#but apparently they had to reset them or something instead of just like...accessing settings and changing the display mode or w\e

[inflagrante-delicatessen]

now i know I've catastrophized before but i might actually be getting this time lol

[kasienda]

The Five Minute Adventures of Snake Noir: Ch 8 - Confrontation

Chapter 1: I Want It To Be You

Chapter 2: Best Friends

Chapter 3: Best Laid Plans

Chapter 4: A Thank You

Chapter 5: Unwanted Revelations

Chapter 6: Miraculous Abuse

Chapter 7: Five Minute Adventures of Ananta

Chapter 8: Confrontation

Adrien started at the sudden thud on his bedroom floor. He looked up. Ananta was breathing heavily and his expression was solemn. His best friend definitely didn’t look like he was just there to continue his day of goofing off and having a ridiculous time. 

“What’s wrong?” Adrien asked. 

“Your old man is a serious piece of work!”

“Did you punch him?” Adrien asked. 

Nino threw his hands up. “No! And I definitely should have! I have serious regrets! He fucking shattered my knee cap and tried to take the snake!“

Adrien dropped his stylus, and turned his full attention towards his guest. “Umm… maybe you should start from the beginning.” 

Read on Ao3

Nino sighed, and let himself flop backwards onto Adrien’s bed. 

“I was just continuing to live out my reckless fantasies. I just confronted him! I yelled at him about how awful of a father he was, and the bastard barely reacted!” Nino complained. “Then I told him you were Chat Noir, and it was like he flipped a switch.” 

“You told him I was Chat Noir?” Adrien asked, his voice small. 

“It never happened now! You don’t need to worry.”

Adrien shook his head. “I wasn’t… Uh… I mean, how did he react?” Adrien asked softly, his throat had dropped into his gut.

Nino wasn’t even looking at him - his friend was staring at the ceiling, fidgeting in clear agitation. “He went scary silent! He called Nathalie in. Apparently, they’ve suspected you were Chat Noir before, and thought they had ruled it out during Gorizilla.”

“Did he say anything else?” Adrien asked.

“Umm… he said barely anything the whole time I was there. I was the one talking. I told him how amazing you are, and how much of a jerk he is, but he didn’t react.” 

“He said nothing else?” Adrien asked again, gripping the side of his chair, trying to disguise the urgency with which he needed to know.  

“He mostly just said his parenting choices were none of my business. But… he did say something melodramatic like, ‘my own son, this entire time,’” Nino said, dropping his voice into his lower register in a mock impersonation of Adrien’s father. “Like you being a superhero was a personal affront to him!” 

“He was disappointed then?” Adrien asked. 

Nino bolted into a sitting position, his expression horrified as he finally caught Adrien’s train of thought. “Dude! I’m sorry! I didn’t think! I didn’t even consider that! Of course it would matter to you what he thought of your dual identity. I definitely didn’t mean to hit you with all this like a train. I’m so sorry!” 

“It’s…” Adrien trailed off. It wasn’t exactly okay, but Adrien wanted it to be okay. He definitely knew Nino hadn’t been trying to hurt him, but Nino had also known that Adrien was avoiding talking to his father with the snake. “It doesn’t matter,” Adrien said instead. “Just… tell me what he thought of the whole thing.”

“I… I don’t know, dude. He was definitely super creepy. But… I think he was holding back everything he was thinking. I don’t know what he thinks. Do you want me to go in there and try and find out?” 

Adrien shook his head rapidly. “No… it’s better if we keep your knees intact, and make sure he doesn’t have access to the snake. Maybe, you shouldn’t be here at all.” 

“Dude, are you okay?” 

“He really attacked you?” 

Nino nodded. “When my miraculous beeped its first warning, he looked right at it and then lunged forward. And dude! He was super capable! He knew exactly how and where to strike to incapacitate me.” 

“Did he know who you were?” Adrien asked softly. 

Nino winced. “Yeah, he figured it out. It probably wasn’t hard based on what I was screaming at him.” 

Adrien wilted.

“It’s okay!” Nino insisted. “I reset. I’m fine.” 

Adrien disagreed. It wasn’t okay that his father was willing to attack a miraculous holder, but especially wasn’t okay that his father was willing to attack his friends. 

What would motivate him to do that? 

“He actually tried to take your miraculous?”

“Dude! He almost nabbed it. If it hadn’t been for yesterday where I had so much practice hitting that reset without thought, he might’ve been successful.”

Adrien fell quiet, but his mind was whirling, and he wasn’t happy with where it was going, but he couldn’t not consider it.

“Dude, what are you thinking?”

“Nino, what if my father is Hawkmoth?” Adrien was amazed at how steady his voice was. Maybe it was because he had heard it before. Or maybe, it was just starting to make too much sense.

“Dude! That’s a big leap. The guy is awful and honestly, I wouldn’t be that surprised, but surely there are other explanations for him being a jerk and a good fighter?”

“Ladybug suspected him once before. She had actual evidence.”

Nino’s eyes widened. “Shit.”

“Yeah,” Adrien said on an exhale.

“What was the evidence?” Nino asked quietly.

Adrien shook his head. “I don’t know. I got really defensive and snapped at her. And then he was akumatized, and she crossed him off the suspect list. I never thought about it. I didn’t want to think about it.”

Nino nodded. “Understandable. But what does he get out of being Hawkmoth? He already has pretty much everything!”

“To bring back maman.”

And it fit. The second the words were out of his mouth, Adrien wanted to throw up. He could see it. His father was used to getting what he wanted either through intimidation or money, but bringing back his mother was something he was denied. Instead of accepting that, grieving and moving on like a normal person, would his father have turned to magic?

“Nathalie would have to be in on it,” he thought out loud. Maybe that’s why she had been so horrified by his identity and insistent that she and his father couldn’t know his.

“I’m going to need the snake back, Nino,” Adrien announced, his voice monotone, but steady.

“What are you going to do?” Nino asked. 

“I’m going to find out for sure if my father is Hawkmoth,” Adrien said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Will you be okay, alone? Shouldn’t we call Ladybug, maybe bring in some reinforcements?”

Adrien shook his head. “Time loops are easier when you don’t have to explain everything you’ve learned to a team...” he trailed off, considering. “And honestly, I… I would prefer to know first. If we’re right, I will tell her. But I’ll set the time loop outside the mansion. If he makes any kind of move, I will reset immediately. It’ll be fine.”

“But… will you be? If it turns out that he is?” 

“I… I don’t know. But it’s like you said, Nino. I have to know.”

“I’ll be here.”

“No,” Adrien disagreed.

“No? Dude! If you’re right about all of this, I don’t want you here in this mansion alone!” 

Adrien shook his head. “Honestly, I don’t want to face this alone either, but… if Ladybug has taught me anything, it’s that we have to be smart about this. If you almost lost the snake… I might lose it, too. I might get captured or incapicated or worse. I need someone to know, who’s not here! If you don’t see me by tomorrow, you go straight to Alya with our suspicions, okay?”

Nino looked so torn, but in the end he nodded. “Okay. But can I give you the snake back after I’ve gone back home?”

“What? You don’t want to be carried over the threshold bridal style by your superhero crush?” Adrien teased, but if Nino’s somber face was anything to go by, the joke fell flat. 

“I don’t want you to be tired right before you go and confront your father.” 

… 

Adrien took one slow deep breath with his eyes closed. Then he activated the snake and launched himself through the open window in his father’s office.

“You are trespassing on private property. I demand that you leave,” Gabriel barked instantly, rising to his feet at Snake Noir’s intrusion. 

“Is that anyway to greet your friendly neighborhood superhero?” Snake Noir joked the way Adrien Agreste never would. 

“You are a teenager in possession of a power you do not understand. Using a miraculous that you just randomly found is hardly an accomplishment worthy of respect. Especially if you are using it to break into private residences.”

“I would think not having lost once to Hawkmoth, and having personally saved you on two separate occasions would be its own resume,” Adrien countered.

“Or perhaps, if you had given it up to him in that very first encounter, the city would already be free of his influence and I never would have needed rescue.”

“Are you seriously suggesting I should have handed over the power of destruction to a terrorist.” 

“Yes.” 

“You’re a real piece of work,” Adrien snapped. 

Gabriel picked up his phone. No doubt to call the authorities.

Adrien reset with a sigh.

“You are trespassing on private property. I demand that you leave.” 

“Actually, I happen to live here.”

Gabriel froze, his grey eyes rising to Snake Noir’s masked eyes.

“Adrien?”

“I realize you likely don’t approve.” 

“Of my son gallivanting around the city in that ridiculous cat suit while putting his life in mortal peril?” Gabriel barked. “No, I don’t approve.”

“And here I was hoping that some part of you would be proud of me,” Adrien admitted softly. 

“Adrien, I forbid you from continuing as a superhero. It is far too dangerous.”

“You’re not going to remember this conversation in three minutes, father. You’re not in a position to make demands.”

Gabriel held out his hand. “Give me your ring and I will take care of it.”

Adrien backed away, knowing if what Nino had said was true, his father was more than capable of an effective strike. “I’m not going to give you my miraculous. Not either of them.” 

“Then what did you want to tell me?”

“I’ve come to ask if you’re Hawkmoth.” 

“You would accuse me? Your own father? Of being a domestic terrorist?”

“Would you cut it out and just answer the question?”

“Watch your tone!” 

“You’re worried about my tone?!”

“I see no reason to entertain your insolence and disrespect with a response.”

Adrien’s gut twisted. It wasn’t a denial. But it wasn’t a confirmation either. His father was not acting like an innocent man. And while Adrien was more convinced than ever that he was onto something, he wasn’t leaving until he was absolutely sure one way or the other.

“Father, I’m sorry.” He wasn’t actually sorry, but Adrien knew that an apology was often one of the only tools he had to calm his raging father. “I just… Ladybug suspected you. And I had to prove her wrong. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

His father’s face gave away nothing. There was no change in his expression or posture. 

“I’m just worried about you, Adrien,” his father said. “You’re a child. You shouldn’t be risking yourself. This isn’t your fight. Nor your responsibility.” 

“It’s not that big of a risk,” Adrien countered. “Ladybug always brings me back.” Adrien watched his father’s face carefully. 

And sure enough, his lips pressed together into a thin line. 

“You don’t have a say,” Adrien pressed further.

“I’m your father!” Gabriel insisted. 

“That doesn’t mean you get to make every decision about my life!” Adrien shouted back. He knew that he’d never have had the gall to say that if his father was going to remember his defiance, but it felt freeing to say. Maybe Nino had been right and he should have confronted his father with the snake weeks ago. 

“You are still a child! Until you’re an adult, it is my right to see to your safety and affairs.”

Adrien bristled at his father’s choice of words. His right?! Didn’t he mean responsibility?

But that was just it. His father probably didn’t see caring for him as a responsibility. Nathalie saw to his affairs, and his bodyguard saw to his safety. What did his father ever do other than try to control him? 

“I haven’t been a child since mother left! And I think I finally understand why she did! To get away from you controlling every part of her life!”

“How dare you?!”

“How dare I?” Adrien repeated. “You’re the one that drove her away!” 

Gabriel shoved his computer monitor off his desk. It fell to the ground with a shattered crash. Then Gabriel flipped the desk itself. 

Adrien took a step back, every muscle tense and ready to spring into retreat. He had never seen his father lose control like this. 

Gabriel stalked forward, over the debris, his breath suddenly heaving in his chest. 

“Get out of my house!” he screamed, spit droplets flying from his mouth.

Adrien didn’t need to be told twice. He reset. 

He stood once again on the mansion’s tiled roof. The sun was shining, the sky a perfect blue. Birds chirped in the garden and a car drove past the outer gates. 

There was no evidence that he and his father had been screaming at each other seconds prior. 

Because they hadn’t been. 

He drew in a shaky breath and sat down, burying his head in his hands and knees. The event now only existed as a figment in Adrien’s memory. 

His father hadn’t just lost control. He hadn’t just kicked Adrien out of his childhood home. 

And yet his hands were trembling and his heartbeat was roaring in his ears. 

Adrien was more convinced than ever that his father was the villain Ladybug had suspected he was. But what would get his father to come clean? Just asking hadn’t worked. Challenging his authority always made things worse. As apparently did direct confrontations.

Adrien stood up.

He knew what he had to say. 

He reset, and then dove back down into his father’s office for the fourth time. 

“You are trespassing on private property. I demand that you leave.” 

“Hello father,” Adrien greeted formally. 

Gabriel’s eyes widened, focused on his transformed suit. “Adrien?” 

“I’ve come to apologize to you. I’ve been fighting as Chat Noir this entire time to protect Paris. But that was before I realized what Hawkmoth was fighting for.”

Adrien could already see the anticipation gleaming in his father’s eyes as he leaned eagerly forward. 

“And what is Shadowmoth fighting for?” Gabriel asked. 

Did he seriously just correct the villain’s name to Shadowmoth? 

“You’re fighting to bring back mom,” Adrien told him. “And I want to help you. Ladybug…” and he had beat back a sob for even uttering these words. “Ladybug… she trusts me. I can… I can get you the miraculous of creation and I already have destruction,” he said, holding up his hand putting the ring on display.

“And you are willing to support Shadowmoth against the partner you’ve fought beside and defended for two years?”

“Family should come first, don’t you think?” Adrien said. 

His father was silent, considering him stoically. 

“I would do anything for Maman,” Adrien whispered. “To hear her voice again? To see her smile? Wouldn’t you?” It was what his father would have said to him had the identity reveal had played out in the reverse direction.

Gabriel smiled as he rose to his feet. “I should have trusted you with this ages ago, Adrien. I am sorry. I doubted you. I wasn’t certain that you had the stomach to do what needed to be done. To think, you were the key to victory the entire time. I should have had more faith.”

Adrien’s whole world shattered at the unequivocal confirmation. And yet, he remained standing, his eyes were dry, and his hands remained steady. Some part of him wondered at his ability to take the revelation without flinching. He knew if he had learned this a year ago, he would be a puddle on the floor balling,  barely able to function. 

But a lot had changed in the last year. A lot had changed in just the last few weeks. Adrien suddenly had a lot of practice at dealing with world-ending revelations and the accompanying grief. A lot of practice at saying good-bye to people that he loved.

“I miss her so much,” Adrien said, his voice cracking. And this time he did nothing to suppress the tears that wanted to fall. Because in this much, he was being honest. He missed her. 

So much.

His father came around the desk, and swept Adrien up in a hug. For one weak moment, Adrien allowed himself to melt into the awkward embrace. 

And then, the snake miraculous beeped, and his father jerked away violently, his eyes blazing with unbridled rage.

“You’re in a time loop?!” his father roared. 

Adrien didn’t give him another second to react. 

He reset. And he was back on the mansion’s rooftop. He dropped like a lead weight to the roof tiles. 

He had just done something he had never done before. 

He had earned his father’s admiration and respect.

His love.

The tears came fast and hard, and Adrien just let himself heave and sob because he knew he couldn’t keep his father’s love. 

It came at a price Adrien was unwilling to pay.

And now, given what he knew he had to do, he knew without any doubt he would never have his father’s love.

Not for the rest of his life. 

…

It only took two more loops to stop crying. And then his experience as a superhero who always had to act, to strike, to make decisions in life or death situations took over. Because he was a professional with a job to do.

But before that, he would give his father a chance to surrender. Adrien knew that his father wouldn’t take it, but he had to try anyway if only for his own peace of mind years from this moment. 

“You are trespassing on private property. I demand that you leave.” 

God, Adrien was really getting sick of that line. 

“Gabriel Agreste, hand over the butterfly and peacock miraculouses without a fight, and I won’t tell a soul who you are.”

Adrien held out his hand, hoping with every fiber of his being that his father would just surrender. 

Gabriel glared at him, but didn’t say anything for several seconds. Was his father considering his escape options? Or was he actually considering surrendering the miraculouses? 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he eventually said stoically.

Snake Noir snorted. “This is my ninth loop. I’ve already confirmed you’re Hawkmoth. If you give it up, you can continue to live your life of privilege with your family. The city never need know who you are.” 

“That’s quite the generous offer coming from you,” Gabriel said. 

Gabriel was wrong. It was a selfish offer. Please father, please just take it. 

Snake Noir glanced at the portrait of his mother that hung behind Gabriel “You’re not the only one who has lost someone you know.”

Gabriel launched to his feet, snarling. “What do you know of loss?”

“I lost my mother about three years ago, and I think I’m about to lose my father,” Adrien confessed calmly.

His father froze, his eyes widened. “Adrien?”

“Please father, give it up,” Adrien entreated. “Give it up and we can be a family.” 

“Adrien, we can be a family. A whole and complete family with your mother here with us again. Please, just help me. With Chat Noir on our side, our victory is certain.”

Adrien squeezed his eyes shut against his father’s pleas.

“I will forgive all the years you fought against me. Join me now, and we can bring her back.”

“We can’t,” Adrien sobbed.

“We can,” his father insisted. “The ladybug and black cat will grant any wish.” 

“The cost is too high.”

Gabriel snarled at him. “How can you be against me?! I did this all for you!” 

“For me?! Are you serious, right now?! This was always for yourself!”

“For both of us!” 

Adrien shook his head in agitation. 

“I don’t want to hurt you, Adrien,” his father said, his voice contained an actual note of desperation. 

Adrien’s eyes shot to his father’s and considered him. 

His father might now want to hurt him. But he would. If that’s what it took. 

Hot tears spilled down his face. 

“So be it, father.” 

“Adrien!”

Adrien didn’t give him the chance to say anything else. 

… 

On his next loop, he came through the front doors rather than through the window. His focus was on Nathalie. 

If his father deserved a chance, so did she. And he was far less certain what she would choose. 

Nathalie jumped to her feet instantly at his unexpected presence. 

“Don’t stand on my account,” he told her. “I know you still haven’t been feeling well.” 

“What can I do for you, M. Noir?” she said with as much dignity and professionalism as ever. Like his presence wasn’t abnormal at all. 

“Where does he keep it, Nathalie?” he asked. 

“Where does who keep what?” she asked, but it was clear to him that she was stalling when she glanced toward the doors to his father’s office. 

“My father?” he clarified, following her gaze. “Where does he keep the butterfly miraculous?” 

She stared at him, her expression almost unchanged except her pupils had dilated. It was good to know some things were capable of throwing Nathalie off her unshakeable foundation - that she was human.

She pushed the glasses up her nose. “I wouldn’t presume to know who your father is.” 

“Nathalie, you’ve already figured out that I’m Adrien, and you’ve clearly known about him for far longer if you were using the peacock.”

She flinched.

He walked right up to her, his eyes looking down at her. 

When had he grown taller than Nathalie? 

“I’m not going to tell you anything,” she said. 

His chest tightened painfully. He knew he had no claim to Nathalie’s affections, but he didn’t want to lose her, too. “Nathalie, please. Help me end this somewhat peacefully before one of us winds up killing the other. Please!” 

“He’s doing this to bring your mother back,” she confessed. 

He nodded. “Yeah, I got that. But I think maman might’ve had a good reason to leave. He has no right to force her back to a life she clearly didn’t want.” 

Nathalie shook her head. “She didn’t leave. She’s still here. She’s just in a magically induced coma.” 

He lost the ability to breathe. 

His mother was here? The whole time? They had let him believe she was gone, that she had left him? Or that she had died? When she was here the whole time?! 

His grip tightened around his baton, and his eyes burned.  

“Did either of you ever consider telling me?” he choked out. 

“He tried once, but you gave him your blessing to move on, and he decided you weren’t dedicated enough.”

He shook his head. Of course he did. “I gave him my blessing to move on with you,” he snapped back. 

She glanced past him and adjusted her glasses. “Be that as it may,” she said softly. 

“I don’t understand you. You’re willing to die for him?”

She turned back to him, her eyes suddenly intense. “For all of you! To heal your family!” 

He took a step back. He wasn’t certain he wanted to be a part of this family. 

“So you won’t help me?” he concluded. 

“I won’t betray your father, Adrien. I can’t. I hate that it was you that we were fighting. And I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too, Nathalie.”

He reset the snake.

… 

It only took thirteen loops to figure out how to get to the super secret supervillain lair underneath the mansion.

And there she was, preserved perfectly. She was exactly as he remembered - beautiful and soft. She could have just been sleeping if she hadn’t been lying in a glass coffin like some fairy tale princess waiting for a kiss of true love.

“Hi maman,” he whispered, his claws tracing out the curve of her face on the glass. “It’s… good to see you,” he managed before his throat lodged itself closed. He leaned his forehead against the smooth surface and he shook as silent sobs overtook him. 

He fought to gain his breath back under control. He had so much he wanted to say to her. “So much has changed since you left us,” he whispered. “I wish I could tell you about all of it. 

“I’ve missed you so much,” he sobbed. 

“How did you get down here?!”

Adrien whirled, and found himself face to face with Shadowmoth. 

“It wasn’t hard,” Snake Noir said, before pointing to the window. “That’s a very big window.”

“What are you doing down here?” the villain demanded.

“Saying good-bye to my mother,” Adrien said. 

Whatever his father had expected him to say that was not it. He literally stopped in his tracks, his eyes going wide as if Adrien had just struck him. Which in a way, he supposed he had. “Adrien?” 

“Yes father?”

THe older man smiled. He actually smiled. “This is perfect.” 

Adrien had never disagreed with his father more in his life. This was about as far from perfect as they could get. 

“You can help me,” he was saying. “Help your mother. You have what we need! And I’m sure if Ladybug knows it’s for your mother, she’ll be willing to help as well.”

Snake Noir shook his head, tears trailing over his mask. “We can’t revive her,” he whispered. 

“We can!”

“The price is too high.” 

“I will pay any price!” his father screamed. 

“And that’s exactly why you can’t revive her! Did you know there was another timeline out there? One where you akumatized me! And the whole fucking world was destroyed! Is that a price you’re willing to pay?”

“If you help me, there would be no reason to akumatize you.” 

“I can’t believe you! There’s no way I can convince you to give it up, is there?”

Gabriel ignored him, stalking closer. “Give me your miraculous!” 

“I won’t!” 

“This isn’t your battle to fight!” Gabriel snarled. “You are a child!” 

“I stopped being a child the day mother disappeared! Because you disappeared the same day she did! I thought…” Adrien broke off momentarily overwhelmed with his tears. “I thought you were grieving! Turns out you were terrorizing the whole city!”

“For you!” 

“That’s a load of bull shit!” Adrien screamed back.  

Shadowmoth surged forward, snarling. And Adrien had run out of walkway. “Is your mother not worth it? You would betray me? Betray your own mother? For what? Some girl you barely even know?”

Adrien laughed bitterly. At this point he knew Marinette far better than either of his parents. If only she knew that.

“You would make me choose between two women that I love?!” Adrien countered. 

“It shouldn’t be that hard. There are millions of women for you to fall in love with. You only have one mother.” 

“I could say the same to you,” Adrien said. “You could fall in love again. You only have one son.” 

Shadowmoth lunged forward, striking with his cane. Adrien parried the blow with his staff, and dodged to the side. “Maman wouldn’t want you to do this!” he yelled.

His father laughed. “This was her plan!”

Adrien stumbled, and lost his form. Shadowmoth struck again through the lapse in his defenses. 

Snake Noir took the strike to the shoulder, and fell backwards. “Then she doesn’t deserve to be revived!”

Gabriel sneered. “I failed in raising you.”

“You didn’t raise me at all! And I’m likely better for it!”

Shadowmoth struck downwards, but Adrien just flicked the snake miraculous before the cane could make contact again, and he was back on the mansion’s tiled roof overlooking his mother’s gardens. 

“Sass, scales rest.” The snake slipped away, but he was still Chat Noir. He vaulted blindly away needing to be anywhere else.

Once he had put half a mile between himself and his former home, he collapsed to the ground, and pulled open the communicator. 

“M’lady, I figured out who Shadowmoth is. And I took the liberty of doing some reconnaissance with the snake.” He swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. “And I-I… have a plan. Let’s meet on your balcony; I’ll be there in thirty minutes. Please invite Rena and Carapace. And don’t worry about costumes. I already know who all of you are and I think both the others know who you are, too. See you soon, princess.”

He ended the call, buried his head into his knees, curled up, and cried. 

…

Chapter 9: Family

[famouslastwordsinmexico]

Suggested for You

     You think to yourself, I shouldn’t have looked that up online.

     You’re now staring at a bunch of banner ads that frame your email inbox. Each one is attempting to entice you to purchase succulents from flower shops near and far, small and conglomerated. The bright, animated images boast to you about how their store’s succulents will set you on the path to self-care while reconnecting you with nature. You know these ads are suggested to you and tailored specifically for you based on your search history, but, really, you just wanted to know how to spell “succulent”.

     To be fair, you probably shouldn’t be looking up non-work related curiosities while actually at work, but it’s been a slow morning. And yet, right as you excuse yourself for the trivial indiscretion, you’re called into your manager’s office. You lock your computer and worriedly head over to where they wait for you. Upon entering the room you see that there is someone else here for this impromptu meeting. Or, rather, someone has video-called in, their face on your manager’s monitor, which has been turned to meet yours.

    “A representative from HR will be joining us remotely,” your manager informs you. They then sit on the front edge of their desk, not behind it, in a manner you suspect all managers unironically believe comes off as cool and relaxed.

    “Huh. Is something wrong?” You cautiously take your seat, looking between them and the digital HR rep.

    “Oh, no, not at all. It’s just a small request.” They fold their hands in front of them. “That presentation you’re working on for Friday; I wanted to ask if you would give it over to Robert.”

    “Robert? Why? I thought it was supposed to be my project.” You worked hard on that presentation, and even harder on that project. It was something that was going to get you noticed by the higher-ups, a first step towards bigger things.

    “It is. Or, it was. It…” They stop themselves, physically appear to reset, and adopt a concerned face. “We’re simply worried it might be putting too much stress on you.” They lean in. “How are you feeling? Is everything alright with you?”

    “Uh… I’m doing fine?” You’re progressively less certain about what’s happening.

    “You sure? You can be honest with us.” They lean back. “We’ve heard you’ve been depressed.”

    The shock of this gives you mental whiplash.

    “‘Depressed’?” you echo. “Why would you think that?”

    “Well,” they begin, affecting the concerned yet distant tone in which only senior managers are capable of speaking, “it’s come to our attention that you’ve been sharing some pretty troubling sentiments.”

    “I only really talk about work-related stuff with people, honestly.”

    “No, I’m referring to the stuff you share online.”

    Dumbfounded, you blink.

    “You see,” your manager explains, “we recently employed a service that keeps us up to date with our employees.” They seem mildly pleased with themself over their technological ability. They speak to you but look at the HR rep on screen. “Of course, it’s only because we care for the well-being of everyone here in the office. And their software told us that you’ve been feeling quite down lately. They even highlighted some examples; is it not true that you recently posted about how nothing really matters?”

    You don’t recall using those words for anything. As you confusedly shrug, they pull out their phone and hand you it, showing the post in question.

    “Wait, what?” you ask. “Those are song lyrics. To a very popular song! I shared them for a ‘Throwback Thursday’.”

    “Hmm, no,” they say, taking their phone back. “I’m still seeing a cry for help. Like, what about this one: ‘All I want is to sleep and pizza and do nothing and sleep’? That sounds pretty depressed.”

    “That was one of those online things where people let auto-complete write a post for them.”

    “Sure, then how do you explain this post, where you describe how you wish the food truck across the street would ‘run you over’ if you ‘tipped extra’ for your burrito before you got back in from lunch?”

    “That’s a really old post I made when I was at my old job. The one I left for this job! I made that joke to vent. Other people liked it.” Specifically two people: a friend, and the food truck’s company (which you presume auto-likes any mention of their brand).

    Your manager sighs as they shake their head.

