty space)

So, Job is this guy living a rather fulfilling and morally righteous life; he is happy with his wife and children, has a few friends, is wealthy and healthy and, most importantly, he is God-fearing. Satan tells God that the only reason Job is loyal to him and serves him so dutifully, is because God has been good to him. God gets insecure and tells Satan "alright, let's see if you are right. Go torture him a little. You can take his riches, his children and his health in that order. You can take pretty much everything he values, but keep him alive!"

Job becomes a miserable wreck of a man.

It's not a favourite of mine, but it has a pretty good interval of "pathetic wet kitten blorbo" and "angry, scornful almost defiant in his resentment survivor" so I still enjoy it. And it also opens the question on whether "divine punishment" is really something inherently based on justice and goodness, it defies the way many religions tend to preach that bad things can only happen to bad people and, unlike the suffering promised by Christ, there is no redemption to be found through it. Job at some point gets healthy again and his riches are restored, but this was not a given. The suffering is pointless unless he finds a meaning to it.

This doesn't really sound a lot like Theon or Aeron. Both of them were deprived of well adjusted, happy lives since childhood, but Theon's behaviour towards Ramsay sometimes reminds me of Job's feelings for God, and Euron literally claims himself to be a God.

Ramsay is never directly compared by the text or any characters to a God (well maybe he himself does, but that's arguable), the closest we come to such is this:

“The gods are not done with me,” Theon answered, wondering if this could be the killer, the night walker who had stuffed Yellow Dick’s cock into his mouth and pushed Roger Ryswell’s groom off the battlements. Oddly, he was not afraid. He pulled the glove from his left hand. “Lord Ramsay is not done with me.” - A Ghost in Winterfell, ADWD

But Theon's fear for him sometimes makes me think of one. He is so terrified of Ramsay and sees him as this unbeatable force, but keeps telling himself and others that whatever Ramsay has done, as nefarious as it is, is an act of mercy and goodness. I know there are different interpretations to that behaviour. Some readers tend to believe that he has successfully gaslighted himself, others see it as a remnant of his sardonic and sarcastic sense of humour. Personally, I imagine it's a mixture of both. There is enough textual evidence for me to believe he does not truly think Ramsay is justified in his actions, but I can imagine how he might try telling himself that no punishment goes undeserved as a way of coping, which is what he tells Jeyne too.

In the Book of Job, our poor little meow meow goes through different reactions as his torture starts, many of them resemble Theon's thoughts, never fully by text, but very much in spirit.

He would crush me with a storm and multiply my wounds for no reason. He would not let me catch my breath but would overwhelm me with misery. If it is a matter of strength, he is mighty! And if it is a matter of justice, who can challenge him? Even if I were innocent, my mouth would condemn me; if I were blameless, it would pronounce me guilty. - Job 9:17-20

How long will you torment me and crush me with words?  Ten times now you have reproached me; shamelessly you attack me.   If it is true that I have gone astray, my error remains my concern alone. If indeed you would exalt yourselves above me and use my humiliation against me, then know that God has wronged me and drawn his net around me.  Though I cry, ‘Violence!’ I get no response; though I call for help, there is no justice. He has blocked my way so I cannot pass; he has shrouded my paths in darkness.  He has stripped me of my honor and removed the crown from my head.  He tears me down on every side till I am gone; he uproots my hope like a tree.  His anger burns against me; he counts me among his enemies.  His troops advance in force; they build a siege ramp against me and encamp around my tent.  He has alienated my family from me; my acquaintances are completely estranged from me.  My relatives have gone away; my closest friends have forgotten me.  My guests and my female servants count me a foreigner; they look on me as on a stranger.  I summon my servant, but he does not answer, though I beg him with my own mouth.  My breath is offensive to my wife; I am loathsome to my own family.  Even the little boys scorn me; when I appear, they ridicule me.  All my intimate friends detest me; those I love have turned against me.  I am nothing but skin and bones; I have escaped only by the skin of my teeth. - Job 19:1-20

That, the ambivalent conviction that they deserve to be punished, and the overall fear of their torturer's omnipotence are written similarly. Of course in Job's narrative the omnipotence is real, in Theon's it is only perceived, but so, so strongly.

And this is where Jeyne takes an interesting role.

Job's wife is a fun character and I admire her. To some extent she and Jeyne serve similar purposes in the story, since they defy Job and Theon's conviction of their fate being unescapable. Sadly, in Job and his wife's case, she is wrong because you can't defeat God and you can't escape him, but I still appreciate her condemnation of Job's passivity and God's supposed goodness. The text focuses on Job's pain but never on the collateral pain that reaches his wife. She might not have fallen sick, but since her living condition is tied to that of her husband she is affected by all this. She has lost her riches, her happiness, her children, and only because of God's whims, someone she begins to hate. She also begins to loathe Job and the way he keeps making excuses for God and justifying the tragedy that befalls them. So, she tells Job:

“Are you still maintaining your integrity? Curse God and die!” - Job 2:9

(fucking metal, I love her, iconic behaviour)

The holy scriptures are not very compassionate to women who defy men or God, they get vilified and punished, but I applaud that bravery.

In Jeyne's case, her defying of Theon's conviction that Ramsay is unescapable is done much more gently and the relationship between them appears to be one of mutual compassion; Theon often tries to victim-blame her in the same way he blames himself but never seems to truly internalise that, Jeyne apparently doesn't hold his participation in her abuse against him and considers him her saviour. But still! Jeyne, as meek and scared as she is, is the one who by constantly asking for help, by acting undignified in her suffering and not simply taking it without question, manages to water this seed of doubt in Theon's mind, even if he himself isn't fully aware of that.

And it's kind of fun to think how, although Jeyne and Falia are narrative props with similar purposes, it's Jeyne and Aeron who take the place of Job's wife. Falia is Job, fully sure that Euron is merciful and will treat her with respect and care for their children, that Euron will not forsake her, while Aeron is immediately telling her to run for her life.

Maybe because, unlike Theon, his faith is already placed in a God.

Jesus Christ & The Forsaken (and Lodos and Theon)

(Need new song...Wow a yard SAIL!)

Lodos

I'm going to clear the issue with Lodos very fast, because he too seems to be like a wink at Jesus Christ. Lodos literally claims he is the Drowned God's Son, dies, then supposedly comes back from the dead some time later like "'sup", leads a rebellion against the current ruler of the Iron Islands and dies again this time with all his followers being persecuted and killed, so yeah, he seems like a satirised version of Jesus Christ but there is not a lot more to that.

Theon

I have seen people claiming connections between the two but never in a manner I could agree with, and I feel so stupid because I don't get it. People sometimes compared his and Robb's relationship to Jesus & Judas, which aside from the suicidal thoughts post "betrayal" doesn't seem very alike. The "betrayal" was done for different reasons, the reactions to the "betrayal" are different, and the guilt also comes from different places. By placing Theon as Judas we also sanctify Robb in a manner I find almost insulting since Robb condoned and approved of Theon's torture by the Boltons. If I'm going to compare Robb and Theon it will be more to God & Satan, but even there it's only a superficial similitude.

Now, Aeron, Aeron, my love, Aeron!

My God, my God, why have thou forsaken me? - Psalms 22:1

“Still praying, priest? Your god has forsaken you.” - The Forsaken, TWOW

Even the title feels like a reference. The trajectory of Aeron's belief during the chapter resembles the psalms too and, although I never believe in anything I think, their similitudes are what makes me hopeful about Aeron's fate; the idea that he is not truly forsaken.

As hinted above, the Psalms begin lamenting themselves over the anguish that God is seemingly not stoping, yet as they continue the psalmist becomes even more convinced of his God being a merciful one who will provide a cure for his afflictions, one whom the world should praise.

For he has not despised or scorned the suffering of the afflicted one; he has not hidden his face from him but has listened to his cry for help.  From you comes the theme of my praise in the great assembly; before those who fear you I will fulfil my vows.  The poor will eat and be satisfied; those who seek the LORD will praise him— may your hearts live forever!  All the ends of the earth will remember and turn to the LORD, and all the families of the nations will bow down before him, for dominion belongs to the LORD and he rules over the nations. All the rich of the earth will feast and worship; all who go down to the dust will kneel before him— those who cannot keep themselves alive.  Posterity will serve him; future generations will be told about the Lord.  They will proclaim his righteousness, declaring to a people yet unborn: He has done it! - Psalms 22:24-31

According to most interpretations, the psalmist himself is Jesus. This is the suffering of Christ and from Psalms 22:22-31 it is spoken by him after coming back from the dead. He encourages others, those who have witnessed his anguish, to believe. This is also what Aeron does once Falia is bound to the prow with him, he tells her of better times to come.

“Falia Flowers,” he called. “Have courage, girl! All this will be over soon, and we will feast together in the Drowned God’s watery halls.” - The Forsaken, TWOW

This also slightly mirrors Jesus and the Penitent Thief, who is crucified next to the Messiah and fears what is to come after death. He asks Jesus to not forget him.

Jesus answered him, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.” - Luke 23:43

It's so remarkable and moving to me how Aeron has always tried to protect Falia from Euron. He doesn't know her, if he were to have known her he would have probably looked at her with scorn, to some extent she has acted as an accomplice to Euron in his captivity, and yet...he promises this frivolous greenlander girl that the two of them will feast together...

The end of the chapter also carries christian imagery that seems to stem from Christ's crucifixion.

“Your Grace,” said Torwold Browntooth. “I have the priests. What do you want done with them?” “Bind them to the prows,” Euron commanded. “My brother on the Silence. Take one for yourself. Let them dice for the others, one to a ship. Let them feel the spray, the kiss of the Drowned God, wet and salty.” - The Forsaken, TWOW

When the soldiers crucified Jesus, they took his clothes, dividing them into four shares, one for each of them, with the undergarment remaining. This garment was seamless, woven in one piece from top to bottom.  Let’s not tear it,” they said to one another. “Let’s decide by lot who will get it.” This happened that the scripture might be fulfilled that said, “They divided my clothes among them and cast lots for my garment.” So this is what the soldiers did. - John 19:23-24

They bound Aeron Damphair tight with strips of leather that would shrink when wet, clad only in his beard and breechclout.  - The Forsaken, TWOW

The overall mental image summoned by that description is also rather similar to the typical depictions of Christ on the cross.

And even prior to The Forsaken, there are still some smaller, more superficial similitudes between the two.

Aeron lives sparingly, has no material possessions save for his waterskin and robe, he has a cult of followers devoted to him, and disregards governmental authority since he obeys to a higher power, one who encourages suffering in the same manner christianity does. Aeron fasts, goes swimming in cold water, drinks salt water, all this as a way to serve his God and become a living example of their teachings.

So yeah, in my opinion Aeron is the closest we have to an ASOIAF Jesus reference. It's not Theon, Theon's torture by Ramsay and the torture he imposes on himself afterward have no ideological purpose, it is pointless and unwilling. In my opinion, it's not Jon, it's not Beric, it surely isn't Robb, I hope it's not Dany (although I see a lot of abrahamic imagery in her (Moses + Lot's wife)), it's the Damphair. And I love that. I love how (according to the the author) one of the least sympathetic characters in this story has been somewhat equated to Jesus. A bold move, one that I've enjoyed a lot.

Anyway, in order to further develop this.

The Storm God, Euron and the Devil

Let's go!

I feel like Euron would appreciate this type of stuff he is flamboyant, weird and comical. If we ever get an ASOIAF musical I like to believe this could be inspiration for a duet between them.

Monotheism is a rare concept in ASOIAF.

The Many-Faced God could be the closest we have to a (explored in text) monotheistic religion, although it is monotheistic in the way Hinduism could be considered monotheistic: The belief in one supreme god whose qualities and forms are represented by a multitude of different deities, all which emanate from one alone. 

Out of the religions that are explored in the books none of them are really monotheistic, although some of them demand for their worshippers to worship them and no other.

Most real-life monotheistic religions have a type of "anti" to their god, who is not a god themselves, but is a being superior to humankind meant to drive them to perdition. They function more as a tool for testing human's moral compass and will to follow the true God than a foe. The word "Satan" means "adversary", but this is in reference to his relationship to humans, not to God.

In Goethe's Faust, God and one of his devils, Mephistopheles, make a bet and Mephistopheles is fully devoted to winning that bet. He does everything in his power to prove human virtue isn't true and that corruption will always prevail. The story proves he has a point. Faust does some completely despicable and heinous stuff and is very immoral, and still Mephistopheles loses anyway because God decides to pardon Faust's misdeeds and allows him to enter Heaven. Mephistopheles never stood a chance. He was fighting the narrative and the writer of the narrative and he could only be defeated by them. He is only a minion of God who doesn't comprehend his position and believes he is capable of surpassing a creature who is above all.

This is pretty compliant with christianity's views on the devil.

Hoverer, it is not the case with beliefs like those of Aeron and Melisandre. They don't regard the Storm God and the Great Other as mere petty minions doing the Drowned God's or R'hllor's dirty work. They see them as threats and all other gods as their petty minions.

"There are no gods but R'hllor and the Other, whose name may not be said." - Victarion I, ADWD

"Your Drowned God is a demon, he is no more than a thrall of the Other, the dark god whose name must not be spoken." - Victarion I, ADWD

The Storm God is considered an enemy of the Drowned God, and although his labour is similar to that of the christian devil (driving men/sailors into their doom), he seems to be his own creature.

And still! When comparing Aeron's role to Jesus Christ in the Forsaken, I can't help but think of Euron, the Storm God, and Satan as one.

“Kneel, brother,” the Crow’s Eye commanded. “I am your king, I am your god. Worship me, and I will raise you up to be my priest.” - The Forsaken, TWOW

(Not gonna lie, I think it's very fun how out of all the Greyjoy's the one whose name is directly derived from "God" is actually Theon, but alright, whatever...)

We don't really know what triggered Aeron's religious awakening. With Theon, Ramsay and his time in Winterfell is the easiest answer, with Aeron it's a mystery and I don't dare to say religion was a coping mechanism for Euron's sexual abuse or Urri's death because, based on what we know, the more plausible options are that alcohol and sex were the coping mechanisms.

We only know he went down in a storm and washed up ashore. On itself that is enough to be traumatic, so I don't know how much we should speculate on it.

A smile played across Euron's blue lips. "I am the storm, my lord. The first storm, and the last. - The Reaver, AFFC

I don't even have a theory, I don't have any proof or a structured idea. This just seemed remarkable to me. The concept that Euron might be involved in whatever happened during that storm is tempting and fun, nothing more.

Now, if Aeron is playing the role of Jesus, with Falia as the penitent thief during the "crucification", then I think I can claim Euron is taking the role of Satan; especially during The Forsaken.

After an undetermined, but apparently long period of starvation and isolation, Euron finally comes to Aeron, dressed in black and red, and presents the equivalent to the Devil's three temptations.

Then Jesus was led by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil. After fasting forty days and forty nights, he was hungry. The tempter came to him and said, “If you are the Son of God, tell these stones to become bread.”  Jesus answered,  “It is written: ‘Man shall not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.’ ” Then the devil took him to the holy city and had him stand on the highest point of the temple.  “If you are the Son of God,” he said, “throw yourself down. For it is written: “ ‘He will command his angels concerning you, and they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.’ ”  Jesus answered him,  “It is also written: ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’ ” Again, the devil took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their splendor. “All this I will give you,” he said, “if you will kneel and worship me.” Jesus said to him,  “Away from me, Satan! For it is written: ‘Worship the Lord your God, and serve him only.’ ” Then the devil left him, and angels came and attended him. - Matthew 4:1-11

“That’s it, priest. Gulp it down. The wine of the warlocks, sweeter than your seawater, with more truth in it than all the gods of earth.” - The Forsaken, TWOW

“Pray to me. Beg me to end your torment, and I will.” “Not even you would dare,” said the Damphair. “I am your brother. No man is more accursed than the kinslayer.” - The Forsaken, TWOW

“Kneel, brother,” the Crow’s Eye commanded. “I am your king, I am your god. Worship me, and I will raise you up to be my priest.” - The Forsaken, TWOW

I'm not going to pretend they are the same, with exception of the third one, but even the others have small resemblances; nourishment of some sort after starving + trying to get the other killed, although the later one reminds me more of an encounter between him and Victarion.

Euron turned to face him, his bruised blue lips curled in a half smile. "Perhaps we can fly. All of us. How will we ever know unless we leap from some tall tower?" - The Reaver, AFFC

The last temptation, is the most interesting to me, because Euron has already distorted Aeron's faith into being chosen as King. He played at the edge of legality and won! And yet now, during The Forsaken he is experiencing a sort of existential defeat. Aeron is not being rescued by any god, but he would rather die as a martyr or accept even more torture and suffering rather than serve him. It doesn't matter how much Euron tries to convince him that his God has abandoned him, that he is a greater force, like Jonah, Job and Jesus Aeron refuses to abandon his faith.

And I think this persistence is what will keep him alive.

I've always found it very fun and interesting that Euron never threatens to cut Aeron's tongue out.

When wondering why, the Theon-Ramsay answer would be that Euron likes to hear Aeron's pain, which makes sense given how Aeron is a more targeted victim of his compared to ex. Falia Flowers. But Euron very clearly intends to gain Aeron to his side. He knows of the power Aeron holds in his voice and speech, of his reputation as a holy and respected man among the Ironborn, and how much of a waste it would be to simply throw away that power. Remember Varys' "[Cersei] knows a tame wolf is of more use than a dead one"? An eloquent priest is of more use than a mute one.

But this also backfires on him because since Aeron's integrity can't be broken, he manages to keep defying him and even continues spreading the word of the Drowned God, even as he is in a situation of mortal peril.

And still, even if the end of The Forsaken is somewhat triumphal, I can't believe it.

Yes, he is strengthening his faith, this obviously is a victory over Euron, his persistence and loyalty, but how long will it last? Weirdly enough out of my five favourite POV characters, Aeron is the one whose death I'm convinced of the least (sadly), and whenever I try picturing him after managing to get away from the Silence I can't help but imagine there will be a change in his mindset and I don't know what form it will take.

“Even a priest may doubt. Even a prophet may know terror. Aeron Damphair reached within himself for his god and discovered only silence.” - The Drowned Man, AFFC

Maybe it is because the chances of getting to my 30s are very narrow, and in the mean time I am in physical and mental pain, that I find there is something very beautiful and empowering about showing that the horrors are not always meaningful, and that they are continuous. The horrors are trying to live before, during and after the horrors.

So anyway, the reason I brought up Nietzsche way earlier in this is because I don't think the suffering in characters like Aeron or Theon is of nihilistic nature and it baffles me when people pretend it is. This is not suffering for the sake of suffering because suffering is inevitable and pointless and blah blah blah blah misery porn blah blah blah trauma porn blah blah blah moral outrage blah blah blah. It is suffering, it is inevitable, it can be pointless, and it makes a huge point in the narrative and the characters lives! And it is important to me that we see characters go through these things; to see them lose, grieve and hate, to see them being imperfect examples of victimhood, even if their feelings on the matter will vary. Some might attach some personal value to their trauma and others won't and both should be allowed to exist in media without people pretending only one of those is valid.

Theon's suffering is something very rare and precious to me because it serves no greater purpose. It started before he even met Ramsay and hasn't known at end ever since. I don't consider it redemptive, it's not a justified karmic punishment either. It carries no ideology and it's not for the sake of others. There is no consolation for him or anyone else because of it. The blood will coagulate, dry and be washed away, the wounds will scar and heal, and he will gain weight and muscles back and none of his mental issues will be solved. The torture doesn't fix him.

And I think that his possible outlook on it will be very interesting to see in contrast with Aeron's and their respective religious journeys. Theon's religious awakening is different and still genuine. It is in servitude to another faith that would be looked down upon by Aeron, and whom even Theon himself denied back in ACOK, mockingly referring to them as trees.

"Tell me true, nephew. Do you pray to the wolf gods now?" Theon seldom prayed at all, but that was not something you confessed to a priest, even your father's own brother. "Ned Stark prayed to a tree. No, I care nothing for Stark's gods." "Good. Kneel." - Theon I, ACOK

And I can't imagine an Aeron who, after going through an event this world-shattering (being tied to the prow of a ship while living unspeakable horrors, being drugged by the person who sexually abused him as a child and has now confessed to killing their brothers, one of whom Aeron seemed fond of, being confronted with the victory of a self proclaimed god whom he despises, and starting to form his own connection with a former mean girl whom he would have spat on, now co-victim), would be as judgemental to his nephew's newly awoken beliefs, even if they differ, even if he keeps viewing his own calvary as something divine, even if to Theon the suffering will never be a positive.

With all this said, I will admit I long for some evolution in Aeron's faith as the story progresses. I am open to pretty much every ending, but I love the possibility of a rupture between him and the faith that has been sustaining him for so long. Perhaps not a full negation of his God, but some questioning of his religion. The unsettlement of the "God is Dead" sentiment crawling in the cracks of his doubt.

So, simply out of curiosity in case anyone actually managed to get here:

[pieroulette]

yandere simulator; xo (only if you say yes)

2024 | 18+ | RUNTIME: 23K | STARRING > Y.JW | SUMMARY; when you—a corporate worker in her late twenties—finds a strange self-proclaimed online game "no one has ever win this game yet", where its premise are centered around yanderes, but instead of the classic route where the yanderes had to chase you, it is you who have to do it; turn the boy you've chosen into a lovesick creature for you before someone else does. playing it online is surely fine, but what happens when you find yourself stuck in its world?

GENRE: yandere, survival/death game, character-driven story, violence/gore, dark psychology, psychological thriller, drama

LVL 2 WARNING: intense emotional outbursts, minor graphic details of gore, ;; not a native eng speaker! grammar errors ahead!,

THEME MUSIC: ROSEATE LIGHT / BGM.

DIRECTOR'S CUT, ep 2 is finally out after two months of grinding!! its not my best work, as im kind of bummed with my eng. i've revised it countless of times, so apologies for any mistakes but regardless i hope yall will still love it <3 btw i don't do taglist for my works, apologies for that! so today concludes the last release for this roleplay game bc i have to finish two film projects which has been delayed for quite awhile now :'( so there won't be any update until further notice! soo yeah 𖹭 hope you enjoy and tyvm for reading!

loading... lvl ②

this is a roleplay story game with a poll, where you may either choose to observe yourself as the protagonist or the one helping the protagonist. to play the game, it is advise to read the story properly because once you've reached the bottom, a poll will be presented with multiple routes you have to choose. every level's poll has a 1-week time limit, and therefore it is advise to not rush to vote and to have a discussion among each other first, and to think wisely which choice you think are the best —as the majority of the votes will decide how the game progresses. but its important to keep in mind, that each route has its advantages and disadvantages and may lead to the protagonists' downfall rather than benefiting her.

AUG 23. 2024

EARTH, ****

i. WHAT IS A GAME TO YOU?

A game is an activity, one that engages with for newfound experiences, for amusement and fun, or simply out of pure boredom.

In a sense, it is a virtual world where you are able to do something you were unable to do in the real world; to live out a role. There are numerous, vast array of games, whether it be analog or digital. So many of them, you couldn't get the definitive, exact count of the total number that exists in the world.

But does that even matter when its main core is to give you an experience out of this world?

The real world.

Where humans assume a role the moment they realize what it meant to live and survive, yet not just one but many. We often rotate these roles like a roulette depending on who we talk with, or what kind of situation we're in, maybe what is expected of us, or to abide by of what is our current status and position.

The origin of the word 'role' could be trace back further to French rôle from obsolete French roule ‘roll’, referring to the roll of paper on which an actor's part was written, and also from Latin—rotula, rotulus 'little wheel', which is a diminutive of rota 'wheel'.

In a sense, we created scripts in our head of how we should act. Because think of this, how would you act if your mechanics suddenly acted like a doctor? Its weird, right? Or maybe depending on your opinion, you may find it hilarious.

That's why we act according to our role, the part given to us, and the many parts that we've assumed on our own.

The most famous quote expressing this comes from Shakespeare: "All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts." 

Shakespeare are implying that all of us are constantly wearing masks. That some people are better actors than others, and he was right.

Person, comes from Old French persone, which derived from Latin persona which means 'actor's mask, character in a play'.

We're all actors in a colossal stage play, with roles to play.

A theatre; maybe you could compare the the actors as blocks—maybe a Jenga? A colossal building blocks that fits perfectly together, forming a cohesive tightly fitting society. Major or minor, each block is a component that serves a purpose to the society—fulfilling our respective roles. Yet that role can be taken away as easy as it was given to you, or even if you worked hard for it.

Why?

There are exactly eight billion people in this world, and these numbers will kept growing. Shall that mask comes off, or if you do not play your role properly, will society still accept you?

No. We are all too easily replaceable.

One block could be filled in or pulled out when the circumstances sees it fit, it's one heck of a big thing, anyways.

Whether it be in your personal life such as friendships, ever heard about trios rarely works? Or in relationships where your lover seems to pay no attention to you any longer and you are left wondering what went wrong? Or perhaps, in your career—where you are thrown out as soon as someone new, someone way younger and capable than you are came around despite pouring your best efforts in that field for so long.

A brief, momentary experience.

Yet some blocks get to never fit in, though. Never knowing how it feels like to be in one. Because it just, never fits in. It remains as a part of the auditorium, sandwiched in between the audience seat.

Say, you desire to inherit a farm or live in the countryside but you don't even have any family nor relatives in this field. Ever wanted to ride a dragon and wear a dazzling heavy armor across the sky? Or have your own restaurant whether it be a Chinese cuisine, maybe not that one but a pizza restaurant where you serve millions of people? Start your own business startup, sign all those contracts with the tycoons and earn that huge bucks of stacks but just don't have the time, energy, and capital to do so? Or maybe a pet shop because you had the unrealistic wish to own dozens of pet breeds?

Want to go through the nine-month process of pregnancy but all the post-pregnancy effects has your face cringing in fear? Or you just wanted to have a small cozy home yet you're too broke to even afford one? A healthy relationship, a functional family? A loving mother? Sure. A responsible father? On the way! Or you just wanted to feel loved? The bare minimum of all?

Sometimes, we're not so satisfied with the roles we end up in—that we are engulfed with a desire.

It could just be a mere hobby, to escape reality, a stress reliever, or to be part of a story you've never been and desires to be in. Its a role that deviates from who you are, from the hands of judgement of the court, where no one can judge you. To live as someone.

A virtual experiences. An immersion. A roleplay. A recreation. A simulation. Whatever you call it, all of them was meant to satisfy. To satisfy an urge, a want, a need—a desire for something. To feel something. To fill in this hollow void within.

To relive what was lost or to live what never existed in the first place.

Because why do we even read stories in the first place, then?

Something you can only do behind that screen, just a second away from your digits.

A chance.

And you were being given the second chance to relive those experience one more time, without having to give something in return.

It is one in a lifetime chance, the fact they don't give this freely to anyone enticed you, tempted you.

You desired to be love and craved for with no care for limit. For you were sure as hell no one would go crazy for you in this life. For you, yanderes are the epitome of love that are eternal and immortal. Anyone can say what they want to, but this kind love, no matter how toxic it may be, are divinely tempting.

For once, you wanted to be loved, not to love.

What harm would it do to you, even? Unless this game pulled a dirty trick of asking you to pay a heavy sum of bucks after, then it go screw itself, you could just press the exit button as swift as you can but for now, you'll see to it.

You accepted the package.

Pressing the button, a set of gift boxes in a variety of colours in their ribbons appeared much to your surprise, floating around in a rhythmic motion accompanied by a new BGM before settling down in a row at the bottom of your screen.

Curious, yet intrigued—you tapped on each gift box.

➤ .. 🎁 HEARTY EYES: APPEARANCE INCREASED BY 10 POINTS!

➤ .. 🎁 LOVE POTION: A WHIFF OF ROSY SCENT!

➤ .. 🎁REPUTATION METER: INCREASE BY 5 POINTS!

New XPs and skills made its appearance one by one, lighting up your eyes with delight and excitement. This new additional gifts would surely help you in your second try! A final gift box appeared out of blue much to your surprise, there's one more? Gulping down with giddiness, exceedingly curious of what it could contain, you tapped it with no hesitation.

➤ .. 🎁 DRESS-UP DARLING, THE GRAND INVITATION: REVEL IN YOUR NEW SKIN!

Eh? Invitation? Skin..?

You rubbed your heavy lids, for what purpose would you need a new skin for? Brows knitted deeply together deeply the peculiar package. Perhaps it could contained some extra points that may increase your appearance judging by its title.

New skin..

You accepted the gift box, and to your surprise—it returned you back to the options of play again, or return to the main menu in which you pressed the latter. What? That's it? No such thing as redirecting you into a fishy website, or all those eye-boggling digits?

Breathing out a small wow, although short-lived as your jaw dropped. Gasping after noticing the devil hours glaring back at you—illuminating your dark eyebags in blue hues—the sequences of events where your employer scolded you, slamming the colossal bold title of 'fired'—sending you in sheer panic.

Placing it under your pillow on your right side, you hurried to sleep as you tucked yourself in your cozy blankets.

Pitch black cloaked the entire expanse of the sky, yet the hush of the moon herself—conquered with vigor, casted a soothing spell—beckoning your heavy lids to succumb to its embrace.

Drifting into the darkness, you did.

Unbeknownst to you, a glow of light flickers beneath your pillow—illuminating the edge of your slumber face, approaching like mist— overshadowing the moon—dusting half of your nose a stroke of rosy tint, morphing into a heavier shade that consumes your face, to scathing your entire skin in streaks of crimson.

It progressively crawled out like an animated form of blood, dripping down your bed and onto your floor—morphing into razor sharp fingers that obscured your windows from the outside world.

Submerging your window in deep red, illustrating the image of an apocalyptic day.

The floor, your furniture, your closet—enveloped by its approaching force—bathing everything it could see in red. Returning to your side, it tucks your locks behind your ear before slithering across your arm, twirling around and settling on the table by the bed.

A display screen glowed amidst the flaming red, typing out a text:

APRIL 8, 2026 ➤ .. Good night, my darling.

The ceiling of your room greeted your drowsy lids. You groaned, irritated by the rays of the sun peering through the gaps of the curtain—casting its searing heat on your face.

You shifted your body where your back faces the window, your hands instinctively searching for your phone under your pillow, frowning when you couldn't grab anything.

Head clouded with slumber, you were sure you had placed it right there. Shifting your body once more, yawning as you stretched your hands on the bedside table.

There it is!

Raising your eyelids a bit, you tapped your phone's screen twice expecting to be greeted by your lock screen. Eyebrows knitting deeply as you quickly paused, rubbing your eyes to get a better look.

"Huh?"

Stunned by the peculiar color of rosy pink blotting your blurry vision. You felt the cold material in your palms, searching for the supposedly touch screen but it was too small and slim—hold on. You jammed your thumb in-between the two layers, flicking it open.

The heck is this? A flip phone? You were sure you've threw your barely working flip phone years ago. And it wasn't even p-pink?

Your sleep-dazed brain swirls with deeper confusion as you navigated through the strange tiny icons. All dripping in pink much to your disbelief.

Favors? Schedule? Student info? What the heck is all this weird stuffs? Your eyes widened when you finally notice the three-digit clock, it propels your body to tense almost immediately, sitting right up with eyes blown wide.

A high-pitched of whines escapes your lips. You're in for a great risk of getting fired today. You pulled the blanket off your frame, hurrying to get ready before all the eerie prospects in your mind come true—

Huh? Hold on.

Your body halted when you put your bare feet on the floor, eyes falling on a carpet that strangely looks a tad bit different than it used to. The patterns? The color? Groaning, you passed it off as another trick your brain playing on you as you just woke up. You rubbed your groggy eyes, yawning as you sprinted to the bathroom.

You really got no time for this, mumbling as you grabbed your toothbrush, putting a toothpaste on it before pushing into your mouth. So much for playing the damn game, now you're terribly, terribly late.

A fatal hit to your ten year streak as a diligent corporate worker. Now that you thought of it, a sigh escapes amidst the bubbles in your mouth. After awhile, with this mundane average life of yours that you've lived over the years, you've begin to wonder when will the time come for you to save up enough money to be able to quit? You've never had even a single vacation out of embarrassment and consideration for your co-workers.

At some point, you've felt like you were an automatic machine repeating and completing the same tasks every single day for ten years. It came to a brief thought that perhaps you were only truly living at night.

If only there's a world where you an escape to for awhile, away from this boring reality. But there's no way that world exists. If only you could—

Thoughts halted, looking at your reflection in the mirror. There is something wrong, and no, it's not your face—though you look strangely youthful? Leaning closer, you inspected your features with furrowed brows. Dark eyebags and the wrinkles nowhere to be found.

Eh?

Heck, you weren't that old, for sure. Yet you look slightly younger for some reason. Squinting your eyes, you stood a few inches away from the mirror, pulling a random poses as you try to observe anything you could find. Poking your cheeks that was strangely supple, a stark contrast of the hollow cheekbones you captured in your camera a few days ago, complaining to your friend of how you were aging so rapidly.

All those random beauty products she recommended to you finally worked out? Or was it the short burst of sleep you got? Knitting your eyebrows together at the thought as you resumed brushing your teeth, it can't be though?

Wait. Hold on.

You let out a gasp, snapping your head behind to you where your bathtub stood in it's glory. That's it. That's the shit. That pristine ceramic shooting rays against your face.

You don't have a fucking bathtub.

Where did that giant heck of a thing came from?

You've spent all your years dreaming for one, to submerged yourself in bubbles to chill in after a long day of work.

However to do that, a better apartment and an extra space is what you needed first, where you could put everything in their respective place. Having everything meld into one small room is mentally exhausting, and that wish only seems get further and further away from your grasp when that five digits holding the thread of your life keeps slamming you back to reality, leaving you cramped up inside your tiny apartment.

Maybe this is the sign that you should just be grateful and not to be greedy for more. But..

But this thing—is truly in front of you.

You took a few steps backwards to take a full view of the bathroom; it's oddly familiar but unfamiliar at the same time. You were sure you've seen this somewhere but you can't put it right in your mouth. With confusion hanging in your head so deep, you took a few gargles—finishing up.

Thinking back to it, this bathtub kind of look familiar.

You stood by the door, pausing for a thought you tilt your head sideways.

Something is amiss and it begin to sink in.

This is not your room.

With the realization setting in complete form, you stood there in bewilderment—snapping your head around, observing the unfamiliar furniture and corners of this strange room.

Where are you? And what the hell is that uniform hanging at the wall for? Are you perhaps having a lucid dream, where you could feel pain and all that sort of stuff? It must be those weird YouTube videos you've watched over the past few days.

Somehow, this looks like.. This looks like just like—

No way, though. You let out a nervous laugh. Pinching your cheeks hard, you let out a terribly loud 'ow', frowning at the throbbing pain. Why the heck does it hurts so much?!

➤ .. WELCOME, DARLING! I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU FOR SO LONG!

You lose your balance, letting out a high-pitched scream from your throat—tipping off your sole when a huge floating pink object emerged out of nothing at your face. A computer display?! Almost like the science fiction films you've watched, it resembled a hologram but much, much more vivid and vibrant, floating before you.

A p-popup?

"W—what? Huh?!" Elbows digging on the floor, your expressions contorts into an amalgamation of fear and confusion. You hissed at the throbbing pain on your butt, rubbing it off to ease the pain. Why the heck does it hurt so much?!

You notice as it swiftly typed out a question.

➤ .. OH MY... HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN?

What is that thing?..

"W-what? What did I forgot?" Stammering, you blurted out without much thought.

➤ .. YOU LOSE LAST NIGHT. WHICH IS QUITE UNFORTUNATE, YET IT IS TO BE EXPECTED, AFTER ALL.

"The heck are you talking about?"

➤ .. YOU'RE IN MY GAME.. IN THE WORLD OF YANDERE SIMULATOR!

It took you a whole minute to process the words, laying there on your elbows. Until a high-pitched laughter spills out of your mouth, legs kicking in frantic motions as you try to push yourself up to stand.

Yandere Simulator? The game you were playing?

Bursting into another round of giggles, holding your stomach with your arms at this newfound joke. "M-me? In a game? More like in a dream!"

After what seem like a long laugh. You let out a huge exhale, now completely sure that this is a dream.

"Okay, wake up now," You slapped yourself on the cheek lightly a few times, clearing your throat as you shut your eyes tight. "You're too freaking obsessed with that game for god's sake. Wake up, wake up!"

A few beats of silence echoes.

You open your left eye, taking a peek. But to your disappointment, you're still in this weird dream.

➤ .. YOU'RE IN MY GAME. DON'T YOU GET IT?

You ignored it. Rushing back to the bed, tucking yourself in the blankets. Go back to sleep, idiot. You screamed in your head.

A robotic giggle suddenly hit your ears, forcing your eyes to open as goosebumps riled across your skin.

That thing is giggling for fuck's sake, you thought. It bounces as its pink color flickers on and off, syncing with its giggles.

➤ .. WELL, I'LL LEAVE IT UP TO YOU TO FIND IT OUT YOURSELF THEN. IT'S A GAME AFTER ALL!

Your jaw dropped. It disappeared. More like vanishes into nothing like how it appeared out of blue. What? You weren't imagining things, do you? It w-was there, just now!

You immediately stood up, with your foot planted firmly on the floor, urgency and nervousness amplified with every second.

A game? How ridiculous.

This place that somehow resembles the game you've been playing for awhile now, it's complete nonsense. Your brain tries to search for an answer and your face beams up.

Or perhaps is it the end of the world? Have Earth been conquered at last?! Were all those news from thirteen years ago were real? Repulsed by the idea, you lose your tipping trying to make sense of this holographic square before you.

But wait, Earth is too dumb for aliens to even consider to conquer. Maybe you've had time traveled? Shit. Have you accidentally teleported into the future where cities had advanced in great lengths and technology? It could explain why that weird thing just now resembles those science-fiction stuffs.

"Am I.." You pointed towards yourself, voicing out a scary question. "In the future? Like 3000-ish or something?"

No? Thank god.

Wait, this could be lucid dreaming, though.

The fact that you're having a dream of the game, it must've been triggered by your outbursts of your failure last night. Such a vivid and immersive experience, there's no more fitting answer than that. Were you so damn obsessed with the entire game to lead you this point?

You scoffed in disbelief, placing your hands on your waist as you poked your cheek with your tongue. This is stupid.

If this is a lucid dream, then.. If you recall it correctly, to exit out of it—it requires you to say a script out loud, or perhaps do a particular action such as exiting a door or running across a hallway to mimic the speed of time, so as to accelerate your brain back to its conscious mode.

Appalled by the sequences of this strange dream, you made up your mind as your eyes darted over the door. Here you go! Pushing the door open with your might, you're greeted by a strange hall filled with rooms on your either side. This is strange, you thought. Without wasting any more time, you sprinted down the stairs where you can see a ray of light illuminating the bottom of the stairs.

Jumping off, you took a leap—landing on your feet with a thud.

"Dear, what's going on?"

You froze on the spot.

That voice. That face. It can't be..

W-what is t-this?

You haven't heard it for so long. How long had it been? You lose your footing on the stairs, covering your mouth as your hand trembles, mimicking the rampant movement of your pupils. This portrait before you, one that was long forgotten, one you've last seen so long ago.

"H-how?" You found yourself falling into your father's arms, feeling his warmth. The sensation of his freezing palms when you held it in the morgue crashes back to your head. Am I in heaven?

Were you actually dead?

"D-dad!" You wailed in his arms, gasping for air, you tried to wrap your head in this dilemma. "Y-you know that I m-miss you so much! Why did you left without saying anything?!"

No response.

Wiping off the tears off your eyes as you pulled away, trying to take one more look at your long dead father. He can't be here, you've seen it, with your own two eyes when he was buried sixty feet underground.

But this man right here, that face. You're not mistaken. From the head to toe, it was just like the day you've last seen him. "You- you aren't real, are you?"

"Honey, sweetie, breakfast is ready!"

The voice of your mother caught you off guard, eyes darting swiftly at the door across the room—caught off guard by the voice calling for you from the kitchen. Mom? Why is she— Beside her, your elder sister and younger brother are seated in the dining room, waving their palms at you,

"M-mom? Sis? What are you all doing here?"

With questions growing havoc inside you, the appearance of your mother preparing food in the kitchen puzzled you deeper. You look over at the dining room where your siblings are seated, indulging in their phones with your father now joining them in the middle—reading his newspaper for the day.

A scene all too familiar that it crawls all over your skin with rampant fear.

Home. It felt like home. But at the same time.. its not.

"Am I really dreaming?" You cupped your face, feeling the evident warmth of your blood rushing to your cheeks.

"What's wrong?"

Your soul shrinks at that voice. A gasp escapes your throat as thousand no's shrouded your head knowing all too well that this is purely impossible. Before you knew it, tears spill once more from your eyes as you turned your head towards that voice—however this one bears no longing, nor sorrow—it was resentment swirling with humiliation.

The visage that brought your whole world crumbling into pieces, flooding back a long forgotten winter that cripples away your will to wait for the next spring.

You feel yourself turning small, vulnerable—a thousand needles absorbing into your ribs. "What are you doing-" Whimpering, you casted nervous glances at everyone, "W-why is h-he here..?"

Taking a few step backwards, as you release a shaky breathe.

"W-who let him in?"

You frantically glance at your family, desperate for a response, an answer. Whereby the pitch of your voice growing louder with every second that passes as they only casted you a spine-chilling stare.

A long, empty one.

"Who let him in here?!" You repeated.

"Sister? What's wrong?" He tilted his head down, bearing an innocent expression.

"S-sister?" You emitted a scoff of disbelief, raising your arm to harshly point at him and then towards the door. "What sick game are you playing?! Get out! Get out!"

"Why are you saying that to your brother, honey?"

"Brother? M-mom— Are you being for real?!"

"Why, honey? He is your brother, you grew up together."

You were on the verge of cursing when suddenly your family—every single of them, suddenly stood in synchronization.

Alarmed by the downright frightening scene, your feet instinctively step backwards. "W-what's going on?"

If fear was something you'd never truly comprehend before, then this one tops it all.

"What's going on?" Each one of them repeated the same sentence, voices layered on top of another, resembling a cult ritual. "Darling. This is your reality." They all look back at you.

Your heart palpitate rapidly, every muscle in your body pulsated in sheer terror. Voice dripped in heavy desperation, only for it to come out louder than you expected it to. "What the fuck?!"

Suddenly, the familiar robotic giggle reaches your ears from behind.

➤ .. SO HOW'D YOU LIKE MY GIFT? ➤ .. I BROUGHT THEM HERE FOR YOU, ➤ .. SO YOU WON'T BE SO LONELY.

Your blood-shot eyes snapped to its direction, stumbling backwards on the stairs with terror engulfing your soul.

"W-who are you?" You yelled at the top of your lungs. "What are you?!"

That thing resembling a computer display carries such a heavy presence with it, you can feel it crawling in your soul—the display screen gnawing at your frame despite its lack of facial expression. Mimicking your movement and the text box flashing in timed intervals indicating its next reply didn't do nothing but give you a heavy uneasiness.

This unsettling energy it carries as it begins to type out a new sentence.

You are aching so bad to get away from this thing as far as you can.

➤ .. WHAT CAN I SAY, WHAT AM I? JUST A LITTLE POP-UP TO GUIDE YOU IN THIS WORLD.

Your frown deepens, "Guide m-me? What?"

➤ .. I TOLD YOU, DIDN'T I? YOU'RE IN A GAME.

"Stop that bullshit! Just what kind of nightmare is this?!" Smacking yourself in the cheeks once more, yet harder than you did the first time.

With trembling hands, you try to force yourself to wake up from this terrifying nightmare.

➤ .. "TAKE A LOOK AROUND FOR YOURSELF, THEN, AND SEE WHERE YOU ARE STANDING RIGHT NOW. ➤ .. DOESN'T IT LOOK FAMILIAR?"

Splayed fingers over your eyes, you observed the whole space.

These peculiar animated expressions despite the humane features, despite being the faces you've held love for—it's akin to machines having a prosthetic skin glued on it, mimicking the data installed in their drive.

But it can't be. It's just completely impossible for you even to wrap it around your head.

You, in a game?

Heart rampant. Clammy hands. Your feet frantically deciding which way to go. Before your eyes caught on to the sun rays peering behind the closed curtains, rushing towards it— swiftly pulling it open.

No. It can't be.

With disjointed thoughts, eyes darting around you. You searched for logical explanations yet with this pounding chest, trying to form a coherent sentence. Your mind says that it can't be possible, but your eyes are saying otherwise.

"T-there's no w-way."

Yet as you turned your head to every single thing in this house, your blood runs colder and colder. Every single furniture you've tapped on a screen are now before your eyes. The hours you spent on navigating around the living room, before going on with your missions and side tasks—it was now all here.

All before your eyes. Where your fingers could feel the physical edges and corners. Every single thing.

➤ .. "YES YOU ARE! AIN'T IT FUN? A WHOLE NEW IMMERSIVE EXPERIENCE! ➤ .. YOU CAN NOW MEET JUNGWON, HIMSELF!"

No.

There's no way this was possible. You can't accept it. No. No. No.

"No, t-this is not it!" Stammering, you shook your head frantically. "T-this is n-not what I wanted!"

➤ .. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN? ➤ .. DON'T YOU DESIRE TO MEET YOUR FAVOURITE BOY WITH YOUR OWN EYES?"

In your head, it sinks in deeper and thoroughly.

"I don't- I don't care!" Panic emerges inside you. "Is there a way out? There must be, right?! I don't want to stay here!"

➤ .. "OF COURSE YOU DO! WHY ELSE WOULD YOU TRY TO PLAY TWICE?"

"This is not what I mean!"

It came out louder than you expected, laced with sheer desperation as it finally sank in.

The ground doesn't feel real. Even this feet of yours. Everything is so out of place. The pitch of your voice spills out longer, dramatic and exaggerated. Your breathing grew heavier yet short, as if it were being pressed down by sheer gravity.

You look down on your hands, inspecting the finger prints yet it took just that before you clawed down your head as you imagined yourself in this vast virtual world where no one is alive but you.

You wanted to go back.

➤ .. "YOU DO. IT IS WHAT YOU WANTED IN THE FIRST PLACE. YOU'VE ACCEPTED MY INVITATION, REMEMBER? ➤ .. AND I DID NOTHING BUT GRANTED IT WITH PLIGHT."

You see nothing but red.

"Stop twisting my words." You spat out. "No! Bring me back! Th—this isn't what I wanted! You—whatever you are, please!"

"Just bring me back, to my home! I don't want to stay here!"

The pop-up remains silent, not typing out any response to your pleas.

The prospects of being trapped in here forever without any form of escape shrouded your thought with numerous case of scenarios of how lonely it would be, how scary it would be, rendering you to be totally emotional.

"How was I even able to get inside a game? That just isn't possible! Wake up, wake up!" You smacked yourself in the cheeks, pinching your arm only for you to let out a yelp.

It just floated, despite bearing no eyes. You felt like it was looking down on you with glee.

"Answer me! This was never stated anywhere in the game!"

Clutching on the table near you, struggling to keep yourself steady and composure.

You twisted your feet inwards, launching yourself to throw a punch at that thing, however it vanishes—causing you to fall on your hands. Hissing, It didn't deter you from trying once more, filling the space with your screams and profanities, however your humane limits is nothing in comparison with the swift and flawless dodges of the virtual pop-up.

You tried, over and over again.

Getting up countless of times, but not even a stroke of your finger could you land a hit on it.

➤ .. AN ADMIRABLE EFFORT, I MUST SAY. ➤ .. YET IT'S POINTLESS, MY DARLING.

Your feet paused on its tracks, exhausted beyond your limit. Fringe latching on your sweaty skin as you dropped on your knees in despair.

This... can't be your reality.

Clenching your fist tight, you pushed yourself up, racing towards the door, slamming it open only for you to squint your eyes at the blaring morning sunlight. Pushing you to look down to your bare feet planted against the asphalt, a strange feeling beneath your soles. It should've been ceramic..

Your body stiff as your eyes were presented with a sight you've never seen before.

Last night, you were inside your run-down apartment, three stories high where you could see the city tower beyond. Instead of the stairs greeting you in the morning when you opened your door, a gate stood across from you. High-rise buildings are nowhere to be seen, that should've been in high up there once you lifted your head up.

There was no way you could've been suddenly in a damn house. In a strange place. And in a town with its architecture's nothing close to where you came from.

Snapping your head to look behind you. Your stomach twisted and shattered in pits. It is that house.

➤ .. "ESCAPING IS FUTILE, MY DARLING. ➤ .. THIS WORLD IS ENDLESS, LIMITLESS. ➤ .. THERE'S NO POINT OF RETURN."

"Please, let me go!"

You can't be here. You still have work today. What if you lose your job? You have no knowledge of how time works here and there. Dropping on your knees, you crawled towards it—unsure of where to hold it, you clasped your hands together. "Please! I can't be here, I still have work! I still have to pay my bills! I— I haven't—"

➤ .. "WHAT ARE YOU SAYING, DARLING? YOU AINT A FULL-FLEDGED ADULT YET. ➤ .. LOOK! YOU'RE GONNA BE LATE!"

It turns around to gesture inside the house, towards the clock on the wall—pulling your tear-filled eyes over it which are currently hovering at 7 AM sharp.

➤ .. "IT'S TIME TO GO TO SCHOOL."

"Bitch!" You spat out, gritting your teeth. "I've graduated eleven years ago! I don't want to play your stupid game!"

Screaming at it at the top of your lungs, growing desperate as the truth begins to sink in every passing second. Propelling your body to react in ways. Crying you did, sinking your body down in unfathomable depth of helplessness.

➤ .. "OH, DON'T CRY, MY SWEET DARLING."

"Is there really no way. . Out?" You mumbled to yourself amidst all the sniffing and heavy gasps. Overwhelmed by the truth alone.

➤ ..YOU JUST HAVE TO PLAY, AND PERHAPS YOU MAY BE ABLE TO RETURN. ➤ .. ALTHOUGH I DO NOT UNDERSTAND YOU HUMANS, I THOUGHT YOU WANTED A BIG HOUSE LIKE THIS ONE. ➤ .. WEREN'T YOU JUST WISHING TO LIVE IN A MORE COMFORTABLE SPACE?

That hits you. It struck the spot inside you where it was most vulnerable. How did it know? You were terrified to ask. Glaring at it with seething rage,

"Whoever you are, I refuse to play your sick game! Who knows what else you got under your sleeve!"

➤ .. AW, SO, YOU DO NOT DESIRE TO LIVE ANYMORE?

Tongue tied, of course you don't want to.

It's not like you were fed up with life to that point despite even after all those years. This wasn't part of the plan. Not in a game where you'll meet your worse death in dreams. This wasn't where you wish to move to, and you refuse to submit. You still wanted to marry. Find a good man and have your own little family—one that is filled with tiny giggles.

"No. You can't force me to play." Clenching your jaw, you spat at it with spite. "I don't care if you kill me. Fuck you and your game!"

Your shaky breath and the searing rays of the sun echoes and echoes, the only thing that was compensating for its lack of response. As it didn't type out any sentences, as if it was trying to comprehend your sentences into its mechanisms.

Until it did.

➤ .. THAT'S NEW, INTERESTING!

It beams up much to your bewilderment, looking almost too delighted? The colors on its display glowed a few shades brighter, compensating for its lack of facial expressions.

➤ .. IF PERHAPS YOU FRET THAT YOU'LL BE LONELY, THEN DON'T BE! YOU ARE NEVER TRULY ALONE IN THIS WORLD.

"They aren't real." You spat out.

➤ .. THEY ARE, BUT NOT FOR LONG

Your eyes widened. "What do you mean..?"

XO ! ii. NEVERLAND'S SONARE

Youthful.

You scanned your features in the mirror, fingertips grazing over the skin under your eyes—where heavy and dark eyebags use to persists, giving you a feeble appearance. Your employer often points it out with distasteful comments, expressing with disdain of how your haggard looks might deter potential clients away and bring discomfort to customers. Of how you ruin the atmosphere, his mood, specifically when you appeared. He often compares you with your fellow co-workers that seemed to look after their appearances with ease.

You complied, yet despite your best efforts in treating it, it just never seems to go away. But now, such a youthful look only to be laced with sullen eyes—not bearing even an ounce of energy.

Everyone wishes to be young once more. What is youth if not to run wild and free across whatever land you may imagine? Away from whatever life you wished to run from?

Not all people define youth the same way, though. To others, it may mean physical appearances. Downing a bunch of so-called youth pills, going through dozens of procedures, going under the knife, or the fantasy aspects of searching for the youth of fountain.

Some people, though—it meant going back to the way they was before a certain event had happened. The innocent little them that was filled with vigor and curiosity for life. Those vivid memories. These kind of people go through therapies, though.

Youth, youth.

What a funny word.

Yet it has such a deepened effect, a strong grasp on everyone's heads. But would ever they accept to be in a game just for that sake?

Another, yet different popup appears before you, displaying a few options.

▶ TELEPORT TO SCHOOL

▶ TELEPORT TO TOWN

▶ TELEPORT TO BASEMENT

What a sick joke.

"Honey? Shouldn't you sit down for breakfast?"

You halted in your steps, gripping your backpack's strap. Perturbed by the scene of your family with your ex-boyfriend by the dining table, this was peak nightmare.

Suppressing the need to scoff at the image of your 'mother', it will never sit right with you, to sit down on the same table with the characters replicated as your family. Even more so with the replica of your father. So fucking twisted.

Your arms ache to embrace him but this is not your father. A home is supposed to be your bed of comfort, a shelter for protection yet this gives you an overwhelming feeling of strangers clumped up in one space. And him. You couldn't comprehend a single thing. Fitting so tightly, but never seems to belong together.

"I'm.." You gulped down, "Not hungry." You said, a little low for them to hear. But does that even matter? When they will eventually forget it, and return to their soulless routine.

You stepped out of the house for the second time, turning even more helpless and small by the sheer size of this map. This city. The street. The open shops. The pedestrian street. Its people. Children crossing the street with glee and joy.

Their innocent laughter sickens you, twisting the pit of your stomach.

The chill spring breeze blows a mouthful of cherry petals across the path ahead of you, dripping with the warm rays of the morning sun, accompanied by the chirping birds above the trees.

It almost looks too real. Just like all these younglings clad in their brightest uniforms mingling and walking alongside you, behind you, and in front of you—shrouding your line of vision, filling the air with their chatters and laughter.

The entrance to the academy greets your eyes with its opulent golden gate, the same scene that you often see whenever you started the game in your phone.

To stand in front of it was beyond your wildest dreams. A sense of dread envelops your body as you begin to step in, seeing the NPCs functioning according their monotonous coding; the teachers conversing with each other, and the students taking of their shoes and replacing it with the school's ones, heading to their respective classrooms or whatever their routine was for the day.

You gulped down, doing the same thing.

Sandwiched in-between them qualms your entire being, turning your legs into noodles. You almost losing your footing when you accidentally bumped against one of the NPCs, apologizing profusely which they in turn gave you subtle weirded out reaction before going off.

Your peripheral view caught the sight of the rooms; faculty, sewing, and so on. As you stood there, observing and observing; your eyes fell on a student with a camera on their hand, being wary of everyone else. Across the hall, you found the familiar scene of the martial arts club's members walking in a straight line. The occult club's leader strolling on his own as usual. The luscious partly dyed hair fading across the stairs, with their sweater knotted around their torso.

You still find it hard to believe, lost in your shrouded thoughts.

"Ugh!" You stumbled, almost falling on the floor if not for your quick reflex of gripping the nearest table. Turning your head to the brief apology behind you, you held the need to scoff. Of course, what is there to be surprised of?

"Oh! Sorry, didn't know you were here. You got too close, after all."

Neatly combed ginger hair, with eyes turning into crescents paired with a sweet smile. A sickening one, truth to be told. The all too familiar armband wrapped around their left arm and that pristine white uniform; the student council.

Your greatest enemy in this virtual world.

Equipped with spectacular wits, eagled eyes waiting for you to make one single mistake, hands itching to throw you into the faculty room once you do so. These students, five of them, in fact—don't trust you a single bit. You recalled the days of how pissed you were whenever they're suddenly appeared, ruining your mission, forcing you to restart all over again.

You mumbled a small it's okay, and she nodded in response, heading off to the opposite direction but not before taking a small peek at you. A gesture that is greatly embedded in their code. If anything, apart from the teachers and cops, the council is something you really have to watch out for.

Dealing with them isn't an easy feat, even trying to kill them is nearly impossible if you don't join the martial arts club first. All that club practices, and skills you have to increase. It was already difficult enough before, and now that you had to do it with your own hands. Things won't get easier from now on.

You'd have to memorize their routine in your mind to properly avoid them.

On the east side of the academy, you head to the second floor where across the hall—classroom 2-1 greets your line of vision. Your feet halted as your ears caught on the conversations of the students chattering about and on, some other students arriving at the spot.

Gripping tightly at the straps of your backpack as your eyes met the cold floor, blotted with differing size of shoes. You muster the strength to lift your head, where beyond you witness—the hymns of the cherry blossom in the courtyard reaches the space, serving as a visual instrumentation to this pretend play; set of movements controlled and navigated by the game's mechanisms.

And there he was as expected.

Across the classroom, beside the window—you could see Nishimura Ri-ki gazing out the vast field with pure concentration.

You made your way to your seat where it is highlighted by pink flurry lights.

Pulling the chair back, you seated yourself down. A wave of uncertainty washes over your soul now that you had the complete view of this classroom. You look beside you when you felt eyes drilling a hole on your head, only to see the boy staring at you down with an uninterested look, or rather an expression you were unable to read. Not caring any less by the obvious fact that he was caught.

"What are you looking at?" You asked, puzzled by the boy's deepened stare, striking a chord in your soul.

"As if I'm looking at you." Ri-ki mumbles, chin buried on his palms.

Taken aback by his lack of manners, you scoffed in disbelief. "E-excuse me?"

He rips his gaze on your frame, yawning as he stretches—deeply confusing you of this new set of movements and dialogues. It appalled you further when he just stood up, leaving as if nothing happened at all.

"Hey!" You called out, but he went on simply ignoring you.

You frowned at his lack of manners, but well it is to be expected as he is the youngest among the yanderes, he'd been in the same class as you since you started the game. Yet you've never got the chance to approach him as there were no dialogues option. He was a close off, deep in his world type of teenager. You could only see him around his members, and mostly Jake.

That's why it surprises you that he talks for the first time.

Or rather that he was surprisingly rude.

You'd forgotten a huge portion of information related to him due to his profile being situated in the very bottom, but he's supposedly attending the Drama Club but dropped out of it after skipping the club activities for nearly two weeks.

So.. everything functions like how it would in the real world, except for their repeated codes and routines. You'd thought that they would act like NPCs in the first place like the ones back in your home but you were proven otherwise, because they were not here yet.

The students in this classroom are.

You no longer have to press buttons, and all those generic options to gain social and reputation points. You would no longer need to approach them first to talk with the.

But for some reason, that words that didn't even amount to a proper conversation stirs something in you. It affected you. Because it felt too real. Almost like you were back in the real world seconds ago. But how is that even possible when you already knew why this virtual world ceases to exist.

Why it existed in the first place.

You held your composure as you seated yourself in the back of this classroom, with everything to bathe in your line of vision. A perfect audience seat to witness this orchestration of parody, of theatre, of life—surrounded with noises, yet it's so hollow.