    “Come on, now, you don’t have to hide. You can be honest.” They lean in again. “This is sophisticated software; it wouldn’t lie. Its algorithm combed through your life and crunched the numbers. You are depressed. And, if you’re feeling depressed, we want to make sure the company isn’t placing any undue stress on you. Wouldn’t want you turning around and saying we’re unfair, or that we torment you with public speaking, huh?” No one laughs at their non-joke. The HR rep briefly writes something on their notepad. “Right. Well, when we ask you to hand the presentation off to Robert, it’s not just because we want it to turn out well, it’s because we want you to be well, too.”

    “You’re punishing me because of memes?” you ask, unsure of how much incredulity you can show without further risking your job.

    “Oh, no, of course not,” they reply, “we would never!” At this point your manager doesn’t even try to hide that they’re assuring the HR rep more than they’re talking to you. “This company does not punish depression. In fact,” they add, turning back to you, “why don’t you take the rest of the day off? We’ll mark it down as a sick day, a day for ‘personal care’, even.” They nod to themself, satisfied. “I’ll mark it down in your time sheet right now.”

    They pull out their phone and begin typing, finished with this meeting. You want to tell them not to do that, since you only have a limited number of sick days, but feel there’d be no use arguing. You stand up, at a loss for words. As you slowly turn to leave you find the HR rep is pointing towards the printer in the room. It prints off something you deduce they sent remotely. It appears to be a pamphlet. The person in the monitor motions for you to pick it up, their face set in the textbook definition of a polite smile. The pamphlet is titled Dealing with Depression.

    Your smartwatch pings as you grab the pamphlet and the screen displays an ad for succulents. You turn the watch off.

    You don’t feel like going home right away. You instead head to a nearby cafe and order the kind of sugary latte you know isn’t worth the high price and higher calorie count, but you could use the comfort. There are no real baristas here, only machines that charge you extra to print a picture of yourself onto the latte foam. You pay the extra amount. You then sign on to the free wifi, checking off the terms and conditions you didn’t read, and take a picture of your cup to share online. Not five minutes of browsing later you get a call from your mom. You plug in your headset and answer.

    “Are you alright?” she asks.

    “Yeah, how do you mean?” You wonder why everyone’s asking you that today.

    “Because you’re not at work!” You realize now that the picture you just posted is location-tagged. “And I know what kind of drinks you like when you’re feeling sad; I’m your mother, after all.” You should’ve never accepted her friend request.

    “No, it’s not that, it’s just… I’m alright. Working from home today, but I figured I’d grab a coffee. That’s all, I promise.”

    You don’t think she believes you but her silence tells you she won’t push if you don’t want to tell her the truth. You instead get a notification on your phone that your mom has sent you a “poke”, a feature that only moms still remember exists. She breaks the silence first.

    “Well, okay then,” she offers, “if you say so. Anyways, there was something else I wanted to ask you about.” Her tone gets conspiratorial for her next question. “Are you and Jamie dating?”

    “What?!” You nearly choke on your latte. “No! Why do you think that?”

    “Your aunts told me,” she answers plainly. “And, apparently, some of their friends told them first. They’re still not used to, you know, those kinds of relationships.” As progressive as your mom can be, her age and upbringing still show from time to time.

    “I don’t even know my aunts’ friends, why would they think I’m dating Jamie?”

    “They saw your picture online.”

    You rub your eye, annoyed.

    “What picture, mom?”

    “Well,” she starts, and if phones still had cords you could imagine your mom twirling hers now, wrapping her finger as she shares the gossip, “you see, one of your aunts’ friends was online and saw you as a suggested friend.” You never understood what algorithms determined those suggestions. “She was curious, so she went in and browsed your page. There it was, a photo of the two of you, looking pretty close and cozy.”

    You check your account on your phone. There’s no way someone randomly looking you up online could’ve seen that photo. Although, how many times did the site tell you they were updating their privacy policy and you opted to skip the details of what that meant?

    “Mom, didn’t you see that picture yourself before? That was just Jamie and me playing around. You know we’re just friends.”

    “Yes, I thought it was nothing. But, those friends of your aunts talk a lot, and they do seem very convinced. I looked at the picture again and it got me thinking.” Her tone gets conspiratorial again. “Are you dating Jamie? I’d have nothing against it. Your father, though…” You block the headset mic to hide your exasperated sigh, and then interrupt before she can finish the thought.

    “We’re not close, mom, not like that. My aunts and their friends are making up stories.” You wonder how scrutinized any future pictures you post will be. Maybe you should restrict how much of your profile your mom can access. You’ll have to figure out the new privacy settings first.

    “Yes, fine, you’re right. I’m simply saying they sounded convinced, is all.” You can almost picture her busying herself with some chores at home to prove that she’s over it. And yet she adds, “I will say, though, that if you were with Jamie, I’d be very supportive. Jamie’s lovely, and would be lucky to have you.”

    You hide another exasperated sigh and change the topic. When she’s had her fill of catching up, your mom says goodbye and you hang up.

    You sit in the cafe, your mouth contorted in contemplation save for when you sip from your cup. You thought you were good at keeping your personal and online lives separate, but thanks to dubious algorithms and out-of-touch inquirers, your agency at work has been diminished and your sexuality is being questioned by people who’d be less than understanding. Even if you restrict who gets access to your information, what little slips through the cracks is still interpreted without context. Is that what the internet is now? For people to be data-mined so other people can make assumptions? Who wanted it that way?

    Your phone sets off with another notification, informing you that a local indoor plant store has followed you online. They specialize in succulents.

    You almost laugh out loud at the insanity of it. Of course; this hunt for data is mostly the hunt for ad revenue. While it’s a marvel how fervently someone on the other side of the screen wants to believe they understand you, advertisers are the ones who set the system up. And even they can’t seem to get it right!

    The fever of frustration breaks, giving way to a fever of defiance. Why leave room to be misinterpreted? You decide to live your online life unabashedly and unafraid to share all. Will someone be tracking your moves? You don’t care, but if they are you hope they can keep up.

    You grab your phone and browse with fury and determination. You share news articles and let your political leanings lay bare as you never had before. You hit “publish” on every dumb joke and inane thought you had previously hid shamefully as drafts. You post all of the pictures in your phone, and when you’re done with those you take a couple more. You follow musicians, actors, and influencers alike, so that no one would have to guess what your tastes are. You join in as many forum conversations as you can, and only stop when a person you’re arguing with, who has an anime-girl profile picture, threatens to dox you. You log off.

    When you finally get home you’re bleary eyed from unblinking browsing and shaky from the excess of caffeine. You want nothing more than to decompress. As you turn on your TV to search for something to stream and zone out to, you call out to your virtual assistant device and say, “Play something soothing.”

    Though your command was vague, as the speakers turn on they start playing exactly what you only now realize you had in mind. You love this band, even if you hadn’t thought of them in a while. Your phone goes off with a notification that this band has a concert coming up soon. As if on instinct triggered by serendipity, you click the notification to buy tickets.

    While browsing various streaming services on your TV you come across several documentaries that you’ve heard confirm a lot of opinions you’ve had on the state of things. While you’d love to be proven correct, you’re more in the mood for something light. You wonder if they have this one funny movie that’s a reboot of a movie that’s based on a book. Before you can remember the title you see it listed. You hit play.

    Ultimately, modern movie watching entails being on your phone, so you scroll through whatever new content was uploaded on your commute home. While you idly browse, you find another tailored ad, this time for a t-shirt boldly claiming that people born the same month as you are kind yet shouldn’t be messed with, each line in a different garish font.

    “Ha,” you laugh to yourself, “what a stupid ad.” Even after all the data you gave them, advertisers are no better than your manager or your aunts, thinking they know you and what’s best for you.

    Suddenly the page you’re on refreshes. What loads first is the ad, this time for a different shirt that’s admittedly more your style. The tagline reads, “Your life, your look.” Unsettled by the coincidence and feeling like you’ve found yourself in a conversation with your phone you didn’t know you were having, you try to click on a different link. More content loads just at that moment, though, shifting the layout of the page and leading you to click on the ad instead. Surprised, you fumble with your phone to close what’s popped up, but as your panicked fingers slip your phone decides you mean to go through with the order. You adjust your hold on your phone but somehow manage to set off a biometric scan that confirms the purchase.

    As if queued by your consumerist momentum, an ad interrupts the movie you’re watching (since when did this streaming service have ads?). The volume seems to increase on its own as the TV blares at you.

    “You don’t necessarily feel you age, so why look your age? Our skin cream can miraculously take 5 years off your face, letting your inner youth shine through.” The ad shows a model before and after using the cream. It makes a specific point of telling you the model’s age, which is your age.

    You search frantically for the remote to turn the volume down. No matter what angle you point the remote at it, the TV refuses to recognize your button pushing. You get up and simply turn off the TV manually. This gives your virtual assistant device space to chime in with a separate ad.

    “Tired of the long commute to your workplace? Find more free time while moving into one of the fastest growing neighbourhoods that’s perfect for you.” The voice emanating from your speakers describes listings in a building that you recognize is half a block away from your office. You run to unplug the device.

    One by one more “smart” appliances in your home, devices that you now question their need for internet connectivity, begin to play or display ads that were made to appeal to you exactly.

    “Our energy efficient windows fit your green lifestyle!” your thermostat boasts, citing a climate change article you just read.

    “Let us deliver the groceries you need for the recipes you love!” your fridge demands, listing off your actual favourite recipes.

    “Bzzt!” vibrates your electric toothbrush, calling you to look at its charger’s digital screen and see an ad for a dental clinic, featuring a close up of a mouth you’re weirdly certain is actually yours.

    As your apartment comes alive with the sounds of aggressive advertising, you’re terrified. You step out onto the balcony. You think to yourself, and only to yourself, that you need to get away.

    A delivery drone floats up from under your balcony and stops right at your eye level. It’s been outfitted with a display monitor. It plays a video.

    “Looking for a vacation?” it asks. “Why not fly out to Pasadena, California? You can visit the Cactus & Succulent Society of America’s annual show and sale!”

[novadust86]

The Best Laid plans - ch3

Chapter 3: Summer from Hell

Harry lay on his bed atop the threadbear blanket, his head resting on a pillow that had lost all of its bounce as he stared up at the ceiling. He was not having a good day. Hell, he wasn’t having a good summer at all. After his uncle had collected him off the train the ‘summer of hell’ had started almost straight away, with Vernon informing Harry that his sister, the woman Harry had been forced to call aunt Marge, was at the house. Apparently, after something had gone wrong with her plumbing it had revealed that some emergency work was needed on her house, so while the work was being done aunt Marge had invited herself to stay.

This had not left aunt Petunia happy. His aunt had entered Harry's rose bushes in some local garden competition (he refused to call them aunt Petunia's rose's in his head as he was the one who did all the work before he started Hogwarts). Marge had brought her prized bulldog 'Ripper’ with her and Ripper seemed to be deeply offended by the flowers and was doing his best to defile them. Uncle Vernon had then taken great delight in telling Harry of the rules for the summer, as well as how he had told Marge that his “no good, pathetic excuse for a nephew” was so bad he had been sent to 'St Brutus’ school for incurably criminal boys’, and, specifically, that if Harry so much as hinted at anything else his uncle would make him regret it.

---ϟϟϟ---

Uncle Vernon pulled the car onto the driveway. The two got out of the car without talking only to find Harry’s ‘Aunt’ Marge standing on the doorstep. She was very like Uncle Vernon; large, beefy and purple-faced, she even had a mustache, though not as bushy as his.’*

She started in on Harry before he even got to the front door, “so your back are you?” Not even waiting for a reply, she continued on, this time to her brother, “why even let the boy out Vernon? Surely that 'school’ is the best place for him?” Her less than subtle emphasis on the word school left no doubt that she was referring to the ridiculous fabrication of his uncle. “Teacher's need time off”, Vernon replied gruffly as he opened the boot for Harry to retrieve his trunk.

“What's in the trunk boy?” Aunt Marge demand, obviously looking for something to criticize, “Oh...Um...just my school things. School uniform, homework, paper, pens...that sort of thing.” Harry replied, automatically concentrating more on getting the heavy trunk out of the car then having a less than pleasant conversation with his aunt. Marge mulled that over for a few moments, looking for something else to scold, but evidently coming home from a boarding school with luggage and homework was expected. So, Aunt Marge fell back on her favorite insult, which was also a favourite of the two Dursley adults. Namely, calling him lazy and questioning his work ethic. “Well, you best take your trunk up to your room! No excuses for not getting your homework done! At least while you are doing that you aren’t off trying to break into cars or whatever it is you do!”

Harry froze and looked at his uncle. He knew Vernon didn't want him to have his school things, he didn't want Harry to do his homework. But, most of all, he didn't want Harry to have access to his wand. Not that Harry's wand was in his trunk. After everything that had happened the last two years, he had owl ordered a wand holster, and as such his wand was stuck to his arm and hidden with a perception filter charm. “Don't go looking to your uncle for help, boy! Get that trunk upstairs now!” His uncle, now standing behind Marge, nodded and mouthed 'for now’. Harry guessed that he couldn't think of an excuse on the spot to lock Harry's trunk away and had decided to pretend it was perfectly normal until he could think up something that wouldn't leave his sister suspicious.

---ϟϟϟ---

After that, there had been the start of the whole thing with Hedwig. While Marge had accepted Vernon's excuse that at Brutus’ they required pets to teach the boys responsibility, she still complained that her bulldog Ripper didn't like birds and that he was ‘sensitive’. Sensitive was apparently code for 'evil little shit', at least that was Harry’s opinion. He’d taken Hedwig straight to his room and set up a perch for her by removing the bars from her cage. It was crude but serviceable.  He had just gone downstairs to ask Vernon if there were any old newspapers he could line her cage with ,(there were always some as his uncle was an avid reader of the Daily Express. Harry however, always remembered what he heard a comedian say about it once "well at least they are true to their advertising, the paper is daily and clearly written in a hurry), when there was a huge racket from his bedroom.

Ripper had snuck into Harry's room when Harry left the door open and was trying to jump up on top of the wardrobe where Hedwig had retreated to avoid the snapping jaws of her attacker. Harry grabbed the dog to pull it out of the room and away from his owl. He had been able to pull the dog out but had received a bite on his right arm for his trouble. The door now closed and Hedwig safe, Harry now turned his attention solely to keeping Ripper's teeth from ripping into him again. This was not as quiet he’d hoped, as evidenced by the three sets of feet thundering up the stairs.

Harry felt sick just thinking about their reactions. First up the stars had been his uncle, who just stood there watching. Marge came next and the bitch fucking laughed and encouraged the dog. It wasn't until aunt Petunia had seen the blood that she said anything. But, not surprisingly, it wasn't to protect Harry, no, she was more concerned about Harry getting blood on the carpet.

God, He hated it here.

Aunt Petunia threw a toilet roll and a Crepe Bandage at him and told him to make sure not to get blood everywhere. Harry retreated to his room and sat on the bed. He made two pads out of the toilet paper, one for each side of his arm, and held them in place with the bandage. His arm seen to, it was time to strengthen out the room. He reset Hedwig's cage, then set about the task of coaxing her down off the wardrobe. Seeing his friend so shaken, Harry held her close, "It’s Ok Hedwig, it's Ok. I promise I won't let him hurt you. Only a few more weeks before we can get out of this shithole."

---ϟϟϟ---

The next few weeks had been filled with cooking, cleaning, dodging his cousin (who’d arrived back from smeltings the next day), and trying to do something to help the roses survive Ripper. This was easier than it might have been, as the dog had stopped caring about the roses. Instead, the bulldog was constantly camped outside Harry door trying to get in at Hedwig. Harry had been bitten three times more by the dog so far and he seriously doubted it would be his last this summer.

If that wasn't enough, he was seriously missing Hermione. To be fair, he was missing any friendly contact. His friendship with Ron was strained and almost everyone else cared little for Harry, only for the-boy-who-lived, some mythical hero they’d built up to some impossible standard that no one could ever live up to, let alone a small, underwhelming and bespectacled boy. All this and the fact that Hermione filled both the role of best friend and girlfriend meant that Harry was feeling rather alone.

It hadn't helped that since becoming a couple the two of them had been practically inseparable, never spending more than ten hours away from each other, even if most of that time they were asleep. It wasn't entirely their fault; they eat their food in the same hall, went to the same classes, studied in the same library and relaxed and slept in the same tower. Even when they weren't working together or chatting they tended to be in the same space. The only real time they spent truly apart was when Harry was practicing quidditch (Hermione only went to games, not practices) or when Harry was forced to go to classes while Hermione had been stuck in the hospital wing, once from the polyjuice and once from that bloody great big snake.

Even when Hermione had been petrified he had made his way to the hospital wing each day, telling Hermione about the classes he had had that day, then reading more of her books to her on the off chance she could hear him. Staying till Madame Pomfrey kicked him out for the day. He still wasn’t sure if Madam Pomfrey let him stay for Hermione's benefit or his own. He definitely felt, well...not better, but less helpless as he sat there reading the ‘The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy’ series to her. Just thinking of Hermione in that state lead his mind to another dark place. He couldn’t believe that Hermione had had the answer in her hand and that he had spent days sitting next to it the whole time. That damned snake, he wanted to bring it back to life just so he could kill it again for what it had done. The thought of that it sent phantom pains through the crux of his right elbow, a remembered pain of the venom burning its way into his flesh.

God, he hated summer.

---ϟϟϟ---

July 31st 

Harry awoke on his birthday like it was any other day at Privet Drive, with his aunt banging on the door and telling him to go cook breakfast. Harry wasn't surprised if he was lucky no one would say anything about him now being officially a teenager. Then he could pretend they had just forgotten, instead of deliberately doing it to hurt him.

He finished getting dressed; pulling on a lumpy old pair of Dudley's socks that he had grown out of about two years ago, a ratty old pair of trainers that he had grown out of at about the same time. Then he was off to cook enough bacon and fried eggs to feed a small platoon, or just three Dursleys. Aunt Petunia would have just tea and toast with whatever spread she chose that morning, if she stuck to her pattern.

Harry grabbed a package of 24 slices of British back bacon from the fridge, laying out the whole pack on the grilling rack and starting them to cook. He set the largest cast iron skillet on the hob, adding what he considered an obsessive amount of lard to the pan and set it on low heat. He put four slices of bread in the toaster, two cans of beans in a tub in the microwave and filled the kettle to boil the water for tea and coffee. Aunt Petunia as always was the first to come down, and her tea was already in the teapot and her toast cooking when she sat at the table.

“Marmite.” No please, no thanks, just the one word. Not that Harry expected anything else as he grabbed the tar-like paste from the fridge, setting it next to the plate that was waiting for his aunt's toast. Soon everyone was down and the Dursleys were eating. Breakfast done, Harry made his way upstairs, finally able to take care of needing the bathroom and brushing his teeth. As he cleaned his teeth he smiled to himself, thinking of the lecture Hermione had given him on dental hygiene.

It was rather an interesting topic that showed the difference between Muggle and Magical cultures. Muggles couldn't really fix teeth, they could only add a hard substance to fake a tooth being there, such as fillings and false teeth. So muggles focused on prevention, pastes and brushes to stop there being a problem in the future. Magical folk, however, they just used charms to keep their mouths smelling and tasting fine. This did nothing to remove the problem though, but if a witch or wizard had a bad tooth that was easy enough to fix; just vanish the tooth and down a shot of Skele-Gro. 6 hours later and they have a new, perfectly healthy tooth.

Harry made his way back to the kitchen to clean up after breakfast and to see if there were any leftovers so that he could eat this morning. To his surprise, there were two pieces of bacon and a slice of toast. Hardly a feast but plenty for him. He cleaned up the plates and mugs and grabbed the plate with the toast and bacon on it to put it on top of the pile of dishes he was taking back to the kitchen.

“One second, Harry” He froze at Aunt Marge's words, hesitated for a second then turned back to her. She smiled at Harry, then took the bacon and folded the toast around it and fed it to the dog in her lap. She had done this on purpose, she had left the food there till he had seen it, just so she could take it away in front of him. Harry wanted to scream, he wanted to shout, he wanted to take the pile of dishes he was carrying and smash them over her fucking head. But, he knew that was exactly what she wanted. Instead, he did the only thing he could to strike out at her. He denied her the confrontation she wanted by smiling at her, somewhat viciously, “anything else Aunt Marge?”

---ϟϟϟ---

Later the same day

Aunt Marge definitely wasn’t happy with how things went at breakfast. She had been pushing all day to get a rise out of Harry, ramping up the pressure each time. Now the Dursleys were sitting down to dinner, again cooked by Harry. Dudley had had the brilliant idea to get at Harry; he’d asked for shepherd’s pie and treacle tart for dinner. This was probably Harry's favorite meal, and despite the fact that both dishes were of the classic British variety; namely heavy, rich, hot and very filling and an absolute godsend when it was cold and wet, they were being consumed in the totally unsuited summer heat. So they sat there eating Harry's favorite meal, while Harry hasn't had a bite of food all-day on this thirteenth birthday.

Then there was the dinner conversation he had to listen to, “You mustn’t blame yourself for the way the boy’s turned out, Vernon”, Marge said between shoveling meat and potatoes into her mouth, “If there’s something rotten on the inside, there’s nothing anyone can do about it.” Harry's hands shook even as his face remained impassive though he longed to burn them with his anger, and magic. She wanted him to fight. He had to keep his cool. Don’t rise to it, “It’s one of the basic rules of breeding,” she continued on, definitely oblivious to Harry’s rising temper, “You see it all the time with dogs. If there’s something wrong with the bitch, there’ll be something wrong with the pup.”

How fucking dare she! She had never even met his mother, the woman who had literally given up everything, including her life, for Harry. Aunt Marge reached for her glass of wine, only to have the glass explode in her hand, the shards of glass cutting into her flesh. Harry watched as blood began to ooze from numerous small cut on the inside of her hand. Luckily, Marge just laughed it off, “Sorry about your glass Petunia. I have a strong grip. Let me just go sort my hand out. BOY! Clean up the glass, if even one shard ends up in my poor Rippy’s paw there will be hell to pay.

Her threat finished, she left for the upstairs bathroom, her hellhound in step behind her. As soon as she was out of sight, Vernon turned on Harry. “You dare use your abnormality to attack my sister!?” He was out of his chair and was pulling off his belt. “I di-didn't”, Harry stuttered, “T-that wasn't me.” The belt was in Vernon’s hands now, “BULLSHIT! I know your freakishness when I see it”, Harry had backed into a corner of the room trying to put as much distance between him and his raging uncle as the room allowed. Searing pain flashed over Harry's back and shoulder as the strip of black leather found its mark. Again and again, the blows fell onto Harry's left side, feeling like it was on fire as uncounted blood vessels where broken under the improvised whip.

Harry cowered in the corner, trying to react as little as possible to the beating, though some tears and pained moans still escaped from him. He had learned over the years that they were longer if he screamed. Then everything changed.

There was a loud screech of pain and everyone stopped. It wasn't Harry's scream. It wasn't even on this floor of the house and, it wasn't human. “HEDWIG!” The blood drained from Harry's face. Now he could see what had happened; Marge had broken the glass on purpose. She had done it so that Harry would be busy cleaning while she went upstairs and let Ripper into his room where Hedwig was sleeping.

Harry got up and tried to rush to the stairs, only to be grabbed by his uncle. His uncle opened his mouth to start yet another of his verbal tirades, though unfortunately for Vernon Harry was now too focused on his owl that he was no longer concerned with holding his power in check. As a result of delaying the desperate boy, Vernon was relocated to the far side of the room, where he suddenly found himself being reintroduced to his wall with a sickening pop and crack from his shoulder and arm.

Harry was up the stairs in a flash. He tried to push open his door, Hedwig's continued screechs calling him to help, but the door wouldn't open. He tried again but the door wouldn't budge. Then he saw it; Aunt Marge had locked one of the seven locks that were on the door, a relic of the last summer Harry had spent in this hellhole. She had also added a padlock. Harry's mind raged and his power responded, rushing out to unblock his path, exploding the door and some of the surrounding masonry that was keeping him from Hedwig.

If Harry had been paying attention, he would have seen Marge standing in the bathroom, the door wide open, watching. The sadistic women wearing the biggest shit-eating grin she had ever worn. As Harry pulled on the door to try and get in finding it locked she mouthed the words “got you”. Her triumph, however, was soon replaced by terror as at a gesture from Harry, the door exploded into shrapnel. Shrapnel that resembled matchsticks more than anything else and was suddenly filling the landing.

The sight that greeted Harry as the door disintegrated chilled him to the bone. Hedwig's pale white feathers were scattered around the room, her blood staining them, the ruby crimson standing out all the more due to the contrast. And there, in the middle of the room, a screeching Hedwig, her wing trapped in the jaws of her attacker.

Harry couldn't have held back if he tried, Hedwig wasn't just his pet and post owl. She was a magical creature and his familiar. And part of that bond was that his magic couldn't stand by and let her be hurt. While a more experienced wizard may have been able to direct the response more, Harry, with only two years of education under his belt, was just along for the ride. Harry felt the power in him flow, reaching out towards the dog, prying its jaws off the injured wing and freeing his friend. The offending mut was then thrown across the room through the door and into the opposite wall with a meaty thunk, where it slumped to the floor, never again to rise.

Seeing her prized bulldog stud die so suddenly cut through Marge's shock, fear and the rational parts of her brain. Marge charged at Harry, intending to hurt him for what he had done to her dog. But Harry still hadn't regained control of his magic yet. In fact, he was so worried about Hedwig he hadn't even tried. Hell, he was so worried about her, he didn't even know that he was being attacked. He would later find out that he had stuck his aunt to the ceiling with some accidental magic variation of a permanent sticking charm.

Harry now cradled his friend in his arms, tears freely flowing at the state of her wing. He stood, keeping Hedwig in his arms and just started walking, down the stairs, out the door, down the street. He had only a vague plan. Find a vet, get Hedwig to Diagon alley, there had to be someone there who could help. The problem was, without Hedwig he couldn't call for help from anyone. He had little Muggle money and he was down to his last 5 gallons till he got to Gringotts. He would use the Muggle money to get as close to London as possible. Then he would try and get the rest of the way as fast as he could, even if he had to walk.

He really needed Hermione right now. Hermione would know what to do. There would be a public floo access she had read about or a post owl office that he could use to call for help. Hermione would also probably know a better place to take Hedwig than a magical pet shop. Right now he just needed help.

It was then that Harry's magic decided to pull one more trick out of its hat tonight. He felt the flow of his power as it surrounded him, then started crushing him into a ball. Not painfully, but definitely not comfortable. Later, when Harry heard about Apparition training and the three D's, he would always add his own fourth; destination, determination, deliberation and lastly, desperation. He would also realize that he was incredibly lucky that all he left behind was his shirt, and not some part of himself.

That was how Harry appeared in the Grangers’ dining Room, covered in belt marks, bruising and dog bites. Nothing to hide it from the three sitting down to dinner, but an owl with a mangled wing and her blood that was covering him. Seeing the one person who he thought could help Harry relaxed, “Hermione.”

“Harry?!” With that one word from Hermione's lips, all the will and adrenaline that was keeping Harry going, allowing him to push forward despite the lack of food and heavy use of magic gave way and Harry's last act of will was to turn as he fell, ensuring that Hedwig would land atop him, not the other way around, as he slipped into unconsciousness.