The word "weird" is not the right word to describe your feeling right now. It was as if you were existing in-between space and time. A world that is in-between.

You don't belong here, yet at the same time, you do. You are alone, but you are not exactly alone.

Biting your lip, you clenched a fistful of your skirt as you lowered your head down, shutting your eyes tight.

➤ .. WHY DID YOU CHOOSE THIS GAME?

Appalled by its question, you remained silent---in which it lets out a robotic giggle paired with what you assumed to be a kaomoji.

➤ .. DON'T BE SHY! THERE'S NO SHAME IN DESIRING TO BE LOVED. TO BE THIRSTED FOR, AND TO BE CARED FOR, DON'T ALL WE? ➤ .. YOU PLAYED THIS GAME KNOWING WHAT ITS BASED ON, BUT DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW THIS GAME WORKS?

"Quit messing with me." You spat out.

➤ .. ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT. YOU GUESS IT! WHAT MAKES A HUMAN, A HUMAN. WHAT MAKES THEM ALIVE. WHAT MAKES THEM, THEM; THEIR PSYCHE. ➤ .. SHALL A PLAYER LOSE; A FRAGMENT OF THEIR PSYCHE IS APPLIED IN THE GAME WHICH IN TURN MORPHS INTO A NEW FEATURE IN THE GAME. ➤ .. THE SHELL, WHICH IS THEIR BODY---IS UP TO ME TO DECIDE WHAT I'D LIKE TO DO WITH IT. ➤ .. ABSORPTION AS I CALL IT, YOU HUMANS CALLS IT 'UPDATE'!

"Ab-absorption?" As you read along the lines, something leaks out from behind your ribs. "Are you saying that there were.. p-people before me?"

➤ .. VERY SMART, MY DARLING. YES, EVERY SOUL IS SPECIAL AND UNIQUE, ➤ .. THEY BRING A WHOLE NEW FLAVOR TO THE GAME. WHAT THE GAME MAY TAKE, IT WILL DO SO ACCORDINGLY WITH THE HEART OF THE HOST. THE HEART DECIDES. ➤ .. ANY PSYCHE; LIGHT OR DARK; WHATEVER HAS THE MOST IMPACT IN THEIR SOUL ARE PULLED INTO THIS GAME. THEREFORE YOU CAN SAY, EACH PLAYER INFLUENCES THE GAME. ➤ .. YOU CAN CALL IT, THE PROOF OF THEIR LIFE. EMOTIONS, THEY'RE THE ONLY THING THAT IS ETERNAL AND IMMORTAL.

"Shoot!"

Students bursts into a fit of laughter, playing a silly game before class.

A groan surfaces.

"Guys, stop being so noisy. I'm trying to concentrate here!"

"Concentrate, on what? Exams?"

A round of giggles followed after.

Clawing your fingers over your head as you try to push off all these sounds, all these meaningless conversations. You knew this set of dialogues will be repeated again, again and again. Noises that don't held any thing in them.

A subtle knock echoed amidst the petty ordeals, capturing the classroom's concentration out of whatever they were currently at.

Numerous sets of eyes fell on the fragile and tiny frame of a girl with a bandana wrapped around her head, as she carries a tray full of baked muffins; a familiar image of a member of the cooking club.

"Hey, anyone wanna taste some muffins I made?"

A round of cheers and bouts of exclaimed hungers send shivers down your spine. You watched as each of them took their turns, taking the muffin from the tray.

"Hey,"

With heavy eyes, you met hers that was wholly empty, like looking into a deepest depths of a well, wondering if you'll ever capture something in motion, only to be greeted with somber reality that there was not.

"Want one?" Hair dripping in jet black, tied up in a half updo bun. Those words floated out of her faint pink lips that had subtle bite marks on them, it seems old and scarred. A gentle voice that complements her soft features. "Been trying to perfect this recipe, can you give me your feedback after you tasted it?"

Perfect.. perfect what?

You suppressed the need to scoff, instead forcing a painful smile as you took the muffin from the tray. "Thanks."

"Hanni! It tastes so good!"

"Oh my god, really? I'm so glad!"

All these faces.. This sheer size of the game, the fact that they were all here, meant that no one has ever truly won this game.

➤ .. THAT ..WILL BE YOUR ENDING IF YOU LOSE, WHEN YOU FAIL—THEY WILL, TOO END UP HERE WITH YOU. ➤ .. ISN'T IT LOVELY? ➤ .. BLOOD IS THICKER THAN WATER THEY SAY, YET THIS EMOTION CALLED 'AFFECTION' IS A LOT MORE STRONGER. YOUR AFFECTION FOR THEM IS THE REASON THEY'RE ABLE TO BE REPLICATED IN THE FIRST PLACE. I DON'T SEE WHAT'S THE PROBLEM THOUGH, ATLEAST YOU'LL BE WITH YOUR FAMILY! ➤ .. WON'T THAT STILL BE A HAPPY ENDING FOR YOU?

How is that a happy ending? You couldn't utter that one question. How is any of these a happy ending?

You laughed. A short yet broken one, with your eyes getting blotted with swirls. Sucking your lips in as you tried to understand it, yet your eyes mirrors your thoughts; pacing round and round. You don't even know where to begin. What even is this madness? It's insane. Terribly insane.

So, all this time.. You were playing a game made out of real people? Real people who used to live?

A stupid, stupid game you once found imminent solace in, are nothing but a mass graveyard. You could at least stand it a bit more if you weren't walking alongside with people that used to live. But no.

No wonder why this world is so vast.

Even that word is an understatement. A virtual world you could spend all your day in it. No. It's a stage, a dollhouse where the audience is also its mastermind, with strings attached on the puppets—ripping, tweaking, weaving, piecing together into an amalgamation of their desired character.

Those missing people plastered on posters all round the alleyways and all else, with a trace nowhere to be seen, as if they never existed in the first place. You've wondered if perhaps this is where they've fallen into. Some of them.

You wonder how each of them met their end? All of them must have failed in numerous ways, but one thing is clear; they lose and that's what leads them to their current state—once a fallen player, their existence will be wiped out..

From everything they've ever been, subjected to a monstrous aftermath.

A monster that preys and feeds on people's desires. A monster that rewrites new scenarios, events, and all sorts accordingly every time someone falls in and loses—then it makes perfectly sense, absorbing the players in it keeps the game alive.

How cruel.

You shook your head, breaking your brain in half trying to search for a way. "I'll play! Just please, don't put my family into this!"

➤ .. THAT IS NOT HOW IT WORKS, MY DARLING. THE ONLY WAY FOR THEM TO AVOID GETTING SUCK IN HERE WITH YOU IS FOR YOU TO 'UNLOVE' THEM. ➤ .. WOULD YOU BE ABLE TO DO THAT?

Your head fell down in agony. There's no way you could do that. That is beyond reality. You don't fell out love with someone in just a day, do you?

➤ .. NO RIGHT? ➤ .. WHY'D YOU THINK YOUR EX-BOYFRIEND WAS ABLE TO BE REPLICATED IN THE FIRST PLACE?

➤ .. THAT'S VERY WELL THE REASON WHY THIS GAME WILL REMAIN IMMORTAL WITH ITS HOSTS' ETERNAL SOULS. ➤ .. NOTHING IS ETERNAL BUT A HUMAN'S SOUL. WHY'D YOU THINK A MERE OBJECT COULD HOLD CURSES AND PROMISES? FEELINGS IMMORTALIZED EVERYTHING. ➤ .. HUMAN NATURE IS SO COMPLEX AND STRONG, YET SO FRAGILE. IT LEAKS OUT WHEN ITS BROKEN. SO LONG AS HUMANS BEAR THESE FORCES, NOTHING WILL EVER FLOATS AWAY. ISN'T THAT FASCINATING?

"Wait," You lifted your eyes from the floor, gulping down. "How about the yanderes themselves? W-were they once real people too?"

Its pink shade glowed and dimmed down.

➤ .. WHO KNOWS? ➤ .. WHAT DO YOU THINK? ➤ .. THAT IS FOR YOU TO KNOW WHEN YOU SUCCEEDED.

There it goes again. Playing with you.

"Then how do I win?" The question came out dry, filled with nothing but helplessness.

➤ .. YOU KNOW VERY WELL THE ANSWER YOURSELF, DARLING. IT'S SIMPLE. ➤ .. JUST MAKE SURE YOU GET TO BE THE ONE TO TIGHTEN HIS HEART STRINGS, AND NO ONE ELSE. ➤ .. AND THAT IS TO ELIMINATE ALL THOSE OBSTACLES THAT STRIVES TO BE THE APPLE OF HIS EYES. ➤ .. YOU MUST BE IT INSTEAD. ➤ .. AND YOU DO KNOW WHAT IT TAKES TO ACHIEVE THAT, RIGHT?

Right, it's very simple it's almost hilarious. You'll end up just like any side character if you fail to become the yandere's darling.

The law of attraction. You attract what you desire. Yet often times, you received it in the most twisted forms presented by life.

If you want to live, you have to make sure he falls for you and no one else.

These yanderes are unable to discern between genders. Male or female, any breathing living being is a threat in their love-sick perspective. The mere, mere you are perceived in this light where just being close with their darling regardless of proximity and labels—is as easy as labelling you a sore thumb or better yet a pest that latches to what they deemed as theirs.

Because to them, who the fuck do you think you are? You don't even deserve to breath the same air or step in the same ground as their darling. Absurd. But to them, their darling is the source of their oxygen. Taking away what gets them going is the same as murdering them. That's basically refusing them their human rights, you know?

So if you don't get that—then in their eyes, you're better off dead because you don't deserve it either.

They adorned this bright smile around everyone, being friendly and welcoming but beneath that facade was a seething intricate web of lies and manipulation, waiting to strike. If you were too dumb to notice or deduce all the signs, then it will only be by the end of the day, when the sun has set, when it's the moonlight's turn to conquer—will you only then know, that you've dug the path to your grave.

A creature governed by heart, molded by its whims and beats. Turning into a recipe for disaster.

Exhilarating, you're drawn to this very concept ever since. However, even when you've wish for this beings to exist, prayed for them even. It was never in your wildest dreams that you'd be stuck in a game with one.

➤ .. ANY INQUIRIES, YOU MAY CHECK YOUR FLIP PHONE. IT CONTAINS EVERYTHING YOU NEED TO KNOW LIKE A HANDBOOK."

You fished out the object in question from your pockets, the flip phone back in the morning—it remains heavy on your palms despite its lightweight material, as it bears your life—containing everything.

Inside this, you are able to check everything that is necessary for you to know; tasks, favors, schedule, inventory, etc. The date is set in the year 2026, yet the phones they used were from twenty years ago—a world where social media hasn't reached its peak yet.

It's a world that stood in the midst of everything.

➤ .. FLIP PHONES WAS NOT A MAJOR FEATURE UNTIL ONE PLAYER WHO HAD AN OBSESSION WITH IT, FAIL. FASCINATING, ISN'T?

A world that is centered around its players' psyche. Then what will your existence bring into this game?

Only time could tell.

➤ .. GOOD LUCK!

Survive.

Yes. That's all I have to do.

The moment you lose everything that is you, you will be nothing but a part of the long lost souls in this deserted land of twisted roleplay game.

You just have to get through it. Make sure not to fail this time. Make him fall for you and not anyone else.

And him. Jungwon. You have to meet him soon. However you can't rush, one wrong move like you did will cost everything

There's one thing you have to consider though—your reputation; forget about getting close to Jungwon, your reputation meter itself is the second most important to your existence here as without it, you're but a burden to the society. The black sheep. You're basically nonexistent here.

All because of that choices and dialogues you've chosen so far in the game, you've set yourself up for failure. The pointer at your meter bar are hovering over the black section. You are left exactly of where you last played last night. The stakes are exceedingly high, dimming down every chance of light to come down your way.

You were already lucky enough to not have your progress reset, however that meant nothing but being perceived as one of Jungwon's rejected love confessions. A girl that has lose his favor. You'd have to find a way somehow to regain your reputation back and most importantly, his heart.

Pretend play, just like playhouse.

Your eyes lingered beyond the window, observing how the petals floated down. But how and where do you even begin? If you recalled it correctly; apart from attending classes, Jungwon's routine consists of hanging around with his friends, spend his alone time in the courtyard, attend his club practices, and then catch up with his friends outside the school's entrance after school. It won't be long till a girl comes around and sandwich herself into his life.

You cannot waste anymore time.

He must be roaming around the academy as of now, most certainly hanging around with his friends. The first period would be done about an hour from now, and he'd be occupied with his routine as well too.

But how the heck do you even approach him again? It would be so awkward and weird in his perspective when a girl he rejected, acts all lovey-dovey, and shameless at that. You might be even labelled as a weirdo, not knowing her boundaries despite being rejected.

Somehow, someway.. You would eventually have to resort to such methods. As much as you loathe the very word, they can either be your obstacles or you an turn them into your weapon. But can you even find the heart to do so? No, that's not the right question, are you even capable of doing that?

Your thoughts were interrupted by footsteps approaching from the distance, revealing a girl with shock illustrated all over her visage.

"Oh my god, guys! This is insane! You have to see this! There's a love confession happening in the courtyard and it's no one other than Yang Jungwon!"

She almost lose her footing as she relayed the message with downright glee, only for a multitude of questions and profanities to rose up in response.

"What?! Who is it?"

"Eh, who?"

"Wait, what?" It came out as a soft whisper, yet a stark contrast of your terror-filled eyes widening, an ear-wrenching creak from your chair emitted because of how you stood up so quickly, following after them.

What do you mean, a love confession?! I haven't even started yet!

The halls quake immensely like soldiers in their training, seas of shoes slammed against the floor all while multitude of questions arose in your head, where the words spilling out of the students' lips running alongside you only amplified your perennial dread.

Please, please, do not accept it! Please-

You let out harsh yelp when you suddenly collided against someone in full-force, forcing you to fall on your back. Your face scrunched at the throbbing pain in your muscles, clutching your back with greeted teeth. A series of grunts and hisses are layered on top of yours—cussing about how you should watch your steps. Your eyes shoot open, turning your head beside you—only to be met with another member of the Yanderes.

Park Sunghoon. The side of his face planted on the floor, whilst his books and assignment papers scattered about in a mess.

Horror engulfed your features, immediately pushing yourself up. Apologizing profusely as you collected the books and the papers, gathering them in your arms, rearranging them back neatly.

The boy slowly sat up with disheveled hair, lifting his head up with grim expression and narrowed eyes behind those glasses—specifically directed at you. Getting up on his knees, he dusted his pants with a hiss all while fixing his vest back.

"I see that you have eyes just like everyone else," Sunghoon leans forward, an intimidating aura emitting from him causing you to step backwards. "Atleast watch where you're going?"

His lips twisted in a sneer as he spoke, clearly showing you that he is not at all impressed by your clumsy mistake.

"I-I'm sorry—" You stammered, your eyes trembles as it met his brown ones, despite being obscured by the faint lens, it was immensely vivid; swirling in the sands of the sizzling dessert, fiery and intense—you could feel it scorching in your skin, a stark contrast from his icy skin.

So close, you could examine his features decorated with moles, and down at his faint red lips. He did not say anything, yet those blazing pupils examined your features as if it was searching for something.

This is not good. A potential yandere. You don't know why, but you had this inkling creeping inside you that you shouldn't associate yourself with other yanderes except for Jungwon.

"Kid," Leaning away, he let outs a 'tsk' with a frown, perching up the rims of his glasses neatly on the bridge of his nose before snatching his stuffs from your arms, using his other hand to gesture towards his eyes. "Next time, use your eyes more."

Finishing it up by shooting you a glare, and then heading off. You stood there in bewilderment as his silhouette faded in the distance, wondering what had just happened.

Yet you let out a relief exhale.

Park Sunghoon. What was it about him again? The generic description of him being an icy prince bounces back in your head, turning on a beaming lightbulb. Despite being labelled as that, he attends the Cooking Club much to everyone's surprise, together with his fellow member Jay.

The two of them often spent the afterhours experimenting with recipes, forcing their fellow members to taste the dishes they made. It was returned with a slight acknowledgement from Heeseung, commenting that it's not bad, followed by a couple of nods from rest. However you recalled how your stomach aches during a bout of laughter when Jungwon almost choked after—

Wait! You snapped your head behind you, the love confession!

Sprinting to the location where many other students gathered in front of the window shoulder-to-shoulder.

The glass panes of the academy were filled up to the brim, spilling with faces illustrated with variety of expressions; intrigue, interest, disbelief, and envy—all pushing their heads out to get a much better view of the courtyard. The entire commotion echoing the morbid chaos of Baroque paintings.

Yours was illustrated with an invisible weight of a noose looped around your neck. An invisible weight of stones slamming against your face as you halted your steps, nearing the edge of the window.

Like an auditorium with their utmost concentration glued on the stage; a theatre play of a romantic tale, an union of two hearts yet its nothing but a masquerade of your eventual execution.

As beyond that window, a girl you've never seen stood before him. Propelling your eyes to rattle in immense storm, your heart sailing in amidst the raging crimson ocean.

W-where the fuck did she even came from?

It should've been you.

It should've been you beside him—

Your face stiffened, a gasp caught in the back of your throat as your lips fell apart in inches. Everything slowed down except him; everyone, that girl, and you.

This heart behind your ribcage palpitates in a different motion; striking a chord that pounded your veins, till it submerged your eardrums in its frenzied rush. The desire to let yourself fall in his arms grew immense.

Your pupils snapping and panning closer akin to a camera lens, searching deeper for the features that spells your purpose for life. Closer. You couldn't make out the outline of his face. Trying one more time, blinking frantically as the rims of your eyes tears up.

There he was, standing in the courtyard—Yang Jungwon under the the cherry blossom tree, where the dropping petals adorned his visage, bringing in the saccharine touch of life. Exuding sheer perfection, captivating the audience's heart.

This charming aura he carries, laid-back demeanor, the way his fringe sways alike silk with the hush of the spring breeze. It's all too exhilarating. Heartstrings looped around your poor heart. Moonstruck. It propels your eyes to shy away like the moon does.

Chaos.

You wince at the sudden increase of volume reaching your ears, clutching your ears as you yelp with your eyes shut tight.

This trance-like spell, you snapped out of it with terror. Noticing the rosy tint that engulfs your vision whenever it fell on him. This entire landscape bathing in saccharine pink. The rhythm of your heart mimicking his breathing patterns, it aches. How your eyes swell into love-sick hearts against the window's reflection. It perturbed your soul.

What the fuck. This isn't you.

A fatal trouble, you're truly deep into it.

It felt like your face were being pushed into a well against your will.

It must be the game mechanism turning you this way—to be thrown into the same state as the game character you were playing, it sends chills down your spine. You slapped yourself to reality. He isn't real.

"What is she doing?"

"Is that Minji?"

Your ears caught on to the name spilling out of numerous arrays of lips.

That girl, Kim Minji. Enunciating the name on the tip of your tongue, it prompted your head to tilt sideways in confusion. You've never heard or encounter this character in the game before, or perhaps you've miss her existence by not bothering to check the entire NPCs' list.

But..

You were given a second chance to play one more time, so why is there another girl here..? This game functions on love confession, and who ever the girl is—if its accepted by your chosen yandere—then she won.

It will be game over.

However you were dead sure, today wasn't Friday yet. Fishing out your flip phone from your pockets, you flicked it open—eyes widening in fear as the date displays the third day of the week, Wednesday. Two days before the supposed deadline.

"Jungwon, I like you!"

The three words you've been dreading she had uttered.

She immediately shut her eyes tight with her cheeks illustrated with the deep hues of a blossoming rose, eyebrows knitted together, gripping her skirt into shambles within her digits.

Your knuckles involuntarily clenched on the edge of the window.

A series of gasps and murmurs emitted in unison, forming a rather comical orchestration. Some finds it utterly hilarious, leaning into their friend's ears—uttering about how Jungwon would never find her interesting and that her confession was all too vain. There are plenty of interesting faces dripped in the finest wines in the seas of cherry blossoms, far more suitable and deserving of his love, so how could she—a mere girl—are able to catch his interest?

Your lips fell slightly apart, not being able to process the words you're hearing right now as that girl is what you definitely would not call 'mere'. Hush whispers and gossips followed through, one after another, refusing to fleet into nothingness—as it was stuck in the heavy pungent jealousy, tied even tighter with woven prayers for Jungwon to reject her.

They kept chanting; a fool. She's a fool. A fool is all she is. A love confession in the courtyard, for everyone to see. She's setting herself up as the object of amusement, a clown of the year.

This game is truly twisted.

Silence eventually befalls as everyone waited in patience, ribs swelling down with the amount of breathe they took in their lungs, anticipating for Jungwon's answer.

The boy opens his mouth, his expressions unreadable. The tension heavy in weight, with everyone paralyzed and stuck between the two answers. Lips are sewn tight. Wishes differ. Yet those four words bears the flame to your torch of life.

If he.. if Yang Jungwon says yes to this love confession, you're gone for good. Vapored away. Spelling the end of your existence.

Please. Prayers shrouded your mind.

Please don't accept it.

I haven't even started yet!

His outstretched palms reached for the girl's, "I like you too, Minji." Jungwon pulls a shy smile, an affectionate gaze swirling in his eyes.

The girl in question, were filled with aghast, her eyes swimming in bliss as she covered her mouth with her hands.

It was as if time had stopped.

His response elicited a spur of tumultuous reactions from every single student present in the academy; one helping out their passed out friend, with one choking on their sandwich, and the other with their jaw dropped on the ground—while you, are having flashes of your death and your family's tragic end; the scene of you lying down in a pool of blood, while the members of your family falling down into the game—where all of you will eventually lose your consciousness—memories and identities vanishing from the world as if you didn't exist at all.

T-this can't be happening. You shook your head in denial.

Your line of vision drowning into the distant sea, morphing into a crashing storm. Swallowing a sore lump down your throat, you gripped the window's edge, fingers rattling as you watched the entire ordeal playing out.

A portrayal of parody.

It's hopeless. You are going to die.

These rampant thoughts piled up one after another in your head, clouding you with sporadic paranoia as your feet turned outwards, walking away, slowly accelerating in speed—hugging yourself as you choke up on your tears.

XO ! iii. PERSONA

You're done for.

Hiding in the storage room, curling yourself down as you covered your head with your hands. With a thousand apologies to your family all while waiting for death to come and get you. You lamented the day you ever came to found this game.

A pink glow of light illuminated the soles of your feet, turning the space into a well-lit theatre—with you as the main spotlight.

➤ .. WHAT'S WITH ALL THAT FACE?

"I lose." With a hoarse voice and tears dried, you look down your palms---observing its deepened etches. "It's game over."

➤ ..GAME OVER? WHO SAYS? ➤ .. YOU KNOW YOU STILL CAN GET HIM.

"What do you mean I can? He already accepted it! Wasn't that the point?"

➤ .. ACCEPTED WHAT? THE LOVE CONFESSION? THAT DOESN'T MEAN ANYTHING, A GIRLFRIEND IS ALL SHE IS ➤ .. NOT HIS DARLING.

"H-huh?"

➤ .. HIS EYES.. A LOOK OF FONDNESS IS ALL HE HAD FOR THAT GIRL, NOT THE LOOK OF OBSESSION. HIS LOVE METER HAVEN'T EVOLVED INTO WHAT WE CALL A YANDERE METER. THEIR RELATIONSHIP HAD JUST STARTED IN LESS THAN 40 MINUTES. ➤ .. THAT'S WHY YOU HAVE TO GET HIM BACK, AS QUICK AS YOU CAN, BEFORE HE FALL DEEPER. BECAUSE IF HE DOES, DEPENDING ON THE ROUTES YOU TAKE, YOU MIGHT BE UNFORTUNATE TO UNLOCK THE ENDING WHERE YOU ARE MURDERED BY THE YANDERE HIMSELF.

"Get him back? How am I supposed to do that?" How is he supposed to look at you now that he already had a lover, whom he'd rather spend time with? Even if he hasn't turn into a yandere yet, that doesn't make anything easier.

Both paths remains bleak, filled with razor-sharp spikes protruded ahead.

➤ .. WHATEVER YOU MAY CHOOSE TO GO WITH; RUIN HER REPUTATION BY SPREADING RUMOURS, THAT WOULD DO THE TRICK BY GETTING JUNGWON WARY OF HER. BUT ITS QUITE A HASSLE, AND DOESN'T DO YOU AY GOOD AS YOUR REPUTATION IS NOT THE VERY LEAST INTERESTING TO LOOK AT.

You obviously can't.

Gossiping is a deal-breaker. You might've accomplished your goal by tainting her reputation but the price in return accost you in the end. It doesn't benefit you at all as you will be labelled as the 'gossiper'.

➤ .. MAYBE YOU COULD GET HER EXPELLED, BY PUTTING FORBIDDEN STUFFS IN HER BOOKBAG. BUT THAT'S RATHER RISKY? THERE ARE COUNTLESS OF METHODS, YOU CHOOSE.

You remain silent, shaky pupils boring a hole on your hands as you weighed the risks. The receiver of the greater risk is always you. A single mistake costs everything.

➤ .. THEN YOU CAN KILL HER.

Your eyes widened. "No.." Your head shook on its own. "I c-can't do that."

➤ .. WHAT'S THE MATTER WITH IT? ➤ ..IF YOU WANT TO PLAY IT SAFE, PERHAPS GET SOME RAT POISON FROM THE MARKET. SHE WILL BE GONE BEFORE YOU KNEW IT. IT WOULD BE A SPECTACLE, A SIGHT, EVEN!

"I. Will. Not. Kill. Her."

You emphasized, stressing each single word, showing your resolute determination.

There's no way you'd stoop down that low.

Its suggestion was beyond your capability of understanding, nor was it an acceptable one in the first place. You've failed to comprehend how it can utter such chilling topic in such a leisure manner.

And there was no way you could ever bring yourself to witness them relive death for the second time.

➤ .. HUH? WHO CARES? THEY'RE ALREADY GONE, WHAT'S ALL THAT REMORSEFUL LOOK FOR?

It just doesn't feel right. It doesn't sit well with you.

Who were they before they fell into this game?

What did they do?

What did they love to do?

What were their last words before they were gone?

It imbued your insides with a heavy weight, driven with guilt to think of these people with lives they used to hold that was now nothing but an empty hollow shell. Their flesh and skin used as a mere toy.

They aren't just people to you. People aren't static objects. They're beings.

Everywhere you look; all you could see was people that once a life worth of memories before, now sucked up and absorbed as nothing but a code of repetition, and the proof of them living now but a feature that glares against your face.

They're now a burning memory.

➤ .. THIS IS WHAT THE GAME IS FOR, YOU'D THINK YOU STILL HAD YOUR MORALITY INTACT? YOU DON'T SEEM TO CARE MUCH FOR THEM WHEN YOU GO ON A KILL STREAK THAT DAY?

"That doesn't count!" You exclaimed, gritting your teeth. "I never knew they were real people—like who would have think so?"

➤ .. BUT YOU ENJOYED IT. ➤ .. I'VE NOT YET FORGOTTEN HOW YOUR EYES LOOKS LIKE THAT DAY.

Hissing with desperation, you looked down on your splayed hands.

"No.. It was never supposed to be like this." You shook your head, "The game doesn't even work this way, I was suppose to get him before the love confession, two days before Friday! What did you change?!"

➤ .. DON'T YOU GET IT? ➤ .. YOU'VE FAILED ONCE. I DIDN'T SAY ANYTHING ABOUT YOUR PROGRESS BEING RESET, DARLING. THIS WAS AFTER YOUR 'GAME OVER'. ➤ .. IN EXCHANGE FOR YOUR SOUL, YOU ARE GIVEN A SECOND CHANCE TO REDEEM YOURSELF BEHIND THE SCENES. ➤ .. WITH HIGHER STAKES, OF COURSE.

Tears begin to spill from your eyes, "No. . I can't win this way."

Lips trembling as you say so, memories from the past rushing back and flooding your insides with a heavy weight.

Higher stakes? For what? All you wanted was to play. To get into your little fantasy world, devoid of stress. The world was already too far from perfect. With this fucked up corporate life, filled with capitalism, never-ending bills---at this point, you're only surviving through all of it, not living.

But have you been really living all this time?

Everything else in the world has far more worst things that happened to them than you do. But with this small void in your heart, it shouldn't be wrong to be embrace by a little warmth, someone to cup your cheeks in their hands as they press a tender kiss on your forehead, right?

It shouldn't be wrong to indulge yourself in your little silly fantasies. So why?

➤ .. SPARE YOURSELF FROM THE ILLUSION OF GAIN WITHOUT SACRIFICE, MY DARLING.

Nothing is truly free.

This world has always given you an illusion of choice but the thing is, nothing is really free. You may have given something in an exchange for nothing, but life will soon claim it in numerous ways and various forms you could never imagine.

➤ .. OH COME ON NOW! ➤ .. AIN'T THIS A ONE LIFETIME CHANCE FOR YOU? ➤ .. YOU COULD GET AWAY WITH MURDER UNLIKE IN THE REAL WORLD!

"That isn't right." Your head drops down in downright despair. "J-just.. just kill me, I can't do this. Your fucking twisted game.."

➤ .. OH DARLING.. WHY BOTHER ABOUT SOME PETTY LIVES BUT YOUR LOVED ONES? ➤ .. WHO WOULD YOU CHOOSE, A STRANGER WHOSE LIFE NO LONGER EXISTS OR YOUR FAMILY WHO STILL HAVE THEIR WHOLE LIVES BEFORE THEM?

You stiffened. How? How did you actually forgot, how can you forget? Your family.. All these emotional outbursts has rendered you totally hopeless to the point you forgot for a split second that you're not the only one at the stake.