---ϟϟϟ---

Author’s Notes

From now on, all flashbacks will be in italics, so that you’ll be able to see that it’s not at the same time as the story.

ok, I admit I hated myself a little when I had Harry made that promise to Hedwig knowing what was going to happen. I originally intended for ripper and marge to put up a stronger fight at the end of the chapter but this felt more right as I wrote it.

a few small parts are lifted directly from the prisoner of Azkaban

P.S props to anyone who can name the comedian who made the Daily Express joke I used.

chapters 1-45 are avalable on https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13294547/1/The-Best-Laid-Plans and https://archiveofourown.org/works/18862810/chapters/44770174

[skinfeeler]

between good posts, miscellaneous aesthetic content, and astounding selfies, sometimes the mask slips and it becomes obvious that i am an extraordinarily troubled person. why? well, there are many reasons. but i can give you a microcosm from the sort of things that are done to me to make me this way, even by other trans women.

this is a vaguepost about me with zero notes. let’s break it down! but before we break it down, let’s take it at face value. the kind of picture she’s painting here insinuates that perhaps i horribly mistreated her and then, in HAL fashion, made sure she was exiled from all the communities we shared using vague accusations and extremely loaded language. something like that.

factually, the opposite happened. we’re all familiar with reversal of accusations done by people who hold power over these they hurt, aren’t we? so here are the disturbing and crude circumstances from which this disgusting screed emerged:

we initially shared an online space together. at some point we started conversing privately. as almost the first thing she said to me, she confided to me that she used to hate women like me: brash. assertive. confident. self-loving. not afraid to take up space or to refuse to put up with mistreatment. the product of a ceaseless struggle against conditioning to let people exploit me, abuse me. one of two directions each trans woman can take, the other one to become fragile and let oneself stay fragile.

she said that once she met me and got to know me, she dropped this worldview and seemed embarrassed she ever held it. in response, i, simply grateful to not have someone reject me for being the wrong kind of trans woman — an etymological baeddel, if you will — told her that i understood, since i know people like me aren’t allowed to exist. i wish i hadn’t.

because she didn’t drop it forever. she only dropped it conditionally.

we had a dalliance of sorts, and eventually it turned out to be deeply unhealthy for both of us, so i broke it off for both our sakes. i told her that it was probably for the best that we ‘stopped talking’, by which i meant to not contact me individually and to refrain from using group environments specifically to solicit me. i hoped that this reduction of contact, while making room to share the same spaces, would be better for both of us than our unhealthy and mutually damaging association.

then soon after day her girlfriend who shared the same space and who i still spoke to told me — as part of a larger diatribe concerning a reciprocally harmful situation — the following.“It’s ridiculous - it’s a completely irresponsible way to handle a sitution with someone you're supposed to share a community with. You completely disposed of her. You forced her out.”

alongside this, a series of quotes from hot allostatic load on her blog, very clearly meant for me.

apparently respect for the dignity of trans women like me ceased the moment i denied someone access to me— respect from her, and the people i thought were close to me but who were apparently still quite willing to suddenly assume the worst when i was simply trying to set boundaries. i wasn’t setting boundaries as a real trans woman may be entitled to, i was forcing people out, i was made the aggressor simply for daring to set boundaries based on a prior judgement that was made the moment people met me and the way i talk, the particular trauma responses i have. what might be praised in a more feminine and mild-mannered (trans) woman was in me, proof of guilt and evil.

it didn’t matter what actually happened, what exactly both of us respectively did to each other. what mattered is how she felt. how she felt aggressed against by the wrong kind of trans women daring to deny her access to her body and person.

other people got involved and other conflicts got aggravated. she kept stoking the fires— other situations, if they were resolvable beforehand, weren’t because of the poison she put in people’s heads about me. through all of this, neither she nor her girlfriend were ever in the slightest genuinely repentant for the way they made it difficult for me to set boundaries.

all of this happened in the acute aftermath of me being raped in an alleyway — an event they had knowledge of — during the few months after. i was so, so carefully trying out if it was even possible for me to be intimate with others. it was, briefly, until i pulled out, until i told people that i felt violated by things that happened.

and all of that, all of my attempts to set boundaries and to protest against violations committed, were not even met with direct answers or where not possible, dignified resignations to that fact and attempts to atone. instead, what happened is that they leveled narratives at their friends and girlfriends until they felt so overwhelmed that people refused to sincerely listen to my side of things and i was put in a position where all i was to do to make amends for my own actions, with everyone else completely protected. i was told people are very upset, that i had made them feel very bad, and this hurt is what ended up mattering, not what they did to me.

it broke me, for some time. i behaved disrespectfully and harmfully to a number of people in the months after. i was in such an aggravated state of trauma from having it be repeatedly proven to me that my body is fair game for anyone’s carnal drives that i was oblivious to the ways that i was exhausting people by trying to play politics in a vain attempt to get some recognition for what happened to me and how it was enabled, facilitated by both perpetrators and others in that space.

and then, eventually, after months of building tension and stress which nobody felt able to resolve, nothing could have happened but that i was forced out of the one space where i was told that the bad kind of trans woman could belong and be treated well, too.

that we could ‘build alternatives’ to the traumatic things that are done to us and then do to ‘each other’ (although really, just to those among us who aren’t deemed worthy of protection).

---

i do not believe she is actually a predator— i am not from an english-speaking country, and my throwaway post in which i said “no sympathy for sex pests who got rejected months ago and still whine about it” was based on an understanding that it meant someone who harmed others in the context of sexual interactions, but not necessarily an actual ‘predator’, insofar that essentialist, individual, reactionary idea of one who does harm actually holds meaning to me. certainly she is not as bad as actual literal alleyway rapists, not that it is fair or reasonable to have it fall to me to reassure anyone of that.

however, she is oblivious to the fact that reacting to people setting boundaries in this way and that projecting transmisogyny on them along the lines she did damages their ability to set boundaries in the future, especially since i was recently raped, which she and everyone else involved knew about. she’s not a predator, but her behavior chipped away at my ability to set boundaries and is completely irreverent of them regardless of context or intent. most consent guides have vile things to say about those who hear that they hurt others, freak out in an emotionally incontinent way and make it everyone else’s problem instead of working towards taking responsibility. unfortunately, she made it so that this behavior ended up being enabled and rewarded, simply because the way in which she was violent is not seen as violence by many in our circles.

i stopped taking progesterone. i refused to be intimate with people. i wanted to be sexless and recoiled at all expressions of attraction from others, experiencing them as a prelude to violation since i couldn’t conceive of people being into me and acting on that in a way that wouldn’t end up humiliating, traumatising, heartbreaking. i didn’t feel like i could exist with other people anymore, and believed that never, ever would i be treated in an equitable way where my hurt matters just as much as theirs.

i don’t want to be sanctified over my own mistakes i just want to get treated as all the other people who made awful, horrible ones— i wasn’t, people refused to level with me about it until they had already made up their minds about me and cut me off first individually, then collectively. i was treated as a perpetrator by default.

even with what i did and my role in all of this, i did not deserve to be treated this way.

---

i didn’t make any actual threats. what i did was the following.

if i don’t stop it from happening, a payload of information about the actions and identities of people who violated my boundaries will be released, with the understanding that this only happens if i don’t periodically reset a timer when it will be uploaded, with the understanding that this will only happen if i die. this gives me some sort of comfort that if i kill myself, i’ll at least get to finally have the voice which people with immense amounts of social capital are preventing me from having, inadvertently or on purpose. if all of this kills me, does she really believe she deserves to get away with it, my voice forever lost?

i also made a post that next time someone forces me into something i don’t want, i won’t freeze up— if it is a physical situation, i know i will fight back and win against someone literally sexually assaulting me, that is what the post was about! that’s not even something she wants (presumably). so to make this out as some threat against her is frankly preposterous, and i can’t really find any way to take it as another cynical attempt to portray me as the wrong kind of tranny: the one without a lithe body and who doesn’t perform a fetishisation of her own (pretended) lack of power over others well enough, with the wrong set of traumatic personality alterations.

---

allow me to end with a few choice screenshots from this person’s blog, and an ask she sent me to circumvent my block on discord.

what’s the deal with people who have a certain access to feminine fragility (cis women, certain kinds of trans women) and comparing people to their abusive fathers?

stop postmodernising about my boundaries. please.

what’s worse? ending something awful for both of us as well within my entitlements, or circumventing a block in order to chastise me for it as a prelude to unleashing the full power of the whisper network? i guess all things are fine when the first is done by a trans woman who can deadlift 1.5x her bodyweight and the second is done by a trans woman who prides herself on being sensitive and who is just so easy to hurt— not like she has plenty of means to passively aggress or cut trans women like me off from their support networks, murder them in a thousand ways which our community sanctifies, which is exactly what she did, both while we knew each other and after.

this, for months and months and months. making me wonder what the next way she will hurt me is going to be.

---

it is a genuine relief to hear that this person never wanted to see me again. because of her behavior, i was under the distinct impression she wanted me back in some sense. you may see why when you look at all these strange attempts to undermine the boundaries she knows i struggle to maintain.

all this talk invoking the concept of radical transformative justice after she did her best to escalate situations to get me exiled simply because i didn’t want to have a personal, individual association with her. it’s not enough for her that she managed to get rid of me, me daring to feel hurt by it is another violation of the values that were supposed to prevent what happened to me from happening, in fact, me feeling hurt is portrayed as worse as what she did to hurt me, and as invalidating any demand i have at all to be treated with any dignity or receive any defense or protection from anyone at all, simply because of the way it made her feel that i dared to be hurt by what she did.

what matters is what happened. what matters is what people did. what matters is what factually happened, not transmisogynistic interpretations of it, forgotten at convenience by the people who were there. what matters is who is decided to be worthy or unworthy of protection, who is actually capable of being hurt instead of considered unrapeable, unviolable, invulnerable and dangerous for it, which frankly, seems what patterns of ‘disposability’ always seem to revolve around. it is disturbing that this language was invoked to ironically, argue the status of my body as public property at pain of isolation.

what matters is power, and statements like “i don’t hate you” are cheap from those who will always have the social capital to hurt me like this so long as the gendered heuristics of the circles we share remain hegemonic.

[homespork-review]

Homespork Act 4, Part 1: Blight of the Paradox Clones

BRIGHT: Act 4 opens on a loading sequence titled ‘GATE 1’, and then there’s a short pan down through firefly-dotted clouds to a dim blue landscape called the Land of Wind and Shade. John manifests at ground-level and it’s time for another walk-around game!

The icon in the upper right corner opens a conversation with Nannasprite, who’s still back in the house. Apparently she can’t accompany John around the Land, but she can certainly give him puzzling half-answers to any questions he might have. John asks her point-blank if she was always cryptic and evasive or if that’s a sprite thing, but she predictably avoids answering.

John wanders around the Land, getting into fights with (oddly non-aggressive) imps for grist. The Land is very atmospheric, with glowing blue mushrooms and odd pipes everywhere. It’s also inhabited by large, excitable, bipedal orange salamanders who blow bubbles and dispense information about the Land. One of them has acquired John’s bedsheets and is now calling itself a wizard.

A salamander standing by one of the pipes explains that it’s called a Parcel Pyxis. If you need something, you can chisel a picture of whatever it is into a stone tablet and drop it into a Parcel Pyxis. If you find a tablet, and you have what’s carved into it, it’s polite to drop it into the Pyxis and the Breeze will take it where it needs to go. (Just what the Breeze is isn’t explained yet, but given the name of the Land, it’s fair to assume an explanation will be forthcoming in due time, and it’s thematically consistent.)

While wandering, John finds a telescope. Looking through it, he sees his house, perched waaaaaay at the top of a very tall, very narrow rocky crag. He also finds a very large pipe sunk into the ground. He can hear something very, very big breathing at the bottom.

There are definite pros and cons to these games, but on the whole I like them. They’re more immersive than the usual comic panels, and it’s nice to do some self-directed wandering. On the other hand, it’s easy to miss something in a walk-around game, which hardly ever happens with comic panels…

FAILURE ARTIST: The Salamanders crack me up. Good parody of NPC chatter.

CHEL: Comic panels of the walkaround are included later on, so if you really hate the games you can read it straightforwardly.

John is confused by now being below his house when he went through a portal above it; Nanna cryptically claims that “To ascend, you must first descend!”

BRIGHT: With the game out of the way (it doesn’t really have a defined end point), we return to normal comic panels — and also to the future. AR is embroiled in a shootout with the snakes from PM’s ship, which are now firing laser beams. A stray blast decapitates the frog temple. AR returns fire with a rocket launcher. His first shot takes out the snake. The second knocks WV flying. WV lands behind a rock, and the carved pumpkin lands on his head. AR lines up his next shot...and pauses.

The carved image of Bec’s head seems to mean something to AR, because he immediately ceases fire and comes down to start yelling at WV. This turns out to be a poor move on his part: PM still has her sword, and she is not pleased.

I really, really like PM as a character. She has no dialogue whatsoever and still projects massive amounts of integrity.

The comic returns to Jade. She’s retrieved Dave’s Sburb discs from the time capsule, which is clearly going to move the plot along...

Looks like the TIME CAPSULE has reset itself. It is sprouting a new bud. Presumably something else will come out when it blooms again in about 400 years. Too bad you won't be around to find out what it is!

...aaaaaaand we go into sylladex shenanigans again.

I will say this for sylladex tomfoolery: It absolutely can break up tension and provide some lighter stretches in the plot. The problem is that these don’t always feel natural. I find them less annoying now and can appreciate the humour, but they really bugged me the first time around.

Still, Jade’s use of her sylladex does at least speak to her character.

Jade eventually settles on Pictionary modus, which means she has to draw a picture of whatever she wants to captchalogue. If she doesn’t have the drawn item to hand, her modus instead captures a “ghost image” of the item on a card, complete with alchemiter code. Handy! Unfortunately the modus has some trouble understanding Jade’s drawings, interpreting her picture of her eclectic bass as a regular electric bass.

Bec then catches up and teleports Jade back to her room. In a demonstration of unusual good sense, Jade promptly gets on with installing the Sburb Beta.

Back in the Land of Wind and Shade, John pesters Rose to ask if she’s here on the other side of the gate, in the “spooky glowy place with oily rivers and stuff”. She doesn’t respond. He does however get pestered by Jade, who is now awake and therefore fully aware of what Sburb is (much to John’s confusion). She tells him to go get his copy of the game so he can be her server player. John is convinced Jade is psychic, but she tells him that he has access to all the information she does, he just doesn’t know it yet.

Meanwhile, Dave is also trying to get in touch with Rose, also to no effect. Jade pesters him and they have a cute conversation in which Jade forgets how a reference goes, but Dave assures her she got it anyway. She tells him she’s setting up as his server player and shows him a picture of the meteor aimed at his house. There are no size comparison points available but Jade assures him that it’s really, really big.

TG: well as if like one the size of a bus wouldnt kill me anyway

FAILURE ARTIST: Dave describes his beating from his Guardian as “i got served like a dude on butler island” and Jade says it’s “(DRAMA DRAMA DRAMA)”. It’s hard to take the abuse seriously when none of the characters do.

ARE YOU TRYING TO BE FUNNY?: 14

BRIGHT: In the Medium, John is getting pestered by carcinoGeneticist again. We now have a picture icon for CG. Look familiar? Yup, it’s the guy from the end of the Intermission.

So I guess this is the first time in the main comic that we get confirmed, visual proof that the trolls are aliens? It’s hard to point to, since the trolls get introduced gradually.

I’ve no idea how this was received in fandom when it first happened, but by the time I got to Homestuck, the fact that the trolls were grey folks with horns was probably the most famous feature of the canon, so...not so much of an impact. Still pretty cool though.

FAILURE ARTIST: I wish I could remember how the fandom took it.

The trolls in these early acts make a big deal all the time about how they are alien and the kids are human. It’s an amusing parody of the way aliens act in fiction but it is weird when the trolls become actual characters and we find out their psychology is surprisingly human most of the time.

CHEL: Hence the WHITE SBURB POSTMODERNISM count. That’ll spike later.

BRIGHT: CG is unexpectedly friendly this time. Apparently he’s been trolling John backwards through time, which is frustrating as each earlier John knows less and less, so CG keeps having to repeat himself. (Which...doesn’t make much sense? He’d have to explain more obvious stuff, sure, but John would remember things he was told in later-from-CG’s-perspective conversations, so...ugh, time travel!) Despite this frustration, however, John’s relentless friendliness apparently wore the trolls down and now they’re friends. Or at least CG thinks they are. John is less than convinced.

CHEL:

John asks if the trolls are in his land, but CG berates him for self-centredness:

CG: WE HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH YOUR DUMB LITTLE WINDY PLANET OR YOUR PETTY LITTLE QUESTS. CG: OR FOR THAT MATTER YOUR ENTIRE GAME SESSION. CG: YOU AREN'T THE ONLY ONES PLAYING THE GAME. CG: EVERY GROUP OF PLAYERS GETS THEIR OWN DISTINCT, BLANK SLATE SESSION. CG: AS WILL BE EXPLAINED TO YOU MANY TIMES.

He instructs John to relay an apology for the trolling to Jade and to tell her to GET HER GROSS AND TOTALLY UNATTRACTIVE HUMAN BUTT OFF HER UGLY HUMAN HIGH HORSE AND ANSWER MY MESSAGES. John says he’s a bit focused on his own quest right now, and sets off to find his father’s car.

TIER: While that's happening, we cut back to the gaggle of aliens having a grand old time around a campfire with some good food. A familiar pair of squiddles, now old, is visible as well.

FAILURE ARTIST: AR/PM/WV was a popular OT3 back in the day but you never see it anymore.

CHEL: Pity. It’s adorable.

FAILURE ARTIST: We cut to Dave’s place, where Jade is setting things up for the game. The air conditioning unit helps with the process, but the birds everywhere don’t. Dave drops the r-slur.

CLOCKWORK PROBLEMATYKKS: 16

Rose also talks with Dave as this is going on. She says this to him.

TT: I've done nothing but wait for boys to play this game with me all day. TT: First John lollygagging with the client, and then you with the server, downright filibustering my existence with unending fraternal melee. TT: And yet a girl, one who didn't even own the game, was able to connect with you minutes after you connected with me.

I’ve seen this quoted as Rose/Jade Lesbian Power but I wish we had more scenes where the two actually talked to each other.

CHEL: Being happy that one of your friends is competent means you’re in love with them now? And yet if someone used that as evidence for a het ship they’d be run out of the fandom. Anyway, Jade removes Dave’s bed to make room.

TT: And there she goes. TT: She HAS the karma.

FAILURE ARTIST: Rose has been talking to a troll, but she doesn’t know the gender so uses “he/she/it”. Funny to think there was a time when we didn’t know the trolls’ gender. Particularly the gender of Rose’s favorite troll...

Jade tries to tidy up the apartment using “a woman’s touch” a.k.a. a towel drenched in toilet water. Which begs the question of how her home is spotless.

CHEL: Because Hussie is again not thinking through the implications of the living situations as presented, and/or trying to present things as simultaneously a joke and serious. To be fair, considering the dreambot, she could have a super hi-tech cleaning system, or Bec could teleport the dirt away, but if so, we ought to see that.

WHITE SBURB POSTMODERNISM: 10 ARE YOU TRYING TO BE FUNNY?: 15

FAILURE ARTIST: In doing so, she accidentally rips the toilet out and drops an F-bomb.

CHEL: We now get a video of Rose’s location, the LAND OF LIGHT AND RAIN. Her house is now perched on a tiny island surrounded by glimmering pastel oil-slick-looking water, a waterfall pouring down out of nowhere beside it, with golden clouds scattered around pouring rain. It’s very pretty!

We again see the carapaces finding things in the ruins, and WV brings PM to see inside the bunker. The blast earlier formed an entry into the third room which had been locked, which contains further devices, this one with more spirographs and a frog picture on it; WV doesn’t know what this one does and the power’s too low to use it anyway. Back in the room with the monitors, PM is impressed by WV’s drawings and he offers her the pack of chalk. AR, meanwhile, cooks food.

PM recognises the monitor as similar to the one in her own station, though hers was watching a girl. Here, we get the static panels of the runaround game, from PM’s point of view.

Back in LoLaR, a mysterious textbox in cursive addresses Rose as Seer, suggesting she explore. Recall that the book mentioned the Heir of Breath, the Seer of Light, the Witch of Space, and the Knight of Time. Since Jade is the one who’s been doing the Seer-ing so far, I’ve seen readers assume she was the Seer and Rose the Witch, but it seems not; further explanations of what those titles really mean are forthcoming.

Sudden cut back to John’s land, where the village is under attack! Huts are aflame, and much bigger and more powerful monsters have arrived.

In Dave’s apartment, Jade opens the cruxtruder by dropping the displaced toilet on it, splashing water everywhere, much to Dave’s aggravation since all that juice was going to come back to haunt me. He’s relieved to see the countdown gives him four hours, but Jade doesn’t know till what, and he realises she’s sleep-messaging him again. He orders her not to watch him pee, and dont put anything weird in the seizure kernel.

TG: the last thing i need is for your weird brain webcam to be snapping shots of my dong TG: your grandpa was a sick fuck why would he build a voyeurbot for a little girl CALL CPA PLEASE: 8

Well, he is kinda right. Anyway, Dave spends a couple of pages elaborately planning misuse of the apple juice bottle and tricking John into drinking from the alchemised bottle, but he dismisses it as too much trouble and goes in the shower, kicking out the puppet. Good thing it was only his bladder that was the problem, if you get my drift. Some fans have speculated that this puppet also had a camera in it, but I can’t see evidence of that; I guess if you squint the eyes might look like a camera lens? I feel if that was the case it would have been shown. Hussie didn’t shy away from the weird shit with Dave’s living situation earlier.

Jade is upset to find the bisected bird from earlier, and decides to help the bird by putting it in the Kernelsprite, angering Dave again. He figures she’ll be more helpful when she’s awake, so he instructs her to slap the air to her side; the dreambot mimics her movements and whacks the real Jade in the face, waking her up.

BRIGHT: I burst out laughing the first time I saw that panel. It’s pretty clever of Dave. (Though obviously not kind, but of a variety that’s in keeping with the story.)

CHEL: Cut to the carapace camp, where they’re burning empty crates for a campfire. AR decides to use the Squiddles to Win over that fine carapace in grey, which seems to distress WV and Serenity. PM takes a Squiddle, but rather than being won over is vaguely reminded of something.

TIER: We then jump back into the past, where we find a totalled car and what looks like AR?

CHEL: Yep, though here he’s going by Authority Regulator instead of Aimless Renegade.

TIER: Whatever the case, this dude is not happy with this traffic violation. Another thing he's not happy with? Unauthorized parcels. Which brings us to the Parcel Mistress, who's been looking for this particular package for a while apparently. Now how to get it?

With that we jump back to John! Who's doing decent enough in his clobbering of game enemies. Just when things ain't looking too hot though, a mysterious stranger shoots and kills them with extreme prejudice. He looks familiar ain't he?

And even if he's not, that gigantic book under his arm can only be the work of the ol’ Colonel Sassacre, which John helpfully points out.

CHEL: Meanwhile in some other time period, PM suddenly remembers she must deliver a message to John. Back in the present, Parcel Mistress, for it is she, finds a tablet carved (badly) by John, depicting the SBurb envelope. The prompt suggests PM ready her sword, but she has none, and claims she would never resort to violence. Instead, she tries asking politely. Despite their lands’ enmity, AR finds her attractive and doffs his hat so furiously you are in danger of starting a HAT FIRE. His civility does not extend to handing over contraband, though. The tablet is sufficient evidence for him to give her the envelope, but to get the green parcel she must ask his bosses. PM puts the envelope in a pyxis, trusting the Breeze to move it, and follows AR.

John plans to follow the man, who he does not yet recognise as Jade’s Grandpa, to get his book back, but first he must help put out the fire in the salamander village. He flings the BARBASOL BOMB he made earlier into the volcano.

The cooling lather should work its magic in no time…

OH GOD HOW CAN SHAVING CREAM BE SO FLAMMABLE

Yeah, that doesn’t work so well. Fortunately, just as all seems lost, A big gust of wind conveniently comes along and blows out all the fire. The salamanders declare John a hero, though he’s just confused.

FAILURE ARTIST: A prompt (PM) asks John if he still has the tablet and if he wants to carve something on it. So, in another time loop, he does that.

Back at LOLAR, a very elegant and mysterious prompt ask Rose to find Jaspersprite. Rose cannot find him, but she does find footprints leading to the mausoleum. The mausoleum isn’t there anymore, but the underground passage is still there. Rose takes it down to a pier where someone has recently taken a boat and left a martini. The mysterious prompt says “A mother will do whatever is best for her children.” Nobody ever said “a brother will do whatever is best for his siblings”.

In the future, WV becomes the Mayor of Exile Town. The peace is disturbed when a “huge eggy looking thing” appears in the sky.

Cut to Jade giving the punch card of an “eggy loking thign (sic)”. Guess someone on the forum had bad spelling?

CHEL: It’s a callback to Rose describing the other unfinished GameFAQs entries, which were typed in haste. One described their entry item that way.

FAILURE ARTIST: Dave creates a huge red bird with a huge red egg. When he tries to use the egg, the crow sprite takes it and puts it in a nest made of smuppets, swords, and Lil Cal.

Dave doesn’t have enough grist to do anything. He fusses around building what he can. That done, he goes inside and installs gristTorrent to steal grist from John. Who exactly made that software?

Meanwhile, in LOLAR, Rose has set up shop on the pier. The mysterious prompter tells her to consult with the Heir and in the pesterlog we see she’s chatting with John. They catch up on the trolls and various things. Unfortunately, Rose is harassed by a gallowsCalibrator who tells her in 133t speak that her mother hates her and left her forever. Amazing that GC eventually becomes a beloved character since they are such a little shit right now. GC has synesthesia and jokes about their species communicating through “CLOUDS OF FR4GR4NT G4S3S”. They want to be helpful, but they deny wanting to be friends, though later they say they are becoming something called “H4T3FR13NDS”.

CHEL: Rose asks if I'm being courted or trolled here, which with further reveals about the trolls will become somewhat ironic. Other trolls are jumping around in time but GC is ST4Y1NG L1N34R [...] C4US3 W31RD T1M3 STUFF G1V3S ME A H34D4CHE, though will jump forward in the timeline so they don’t have to wait too long between conversations.

BRIGHT: GC isn’t the only one...

FAILURE ARTIST: GC explains the voices in the players’ heads are from the Exiles on Earth. The ultimate goal is to create a new civilization with them. With that important information, GC bids adieu for now.

TT: So the exiles are on Earth? Does that mean our goal is to get back there too? To resurrect it somehow? GC: NO NO NO GC: S33 1RON1C4LLY TH3Y G3T TO DO TH4T GC: 4FT3R TH3YR3 DON3 H3LP1NG YOU TH4T 1S GC: YOUR JOB 1S OF GR34T3R CONS3QU3NC3 TO S4Y TH3 L34ST GC: BUT P4RT OF TH31R JOB 1S TO R3BU1LD L1F3 4ND C1V1L1Z4T1ON TH3R3 GC: 4ND 1F TH3YR3 SUCC3SSFUL 1N THOUS4NDS OR M1LL1ONS OF Y34RS TH3 T3CHNOLOGY 1S UN34RTH3D 4ND TH3 PL4N3T 1S R1P3 FOR S33D1NG 4LL OV3R 4G41N TT: You never answered the question. Where were they exiled from? GC: FROM TH3 TWO K1NGDOMS 1N TH3 1NC1P1SPH3R3 GC: 3XP4TR14T3D DUR1NG TH3 R3CKON1NG

CHEL: We now know who and what the Exiles are, so let’s lop off a point for that:

WHAT IS HAPPENING??: 8

FAILURE ARTIST: Back in the past, when John went by ghostyTrickster, he tries to have a conversation with Jade but it’s interrupted by CG warning her that her robot will explode. After CG leaves, Jade and John talk about the trolls. Seems blocking does no good. John drops the r-slur.

CLOCKWORK PROBLEMATYKKS: 17

We cut to CG being gray and angry in some mysterious grey room.

Then, back to Jade. Her package from her pen-pal appears again.

Cut to ghostyTrickster John. GC trolls him, outs herself as female and blind, and threatens to cut his throat “4ND L1ST3N TO YOU BL33D WH1L3 1 SM3LL YOU D13”. John is naturally unnerved by this, but he also takes inspiration from her taunt that he’s bad at ectobiology.

CHEL: He takes for his new username a term that the trolls introduced him to, and is surprised when they immediately find him? Maybe we DID need a Too Dumb To Live count.