"I will not kill her! I'll find a way.." You clasped your head, desperately trying to think of a better option. "There's got to be some way... Right! The match-making method!"

➤ .. HOW FASCINATING.. ➤ .. YOUR MORALS ARE STILL QUITE INTACT DESPITE HAVING YOUR MENTAL PSYCHE SLOWLY REGRESSING.

What? You lifted your head back up, sniffing and gasping. "What are you saying? R-regressed.. w-what?"

➤ .. WELL, I'M CERTAIN THAT YOU'VE NOTICE SOMETHING WAS WRONG WITH YOU?

You remained silent. Yet as your eyes fell on each word it typed out next, it widens in terror.

➤ .. YOUR YOUTHFUL LOOKS.. ARE NOT THE ONLY THING THAT RETURNED, YOUR MENTAL AND EMOTIONAL PSYCHE AS WELL. IN OTHER WORDS, MENTAL REGRESSION. ➤ .. YOU KNOW THE SAYINGS, YOU MAY BE EIGHTY, NINETY, BUT INSIDE YOU'RE STILL THE SAME. ➤ .. I TOLD YOU, DIDN'T I? YOU AIN'T A FULL-FLEDGED ADULT YET.

"You!" Pushing yourself upwards, gritting your teeth.. "What else you didn't tell me about?! You wanted me-" Pointing at yourself harshly. "To play your game yet you're treating your own player like this?"

➤ .. THERE'S NO FUN IN TELLING YOU EVERYTHING AT ONCE. WHAT'S A GAME FOR IF NOT FOR THAT SOLE PURPOSE? ➤ .. YOU FIGURE OUT EVERY SINGLE THING YOURSELF. WHAT AM I, IF NOT A LITTLE POP-UP TO GUIDE YOU ONCE IN AWHILE. ➤ .. THE REST IS UP TO YOUR WITS AND ABILITIES TO SURVIVE.

"What else didn't you tell me then?!" You yelled at the top of your lungs, clenching your fists tight. "Tell me now!"

➤ .. OH DARLING, NOW THAT'S WHAT I LOVE! ALRIGHT, THEN. ➤ .. DO YOU KNOW.. YOU MAY DO AS YOU WANT YET YOU HAVE TO HURRY. ➤ .. BECAUSE YOUR SOUL WON'T WITHSTAND STAYING IN THIS WORLD ANY LONGER.

"W-what do you mean?"

➤ .. RIGHT! I'VE ONLY TOLD YOU WHAT WOULD HAPPEN AFTER YOU LOSE, THE FINAL PHASE OF ABSORPTION. ➤ .. NOT ABOUT THE FIRST PHASE.. YET, THE PROCESS OF ABSORPTION.

The terror swirling inside the pit of your stomach grew tenfold. First phase..?

➤ .. ARE YOU SCARED? DON'T BE! I THOUGHT I'D SPARE YOU FROM THIS KNOWLEDGE A LITTLE BIT LONGER, YET THIS VIGOR OF YOURS INTRIGUES ME. ➤ .. YOU KNOW, ABSORPTION DOESN'T START THE MOMENT YOU FAIL. IT STARTED THE MOMENT YOU'VE ACCEPTED MY INVITATION. ➤ .. YOU CLAIMED YOU DON'T WANT TO KILL, YET DARLING, THAT'S FAR FROM THE TRUTH. YOU'VE ALREADY DONE IT ONCE. ➤ .. BECAUSE THE SKIN IN WHICH YOU WERE PLAYING ALL THIS TIME, THE 'YOU' THAT LOSE LAST NIGHT IS ONE OF THE FALLEN PLAYERS' SKIN. BY ACCEPTING MY INVITATION FOR A SECOND CHANCE, A SECOND TRY. YOU'VE AGREED TO USE YOUR OWN SKIN, REMEMBER? ➤ .. THEREFORE IN THAT VERY MOMENT, IT HAD BEGUN.

Every single word it types out struck you deeper and deeper.

➤ .. AND NOW, YOU'D THINK THAT YOU ARE STILL YOU. WELL YES, IN FACT, YOU STILL ARE. ➤ .. BUT THE FIRST PHASE IS.. HOW CAN I SAY? IT BEGINS.. WITH YOUR YOUTH SLOWLY AND AND GRADUALLY RETURNING BACK. ➤ .. YOU'LL LOOK MORE YOUNGER WITH EACH DAY. ➤ .. AND THEN YOUR SOUL WILL START REGRESSING TO THE VERY MOMENT YOU EXPERIENCE THE PEAK OF EMOTION; JOY, BLISS, LOVE, WRATH.. THE POINT OF LIFE WHERE IT HAS IMPACTED YOU THE MOST. YOU WILL FIND YOUR MEMORIES FROM THAT POINT GROWING MORE VIVID AS IT WAS YOUR FIRST TIME TO EXPERIENCE IT. ➤ .. IN A SENSE, THE YOU FROM THAT PARTICULAR POINT WILL RETURN. ISN'T THAT FUN?

"Are you s-saying," Stuttering, struggling to form coherent words according to what you just read. "T-that everyone," You paused, engulfed with disbelief. "—around here.. was stuck in a particular age?"

➤ .. CORRECT! ITS THE AGE WHERE THEY FEEL THE MOST INTENSE EMOTIONS FOR THE FIRST TIME. ➤ .. KIND OF LIKE, TIME TRAVELLING BUT A LITTLE DIFFERENT!

Your lips fell apart.

Everyone here.. are the manifestation of when their psyche receives the most impact. As if getting absorbed here wasn't enough. They even had to suffer?

➤ .. BUT IT DOESN'T END THERE.

It twirls around, with its pinkness glowing brighter in shade every passing second. It leans closer, looking down at you.

➤ .. TO RETURN TO THE REAL WORLD. YOU WILL HAVE TO CONQUER THE WHIMS OF YOUR CHOSEN ONE'S ➤ .. HOWEVER, THE LONGER YOU TAKE TO WIN HIS HEART. ➤ .. THE MORE YOUR BODY AND SOUL WILL ROT.

"What do you mean by r-rot? In what way.. will I rot?" You stammered, suffocated by the entire revelation.

It beams up so bright it strains your eyes.

➤ ..THE MOMENT IT STOPS RIGHT WHERE YOUR PSYCHE EXACTLY ARE, WHERE IT REMAINS. ➤ .. YOU WILL START TO ROT.. IN A WAY YOU FEAR THE MOST. YOUR FEARS MANIFESTING AND DEVOURING YOU ALMOST LITERALLY! YOU MAY WONDER WHY? HUMANS ROT WHEN THEIR EMOTIONS ARE AMPLIFIED INTO A VOLUME THAT RENDERED THEM UNABLE TO THINK. ➤ .. ISN'T IT FASCINATING? EACH SOUL TRULY HAS ITS UNIQUE FLAVOR, REMEMBER? AND THATS WHAT MAKES EVERY SOUL A FREAK SHOW TO WITNESS!

Sheer terror illuminated your pupils, sucking out each hope of ever returning to the real world.

You could feel it—shreds of your remaining sanity slipping away.

➤ .. THE CODES FEEDS ON HUMAN'S FRAGILITY, MIMICKING ITS COMPLEXITY ALL WHILE ABSORBING ITS HOST AS A PART OF IT. ROLLING OUT FOR THE NEXT INSTALLMENT! ➤ .. THAT IS THE FINAL PHASE. ➤ .. BY THEN, IT IS MY CHOICE WHETHER TO TURN YOU INTO ONE OF MY PAWNS, OR DISCARD YOU. I CAN EITHER TURN THE FALLEN PLAYERS INTO THE NPCS YOU SEE EVERYDAY, LIKE A DOLL! OR INTO THE COLLECTIONS OF SKIN FOR PLAYERS IN THE REAL WORLD TO PLAY. ➤ ..DO YOU GET IT NOW?

No, I don't get it.

You sat there, staring off into the space, chanting that sentence in your head all while dealing with the horrifying fact that your life truly no longer belongs to you. Paralyzed in downright fear.

Tangled in this predicament, called hell.

Not a single reaction surfaces from your face. Your head drops down like a hand stitched doll with its neck ripped in half, showcasing an image of its head supported by a snapping piece of thread. Met with the sight of your shoes, you would really never be able to return home, do you?

"Why.." You mumbled in a low voice.

"I don't get it." Getting up on your knees, filled with despair. The suffocating pain inside you contorts into madness, exploding you finally did. "W-why are you doing this to me?!"

You bawled, yelling at it in the top of your lungs, shaking with rage shook with rage as red hot tears streamed out the rims of your eyes.

"Why did you even exists?" Punching your chest, you flailed your arms around. "Why are you doing this to all of us?!"

"What did we do to you?!" A long, stretched out wail of agony poured out of your throat. "You're a monster!"

"No, am I?"

Your jaw dropped on the ground. As the popup morphs into a pink cat before your very eyes, propelling your body to stumble backwards in panic. It slowly crawled its way to you with its tail growing and stretching out like an organ, till it wraps around your neck in swift motion.

"G-get away! Get away from me!" Its death grip around your neck had you choking, suffocating, gasping for breath.

"Perhaps your lover?"

As the cat forms another new persona—your ex-boyfriend. The rims of your eyes gathered tears. You writhe in pain. legs kicking in frantic motions as those tail are now but long pair of hands suffocating you to death.

"Or your mother?"

The grip loosens, a hand caresses down your temple—wiping off the trailing sweat with such an affectionate manner. Rendering you completely paralyzed by the hands of your 'mother'.

"Or.. my dear pathetic self?"

A deafening slap echoes in the empty air. You clutched your face tight, puzzled and unstable. A mirror. The reflection of you standing before your eyes, yet with her lips twisted in a sneer. A downright replica of you. Every edge of its visage looks exactly like you.

Yet she acts nothing like you.

An orchestration of yourself plays out; spewing all your thoughts, the one you keep yourself. Uttering about how she hates herself for being so stupid. For confessing in the first place. For being such a useless person. Every single thing you kept inside you, she utters with no regards to anything.

"S-stop! Stop doing this to me!" You screamed at the top of your lungs, wailing in agony, covering your ears with your hands to block out the hysterical savageness.

Vulnerable; it was as if your skin were being ripped out, exposing your flesh and blood, everything inside you into a freak show. To see it play out like a drama in front of your eyes humiliated you.

A few beats of silence echoes.

You lifted your wavering eyelashes to see yourself looking down at you with the most menacing smirk.

"This is only a piece of what I have yet to know about you." She tilts her head playfully, approaching you in slow steps. "Remember, the longer you take... The more I get to know you, understand you, act like you, and finally be you. Now do you understand?"

Biting your lip, you force yourself to nod— praying for this nightmare to end once and for all. Your doppelganger broke into a laughter, before her eyes swell into what you can very well decipher as pity.

"Oh, don't look at me that way." She coos, lowering herself down to your fetal position. "It makes me sad, I am neither your enemy or friend. I'm just a little guide, here and there. You wish for a reality where you desire to be craved, and I gave you just that."

She knelt down, extending her palms to you. Your glossy eyes trembled, hesitating. To your surprise, she pulled you into her embrace. Caressing your hair with her palms suffocatingly tender.

"Oh dear me, I just have to take that boy's heart, make him fall for me, make him die for me.."

You barely stifled a yelp of pain when she yanked you away in great force, a gasp spills out of your lips when the same heavy rose pink tint flooded your vision.

"You have to make this man kill for you."

His feline eyes gazing into yours, deep and close—speaking right in front of your face, holding and sinking his fingers on both your arms.

The visage of Jungwon.

He leans in forward, intertwining your both of your wrists in his grip before pressing a chaste kiss on your cheek.

Your cheeks flushed involuntarily as his lips came into contact with your neck, colliding behind your earlobe occasionally—sending tingles of goosebumps across your body.

"Make him hold you close, kiss you, and vow his life to you."

This explicit touches under his visage riled up your hormones, twisting an unfamiliar knot below your belly, alarming you. With your trembling arms, you tried pushed him away with your legs yet his grip tightens on your wrists causing you to hiss in pain—a single teardrop escaping the rim of your eye, mirroring your desire to escape.

Pair of strong arms manhandling you, forcing you into a position. Your ears are deafened by this pounding heart behind your chest, as he wipes off the tear from your cheek with his thumb.

"You know, I recall the days where my previous darlings, all of had given me the best and worthy performances, yet a few stood out the most."

His pretty eyes floated off the distance, as if reminiscing the old days.

"There was this one who didn't care at all of the NPCs in this game. He goes on a kill streak, obsessed with achieving the genocide ending. He amuses me yet was so hasty—he forgot that there was a witness escaping his hands."

A spine-chilling giggle floats out of his lips as he continued. "And another one no longer has the will to live her life whatsoever, leaving herself to rot till the very end."

"Ah! I remember," He beams up, "There was this one boy who was also just like you, he broke down into shambles after knowing everything. He swore he would never hurt anyone, but he soon lose control as he slowly reverts to his younger self, by then he's nothing like he was as an adult. He was so terrified of himself that he threw himself off the school roof."

Humming a certain tune, he gripped your shoulders—lifting your jaw up with her thumb, forcing you to look into her eyes.

"That's why you have to work for it, my darling. You don't have much time, after all. Make him yours, then all of him—he shall dedicate to you."

And then your vision flashes. Dropping on your elbows when the grip holding your wrists up vanishes. With no one in this room but you. Till you lifted your head to see the same pop-up—glowing and floating with ease.

➤ .. SONARE, YOU MAY CALL ME THAT.

Sonare?

Electrocution sparks in your veins, propelling you to wince at your hand. Your back curled involuntarily, clasping your chest almost immediately as you felt something inside. Crawling and devouring.

Its starting.

It's only about time where you'll witness the manifestation of your deepest fears.

➤ .. ISN'T THIS WHAT LIFE IS? IN PURSUIT OF SOMETHING, THAT IS HOW HUMANS LIVE. OR ELSE, HOW ARE YOU ABLE TO MOVE?

Mental regression, your soul rotting, your family. Everything else is at stake.

Clenching your fists tight on the floor, you lifted your head up forcing a short laughter. Tears had dried, only to be replaced with the sticky sensation latching on your cheeks.

"I can ask for your help.. right?"

➤ .. YOU MAY CALL ME WHEN YOU'RE IN DIRE NEED OF HELP, BUT THAT DOESN'T GUARANTEE THAT I'LL ALWAYS COME TO YOUR AID. ➤ .. IT'S NO FUN WHEN PLAYERS KEEPS GETTING HINTS.. ➤ .. YOU'RE ON YOUR OWN NOW.

Death.

A loop that could never be broken. You felt as if your life are slipping away from the tips of your fingers every passing second.

Sniffing in as you wiped off your tears with your collar, you headed to the cafeteria with a heavy heart, you went on with the tray like everyone else. You lost track of time, not having any knowledge of what had happened right after you the entire sequences of events.

You're drained.

Chewing on the meat, you sat alone just as you expected. Everyone else had their own circles, and the canteen are spilling with enmeshed voices in various rhythms. You'd find it kind of comfortable to just listen to back then, even when you'd have no one to talk with, just listening still gives you a little comfort. A fantasy world on your own.

But now all of their conversations is made up of a set of codes, repeating accordingly with their task of the day.

Take a breathe, you tell yourself.

You have a long way to go.

Go back to square one. School rivals. Just how many are there? Ten. There are a total of ten rivals. You had to eliminate all of them to survive.

Before you could even reach him, you'd be dead by all these delinquents, crazy fangirls, and students digging their eyes on you. Acting on your missions possessed great risks.

Just making one single error can cost your life; getting caught by one of the students while acting on your missions means getting expelled. Student councils, teachers, and the detectives themselves. It's such a terribly long path with thorny traps and blood spilled.

Refusing to do your missions. Death.

Getting caught. Death.

Expelled. Death.

Failing to win his heart and turning him a yandere for you. He'll be the one to lead you to your graveyard.

It's either theirs, or yours. They will kill you, he will kill you, unless you kill them first.

An inevitable bloodshed..

A gasp spills out of your throat, with your line of vision dripping in avalanche of blood. No. It isn't blood. Cold red juice drips down your face, washing over your skin with it's freezing temperature making your neck shiver at the contact.

Yet the words that followed after were even more colder, laced with contempt.

"Look at our pathetic one-sided love baby girl having her meal all alone,"

The delinquents. All of them gathered in front of you. Your eyes widened in radical inches. It's impossible. They would've never known! Unless someone has been sneaking on you, telling on you with everyone else. But as far as you've remembered, you've avoided getting under someone's skin.

Was it the occult club? The science club? Or perhaps the gardening club?

But this is really fucked up. The fact that your reputation is at its lowest right now meant everyone can ridicule you, make fun of you, toss you around like a play toy.

Series of sinister giggles spilled out one after another, an orchestration of parody playing out before you. You shudder in great humiliation yet you remain still—you couldn't afford to make anymore mistakes that could lead to you possibly being expelled. This is no longer the silly game you spent on trying to beat, this is now your real world with you are living as it's player.

"It was her fault, anyways. How could she ever think she could gain Jungwon's affection with the way she looks?"

"Right! She's making herself out here as a fool!"

"Pretty, you should've rehearse your love confession a bit. No wonder, Jungwon doesn't find you at the very least interesting. It's so bland, having no flavor! And again, can't you just be grateful for his friendship?"

"Where's your self-respect?"

The vein on your necks protrudes a visible line, hands tensing as you gripped tightly on the fork. Fire pit surging up inside your lungs as you struggle to breathe, desiring to scream at their face.

Don't lose your shit. They're just but an NPCs. They're not who they are anymore. A trap is all that it is.

You've withstand this so many times before, what differences would it make now? So why, are you so fucking pissed off?

Hands trembling as you continued chewing the bread in your mouth, and taking another mouthful bite, filling your cheeks and chewing each piece excruciatingly.

Swallowing it all down your throat with agony, as you recalled Sonare's words.

➤ .. AH, MY DARLING. I JUST WONDER, THOUGH. ➤ .. HOW LONG CAN YOU KEEP THIS NAIVETY OF YOURS? ➤ .. HOW LONG CAN YOU LAST.. BEFORE YOU ACHE TO SHED, TO THIRST FOR BLOOD?

You ran off.

Not before hearing the multitude of mockeries and degradation behind you.

It happens way in a blink of an eye. You didn't know what to do, what to act, what to say—in fear of a single mistake that would cause a heavy damage on your reputation, a massive drop that would push you a little closer to death.

With wobbling legs, you fell on your knees. Palms planted firmly on the asphalt. What was that.. clawing on your soul? This growing desire to snap their necks, images of decapitated heads and limbs flashing through your head.

What you've experienced was beyond you, as if someone had their hands wrapped around your wrist, hushing into your ear to shut their mouth once and for all. You were almost on the verge of slamming that blade in their heads.

Exhaling and inhaling a huge air, it does nothing but deepens the pain in your chest, you feel like you could explode at any moment from now.

"Hey, everything's okay there?"

A hand stretches suddenly before you catching you by surprise, you look up with fleeting curiosity—the hazy image of a girl.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Your shoulders droop down as your vision clears, with the back of her hand stroking down your temples, dark silk-like hair framing her face which only accentuates her doe eyes—Kim Minji.

"You're sweating," Pure concern etched on her features, Minji turned behind her—talking with someone. "She's so pale.. Guys, I think we have to get her to the infirmary room."

Giving a clearer view, your eyes fell on two boys; appearing as a slick black-haired boy, the tag name on his uniform written Jake Sim.

But a particular someone capture your heavy lids—standing next to him; the bane of your existence. Those eyes you had to make yours—to harbor affections, obsessions, and undying fervor; Yang Jungwon.

But how? In his eyes, you're nothing but a girl who had confessed to him, yet rejected. Why the fuck do you have to relive the same humiliation twice?

"Oh, isn't she?—" Jake halted his steps, seemingly surprised after kneeling to take a better look at you. His head turning behind him, locking eyes with Jungwon, where the boy in return has a disinterested look but cleared his throat, approaching closer.

"We have to hurry, she doesn't look too well." Jungwon says, patting Jake's back. "You go ahead, and carry her."

"Oh," Jake complied, turning his attention back to you with the same concern as Minji's in his eyes—walking to your side as he loops his arm around your back, placing other hand under your leg—lifting you up with ease.

With Jungwon following behind, hands in his pockets. Minji says with concern lace in her voice, stroking your cheek. "Hurry, Jake."

The boy in question huffs, where the heavy weight in your head pushes your lids down, dropping your head on his shoulder. The last thing you see was pitch black darkness on the other side of the tunnel, multiple giant hands stretching out to pull you inside it.

Forcing you out of your will, dragging you across the puddled asphalt. You cried out for help, your pleas echoing relentlessly. On the end of the tunnel, you could see hope illustrated in the brightest color of white.

You dragged yourself, crawling on your knees until you reached the end.

The landscape of white snows greeted your eyes. It was cold, freezing your bare skin and neck. You let your face be washed over by the breeze, closing your eyes to heighten its sensation. You're in this place again. This fucked up place.

Two silhouettes fading in the distance, stepping into a cabin caught your attention. Freezing in hell, you'd think the imagery of that underworld would be like how it was depicted in books and so. However here, you feel wholly empty, gnawing at that organ behind your ribcage.

You let your eyes remain on the cabin, recalling what your mother says, that girls shouldn't confess first yet you rejected the very idea; that regardless of gender, everyone should be able to confess their love. You didn't heed her advices, fulfilling your own set of principles, and thus you are left with more questions than answers if the boy ever love you even.

Mother was right, not everyone would reciprocate that love with sincerity and genuineness but instead manipulate it into their own benefit.

You're left behind, asking why? You felt her palms rubbed the back of your head, whispering another waves of words into your ears.

"You should never perceive yourself as a victim."

Don't complain. Once you lament your entire life only on that question, that's where hell breaks loose. Because a victim will only see themselves as one, and no one else.

A frog that frustrates over who threw the stone, lamenting over the question;

.. Why me?

But in your case, you'd like to turn this sentence into,

.. Why not me?

Why didn't he choose me in the end? Why did he choose other over me? Those questions lingered in your head.

All your life, you controlled yourself to a degree even when someone stomped on you. You bear it all, withstand it.

But it wasn't because you were kind. You don't see yourself as one.

Mother never says that, she never tells you to be evil either. Too much on either side will after all, spell your end. Your co-workers might have perceive you in the role of a victim, expressing their concerns and all that. But you don't see why, you don't see yourself as pathetic like everyone does. Even when they say you're pitiful. You don't.

You do not see yourself as pathetic, you were doing it because you just had to. You'd had to be part of this society, to survive.

Why should you live according to others' point view of life? How you view it is up to you. Mother was always right.

She was always right, that you've wanted to give her a call and cry it all out on her shoulder. But you knew that you won't be able to do so, as you've failed her not once but twice. Yet you can't help but mumble to yourself, crying out a helpless whisper.

"Mom, I'm dying."

Your eyes shot wide open.

Four white walls.

Your pupils darted wildly around you before letting out a dejected sigh after recalling what happened before you passed out. With heavy lids, you looked over to your side where you notice Minji sleeping on the edge of the bed.

You recalled the words of your boss upon seeing her.

Back then, even though, you ache to shove something into that bastard's mouth, and perhaps suffocate him to death, you persisted—digging your nails on the back of your hand, leaving a crescent marks on it that lasted for awhile. Because he was right, you'd be a hassle to look at.

Minji was the complete opposite. A visage that exudes a classic beauty, one that enthralls everyone close to her. You haven't know much about her yet, but you could get why Jungwon likes her back.

You held the need to scoff, it's just like how it was back then.

In this world, we are all, after all—easily replaceable.

Everyone was nowhere but her, however you could see the nurse in the other room adjacent to this one. Yet not a trace of Jake including Jungwon himself are at sight. Almost close, yet he slips away from your fingers once more. Upon realizing the cold damp cloth on your forehead, you're left with the question of why she had to go this far.

It's like a game of fate, though.

You didn't expect it would be this easy to get close to her. Almost tempting that your thoughts are almost morphing into ones you despise. With your eyes catching the sight of the syringe on the table across from you, you're compelled to take it and dig it inside her neck. It brought back a wave of nostalgia, a very grim one into your eyes.

You shook your head, praying for these thoughts to go away.

The girl shifted in his movements, raising her eyelids open which met yours much to your surprise. Noticing you're awake, her eyes lit up—pushing herself upright swiftly but now with concern swimming in her pupils as she asks.

"You're awake! Are you feeling okay now?"

Now that she was closer unlike the first time in the courtyard, her voice feels more clearer, to your surprise—it was kind of deep and husky. Like the ebbs and flows of the waves washing over the shore—it was pleasant to the ears.

Perhaps, a distinctive voice that you would probably remember for some time. Was she a singer in her real life? A small sentiment grow within your heart at the fact that she's very much gone already, and that whatever question you may have about what she's like, or regarding to her real life should be discarded as it won't do you any favor.

Vapid shells that once sang the hymns of the oceans. Now nothing but just a relentless roaring of the abyss. You wondered if they ever call for help when the life vanishes out of their eyes?

Licking your dry lips, you tried to push yourself up. Minji placed her palms on your back, assisting you as you sat up. "Slow down."

"You're?" Throat hoarse, you voiced out that question—feigning ignorance. You don't know what to do yet, but you can't let this chance go to waste.

"Minji," Her lips pursed up in a tender smile, "Kim Minji."

"Thanks, Minji." Placing your hand on hers, "For helping me just now."

"You don't need to, plus I wasn't the only one." Minji gestures her thumb behind her, keeping the sweet smile on her lips. "The other guys helped too, but they left awhile ago since your shirt was quite drenched."

"Oh," It was only now that you've realize your shirt was taken off, leaving you in your singlet where the former can be seen hanging on the clothing rack. "Thanks again, sorry for troubling you so much."

Shaking her head profusely, Minji replies with a small pout. "Don't say that, we are suppose to help each other when we're in need, no?"

'Help each other'. It might've done some wonders to your heart if not for the fact that this is not reality. That sentence doesn't sit too well with you in this very game. It feels off, somehow. Still, you nodded your head showing appreciation for her help.

There's a trace of hesitation swimming in her eyes, "You don't look like you were sweating that much though, did something happen?"

The sequences back in the canteen flashes in your mind, reminding you of how you were so close to death. Looking down at your legs covered by the sheets, you mustered the best small smile you can.

"I suppose I have annoyed someone."

"Did you beat up their ass?" Her question caught you off guard, but even more so with her eyes filled with anticipation as she leans closer to you. You were stammering, unsure of what to say until she notices her close proximity—letting out a nervous chuckle as she apologize meekly. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine, I'm used to it."

With a trace of what you can recognize as sympathy, swirls in her eyes. She squeezes your hand, lending you warmth.

"You've been sleeping for two hours now."

"I d-did?" Your eyes widened in shock, realizing that you must've skipped the second period which would lower your reputation meter once again. Grimacing as you cupped your forehead, "Please don't tell me you've skipped your class, too?'

"To be honest, yeah.." Minji pursed up a shy smile, "I'm just worried, you really seem like you're not in a good condition.."

You raise a brow at what she could possibly be implying at, until she finished her sentence.

"You kept saying.. that you're definitely dying." She rested her palms on yours, "Its really concerning so I can't help it but stay here with you. Whatever you're thinking about, you're not alone, okay?"

Ah. Was she thinking that you're trying to commit suicide?

In your peripherals, you could see the nurse approaching with a bottle of pills and a glass of water in her hands. "Migraines,"

As she lends you the glass and the pill, it left you downright baffled. Almost scoffing audibly at the very idea of getting fake pills. What this would do to you even?

"Take it easy, by the way. You've got to look after your health, otherwise it would only worsen and you might have to take a leave for a day or two."

No.

There was no way you could skip school—especially more than two days. Especially not after knowing all of the things that could and would happen once you're away. Not wasting any time, you quickly gulped down the pill down your throat—even when you know that it won't help that much—from this pernicious effects of your pending death.

A silhouette catches your peripherals, lips falling apart when he appears again. Yet as your heart involuntarily calls out for him, the name that floats out of his tongue is her name.

"Minji,"

"Wonnie," That nickname catches you by surprise, seeing the obvious effect on Jungwon's visage—dusting his cheeks with pink. "You're back!"

A reaction that sends a pang into your heart. It only amplified by the way his fingers tucked her hairlocks behind her ear—running his fingers down along her hair with such tenderness. The way his eyes are locked into Minji's—listening to her attentively as she talks—like every word that she utters matters more to him more than anything.

Looking away, you reminded yourself that you aren't in love with him. It's this game's mechanics convincing you that you are. So get yourself back in your senses.

"I see," As he lifted his eyes away from Minji to you, "Are you okay now?" His face turns to blank with dull eyes, despite his question carrying a sense of concern, you could sense it—this colossal wall he raises up around you, as if to shield you away from him.

A sheer gap of how he treats you and Minji is evident. Slammed at your face, even. Its only the first day yet somehow it looks like he's too far in deep.

Was Sonare lying to you again?

Whatever it may be. You're screwed. It won't be long till those eyes of his morph into sinister ones, into a fatal poison that would cost your life.

Forcing the best genuine smile you could muster, casting it on Minji.

"Thanks to Minji, yes."

"Good to hear."

He replies nonchalantly before turning his attention back to his girlfriend, his sugary demeanor surfacing back up. "You haven't eaten yet, so I've grabbed you something to eat from the cafeteria."

"You got me my favorite!" Minji beams up, jaw dropping slightly at the plastic wrapped sandwich and an orange juice box. "Thank you Wonnie."

She grabbed his hand, expressing appreciation to him with her eyes but then confusion surfaces from her visage. With her brows knitted together, she tilted her head a bit further to look behind Jungwon. "Is that all?"

"Yeah?"

"But," She turns to look at you, and then at Jungwon. "You didn't got her one?"

"Oh, sorry. I forgot." Jungwon rub his nap, as he says nonchalantly. "To be fair, that was the last one."

Lie. That's a lie.

You knew that wasn't the truth.

Despite knowing from his profile that Jungwon isn't a liar, nor does he utter white lies for the sake of others. You've remembered another thing once you scrolled down to the section of how he's like once he turns into a yandere; that once he starts falling for the player, he will begin to lie even if its the thing he had swore to never do in the first place.

You could see it. He just doesn't see the reason why he should get another one because you are not that even important to him, so why should he care about your wellbeing? As difficult as it was to swallow it down your throat, this is only the beginning. He'd treat you far more worse with each of his heart slowly dedicating itself to this girl in front of you.

"We'll share then," Minji says, as she breaks the sandwich in half—surprising you and Jungwon. "Here!"

Shaking your head, "H-hey, you don't have to, I'm not that hungry."

"You got to eat," She insisted, pushing the half of the bun on your hand. "You've skipped over lunch too, right?"

"No, I did! I've eaten."

That came out louder than you expected it to as the girl jolted in response but emitted a slight laughter shortly after. She looks back and forth at the foods on her hands, before lifting the other hand with the orange juice box on it.

"Then.. Maybe a drink would do?" Minji asks you with a convincing smile before tilting her head up to Jungwon, seemingly asking for permission. "I'm not that thirsty, anyways."

Jungwon just patted her hair, nodding in silence.

Acknowledging that she probably won't give up, you accepted it—punching the straw in the box, taking a sip from it as you observed the two getting in lost in their own world once more, like how Minji shyly commented how the sandwich tastes a lot more better when Jungwon bought it—the need to grimace amplifies, as your head are shrouded with numerous how's.

Of how to rip them apart from each other.

The match-making method would no longer work in this situation. There was no way you will be able to rip them both off each other without resorting to the very method you've been trying to avoid.

She may no longer have her consciousness intact anymore, but even the image of yourself stabbing her to death repulsed you.

➤ .. TO WIN OVER HIS HEART, TO MAKE HIM YOURS—YOU MUST LOSE YOURSELF, FIGURATIVELY OF COURSE! ➤ .. UNLESS IF YOU FAIL IN DOING SO, YOU'LL PERISH IN WAYS YOU'D NEVER IMAGINE.

You pushed away Sonare's words out of your head with a grimace.

You didn't want to keep imagining it you really don't. However, just how long are you going to keep this up? The fact that you've still yet to decide of what is the best way to get rid of her?

You still have a chance, as Jungwon hasn't turn into a yandere yet.. But it won't be long till he falls deeper for his now-girlfriend, Minji.

"Hold on, Heeseung's calling." Jungwon showed the flip phone's screen to Minji before going outside, which she nodded in return.

You didn't miss how he stroke his fingers on Minji's hair before leaving, a gesture that propels a shy smile in the girl's lips.

It hasn't been a day of them being lovers yet, but why the fuck is he so lovestruck? It only does nothing but distress you further. Plus, its weird.. of how Minji seems to have her guard down before you as if she doesn't know anything about it.

Her amiable acts towards you led you to believe that she was unaware of the events between you and Jungwon. He might've kept it from her, or just didn't see it important enough to tell her. All the way more convincing you that you are nothing to him.

You had to make something, do something in some way.

"Which club are you from, by the way?" You asked, partly of genuine curiosity, and partly because you have to dig in more details of her.

"Oh, I'm haven't join one yet.. But I got my eye on one or two clubs."

"What are they, then?"

"Drama, or the light music club." She replied, her fingers fiddling the hem of her sleeves. "But I'm leaning towards the latter.. because singing has always been my favorite thing to do."

This won't be easy, you thought to yourself.

"That's cool!" Feigning support, "You really do look like one, you know, like a singer."

You captured how her eyes lit up with stars. "You really think so?"

Nodding with no trace of hesitation, she lets out a small chuckle, as if she was suspense with disbelief.

"That's- I just didn't think that anyone would notice," Minji says with her eyes gazing out the window, but as you trace at where she was looking at, her eyes seems to look further than you can reach. "I mean, no has ever said that in this place."

"No one has ever said so?"

"Yeah, you're the first one." She says with a smile you somehow feel genuine, "You got a really good eye, I have to say."

Minji asks back with her attention undivided, leaning forward—seemingly curious as well. "What about you? Are you planning to join one of the clubs here as well?"

To be fair, you haven't join any clubs in this particular server you were playing in. You had some plans to get in the art club or martial club sometime ago, but had long forgotten about it. But now, it seems like the art club is your best bet, for now, that is.

"I was thinking, Ar—" Your words were punctuated by the distant chatters outside this room. Jungwon's voice blending with another, which you can't seem to decipher. But it grew clearer as they approached closer.

Jungwon appeared, with a particular someone following behind him.

"Jesus, I thought someone got hurt when you said you were by the infirmary room." The boy rolled his eyes as he shuts his flip phone. "Hey Minji, and.."

His eyes fell on you.

"Who's this?"

Purple hair framing his face, bouncing on his eyelashes—almost obscuring his doe eyes. The eldest among the yanderes, and the leader of the gaming club—Lee Heeseung. If there was one thing most memorable about him in his profile, is that he has a big obsession with collecting keyboards. Not often spotted around his members as he spent afterhours in the gaming club, playing games all day.

You're surprised that he doesn't look at all malnourished, or close to the stereotypical image of a gamer; disheveled hair, dark eyebags, and a gloomy atmosphere but rather a neat, and well-combed hair, paired with a healthy skin tone. Not what you would expect from someone who is cramped all day in a dimly-lit room.

You'd often wonder how the heck the players who chose him would be able to get him out of his inner world of games and keyboards.

Before Minji could answer, Jungwon did.

"Minji was the one who found her almost passed out behind the academy, so we brought her here."

With a complete air of nonchalance, that is. Since awhile ago, you notice how Jungwon has never laid his eyes on you for more than three seconds, his eyes was everywhere but you.

"So?"

"So what?" Heeseung asked with evident confusion.

"I thought you wanted to say something on the way here?"

"Why am I here again? Ah yes, the club." Heeseung mumbling to himself, before letting out a rather loud 'tsk'.

"What's up with the club?"

"You know what I'm talking about," Heeseung ruffled his hair, pushing his tongue in his cheek. "No, seriously, not one but two of the club members quitted. Like why the fuck didn't they inform me way back then? Such a bummer."

"What are you suppose to do even there?" Minji suddenly asks.

Heeseung turns to look at her, "Gaming?"

"Just gaming?"

"Yeah, what else are you suppose to do then?"

"I seriously don't get why the Gaming Club was approved in the first place." Minji shrugs, in which you shared the same thought as well. She has a point, though.

Back in the real world, you never found the gaming club useful at all. Its benefits where you could do missions through playing games to raise your stats kind of wasted your time.

"Well, you'd probably don't get it." Heeseung rolled his eyes, seemingly finding it useless to banter with her before turning to the boy in front of him. "Anyways, Jake has been considering to quit the drama club. What say you, Jungwon?"

"Me?" Jungwon points at himself, in which the former nodded in response. "Who says I'm leaving my club?"

"Dude, just quit the martial arts club." Heeseung says, with an amused expression trying to stifle a chuckle. "It's not like we have any serial killers around here with their ass for you to kick?"

Somehow, you found yourself stiffening at Heeseung's words.

"I'm in dire need for club members now, Yang."

"Ask others, then?" Jungwon said, "You know how many students wants to join your club, especially the girls."

"No, not the girls, please." Grimacing, Heeseung shook his head. "I don't have anything against girls but the thing is they don't have the same level of passion for gaming," Pointing his index finger on the ground as he continues speaking, "Not in this academy, okay?"

"The boys?"

"Sunghoon and Jay isn't budging the fuck from their recipes, while Sunoo had just joined the occult club a month ago, and Ni-ki?" Heeseung shook his head, facepalming himself. "That kid has no sense of either punctuality or responsibility."

He pauses his words in-between, though—as if a light bulb lighted up in his head.

"Wait, if I could get Jake. Perhaps, Ni-ki would follow along."

"Go for it, then."

A sigh spills out of Heeseung's lips. "The calculation I made for this is undoubtedly fairly low, unfortunately. So please,"

Jungwon only shrugs in return, seemingly putting a thought about it.

"You're my only hope now aside from Jake, or else the faculty room's gonna shut my club down, dude." Desperation evident in Heeseung's voice as he kneels down much to you all's surprise. With Jungwon having to force him to stand up but the latter only pressed on, insisting with no hint of giving up at all.

"Oh god, Heeseung." Minji cups her forehead at the sight playing out in front of her before asking you with her lips pursed up in a smile "Which club was it again, the one you wanted to join?"

"Art club."

Hearing your answer, Minji turns to look at the boy kneeling on the floor. "Guess there's no hope for you then."

Heeseung groaned, mumbling to himself how he wasted his energy going all the way down here.

"By the way, Minji. Aren't you suppose to look for the light club's members now?" Jungwon asks, a question directed to Minji.

"Oh my god!" The girl in question abruptly stands, the chair creaking at the same time. "You're right! I totally forgot about it!"

"I'll accompany you there," Jungwon suggested, stretching his hands out to her. You avoid the image of their hands intertwining, looking the other way.

"(Name), you'll be fine here, right?" Minji asks with enthusiasm, in which you nodded in return, assuring her that its okay. "I'll be back later!"

And so you observed as the two left, with Heeseung following behind them but with a pair of eyes you could see fleeting in the distance.

Footsteps and chatters fading in the distance. You watched the faint marmalade sky, taking a deep sigh as you closed your eyes, rummaging your head of what to do.

You opened your eyes to see that he hasn't left yet.

"Why are you still—"

"Ah, so you're (Name)?" Heeseung pulls away after he read your tag name, standing still all while humming a certain tune, quite familiar to your ears but you can't pinpoint where you did it hear from. "You play games?"

"No." You replied swiftly.

Judging by his first question, it was better if you shut it down fast as you don't have any intention in joining the gaming club, since it doesn't have any advantages or benefits like other clubs does. To summarize it, its a completely useless club.

Tilting his head, you feel the curiosity enveloped in his eyes. "What do you mean by 'no'?"

You raise one brow, confused as to what he was implying at.

"Your eyes," Chuckling, he gestures his fingers over his eyes, "They look like they hurt a lot, that means you must have been playing a whole lot of games."

"If you're planning to ask me to join your club, then sorry, I lose all the time."

"Pity, why don't you join my club then?" He chimes in, insisting with chins buried on his palms. "Perhaps under my tutelage, you'll get really, really good at gaming."

"I don't really care in improving my gaming." You rebutted almost nonchalantly, leaning your head on the pillow as you shut your eyes tight.

"Ugh, so close." Heeseung whines, however seemingly insistent at the topic. "Then why do you play games in the first place?"

"What else do you think?" You looked into his eyes, trying to show him that you're bored.

A few beats of silence.

"I don't think so," Heeseung says, "You don't like someone who would play for pastime."

"What makes you think so?"

"Like I said, your eyes." Heeseung says, "It hurts right?"

You played games for what really?

A game where you can freely act on your desires without inflicting real pain on real people, a fantasy world where you shouldn't cross the line.

A line you wanted someone else to cross for you instead.

You wanted someone to be selfish for you for once. Someone who won't have their love wavers with one look on others. Someone who wouldn't say.. that it wasn't true love.

It just so happens that you found this game. You ended up finding solace in these so-called yanderes where they will only have their eyes on you, where their top priority is the best interest of your heart, an affection that exceeds all boundaries and limits, vowing loyalty that never fleets till the end of their life.

It's hilarious how this beings are the twisted form of that sentence your mother utters; instead of manipulating you and using you like a play toy, it was instead used in a way to make you theirs. You ache for that kind of love. It may be all toxic, yet your body aches to be embraced. You had no hope for these obsession to exist in the real world.

Hence why you could only let out your frustrations and lamentation in this game. It's all about you, only you. That's what you love about it. A virtual world where you can unleash your pain, act on your wildest desires, and appease your hurting soul.

Thoughts come and go. But some just persists, latching in the depths of your soul like a pest, therefore your brain does what its best at—to protect you; keep it, hide it like your dirty laundry, and kicking it off in the deepest and darkest corner.

There was no need to hurt someone else just because you had been hurt yourself. You vowed that to yourself.

However you can't deny that this mind of yours, this soul of yours will never be the same. It's tainted. Smudged. Scarred. You're beyond saving, no matter how you try. You can hide it all you want, yet its there, creeping back up when you're presented with that same image of a dirty laundry.

The very same dirty laundry this game is preying on, urging you to nurture it, to let go of your self. To let yourself snap. To make you go back on your own words. A freak show in its eyes.

Oh, how the tables had turned.

"Not all people play games to get better or become pro at it like you do."

Heeseung hums in response, leaning against the edge of the window. "What type of games do you like?"

"Why do you care?"

"Hey," He scoffed, "So is it classified as weird to ask harmless questions now?"

You rolled your eyes, "It's a game where you have to survive."

"Bingo, I'm a pro at surviving, you see." Heeseung throws you a wink, "I can give you tips on how to win if you let me."

"Unfortunately for you," You covered your eyes with your forearm, giving a signal that he should just leave already. "It's a fucked up game, and I don't like playing games anymore anyways."

"I know that words," The boy snickers, approaching you with growing interest laced in his voice. "Tell me, what is this game that's making you act up like this?"

"It's none of your business."

"It is, gaming is my forte."

"Your forte in gaming won't save you from this one."

"What makes you think I can't?" You could feel his silhouette near the edge of the bed, casting a shadow on you. "All the games I've played, I've won."

No, you've lose. Despite being unsure of whether the yanderes themselves are once real people. You couldn't help but be affected by his words. Scoffing at the irony at the words leaving his mouth, you pulled your forearm from your eyes—pushing yourself to sit upright.

Meeting his eyes, you said. "Haven't you wonder that it must be that you've never found a game that will make you lose, yet?"

"That's why I have to play it, we'll know if we never try." He pressed on, keeping the smirk on his lips.

His confidence and all this words is pushing you towards the brink. Groaning, you let yourself fall back on the pillow. Shifting your body where you back faces him. "You'll definitely lose, I'm telling you."

"What? Does it take two players to win?" Tilting his head in amusement, chuckling. "If you're afraid in hindering me, then I don't suck that bad to the point to be held back by an amateur, you know."

"Not even close." Your frown deepens. "You'll only die."

"It doesn't hurt to try."

"It will hurt."

"C'mon, now."

"Don't get too ahead of yourself."

"What's a game for if not to take risks?" Heeseung smirks, "Its not too different from life, you see. There's a reason why they say life is a game." He leans closer, "We only got one chance in life."

You scoffed with your eyes closed, "I didn't know the gaming club's leader can be this persistent outside his computers, but I guess you are staying true to your role as a gamer."

"Well, you won't excel in life if you don't play your role well."

Finally losing your patience, with your eyes now shot wide open—you pushed yourself upright once more, glaring at him with spite. "Seriously? I thought you said to your friend just now that you don't want any girls to join your club because they don't have that, what was it again?"

Heeseung tilted his head sideways, waiting for you to finish your words.

"Ah, yes, passion." With a clenched jaw, and annoyance plastered on your face—you raise your index finger at him, "So why the fuck are you forcing me to join your club?"

"What? Are you offended about what I said?"

"The thing is, I don't care."

"What I said was true, though." Heeseung bends down to your eye level, "No one here has a passion for gaming like I do."

"So why—"

"But I see in it you." With your eyes locked together with his, you could the deep curiosity swirling within. A hollow well yet so strange it sucks your breath away, like a pair of hands wrapped on the back of your head. "Like I said, your eyes."

You released a shaky breath when he finally pulls away, breaking the intense prolonged eye contact.

"What say you, pretty?" His voice pulls you out, "Maybe I can help you win."

With trembling hands, you spat out. "Leave."

"Alright, alright, I'll be leaving now." Heeseung's voice fades as he heads off to the exit, but your ears caught on his halted steps. "But my offer still stands. In case you change your mind, you know where to find me."

With silence finally enveloping the room, you're left wondering what had just happened. What was that, even?

The leader of the yanderes offering you to join his club, which doesn't serve you any benefits. But as you've given it more thought, perhaps this is the golden chance to get closer to Jungwon, which is through his friends. What better way is it if not through the leader himself?

But if everything went exactly the way you want it to be, what would you do with Minji? After that seemingly genuine conversation with her, it pains your heart to even imagine anything sort that way.

It leaves you more conflicted as time passes, though, as you can't still seem to decide whether joining the gaming club is better than the art club. As tempted as you are, you cannot join the martial arts club. You are certain that it will only push Jungwon away from you.

Instead, the drama club would give you way more benefits with its costume and masks, and Jake was there too but Heeseung had mentioned that he's considering of leaving so there's that. While the cooking club has both Sunghoon and Jay—the unfortunate encounter you had with the former earlier had left you somewhat intimidated by him, and remembering Jay's profile doesn't make you feel any better as he had a shady history.

Perhaps the occult club would be a better option, and Sunoo has been an active member for two months. Despite being one of the yanderes, he's a sweet boy with a cheerful demeanor—and that makes it easier to get close to him. But the overall atmosphere of the other occult members makes you grimace, they don't seem very welcoming in your opinion.

Ruffling your hair in a mess, you clenched your jaw as you couldn't find yourself making the right decision.

What's even the right decision? You are scared. You truly are scared. It has been awhile since you've felt this much dread and fear. You've gotten really good at holding yourself back all this time, doing so well not letting your personal emotions getting the best of you.

But now you aren't so sure anymore.

You weren't sure of which are you scared of more too; was it the fact that your entire existence will be wiped out if you fail, or was it because you'll rot, or was it because everything you've tried so hard to forget will flood back once more?

Or maybe it was everything altogether.

Truth to be told, you're afraid of the you that will slowly return. That part of you that sees herself as a victim and no one else. You didn't want to go back to her anymore.

It was so far back, hazy swirls shrouding your head. You suppressed it in a way. You can no longer remember the details. Yet it was there inside your heart. That reeking dirty laundry swirling your heart, recycling it like a washing machine.

A side of you that deeply perturbs your soul.

Deep down, it also terrifies you that this game will come to understand you soon, more than you do.

A frog that frustrates over who threw the stone, lamenting over the question; "Why me?"

You do not wish to go back to the you from back then. Not anymore.

Your lips fell apart when the atmosphere against your bare skin changes, growing thick and tense as if someone had pressed the pause button. The swaying lush trees beyond the window halted, and the nurse on the other side of the room stood still. The chatters outside are replaced with a deafening silence.

A gasp spills out of your throat when the same pink display screen like Sonare appeared, however instead of texts—list of choices are presented before your eyes.

Whatever you choose to term it with, these set of choices are now the bane of your life. A heavy weight pushing you down as you read each choice, leaving you more distress than ever.

You've got to instill it in your mind that being Jungwon's girlfriend isn't enough, you have to make him die for you—where everything he sees, hear, smell, and taste is you.

If you want to live, you had to.

Make him yours, make him say yes to your love confession.

➤ .. CAN YOU CLIMB UP THE RANKS AND TAKE THE SPOT AS THE ONE AND ONLY BELOVED DARLING OF YOUR YANDERE?

© 2022-2024, pieroulette on [tumblr]. all rights reserved.

📫 qna can be delivered to my sideblog: @yuanvei !

[canmom]

Exordia - advance review

So. I finished the book!

This is not everything I will write about Exordia. That will come when the book is like, officially out, and I feel comfy spelling out the ending and quoting passages at length.

This 'advance review' is split into two parts. The first part is quite abstract, so I'll copy it here.

If Baru took an elliptical path towards its subject matter, by defamiliarising and rearranging the material of history… Exordia just gets straight in there.

How to describe Exordia? Maybe you could call it philosophy-driven science fiction, a thought experiment about ethics. Maybe you could compare it to Arrival, but shot up with black humour (it’s a book that could make me laugh and cry, sometimes at the same time) and real tragedy (at the core is the genocide of the Kurds in the late 80s, and the many betrayals and failures of American imperialism). It’s got a lot of action and military details, with a good few spies and soldiers as central characters, but broadly it’s one of the sharpest eviscerations of the US military and its role in the world I’ve encountered in Western science fiction.

The first two thirds or so lay out the driving, fascinating ‘what the hell is this thing’ mystery lined with all manner of juicy body horror and drama—yet the core high-concept premise is laid out almost immediately, you know what's at stake. The last third… escalates.

It’s full of the usual meaty Seth themes, iterating on the ideas first laid out in Baru. But it’s a distinct flavour of its own. That escalation is… well, I can’t describe in detail, not while the book isn’t even out, but it’s nuts. Not just for the scale, but for how convincingly it sells concepts that if I described them straightforwardly would sound completely ridiculous.

Equally, it’s a study of a markedly diverse group of characters thrown together from all over the world, each constructed with very evident care and nuance. It goes places that so many writers would probably feel ‘damn, that’s probably way too thorny for someone like me to write about’—and yet somehow, it manages to handle it gracefully each time. Certainly, you can perhaps inevitably tell when Seth is writing from direct experience and when they are (as they used to say back in the ’10s) Writing The Other, if only through what they assume you know and what they need to explain as much as everything—and yet there are always all these telling details (the scientist cursing out R) that make these characters come alive with convincing presence and humour.

(Of course the autistic-ass lesbians are my faves. It’s not as overtly a Lesbian Book as Baru was, but there’s a strong current of gay shit.)

A few other reviewers mention Crichton, but I haven’t read Crichton, so… I’ll have to make other comparisons. But then the thing is it’s very self-aware about existing in the fabric of science fiction. This book is set in our world, not in the near future but the recent past, in the late Obama administration. A lot of the things you might compare it to (including a couple I’ve mentioned, Arrival, Crichton) will be invoked as explicit, in-character allusions as these very sharp, funny, modern people try to make sense of their crazy situation. Sometimes it feels like Tamsyn’s use of memes as texture, but it never gets overbearing. The rhythms of Seth’s prose have been refined by Baru into a powerful suite of devices to make you cackle and go, noooo, Seetttthhhhh…

It’s a fascinating blend of hard-ish scifi, with the big ideas carried by surprisingly accurate higher-mathematical technobabble, and what you could probably best call occultism: narrative and ethics and gods and mythology. Seth always tends to deflect when praised for their ability to hop between a dozen different disciplines and pull them together into one unifying story, saying that they’re just good at looking up summaries, or that they had help from the right people. Maybe so, but it works, it passes the smell test, and Seth’s real genius is their remarkable ability to tie all these big grand ideas back into the world of character and emotion.

Since this is an advance review… I gotta be careful how much I say! Usually I assume you’ve read it if you’re going to and dive straight into the spoilers and long quotes, but here I feel like I should take a little care to avoid describing too precisely the exact beats of the story. (Rest assured I will give it the thorough treatment when it comes out in full).

But, I feel like I want to say something a little more substantial. So here’s a description of the mechanism. If all you want to know is whether you should read this book, hopefully I’ve given you plenty of reasons that the answer is god, yes, do it. If you want to know more, read on.

[greenhappyseed]

Anyone interested in some fic recs? Here’s a few ones I recently read and am enjoying — I prefer long, slow burn stories heavy on characterization/character study with adult protagonists, so that’s what’s on the list! As always, check the ratings and mind the tags; almost all are M for themes/language and a few have E chapters. This list is not exhaustive, and doesn’t include many older works, so if you have q’s or want more recs, ask away!

EraserMight

Blood Orange by @flyingjemsaucer is my happy place right now (the author has other lovely EraserMight fics too). It’s a wonderful AU with orange farmer/vendor Toshinori and teacher Aizawa. This one is interesting and different because Toshinori is un-injured and Aizawa has his post-PLF disabilities. As a bonus, this fic also has great DadMight and Dadzawa, with David Shield and married Mic/Midnight as the best friends of the lead pair.

Closed Fist and Bleeding Heart by MoonlightAndDust (who I believe also wrote this AU twitfic). Just all around good, canon universe, angsty EraserMight.

EraserMic

Nine Lives by machiroads (also check out the author’s Naruhata Noir, which ties in to Vigilantes lore). This one is set during Aizawa’s canon post-war hospital stay and features a super fun Mirko, snarky little shithead [affectionate] Shinso, and good OCs. Honestly, the EraserMic romance is just one part of the story, and that’s fine because it’s full of other things.

And When It All Goes to Hell by @purekesseltrash (also check out the author’s Rooftop Necromancy series for a band AU). Both of these fics are examples of an author’s other hobbies/interests making the fic truly special. This one is a hockey AU and it’s great! Filled with lots of cool details, it cuts between the teenage rooftop trio and the adult Hizashi and Shouta reuniting after 10+ years to figure their shit out. Knowing some hockey stuff helps, but isn’t required at all — the drama is still there! And if you want to read about 1A students in this hockey AU, then you’re in luck because the author has that too (though I have yet to read it myself only because I prefer adult protagonists).

ToshInko

Naive Melody by @aconstantstateofbladerunner. I also like many of the author’s other works including For Kurou and Dekugate, but I think this one deserves more attention for its terrifying premise and action sequences. It keeps the core “hero society” concept from MHA and then goes and does its own thing. Also, I love the Talking Heads references — you KNOW how I get with my 80s new wave music!

Bones of You by @thoughtfulraven. A really sweet story set in the canon universe, with BFFs Inko and Mitsuki and a closer look at Toshinori’s mental state.

Nighteye/All Might

Happiness by @puddinginthemix made me like Nighteye, and that’s a feat. Set in the canon universe with canon events…I’ll just say this one made me tear up a bit.

DadMight and gen All Might

Living Well by @krisingtons is super sweet. If you want some DadMight fluff, this is where you go. (I also happen to really like the Quirk Development Theories series, especially the OC that pairs off with Inko in one of the later stories because they all work together so well to support Izuku).

Learning to Trust by @siriusfan13, a longtime favorite. Not only is this a fantastic look at All Might in the year before he agreed to work at UA, but the author links some amazing DadMight/genMight fic recs at the end of (most) chapters.

Kacchako & also Hawks (WhaaAAaa????)

Toy Soldiers by AJLenoire is a bit of a wild card on this list, but it’s really well-written. The multiple subplots within the Kacchako plot and the Hawks/OC plot are all fun, and the Hawks/OC relationship is a blast.

[hayatheauthor]

A Step-by-Step Guide to Crafting a Compelling Storyline

I'll warn you, this is a long one. I kind of took 'comprehensive guide' a little too seriously.

You have a fantastic concept burning at the edges of your imagination, a collection of characters whispering their stories to you, and a world just waiting to be explored. But how do you weave all these elements into a story that grips readers and refuses to let go? The answer lies in effective plot planning.

A well-crafted plot isn't just a sequence of events; it's a carefully orchestrated symphony that takes readers on an unforgettable ride. Whether you're an experienced writer or someone trying to start their first book, here are my personal steps to crafting a compelling storyline with good plot planning. 

Step 1: Idea Generation and Conceptualization

Every great story begins with a spark of inspiration. It's that moment when an idea ignites in your mind and beckons you to explore its potential. The journey from a fleeting thought to a fully-fledged concept is an exhilarating one, and it all starts with idea generation and conceptualization.

Techniques for Idea Generation

Mind Mapping

Grab a piece of paper or use a digital tool to create a mind map. Write your central idea in the middle and branch out with related concepts, characters, themes, and settings. Mind mapping can help you visualize the connections and possibilities within your idea.

Bullet journalling

Bullet journalling is my personal favourite way to generate ideas for your WIP. Get a piece of paper or open a Word/Docs document and create three different sections: world, characters, and plot. Now add facts to each of those sections that you've come up with so far. 

You can even go a step ahead and create more detailed sections, for example, you could do this for your different characters or different places in your world. Usually, one bullet point leads to the next and once you have an idea of everything you've already established you'll naturally start adding more to it. 

Blurting

Talk to someone about your WIP, or pretend that you're talking to someone and write down everything that comes to mind. You can even use AI tools like ChatGPT and ask it to hold a conversation with you about your WIP. Tell it to ask you questions along the way, this will get the wheels turning and even help fill plot holes. 

Prompts and Challenges

Explore writing prompts or challenges to spark your creativity. Websites, books, or even random word generators can provide the nudge you need to generate fresh ideas. 

Refining Your Concept

Once you have a collection of ideas, it's time to refine and shape them into a cohesive concept.

Identify Themes

What themes or messages do you want to convey through your story? Is it a tale of redemption, the power of friendship, or the consequences of ambition? Pinpointing your core themes will guide your storytelling and also give you a clear image of the end goal. 

Find Your Angle

Consider what makes your idea unique. How can you approach a familiar concept from a fresh perspective? For example, if you're doing a classic murder mystery, what makes your book different from others? Take some time to look up titles similar to your WIP and find any repetitive themes/patterns. 

Maybe most murder mysteries end with the partner being the killer, or maybe the fantasy books written in the same mythology as your WIP's all involve a war. Knowing what is currently a popular trend in the market can give you a clear idea of where you can be different from comparable titles. This is especially important for genres like horror and romance. 

Develop a Premise

Your premise is the foundation of your story. It's the "what if?" question that drives your narrative. For instance, "What if an ordinary high school student discovers they have the ability to control time?" You need to have a solid premise before you even think about writing your story. 

Step 2: Character Development and Motivation

Characters are the beating heart of your story, and crafting them with depth and authenticity is key to creating a narrative that truly captivates. Your characters often leave more of a lasting impact on your readers than the plot itself. 

Think of it this way: a good plot will get you readers, but memorable characters will get you fans.  Some of the largest communities in the book space all run on the readers' fondness for certain characters rather than the story itself. Yes, your story and the way you tell it is very important, but nobody wants to listen to the story of a boring person. 