FAILURE ARTIST: We cut to a troll like CG, but with red glasses and a Libra sign on her shirt. This is our first look at gallowsCallibrator.

CHEL: Okay, does the death threat qualify for SEND THEM TO THE SLAMMER? It’s a bit extreme considering at this point in his timeline John has done nothing to offend her. Then again, maybe not; the narrative doesn’t present this as being the right and proper thing to do.

Back in the present, PM arrives in enemy territory, with the parking citation as a ready excuse for her presence. Imps and agents she passes now have features from Jaspersprite; cat faces, princess hats, and we see a DD-like figure wearing a cat-ear headband. PM follows a red carpet, only to be confronted at the end by this eldritch-looking majesty:

PM is naturally trembling, but is merely instructed to speak to the Archagent, who we’ve met before; Jack Noir. We see a ring with four pearl-like orbs on the monarch’s hand; this will become important later.

Rose’s Exile voice bids her farewell, telling her to Find your sprite. Realise your purpose. No longer guided, Rose decides to start making her own decisions, beginning with a sip of martini.

In the desert, A WINDSWEPT QUESTANT suddenly appears, this being a tall white carapace with a feminine figure and narrow eyes, from the eggy lokin thign, with the unsound effect EGG! WV and AR appear disconcerted, while PM is busy telling John to put the carved tablet in the pyxis.

Back in Jack Noir’s office, PM attempts to grab the green box and leave, but Jack appears suddenly behind her, making her jump, and tells her she’d better have the ticket payment or you are wasting valuable time he could otherwise spend shirking his clerical duties. PM nervously explains she’s actually here for the package, and Jack points out she doesn’t have the right courier forms.

In spite of how he's supposed to be dressed now but isn't, he ain't nobody's fool.

However, instead, she could always do an errand for him. Specifically, following his HIT LIST, which is two pictures of white crowns recognisable as the tops of the king and queen chess pieces. He also gives her the enormous black sword we saw her future self use. PM, terrified, departs, and Jack wonders if she’s actually stupid enough to try it.

You make a policy of handing out a REGISWORD and a HITLIST to just about everyone who enters your office.

Curious, he opens the package, and stares into it in surprise.

At Dave’s apartment, Jade has put the Punch Designix in the hallway, making it rather hard to navigate, but regardless Dave’s busy alchemising. He plays with a few add-ons which temporarily render the machines unusable, but eventually manages to use a jumper shunty thing to consolidate all the machines into one. Jade draws some components, gets the captcha codes of their ghost images, and sends the codes to Dave, who plugs them into the machine. Useful, but could probably be compressed into fewer pages, especially when he follows it up by playing with the new machinery. This is adding to my conviction that the machines should have been simplified severely in the first place.

GET ON WITH IT!: 15

John finds the wrecked car with no dad, package, or game, and gets trolled by GC again. She offers to help him, claiming she wants to H3LP YOU 4DV4NC3 MOR3 QU1CKLY because she’s bored watching his long adventure and wants to help him skip ahead. John points out she could just skip forward on the timeline as she has before, and she admits that she just wants to see if she can change the timeline, as her friends don’t believe they can. She offers him a map, which he accepts.

John complains, naturally, and she relents and offers to guide him directly to the pipe which will help him skip to the next Gate. Honestly, he has reason to complain; her smellovision allows her to read text on a screen, yet not to draw?

Rose, back in LOLAR, battles monsters, doing surprisingly well considering she only has knitting needles for a weapon, culminating in an epic sequence in which she stabs both needles into an ogre’s eyes, flips onto its back, and uses her knitting as reins to ride it down the waterfall. Dave informs her he’s out of grist, but she finds the idea of killing the ogre for supplies when it’s unconscious to be distasteful. He’s interrupted by grimAuxiliatrix, The Troll Who Talks Like This, asking about Rose. The conversation is awkward as GA seems unable to read Dave’s sarcasm.

GA: She Perhaps Even Regards You With Uh GA: Endearment TG: you have no idea dude she is so in my grill TG: like a stray hotdog that rolled down there TG: and now its too much trouble to fish out with the tongs TG: so you just watch it like crack and turn black GA: Um Is This GA: A Common Sort Of Practice In Human Courtship GA: Watching Oblong Meat Products Tumble Into Places They Dont Belong

adiosToreador, meanwhile, does the same to Rose about Dave, with a similar lack of comprehension of Rose’s loquaciousness. GA contacts Rose again, and a confusing conversation about temporal mechanics ensues. Afterwards, we see GA, who proves to be a short-haired troll girl with pronged horns, a Virgo shirt symbol (my troll!), and cute little vampire teeth.

FAILURE ARTIST: It’s been too long for me to remember the fandom reaction, but I feel like the reveal that GA is a girl was framed like a surprise. Surprise! This troll is a lesbian! But I might be mistaken. Still, this isn’t like Dave’s (mock?) offended reaction to AT. Hussie, like many straight men, is more comfortable with lesbians than gay men.

We’ll see more of Rose’s and GA’s relationship as the comic goes on. Some non-Homestucks here might already be spoiled due to the numerous fanart of the two.

CHEL: I wasn’t surprised by her being a girl; maybe I’m stereotyping, but the prissy nature of her dialogue and quirk sounded feminine to me from the start, not to mention the “trix” ending of her username is a feminine one - if she was male, it would be “auxiliator”. Not sure how many people paid attention to that though. I was surprised by the later information that (SPOILER) she actually was interested in Rose, because facetious declarations of romantic intention are kind of a thing for the human kids at this point and her flustered reaction could be taken either way here.

Dave, meanwhile, is trolled by AT, with the most cringe-inducing text-rap I’ve ever seen (and text-rapping is pretty cringy to begin with). I gotta praise Hussie, it takes skill to make something this awful.

AT: oK, lET ME, AT: oRGANIZE MY NOTES HERE, AT: oKAYYY, AT: (tURN ON SOME STRICT BEATS MAYBE, iT WILL HELP TO LISTEN TO THEM WHILE i DESTROY YOU,) AT: wHEN THE POLICE MAN BUSTS ME, aND POPS THE TRUNK, AT: hE'S ALL SUPRISED TO FIND I'M TOTING SICK BILLY, AT: wHOSE, AT: gOAT IS THAT, hE ASKS, wHILE HE STOPS TO THUNK AT: aBOUT IT, aND i'S JUST SAY IT'S DAVE'S, yOU SILLY AT: gOOSE,

Since we’ll later find out trolls don’t have the concept of police in the same way humans do, and nor do they call animals by the same names we do, I think this is worth some WSP points. Did he watch Dave’s life closely enough to pick up those concepts?

BRIGHT: I get the distinct impression none of the trolls watched anything like enough of the kids’ lives to pick up the concept of the police, particularly since as we’ll see later they missed a few things that are rather more obvious -- such as, say, parents.

WHITE SBURB POSTMODERNISM: 11

CHEL: He also namedrops Prospit and Derse, which I’m not really spoiling anything by saying are the names of the two warring chess kingdoms, though I don’t think those names have been applied to them yet. I don’t know why, it’s not like keeping them secret makes a big difference - did Hussie only just think of them? The quality of his rhymes aside, AT appears very proud of himself; he’s a troll with enormous bull-like horns, a mohawk, and a Taurus symbol. I thought he was really creepy-looking the first time I saw him, but he rather grew on me.

Back on LOWAS, John is squirted out of a pipe with a gush of oil. Ew. The Con Air bunny goes flying and lands in an oil river, and he catches it with the Ghost Gauntlets. An adult and child pair of salamanders happen to be standing nearby, prompting a movie re-enactment, much to the salamanders’ confusion.

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CG is unimpressed, though he agrees with John that Con Air sounds entertaining. CG claims to have been watching the whole of John’s life and Con Air is supposed to be one of John’s favourite movies; how come CG hasn’t seen any of it before, especially since he says he has seen a movie John hates?

CG: OK I DON'T SEE HOW WE'RE SUPPOSED TO BE BECOMING FRIENDS IF YOU RECOIL FROM MY OLIVE BRANCH LIKE I'M WIGGLING A GNARLED TREE MONSTER'S DICK IN YOUR DIRECTION.

Lovely. Though I gotta say the dialogue and ridiculous extended metaphors are one of the best parts of Homestuck. Wish I could pull those off. However, one point here; if they’re aliens, it seems odd that they would use human idioms such as “olive branch” with the same meaning we do. There is a possible explanation later on, but since they only ever use American/Western phrases like this and it’s clear from other things they say that they didn’t pick up anything much about human culture from watching the kids, I’m upping the count anyway.

WHITE SBURB POSTMODERNISM: 12

BRIGHT: We also discover that troll movies are titled very differently to human movies, such as the classic

CG: WHEREIN NUMEROUS VIGILANTES CONFRONT PERIL; ONE OF THEM BETRAYS THE OTHERS;(BUT IT TURNS OUT TO BE PART OF THE PLAN ALL ALONG); CG: SEVERAL ATTRACTIVE FEMALE LEADS PROVOKE ROMANTIC TENSION; FOUR MAJOR CHARACTERS WEAR UNUSUAL HATS; ONE HOLDS PLOT-CRITICAL SECRET; CG: 47 ON-SCREEN EXPLOSIONS, ONE RESULTING IN DEMISE OF KEY-ADVERSARY;6 TO 20 LINES THAT COULD BE CONSTRUED AS HUMOROUS; EB: wait... EB: this is the title? CG: IT GOES ON.

Apparently after thousands of years of film history, you start running out of movie titles.

Also, note that despite their being aliens, quite possibly with different gender roles, the romantic tension is explicitly provided by attractive female leads.

WHITE SBURB POSTMODERNISM: 13

CG thinks that Earth civilisation’s lack of maturity might explain why the players are (apparently) doing so badly. John retorts that GC is helping him, so they can’t be doing THAT badly. Apparently this wasn’t in the plan; CG goes to talk to GC about it, and she punches him. Seems she’s talking to a future John at the moment, and he asked her to. CG gives John a message to pass on to GC in reply.

CG: TELL HER TO POLISH MY HEAVING BONE BULGE AND SET A TABLE FOR FUCKING TWO ON IT. CG: IT’S FOR OUR CANDLELIT HATE DATE.

John comments that it’s like they’re trolling each other through him now, and asks if CG has talked to Jade. CG is surprised that he’d want to talk to her. John offers to paste the chatlog; CG refuses, and John heads off to talk to GC.

CHEL: Precisely what a bone bulge is is never explained. Context makes it clear it’s an unsavoury body part, and it sounds like a term for one’s dick, even though the boner does not in fact contain bones in humans. The assumption early in the fandom was that the trolls had primarily human anatomy, which seems odd to me considering Kanaya’s complete obliviousness to her Oblong Meat Products comment - most teenagers familiar with human penises would be on that instantly. Anyway, there soon came a phase of experimentation, and by now we seem to have settled on the “functional-hermaphrodites with tentacle dicks” theory. Which is weird, because a tentacle doesn’t sound like something which would be referred to with the word “bone”, does it?

GC’s laughing mouth is reflected in John’s glasses as they speak in what I desperately hope is a shoutout to the Corinthian. She calls John STUP1DLY 4DOR4BLE (minor typo on the comic’s part as the E in her quirk should be a 3) and laughs at CG’s frustration. John relays an approximation of CG’s message:

EB: he wants you to touch his bone lump or something. GC: WH4T!!! EB: and that he's pretty much basically in love with you.

GC asks him to copy-paste the convo for proof but John refuses, saying it was a private conversation, and informs GC that she’s going to punch CG soon. In other news, referring to these characters with only their handle initials when I know their actual names is hard.

On GC’s instructions, John turns around, to discover this hard-to-miss landmark:

This, according to GC, is the D3N1Z3NS P4L4C3, in which the Denizen sleeps on a grist hoard so big their alchemising could never make a dent in it.

GC: USU4LLY HOW 1TS SUPPOS3D TO GO 1S GC: OV3R TH3 COURS3 OF YOUR QU3ST GC: YOU W1LL W4K3 TH3 D3N1Z3N GC: 4ND TH3N F1N4LLY YOU GO THROUGH TH3 S3V3NTH G4T3 GC: WH1CH 1S TH3 ONLY W4Y 1NTO TH3 P4L4C3 GC: TH3N YOU GO DOWN 4ND F1GHT TH3 D3N1Z3N GC: 4ND K1LL 1T GC: R3L3AS1NG TH3 HO4RD EB: so what's my advantage? GC: YOU WONT BOTH3R W4K1NG 1T GC: W3 W1LL SK1P R1GHT TO TH3 S3V3NTH G4T3 GC: F1ND 1TS L41R GC: 4ND K1LL 1T 1N 1TS SL33P

The grist hoard, GC claims, is for the ULT1M4T3 4LCH3MY, but she won’t explain what this is yet, and she leads John to a R3TURN NOD3 which takes him back to his home to prepare.

In the desert, AR and WV hammer some metal to make a gift for the Windswept Questant, which proves to be a crown. PM is shocked to see this, and emerges from the bunker, sword in hand.

Meanwhile, in a long-discarded memory… A PARCEL MISTRESS seeks audience with royalty.

It seems Windswept Questant is in fact, of course, the White Queen.

PM explains recent events and seeks her queen’s advice, showing her the hit list requesting the white monarchs’ crowns. WQ is wearing a ring similar to that of the monarch we met earlier, the Black Queen. Four orbs are attached to it, two light and two dark. On removing it, WQ loses all her elaborate prototyping accoutrements and becomes the normal-looking carapace we saw in her Windswept Questant identity. WQ seems to have a plan; instead of requiring PM to kill her to finish her fetch quest, she simply hands over her crown and ring, and instructs PM to find the White King on the battlefield. Flashing forward to the desert, WQ places her new crown on PM’s head, much to the astonishment of their companions.

On LOLAR, beneath waterfalls pouring from hovering pink turtle shells, Rose frustratedly consults with Jaspersprite, who will apparently only meow. However, when asked a direct question, Jaspersprite is able to respond. He is attempting to fish with his tentacles, but there are no fish, because her Denizen ate everything in the ocean and got so full that it took a long nap. Being as cryptic as Nannasprite, he won’t, however, explain what the message he gave to young Rose meant, saying she’ll understand when she wakes up.

JASPERSPRITE: Rose im just a cat and i dont know much but i know that youre important and also you are what some people around here call the Seer of Light. JASPERSPRITE: And you dont know what that means but you will see its all tied together! JASPERSPRITE: All the life in the ocean and all the shiny rain and the songs in your head and the letters they make. JASPERSPRITE: A beam of light i think is like a drop of rain or a long piece of yarn that dances around when you play with it and make it look enticing! JASPERSPRITE: And the way that it shakes is the same as what makes notes in a song! JASPERSPRITE: And a song i think can be written down as letters. JASPERSPRITE: So if you play the right song and it makes all the right letters then those letters could be all the letters that make life possible. JASPERSPRITE: So all you have to do is wake up and learn to play the rain!

FAILURE ARTIST: Hussie is very good at writing the dialogue of a kitten turned into a game NPC, you’ve got to hand it to him.

CHEL: It’s also worth noting that his colours have stopped flashing pink and purple, and he’s settled on pink.

Rose asks Jade for further information, and learns that all four of the kids have a dream self which must awaken; Rose deduces Jade’s has been awake as long as they’ve known each other. Jade is in fact asleep now, and can only message at the moment because of her robot. Rose’s dream self is dreaming troubled dreams, causing the real Rose to suffer nightmares all her life, and to stop this she must discover how to wake her dream self.

GG: maybe the stuff you wrote on your walls can give you a clue? TT: What stuff? GG: the.... GG: er GG: didnt dave tell you?

Utterly heartwarming moment; we see in John’s dream tower, and Jade has drawn over the LAME KID messages and creepy clown faces on John’s walls with a big bright yellow heart and the message wake up john!!! you can do it!!!

Rose wants to know what’s going on, but Dave is unavailable. The meteor is about to land and he’s scrambling his way up the tower to his kernelsprite’s nest to retrieve the entry egg.

Back at John’s house, he finds the useless rocket-pack-combined-with-junk he experimentally alchemised earlier; GC tells him that the trolls’ resident hacker, who we haven’t met yet, can use its code to create a usable jetpack. Said hacker doesn’t want to talk to them but WONT B3 4BL3 TO R3S1ST TH3 CH4LL3NG3.

John sends the mishmash code…

GC: OK B3 B4CK IN L3SS TH4N ON3 S3COND GC: PCHOOOOO EB: hello? GC: WH4T EB: it thought you said you'd be back in less than a second? GC: 1 W4S GC: 1 G4V3 YOU TH3 COD3 GC: 1TS PCHOOOOO

Hee. The misunderstanding leads into a brief argument, GC claiming that 3V3N YOU 4ND YOUR UND3RD3V3LOP3D BON3 NOOK W1LL B3 4BL3 TO F1GUR3 OUT WH4T TO DO. Once again, we don’t know what a bone nook is. Context could imply either an obscene body part or a brain-related one. Common fanon holds that it’s the vagina, others have objected and said it surely must mean anus; neither of those sound like a “bone” anything to me, and in fact bone would be horribly counterproductive for organs which have to perform peristalsis. Someone did point out to me that it could mean a place to put the metaphorical bone, but that wasn’t what I immediately thought.

FAILURE ARTIST: I don’t think the phrase “bone nook” ever comes up again, though the word “nook” by itself does and it can be replaced with the word “ass” in those cases. Basically, trolls aren’t a fictional species crafted with any care. Hussie wanted some annoying alien characters with a visual callback to “Little Monsters” and it somehow got out of control.

CHEL: Actually, I believe it does come up in Hiveswap Act 1! But we’ll get to that.

John answers a message from Dave, who now claims to be in the Medium, saying it took him four hours. He asks for advice, saying his sprite wants him to prototype it again, and Rose is randomly asleep.

TG: ok fine but TG: it seems to be suggesting something here TG: and TG: i guess im kinda weirded out by its suggestion EB: i don't know, just do what it says! EB: it knows stuff about the game, so it probably knows better than i do...

Not a good sign. John decides to Take dear, sweet Casey (the baby salamander) into protective custody by captchaloguing her, and blasts off for the gate.

Cut to an animated sequence in The Land of Heat and Clockwork, a nightmarish lava-scape covered in machinery (convection schmonvection), where Dave is being extremely badass and surprisingly successful for someone with only half a sword. In fact, multiple Daves appear to be present. We also see, unfortunately, exactly what he prototyped:

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Calsprite is even less helpful than the other two, providing a constant soundtrack of creepy laughter while Dave begs him to shut up. According to Dave’s ensuing convo with Rose, this has been going on for four months. That’s… pretty terrifying even before we hear everything that went wrong. John was unsurprisingly instantly slain by his Denizen, and thus couldn’t save Jade from her meteor. Dave, however, has now mastered the art of time travel via the magical turntables he’s created, and intends to go back and prevent all that from happening, now that they’ve spent four months gathering information their past selves can use. Rose is afraid of ceasing to exist; Dave assures her that their dream selves exist outside the standard passage of time, and this will help her dream self wake sooner.

FAILURE ARTIST: The trolls also stopped “trolling” Dave and Rose after John died. This isn’t the end of the trolls, of course.

Dave uses his turntables to go to the past. We cut to a conversation we just saw, where Dave has just entered the Medium and John is about to go pchooooo, except this time from Dave’s roof.

GET ON WITH IT!: 16

Except at the end, Dave tells John not to go. See, Dave from the future just arrived on Dave from the present’s roof. John refuses to believe that this is happening, thinking it’s just a prank. Not even putting future!Dave on the line convinces John. So, future!Dave unloads everything he has in a stack and flips back into the Crowsprite to become a new characters: Davesprite.

CHEL: Note that, instead of Dave’s theme colour of red, Davesprite is orange. I did wonder if this was potentially supposed to show that Bro (whose theme colour is orange) is overwriting/overshadowing Dave’s real self, but since the sprites of the others aren’t the theme colours of their respective kids (Nannasprite is teal to John’s dark blue and Jaspersprite pink to Rose’s purple) I don’t think this is really a reliable sign. Pin in the colours, though, that’ll come up later.

FAILURE ARTIST: Meanwhile, John blasts off with the words “THIS IS STUPID”.

Present!Rose tries to pester Dave, and we get another repeated conversation.

GET ON WITH IT!: 17

Present!Rose decides to nap, and at that moment, Future Dream Rose ceases to exist and becomes absorbed by Present!Rose. I think.

WHAT IS HAPPENING??: 9

Davesprite pesters GC to tell her not to talk to John anymore. GC first reacts by saying “YOU SM3LL L1K3 OR4NG3 CR34MS1CL3S” but then finds out she killed John. She had assumed since she could talk to John in the future, he hadn’t died, but she guessed there was a chance he could die. She’s a little put-out and wants to apologize, but she’s not as sad as you’d expect someone who accidentally killed someone to be. Davesprite asks who is in charge of timeline management.

GC: SH3 DO3SNT W4NT TO T4LK TO 4NY OF YOU GC: 4ND H4S M1SG1V1NGS 4BOUT TH1S WHOL3 TH1NG GC: NOT 4LL OF US 4R3 TH4T 3NTHUS1AST1C 4BOUT TROLL1NG YOU GUYS GC: 4ND TH3 ON3S WHO 4R3 SORT OF SUCK 4T 1T >:|

We do get to meet her, but not until the next act when we meet all the trolls.

Davesprite gives GC permission to talk to John if she cuts out her “coy bullshit antics”. GC mocks his threatening tone and points out she’s higher on the echeladder, from the future, and blind. Davesprite says his self-prototyping gave him great powers and GC says that was a bad idea. They then engage in some banter over GC posting screencaps of Wheeler from Captain Planet (which she calls a “soap opera”). Davesprite and GC end the conversation with mutual respect. Which is honestly really weird after all future!Dave had to go through because of GC.

CHEL: Does this count for SLAMMER points? I think it does. Here’s the first of our new count, then!

SEND THEM TO THE SLAMMER: 1

This will go up whenever a character does something awful and neither the narrative nor the other characters seem to care.

This also brings us into another point. We’ve seen only hints of it, but alternate timelines are a big theme of this comic. Davesprite in particular is a major focus of said theme, specifically the nature of his personhood separately from the focal or “alpha” Dave. However, as we see here, not even the Dave from the dead John’s timeline particularly seems to mind that John just died in an alternate timeline. At the moment, they appear to feel that because there is an alive John, everything is okay. Let’s see how that progresses.

FAILURE ARTIST: Davesprite and present!Dave (who I guess we can just call Dave at this point) talk. Davespite says as a sprite he has lots of knowledge but is obligated to put it in riddles. However, he says he doesn’t feel like it so he’ll answer Dave straight.

DAVE: alright DAVE: here goes DAVE: why are we so fucking awesome DAVESPRITE: thats the best fucking question anybody ever asked

After that best fucking question, Dave asks if John will be alright. Davesprite says that’s up to John, and if John doesn’t listen they’ll just bail him out again. Davesprite says the gear he piled up will help Dave get to the next gate. The two versions of Dave decide to collaborate on a SBaHJ comic and fist “bunp”.

Meanwhile, “hundreds of pages ago”, John gets his bunny from Dave. We see Dave’s note and it’s cool how each of the kids have their own style of handwriting. There’s a very prophetic sentence in this sweet note:

one day your gooberish ways are gonna land you in a jam and i know im going to have to get you off the hook but its cool i got your back bro.

We cut to the present, where John is blasting off. The human emotion of friendship causes him to reconsider his action. John pesters Dave and tells him he’s just flying around and not going to the gate. Crisis averted.

This might seem like a cul de sac, but it created a new character (Davesprite) and introduced many concepts, so it really isn’t.

CHEL: Primarily, it introduced the theme of jumping around in time in the literal sense as well as just hopping between apparently-disconnected scenes. The latter’s not a generally well-advised style of writing, but considering the time travel motif of the comic, I think it actually works fine here. Also, as a webcomic, if one spends too long on one group of characters then by the time you get back to the other ones the readers will probably not remember what happened, so shorter scenes for each group are probably more acceptable than in a novel or movie.

CG trolls John again, and after a discussion of their becoming reverse anti-mutual friends, John complains that CG hasn’t really answered his questions.

CG: SO GO AHEAD, ASK ME ANYTHING. EB: ok... EB: what's the point of the game. CG: ASK SOMETHING ELSE. CG: ALREADY TOLD YOU THAT.

John asks where they are now in their Medium, and CG explains they’re HIDING IN THE VEIL, a meteor belt between the two planets. To clarify the layout for our readers, Skaia the big ball of sky is in the centre, with Prospit the golden planet orbiting it closely enough for its moon to enter Skaia during the “eclipse” where Jade gets her visions. Then there are the players’ Lands, their little adventure planets where the consorts live, the consorts being the little NPC creatures (in John’s case, the salamanders). Every player has a Land of Something and Something. Beyond the Lands is the Veil, and beyond that is the Furthest Ring, the orbit of Derse, the dark planet.

CG: OK, THERE COMES A TIME WHEN BLACK INEVITABLY BEATS WHITE CG: ON THE BATTLEFIELD IN THE CENTER OF SKAIA CG: THE WHITE KING IS CAPTURED OR KILLED OR SOMETHING CG: THAT'S WHEN THE RECKONING STARTS. EB: ok... CG: THE RULERS OF DERSE CG: THE BLACK KING AND QUEEN CG: GET THE POWER TO SEND THE VEIL TOWARD SKAIA CG: TO DESTROY IT CG: THAT KIND OF STARTS YOUR BIG "COUNTDOWN" CG: WHEN SHIT GETS SERIOUS. EB: so then it's up to us to save it? CG: YEAH, YOU HAVE THAT LONG TO KILL THE BLACK QUEEN AND KING CG: AND SKAIA ITSELF SORT OF BUYS YOU SOME TIME CG: BY ACTIVATING ITS DEFENSE PORTALS CG: TO CATCH SOME OF THE METEORS

Ordinarily, the players would have plenty of time before this happens, but something done by the human players has caused things to go wrong, and now they’ve not only ruined their own chance of winning, but somehow affected the trolls’ game too. CG refuses to explain how, because he’s already told him again.

John asks if they’re hiding in a crater or something, but no, CG explains there are buildings in the Veil. It’s considered neutral ground, and both sides have laboratories there where they genetically engineer new soldiers and agents. John asks CG to tell GC “nice try”, but he refuses.

Now comes the mid-point animation of the act, “[S] Jack: Ascend”. I thought it was an ending animation, but no, there’s still more. If you don’t want to or can’t watch video I’ll explain the content, but I do recommend it.

Watch on YouTube

Pan over the Skaian system, from LOWAS to the Veil to the purple towers of Derse. Four towers are close together, topped by orbs. On three of them, we see the silhouettes of the sprites, while the fourth is dark. Jack Noir sits at his desk, doing paperwork, a pink princess dress on a stand next to it. He doodles on a parking ticket, declaring the Black Queen to be a HUGE BITCH. Closeup on BQ’s hips as she approaches, because we totally needed gratuitous sex appeal. She’s remarkably curvy for a probably-non-mammal. Still, we’ll forgive the standard scifi tropes. Jack watches on the Fenestrated Wall, until BQ appears and hacks it in half. She waves the dress and a pink pointed hat at him; apparently, now that the princess doll has been prototyped, the carapaces must represent it in their clothing as well as the jester. Jack is understandably displeased, and after a quick-fire montage of various outfits representing the sprites’ themes, he tears the final colourful tunic up.

Meanwhile, Rose’s dreamself has awoken, and discovers what she wrote on her walls; the word MEOW and other arrangements of the letters M, E, O, and W, over and over again, over every inch of the walls except the part covered by her bed. She finally remembers what Jaspers said to her, which was, of course, MEOW. This seems like nonsense, but as she looks, the letters switch to G, C, A, and T, the letters used to denote DNA nucleotides. It’s a genetic code.

The guardians, meanwhile, are battling enormous monsters; Mom and Dad respectively punch out a three-eyed spider-like giant and a rock cyclops, Dad pausing afterwards to carve a hat on a pyxis tablet, and Bro swordfights against a lava-dwelling tentacle beast.

Back to Jack, matters have got worse; not only are the carapaces required to dress like the sprites, but Davesprite still has the sword sticking through his torso, so now so must Jack. Considering what else we’ve seen carapaces survive, he’d probably be fine, but he’s still understandably hesitant. BQ offers him a sword, but he slices off her ring-bearing finger, which… causes her to explode? Jack puts on the ring, which causes Derse to glow white and him to sprout the features of the sprites; a sword grows from him without him having to fall on it, and wings and tentacles emerge. End scene.

So, approximately, human children have possibly caused the destruction of an alien civilisation’s last hope by putting a cat in a princess dress. Whatever else you think of Homestuck, you can’t say it’s not inventive.

BRIGHT: It is that, among other things.

COUNTS ALL THE LUCK: 0 ARE YOU TRYING TO BE FUNNY?: 15 CALL CPA PLEASE: 8 CLOCKWORK PROBLEMATYKKS: 17 GET ON WITH IT!: 17 GORE GALORE: 9 HOW NOT TO WRITE A WEBCOMIC: 15 HURRY UP AND DO NOTHING: 6 IN HATE WITH MY CREATION: 0 RELATIONSHIP GOALS?: 1 SEND THEM TO THE SLAMMER: 1 SOME OF MY BEST FRIENDS: 0 WHAT IS HAPPENING??: 9 WHITE SBURB POSTMODERNISM: 13 TOTAL: 111

[zydrateacademy]

Current Activities in Gaming #222 (and life in general)

Do I even have anyone left to read my stuff? Alright, I’m gonna be real here. There’s a few variables that led to my inactivity on Tumblr. Let’s break down a few. 1) It’s not as fun. And not just because nudity was removed, though let’s be honest that’s certainly a variable. Ever since the Tumblr company shuffling of leadership there’s been a few choice updates that just don’t lend well towards the community. My activity feed is mostly just memes at this point. Also, I love blogging but I’ve yet to find a different platform to do so on, but I’ll be sure to google some alternatives soon enough.

2) I’d rather just be playing. These bigger CA posts typically take an hour or two to write up. I don’t plan them, I just open the post up and let my thoughts just get dumped. An hour or two is a lot of time, and that’s plenty of time to make some headway in certain games. Maybe pausing during an MMO during a dungeon queue or a raid party reset, but I don’t think I’ve touched an MMO in a couple of years so that window has closed.  As a 2a, you could also just say I just very simply haven’t been in the mood to dedicate an hour or two every couple of days.

3) Schedule switchup and fatigue. A few months ago I transferred out of front end at the grocery store I work at, and into the produce department. There was more than one chance. For one, I no longer work morning shifts (often was 7am to 1pm or noonish). That’s 5-6 hour shifts and that gives me my day to play around with. However the produce department needed a closer, so now I’m up to 8.5 hour shifts, typically 1:30 to 10pm (EST, in case that matters). I was getting 40 hours a week but I asked my boss to downgrade me to 32 instead, which is still a few more than what I was getting on front end in addition to a raise, because front end is typically the “bottom” of the retail totem pole for some reason, despite them being pretty damn important to customer experience. Regardless, at the end of almost 9 hours, I typically just come home, turn on an ASMR video on my second monitor and basically shut my brain and body down as I mindlessly plug away at whatever game I’m playing. And yes, apparently I’m ‘essential’. So I’m still working during the pandemic.

Now then. Let’s get to what I’ve been up to, and none of this is in any particular order since I’ve last posted. I must have hopped to two or three different Conan Exiles servers while ultimately settling on Oasis of Pleasure, a very ERP driven place. I spend a good month or two being active and then I just gotta wait for the next server reset and let my personal CE batteries recharge.

I’ve gotten back into Skyrim, and I really should do some scrolling to find my last CA number for that. I’ve more than doubled my hours on the special edition, and apparently it’s been just under four years since I touched it last. Right now I’m playing a sort of nonlethal thief. The Ordinator perk overhaul (which is a must have, honestly) gives the light armor tree some big bonuses to hand to hand and makes it incredibly viable even in higher difficulties. She keeps a bow and knife around for “monsters” but ultimately uses her fists against most humanoids. I’ve been trying something different during the thieves guild questline: Actually sneaking by everyone and not murdering the fuck out of every humanoid you run into. Which is an option, fun enough. You can fail the radiant quests by murdering the homeowners but most of the questline is filled with mercenaries and you can’t really ‘fail’ the main missions (though I wonder what happens if you kill that argonian?) otherwise players could block a shit load of content from themselves.

I’ve also played a hot barbarian werewolf girl, some kind of Nazgul looking woman, and some other stuff.

Hilariously I’ve yet to get a decent screenshot of my current nonlethal thief. Her kit is pretty damn basic, wearing a custom set of the guildmaster armor with the black bandoleers. Honestly she looks pretty unassuming, which is kind of the purpose. Maybe I’ll go take her hood off and get a screenshot. Some day.

After that, I will say I’ve done some preorders. I still await Bloodlines 2 and Cyberpunk 2077. Delays notwithstanding, last time I checked they’re being released at roughly the same timeframe. I also preordered Horizon Zero Dawn which I am enjoying but must admit that some elements of it are a tad underwhelming. Maybe it’s because I played a good chunk of AC:Odyssey again recently, but I grow tired of the random garbage pickup game for basic crafting. Games just can’t really stand on their own two legs anymore, and open world games seem to be stuck on a few trends they can’t shake. Running around mining for ore and picking at tree branches is not fun. It’s a side effect of HZD indeed being four years old already, but I’ll still probably get a good few dozen hours on it. Not sure if I’ll bother beating it, but I do like Aloy and her story, though I’ve been treated with some spoilers since its release so I kind of know where it’s headed. After that... Let’s check my ‘recent’ list on Steam.

So we got some Town of Salem, which has become my go-to night closer before bed most nights. Last time I made a post on it I probably only had 10-20 hours played, of which I now have over 200. I’m sure as hell a lot better than I used to be, but the All Any gamemodes still manage to make my headspin, but they lead to some hilarious moments. All other modes makes it very difficult because of the “no claim space” meta, so I like hitting AA so I can claim whatever the hell I want. I’ve wanted to get back into Dying Light but it does something dirty to my computer that always demands a hard restart. You basically can’t tab away at all, even in borderless mode. And when I try exiting, I can no longer click any tabs. So hard power button it is. It’s such a good game and it feels really good to play, but I just can’t let it force me to do hard restarts anymore. I’ve dabbled into many others and some aren’t worth mentioning too much. We got Star Wars Battlefront 2, which I was approaching with some level of skill. I like the Co-Op modes but it feels like there’s only like three maps for that. Was fun with my brother for a while but that mode needs like ten new maps. But I believe development has stopped (a while ago, too), as the team is probably working on the next thing. I’ve already posted my dealings with the likes of Mount and Blade 2: Bannerlord and Generation Zero. I never got around to beating GZ’s Alpine expansion. I got my 40 hours of it and frankly... that was enough. Good game, just lacks some depth. Some reviewers mentioned that the loop became too shallow and I can kind of agree, even though it took me 40 hours to get to that point.  As for MNB, I’m sort of waiting on the more final phases of its early access. It’s basically getting patched every since week and I had trouble keeping up with all the mod downloads. So I’m thinking of doing a full uninstall (mods and all) and waiting longer down the development line. Maybe with workshop support, playing and updating will be more stable. That’s about the last I have within the last few months. I’ll probably get around to finding my last Skyrim post and pick up from where I left off.

[murasaki-murasame]

Oh boy that sure was a whole lotta stuff going on in the 1.5-year anniversary digest video, huh?

I was hoping to post some of my predictions and hopes for it beforehand but life stuff got in the way so here we are, lol.

Anyway there’s a lot I wanna talk about across the board so it’ll go under a cut.

When I saw that this digest was like 20 minutes long I figured it’d be padded out, but lol it’s actually even more dense with material than the last one we got. This really makes up for the recent drought of news and content.

Firstly, they immediately showed off Gala Alex, since she’s a given at this point and we all knew it was gonna happen. Funnily enough she actually seems like she might more or less be bait for the banner happening afterward, which also seems to be a shadow element banner.

In general Gala Alex is a weird and complicated character and I’m not sure what to make of her. At first glance she doesn’t seem super essential or game-breaking, but she has poison infliction and buff dispel, so I’d probably benefit from getting her since I don’t really have good units with that sort of utility in my shadow team yet. But I’m not gonna bother doing more than the free daily tenfold summons on this gala, since as a whole she doesn’t interest me much and I think I could live without her.

On top of her weird skill chain mechanic which I’m struggling to wrap my head around, she also introduces the chain co-ability feature, but I’ll get to that later since it’s a whole big thing.

Hopefully she’ll at least let people start accepting sword units into eKai, lol. That fight has a very open and accepting meta, unless you’re a sword unit in which case you’re fucked because there’s currently no meta shadow sword units people want for that fight.

We’re also getting two separate platinum summons for this gala that cover the past gala units, which is honestly kinda tempting to me since I still don’t have Gala Elly, but I’d just have a 1/3 chance of getting her instead of the other two gala units on her platinum summon, who I already have, so it wouldn’t be worth it.

Then there’s a whole bunch of free summons and wyrmite from new endeavors and co-op rewards getting reset. Which will be helpful in building my stash back up, but I’m probably still gonna avoid spending any resources on this gala.

I’m happy that this gala seems like one I can skip, since I went all in to get Tobias, and I didn’t want to end up regretting that.

Anyway, we also got a look at the next raid event, which will start at the end of this month. It looks like it’s another shadow element one, which just reminds me even more how much we need another wind element raid event, but it looks cool. Aldred has a fun, edgy design. I hope he’s actually worth using. As a shadow unit, he’ll at least be competing with the most stacked element in the game. It also looks like the event’s story is gonna involve the Syndicate, which we’ve actually known about via wyrmprint lore since the game came out, but they’ve never come up until now, so that’s interesting.

They also showed off the banner units, who look cool, but it’d take a lot for me to want to summon for them since I have so many good shadow units as it is. They also said it’ll be another two-part banner, which is getting really annoying.

We’re also getting a rerun of the FEH collab event, along with some sort of a new part two event for it, so that’s cool. I started playing the game at the tail end of the FEH collab originally, but I didn’t actually take part in it since I had performance anxiety about doing any of the co-op stuff, lol. So this means i’ll at least finally be able to get Alfonse.

I think the part two event is probably gonna involve more Fire Emblem characters who’ll be on their own banner, but like with the existing FE units, i don’t really have any attachment to that franchise so I probably wouldn’t be interested in pulling for them.

Though on that note, they did say that all of the four existing FEH units will get mana spirals, which might be interesting. But since I already have Euden and Xainfried at 70MC, as well as Gleo, I don’t think I’d be interested in pulling for Marth, Fjorm, or Veronica, lol. It’s at least interesting to set up this precedent, though. I guess we can assume that if Megaman ever gets rerun, he’ll get a mana spiral too.

If we get new FEH units in a part two banner for the event, I feel like they might end up being a bit underwhelming, since they probably won’t come with mana spirals built into their kits, but we’ll see how it goes.

We also got teasers for the next three main story chapters, which isn’t what I expected at all. We already knew when they’d be coming out since they’re on a fixed schedule now, but I didn’t expect actual teasers of the story content in them. Though tbh the thing that intrigues me the most is the gameplay clips of chapter 14 that involve unique maps based around the Alberian capital. I didn’t think we’d get to actually do stuff there, so that’s cool.

Also, them teasing at Leif showing up in chapter 13 is making me think that either he’ll be the next gala unit, or a welfare unit. Hopefully the latter, since he’s obviously a light sword unit and we already have Gala Euden as a light sword. If he’s a welfare unit, though, I hope he’s not super weak like Laxi.

We’re also getting the event replay feature, but sadly it seems like there won’t be any raid events in it at first, and the facility events included from the start are ones that have gotten reruns relatively recently. So that’s a bit lame. I’m glad they said that they plan on adding raid events to it, though. It looks like you can at least get the facilities from the facility events, so I hope we can also get the welfare units from raid events.

With the new version update they’re also apparently introducing a new currency called fafnir medals which can, to some degree or another, be exchanged for different materials. There’s a whole list of them, but let’s be honest here. The only one that actually matters is the gold testaments, lmao. Unless there’s a really rigid cap on how many of them you can trade for each week/month, that’ll probably be the main thing people trade for. Hopefully it can help address the need for more testaments [especially now that co-abilities are a bit more important]

Then there’s a few bits and pieces to the 1.18 update that they didn’t even mention in the digest. Like how there’ll be adjustments to daily endeavors, the addition of normal endeavors related to using skip tickets on your daily stages, and the ability to check your summon history. But the biggest deal they didn’t mention is how they’re standardizing drop rates in e/mHDTs, and adding horns to the weekly bonus chests for eHDTs. Which is basically exactly what people had been asking for.

We’re also eventually gonna get our encyclopedia feature, which will be nice, especially since it apparently comes with rewards based on how much stuff you have. Which will probably provide a huge batch of rewards to old players right off the bat.

They also showed off two more Agito bosses, who will probably be the next two ones. They didn’t say which would come out next, exactly, but we at least got their names and full designs, which also spells out what elements they are. I can’t actually remember their names at the moment, but the Sylvan lady is water, while the twins are flame. Since wind units have been getting some attention lately, I think the Sylvan lady will be next, and then the flame twins afterward, but we’ll see. One way or another I think the final Agito is gonna be the shadow element one. Which is a bit lame, since my light team really needs a boost. Oh well.

Oh, and they also teased at the Agito, or at least Volk, being formally introduced in chapter 14 of the main campaign, so that’s interesting.

And of course one of the biggest things in this whole update is the huge changes to co-abilities in general. Chain co-abilities are the main thing, but I’m also really intrigued by how in co-op matches, you’ll now take on the effects of your own team’s co-abilities, rather than the co-abilities of the main units your team-mates are using. On the one hand it means you can more comfortably run multiple units of the same weapon type in co-op without feeling like it’s a waste, but I feel like it’s also gonna introduce new ways to cheese some fights, like how 4-Gleo comps can now benefit from stuff like defensive co-abilities from AI units. I think that sort of situation was an intentional choice on Cygames’ part, though. It seems like their way of helping to make end-game content easier and more accessible. It also means that you have to depend less on your team-mates if you need stuff like defensive coabilities to survive an opening blast or something. So you can control that yourself and not worry about what co-op room you end up in.

But the real star of the show, whether or not it ends up being more game-changing than the change to how co-abilities are applied in general, is the chain co-ability feature. Which basically just seems to be a straight up second co-ability that every unit gets, but with the unique quality that they can stack with each other. I don’t actually know how often you’d bother stacking them, though. I looked through all the units I own and what chain co-abilities they have, and it seems like in each element, it’s usually units of the same weapon type that have overlapping chain co-abilities [like Mitsuhide and Fritz getting combo time]. So most of the time I don’t think you’d bother. It also looks like they’re kinda under-tuned, stat-wise, probably to compensate for them being stackable, so I think they might ultimately not be a huge deal, but hey, it’s just a straight up bonus set of stats on top of everything else, lol.

It’s a bit overwhelming since literally EVERY character has a chain co-ability now, and there’s way more variety in them than with regular co-abilities, but there are a few that stick out to me.

-Water seems to be the only element with units that have buff time chain co-abilities, from what I can tell, with Renee, S-Estelle, and Cibella having it. I think this might make S-Estelle a more valued AI team-mate for water teams, since buff time is a pretty big deal, and she also brings the skill damage coability.

-Light seems like one of the main cases where you might stack chain co-abilities, since S-Luca, Annelie, and Fritz have the same one that gives a strength buff whenever you get an energy stack [with a cooldown]. Which I think has a lot of potential, depending on how exactly it works.

-On a similar note, Lucretia has one that gives her a chance to get inspiration stacks when she gets energy stacks [I forget if it applies to just her or the whole team, though], which is interesting. I had a feeling they’d start adding inspiration mechanics to light to complement the amount of energy mechanics going on with them.

-OG Xainfried gets Dragon Claws VI, which seems like it’ll probably be a pretty huge deal for him. Pipple also gets about 18% dragon haste when he’s maxed out, which seems like it’d complement really nicely with Xainfried’s kit.

-Mitsuhide and Fritz’s combo time chain co-ability is gonna be REALLY nice for Gala Luca, since he kinda struggles to keep a high combo, but part of his kit relies on it.

-There’s a whole lot of units who get defensive chain co-abilities which will probably help people get by in HDTs even more. Including units with offensive co-abilities like Mikoto and Valerio.

All in all it seems like a really overwhelming and potentially game-changing mechanic. I also think it’s gonna be just about impossible to properly reflect the implications of it in the DPS sims, lol. This introduces way too many variables. And even then, the DPS sims won’t account for any of the more defensive ones, which have their own value.

Since the chain co-abilities seem to be tied to the regular co-abilities with how they get upgraded, it sounds like this is gonna incentivize getting more people’s co-ability nodes, which will also involve more use of testaments.

The chain co-abilities are one thing, but there’s also some interesting uses for how you benefit from your own AI members’ co-abilities in co-op. Mainly for characters with unique co-abilities like Tobias, H-Mym, and V-Melody. I think Ezelith is gonna basically always want to have an H-Mym on her team, Lin You is gonna want V-Melody on her team, and any wind buffer other than Tobias is gonna want a Tobias on the team to give them more buff-time.

Oh, and I almost forgot that they also casually mentioned that they’re gonna be bringing back defensive battle event types in the future. They didn’t go into much detail about it, but I assume it means that we’ll get more random events once in a while with the same sort of format as the FEH one. Hopefully that’d help alleviate the feeling of stagnation that comes with constantly alternating between raid and facility events endlessly. Since I didn’t actually participate in the FEH event I don’t know what that whole event type entails, though.

I’m probably forgetting lots of stuff they talked about, but they talked about a LOT of stuff, lol. It’s hard to keep track of it all. I wasn’t expecting such a substantial update for the 1.5-year anniversary, but I’m happy with it.

[commentaryvorg]

Danganronpa V3 Commentary: Bonus 2 - Demo

This is a commentary of the demo of DRV3 from the perspective of someone who is coming back to it after seeing the entire main game. There will be significant spoilers for the main story.

Welp, turns out that covering the demo is going to be more of a pain than I anticipated, because I didn’t already have it, and it’s no longer available in the UK store. So I’m going to have to use a Youtube video of it, which is a lot more annoying than you might think, because you have no idea how useful the game’s backlog function has been for this commentary.

I suppose I should preface this by mentioning that I did see the demo of this game before experiencing the game proper, but it was a fan translation of the Japanese demo something like a year or two earlier, so my memory of it by the time I saw the main game was pretty fuzzy. I only remembered a few things: that Kaede was the protagonist and the Ultimate Pianist, thinking it neat that we had a protagonist who was female, and who had a talent rather than being ordinary. I vaguely remembered Tenko, Himiko and Ryoma’s character quirks – I suppose thse were the ones that stuck in my mind. I remembered Kokichi being kind of a dick who kept trying to make the trial about himself and was therefore clearly this game’s answer to Nagito, because of course Kokichi had to try and be the centre of attention even in the demo and so that stuck in my mind.

And I remembered an astronaut dude who at least superficially seemed to have the kind of personality I generally like in a character – but I very firmly told myself not to get too excited about this, because this is Danganronpa and there is every chance that the narrative won’t give a fuck about how likeable he is and he’ll just get randomly, gratuitously killed off and I would regret ever getting attached to him. This, uh, may have partly influenced my belief during the main game that the narrative considered Kaito expendable and was totally going to kill him off at the slightest provocation, even after he started being very clearly important to the story.

It also very obviously did not stop me getting attached to him as the actual story progressed. I remember desperately trying to rein myself in throughout the first half of chapter 2 as Kaito became more and more adorable and good and Exactly My Kind of Character in his support of Shuichi. Then I got to the part during the investigation in which Kaito gave his speech about believing in people just because he wants to while acknowledging that there’s a risk to it that he’s simply choosing not to worry about so that he can believe wholeheartedly. This was so perfectly applicable to what had been going on in my own head with regards to getting attached to Kaito himself – I so desperately wanted to believe in him and care about him and get invested in his story, yet I was so afraid of what might happen if I did. But thanks to Kaito’s own words, I decided right then and there to not let that fear hold me back any more.

…That’s a first-time-me story that I really should have told at the time during chapter 2 but didn’t, so you’re getting it here instead. Anyway! The demo.

“Daily Life”

Kaede:  (My last name roughly means “passionate red maple tree”. It doesn’t really fit me, but… I still like my last name.)

Kaede starts us off with an introduction of herself, probably trying to make this reminiscent of the DR1 opening. They can’t exactly do that in this game’s real opening, what with the whole pregame-and-reset thing. It’s pretty awkward here that she’s telling us about her last name when nobody’s going to be calling her that in English, so it’s probably for the best that didn’t stay. I think “passionate red maple tree” suits her at least a little, though – she is very passionate!

Kaede:  (Huh? Wait, who am I even talking to?)

That’s a good question! There’s going to be quite a bit of sort-of fourth wall breaking in this demo. But… this is Danganronpa V3, in which a lot of what seemed like fourth wall breaking wasn’t really doing that at all. So maybe this is actually Kaede just being pushed into being all self-introductory in her inner monologue by the Flashback Light that created her, and here she’s having a brief moment of realising that makes no sense.

She finds herself waking up at a desk – again, like the original DR1 opening and less like the actual DRV3 opening. There’s no falling out of a locker and no Shuichi (not here, anyway).

“Makoto”:  “Oh, are you awake? Good morning, Kaede.”

Instead, there’s… Makoto.

So here’s the thing about this demo. Makoto, and later Hajime, are randomly in it. Going into the demo with the assumption that DRV3 is in a different universe from the Hope’s Peak story makes this just seem like a silly fourth-wall-breaking thing. It also wouldn’t work to imagine this is set in the Hope’s Peak universe, because then Makoto and Hajime should both be much older than high school age, not to mention whatever shenanigans should be going on with Hajime. So it’s easiest to assume that, oh, this is just some silly uncanonical nonsense because it’s a demo and it doesn’t need to make sense.

But! Having finished DRV3 and gone back to this demo knowing the truth of the V3 story, this actually can make some kind of sense within the V3 universe. Because this is a universe where Makoto and Hajime exist as fictional characters. This whole demo could in fact be some show set up by Team Danganronpa to build hype for their new series before it properly starts, including pandering to those genwunners and twoers in the audience by featuring Makoto and Hajime – which is to say, people cosplaying as them. Hence me using inverted commas for his name in the quotes here like I did for everyone Tsumugi cosplayed in trial 6. It’s not really Makoto Naegi at all.

(This still doesn’t totally work in the canon DRV3 universe, because, given the reset and the fact that they were accidentally their pregame selves at first, it seems unlikely that Team Danganronpa would really have done this “demo” in between the reset at all. This isn’t quite something that actually happened in canon before the story we saw began – it’s more just an AU scenario that could have hypothetically happened before the main killing game started, if things had gone a little differently.)

Makoto introduces himself as the Ultimate Lucky Student and even gets a proper Ultimate title card for it.

Kaede:  “Only one student in the entire country!? That’s amazing! You must be really lucky!”

No, Kaede, it doesn’t mean he’s always really lucky; that is not how luck works. He just got incredibly lucky this one time but is otherwise entirely ordinary. Luck as an actual goddamn superpower like it supposedly was for Nagito still grates on me (and there’s no convincing proof to me that Makoto also had that superpower).

Makoto mysteriously already knows Kaede’s name and talent. He explains that it’s because information about the students here is on public record – that is how the real Makoto learned about everyone in DR1, after all – but that’s probably not really the truth here, is it.

There’s a very genuinely-fourth-wall-breaky letter on the desk telling Kaede that to progress the story she just needs to come to the gym, but she can wander around and have the other students introduce themselves to her first if she wants. Obviously anyone doing this demo for the first time would want to do that – the whole point is getting to know the characters!

The layout of the school has been changed a bit in the demo to make things simpler and keep some locations a surprise. Kaede was in not Classroom B on the second floor, but Classroom A, aka the lookout classroom. Or what would function as a lookout classroom if only there was a basement, but the stairs to the basement have instead been replaced by a big red door that will lead to the trialgrounds. The stairs to the second floor are completely blocked off with an opaque shutter, so that all you can access is the first floor, and they moved the gym closer than usual to cut out the part of the corridor containing the locked things leading to Himiko and Kaito’s labs. Apparently they didn’t want to give any kind of tantalising promise of further areas that you’ll get to fully explore in the main game. Meanwhile, the front door that would lead out into the courtyard instead connects directly to the dorms, so that the demo never even shows us that they’re trapped inside a dome.

Everyone’s introductions are more or less the same as they will be in the main game, with Makoto filling in the part in the conversation that Shuichi would have played, if need be. Certain parts are left out if they were less about the character and more specifically about the main story in a way that isn’t relevant in the demo.

Rantaro is the first person we meet. Makoto says he doesn’t know Rantaro’s talent because it wasn’t on public record, but is still insistent that he definitely has a talent. This is totally because he’s just being good old hopeful Makoto and definitely not that he knows exactly what Rantaro’s talent is and why it’s being kept a secret right now, right.

Hajime is also hanging around in the corridors as if he’s a regular student. He gets “Ultimate ???” as well in his title card, even though he goes on to admit that he doesn’t have a talent. He doesn’t mention the Reserve Course, though. I guess the Ultimate Academy isn’t supposed to have one of those.

“Makoto”:  “Well, Hajime, we have seniority, but… She’s the protagonist this time around.”

Ahaha, here we go. One of the things the demo very gleefully does is make a big deal of how Kaede is the protagonist. Did you know Kaede is the protagonist of this game, guys? Because she is very definitely the protagonist of this game.

This would also sort of work with the whole fiction thing, except not so much, because the in-universe protagonist is supposed to be Keebo. So this is a thing that really is just out-universely here for the sake of the demo and doesn’t quite make sense in-universe with what Team Danganronpa are doing here.

Kaede:  (And also… what did they mean by ‘protagonist’?)

At least, for her part, Kaede is very confused by all this.

Shuichi is also just hanging around in the corridor like a totally regular student and not the actual protagonist of this game. I didn’t remember him from the demo at all until seeing him in the main game jogged my memory, because without him being Kaede’s investigation partner, he kinda just blends into the background like the introvert he is.

Shuichi:  “I don’t even remember enrolling in this academy. But it seems I did…”

Bonus dialogue you get from talking to him again after his main introduction shows that he’s very much thinking about the important questions, though. In the main game, while nobody remembered being kidnapped, everyone’s general assumption was that they were brought here against their will and forgot how. However, in the demo, it seems most people are assuming they somehow got enrolled in this academy and are just having a slightly odd version of a school introduction. Only a few people are questioning this idea.

(Kaede actually mentioned at the very beginning that she remembered being kidnapped, but then the writing apparently forgets about that, because she never mentions it to anybody else. Nor does anyone else mention remembering something similar.)

Since there’s no outside in the demo and therefore no wall to be thinking about trying to get over, Kaito is just in the dining hall here. Everyone whose introduction in the main game is in a location that doesn’t exist in the demo just gets put somewhere random instead. Kaito’s lines about getting over the wall are therefore also removed from his introduction, which means that we sadly don’t get as much of a sense of his unshakeable determination and philosophy about not complaining when you could be trying to make things better.

Kaito:  “But now that I’m thinking about it, why am I at this academy? I wanna blast off into space ASAP! Weird situations like this are only gonna slow me down…”

Kaito is also asking the important questions. Why is he doing this thing that isn’t working towards going to space? That doesn’t make any sense as something that he’d choose to do! He should be in astronaut training, not enrolling in some weird academy!