Bringing Characters to Life

Personal Histories

Delve into your characters' pasts. What experiences shaped them into who they are today? A traumatic childhood or a life-changing event can influence their motivations and behaviours. Maybe your antagonist has a soft spot for single parents because their mother was the only person who cared for them. Maybe the love interest seems like a sunshine character because they feel the need to always seem put-together and perfect.  

Physical Traits

This might sound obvious enough, after all a character's appearance is the first thing people think of when visualising, however, many authors fail to have a clear image of their character's physical traits which can lead to inconsistent or boring descriptions. Sure, your protagonist can have bushy hair and brown eyes, but what else? 

Think about their body type, height, fashion sense, the way they carry themselves, walk, and sound. Do they have a random mole at the back of their neck? Do they always smell like a certain perfume because their dead father gifted it to them? It's important for you to have a clear image of who you're writing.

Strengths and Flaws

Just like real people, characters have strengths and weaknesses. These traits affect their decisions and interactions. A courageous hero might also struggle with recklessness, adding complexity to their personality. It's easy to create 2D characters by using tropes or shallow descriptions 'an all-powerful villain' 'the chosen one who trained their whole life and is perfect', but 3D characters are what will actually catch your readers' attention. 

There's a reason why people often love the grey characters, the anti-heroes or anti-villains. Those who have complex personalities that make them seem human. This makes us empathise with the characters, and as a writer, it also helps you think of your characters as real people with flaws and problems. 

Motivations: The Why Behind the What

Goals and Desires

What do your characters want? Their goals drive the plot forward. A detective's desire to solve a mystery or a scientist's quest for a groundbreaking discovery sets the narrative in motion. Why is your protagonist doing what they are doing? 

You could simply give yourself a generic answer like 'they want to save the people' or 'they're a good person' but this can lead to confusion in the long run. If as the writer you yourself can't understand your character's goals it will get very hard to showcase them to your readers. Try to pick apart each character and genuinely consider why they are the way they are. 

Inner Conflicts

Characters often grapple with inner turmoil – the clash between their desires, values, and fears. This inner conflict adds layers of intrigue and reliability. Maybe your protagonist realises the antagonist's qualms with the government are actually valid and suffers from moral conflicts as they contemplate whether or not they are the 'good guy'. Inner conflict adds dimension to your characters which in turn makes it easier for your readers to empathise with them. 

Step 3: Outlining the Key Plot Points

Now that you have a clear idea of what you want to write and who you want to write it with, it's time to consider the how. You have a story, but how do you want to tell it? Break down the key plot points that shape your narrative, creating a roadmap that guides your characters through their trials and triumphs.

The Building Blocks of Plot

The Inciting Incident

The spark that ignites your story. It's the moment when your protagonist's world is disrupted, setting them on a path of change. For example, in "The Hunger Games," Katniss Everdeen's sister being chosen for the Games is the inciting incident that propels her into the arena. 

This can be a little harder to recognise in genres outside of SFF and horror. For a thriller novel, this moment could be the moment your protagonist uncovers a sketchy detail in their relative's death. In romance, it could be the moment your protagonist is introduced to the love interest.  

Turning Points

These are pivotal moments that shift the course of your narrative. They introduce new challenges, reveal secrets, or force characters to make crucial decisions. Think of them as the gears that keep your story machine turning. It's important to have some sort of turning point in your story to keep things interesting. 

Maybe the character your protagonist was suspecting throughout the first half of the book ends up having a solid alibi, or a seemingly innocent character suddenly seems sketchy. 

The Climax

The peak of tension and conflict. It's the moment your characters face their biggest challenge and must make their ultimate choice. In "The Lord of the Rings," the climactic battle at Mount Doom decides the fate of Middle-earth. In a murder mystery, this can be the moment the real killer is unveiled, or in a rom-com, it could be when the love interest moves to a new city to follow the protagonist. 

Falling Action and Resolution

As your story winds down, the falling action ties up loose ends and provides closure. Readers witness the aftermath of the climax, and the characters' arcs find resolution. This is the bit where you make sure you aren't leaving any plot holes behind. Remember that random character your protagonist suspected at the start of the book? What's their alibi, why did they suddenly get out of the picture? 

Structuring Plot Points

Introduction of Stakes

Introduce what your characters stand to gain or lose early on. This creates a sense of urgency that propels them forward. What if your protagonist fails to complete their missions? What if the detective never unveils the killer's identity? What if your protagonist doesn't win over the love interest? Show your readers the worst possible outcome early on so they know why they should be rooting for your protagonist. 

This doesn't necessarily have to be something big or scary. In Harry Potter, many of us wanted Harry to stay at Hogwarts because his life with the Dursleys was cruel and he deserved happiness. That was a small yet significant stake that made the readers empathetic and silently root for Harry. 

Foreshadowing and Setup

Plant seeds of future events throughout your story. Foreshadowing builds anticipation and adds depth, making later plot developments more satisfying. I have written a lot of blogs that either cover or briefly mention foreshadowing so I'm going to keep this point a little short. 

Foreshadowing helps your readers slowly piece everything together and have that 'I knew it!' or 'how did I not see this coming?' moment. It might also encourage them to turn back and reread your work to focus on the little hints you left throughout the book. Foreshadowing is especially important in murder mysteries. 

Step 4: Subplots and Secondary Storylines

Subplots and secondary storylines are the secret ingredients that transform a good story into an unforgettable masterpiece. They add layers of intrigue, provide character development opportunities, and keep readers eagerly turning pages. If you're confused about what is a subplot and how to create one you can visit my previous blog that focuses on this topic. 

The Role of Subplots

Enriching Character Arcs

Subplots allow secondary characters to shine. They can showcase different facets of your characters' personalities, revealing their strengths, weaknesses, growth, and relationships.

Theme Reinforcement

Subplots can explore and reinforce your story's themes from various angles. For instance, a romantic subplot can underscore the theme of love and sacrifice, in turn making your protagonist’s heroic death at the end of the novel seem more impactful. We all know Pepper’s reaction to Tony’s death in End Game made the moment more emotional. 

While creating subplots and considering which one might be relevant to your book you should think of how this subplot would impact your end goal and whether it would help emotionally connect with your readers. 

Parallel Journeys

Subplots can create parallel journeys that mirror or contrast with the main plot. This dynamic adds depth and resonance to your storytelling. Maybe the antagonist’s assistant has a similar backstory to your protagonist but while the protagonist was rescued by the government they were taken in by the antagonist. As the two geniuses face each other your protagonist can’t help but consider whether they would still be fighting for the ‘good’ side had their roles been switched.  

Balancing The Main Plot and Subplots

Interconnectedness

Subplots shouldn't feel disconnected from the main plot. Instead, they should interact and influence each other, creating a harmonious narrative flow. Your subplot could help bring a satisfactory end to a certain arc of your story, or it could sow the roots for the important climactic moment of your book. 

Pacing and Tension

Strategically introduce subplots to maintain pacing and tension. They can provide moments of relief or heightened drama, enhancing the overall reading experience.

Character Integration

Ensure that characters involved in subplots maintain relevance to the main plot. Their actions and decisions should contribute to the overarching story, even as they pursue their own paths. You should also think about whether or not your character is overshadowing the protagonist. In Harry Potter there were several characters such as Ginny, Luna and Neville with subplots and backstories of their own, however, they never overshadowed Harry’s tale. 

Step 5: Crafting Scenes and Sequences

Welcome to the realm where the magic truly comes to life – crafting scenes that resonate, captivate, and propel your story forward. Scenes are the building blocks of your narrative, each one a window into your characters' world and emotions. They help infuse your story with tension, emotion, and unforgettable moments. 

Again, this is a topic I’ve covered separately in another blog so I won’t go into too much detail here. 

Scene Structure and Elements

Objective and Conflict

Every scene should have a purpose – a clear objective that drives the characters. Introduce conflict that challenges their goals and motivations, creating tension that keeps readers engaged.

Emotion and Stakes

Characters' emotions are the heartbeats of scenes. Amplify emotions by highlighting what's at stake for the characters. Whether it's a heated argument or a tender moment, emotions draw readers in.

Sequences: Crafting a Flow

Cause and Effect

Scenes connect through cause and effect. Each scene's outcome sets the stage for the next, creating a seamless flow that propels the narrative. A character's choice in one scene can reverberate and shape subsequent events.

Rising Action

Craft sequences with escalating tension. The stakes should intensify, drawing characters deeper into challenges and dilemmas. This creates a sense of anticipation that keeps readers eagerly turning pages.

Step 6: Mapping the Journey: Creating a Visual Plot Outline

Visualising your plot, characters, and world can be very hard sometimes. Let's be honest, words can only do so much and if you don't have a clear idea of what you want to show your readers you can end up going down a path of 'telling' them everything. This can take away from the point of your story and end up boring your readers. If you find it hard to visualise where you're going with your book, here are some tips that can help. 

Visual Tools for Plot Planning

Timelines and Flowcharts

Create a timeline that outlines the sequence of major events, from inciting incidents to resolution. Flowcharts visually depict the interconnectedness of plot points, making it easy to track the evolution of your story. You can also cut out or add bits depending on how far along you are. This will also help you keep track of what scene/development should be introduced when and why. 

Index Cards or Post-Its

Write down key scenes, plot developments, and character arcs on individual index cards or sticky notes. Arrange and rearrange them on a board or wall to visualize the narrative's flow. You can also do this if you're confused about the climax of your novel by adding different ideas to the post-its and putting them alongside the rest of the book's plot to see what things would look like from a reader's perspective. 

Infusing Creativity

Playlists

Curate a playlist that captures the mood and emotions of your story. Music has the power to transport you to the heart of your narrative, helping you channel the right atmosphere while plotting. You can listen to this playlist every time you sit down to write WIP. With time, this will also help you overcome writer’s block since you can put on this playlist every time you struggle to get into the right writing mindset. 

Moodboards/Pinterest Boards

Create a visual feast by collecting images, aesthetics, and visuals that embody your story's essence. Platforms like Pinterest allow you to craft moodboards that serve as visual touchstones. I would recommend creating a separate pinboard for every character so you can get a clear idea of their vibe and appearance. You can even refer to these every time you're writing about or from the perspective of a new character. 

Step 7: Flexibility and Adaptability

As you embark on your writing journey, remember that stories have a life of their own. Embracing flexibility and adaptability is your compass through uncharted territories.

Allow characters to surprise you, let plots pivot, and themes emerge. Balancing structure with spontaneity ensures a dynamic narrative that resonates deeply. Listen to your characters, explore ethical complexities, and evolve alongside your story.

By staying open to the unexpected, you infuse your writing with authenticity and richness. Your plot outline is a guide, but your characters and themes have the power to shape the course. Embrace the unpredictable, and watch your story flourish beyond your imagination.

I hope this blog on A Step-by-Step Guide to Crafting a Compelling Storyline will help you in your writing journey. Be sure to comment any tips of your own to help your fellow authors prosper, and follow my blog for new blog updates every Monday and Thursday.  

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks? 

Are you an author looking for writing tips and tricks to better your manuscript? Or do you want to learn about how to get a literary agent, get published and properly market your book? Consider checking out the rest of Haya’s book blog where I post writing and publishing tips for authors every Monday and Thursday! And don’t forget to head over to my TikTok and Instagram profiles @hayatheauthor to learn more about my WIP and writing journey! 

[txttletale]

bundletober #11: locum tendons

i really need to stop getting these up so late. god. tomorrow ill have my bundletober done at a regular time i've just had a weird day. anyway locum tendons is a game about devouring your double by elijah raine.

what a silly pun. locum tendons. come the fuck on. no just kidding i love it obviously. it's become a running theme this month and i'll always say it again: you can instantly endear me to your game with a razor-sharp premise. i'm on board from reading this paragraph. let's see if the game can keep me.

you have two stats, as a flesh-devouring doppleganger: your Deception (ability to pretend to not be a the thing from the thing) and Consumption (your ability to make a big mouth like the thing from the thing and eat somebody). this is a bit of a missed opportunity for flavour¹ because i think these stats could have been named something a bit more evocative--'deception' and 'consumption' are just kind of bland and plainly descriptive. aw well. they're inversely proportional--each party member (or, as the game suggests, each two or three) that you eat makes you stronger but also makes the party more suspicious.

other than rolling these two stats (it's a dice pool affair, using caltrop core's d4s) the main mechanic is 'fear', a stat that tracks up every time you fail or partially succeed on a role. if 'fear' gets too high while there's more than one victim left, the game ends--either in fleeing or death. i like that little detail, just because i'm always a fan of non-death outs for characters roleplaying games ever since blades introduced the concept to me.

other than that, there's a couple random tables. disappointingly, one of them is just for stock unlikeable adventurer characters--and maybe this is just because i'm immersed in the fantasy genre and TTRPG stuff and that whole cultural millieu but it really seems like something that anyone could have come up with.

like, i've seen every one of these done a million times. since i'm way too young for the height of drizzt and his ilk i'm honestly more familiar with these subversions than the original stock fantasy adventurers they're meant to be undermining. and familiar is the last thing i want from my random tables--random tables are peak 'game as co-author' for me and i want them to push me to places i wouldn't go myself. it especially hurts locum tendons because it's a one-page RPG, so this table represent a non-insignificant chunk of space used here! i'd have much rather had a table of possible origins for our player character shapeshifting flesh devourer! once more, missed opportunity. the other table, listing locations / setups for contrived one-by-one murderathons, is quite a bit better. i really like the 'at a wedding' suggestion, makes the player characters that much more villainous and creates an opportunity for great drama.

all in all locum tendons is competently put together on the dependable bedrock of caltrop core and has a strong concept, but it just doesn't quite commit enough. it's not immersed enough in the aesthetic that the name promises, it doesn't go full john carpenter, and i think that's ultimately to its detriment. there's a lot there, but it just doesn't fit it all together within the tight constraints that one-page design puts on a game.

locum tendons is available for purchase as a digital download through itch.io ¹teehee

[theresattrpgforthat]

Ooh right — what would you recommend for roleplaying life in the Silo, from the Silo Saga by Hugh Howey?

Theme: Silo Saga

Hello friend! So I looked up Silo Saga thanks to your request, and I appreciate the further details that you provided me. I started looking for games with underground themes, and then went back and broadened my search for games in cramped spaces.

So with that premise, let's see what we have that hits the mark, or gets close to it at least.

Worlds of Legacy: Generation Ship, by UFO Press.

You’re trapped inside the heart of a decaying generation ship drifting between the stars. How will you survive and find a new home?

Your families woke up from cryostasis halfway through a thousand year journey. Now you must find a way to live on a ship that wasn’t intended to support long-term habitation, keep it running, and try to make sure future generations reach the promised land at the end of your journey.

You’ll need the core rulebook of Legacy: Life Among the Ruins in order to play this game, but it definitely fits the bill. Each player controls a Family with a specific role on the ship, as well as a character who has a unique narrative role within that family. Legacy games like to zoom out and look at long-term changes, so you are likely going to watch your families change according to the needs of the ship as time passes - and who knows, you might even get to your final destination as part of your end-game.

Depths Below, by Josh Domanski.

The surface of the Earth is barren. Left uninhabitable by countless environmental disasters. What remains of humanity has moved into underwater cities, the last of which is known as Terminus. 

Take the role of humanity's last hope, doing what's necessary to survive while the elite cower in wait for the inevitable end.  Depths Below is a complete RPG by Josh Domanski. It uses and expands upon the rules and systems developed for 24XX by Jason Tocci.

I think there are some ties to Silo that you might be able to see in Depths Below, even if the setting is a little bit different. The underwater city of Terminus is just as fraught and dystopian as the underground Silo, with political factions and plenty of hierarchies. The world above the waves is much more a mystery than it is in Silo, and there’s not much in the game that encourages you to seek out the surface - which means you are well and truly trapped.

When it comes to how to play the game, you’ll want a number of different polyhedral dice, as the size of the dice rolled depends on your skill level. Rolling a 5 or higher is a success, and you can use your gear to mitigate harm or give you the ability to do something. The actual rules of play only fill about one page of this game, but there’s an extra 12 pages of lore, character options, beasts to fight, and roll tables for the GM!

Underground, by emmy.

UNDERGROUND is an 8 page gm-less tabletop roleplaying game, where you take on the roles of post-apocalyptic factions living within the remnants of a metro system.

The details of the Cataclysm that brought you down here are long forgotten. You now have the chance to forge your own world.

Underground has a similar premise to the Silo saga in that you are groups of people living underground, in a post-apocalypse. However, the apocalypse looks much more recent, and as the players are all representing different factions, I’m not sure if there’s the same sort of hierarchical structure as seen with the different factions of the Silo - it might be if everyone agrees to represent it that way!

The biggest difference is the structure of these underground settlements - they’re not purposefully built to house people, they’re the old metro system that just happened to be there. You use d6’s to help construct the metro map, including spaces that may have not been fully explored yet. The biggest draw of this game is the exploration, so if you want to spend some time just building your own (altered) version of an underground dystopia, this might be the game for you.

Apocalypse World, by Meguey & Vincent Baker.

Something's wrong with the world and I don't know what it is. It used to be better, of course it did. In the golden age of legend, when there was enough to eat and enough hope, when there was one nation under god and people could lift their eyes and see beyond the horizon, beyond the day. Children were born happy and grew up rich.

Now that's not what we've got. Now we've got this. One of the classic post-apocalyptic games in the scene, Apocalypse World might be able to give you what you’re looking for, if you’re willing to establish some serious world-building. This game has been played in all sorts of apocalypses, and the truths of each one is dependant on what the game group is looking for, as well as which playbooks you choose to use.

Pick up a Hardholder or Brainer if you want someone who knows all too much and is trying to hide that information or control it. Play an Angel if you want to be needed. Play a savvyhead if you want to know how things work, and pick up a Hocus if you want to lead a faction of this settlement to a rebellion. You might want to cut out Choppers and Drivers though - underground, there’s not as much room for engines or gangs of roving bikers.

Neon Black, by NotWriting.

Neon Black is a role-playing game about a community of poor people fighting back against tyrannical corporations and the indifference of the rich, as well as surviving in a dystopian city state. It’s like real life, but in this world you can kill the CEO’s, rob banks to pay rent, and help your friends do the same. You'll help your community, go on dangerous heists, explore artificial realities, and encounter friendly and nefarious machines. We play to find out if the community can survive amidst warring corporations, an unforgiving climate, and the negligence of the extravagantly wealthy.

When putting together your crew in Neon Black, you need to decide which community you live in, and both the 55 (an apartment complex) and the Chariot (an abandoned space station) are possible candidates for communities with no other place to go. The biggest theme that resonates is the mega-corporations that have put you there in the first place.

Neon Black is a Forged in the Dark game, and it’s exceptionally good for playing a long-term faction game. There will be plenty of groups with interests that align or oppose yours, and you’ll be doing missions to help the people you care about while trying to take down those who don’t care about you. The biggest difference between this game and the Silo setting is the introduction of cyberware. Setting up the game is a bit of work, but I think it has legs!

For Similar Vibes…

White Sands, by Critical kit, has a dystopian feeling and the desire for rebellion, but on an Earth where clean air now has a price tag.

Lost Eons, by David Blandy, is for folks who want to explore the world after they breach their underground Havens, a world completely mutated and changed into a solar punk, sci-fantasy future.

2XXX: Promised Land, by Quasinfinity Games, looks like it starts on a spaceship, and with the horror undertones it presents, I'm skeptical about your cultists ever reaching the planet they're headed for.

My Post-Apocalyptic Community Rec List (has some overlap).

[walking-tornado]

Chobits is an asexual fantasy and yall feel weird because a show has never catered so hardcore to demiromantic asexuals until Chobits.

I highly recommend reading it to watching the anime. The anime deviates quite a bit from the manga and cuts a lot of important details from the last arc. Spoilers ahead for the end of the show, i will get into basically everything soooo be warned.

Feel free to fight me in the comments, i love discussions :>

At its core Chobits is a romance between a human cishet man- Hideki- and a female asexual Robot/Persocom -Chi-. Its a slow burn romance, where Hideki is given time to observe the complex relationships around him, before coming to a decision, while Chi has more of an introspective journey of finding out what she wants outside of her programming.

Chobits explores quite a number of themes and ideas about romance and the nature of sapience:

The most glaring is the idea of Human/Persocom relationships and romances. Is a Persocom with complex enough programing sapient? Is it enough that the human observer believes their Persocom is sentient for it to be? When a Persocom consents, does it really?

We see people become obsessed with their Persocom who can do anything ,without question, to the point where they neglect their spouses. At the same time we see people who are wholeheartedly in love with their Persocom, and who endure the societal pressure to seek human companionship. We see characters who create a Persocom duplicate of their deceased loved one, and their emotional struggle.

We are shown the effects of the sociatal pressure on women to rise up to the beauty and "perfection " standards that these dolls bring to the table.

Okay okay buuuut wait WalkingTornado, isnt this that one anime where her power button is down THERE?!?!

Yes, thats the one. Its treated as a comedic hook in the first chapter because Hideki has zero experience and background information and we see the world though his extremely naive eyes.

After learning from those around him about the nature of a romantic relationship with a Persocom, he is hit with the magnitude of that perticular design choice. Chi has no innate desire for sex, and should she have sex, her fundamental personality will be deleted and changed forever.

And Hideki, accepts to enter a purely romantic relationship with Chi, and consents to not have sex with her ever, despite being allosexual.

He doesnt ask if they can move/remove the button, he doesnt ask if he can possibly have oral, he doesnt ask if he can date someone on the side, he doesnt ask her to sacrifice her being for his sexual benefit.

He accepts her as she is and respects the now completely asexual nature of their relationship.

Now onto the negatives: The asexual being a robot is nothing new, but is it problematic? Maybe, but considering that so much media has trouble accepting an Asexual as not a broken/ill/hasnt met the right person/traumatised/low libido/nun who has to get over themselves and just have sex like the rest of us, Chobits with it unusual premise, does a good job of portraying an asexual romantic relationship using an unconventional premise.

I pray for a future, where asexual representation in media gets to a point where we can look back and snicker that hehe they thought we were all robots. But till then, i will defend Chobits as my go to Asexual media to my dying day.

[weaselandfriends]

The Making Of: Cleveland Quixotic

I. Context

After I finished Chicago in 2019, a powerful and persistent fatigue gripped me: the fabled "burnout." The next two years would be the least productive of my literate life. As one day ebbed into the next, I wondered if I would ever be able to write again. I thought of Andrew Hussie, who, after years of feverish activity on Homestuck, seemed now capable of only short spurts of creation, heavily assisted by amanuenses.

It wasn't an issue of knowing what to write. I had been developing the idea for Cockatiel x Chameleon since 2015. I knew its plot, characters, scenes, themes. But when I tried to manifest it into reality I felt drained. What I managed to scrawl was junk, far below my standards. Goaded by a lurking terror of infinite lassitude, I forced myself to blurt 60,000 words of an initial draft; loathing it, I scrapped it entirely.

That was when I got the idea to write a "fun" story.

My vision for Cockatiel x Chameleon was technically complex and emotionally demanding. Maybe something simpler, a straightforward adventure, would be a stepping stone to recovery. I thought back to Fargo, which I had written (unlike most of my works) with relative ease and minimal forethought. How could I emulate that experience? What made Fargo so easy compared to Chicago and Cockatiel x Chameleon?

After reflection, I concluded that Fargo was, at its core, a revenge story. Revenge stories are older than dinosaur dirt. They are fundamental to human experience, easily understood, all structure inherent in their premise. The hero, wronged, seeks revenge on the villain. From that sentence alone you understand the protagonist's motivation and the plot's direction: trending inexorably toward final confrontation. With such a powerful core, it'd been easy to add details and complications to Fargo as they popped into my head, without warping the story's innate trajectory.

If I wanted another "easy" writing experience, I decided, I needed a similar type of story. Something with a clear premise that removes the burden of planning. A "template plot," where beginning/middle/end is fundamentally present and the writer merely adds their own spin. It took little time to think of such a story type. After all, it had been ubiquitous in Japanese media for the past decade. Not only was it popular with readers, it was appealing to amateur authors; many of its biggest examples originated as web fiction.

I decided I would write an isekai.

II. The Isekai Genre

A person from the real world is transported to a fantasy world.

Not quite as old as the revenge story. Nonetheless, this narrative concept has existed for over 100 years. The premise immediately informs the challenges the protagonist will encounter. They will adapt to a world they know little about, introduce knowledge from modern Earth society, and rise in power and prominence. Toss in a Demon King hellbent on world domination and you get a clear narrative climax. The details can be changed nearly any way without issue.

(Or so I thought.)

In retrospect, I myself was being transported to a new world. If we ignore The Chronicles of Narnia or The Pagemaster or Digimon Adventure and focus solely on the contemporary isekai genre (say 2012 on), which is what I intended to emulate, my experience extended to only the following titles:

1. Sword Art Online

2. Log Horizon

3. No Game No Life

4. The Saga of Tanya the Evil (or Youjo Senki)

5. KonoSuba

This is not only a pitiful sample size, but a specifically poor representation of the genre. Sword Art Online and Log Horizon exist in their own subgenre—trapped in a video game—and have many oddities unseen in more traditional isekai. No Game No Life and Tanya the Evil are "real" isekais, but both have unique worlds that eschew most traditional fantasy elements (especially in Tanya's case). And KonoSuba is a parody.

Nonetheless, I felt that, via cultural osmosis, I "understood" the isekai genre. Based on a few video essays I once watched that roasted dreck like Trapped in Another World with a Smartphone, and reverse engineering KonoSuba's parody, I conceived an impression of isekai as wish fulfillment: A loser gets another chance at life, often with some boon to ensure they don't muck it up this time. They become the hero, triumph with their strength and modern intelligence, and meet lots of attractive women.

I smirked. Heh, I thought. What if I made an isekai... that wasn't wish fulfillment! Truly novel. Let us take the premise of KonoSuba—a benevolent god gives a loser a second chance in a fantasy world—and turn it on its head. Instead of a benevolent god, what if the main character was sent by... a devil? The loser protagonist makes a Faustian bargain to become a hero. They get exactly what they wish for, except they're still a loser at heart, and inevitably bungle everything due to their own social incompetence.

That was the flashpoint. Ideas came together quickly, exactly as I hoped. Soon I had a narrative. It went like this:

III. The Original Idea

Our protagonist is a bumbling failure who lives with his mother. One day he sees an advertisement for a devil's wish-granting service. Being a fan of isekai anime, he goes to the devil and wishes to be sent to another world, one where he'll be the most powerful person. The devil, a sleek and professional businesswoman, agrees to the unusual wish, but pushes the work of actually creating the world to an overstressed, chain-smoking intern. The intern cobbles the world together in a matter of hours and our protagonist embarks on his journey.

He arrives to find the human kingdom besieged by the Demon King's army. The humans are outnumbered; total defeat is imminent. Just as he wished, though, the protagonist possesses incredible power. He charges into the fray, destroys the demon army singlehandedly in instants, and slays the Demon King himself soon after. The protagonist enters the human kingdom hailed as a hero.

Soon, the Human King emerges from his castle to express his immense gratitude. He offers the hero anything, including his daughter's hand in marriage. The hero takes one look at the princess―named either Mayfair or Viviendre, I wasn't sure which―sees she is exceedingly beautiful, and eagerly agrees. He's gotten exactly what he always wanted!

Unbeknownst to him, the king is a schemer. Advised by two strange beings—the rotund fairy Tetzel and the living plant Tintoretto—the king believes the hero is too popular; the people would side with him if he sought the throne. The king offers his daughter not in goodwill but to tie the hero to his side. His ultimate goal is to control the hero's power to imperialistically expand his kingdom.

Meanwhile, the princess has her own schemes. She's a lesbian and has zero intention of sleeping with the hero. In a comic scene, she gives the hero excuse after excuse why they can't sleep in the same bed despite being married; the hero naively buys it. Eventually he catches on, but while he's upset by the situation, he's too morally upstanding to do anything but accept it. (This would be a recurring theme: The hero could use his strength to force people to do what he wanted, but constantly shirks from doing so because he refuses to act in a way unbecoming of a hero. His morality and desires exist in a constant state of push and pull.)

Eventually, the hero and his wife compete for the affections of various female characters, with the wife always winning. Temporary the elf was part of this subplot: A dimwitted ambassador to be competitively wooed. To keep the hero sated, his wife buys him a female slave to use "as he likes." The hero, possessed of modern anti-slavery sensibilities, is appalled. He instantly frees the slave girl and enters a crusade to abolish slavery in the kingdom. Unfortunately, because he is not particularly smart, when he debates the slaveowners over the evils of slavery they routinely trounce him (using many arguments real-world slaveowners once used). Again, he could use his incredible power to kill the slaveowners, but they're law-abiding members of society. Murdering them would be "immoral" in the hero's eyes despite his staunch belief in the immorality of their actions.

Around this time, the hero finally uses his power for something good and sends gold back home to his financially poor mother. Unfortunately, this charitable act also goes awry when his sister, an IRS agent, thinks his disappearance is a ploy to evade taxes. She gathers a posse: her coworker boyfriend, his two friends (I called them Aaron Van Zandt and Allen Van Langevelde, envisioning an American Psycho vibe), and a private detective. Using security camera footage they track the protagonist's last known movements to a dingy apartment building, where they find the overworked devil intern who created the world and force him to send them there too.

They roll out in a huge SUV: Five people plus the hapless intern, armed with guns and equipment. The king, not wishing to lose the hero, decides he must intercept them before the hero learns of their existence. In a big setpiece-style scene reminiscent of Children of Men, a horde of knights ambush the SUV on a forest road. Arrows fly through the front windshield, killing the boyfriend (passenger seat) with an arrow to the neck and wounding Aaron Van Zandt (driver). The SUV crashes into a tree and the sister flees on foot, followed by Allen Van Langevelde, who has barely spoken before then but who now reveals themselves to be a badass marksman as they dispatch knight after knight with efficient hunting rifle shots. The private detective is wounded in the leg and forced to remain behind, while the devil intern cowers in the backseat. Aaron Van Zandt limps out of the driver's seat and attempts to follow Van Langevelde, but a knight on horseback rushes past him and knocks him down a steep incline, where he smashes his head on a rock and seemingly dies.