Maki immediately introduces herself and her cover-story talent rather than not wanting to do so at first. She also doesn’t have any of her lines about how she doubts they’ll be able to escape this and they shouldn’t be working together with strangers, so a lot of the hints towards her interestingness are gone from the demo, boo.

Maki:  “I don’t even remember enrolling in this academy, but… Do you know what’s going on?”

At least she’s asking the important questions, too! I wonder if that “but” is a hint at her thinking “but at least this isn’t as bad as having to kill people”. Or so she thinks.

As Kaede finishes meeting everyone and is about to head into the gym…

“Makoto”:  “Sorry, but this is where we part ways. I can’t go past this point. …Because you’re the protagonist now, Kaede.”

Kaede:  “What?”

“Makoto”:  “From here on, you’re the one who’s going to learn about this situation we’re in. You might feel despair… but I don’t want you to throw away hope!”

Oh man, the buzzwords. I’m pretty sure that even post-DR1-ending, despite literally being declared the Ultimate Hope, Makoto did not throw around these buzzwords as meaninglessly as this. This really is just someone desperately trying to sound like him, isn’t it.

It’s also very strange that apparently Makoto can’t be with her for the explanation of the killing game. You’d think, even if he already knew what was happening (which, fair enough, Makoto has done this before), he’d want to be there with Kaede to reassure her through the bad news. But he has to leave for no particular reason.

(Also, reminder, Kaede is the protagonist, you guys.)

Kaede:  (Protagonist? Hope? Despair? What does any of that mean?)

Heh, I like how she’s also bewildered by the sudden buzzwords and not just the protagonist part.

For some reason it’s only Kaede and not all the other students here getting this announcement about the killing game. I guess, since this is not remotely how it happens in canon, writing sixteen characters having new reactions to this would be too much of a pain for what’s only here to justify the demo having a trial.

It does also mean that most people – including Kaede herself, since Monokuma alone doesn’t count as a witness – don’t have alibis for the “murder” that’s about to happen.

Monokuma:  “While you live together, you’re all responsible for maintaining the harmony of the academy. But if someone was to disrupt that harmony…”

Geez, is this the game scrambling to justify the Killing Harmony subtitle again? I wonder what this was in Japanese. (But I’m not quite curious enough to actually check, because this is only the demo.)

Kaede:  “D-Don’t mess around with us! I would never… murder anyone!”

Hee, that’s also there even though this is the demo.

Monokuma:  “Don’t you see, Kaede? This is how your story begins.”

Kaede:  “‘My story’? What does that even mean?”

They really are dropping hints to the whole fiction thing even in the demo. Although, again, this doesn’t work so well in an in-universe sense because Keebo is the in-universe protagonist (and because Tsumugi was definitely planning to have Kaede get herself killed in the first chapter, probably largely for the sake of Shuichi’s story.)

Monokuma then tells Kaede to go and check out her room in the dormitory. It seems he already knows that she’s going to find someone dead in there.

Kaede’s door awkwardly has Makoto and Hajime’s portraits slapped onto it as well. Monokuma shows up to explain to her that this is the “Protagonists’ Room”, for all three of them! (Did you know Kaede is the protagonist.)

Once she goes inside, everything’s a mess, with slash marks all over the furniture and walls, kind of like in the first case in DR1.

And Yasuhiro Hagakure is dead in the shower with a kitchen knife in his stomach.

“Deadly Life”

Monokuma:  “Geez, this is like the second time he’s died already… Eh, you guys can just ignore that.”

As Monokuma cheekily alludes to here, this is an amusing little nod to the original demo of DR1. Apparently, to keep Sayaka’s death a surprise for the main game, they instead made Hiro the victim there. Looks like they decided to make him the victim again here!

Given the reality of the situation, this cannot really be Hiro, because he doesn’t exist. Which means that most likely, nobody is actually dead at all – this is just a Hiro cosplayer doing their best impression of a corpse.

Hajime is here to help investigate the dorm room. Kaito, Miu, Kirumi and Ryoma also show up in the room to investigate. (But apparently nobody else thought that confirming if a murder has really taken place and trying to figure out the culprit so they don’t get punished was important? Not even Shuichi?)

It’s also relevant to note that nobody looks very closely at Hiro’s “corpse” to confirm whether he’s actually dead.

Kaito:  “So does this mean someone believed that the only way to get out of here… was by killing someone?”

Ryoma:  “Hmph… The dead body is proof of that. There’s no way a body would end up quite like this by accident.”

Kaito:  “Damn it… why’d they kill him? Why didn’t they just talk things over with us?”

Kaede:  “Yeah, we haven’t searched the whole school yet. There could still be a way out of here.”

Kaito:  “Yeah, that’s exactly right! And they resorted to this, right off the bat… When we find the culprit, I’m gonna punch some sense back into them!”

I love how Kaito this is. He can’t get his head around the fact that anyone would give up so quickly. He realises that they most likely just did it because they were scared and wanted to escape and therefore it’s somewhat understandable, but even then, he can’t see why they would resort to it so soon without having tried every other possible option first, including talking to everyone else and trying to co-operate. He’s not angry at the culprit for being a cold-blooded killer, but rather for being so weak, in the sense that they didn’t even want to try and get stronger, and so they did something this awful out of cowardice.

And also look at him and Kaede clearly being on the same wavelength about working together to escape and not giving up!

Kaito doesn’t contribute any Truth Bullets to this investigation, but I’m delighted that he’s here in this room anyway so we could have this little insight into the way he thinks about things like this. This is nuanced enough that people playing this demo before the main game just to get a basic sense of the characters probably aren’t really going to think much of it – but it’s here anyway, because Kaito is this nuanced and complex of a character and he would react like this in this situation, regardless of how unnecessary him doing so is to the purpose of this demo. I love Kaito so much.

Ryoma:  “Going straight to an investigation? That’s pretty forward-thinking of you. Even if you’re used to seeing dead bodies, it’d be stupid not to feel anything.”

Meanwhile, Ryoma is already being perceptive and making observations about Kaede’s character, which is a very him thing to be doing.

Kaede:  “But we have to do this. I don’t want everyone else to die…”

Ryoma:  “Hmph… You’re rather motivated to stay alive. I wish I had… No, never mind.”

There’s also a little hint at Ryoma’s lack of motivation to live and desire to find one, which is neat!

(It’s a shame that, even though Kaito is also here and presumably overhearing this, he doesn’t comment. I’d have liked that a lot.)

The lack of any hair in the room was a clue in this case in DR1, but this time, there’s a single short brown hair here, about the colour and length of Makoto or Hajime’s. This is despite the fact that Hajime claims he’s never been in the room before now and that Kirumi cleaned all of the dorms shortly before the murder was discovered. Kaede also notes during this conversation that it’s odd she hasn’t seen Makoto since she went into the gym. Hmmm.

Just as Makoto finally shows up and is about to help Kaede investigate everywhere else, the Monokubs appear. They have not been in the demo until now. Why did they need to be in the demo at all. It would be a more favourable advertisement of the game to pretend they don’t exist, you know, demo writers! They literally do not contribute anything of value to the narrative by showing up here.

Kaito:  “Buncha cowards… Trying to interrupt my investigation with their stupid crap.”

Oh, Kaito. This is basically chapter 1 Kaito, who has no sidekicks yet and is instead desperately trying to feel like he can make a difference by doing something. Hence him making a point that this is his investigation. He leans towards this kind of attitude a couple of times in the main story, too, particularly in chapter 1 when he has no sidekicks, and in chapter 4 when he’s feeling like his support of his sidekicks isn’t enough and wants to be more of an action-oriented hero. This is bound to be the reason he’s here in this room at all despite not contributing anything to the player’s investigation – because he’s trying to do something about this, even though he doesn’t really know how!

Kaito:  “Whatever… If I get serious, I can solve this case in no time flat!”

I don’t like this, though. It implies that he’s currently not being serious and would ever willingly slack off from something this important. That’s not in character. Kaito is always trying his hardest and always wants people to know he’s trying his hardest; he’d never use “oh but I just wasn’t really trying” as an excuse for the gap between how much he wants to make a difference and how much he actually can. It reads like some writer is superficially trying to get across the fact that Kaito talks big without backing it up, without truly understanding why he’s that way and keeping it in line with that. It’s odd, since the conversation just earlier showed quite a nuanced understanding of Kaito’s character, as opposed to this.

(If I were playing this demo myself, I would immediately talk to Kaito again after this to see if he has anything else to say on this matter, but because I’m forced to use Youtube, I can’t see if he does. There are words that Kaito said that could have been interesting that I’m unaware of dammit this is why I’m mad I had to use Youtube for this. Admittedly it’s most likely just him repeating those lines, or continuing to be written badly… but what if it isn’t.)

Kaede asks Makoto where he went off to, and he claims he was wandering around the school trying to find a way out or at least a map to help Kaede out. That does not properly explain why he insisted he couldn’t come into the gym with her in the first place, but okay.

Hajime stays behind to guard the crime scene while Makoto accompanies Kaede out of the dorm to investigate elsewhere. Makoto is getting a lot more screentime than Hajime in this demo. Still more genwunners than twoers in this audience, apparently.

Maki:  “The crime occurred in the Protagonists’ Room. Stupid name aside, that’s your room, isn’t it?”

Aha, good old Maki, always Done™ with everyone’s nonsense.

Maki:  “I don’t intend to just go with the easiest answer… But at the same time… I have no reason to trust you guys either.”

This is very Maki, not wanting to trust people without a good reason but also not being so stupid and hasty as to jump to any conclusions just because she doesn’t trust anyone.

Himiko:  “Kaede, is it true? Did a murder really happen?”

Apparently some of these people really didn’t actually go and check out the body for themselves. You’d think they’d want to confirm it… but to be fair, it is very believable that Himiko in particular wouldn’t.

Kokichi:  “Why’d ya kill him, Kaede? Did you really wanna escape that badly?”

Of course this is Kokichi’s immediate greeting to Kaede upon seeing her during the investigation. Of course.

Kaede:  “N-No! I didn’t do anything!”

Kokichi:  “So you’re saying the culprit has to be either Makoto or Hajime… Because if you didn’t do it, then that’s what you’re getting at, right?”

And of course he’d also think that she’d happily turn on the two people apparently closest to her and throw them under the bus to protect herself.

He really does (most likely, not that you can ever be sure with him) seem to believe it’s one of the three of them simply because it was their room. Look who is jumping to conclusions because he doesn’t trust anyone.

(I should point out that the room was unlocked the entire time and so there is literally no concrete reason to suspect the room’s owners above anybody else.)

“Makoto”:  “Did you see Hiro?”

Tsumugi:  “No, I didn’t. I think I’d definitely remember seeing hair like his.”

If the students who aren’t in the room right now didn’t see the body, how does Tsumugi know what Hiro’s hair looks like? This might be a very subtle clue as to the mastermind’s identity, because of course Tsumugi would know what Hiro’s hair looks like anyway.

(I’d say that actually she could have seen him from the Monokuma File, but based on Himiko’s comment earlier, I’m not sure if everyone necessarily has a Monokuma File to even know for sure that someone’s dead?)

Shuichi:  “One of us killed Hiro… That’s what Monokuma said… But… I don’t think that’s the only possibility.”

Indeed it isn’t. There’s also the possibility that nobody killed anyone.

…I still don’t know why Shuichi isn’t in the dorm room to actually confirm whether or not Hiro is dead and do a proper investigation himself. Then again, if he did, we’d immediately know this class trial is bogus, so.

Kaede:  “Shuichi, do you suspect me, too?”

Shuichi:  “Ah, you don’t seem like the kind of person who would kill somebody… But… until I find evidence that proves you innocent…”

Kaede:  “That’s true…”

Shuichi:  “S-Sorry, it’s not that I *want* to suspect you, I just…”

Kaede:  “No, it’s fine… That’s what the Ultimate Detective is supposed to do…”

Aww, Shuichi. He’s caught between the part of him that hates suspecting and accusing people (even when he has no particularly strong reason to trust Kaede in this universe) and the detective side of him that knows it’s the right way to deal with this situation. I complained about him not investigating, but maybe it’s simply because he’s afraid to thanks to his issues, and without the bond with Kaede that he has in canon, he can’t overcome that fear and manage to investigate anyway. Shuichi really does only manage to be a hero with others’ help.

Kaede:  “Don’t worry about me, just do your best to investigate. That’s what’s going to save us.”

Shuichi:  “… …Okay.”

Kaede:  (Huh? That was a dull response… What happened?)

Kaede is noticing that he doesn’t seem enthusiastic about the idea of investigating to save them! A tiny, tiny little hint at his issues, since for the most part this demo really doesn’t want to focus on Shuichi at all. (Kaede is the protagonist, after all.)

During a conversation with Kiyo, he notices something about the way Makoto is talking about the investigation and trial.

Kiyo:  “…You speak as if you are familiar with the process, yes?

“Makoto”:  “That’s… also something that we can talk about later.”

…

Kaede:  (Does Makoto know something…? I can trust him… can’t I?)

Of course, this reads perfectly innocently to anyone who knows Makoto is the protagonist from a previous Danganronpa game, but it genuinely must look pretty suspicious to Kaede. It’s a big testament to her general optimism and belief in people that she does still trust him even after all this.

One of the knives in the kitchen went missing while Tenko and Himiko were having tea in the dining hall. This is still really brazenly ripping off the first case of the first game.

And that’s the whole investigation, so everyone abruptly assembles in the trialgrounds which are right behind the red door, no elevator or Shrine of Judgement or anything.

“Hajime”:  “Monokuma… I don’t know what you’re scheming, but… I won’t let you do whatever you want!”

Monokuma:  “You’re an upperclassman protagonist… I think you can come up with a better line than that.”

“Makoto”:  “Hajime’s right! You can’t just do whatever you want with their lives!”

Monokuma:  “Geez, that’s basically what Hajime just said! You two need punch-up writers or something! Whether this demo is exciting or not depends entirely on you!”

Bahaha, this is such a deliberate attempt at pandering on the parts of Makoto and Hajime’s cosplayers, and is also so blatantly Monokuma calling them out for being kind of bad at this.

They have an awkward situation with this trial, given that there’s eighteen students here and only sixteen podiums. Obviously the game devs didn’t want to remodel the trialgrounds to have two extra podiums just for the demo.

Monosuke:  “I know! Let’s just pick two people at random and rip ‘em apart with the Exisals!”

The Exisals have not been shown or otherwise mentioned in this demo. This line must rather confuse people seeing this before the main game.

Obviously there is no actual Exisal-murdering and two people simply have to sit out. Kokichi decides out of nowhere that Keebo should sit out because of course he does, lol Keebo’s not a person or anything, and then it conveniently turns out that Rantaro was with Keebo the whole time so they can vouch for each other not being the blackened and both safely not take part. Rantaro not being part of the demo trial is probably because he’s not a part of any trials in the main game either. Keebo sitting out is… just because Kokichi is a robophobic dick, apparently. (In an in-universe sense, you’d think Monokuma would have more of an issue with this, because isn’t Keebo supposed to be the audience’s camera? More indication that he really isn’t the only camera they have, then.)

Rantaro demands that at least he and Keebo are each allowed to ask one question at the end if they don’t agree with everybody else on who the blackened is, and that in doing so they could potentially restart the discussion. This doesn’t ever matter because the demo’s going to end before the trial reaches a conclusion, but it does show that Rantaro is a very smart and cautious person.

Kaito:  “I’ll be carrying your lives, too! I’ll definitely do something about all this!”

But don’t worry, Rantaro and Keebo, Kaito is going to do something about this! You know, about this whole trial. Of course he is. Definitely. Even though it’s just the demo and it doesn’t really matter, his tendency to insist this out of his desperation to be able to make a difference is still here and it’s great. I also love the way he says he’ll be carrying their lives. Like he’s bearing that burden for them.

Kaito:  “And don’t worry! We’ve got the Ultimate Detective on our side!”

Also this!!! Kaito doesn’t seem to have interacted with Shuichi at all this whole demo, but that’s not going to stop him from believing in him, because with a talent like that he’s bound to be awesome, right? It is very delightfully reminiscent of the main story that Kaito says this immediately after his own bold declarations. Despite his big words and how much he genuinely intends to do his best to fulfil them (because Kaito is always trying), he knows that Shuichi’s really the one most able to save them in this situation. Kaito’s relying on and believing in Shuichi’s ability to be the real hero here. I love this tiny tiny nod to their delightful friendship dynamic in canon.

Shuichi:  “Huh?”

Shuichi is not used to people believing in his detective skills. Kaito really does mean it even though he’s only just met you, Shuichi!

Class Trial

In the trial, Makoto has Rantaro’s podium and Hajime has Keebo’s. I’m quite surprised that they didn’t do it the other way around – Keebo is after all basically meant to be Robot Makoto, and that would have been one reasonable excuse for leaving him in particular out.

Things start with people throwing out some baseless ideas. Tenko of course decides someone male must have done it.

Shuichi:  “We can’t rule out suspects that way… We need to look at all the possibilities.”

Shuichi, at least, is being rational about this. He doesn’t say much in this demo, but what he does say is always quite sensible.

Tenko:  “Kiyo looks creepy! That’s suspicious enough for me!”

Aaaaagh coming from Tenko in particular that’s just painful. Demo why would you do this.

By the way, fun fact: the English voicework for this demo was almost certainly recorded after that for the main game. How do I know? Because of Kaito’s voice. For the earlier trials in the main game, Kaito’s voice sounds a lot rougher and growlier, which becomes less of a thing as the game goes on. It’s gradual enough that you don’t notice it while it’s happening, but going from trial 4 Kaito back to trial 1 Kaito gives quite a noticeable difference. I assume this is because his voice actor started out consciously trying to emulate his Japanese voice, which is indeed quite gruff, but then as things went along he got more into the character and developed his own instinctive feel for Kaito’s voice, one which wasn’t as growly as it started out. And here in the demo, Kaito’s voice isn’t growly at all; it sounds like his lines from trial 4, not trial 1.

(The voice actor getting more into the role has to be the only reason for the gradual shift, because really, in-universe, Kaito’s voice should have been subtly getting more rough and growly as time went by, thanks to his illness getting worse. It’d have been really fun if that had been a thing. Alas.)

Kaito:  “He didn’t even have a chance to resist!”

Like in the main game, Kaito is the first person to be refuted. In trials where Shuichi is his sidekick, Kaito doesn’t tend to make any arguments at all and just sits back and lets Shuichi handle it (with the exception of trial 4, for chapter 4 reasons). But in trial 1 he didn’t have a sidekick and was instead trying to feel useful by actually contributing to the discussion despite knowing he might be wrong, kind of like in trial 4.

In the actual trial 1 in the main commentary, I explained why Kaito wasn’t being stupid even though he was wrong, but in this instance, he has simply been very rudely handed the idiot ball. Kaito was one of the people who investigated the dorm room! He saw the signs of a struggle!

Obviously, this argument is also mirroring the very first argument you refute in this case in DR1. But then they should have given this line to someone who actually wasn’t in the room and didn’t see the state of it, of which there are plenty of options. In DR1, the person who makes this argument is Chihiro, who didn’t investigate the room out of fear – and in fact, him making this assumption despite not knowing the facts was likely a sign of his issues about feeling weak, because of course he’d have been afraid of being killed by someone stronger without even being able to fight back, so he projected that onto Sayaka.

But Kaito making this argument here? Doesn’t make any sense or have any good reason for it. They’re apparently trying to have Kaito be the first person to be refuted like he is in the main game (and perhaps for similar reasons), while also having the first refuted argument in this case be the same as it was in the DR1 case. Either callback (or call-forward) alone would be fine, but doing both of them at once does not work and ends up very uncharitable towards Kaito.

Kaito:  “Okay, so that room wasn’t such a mess to begin with, then.”

They try and justify this by having it so that apparently Kaito thought the room was always that messy, but no, that doesn’t justify anything. Sure, I can potentially imagine Kaito as someone with a messy room himself (though if so it’s probably the “organised chaos” type in which he knows where everything is even if nobody else would have a clue), but this was more than just a messy room here. There were slash marks everywhere! Things were outright broken! Kaito is not stupid, and it is very rude of the demo to twist him out of character in order to give people a first impression of him that makes him seem like he is.

Kaede:  (The two people who fought in that room were…)

-      Kaede and Shuichi

It’s ridiculous that the demo is making us do a multiple choice to figure out that Hiro fought with the culprit, what the hell, that’s a Psyche Taxi level of stupidly obvious question there… but it’s interesting that this is one of the obviously-wrong answers. There’s been absolutely no indication of any kind of connection between Kaede and Shuichi in the demo, except for this.

Kaede:  “Of course, it was Hiro and the culprit.”

Kaito:  “Huh!? Really!?”

No! Stop it! Stop making Kaito seem like an idiot! He is not stupid! This one doesn’t even have any kind of excuse of trying to be a call-forward to the main game! There is no reason for this!

Kaito, I am so sorry you got handed this idiot ball, please just throw it away and pretend you never saw it, you don’t deserve this.

Miu: “Who else would it be, dumbass!?”

If that was supposed to be setup to give someone an excuse to call Kaito an idiot for the further bad writing that’s about to ensue, then, this is still uncalled for. When people call Kaito an idiot, they are not meant to be actually literally right about it!

Kaito:  “Who you callin’ a dumbass!? I’m Kaito Momota, Luminary of the Stars!”

…

Kokichi:  “Hey, you two idiots over there… Stop chit-chatting and keep this discussion moving.”

Miu:  “Hey! Don’t lump me in with that idiot! You’re talkin’ to the gorgeous girl genius, Miu Iruma!”

Kokichi:  “Yup, you two should be lumped together. Your statements are on the same level.”

No, they really, really shouldn’t be, and this is still doing a horrible disservice to Kaito. Kaito usually reacts strongly to being called an idiot, sure, but he does not do so by talking himself up, because he is not actually insecure enough to need to “prove” he isn’t one (unlike Miu, whose boasts always reek of insecurity). Comparing him to Miu like this is making it look like Kaito only talks himself up to save face for himself and protect his own ego when it’s being battered, like she does, and that he actually is just a useless idiot beneath these empty words, especially when he really just was one thanks to that undeserved idiot ball. That is so incredibly not even remotely the point of Kaito’s character, oh my god. Please stop, demo. How can you get some of the Kaito parts so right but others so horrendously wrong.

(It makes me feel better to imagine that Kaito’s actual main writers, the ones who created a very carefully-crafted character arc full of all of his delightful issues and principles and complexities, were just, I dunno, on lunch break or something, and some clueless intern with only a very superficial knowledge of Kaito as “an idiot who talks big” got to write some of his lines here while they were out. That clueless intern is probably also the one responsible for the tiny handful of Misogyny Bullets that hit Kaito and briefly forced him out of character for one line each throughout the main story, right?)

Moving on, Kokichi begins making a big point of how he suspects everyone whom the room belonged to, because of course he does. (Look at him acting all high and mighty and more intelligent than the two supposed “idiots” and then immediately turning around and jumping to unfounded conclusions. Clearly the smartest way to handle a class trial there.)

“Makoto”:  “The discussion won’t move forward if we all just point fingers. Like Shuichi said, we need to talk about all the possibilities.”

He may just be an actor pretending to be Makoto, but he’s got a goddamn point. Kokichi’s accusation flinging is never actually helpful.

Kaito:  “Yeah, what he said! No way Kaede’s the culprit!”

Welcome back, Kaito, it’s good to see you again! This is a very Kaito thing for him to do. He’s barely spoken to Kaede or seen much of her in the demo, but he did have that conversation with her at the crime scene where she agreed that the culprit should have tried to work together to escape before giving up and resorting to murder. His instincts are telling him that she really meant that and really is this kind of person! He has a hunch, and he’s right, because his hunches always are!

Kokichi:  “Kaito! This trial won’t go anywhere if you don’t suspect anyone!”

And this is a character dynamic involving Kaito that’s actually correct and relevant in the main game such that it makes sense to hint at it in the demo, thank you.

Shuichi:  “What we have to determine now… is the murder weapon.”

And of course Shuichi is the one who’s focusing on the actual logic and getting the trial back on track instead of arguing. This was a very trial 4 exchange we just had here.

Despite Shuichi’s attempt at being sensible, everyone else then starts arguing over whether certain people could have killed him with their bare hands, because it seems that nobody who saw the body feels the need to tell them it was a goddamn knife and also apparently no-one read the Monokuma File. I guess at least Kaito smashed his idiot ball into several smaller pieces and shared it around the group.

Shuichi:  “There was no indication the body was punched. I don’t believe fists were the murder weapon.”

Shuichi I know you’re hesitant about doing this detective thing and you maybe didn’t go to the scene but you clearly read the Monokuma File just tell them it was a knife please.

Ryoma:  “Then our murder weapon is… the knife stabbed into his gut?”

THANK YOU RYOMA I don’t know why you didn’t say this sooner but.

Kaede:  (I wonder… Was the murder weapon lodged in Hiro’s abdomen really a knife?)

Yes, Kaede, it was a fucking knife! But apparently the game wants us to be more specific about the fact that it was a kitchen knife. I don’t know if this works better in Japanese in that the word for kitchen knife doesn’t include the word “knife”, but even if so, it is still a type of knife! This is something else that was an argument made in the original DR1 case – someone says the culprit used “some random knife they had on them”, and Makoto counters that it was a kitchen knife because the more relevant point is where it came from. So really, to make this be even remotely sensible here, that should also be the question Kaede is asking herself. Not was it even a knife. What the hell.

This is specifically an excuse to demonstrate the Mind Mine minigame, which is a pretty bad example of it because the other two images that are options in it aren’t even knives. Not that Mind Mine is ever really a super justified minigame that doesn’t point out something rather obvious, but.

Another thing I remember about the fan translation of this demo that I originally watched was that this part apparently made the translator flip tables, because they broke immersion to have Kaede’s line announcing her answer also include something to the effect of “oh my god Kaede I can’t believe you had to do a whole minigame just to figure out it was a kitchen knife what the hell”. Same, though, random fan translator from years ago. Same.

Kaito:  “Yeah, I caught a glimpse of it too… That was definitely a kitchen knife.”

Oh hey, look who’s capable of observing and understanding basic facts! Yes, hello, we would like to apologise for our previous misinformation and inform everyone that Kaito is, in fact, not stupid, please disregard everything you may have heard in the past few minutes implying that he is, thank you.

Shuichi:  “A knife… I do remember seeing a knife in the kitchen. That could be it.”

Angie:  “I see, I see… An excellent deduction from the Ultimate Detective. Well done.”

Yes, clearly, Shuichi is the only person in this room capable of realising that kitchen knives come from the kitchen. I know I said Kaito isn’t stupid, but he still obviously pales in comparison to this detective genius right here.

Shuichi:  “Ah, it’s not because I’m a detective… I’m still in training…”

Shuichi is also apparently the only person sensible enough to realise that it wasn’t even a clever deduction. This is supposed to be a hint at his insecurity, but also he’s just making a very valid point.

Maki:  “You really don’t need to be a detective to know that the knife came from the kitchen.”

Thank you, Maki, for being one of the only other sensible people here. God, Maki is always such a breath of fresh air.

Kokichi:  “Geez, who cares about the murder weapon?”

Kaito:  “What do you mean, ‘who cares’!?”

Kokichi:  “We can already guess who the culprit is. There’s a super-duper huge hint already.”

Yeah, who cares about actual concrete evidence when we can randomly sling accusations around based on completely circumstantial stuff! This is so very Kokichi. I also appreciate that Kaito’s the one to question him.

After some discussion in which the three protagonists insist it wasn’t them, led largely by Maki, who of course has no qualms about suspecting them even though she’s not going to conclude it definitely was them yet…

Kokichi:  “Ugh, I already told you it’s not Kaede. Suspecting her right off the bat is so mean!”

Of course, the demo’s got to also have some of Kokichi’s transparent two-faced insincerity in an attempt to make everyone else’s belief in and defense of each other sound hollow and empty. Wouldn’t be Kokichi without that.

Kaito:  “Hey! You’re the one who brought it up!”

And Kaito’s the one to call him out on that, because of course he should be!

“Makoto”:  “We need to talk this over more to uncover the truth. This is a test.”

Kaede:  “Huh?” (This is a test…?)

The way it lingers on that comment makes it seem relevant. Maybe this is just another nod to this being a demo, which is meant to “test” players’ skills in preparation for the main game. Which could also potentially be the idea in-universe, if this is indeed being done as a test-run before they wipe everyone’s memories of this and put them in the real killing game (though as I said before, this still can’t have been quite what happened in real canon given the whole pregame reset thing).

Gonta:  “Gonta not good at tough subjects… but Gonta will work hard for everyone’s sake!”

Kaede:  “That’s right! We need to work together so we can overcome this class trial!”

Yaaaay, Gonta. He hasn’t really done much of note in this demo but he’s still here and doing his best! And also here’s some Kaede being very herself.

“Makoto”:  “Everything’s gone smoothly so far, but…”

Kaede:  “Huh? Did you say something, Makoto?”

“Makoto”:  “No… it’s nothing.”

Hah, Makoto really is acting quite suspiciously now, isn’t he.

Ryoma:  “Either way, we’ve got three main suspects now…”

No, we haven’t, we only ended up on this topic because of Kokichi’s random accusation slinging, can we get back to talking about the knife, please. Ryoma, you are meant to be smarter than this.

Kaito:  “It’s not any of them! I believe in these guys!”

Oh, Kaito. I’m a little more surprised that his intuition is giving him a fully positive read on “Makoto” and “Hajime”, but he hasn’t interacted with them that much either and their acting has been fine so far and made them seem superficially heroic, so, eh, fair enough.

Shuichi:  “If we can determine who took the murder weapon from the kitchen… that would clear Kaede of suspicion.”

Yes, thank you, let’s talk about the evidence. Shuichi’s is always the most sensible voice in the room. I also like how he’s thinking of it as clearing Kaede of suspicion – he really doesn’t want to think she did it.

Kirumi:  “First, we should listen to Kaede and the others’ testimonies.”

This whole thing of awkwardly veering the topic onto these three suspects in particular (thanks to our convenient Kokichi in the room just wanting to be overly suspicious of everyone) is actually an excuse to demonstrate a Mass Panic Debate. Which is a horrendously bad example of one of these. They’re supposed to happen when people get so riled up at being suspected that they all talk over each other, but Kaede, Makoto and Hajime have been quite calm and level-headed about this, and each happily agree to Kirumi’s suggestion to let them testify. So they shouldn’t need to talk over each other!

And then, to make things even more confusing and distract even more from what’s supposed to be the point of a Mass Panic Debate, Monokuma and his cubs awkwardly interrupt to declare that Kaede can’t participate and they’re arbitrarily going to make someone else testify about their alibi instead of her. This is of course because Kaede is the protagonist and so can’t participate in a playable debate, and it’s also because the person they’re having testify instead is someone who actually has testimony about who took the knife and is therefore the relevant thing to shoot at. But my god, does this end up giving a completely unclear and misleading impression of what a Mass Panic Debate is even supposed to be for. When I first saw this demo, I remember being confused as hell and thinking it was pointlessly gimmicky to have three Nonstop Debates at once for no apparent reason. It completely fails to communicate the idea that these are supposed to be less about the gameplay and more about narrative tension (even if only one of the Mass Panic Debates in the main game really pulls that off to its full potential).

The third testimony in question is from Himiko, who was having tea with Tenko when somebody took the knife. Specifically, she was lecturing Tenko about the difference between real magic and a magic trick, because of course she was. It’s cute that Tenko was happy to listen to her.

Tenko doesn’t know who it was who came in, because it was a dude, and so, being Tenko, she didn’t pay him any attention beyond that. This jogs Himiko’s memory, though…

Himiko:  “Nyeh… now that I think about it, someone was in the kitchen. Someone who’s no longer with us…”

…and then she decides to tell us all who it was in the vaguest possible way instead of just saying “it was Hiro” or “it was the victim”. Which is in fact a very transparent way to shoehorn in, drumroll please, the actual stupidest Psyche Taxi segment in the game, for real this time! At least if you count the demo as part of this game.

Credit to them, they actually did put Kaede in the car and not Shuichi. I think  her car might be a little different, too? The idea of driving through Vegas to pick up sex workers is… basically just as out-of-character for Kaede as it was for Shuichi, given that she’s a huge piano nerd without many friends, not that that part of her character has been illustrated at all in the demo. (She’s still picking up women, but then there are a few comments Kaede makes that strongly hint she’s bi, so hey.)

The two (at least it’s only two; even they couldn’t stretch this out into three or four) questions asked here are: “Who is not here?” [Victim/Culprit] and then “Who is the victim of this case?” [Hajime/Hiro/Makoto]. Yup, they actually thought those were questions that anyone ever would have to think about at all.

…I mean, they probably didn’t really. And to be fair, this is pretty similar to how stupid actual Psyche Taxis are, so, uhh, representative demo gameplay???

Kaede:  “Are you saying Hiro’s the one who went into the kitchen?”

Because obviously Kaede had to drive a taxi through her mind to figure this out, and nobody else in the room figured it out in less time than it took her to do that. And she also couldn’t possibly have just asked Himiko to clarify who she meant in the first place.

But hey, the one who took the knife from the kitchen was in fact the victim. More references to the DR1 case! I wonder if we’re supposed to think that Hiro was secretly planning murder and not just taking it for self-defence. Honestly I wouldn’t entirely put that past him; if anyone would be the kind of coward looking for an easy way out that Kaito was denouncing back in the investigation, he seems a reasonable candidate for it.

Having realised that the one who took the knife isn’t the culprit after all, suspicion falls back on the three protagonists, particularly Kaede as she discovered the body.

“Makoto”:  “No, that’s wrong!”

“Hajime”:  “Yeah! You’ve got that wrong!”

Monokuma:  “Oh? The two leads just said their catchphrases! Finally, this is getting exciting!”

Man, this is apparently some genwunner-audience-shallowness worthy of trial 6 if they’re supposed to think that a couple of people just yelling “no, that’s wrong!” somehow makes things the height of entertainment. Admittedly the rest of the trial has not exactly been riveting, but still.

“Makoto”:  “Kaede… don’t give up hope. Keep going and you’ll be able to reach the truth!”

He can’t just tell her to not give up – he has to throw in that buzzword and make sure everyone knows that this is about hope. Look, guys, he’s totally Makoto.

Kaede:  “But, how do I prove my innocence?”

“Hajime”:  “That’s…”

…But neither of them actually know how to do this and are just spouting meaningless protagonisty lines.

Kokichi:  “Fine! I guess my decisive testimony will help us find our culprit!”

Oh boy, it’s Kokichi Making Everything About Himself time.

Gonta:  “You know who culprit is? That means everyone not have to get punished!”

Aww, Gonta. Look at him naively believing everything Kokichi says, this is totally not foreshadowing for anything important and tragic in the main game, not at all.

A couple of the other slower characters also go welp, great, this means the trial can be over soon.

Shuichi:  “Kokichi… if you had information like that, why didn’t you tell us sooner?”

Kokichi:  “Well, if I said something that important right away, that wouldn’t be much fun.”

But at least Shuichi is still being the most sensible and realising exactly what is so fishy about this. (This is also the question he has to worry about himself with regards to his own lies that he tells in canon.)

Kokichi’s response is “lol, for fun”, though, because of course it is, and that is exactly what he would do if this testimony he’s about to give weren’t a lie. Especially considering that that’s the usual reason why he really does frequently withhold important information from everyone else in canon.

Kokichi:  “Anyway… the culprit is Makoto.”

From just the text alone, this could seem like it’s deliberately being reminiscent of Kokichi’s “Well, then… the culprit is Gonta” line in canon. But alas, the delivery is completely different – which I guess is fair enough, since here he’s just lying.

Kaede:  “Huh? Wh-What are you saying?”

“Makoto”:  “…”

Interestingly, Makoto doesn’t immediately try to deny this.

Regardless, Kaede decides she’s going to believe in Makoto, and so she’s going to lie for him. Finally, a mechanic introduced in this demo that, A, is an actually interesting new mechanic and not a pointless minigame, and, B, is represented properly!

(There’s no Debate Scrum in this demo, sadly. I’d say it’s because they couldn’t come up with a proper excuse for one, but honestly they could probably have scraped together a short one about whether or not Makoto did it, similar to the one about Shuichi in canon.)

Kokichi:  “I saw Makoto leave that room by himself! I swear!”

Wow, that totally doesn’t sound like a lie at all.

“Makoto”:  “I didn’t go into that room even once… so Kokichi must be mistaken.”

“Kokichi is lying.”

There’s eight different white noise lines for this last statement, most of which are quite easily identifiable. Even though this one is less obviously so, I bet it’s Maki. It sounds like her.

So Kaede lies that she was with Makoto the entire time until the body discovery.

Kokichi:  “Hmmm… Kaede, you’d rather choose a lie than the truth, just to protect Makoto?”

Kaede:  “Do you have any proof to show that I’m lying, Kokichi?”

Kokichi:  “Nope, none at all. I lied about seeing Makoto.”

Welp, that didn’t last long at all.

Kaito:  “Why you…? Don’t mess with us!”

Again I love that Kaito is the one to call him out on this! He hates that someone would be this insincere and selfishly mess with their lives just for his own petty entertainment.

Kokichi:  “I just wanted Makoto to talk, so I simply tricked him into speaking.”

Kaito:  “Why beat around the bush like that?”

This is so Kaito – he’s not using the word here, but this is his concept of manliness! Don’t beat around the bush, just come straight out and tell people what you want from them! If he wanted Makoto to testify, he should have just asked him instead of being insincere and indirect and manipulating him into it.

Kokichi:  “Cuz it’s still not clear where Makoto was before and after the indicent, right? Aw maaaan… I totally thought Makoto would talk if we started accusing him.”

And your lie didn’t help us clear anything up any more than just asking him directly would have done, so good fucking job, as usual. It almost seems like Kokichi’s actually acknowledging here that his lie didn’t work, but really he’s probably telling himself it totally would have worked if Kaede hadn’t jumped in with her own lie, because Kokichi can never be wrong about anything.

Some of the others point out that Kaede is also lying because she was on her own shortly after the body discovery and it’s weird that she and Makoto would split up after finding a body. Since Kaede’s lie is so provably false, it’s surprising to me that Kokichi backed down so soon on his own lie rather than just trying to disprove Kaede’s. Maybe his actual intent was that he thought Kaede was the culprit and expected her to throw Makoto under the bus to protect herself, and then when she didn’t, he realised she’s probably innocent and backed off? Maybe? But then again, Kokichi expects people to throw others under the bus to protect themselves even when they are innocent, like he was trying to get Kaito to do to Maki in trial 2, so, eh, I kinda doubt he’d see anyone not doing that as actual proof of anything. There’s too much selflessness and trust involved in that idea.

Gonta:  “Huh? Kaede… tell lie?”

Aww, Gonta.

Kaede:  (I need to be more convincing if I want them to believe me. I’ll remember that next time I need to lie… Of course, I hope that time never comes.)

Heh, that sure is a rather transparently this-is-just-a-demo thing for her to be thinking.

Kaito:  “We just got dragged around by Kokichi’s lies… We didn’t clear a single thing up!”

Exactly! God I love like 80% of the Kaito in this demo. All of the bits that aren’t horrendously out of character are so wonderfully him.

Everyone awkwardly laments that they still don’t have any more of a clue who did it other than maybe the three owners of the room and maybe in particular Kaede for no good reason. (Come on, guys, the rooms weren’t locked, literally anybody could have seen Hiro wandering into that room and taken their chance to kill someone.)

“Makoto”:  “It can’t end like this. No one wants an ending like that.”

Wow, that is so hilariously trial 6 of him. I am very sure the demo writers are doing this on purpose at this point.

Hajime decides he can prove it wasn’t Kaede, so he starts talking in very vague terms about “it” that was on the floor in the dorm, and something off about the crime scene. I’m not sure what the latter thing he’s supposed to be referring to is – Kaede’s comments in the investigation suggested there was supposedly something suspicious about the blood on the knife handle, so it might be that, but I couldn’t tell myself what was off about it. (There might not even be anything off about it, because this is about to go precisely nowhere. Then again, maybe it was the fact that it’s actually a prop knife because “Hiro” wasn’t really dead? Although “Hajime” probably wouldn’t want that to be known, would he.) The former thing is clearly the short brown hair found on the floor after Kirumi had cleaned, which suggests it is not Kaede but is instead either Makoto or Hajime.

But before Kaede can actually properly mention either of these things Hajime is vaguely alluding to, Monokuma interrupts and declares that the demo is over, and the trial abruptly ends.

So we never actually find out who supposedly killed Hiro – but I think the clues make it pretty clear that it was supposed to be Makoto.

On my first time seeing the demo, I was certain it couldn’t be Makoto because I already implicitly trusted that he’d never kill anyone. But that’s only if it was the real Makoto. Since this is just a cosplayer, and this is just a show being put on by Team Danganronpa for some very superficial demo entertainment, anything goes. I can totally see them pulling out the shocking twist that Makoto murdered someone, just for the hell of it.

All the clues point to Makoto – the hair that’s either his or Hajime’s, his extremely unexplained disappearance, plus a couple of moments in which he acted quite suspiciously, such as the way he didn’t immediately fervently plead his innocence when Kokichi claimed he had proof. And even if it had actually been a real murder, none of the people here who are real people and not cosplayers just acting would snap and give up that quickly on getting out of here without resorting to such drastic measures, just like Kaito said.

Then, right at the end of the demo, over a blank screen, there’s this.

“Makoto”:  “Hey, how was… our acting?”

Monokuma:  “Puhuhu, it wasn’t too shabby! I especially liked how convincingly you wasted everyone’s time!”

“Hajime”:  “I was a little worried about the end there… Hope it was exciting enough. Welp, since we got through it smoothly, that’s it for today!”

Monokuma:  “Smell ya later!”

“Makoto”:  “Good job, everyone!”

“Hajime”:  “Good job! See ya!”

…………

“Hiro”:  “Heeey! Wait for meee!”

This sure is a thing. I’d actually forgotten this bit was here while coming up with my theory that the Makoto, Hajime and Hiro we see in this demo are just cosplayers and nobody died – and this basically completely proves that this idea really was what the out-universe writers were going for here.

On a first viewing of this demo without having seen the main game, Makoto asking about their acting would potentially just seem like him referring to how he and Hajime hid the fact that they’d already been in another killing game – and, perhaps, the fact that they knew Hiro wasn’t really dead and this was all staged. But even then, it’s kind of odd that they’re asking this to Monokuma, like they’re in league with him, which doesn’t seem right for them at all.

But it makes every single bit of sense after finishing the main game if you assume that they really were cosplayers just putting on this demo as a teaser for the in-universe audience. When “Makoto” asks about their acting, he’s asking if they were convincing enough as Makoto and Hajime in the first place. They work for Team Danganronpa, so of course they’re in league with Monokuma and having a casual conversation with him. And everything about the way they’re talking comes across like actors or directors being all “welp, that’s a wrap, good job out there on set today, guys, we sure made an entertaining show!”

This bit didn’t need to be in the demo at all, but it’s really fun that they put it here anyway. It’s a very subtle, cheeky little hint to the real truth of everything that nobody’s going to be able to piece together without already knowing the truth and is just going to assume is meaningless demo shenanigans until then.

Also, while obviously nobody actually died, Team Danganronpa was still presenting a fiction in which Hiro totally did die, and within that fiction they apparently still totally had it in mind that Makoto killed him. They didn’t really have to hint towards anyone having done it at all, but they still had Makoto’s actor go out of his way to put in deliberate hints that it was him. I wonder how many of the audience picked up on the hints, and how shocked they were if they did. Gasp, their precious Makoto did a murder!! How could he fall to despair like this!?

[durrzerker]

Taskmaster: The Line. Chapter 8: Submission

Hey everyone, I know it’s been a couple weeks since Chapter 7. There’s a reason for that! Chapter 8, the finale of Taskmaster: The Line, is supposed to reflect a mega-sized comic, so it’s a mega-sized chapter! Chapters 1-7 were between 2000-2500 words. Chapter 8 is over 7000! I hope you enjoy the final entry in this story, and there will be more to come soon! 

--

The submarine was completely unmarked. No flag. No sigil at all revealing its loyalty. Ironically, these were all the details that Taskmaster needed to be sure that this was another one of Thunderbolt Ross's little projects. The old man had always been as secretive as he was brutal, and this reeked of his style. Without hesitation, Taskmaster drew his sword and shield and started towards the looming colossus of steel before him. "Ross! I know that's you, ya overgrown son of a walrus. Come on out of yer big metal cock and face me!"

Tony had to admit, he was a little surprised when the hatch swung open, its silence in doing so a testament to how well-maintained the submersible was. Rivulets of water continued pouring off the sides of the vessel, its hull extending so far that Taskmaster literally couldn't see past it. After a few seconds that felt like much longer, a large older man with an aggressive moustache and round face climbed the ladder out to stand on the hull. That was him -- Thaddeus 'Thunderbolt' Ross, perpetual thorn in the side of the Hulk in the distant past. These days, he seemed to have his fingers in just about every pie that you could imagine, from working alongside Captain America to forming his ridiculous Thunderbolts squads to do his dirty work for him. Briefly, Taskmaster wondered if the Wrecking Crew were supposed to be Thunderbolts; ultimately, he decided it didn't matter. They had hopefully drowned by now, every last one of them.

Tony wasn't in the kindest mood, which made Ross's first words all the more effective.

"Tony Masters," the older man called out coolly. "Amazing to see you walking -towards- a fight for once. I don't see the Scions with you, so I suppose this isn't the apology that you owe me."

"I don't owe you shit, Grandpa Genocide," Taskmaster snapped. "I dunno what all this is about, but those kids're safe and you ain't ever gonna see them again. The hell is wrong with you, Thaddeus? This is low, even for you; and that's sayin' something for a man who works with Zemo for -free-."

Undaunted, Ross took off his glasses and started to wipe them clean. "It's true, then; you really do have amnesia. I thought Fury was just full of shit, trying to get in my way. He still was, of course - but it seems he was at least right about this. Amazing. They try to call you the most dangerous mercenary alive, and you're just - what, a mindless enforcer for Merced? She always was the brains of you two. She whispering in your ear right now?"

Leering aggressively at Ross from behind his mask, Tony didn't respond for a moment. Apparently, he had to add yet another person to the list of 'everyone knows this shit but me' regarding The Hub...though if he was lucky, Ross didn't realize the woman was apparently his wife.

Man, he really was struggling to internalize that. It stuck in his craw like a piece of food that just wouldn't go down; could he call her? Promptly, Tony realized that was ridiculous to even be considering right now. He had bigger problems than getting his head screwed on straight, and almost all of them were right in front of him. "Gimme one good reason I shouldn't kill you right now, Thaddeus."

"Because if I'm even half-right about how your last few days have gone, you're too curious; otherwise, you would have thrown one of your ridiculous ripoff toys at me already. Come on, Masters. Just get in the sub and we can talk this out like the adult that I am and that you pretend to be."

Shrugging off the insults - when they came this fast they were pretty much just like a gentle rain, especially from Ross - Taskmaster made his way up onto the submarine. "Fine, but you try anything on me, and I'll run ya through. I know you can't Hulk out anymore, and the power of arthritis ain't gonna save ya if you pull yer usual crap."

"You really seem to resent the fact that I've lived to an old age, Masters." Ross sounded amused as he let the mercenary descend the ladder into the submarine first, following after. Despite his age, Tony marveled at how much of a tank of a man Thaddeus was; Tony was still a little taller than the not-so-good general, but Ross had to be nearly twice as wide as him, and he looked like he still had the strength to match it. Taskmaster made a mental note not to underestimate him if this did get violent - Red Hulk or no, this was a man who had tangled with the best and come out with his ridiculous facial hair intact.

"I think everyone on God's Green Earth resents you still being alive." Impossibly, the damned submarine seemed even bigger on the inside! The gargantuan seacraft's interior was more cavernous than he had expected; as soon as Taskmaster had set foot on the metal floor of the highest level, he could tell that at least this section of the ship was a single enormous hallway, wide enough to drive a tank through and sparsely populated with only a few men and women milling about reading reports, checking equipment, and saluting Ross as he approached. The old general led Taskmaster in a direction that he could only vaguely parse as towards the bridge of the vessel, if his itching familiarity was anything to go by.

"Hilarious. Remember this place yet?" Ross asked, sounding legitimately curious. Adjusting his cuff-links before leaning down to take off his glasses and get read by a retinal scanner, he straightened as a bulkhead opened, leading them towards a small fleet of what looked like sleeker, militarized golf carts. "Come on. I'm too old to be walkin' like this, and you're gettin' there yourself."

"...I don't," Taskmaster admitted honestly. "But I've been here, haven't I?" He didn't even need to ask the question, he could tell. When his specific memories failed him, the muscle memory didn't; he knew the layout of this place. He wasn't lost, and he could -feel- like he knew what was coming, which only made the mercenary more anxious as he stuffed himself into the cart that was far too small for both him and Ross.

"Been here? Son, you spent six months in this sub training the Scions. This here's the home of the United States' greatest super-soldier project since Steve Rogers himself; and if ya knew how many shots we've taken at that particular target over the years, you'd understand how impressive that is. Hell, even you were an example of the Krauts tryin' to get in on the action, until ya stole their big bad serum."

"I like to think I rescued it," Taskmaster corrected as Ross drove them through the submarine. The first few chambers were nondescript, full of nothing more than the extensive supplies and equipment that a vessel this size needed to remain underwater for months at a time. As they approached the bridge, however, things got a little more interesting. Tony caught sight of men and women in strange gas masks, with bulging muscles and aggressive body language, being herded by handlers into a series of cargo elevators; he saw tanks full of human beings being studied by scientists, readings being checked and one of them even awake and looking distinctly panicked. "Speaking of rescue, the -fuck- are you doing to those guys?"

"Saving their lives, believe it or not. If they weren't in those tanks, they'd be dying of oxygen poisoning due to a rare mutation they've developed."

"Developed during one of your little super-soldier experiments. Real noble of ya." Taskmaster sighed. This place was wearing him down more by the minute, aggravating his already explosive temper, and he wondered vaguely if Ross was hoping for that result. All the more reason to stay on his guard. "Look, quit baitin' me and spit it out. What'd I do here? And -why-?" Dread laced his words, even though he tried to avoid it. As much as Tony hated to admit it, he was a little scared to find his own history on this project, and with the Scions...

...But not enough to avoid finding the answer.

Pulling the cart up to the bulkhead outside the head of the submarine, a digital screen displaying the ocean around them and betraying that they were moving -quite- quickly through the water, Ross stepped out and gestured for Taskmaster to follow him. As the caped mercenary tread at his heel, the general flashed his eye at another retinal scanner, then his palm print at another. Whatever this was, it had even heavier security that the chambers they'd already passed through, and as the pair stepped into an elevator, Ross finally replied to him.

"Well, first and foremost, ya ought to know -- this is YET another one of SHIELD's old messes". The elevator didn't have even a single button; it clearly was designed to exclusively travel between two destinations, and if Taskmaster's experience with SHIELD told him anything, this was the -only- way in or out of the other location. Wherever Ross was taking him, it was the kind of government secret that even Nick Fury would have a hard time getting access to. "Well, SHIELD's and yours. You ever wonder about how much of a mess you leave behind when your memory resets, Masters? Or do ya really trust The Hub to clean up after you? 'Cause I gotta tell you, she does a fine job - but not a perfect one."

Tony didn't respond to the comment about his wife. He could tell he was being baited. Instead, keeping his eyes on the prize, he asked, "Get to the point before your heart gives out, gram-gram. What happened?"

"You happened, Masters. When you took that serum that gave you your photographic reflexes, it was when a laboratory full of the stuff was exploding. The kraut bastard who told you what it was capable of told you it was the last dose, right?"

"Fuck if I know," Taskmaster answered honestly.

"Exactly. So shut up and listen, boy. That facility was at the top of a mountain - and a great deal of that serum that was 'destroyed' in the blast actually leaked into the water supply. The Hub knew about this; something about a 'village of Hitlers', which I definitely do not want to know more about." He shook his head as the elevator opened into a dark hallway. In fact, it was pitch black until some overhead lights came to life one after another, exposing black walls and smooth floors that reminded him of what he'd heard of the Red Room. "That woulda been the end of it -- except it turns out about ten years ago, water from wells near the village was gathered en masse by the suppliers for some disaster aid groups. You figure out where this is going?"

For a moment he didn't, but as they proceeded down the hallway, Taskmaster's eyes widened down his mask. "...The Scions."

"Children from families in poverty or disaster-stricken areas across the last decade," Ross confirmed. "Each displaying unusual capacity for perfect mimickry of complex tasks -- photographic reflexes, previously only known to a select handful of individuals, including you, Masters. Your serum got out into the world, and now little Task-babies are sprouting up. Russia, Ireland, Brazil, even Wakanda after Namor wrecked the place. We found them and brought them here -- to the greatest training facility in the world."

They passed through a security checkpoint with a couple of silent, armed guards flanking them into a gargantuan arena that seemed too massive, too awe-inspiring, for even the gargantuan submarine that they were inside. Curved walls and ceiling reminded Tony of a stadium, right down to what almost resembled bleachers along the edges of either side. The 'field' was littered with what must have been a hundred different types of training equipment, from futuristic-looking weightlifting machines to obstacle courses that Taskmaster immediately recognized as his own design. He'd made them some years ago to test not his students, but himself and the limits of his photographic reflexes. To have them here meant only one thing:

"...So you brought in the best teacher to train them," Tony said with resignation. Had he really agreed to this? Had The Hub?

"Exactly," Ross nodded in agreement. "We might not get along on a personal level, Masters, but there's no denying your credentials. Given actual time and resources, you've sculpted some of the finest government agents we've ever had: John Walker, Spider-Woman, even Crossbones before he went rogue. Besides, there's no one else who's as much of an expert as you on photographic reflexes. Some of the other people in charge of this project wanted to bring on Echo or Finesse, but they were considered a little too...sympathetic."

"Yer flatterin' me," Taskmaster deadpanned. "So glad I'm the one you think of when it comes to tutoring kidnapped children." They descended a long ramp towards the training machines; was Taskmaster imagining something, or did he see a dried bloodstain in the combat ring? Before he could focus on it, the earpiece hidden in his mask came to life, a crackling signal of a few rapid, stuttering sounds. It was The Hub, reporting through an old Cherokee code that they used to send messages back and forth when the risk of being overheard was high. Translation?

'The kids are safe. Black Ant's coming to back you up.'

It was a good thing, too. TESS wasn't going to be the reinforcements he needed, she didn't fare too well at getting underwater. Eric, though...well, sometimes he wondered if he really did need to give the guy more credit. They'd have to talk about this once he was done here, if he survived his insane plan that was forming now.

"I'm not flattering you," Ross growled out, stopping in front of the combat ring. "I'm guessing that you've already figured out this didn't exactly end well. You know how long you were here, Masters? Three months. And it turns out that for all three of those months, as you were training those kids, you were preparing to abscond with government property. Remember that part, Masters? When ya tried to steal from us?"

Tony saw Ross rounding on him, sensed the agents approaching him from behind with batons in hand. It should have been a fight he could manage, even an -easy- one...but he couldn't move.

Suddenly his memory came rushing back, so powerful and overwhelming it nearly brought him to his knees. He couldn't even lift a hand to defend himself as he heard the attack coming, felt the rush of wind of the baton smashing into the base of his skull from behind. Stumbling forward before collapsing right onto his face, Tony looked up and saw Ross one last time before the darkness took him.

--

"Tasky."