The knights surround the vehicle. The private detective fights back, but is overwhelmed and killed. The devil intern is captured to be burned at the stake later. The sister and Van Langevelde escape on foot, but without the intern, they can't leave the world. They need to rescue him before he is executed. Meanwhile, Van Zandt, clinging to life, is discovered by fairies and brought to their court.

And then...

IV. The Problem

And then I got stuck.

First, it should be clear by now that I did not actually have a plot. I had a series of incidents, loosely organized. Vaguely I knew the main character would work to overcome his social ineptitude and ultimately truly succeed, accomplishing the character growth his get-rich-quick Faustian bargain could never provide. But nothing came together in a coherent structure. Despite my intention to stick to a template plot, I instantly destroyed the template by killing the Demon King in the first chapter. I still had character conflicts and ideas to pursue, but no actual story.

Plus, the main character being a loser made him—well, a loser. Even if he eventually grew, he still ate shit again and again before vanishing entirely from the big action setpiece.

So my original idea of quickly and easily constructing an isekai plot hit a roadblock. Luckily, it was now 2021. After two idle years my fatigue seeped slowly out of me. Finally I regained my energy; I no longer needed to write a "fun" story. I decided to shelve the isekai, potentially permanently, and worked on Cockatiel x Chameleon in earnest.

This time, the draft of Cockatiel x Chameleon―which would be the final draft―progressed acceptably. It consumed my entire focus and I might not have thought about the isekai at all if not for two hiccups. First, though I now had the mental willpower to technically execute my ideas, the emotionally intense material of Cockatiel x Chameleon still left me sometimes wistfully longing for a story not quite so bleak and harrowing. Second, I revisited the isekai genre.

V. The Isekai Genre, Part 2

The anime analysis YouTuber Ygg Studio (formerly known as Digibro) posted a video called Is Mushoku Tensei The Most Influential Isekai? (History of Isekai) that outlined the isekai genre's chronology in Japanese pop media. Watching the video, I discovered some surprising origins to the "contemporary" isekai genre. Though there were many isekai stories―even popular ones―before, the current isekai craze seemingly began in 2012 on a Japanese webfic site called syosetsu.com, where several popular isekai were written in close temporal proximity to one another.

The main titles of note were Re:Zero and Mushoku Tensei—followed by KonoSuba, which was specifically a parody of Mushoku Tensei, instead of (as I once believed) a general cultural conception of isekai. In fact, it was these three works that created the current cultural conception, establishing many now obligatory tropes.

So, I decided to watch Re:Zero and Mushoku Tensei.

I was shocked! As it turned out, my clever and subversive idea―treating the hero as the loser he was instead of as a wish fulfillment badass―had not only already been done, it was foundational to the genre! Both works feature loser protagonists whose social ineptitude constantly causes problems for them despite their cheat mode powers. Both protagonists are forced to develop as people rather than rely on their advantages, and the development of their relationships with the other characters is a crucial consideration of both works.

As it turned out, Trapped in Another World with a Smartphone (which I also haven't seen) wasn't the beginning and end of the genre. I had underestimated isekai. In retrospect, the languid existence of my 2019 and 2020 led to me ironically attempting the same cheap wish fulfillment of my imagined isekai protagonist. I wanted a "fun," "quick," "easy" story and intended to use isekai for that purpose, the same way an isekai protagonist assumes being sent to another world is an easy way to becoming a hero.

It was time to return to the planning stage. This time, I wouldn't take things for granted.

VI. The Original Idea, Part 2

First, I revisited my protagonist. Originally an afterthought: a punching bag who failed whenever he exhibited any agency. I decided on another direction. My hero wouldn't be a loser by incompetence, but by choice. He would be clever and intelligent, but unwilling to apply himself. He wanted a new world because the original didn't seem worth it; too rigid, too structured, too immune to change. His journey would be discovering it wasn't the world holding him back, but himself. Believing nothing could be changed, he stopped himself from changing. Thus, Jay Waringcrane came into existence.

Earlier ideas were remixed around this new protagonist. I merged the devil boss lady and the devil intern into a single character, a semi-hapless sort for Jay to outwit. That was Perfidia Bal Berith. The hero's sister, whose subplot originally lacked any connection to him, now became a foil to his ideology. She exhibited utter faith in the "real world"—its mechanisms, its processes—and applied herself diligently to maintenance of its status quo. That was Shannon Waringcrane.

Still needed a plot. Since my hero was no longer a social bumbler, I discarded the original beginning where he annihilates the Demon King's army and toyed with a new idea. The human kingdom, besieged by the Demon King's army, becomes aware via prophecy that a hero is about to appear in their world. The king sends a party led by the gallant prince to find the hero and bring him safely to the kingdom. When Jay arrives, he meets the prince and his crew, but they are immediately beset by demons, who kill most of the party and grievously wound the prince. Jay, the dying prince, and the sole other survivor―a taciturn, dark-skinned mage named Viviendre who is secretly the prince's lover―barely escape. The prince succumbs to his wounds shortly afterward, leading to an emotionally-charged moment in which Viviendre laments his death and blames Jay for causing it. Leading to an adversarial relationship between Jay and Viviendre that, after much character development, would eventually turn into romance.

Then Jay would lead the kingdom against the Demon King, constituting the main plot.

This idea improved on the previous in several ways: exciting start, high drama, and a long-term goal. However, as I became more engrossed in this project, I came to dislike the "default fantasy world" I'd used as my setting thus far. When my goal was "quick and easy," the Dragon Quest-inspired medieval fantasy tropes sufficed. Now, they struck me as banal. In particular, a generic "Demon King" villain disinterested me (which was why I summarily disposed of them in the idea's first iteration), so even if it outlined a clear direction, it wasn't a direction that enthralled. I realized that to continue, I needed to do some worldbuilding.

VII. Worldbuilding

I dislike worldbuilding.

I prefer the real world―or the real world distorted by urban fantasy and surrealism―to an entirely fictitious fantasy world. In writing an isekai, I had wanted to maintain the connection between the real world and fantasy world (hence why one of my earliest ideas was for Shannon and her cadre to follow Jay in a modern vehicle with modern weapons). But by relying on stock fantasy tropes, I only exacerbated the core issue. I decided to think deeply about my setting and design it to both stand out and clearly relate to our world.

To determine a deeper connection between fantasy and related, I pondered the historical development of the fantasy genre, from chivalric romance to Tolkien. (I collected my thoughts into this essay.) Tracing this lineage, I considered writing a fantasy world modeled on Arthurian and Carolingian romance. Then I took the idea deeper. Much of the early modern fantasy genre, up to and even to an extent including Tolkien, was rooted in nostalgia for an imagined and idealized past. Many pre-Tolkien fantasy works were born out of Victorian fascination with medieval Europe, as evidenced by the Waverley novels by Sir Walter Scott, the Arthurian poems of Lord Tennyson, and the paintings of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood. The original isekai, Mark Twain's A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court, parodied this idealized medievalism (Twain blaming Walter Scott specifically for the genteel Southern culture that propagated slavery and rendered the Civil War inevitable).

Then I realized that, 200 years before this nineteenth-century craze, there was another major literary work that parodied excessive love of chivalric romance: Don Quixote.

As soon as I made that connection, everything clicked. Rather than Perfidia whipping up a new fantasy world on demand, she would reuse one she created in the 1600s for a Don Quixote-esque figure. Rather than Spanish, my Don Quixote would be British, a royalist in the English Civil War seeking escapism in face of the collapse of monarchy. Pursuing standard chivalric romance activities, he would overthrow a corrupt Catholic church analog, slay a few dragons, and war against a Pagan nation that he later converted to Christianity.

What happened to this world 400 years after Don Quixote used it as his playground? I imagined the ex-Pagan nation a vassal to the Christian nation, while secretly plotting an uprising. Don Quixote's descendants, legitimate or illegitimate, grasping to maintain control in face of their weakening bloodline. Dragons hunted to extinction. A stasis that prevented sweeping change without the intercession of a true human, yet gripped by slow decay. Prayers cast for a new hero to save them from this stupor.

I also wondered how the Christians of this world reckoned with a Christianity whose foundational text is clearly meant for a different world entirely. While Don Quixote's scion, still ruler, promoted the religion uncritically to maintain their grip on the culture, underground grew a nihilist cult that believed nobody in their world was saved, that Christ died on Earth and thus only cleansed Earth's sins. All of this intermixed with the same historical devolutionary forces that ended feudalism and gave rise to mercantile oligarchy.

That was the world Jay Waringcrane entered. A world rife with thematic potential. Finally, a plot was forming.

VIII. Starting the Story

This last stretch of planning happened quickly. (Evidenced by traces of the earlier idea remaining in Cockatiel x Chameleon, specifically in the brief descriptions of the in-universe isekai from which Temporary the elf hails.) Rather than fight a Demon King, Jay's mission would be more chivalric in nature; he would rescue a princess from the evil wizard who led the heretical cult. Liking my earlier idea about the princess who first seemed like an ordinary damsel but turned out to ulterior motives, I decided for an end-of-arc twist where the princess secretly worked with the cult all along. Thus, Princess Mayfair came into existence. For the evil wizard, I reused one of the original king's advisors, the living plant.

The gallant prince and his secret lover from the second iteration returned as Jay's companions, although I changed the lover from a mage to a ranger. Shannon would still pursue Jay, but I merged Van Zandt and Van Langevelde into a single character named Wendell Noh and cut the private detective entirely, giving the sleuthing job to Shannon's boyfriend, Dalt Swaino. I rearranged the big action setpiece where Shannon's group meets disaster: Instead of fighting knights, they would fight a dragon, and this time, Jay would be involved.

After that, keeping with the chivalric romance aesthetic, I threw some faeries into the mix (I love faeries): the obnoxious Olliebollen, who would play off the more sullen Jay, and Flanz-le-Flore, a mid-arc complication. I also decided to make the cult members monstrous demi-humans with magic powers; the Christian anathema against magic must necessarily make it actively corrupting in this world run on Christian precepts.

On top of these plans, several long-term ideas already bubbled: The eventual introduction of the devil world, Sansaime's pregnancy, Viviendre, a battle with elves, Mayfair uniting the two worlds. The ideas flowed one after another now that I established a solid base. Sketchy outlines of the full story stood limned in the distance. I was ready to write.

I decided the work would be published serially at a one-chapter-per-week pace, identical to Fargo and Chicago. That decision was baked directly into my original desire to write a "fun" story. With a serial work, there is less burden of technical execution; the focus is on a fluid pace with regular updates instead of unimpeachable prose. Furthermore, serial writing lends itself to story speculation as readers comment every week, turning the work into a collaborative experience. Some readers of Chicago have told me that the reviews on fanfiction.net are an integral part of the experience, for instance.

When I post serial works, I first build up a "backlog." Essentially, that means I write several chapters ahead of what I'm posting online. The backlog ensures I can regularly post chapters even if one chapter takes longer to write than usual. (I can generally write a 6,000- to 7,000-word chapter in one week.) For this work, I decided to complete four chapters before posting the first. This generous backlog allowed me to post the entire first arc weekly, without a break prior to the climactic chapter that took two weeks to write.

When establishing the backlog, I also gave myself more time than usual to edit, which allowed me to polish the beginning for a better first impression. I meticulously pruned the first chapter to make the dialogue between Perfidia and Jay as snappy as possible while also minimizing exposition. (Originally, Perfidia explained the Seven Princes and their increased quotas in an internal monologue, since I knew they would become important much later in the story, but I cut it for streamlining purposes.) Additionally, I spent a long time deciding when Chapter 2 would end and Chapter 3 would begin; originally, the scene at the beginning of Chapter 3 was at the end of Chapter 2, but I moved it because it better matched the tone and scope of the third chapter. Olliebollen was originally far more in-your-face obnoxious; I toned them down. Lastly, I added the part in Chapter 4 where Jay remembers being beat up by Shannon's past boyfriend, which not only hinted at a soon-to-be-introduced major character, but gave Jay a reasonable chip on his shoulder to cause friction between him and Makepeace.

With four chapters completed, I was ready to post. Almost. I still needed a title. The entire time I operated only thinking of the story as "my isekai story." Thinking long and hard, I came up with titles such as American Isekai, The Waringcranes, 144k Angels, and—my personal favorite—Hellbrowned, the last of which I was strongly advised not to use by every single person I know.

(Side note: Setting the story in Cleveland had been an easy decision. It's such a funny city, taking Detroit's tragic Rust Belt decay and removing all grandeur. The Jon Bois video The Browns Live in Hell and the famous Hastily Made Cleveland Tourism Video sum it up neatly. Setting the story in 2017, the same year the Browns infamously went winless, was also a snap decision.)

Finally, I thought back to Don Quixote, the impetus for much of the worldbuilding, and the title revealed itself.

IX. Writing the Story

Because of my fast-paced schedule, I lacked the luxury to make major changes to my plans as I wrote. I started with a plan for the first arc and scattered ideas for the future. As I wrote the first arc, I planned the second, and as I wrote the second, I planned the third.

Room remained for tweaks, though. Each time I write a story, I try to do at least one thing outside my technical repertoire. This time, I wanted more flexibility in my characters. I usually only introduce the bare minimum necessary, and aggressively cut or merge characters to reduce the total number. In Cockatiel x Chameleon, however, some commentators criticized how the Consortium's limited number of characters gave the impression it was as dead and empty as Harper's real life. While that impression doesn't necessarily conflict with the story, it did expose limitations to my economical approach.

I dislike having limitations. (Unfortunately I have many.) Thus, I decided to write more characters whose storylines were not plotted from the onset, characters I would develop spontaneously as the story progressed.

An example is Lalum. I introduced Lalum in Chapter 5 as an enemy with a unique power for Jay to fight. Zero subsequent intent for her at the time. Then I realized her power would interact well with Flanz-le-Flore's, so I kept her around for that fight as well. When Lalum is attacked in the Flanz-le-Flore fight, I was 50/50 on whether she would live or die. However, a friend reading the story really liked her and wanted her to live, and I realized it might streamline the plot if someone was around to point Shannon and her crew in Jay's direction.

Having spared Lalum from death twice, and also conceptualizing more concretely the second arc—including Viviendre's role in it—I decided I had a use for Lalum after all. I conceived of Viviendre and Lalum being foils, envisioning their eventual confrontation in the last arc. Thus, Lalum went from monster-of-the-week to major character. To a lesser extent, characters like Theovora were introduced offhandedly, and while they did not become major characters, I found small uses for them later.

Speaking of Viviendre, that was another challenge for myself. With her, I wrote something I wouldn't normally: A romance. Cockatiel x Chameleon, believe it or not, was originally intended to be a straightforward romance, but I found myself incapable of writing one and pivoted to its current direction. Nestled within the sprawling undertaking of Cleveland Quixotic, the romance between Viviendre and Jay was my attempt to write two people who genuinely liked each other. Their three-chapter mini-arc in the middle of the story moves at a more lax pace than usual, but allowed me to develop a relationship I otherwise wouldn't have been able to.

In general, Cleveland Quixotic is larger than my other works. More characters, more plot threads, more locations, more everything. Though Fargo and Chicago are also large, they operate in a more enclosed and linear space. My thought process with Cleveland Quixotic was to open up and express that feeling of world-spanning storytelling the fantasy genre is so known for. It pushed my limits, but I accomplished that goal more than in any previous work.

The real challenge is, once you go big, how do you reel it back? So many of the isekai I mentioned remain ongoing, proceeding through arc after arc without end in sight. Today's most notable ongoing fantasy literature, George R. R. Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire, is likewise mired in endless expansion the author seems incapable of curtailing. On RoyalRoad, it's easy to find million-word works with early reviews uniformly positive, but recent reviews expressing a new sentiment: "Dropped after nothing happened for the past 200 chapters."

Above all else, I wanted to avoid that trap. My solution resided in the second arc's climax, which I developed midway into writing the first arc. Uniting the two worlds made it natural for all the distinct groups of characters to join up for the finale, tying every plot thread together. As such, I cultivated multiple storylines in the long and less immediately plot-focused second arc, secure in my knowledge of how it all eventually connected.

Even so, at times it grew overwhelming herding so many characters. Many characters wound up less prominent than I initially intended, sacrificed for the good of the overall pacing. Fortunately, few characters wound up utterly vestigial, and those that did were minor. (There's no worse feeling than a character given loads of screentime and dialogue only for them to end up inconsequential when the curtains finally close. Homestuck reeks of it.)

A few miscellaneous changes that occurred while writing:

I intended for Viviendre's brother, the "mad king" of California, to appear in the final arc, wielding ten relics for an epic duel with Jay. Given the large amount of characters already prominent in the story, I cut him.

I intended for Sansaime to die at the end of the second arc and for Avery to live. This was mainly because I wanted Jay and Shannon to have a cathartic moment with Avery in the final arc (Avery still would have died afterward). I realized that, using Pandaemonium, I could have that cathartic moment anyway, and Avery wound up saving Sansaime's life both outside and inside the story.

On the flip side, I originally intended for Mallory to die at the end of the second arc, but decided I wanted her and Mayfair to have a climactic conflict, which could only be done if Mallory were still alive.

I intended to kill off the minor character Gonzago of Meretryce the entire story, probably by having him jump in front of Shannon to take some attack or another. I never found a way to work it in, and I feel like the actual use I got out of him in the climactic fight, though minor, was far more unique. I likewise considered killing Mademerry by having her take an attack for Mayfair, but I prefer her current ending. I did not intend to kill Pythette, but found at the last moment it would be more convenient if she died.

Beyond that, I wrote the story generally according to plan. Leaving aspects of my plans malleable meant I could write quickly without needing absolute certainty in the precision of every line and action. Only in Chapter 45, the climactic chapter with Beelzebub and Moloch, did I sit down and carefully outline what each character would do at each moment in the chapter. (The chapter's seven-minute time limit made such meticulousness essential.) Otherwise, even in other climactic fights, I relied only on general ideas about what should happen and when.

Ultimately, I successfully completed the longest story, with the largest number of characters, I'd ever written. It pushed my limits, but in a way that didn't leave me gasping for air. Instead, I feel ready and eager for my next story. What'll it be? I have an idea and I've already begun research. I hope to start writing it by the end of the year, and publish it by mid-2024. I'll let you know more as things become more concrete.

X. Names

Before I end this post, a few name origins.

Perfidia Bal Berith: As mentioned in the story itself, "Bal Berith" (or Balberith, Baalberith, et cetera) is a false idol mentioned in the Bible. It is also a demon of the Ars Goetia. My familiarity with the name primarily comes from a weapon used in Fire Emblem: Radiant Dawn.

Olliebollen is based on oliebollen, a Dutch pastry.

Mayfair is the name of a character in Shining Force: The Sword of Hajya, the first video game I ever played. Her middle name, Lyonesse, is a character from Arthurian legend.

Makepeace came from an attempt to make a name that would pair well with Mayfair. My primary knowledge of the name comes from British author William Makepeace Thackeray. His middle name, Gaheris, is an Arthurian knight.

John Coke's name was modeled on the character Wicks Cherrycoke in Thomas Pynchon's Mason & Dixon. I only found out after I posted the first chapter that John Coke was the actual name of a person involved in the English Civil War notable enough for a Wikipedia page. I was more than happy to pretend this incredible serendipity was actually my plan all along.

Sansaime's name was modeled on the characters Sansloi ("without law"), Sansfoi ("without faith"), and Sansjoi ("without joy") in Edmund Spenser's The Faerie Queene, which was the primary inspiration for the romance elements of Whitecrosse. "Without love" is also a notable phrase in the visual novel Umineko When They Cry.

Whitecrosse's name also comes from The Faerie Queene, being modeled on the Redcrosse Knight, an allegorical representation of England (with its red cross flag).

Many names in Cleveland Quixotic have an "allegorical" sense, being words that suggest a clear, often moral meaning. Charm, Charisma, Mayfair, Makepeace, Mademerry, Theovora ("god eater"), Condemnation, Obedience, Tricia (short for "patrician"), Meretryce ("meretricious"), Mordac ("mordacious"), Malleus ("malleable"), Astrophicus ("space plant"), Viviendre ("life ender"), Perfidia ("perfidy"), and so forth. These allegorical names are a play on The Faerie Queene being an allegory, although many of the names in Cleveland Quixotic are not an accurate representation of their character, indicating the breakdown of allegory and thus clear moral meaning.

California is the name of a location in Amadís de Gaula, Don Quixote's favorite romance.

Dalton Swaino is the real name of a semi-pro League of Legends player.

Wendell Noh's surname comes from a professional League of Legends player. His given name is the name of a character in Fire Emblem: Shadow Dragon and the Blade of Light.

Kedeshah is a Hebrew word that possibly refers to sacred or temple prostitutes.

Ubiquitous is an ordinary word with a clear meaning, but its abbreviation, Ubik, is a Philip K. Dick novel that was also the name of one of the demons in Berserk.

The Seven Princes, rather than refer to the traditional Ars Goetia representations of the Seven Deadly Sins, are pulled from John Milton's Paradise Lost, which was the primary inspiration for most devil theology.

Flanz-le-Flore is a corruption of Blanchefleur, a name that appears in a few romance legends.

Lalum is an alternate translation of Larum, a character in Fire Emblem: The Binding Blade.

Pluxie is a feminization of a semi-pro League of Legends player's screen name.

Tintzel is a corruption of the character's original name, mentioned earlier, which was taken from historical corrupt priest Johann Tetzel.

Jreige is the surname of a semi-pro League of Legends player.

Justin "Just" Vance is a play on J.D. Vance, an Ohio politician.

Temporary, one of the earliest names that persisted into the final form of the story, is modeled on the elves in No Game No Life, who have names like "Think" and "Feel."

The other names in the story do not have any particular meaning or genesis.

XI. Conclusion

I believe that covers the generation of Cleveland Quixotic from beginning to end. If I missed anything, or if there's anything you want to know more about, please send me an ask and I'll be certain to answer. Thank you again for reading and stay tuned for my next work!

[nickmakura]

Adult Scooby-Doo TV Show Pitch

So, the idea with my theoretical Adult Swim Scooby-Doo TV Show is to avoid any inclination this is a reimagining. I'm envisioning this is as being a sort of continuation of the concepts and story present in Zombie Island, Witch's Ghost, and Alien Invaders. But, attempting to keep up the original episodic format of "Where Are You?" and breaking some limits of what you can put these characters through.

Part of the reason "Zombie Island" works, is because these are the same characters we grew up with. But they're a little older now too. They all have jobs, they're long past high-school, they have adult expectations. But for the most part, Hanna-Barbera doesn't change anything about Mystery Inc's personality, and instead drops them into a scenario that is dark and gritty. Which makes it far more terrifying.

But another reason is Zombie Island keeps the inherent comedy without sacrificing the horror. Good stuff.

So how do you take the concepts of Zombie Island, and transform it into a monster of the week Scooby-Doo show?

Coast to Coast with Scooby-Doo!

Part I: The Plot

After the harrowing experiences dealing with true brushes with the supernatural and the paranormal, Daphne Blake is now more convinced then ever that she needs live footage of a real honest to good ghost. If they can get one on camera, and report it, this will be the find of a century.

Sticking with the original plan, Scoob & The Gang travel across America investigating real folklore and horrors, in hopes of finding something real.

Part II: The Formula

So, Coast to Coast With Scooby-Doo is kind of a mix of genres. But for the most part, I want it to be a Horror Comedy Mystery show, but it's also a road trip show. One of the things I liked about Zombie Island, is that it took place in New Orleans, and introduced us to real New Orleans cuisine. From beignets, to po' boys, crawdads, gumbo and jambalaya. But it also told us about the voodoo scene in New Orleans.

I'm now dead set on heading out to New Orleans sometime just to try the food, and I think that's something that can really help drag Scooby-Doo down to earth. It makes you really want to visit these places, and maybe investigate a haunting while you're there too.

So, here's the setup.

Spooky Cold Open, probably a Murder

Theme Song

Scoob & The Gang ride the mystery machine into town, probably with some sort of banter. Velma brings up where they're going, and Shag is like "Yo man, it's been a minute since we've been out to New York! You guys think Trinidad Golden Palace is still open? Like they had one crazy Shark Sandwich dude!" Then another member of the gang brings up they're actually looking to go to the statue of Liberty, where, by the way, there is ACTUAL rumors of buried treasure and ghosts. This changes depending on local

The gang stumble upon mystery, ask questions, find out gruesome details, meet suspects. Daphne & Fred interview some people.

They film the hauntings as they're happening, and search for clues.

Then, as the episode progresses we figure out whether or not this thing is real or fake. If it's real, the gang have to find a way to take down the monster using ingenuity and what they've found in the episode, or they have to capture the culprit and breakdown the mystery.

Small things, but I feel like having a constant bet between characters whether or not it's real or if it's fake would be something really fun actually. I think the audience would have fun getting in on the question too, and guessing along with the gang.

Part III: The Adult Part

So, this is a show for adults, but the fact it's FOR adults will not override that it IS Scooby-Doo. Which is to say, that it will have murder, swearing, mentions of sex, but it will not go beyond what you expect in terms of tone from Scooby-Doo. It's a fun horror comedy mystery show about 4 friends and their dog who investigate spooky mysteries. You can't change that core premise or you risk it no longer being Scooby-Doo and something else entirely.

So if you need a member of the gang to swear for a scene, you can, but it can't breach too far out of character for the group. Like Fred can say fuck, but he's still the leader Dad type guy who likes Daphne, and likes building absurd rube goldberg type traps. Shaggy can smoke weed, but he's still the goofy moral center of the group. He makes fun sandwiches, he cracks dumb jokes, he's scared of getting stabbed, but he sticks around for his friends. Velma can be a lesbian, but she's still the quirky smart character who loves books and science.

But most importantly you need to make sure it's still abundantly clear to the audience that no matter how much drama or crazy shit they see, Scoob & The Gang are all best friends who love working together.

[katy-l-wood]

Are you willing to share your thoughts on the TV show Yellowjackets? I was into it for a bit, but haven't kept up and I love analysis, especially critical kinds because they're often the most interesting and I feel with your experiences you'll have some really cool angles on it. No pressure to answer if you'd rather not!

Sure! But with the caveat that I've only seen season 1, and it has been awhile. Also, I'm going to stick this under my "Disasters in Film" tag because, well, it's on theme even if we haven't specifically discussed Yellowjackets in class.

Now then!

I love the core concept of Yellowjackets. Girls' sports team has their plane crash in the woods and no one comes to get them, and it all goes sideways and falls into the horror genre more than just pure survival? A+ concept right there.

But I don't think a single writer on that show has ever been outside a single day in their lives.

It's just a suspension of disbelief issue for me. You've only got so many SoD points you can spend when you create something, and Yellowjackets is deep into the red. Hollywood has made it pretty easy to SoD things like everyone turning on one another, random murder, people being vicious to one another, etc. etc. even though studies have proven over and over and over again that people really don't behave like that in disasters. But you've still gotta spend some points on those things anyways, because deep down people DO know they're lies even if Hollywood likes to use them all the time.

So your core premise has already cost you some SoD points, but that's fine! You still have some to spend. But that number isn't infinite, and the more outlandish your details, the more points you're going to have to spend to pull them off. Yellowjackets just spent way too many. (A wolf ripping someone's face off and she's fine with zero actual medical care? Really?)

Now part of this, too, is the structure of Yellowjackets. It is a story told by jumping between timelines/flashbacks. It plays keep away with its audience. That is a structure you have to be VERY careful with or your audience is going to get annoyed with you and tune out. It can work when done right, but if you try and do it when you've already overspent your SoD points? You're gonna run into trouble. Plus, if you don't have a strong, solid plan for the whole timeline of your show across multiple seasons--a plan you will not change--it can fall apart in a heartbeat. It is not a structure that works for open ended projects of an unknown length.

A girls' sports team having their plane crash in the wilderness and getting stuck there IS conceivable--it's literally happened in real life with that soccer team. The girls struggling to survive and some of them dying IS conceivable--again, it has happened in real life. The girls growing up into adults that struggle with the aftereffects of that crash IS conceivable. The girls starting a weird little cult is starting to tread into the realm of "eh, maybe, but it does make for a great story so it's fine." Same for them finding a very helpful little cabin full of stuff. Could happen, but less likely. Then you get into the "wait, I don't think that would EVER happen?" stuff. Would a bear really just walk up, roar at you, and then you kill it with basically no real weapon? (Do you know how hard bears are to kill? Their skin is WEIRD.) Wolves ripping people's faces off. A convenient plane that later explodes.

At the end of the day, I think the show tried to do too much in too short of an amount of time to build up the believablity for the more outlandish things, and I think it's structure--and the fact that it doesn't seem to have a solid plan all the way through for its story--just made those things worse.

Now, not all of that is the show's fault! The way TV works these days--with shorter seasons and precarious chances of renewal--played a big role. I think Yellowjackets could've been a great 3 season show with each season getting 20-22 episodes. There would've been a lot more breathing room for the character arcs, especially given how many characters there are (and some of them are doubled given they survive to grow up and be adults). I think it also could've been helped a lot if they had some outdoors/survival consultants involved. The more realistic they made the survival elements, the more they could've gotten away with the weird horror elements because they wouldn't have wasted so many SoD points on things they didn't need to waste them on. Having a more realistic wolf attack (or, even better, a cougar attack) would not have changed the overall story. Having a more realistic struggle to find food would not have changed the overall story. Having a more realistic changing of the seasons would not have changed the overall story. Etc. Etc. Etc.

So yeah. Those are my thoughts on Yellowjackets! Coulda been great, but it got kneecapped in about five different ways.

[halucygeno]

[Draft] Why Roadside Picnic is a timeless masterpiece and why everyone missed the point

(DRAFT NOTE: Otherside Picnic and PAFL are tagged because I intended to conclude this essay by explaining why I think those works, ostensibly inspired by R.P., don’t understand and fail to capture what makes the novel so powerful. My writing never got to that point, but it might still be of interest to fans of Otherside Picnic and PAFL, so I’ve kept the tags. If I ever manage to somehow finish this, I’ll take it down and replace it with the full version.)

ESSAY START:

With that needlessly provocative title out of the way, I hope people are still here and willing to listen as I try to explain myself:

[SPOILERS FOR THE WHOLE BOOK, GO READ IT IF YOU HAVEN’T DONE SO YET]

At its very core, Roadside Picnic is a character study. It acts as philosophical and social commentary too, but a vast majority of that is delivered and explored through Redrick’s character arc.

The sci-fi stuff which everyone loves referencing, and which every adaptation and “inspired” work can’t help but include: the Zone, the artefacts, bolt tossing, Mosquito Manges - none of that matters. You could replace it with magic, or dragons, or some other arbitrary plot device - it just needs to be beyond human understanding and have no clear explanation or origin, to allow for the ideas discussed by Noonan and Dr. Pillman in Chapter 3. This basic premise is all you need to discuss xenology, human psychology, “what’s a rational being”, how insignificant we are in the universe, etc.

All the other details are either little tid-bits of worldbuilding, window-dressing, or serve a specific narrative purpose. Witches’ Jelly could be any “super dangerous substance”, because what matters is not that it eats your bones, what matters is that Redrick sells it to a shady dealer, betraying the morals he espoused in Chapter 1:

All of these objects aren’t just “cool artefacts”, they’re tools for the Strugatskys to get across their themes.

And those themes are... Well, that’s harder to summarise. The main theme of the story seems to be about how economic circumstances and crises in one’s personal life can rot a person’s moral compass and kill their faith in the possibility of a better world. The events of the story turn someone like Redrick - an honest worker who believes in Kirill’s promises that science has the potential to save humanity - into an evil hypocrite, a murderer who lies to himself to justify his reprehensible actions. The question asked of the audience is “how responsible is Redrick for his own fate”, while the ending asks “will any of it amount to anything”?

To be clear, Redrick is a BAD person. By the end of the book, he has quit his job at the Institute, sold Witches’ Jelly to shady 3rd parties (which ended in a laboratory accident that killed 35), cheated on his wife (with a woman he supposedly despises) and murdered an innocent kid. He even draws sadistic pleasure from the emotional pain he will inflict on Burbridge by killing his son, savouring the irony of Burbridge being the one who kept encouraging him to take some newbie to the Meat Grinder:

But he wasn’t always like this. At the start of the story, he is cynical and rough, but he has principles. Like already mentioned earlier, in the excerpt where Noonan tells him about someone looking to buy Witches’ Jelly, he even goes as far as saying that he’ll work with the police to turn them in. The same police which, earlier in the chapter, stopped him in the street because they profiled him and assumed he was up to something:

Redrick has done his time in prison, gotten an honest job (yes, I know that he says that he still makes "a few bucks on the side”, but he’s actually relieved when he hears they’ll be walling off the Zone because it’ll mean “less temptation”. He wants to make money as a decent citizen), and he’s still being treated like a criminal and stopped by the police on-sight. And despite this, his fear of what the wrong person might do with Witches’ Jelly is so strong, he’s willing to go to them and report the buyer.

And this rejection of his prior Stalker persona is deeper than just getting a job at the institute and being willing to cooperate with police. When Kirill assumes that Redrick suggested getting the Full Empty as a ploy to sell his services, at first, Redrick doesn’t understand what he means. When he does, he feels outright insulted:

When he finds out about Kirill’s death, he is devastated, but notably, this sorrow quickly turns into a hatred of the systems which throw young men to their deaths for money. He curses Ernest for profiting from this exploitation. A key scene is when he hands Creon (a young man who just arrived in Harmont and wants to become a Stalker) a wad of cash and urges him to go back to Malta:

Another pillar of Redrick’s character is the fact that he loves and is loyal to his fiancée, Guta, despite her family being openly antagonistic towards him - not just because of his criminal past, but the fact that he’s been afflicted by the Zone:

He marries her at some point after this.

Most importantly, he actually has a purpose. This is shown when he is pestered by the emigration agent, as he makes a speech about how Harmont is a “hole into the future”, which will change life around the world for the better:

The crucial detail here is that the one who inspired him to think this way is Kirill. Redrick is always portrayed as cynical and bitter, so this high-mindedness is not coming from somewhere within him - it’s external. He’s drawing inspiration from the idealistic, honest people around him. So when Kirill dies, it is not merely the death of a close friend. It is the death of Redrick’s faith, his hope in the future. He even says “How will I get on without you?”:

Basically, Chapter 1 sets-up Redrick AT HIS BEST, so that the story can send him on a downward spiral in every chapter that follows.

Chapter 2 has several important developments, and it marks the start of Redrick’s moral decline. Before getting into that, though, I’d like to draw attention to another part of Redrick’s moral compass which is highlighted - his hatred of Burbridge and, more importantly, his hatred of Burbridge’s daughter, Dina.

Buzzard Burbridge embodies the most reprehensible, slimy aspects of being a Stalker. He is a selfish profiteer, willing to sacrifice his comrades and leave them to die just so he can get away with the loot. Redrick hates Burbridge, and, very importantly, believes himself to be better than Burbridge:

Redrick hates that Burbridge has no regard for human life, and this hatred applies in equal measure to Dina. When Dina tells Redrick that he should have left Buzzard to his death, he slaps her in the face:

This is not done out of sympathy for the man - Redrick hates Burbridge. What insults him is the implication that he should’ve left a comrade to their death - even a piece of sh*t comrade. He hates Dina, because even though what she says about Buzzard is true, it’s not a reason to abandon him to his death. Just like her father, she has no regard for human life.

In this scene, it’s also worth noting that Redrick is very respectful to Hamster. Hamster is the only Stalker to survive entering the Meat Grinder, supposedly saved by Buzzard. He seems to hang around the Burbridge household, possibly acting as some kind of servant, but is deformed and crippled from his injury:

The contrast between how he speaks to Dina and Hamster sends a clear message; Dina’s beauty means nothing. She’s evil, and deserves less respect than ugly, deformed Hamster.

Another key moment is Redrick’s conversation with Noonan in the café near the Métropole hotel. There, we learn why he quit working for the institute; money. He could no longer earn bonuses when expeditions to the Zone began being handled by robots:

Important here is that his salary still isn’t terrible, and the institute did not fire him. He chose to quit, because he wants a sense of freedom, of not being bossed around, and the money to splurge on things (like cigarettes) and have peace of mind. This is aptly summarised in the line “a man needs money so that he doesn't have to always be counting it”.

Obviously, another reason why he quit is Kirill’s death. In his final, rambling monologue, Redrick admits that he hated working for the Institute, so it’s very likely that Kirill and his idealistic visions for the future were the only things keeping him there.

So, to summarise, at this stage, Redrick’s character looks more or less like this: 1) Wants to do honest work and disassociate from his criminal past. 2) Believes the world can be saved by technology from the Zone. 3) Will never sell Witches’ Jelly to dangerous 3rd parties. 4) Needs money for a basic standard of comfort and freedom from authority. 5) Won’t abandon someone to their death, even someone as bad as Buzzard. 6) Beauty doesn’t matter if, morally, you’re an awful person. 7) Loyal to his wife and daughter.

Having lost Kirill, and with him, his hope for a better future, Redrick’s new source of meaning is his wife and daughter. His purpose in life is providing for them, especially Monkey, whose condition makes her the target of bullying.

(Side note: One thing always annoyed me. Why did they call her Monkey?! That’s asking for people to bully your kid! Was it just a coincidence, or did they really name her after her birth defect? And this is an accurate translation of the Russian “Мартышка”, no weird translation problems here.)

But this new purpose - providing for his family - crashes into him hard when he’s set-up, betrayed, caught by the police, and is forced to flee. It’s then revealed that Redrick had a trump-card up his sleeve - a jar of Witches’ Jelly and an interested buyer, willing to pay the money to his wife in instalments while he rots in prison. It’s never stated how long his prison sentence is, but Redrick estimates that evading arrest (which he did to arrange the transaction) will add another year to it.

To be clear, this jar was prepared as a last resort. He clearly doesn’t want to do this. Earlier, in the Métropole, when he's asked if he managed to procure it, he lies, saying that he didn’t:

He promises to get it later, keeping Throaty interested, but not giving it to him. Later, as he’s about to make the call, he admonishes himself:

This the first major step in Redrick’s decline, where his self-interest explicitly endangers the lives of others, and he still picks himself over others.

Before moving into Chapter 3, one part which I’d like to quickly touch on is the circumstances of Redrick’s arrest. I didn’t pick up on this on my first read, but Ernest wasn’t the one who set-up the police ambush in the Borscht. The one who set up Redrick’s arrest was Richard Noonan:

At first, I was confused as to why Redrick never realised that Noonan betrayed him, but after looking at it more closely, and despite how stupid it may sound, I genuinely think Redrick was so sleep-deprived that he forgot Noonan was the one who told him to drive to the Borscht in the first place. After getting into the cab, he falls asleep and wakes up, incorrectly thinking he told the driver to take him to the bank:

Regardless, in Chapter 3, we learn that Richard Noonan is some sort of government agent, working for the Institute or with law enforcement in some capacity. His mission is to shut down the “flow of materials from the Zone through Harmont”, which is why he has been befriending Stalkers and infiltrating their social circles, monitoring them. His activities include buying artefacts from Stalkers and rerouting them to the Institute:

If you’ve been paying attention, the Stalker which Noonan mentions in the above excerpt, the one he is stringing along and exploiting for his swag, is Creon, the Maltese Stalker which Redrick tried to pay to give up on the profession and go back home in Chapter 1. He persevered, became a successful, and what did it get him? He’s not an adventurer - he’s a pawn, drowning his sorrows in booze, getting closer to death, unaware that he’s being exploited by Noonan.

The worst part of this, which is never said explicitly, but heavily implied, is that the Institute is allowing certain Stalkers to operate because real humans are better, more effective gatherers of artefacts then their officially sanctioned robots. They are supposedly cracking down on this illegal activity, but they don’t mind taking advantage of it while they can:

There’s a sickening duality to it. Officially, Stalkers are criminalised, thrown in jail, ostracised. But behind the scenes, the Institute relies on them to deliver them materials, strings them along and keeps them on their payroll.

(Side note: I’ll let you draw whatever real-life parallels you find applicable. The ones that immediately come to my mind are the US prison-industrial complex and the funding of the the Taliban, but I’m sure you can find many, many more.)

Later, we generally get to see Richard Noonan being a horrid person - beating up a subordinate for having overlooked a group of Stalkers who were sneaking into the Zone without the Institute’s awareness.

Following this, Noonan has his conversation with Valentine Pillman, where the analogy of a “roadside picnic” is used and where the book derives its title. The general message is that we’re completely insignificant. The visitation wasn’t an instance of aliens coming to contact us or conquer us - they were just passing by and accidentally dropped a bunch of their trash on us.

Of course, Pillman qualifies this by saying that this is just his personal theory, and that there is no evidence to support this, or any other interpretation. He points out that to speculate about the motives of non-human beings by applying human psychology to them is folly, and calls xenology a pseudoscience.

For how central this conversation seems to be to the book (it’s in the title, after all), I don’t actually think that it’s a particularly interesting concept. It speaks to a general existential dread many people can probably relate to, being insignificant in the face of the infinitely complex, incomprehensible mechanisms of the cosmos. But it seems quite simple and self-contained, especially compared to the layered, interconnected themes of the rest of the book. It’s quaint.

Much more interesting to me are the things we find out about the artefacts recovered from the Zone. Eternal Batteries, seemingly capable of producing infinite energy, are used to power people’s private cars. Black Sprays, little beads which one theory claims are huge swathes of compressed space, are used to decorate jewelry:

To be blunt, Kirill was wrong. The artefacts from the Zone and the research done by the Institute are not “saving the world”. They’re accomplishing almost nothing. At best, they become the playthings of the wealthy and powerful, while the working class is literally killing themselves in the Zone to acquire them. At worst, they’re causing horrible accidents and killing people, like the Currigan labs incident:

The point of this is to show that fancy new technology does not inherently uproot old systems of injustice and exploitation. Without societal change, even something as reality-shattering as an alien invasion will be slotted into the old way of things. There’s even a passing mention of more luxury accommodations being built in Harmont in response to... tourists:

I saw another Tumblr post tagged with #roadside picnic, complaining about how people are trying too hard to make every soviet novel into something political. Well, I’m sorry. IT IS POLITICAL. You’re just not paying attention. If you disagree, I challenge you to read the above passage about “the suburbs being emptied” and tell me that it’s not trying to communicate anything about the economical systems ruling Harmont.

And if I need to spell it out, the force consuming and destroying the lives of Stalkers is not “the Zone”. It’s capitalism. The characters constantly talk about greenbacks, about needing money. The reason Stalkers need to break the law and risk their lives is either because they have rent to pay, or because they want to become financially stable enough to be free from the coercion of bosses and landlords.

The entire reason Redrick betrays his moral convictions in Chapter 2 is because of money. He leaves the Institute because his job is being automated, his pay is being cut, and he doesn’t want to live paycheck to paycheck. He wants to be free. And finally, he sells the Witches’ Jelly because he has to keep his family fed while he’s stuck in jail.

And if you still think I’m just reading too much into things, seeing what I want to see, I’d like to take you back to Chapter 2 for a few notable passages. Namely, Redrick’s experiences as he is entering the luxury hotel, Métropole:

This is Redrick, talking to a cop. Yes, the police, so eager to harass him in Chapter 1, are suddenly asking him if he’s alright, offering to help, calling him “mister”. So what changed?

Well, he is wearing a suit, holding a suitcase, standing in front of a fancy hotel. They assumed he’s rich. That he’s a respectable citizen, that he’d never need to steal anything.

There’s a genius reversal here - in Chapter 1, Redrick was an honest lab worker, but was profiled and stopped by the police. In Chapter 2, while the cop is trying to help him, he’s on his way to an illegal deal with a suitcase full of contraband. He’s an actual criminal, but he’s treated with kindness, because he looks upper-class.

And if you still somehow think this is all a coincidence, I ask you - why is this scene here? Why was it written? Seriously, it’s such a random moment, a complete non-sequiteur from everything happening beforehand, and I never hear anyone talk about it. Redrick, out of nowhere, begins having strong hallucinations and has to stop to catch his breath. If the key information being conveyed here is “Redrick suffers from hallucinations”, why not just have him catch his breath and move on? Why add this random cop, trying so hard to be helpful?

The answer is simple. It’s not a “random cop”. It’s social commentary on how cops exist to protect and serve the ruling class.

In the hotel itself, we have this moment where Redrick steps into an elevator full of absurdly, comically obnoxious rich people:

If you’ve been ignoring the attached excerpts so far, I urge you to read this one. I cannot adequately summarise how seeping with contempt and revulsion these descriptions are. Redrick closes his eyes to try to “shut out” these people, to not have to look at them. The young boy is eating chocolate, of course, drooling, while his mother has the Black Sprays we talked about earlier on her necklace. This is the privileged, wealthy elite and Redrick HATES them and what they represent. It’s textbook class antagonism.

And this doesn’t just affect Redrick. Returning to Chapter 3, Noonan visits Redrick’s house and speaks to Guta, who tells him about their struggles with Monkey, whose condition had worsened, destroying most of her cognitive abilities:

Noonan is wealthy. He’s one of the people who uses a car powered by an Eternal Battery. He lives in hotels. But more importantly:

Noonan genuinely sympathises with Redrick and Guta’s plight, and the suffering they’re going through because of Monkey’s condition. He genuinely wants to help them, and is ready to, but then remembers his boss. He remembers that his job is not to help the ones who are struggling and need it the most, but to serve the system. To label these people criminals and “infiltrate” them, monitor them, instead of simply befriending them.

Of course, Richard Noonan is an awful person. But we're almost given the sense that, given his position, he doesn’t even have an opportunity to be a good, honest person. When he genuinely feels sympathy for those he exploits, he forces himself to stop and suppresses his good nature. Because that’s what’s expected of him, what his job requires. He’s there to protect the interests of the Institute - the ruling class.

I really hope these examples adequately demonstrate what I believe to be the main political themes of the story, because I’m going to put those aside for a moment and go back to the personal, moral journey of the main character.

The only thing of note left in Chapter 3 is Redrick’s father and his reaction to news of the lab accident.

[UNIFNISHED DRAFT ENDS HERE]

(TRANSLATION NOTE: All quotations are taken from the Antonina W. Bouis translation, despite there being an arguably more accurate translation by Olena Bormashenko. This is out of habit, not preference - I’m more familiar with the Bouis translation, which made searching for quotes easier.)

(Huge thanks to Antonina W. Bouis and later Olena Bormashenko for bringing this book to an anglophone audience, to Irena Lewandowska and Rafał Dębski for translating it to Polish, and to Siergiej Rajkov and Milan Asadurov for doing the same in Bulgarian.)

[gobbogoo]

Rewriting Megamind 2 to Not Suck So Hard

Ok, ignore the God-awful lighting, lifeless animation, and bland-as-possible character designs for a second. Take a moment to appreciate that they looked at a film with a CORE THEME of loneliness and decided:

"Let's give the protagonist a bunch of friends he never brought up!"

So to really drive my point home, I figured I'd try and pitch a version of this premise that DOES work with the original film:

FIRST, the idea of Megamind trying to put together some sort of "Legion of Doom" back during his villain days isn't THAT bad. It sounds like something he'd try, though he'd give it a much more melodramatic name, and MOST IMPORTANTLY, you'd make it that nobody wanted to join!

We've SEEN Metroman in action, we know how blatantly overpowered he is. As the first movie discusses in detail, Megamind fought him ENTIRELY because he loved the game, not because he actually expected to win. Most villains aren't like that. They're in it for money and power, and would consider Megamind an absolute tool for not just moving his operations to a different city.

This establishes Megamind as an outcast within this wider villain community and ties into all the themes and concepts explored in the first film. ESPECIALLY if you have it that Megamind used to WANT the approval of these people. Even give him some older villain idol who first inspired him to upscale from mischief-maker to full-blown supervillain. One that reflects a darker version of the supervillain he used to be.

Now instead of being "old friends," these supervillains are toxic opportunists, showing up specifically BECAUSE they've heard Metroman is out of the picture. And like toxic opportunists, they immediately start telling Megamind how impressed they are with this whole "pretending to be a hero" thing. From their perspective, he killed Metroman, created a new supervillain, then "saved" the city from the villain HE created to earn everyone's trust as a hero. What a brilliant evil scheme!

This makes Megamind doubt his qualifications as a hero.

They then tell him they want to HELP convince everyone he's a hero by doing the same pagentry he and Metroman used to do. They play the villains, he plays the hero. The city continues to give him the acceptance he craves, and he lets the villains get away with JUST enough to keep their operations running. Everyone gets what they want with minimal collateral damage. WAY better than if they all moved in and started doing REAL villainy... right?

Megamind's arc here is one of learning confidence in his new role and coming to accept he doesn't need people's adoration to be happy with who he is. He initially accepts the villains' offer both because he believes it's the best way to keep the city safe, and because he doesn't think he can actually take them on as a hero. After all, the WORST thing possible would be the city seeing him fail, because who would accept him then?

Then as the film progresses, the villains begin taking advantage of Megamind more and more, using his initial agreement as blackmail by threatening to reveal him as a fraud to the city, robbing him of their acceptance.

The finale involves Megamind realizing that a TRUE hero would stop these villains even if it costs him his reputation. That he's unintentionally fallen into the same trap as Metroman, where he's more focused on fulfilling the ROLE of a hero than actually BEING a hero.

Tada! A sequel that builds on the original while exploring new themes and ideas! In the words of the Megamind 2 trailer:

[sareinadale]

please tell us more about this helsa series you are writing 👀💕

nonnieeee!! but it wouldn't be a surprise now, don't you think so?

okay honestly, i wasn't planning on working on a long helsa series, though i did have a similar plan with the 'marriage of convenience' trope as the core of the series.

what started out was really just a series of twitter banters with my friend that expanded into fully fleshed plots, with some spanning over a month or three depending on how far the plot develops.

truthfully, i've been yearning to find a writing partner who could match my writing style and be excited to write SO MUCH about a ship. while helsa initially wasn't my OTP ( yes, i started out as jelsa ), somewhere in 2022, i turned into an ardent helsa shipper thanks to my other friend.

ANYWAY, back to the series ( me and my big mouth can't hold it back anymore ):

the entire premise of the story takes place after the events of Frozen 1, but not until Frozen 2. her magic is still there, just not at the forefront as it did in the first movie. and oh, yeah, it's in the mid-1800s! there's also inspiration drawn from ( majorly ) the frozen musical, a frozen heart and a little bit of dangerous secrets.

others may have written something similar like mine, but this is really an extensive series of ‘what-ifs’ that mainly focuses on the aftermath of her coronation, her struggles of trying to be a good queen for arendelle and all the times she shouldn’t hang out with hans, who showed up on arendelle after serving his prison sentence for two years ( roughly ) – which led to her falling for his pretense like anna.

of course, there's a few original characters that we made for this series! besides that, i personally have a pinterest board dedicated to hans and elsa, alongside a spotify playlist that follows their entire journey :D

there’s also an element of hans’s morally grey side, which, as santino fontana said, hans isn't what he seems to be ( meaning he has personal motivations like any other people ) and my lovely friend who writes as hans has the most detailed lore on him and everything, and i honestly couldn't be luckier and so SO grateful to know them and write together ❤️

obviously, when we started plotting, we realized that their story's going to be LONG, and we've decided to break it down into three major acts. the second act is arguably going to be the longest and where we are currently.

so, the theme of the story is the title of the series itself: 'in hindsight'.

in hindsight is basically a sequel to a prequel titled 'shattering ice'. in this one, the story explicitly deals with her first visit to the isles and meeting the star-studded cast of the westergaards whom, again, my friend here has built – completely tragic, awful, and all things negative that shows who they are as a family.

also the prequel will serve as the starting point of their relationship because we don't want to jump on that chemistry building with haste.

right now, we're mostly focusing on in hindsight and pretty much pausing shattering ice. also, because the former became a full blown series, i had to upgrade my g-drive storage hahaha so all of their past plots and current ones are safely stored in there.

all in all, this series is arguably the most special endeavor i've ever done. it's got a TON of emotional realism in there, soft moments in the form of jane austen-esque longing touches kinda way, gut-wrenching angst and a bittersweet ending ( i'm not ready for the last part, but we've planned on how the series will end ).

even in spite of our busy schedules, we found time to keep writing out the replies, info-dumping personal headcanons of our characters and hyping each other whenever the ship had their fluff / angst moment. i seriously could not thank my friend enough, and i really appreciate her for all the helsa brainrots ❤️

and finally, the reason i've not put it up on AO3 is because i didn't want that invisible pressure of needing to update it. i mean, yes, it's still ongoing, but imagine if i just upload the complete series and voila? basically giving a delight to potential readers that the series is done hahaha.

i don't foresee we'll finish it by end of this year, even though we started out since june last year. but who knows, it could end well until the following year?

okay nonnie, there you go 🤓

[wildfire-wordsmith]

Damsel Movie Review

I watched the movie Damsel, and I was extremely excited about writing this review. It's spoiler free as to actually encourage people to watch it. The film is a semi-classic damsel in distress retelling, hence the title. The trailer makes the premise quite clear: there is a princess cornered by a monstrous dragon, but there is no gallant knight to save her. In fact, the knightly and rich prince is the one to throw her to the dragon as a sacrifice instead.

In terms of thematic impact, the tale clearly aims for feminist tones. I appreciated that the movie did not just make the character a woman in order to call the film feminist. The characters felt like real women, and not just a male character technically played by a woman. The main princess, Elodie, enjoys beautiful dresses and jewelry at the beginning of the film, even though she is also willing to fight for her life. She is excited to meet her husband, and she still has dreams of traveling the world and maintains a well-rounded character. She does not have to reject femininity to be strong or have independent wishes. It is great that many movies depict women of all types who do not have to be feminine, but there is also a strength in movies that tell women that they can be feminine and be capable at the same time. There seems to be a gap to fill for the second kind of movie, and this movie filled that gap quite well.

The film also has many characters that passively resist other tropes for women. The stepmother is not an evil stepmother; she cares for her adopted children deeply. The evil stepmother is a classic trope. For example, Disney princesses in Cinderella and Snow-White (and their many retellings) often had loving dead biological mothers who were replaced by vain and power hungry step mothers as villains. It was refreshing to see a remarried woman who was not taking advantage of her husband: hunting for power or money and mistreating her children in the process. The stepmother in Damsel passively challenges harmful stereotypes about remarried women by clearly and specifically valuing her family more than money in kingdom politics.  

In terms of entertainment value, a gigantic dragon can't be beat. Admittedly, the motivations and reveals were a bit predictable. I found this not to be a bad aspect of the film. It is retelling a fairly classic story, and therefore meant to play on predictable aspects of the trope. There were still a few plot elements that did take me off guard (regarding Elodie’s sister Floria). Overall, the more predictable elements were balanced with both a “cool” factor from the dragon, along with a few world building elements. The castle of Aurea was not only beautiful, but had decent foreshadowing for the dragon. I thought attention to detail served me well in this film, as the creators clearly had an eye for detail themselves. Many of the scenes are more intricate in terms of castle detailing than I would have expected. This balance was also struck by still finding ways to surprise the audience in ways that add to instead of distracting from the plot, while still maintaining core elements of the story it retells.  

I highly recommend this film, which manages classic fairy tale elements in ways that both do not tire the audience of the tropes they use, and develop well thought out themes and characters.

[alvoskia]

Welcome!

FAQ:

1) What is Alvoskia?

Pitched as TDP x ATLA x Six of Crows, Alvoskia is the over arching name for the planned series. In-universe, it’s a fictional country in the West of Vita’s Land, ruled by a democratic monarchy and boasting variety of kingdoms and independent states. It is very socialist in its structure and shares its borders with just about every other people, including elves, wolf-human shapeshifters, giants, and their primary rival / long time enemy, Kilvoskia, the two countries largely splitting the continent in two. It is, therefore, also the main setting, loosely, for most of the book(s).

2) What is an Infran?

One of eight reincarnated protectors, each bound to their own cycle and with their own unique power set consisting of 3-4 abilities. The Infrans are as follows: Life, Death, Water, the Moon, Fire, Knowledge, Time, and Blood. Their abilities include but are not limited to shapeshifting, elemental manipulation, death and shadow magic, dream sharing, telekinesis, and healing.

3) Who are the main characters?

All of the main core cast (seven in total) are important, but the main protagonist throughout is Ally, a resourceful if insecure Infran of Life who has lost access to her abilities and is trying to get them back (an ‘unchosen’ one if you will). The other two leads of the first book is her twin sister Jamie, the Infran of Death and an asshole with a heart of gold (think if Kaz and Inej from Six of Crows were one person) and their mutual friend, Flames, a prodigal Infran of Fire with an equally sunny personality and a dark past to run from. Things take a turn when Alvoskia is threatened with war/invasion, but with hope that the peace treaty can still be renewed.

4) What inspired the premise?

A lot of things, but growing up as a very ATLA obsessed kid, I always wondered how people in the Avatar-verse knew that the Avatar would, without a doubt, be a good person, as well was what it would be like if there was more than one Avatar running around, and they could disagree with each other. Thus, Infrans was born with a strong mythic foundation as well as a desire to subvert typical fantasy tropes over how certain tropes like elves, dragons, unicorns, and indeed chosen ones, are typically portrayed. 

5) Themes?

A focus on the complications of friendship (jealousy, resentment, trauma, found family), religion (religious trauma and reclamation, chosen one status), war (what is worth fighting for vs knowing when to yield), and trauma (acceptance, grief, healing). 

6) Representation?

Everyone in the main cast is a person of colour except for Bill, the resident healer. Everyone in the main cast is canonically queer (featuring bi-ace, bi, pan, genderfluid / nb, trans, aspec characters) except for Isuri, who I picture as cishet but can honestly easily be read as arospec. She is Islamic coded as well and wears a hijab equivalent. Ally’s journey with her abilities is allegorical for growing up ND in a lot of ways; she and Jamie belong to an in-universe minority religion somewhat reminiscent of Yazidism. Flames is canonically Autistic and uses both she/her and he/him. One of their main instructors is an amputee and more characters become disabled over the course of the series.

7) Triggers?

TW: death, some mild gore and blood, mentions of abuse and indoctrination, body horror, and very minimal mentions of animal abuse/death. If you read The Hunger Games or Six of Crows, you’re probably good here. There are is no SA, racism, homo/transphobia, or religious discrimination, although the series does touch on xenophobia sometimes (think TDP). 

8) Where am I publishing wise?

In late March 2023, I received an offer of publication from an indie press I had queried the previous year. I have accepted this offer as of September 2023 and signed paperwork as of October 2023, with an expected March 2026 release date. More details will follow and some of the journey will be blogged about here under “dragons’ publishing adventures”!

Thank you for checking out this blog, reading this post, and potentially following this blog. I’ll probably post here a few times a week with word counts for revisions I’m making in my own time, playlists, some edits/moodboards, and small snippets of writing. I’m still working on the characters page but the ‘about’ and ‘writing’ is done for now. Feel free to send in any questions or DMs, I would love to hear your thoughts!