When consciousness returned, it brought explosive pain with it, a shooting star that begun at the base of Tony's neck and erupted in every direction from there. He groaned and tried to bring his hands to his suffering temples, only to find that he was tied down; bound by steel cables to a stretcher, he could barely wiggle his arms and legs. That got his attention.

The mercenary opened his eyes, which felt bleary and unfocused. He was definitely still aboard the submarine, in what he recognized now as the interrogation room. Dim lighting, an assortment of torture devices nearby; this wasn't good.

"Tasky!" Came a tiny voice, directly in his left ear. He winced at the severity. It could only be Eric.

"Black Ant...?" He murmured. Had he been drugged? He felt sluggish, even moreso than he should from having gotten whacked across the dome. "How'd you find me so quickly?"

"I didn't," Eric replied; he was barely the size of an ant, really living up to his name, sitting inside Taskmaster's ear. "You've been here for four days. I had to wait for the submarine to surface at a hidden base near the Everglades before I could sneak on board. They really messed you up, man. You gonna be good to go?"

Trying to figure out what Eric meant, Tony looked down. His costume was gone; he was wearing...well, nothing, and a number of fresh wounds marked his skin every few inches. The effects of the drugs had exacerbated his amnesia, but now he remembered; they'd spent hour after hour torturing him, driving implements into his flesh and drowning him to get the answer to one simple question:

"Where are the kids?"

He felt a surge of pride, spiteful and strong, as he realized he hadn't told them a damn thing. "I'm fine. Can you get me out of here?"

"Yeah," Eric replied, "But it'll take me a few minutes. They really didn't take any chances; I'm gonna have to use my fusion cutter. Keep still, alright? I already looped the camera feed, and they usually only come in here once an hour. We've got plenty of time." He felt the tiny merc jump out of his ear and start to grow, pulling a device that looked much like a miniature welding torch out of his belt. As he started to cut his way through the cables with the intense blue laser that it emitted, Taskmaster spoke up.

"Thanks for coming for me, little buddy."

"Of course. Thanks for not breaking; would've been a real hassle if we had to deal with the Yellow Submarine here. Besides, it's my job."

Tony was grateful, but with his memory returned...he had to ask. "...And because you feel guilty, huh?"

Eric almost paused the cutting with the torch, he was so surprised. "What do you mean?" Taskmaster could sense some brief hesitation as he finished the job, cutting enough of the cable so that Tony could take the fusion cutter and free his own legs.

"You knew this whole time what happened here," Tony responded calmly. He didn't sound angry; he didn't FEEL angry. "...You were here, too. They brought you in for another job, figured since we were partners, it'd be fine." Now Eric -did- stop cutting. Taskmaster could tell the younger mercenary was stunned, that now, of all times, he didn't expect this to come up. "You came in and saw me training the Scions...found out from The Hub I was planning to help them escape. Together, we were gonna do it. We were gonna do something good for once in our lives, Eric."

"Tony..." Black Ant's mask came up, the automatic visor lifting to reveal his face. He looked terrified, legitimately so, even with his messy red hair covering half his face. Tony didn't stop, rising from his bindings. Something about his presence, despite the blood matting his hair and the fact he was naked, must have been striking; Eric backed away.

"...We were almost out, weren't we? We'd almost saved them when Ross's heavy hitter came. It was a tough fight. So tough, I had to use my photographic reflexes to stop her...and it fried my brain, as it tends to do. I forgot what we were doing. Forgot we were trying to -save- those kids." He advanced a step; Eric retreated one. Tony didn't sound angry.

But he felt pretty angry.

"...We had to get out of there," Eric accused. "You were suddenly operating on auto-pilot, Tony. You think I WANTED to leave the kids behind? But we were ALL gonna die, them included, if we didn't bail! You don't know what it's like!" Eric's fear turned into anger of its own now.

Eric was right; Tony didn't know. "...You could have told me later. We could have come back for them."

"And what, heard you call me full of shit? Your BRAIN. IS. BROKEN!" Eric roared. "HOW ABOUT YOU TAKE IT UP WITH THE HUB! IT'S HER FUCKING JOB TO KEEP YOU IN CHECK, NOT MINE! AND YET HERE I AM!"

"...Yeah. It should have been The Hub," Tony agreed, looking around the interrogation room. Damn; they hadn't been stupid enough to keep his equipment nearby. "...Or ya mean, my wife?"

Eric didn't respond to that, averting his eyes. A tense silence hung in the air for awhile between them before Tony finally spoke.

"We got pretty loud, they're gonna check this out. We...can talk about this later. You came for me, O'Grady. We're still a team. I'll do my best, but without any weapons, this ain't gonna be easy."

Happy to change the subject, Black Ant tossed something so small Tony's way that he barely caught it even with his uncanny reflexes. "Here. It's not much...but I was able to sneak this in." As he triggered the Pym Particles, Taskmaster broke into a grin. He hadn't seen -this- thing in awhile...

It was his energy generator, old SHIELD tech that could take any shape at the will of its wielder; he preferred to have a larger arsenal on hand, so he'd eventually abandoned it, but right now? It was exactly what he needed. Strapping it to his forearm, the mercenary straightened as he heard footsteps rushing towards the interrogation room. "Thanks, little buddy. Let's do this."

Relieved, Eric didn't hesitate to crack a joke. "Can that thing take the shape of pants, by chance? I don't really feel like staring at your glazed hams for this whole fight."

"Sorry, I'm going balls out for this one. Literally." With that, Taskmaster broke into a sprint just as the bulkhead door opened; the first thing the agent who entered saw was a very naked, very muscular brown-haired man leaping into the air, just before the jumping snap kick borrowed from Batroc the Leaper broke his neck. As he went down hard, another of the guards went for the alarm, but Black Ant was already leap-frogging over Tony's shoulder, shrinking and then growing in rapid sequence to slip right through the crowd and tackle him.

"Help!" The man cried out. "The prisoner's escap--" He was cut off as Eric's fusion torch was shoved into his mouth, evaporating his tongue and boiling his brain in seconds. "Ew," Black Ant commented, even as he leapt backwards and drove his elbow into another sentry who was approaching him from behind.

Taskmaster had the rest under control. He had a feeling these guys were trained to fight him; that was a mistake on their part. Instead of his first instinct to turn his energy generator on into the shape of Cap's shield or Black Knight's broadsword, he dug a little deeper. He could tell it had been a good idea when a heavily armored soldier reeled back in surprise as the form of Shang-Chi's nunchaku came to life, whirling like a tornado to deflect an oncoming strike from a stun baton before taking most of his teeth out with a vicious swat across the face.

The pair were a blur of motion, perfectly coordinated until the last of the guards had fallen. They'd come a long way from accidentally hitting each other like the first time they'd faced Spider-Man together, that was for sure.

"That's better..." Taskmaster breathed, dismissing the energy nunchaku. "I remember the layout of this place; we're dead in the center of the sub. Even if we fought our way out, thing's on the move right now, isn't it?"

Black Ant nodded. "Yep. We're back at sea; I barely had time to get on board before Ross was moving again. Even being able to track you, it was hard to infiltrate this thing...I can see why he likes it."

"Then escape ain't an option. We gotta commandeer the sub."

"How?" Black Ant asked. "There's hundreds of soldiers here, not to mention Ross himself and whoever he's hired as his elite security. We won't be able to hold the bridge that long."

Taskmaster considered this. "Good point. I'll head for the bridge. You go to the Engine Room. If we can't conquer the submarine, we'll hold it hostage. You can threaten to blow the engines, sink the whole thing, unless they let me take us to the surface. Even if they try to rush the engine room, you can shrink down and start causing trouble to get them to back off."

Eric thought about it, then nodded. "...Risky, but our best option. You'll be taking most of the heat, though; Ross is gonna be on the bridge, and he'll call reinforcements to save his wrinkly butt. You sure you'll be okay? You look pretty roughed up." The concern was touching; it reminded Tony he needed to give Eric the benefit of the doubt. He wasn't sure he could let what had happened slide entirely...but he didn't need to punish the mercenary for it.

"...I'm good. Thanks, Eric. We'll get out of this together, alright? See ya on the other side." He extended a closed hand.

Smiling, Black Ant bumped his fist with his own. "Yeah. We got this."

With that, they split up, unsure if they'd ever see each other again.

---

By the time Taskmaster ran into the next pack of guards, he wasn't even thinking anymore about the fact he was completely naked. At first he thought it'd be funny, surprising these assholes with some full frontal nudity before kicking their asses, but he was just angry. Angry, cold, and ready to show them exactly how big of a mistake they had made.

Two of the sentries had guns, high-tech air rifles designed to be lethal without risking the integrity of the submarine. He took them down first, generating shuriken and flinging them with enough force to go right through the men's hands and send them to the ground howling in pain.

A Bullseye special. A second later, he was bringing forth a little trick from Zaran the Weapons Master, cleaving through his assailants with the wickedly curved blade of a chinese hooksword. Hawkeye, Iron Fist, Daredevil; these men were clearly expecting those heroes, had trained and prepared accordingly. He could read it in their movements.

As the last one fell, gurgling as a hole poked in their throat surged with blood, Tony shook his head. "Fuckin' amateurs. You think I've spent my whole life doin' this and I only got five people's moves? I was bein' -nice- before." He was close to the bridge now. A little longer, and he'd knock Ross out, tie his moustache to a radiator or something, and be done with this.

"Nothing nice about what I'm looking at, Taskmaster." Tony nearly froze. He knew that voice. It was the only one Thaddeus could have hired to reasonably stop him -- the only mercenary alive he considered to be on his level...and the one he'd been forced to throw everything at just to survive last time.

Elektra Natchios, clad head to toe in black leather armor save for the red mask around the lower half of her face, stood between him and the entrance to the bridge.

"...You again," he growled. She didn't lose her composure at his obvious venom, though she did seem visibly amused.

"You remember, then. I suppose that means you know this won't end well for you. Give up, Taskmaster. You're out of your depth here; you don't even have that ridiculous suit of yours."

"...I thought you had a soft spot for kids, Elektra. This doesn't seem like your kind of job." Tony gripped the energy generator on his wrist, considering what to summon. What could he really use to surprise the world's greatest assassin?

"Don't pretend you know me," she countered. Unsurprisingly, her signature sai were her weapon of choice; she rarely -needed- much else, drawing them from her hips and twirling them in place. "Who are you to talk? You ruined those kid's lives already, blowing up that facility and letting them develop your powers. I'm trying to help them; -Ross- is trying to help them. Do you realize they're already starting to get your memory problems? I don't like Ross, but he's the only one working on a cure. Psychics, scientists, the whole nine yards; he's saving them."

"He's turning them into weapons," Taskmaster growled. "You're fucking deluded if you think he's doing anything because he has their best interests in mind."

"Not as deluded as a naked supervillain who thinks he's the hero here. No more words." Elektra rushed at him, her body little more than a black-and-crimson blur. Even having faced her multiple times, Taskmaster was always alarmed by her speed; it was like trying to battle a waterfall, all its weight bearing down on you...and just as useless to try and hit.

She didn't stop, didn't run into him; she dashed right past him, swinging her sai for his shoulder. Turning and summoning his Captain America shield on reflex, he realized immediately that was her whole plan, to push him into falling back into his faithful moves, his reliable ones. Too late; she was already pirouetting like a dancer, bringing her other dagger up and driving it into his back. It would have run through his kidney and ended the fight right there if he hadn't caught on, but he managed to turn and instead have it driven straight into the muscle group behind his ribs instead.

No time for pain. He swiped with the shield, missed as she deftly ducked, but he was back in control. On the backswing, the shield became a gauntlet, enveloping his fist. Elektra's eyes widened in surprise as she was clocked across the face by a classic move from The Destroyer; she recovered quickly, rolling with the momentum and whirling her leg up in a kick that stopped him from being able to pursue. Now on guard, she closed in once more, this time protecting herself with one sai while thrusting with the other.

A katana. A boomerang. A large, bouncing ball that rapidly whacked Elektra in the forehead and then bounced back into his hand to intercept an attempted cut. Taskmaster pushed himself to his limits, conjuring the most esoteric and obscure techniques he'd ever picked up, desperate to keep Elektra from overwhelming him. As her nose ran red with blood, the same red that trickled down his wounded back, the mercenaries circled each other.

"I always respected you for being able to keep up," Elektra admitted. "Put anything in your hand and it becomes a deadly weapon."

"Bit late for flattery," Taskmaster replied, preparing to  summon the next energy weapon...but he didn't get a chance. Elektra dove in, went low with a stab for his thigh. When he stepped back to avoid it, she came up, smashing her skull into his chin and nearly making him bite his own tongue off, sending him staggering. Reflexively, he moved to summon his shield again - damn it - and she punished him for it. Instead of trying to stab his less vulnerable head, she shoved her sai right through the energy generator itself.

It sputtered, sparked...and died. Suddenly, Taskmaster was weaponless.

"It wasn't flattery. I was explaining your weakness. You're a mimic, Masters...a vague shadow, always one step behind those of us who push ourselves to be the best." She wasn't haughty, wasn't arrogant; just stating facts. Every word stung as true as her dagger as she started towards him. "You gave up everything to be the greatest fighter alive...and you failed at even that."

She lunged. It was all Tony could do to keep himself away from the vicious points of her weapons; he took a kick, a backhand, a pommel smack across the temple in his desperate attempt to block her myriad stabs and cuts. She was a whirlwind of speed and aggression, not reckless but wholly confident that he couldn't keep up with her without a weapon, couldn't spare himself getting run through and land a blow against her at the same time.

Realizing she was right, Tony took a deep breath...and charged head-long at her. He'd told himself there was no way he could truly copy someone like Wolverine; he'd tear his body apart.

But right now, that was a worthy price. As Elektra tried to guard herself with a vicious cross-up slash, Tony suddenly reversed his momentum, trying not to scream in pain when one of his ankles cracked from the sheer speed with which he re-directed his momentum. The assassin couldn't keep up as he whirled in a capoeria kick that smashed her across the jaw, sending her spinning.

She was correct. He couldn't copy his way out of this one. There was one thing, though, that Tony had that even she couldn't match. "You know why I'm the only merc who hasn't fucking -died- and come back by now?" He growled through bloody teeth, rushing at Elektra again. She caught him, intercepted his oncoming punch with her sai. Pain shot through Tony's hand like lightning as the blade punched between his knuckle like a sick inversion of Wolverine's claw, thrusting all the way down until it emerged from his wrist.

But he didn't stop. Taking advantage of his greater weight and raw, adrenaline-fueled strength, he used the fact her blade was stuck in his hand to -yank- her towards him, smashing his forehead into her nose. Elektra reeled, bringing her other sai up into his ribcage; he felt the sick, liquid heat of the wound opened in his liver, then swatted his right hand up with staggering force to box her in the ear, causing her to issue forth a scream of pain that she couldn't even hear as her eardrum exploded.

"Because for all the shit you talk about being better...none of you know how to -survive-. None of you know what it means to really be outgunned, to be against a better opponent...and to take them the fuck down."

Again.

Again.

He beat her. He savaged her. She kept ripping away, giving up on her sai embedded in his flesh and clawing at him with her nails, biting him like a wounded and angry animal, tearing flesh off a chunk at a time.

But he drove his fingers into one of her eyes, slammed his knee into her stomach, and ripped out one of her sai, finally shoving it into her gut. Wavering a moment, Elektra looked down at her wound...and finally collapsed.

It was all Taskmaster could do to not mimic that, too.

"You'll live," he muttered, wiping a frothy mix of his saliva and both of their blood from his face. "As for me...remains to be seen." Taking both of her sai, bleeding from a dozen wounds and running purely on adrenaline, Taskmaster advanced towards the bridge. One brave soldier, a survivor of the previous fight, took aim with an airsoft gun -- he never even saw the dagger that was thrown directly between his eyes, killing him on the spot.

The bulkhead of the bridge hissed as it opened. Thunderbolt Ross was on a mic, shouting himself hoarse. "NATCHIOS! COME IN! IS TASKMASTER--" Hearing the door, he turned around and cursed. "Fucking christ, Masters...you look dead already. ...Hey!" He didn't expect the sheer speed with which Tony closed the gap, driving the sai into his shoulder and literally pinning him to the wall. As he started to struggle, Tony twisted the weapon, narrowing his good eye; the other one was swelling shut, more purple than brown by now.

"We're surfacing. The Hub's going to pick me up. You're never gonna see those kids again. You wanted to know where they were? They're..." He paused, remembering Laura Kinney's last nod to him as she boarded the quinjet.

"They're with an -actual- hero. They're safe, and they're out of your reach."

"Who do you think you are, Masters?" Ross spat. "You'll bleed out before we even breach. You got no idea who the fuck you're messing with, Uncle Sam's--"

"--Uncle Sam isn't gonna do shit. I remember everything now, Thaddeus. This project? It's your little pet. Off the books. No accountability...but no backup. You'll be disowned; thrown out of the military if you're lucky, into The Raft if you're not. And ya know what? I came up here fully intending to bury this fucking dagger in your skull...but I've seen what it looks like to actually give a shit about human life, even worthless ones like yours. So I'm gonna let them."

He jabbed his thumb into a pressure point he'd picked up from Shang-Chi years ago, and Ross fell silent. Stumbling to the controls, he grabbed hold of the mic, even as his photographic reflexes took over and automatically went about commanding the enormous vessel to breach. It was optimized for Ross himself to pilot, all the sub-systems that would normally require a staff of dozens to manage redirected through this very console. A strength...and a weakness.

"Black Ant...this is Taskmaster. I got the bridge. You good?"

He heard gunfire, and for the first time, legitimately felt a pang of fear. Then the speakers crackled. "I'm good. No one else here. You sound like shit."

"Yeah, well...shove...shove it up yer ass, O'Grady."

Taskmaster collapsed against the control panel, just as the submarine began to gain altitude.

                                                                                       EPILOGUE

Tony woke in a stark white room, hooked up to so many machines that he couldn't tell where his arms ended and the needles and cables began. Nauseous with pain and barely able to lift his head, he was greeted with not only the faces of Black Ant and Wolverine, but even the hooded mask of Spymaster and Mara, the young leader of the Scions.

"No one was sure you'd make it," Laura said. "But I said you were pretty damn tough...for a supervillain." Her smirk was wry; maybe it was too optimistic to say it was fond...but it showed relief that he was awake. More than he'd expected.

"...Where am I?" He groaned.

"Albino's hospital," Spymaster explained. He almost collapsed again with relief. There was no one he'd trust more to patch him up after a fight like that. "Don't worry, you haven't been out for another four days...only one this time." Tony winced at the lost time, but it was better than being dead.

"...Ross? The sub?"

"I arrested Ross myself," Laura confirmed. "He's in the Raft awaiting trial. The Scions have agreed to testify, and with that, it's pretty much certain he'll never see the light of day again."

"Hell yeah," Tony replied, then glanced over at Eric. "You make it out alright?"

"Better than you," O'Grady affirmed, then lifted the t-shirt he was wearing to expose an enormous hole in his torso. Tony could see cables and machinery all around the wound. "Except for this. But sometimes being an LMD is kind of awesome, huh? I'm on my way to the repair shop now, but wanted to check in with you first."

"Thanks, buddy."

"...Well, we might not see each other for awhile, after all." Eric averted his eyes, then narrowed them at Laura.

"What do ya mean?" Tony looked curious, then felt a surge of panic as he realized that he wasn't too weak to lift his arm: it was cuffed to the bed.

Laura, her eyes apologetic but her voice firm, didn't make him wait. "...Ross isn't the only one I arrested," she began. "Elektra is also in jail...and you will be too, as soon as you're able to walk."

"Are you fucking--" Taskmaster started, but when Spymaster held up a hand, he stopped.

"Let her talk," Spymaster pleaded. Furious but silent, he nodded for Laura to continue.

"...You have to be tried for what you did, Taskmaster. For a lot of it. But this isn't supposed to be revenge. I told you the Scions are going to testify against Ross..."

Mara picked up where she left off, "...But we're going to testify for you, too. Spymaster explained everything on the Quinjet. About your memory issues. About how you really did want to help us...but you didn't know we existed after you fought Elektra."

Laura nodded at that, then added, after the first hesitation she'd shown this whole time, "...And I'll be testifying, too. I'll tell them about how much of a bastard you are...but also how much I think you can change, if you really try. If someone gives you a chance. You're not well, Tony." It was the first time she'd used his name, -really- used it. "You don't need to be in prison...you need help. And I think if you got it, you could really do a lot of good. But this can't keep happening. You can't keep forgetting who you are, then going right back to mercenary work. I'm hunting The Hub now. She has to account for how she's been controlling you...and if she really is your wife, if she's trying to help you do good as well...then she needs to do better. She needs to bring in professionals. You're not a good man, Taskmaster...but maybe you could be, someday. With help."

Tony tried to look mad, but it didn't work with the tears starting to well in his eyes. "...Why you? Of all people?"

Digging into her pocket, Laura tossed something familiar onto his chest. It was barely as big as his pinky. "After you shot my sisters and I took you down, I wondered about why you seemed so reluctant to fight me. I found the 'bullet' you hit Gabby with. Airsoft pellet...wouldn't have done more than knock her out even if she hadn't been wearing armor. I realized that on some level, even you know you can't keep going on like this...and you don't want to be the villain you let yourself be made out as."

Taskmaster didn't say anything. He couldn't think of anything -to- say. Staring at the deformed pellet, he just laid his head back on his pillow. Smiling faintly, Wolverine gently patted the side of his bed.

"Alright. He needs to rest," came another voice. It was Albino, a sharp-featured and white-haired woman dressed in a pristine lab coat and with a complete lack of fear as she entered the room. "If you want him able to attend this ridiculous trial of yours, I suggest you let him sleep. Out."

Tony watched them go, even weakly lifting a shackled hand to wave at Mara. Black Ant lingered, then leaned down to whisper, "And if they -do- try to put you away, I'll spring ya, buddy. We'll go on the lam together. It's win-win!" With that, he skipped out with the rest.

For the first time in ages, Tony was smiling - sincerely and wholly - as he fell back asleep under Albino's loyal care.

--

Black Ant had gone off for repairs, and Mara had already been escorted away; upon being informed of Akeja's location, Black Panther had quickly contacted Wolverine and agreed to bring all of the Scions to an Academy in Wakanda, where their burgeoning memory issues could be addressed and they could get the care and education they needed after the year they'd missed since their kidnapping. Attempts would be made to find their families, but they would be well cared for regardless.

Now it was just Laura and Spymaster, who stopped the heroine as she was about to leave. "Kinney."

"What?" Laura turned back to face the hooded woman, narrowing her eyes. "Just because I'm helping Taskmaster doesn't mean we're friends. We're finished here."

"...No we're not," Spymaster replied. "In fact, I suspect you're going to want to have a long talk with me." She pulled down her hood, then lifted her mask. Laura had never seen her before; it wasn't someone she recognized, a latina woman with a shock of black hair, stunningly intelligent brown eyes, and the most long-suffering, yet confident quirk of the lips she'd ever laid eyes on.

"...My name's Mercedes Merced. I'm Taskmaster's wife -- and The Hub."

[aliencowboyqueen]

FIC: The Rules to Accidental Dating (1)

Pairing: Alex/Kyle

Summary: In which Kyle and Alex accidentally pretend-date their way to love.

Rating: Teen+

This one is for @alexmanes who fills my Dash with the good Kylex content.

CHAPTER 1

One morning, Kyle finds Alex standing at his door in his leather jacket with a frown on his face. Without a preamble, Alex says: "You don't look too hot today, Valenti. You should call sick to work."

"Thanks?" Kyle has been struggling with sleeping, and eating, and general self-care for the past few days. Ever since his encounter with Jesse Manes, which landed the older man in hospital. But he has been trying to follow the rules of general personal hygiene at least and he isn’t aware things are getting that bad.

Although it doesn't help that every day at work, he comes the near the man's room sooner or later. He watches the nurses flock to it. After all, Jesse Manes is the town's hero. Little do they know what a monster he is.

"No, I mean my brothers are visiting him today." Alex says 'him' with so much venom Kyle can practically taste how bitter it is in Alex's mouth. "All of them. You don't want to be there at the same time."

Kyle gulps. Alex is right. He has no interest in spending any time in the vicinity of the other Manes men. He knows all of them casually and they are all too much more their father's sons than Alex is.

And they can probably figure out who put their father in the hospital. Cold sets in Kyle's stomach. He is suddenly very grateful he has no surgeries scheduled for the day and that Alex actually caught him at home.

"Do you want to come in?" he asks. "We can lock the door and pretend your brothers don't want to see our corpses."

"I was going to stay at the cabin."

Kyle shakes his head. "It's too remote."

He watches Alex takes a breath.

"You thought about it, haven't you?" he prompts. "They'll want to rough you up at the very least. And Flint…"

"I can handle them," Alex interrupts.

"All of them?" Kyle knows Alex is good, but he is not that good. No one is. Real life is not an action movie, even if it has aliens in it. Alex on his own would perhaps be able to handle three random men off the street, but not three trained military men. Especially not ones with the advantage of knowing him well. "No. Instead of reenacting Home Alone with your family reunion, how about you stay here? Not even your brothers are dumb enough to invade the home of the local sheriff's son."

Alex hesitates. The desire to turn down the offer despite knowing it's sound logic is apparent in his eyes. "I can't keep running from them."

"Not your whole life," Kyle agrees. "But you can for today." He is already moving away from the doorway to let Alex through.

While he makes the phone call to work, putting on the most convincing fake cough, he watches Alex sit down. Alex doesn't make himself comfortable on the sofa. His shoulders are tense. He still has the jacket on. Though Kyle has to admit the jacket looks great on Alex, better than the usual plain shirts he's seen him wear recently, it's not exactly suitable for a day indoors.

"Take the jacket off," he says as soon as he ends the call. "What do you say, was I convincing? I didn't have to use the fake cough since college. And that'd been to fool a date, not medical staff."

Alex quirks his eyebrows up as he shrugs off the jacket. He moves efficiently and his gaze shifts away from Kyle during the action. "That awful a date?" he asks with a note of disbelief.

"Every once in a while someone in my family decides I'm going to die a bachelor and I end up on a series of blind dates with really nice people who want to be anywhere but on a date with me."

Alex's jaw clenches.

And Kyle remembers. Alex is not as lucky as Kyle is. His family doesn't well-meaningly bother him about his love life. The worst Kyle's relatives have ever done in regards to his romantic choices were a few mean words from his mother towards Liz's family. That and his father letting him date his sister's sister, but that's a thing Kyle has yet to process.

Meanwhile, Alex's father was beating Alex up for his orientation before Alex even knew what was happening with his hormones.

"I'm sorry," Kyle says, suddenly embarrassed. "I know it must sound…"

"Don't worry about it. Can I… Do you have a book I can borrow? I'd hate to get underfoot while you do whatever it is you do on a day off."

Normally, Kyle would spend much of a free day catching up on sleep. But with Alex here, that sounds like a silly idea. "You can't put me on a house arrest and then not entertain me!"

"I didn't put you on a house arrest."

"You came here and told me to stay put. Same thing."

A shadow of smile briefly visits Alex's face. "And you are keeping hostage. By that logic."

"Yes. Now entertain me."

They settle on Netflix and beer. They bicker over whether Kyle needs to watch Star Trek before a marathon of The Good Place wins them over instead. Kyle is only slightly embarrassed that Alex can see his Netflix List and he doesn't even impulsively lie about an ex-girlfriend who really loved romantic comedies.

Alex is stiff for the first few episodes. He sits on one end of the sofa, jacket folded on his lap, his back straight as if he'd frozen and would break if he tried to relax. He's like a wild animal in someone else's territory. Guarded. Waiting for an attack. Kyle thought they were doing better, but being in Kyle's space has reset Alex's buttons. He seems even more distant than when they first started cooperating on taking down government conspiracies.

It pains Kyle to see that this is the effect he has on the other man.

They used to be such good friends. And he thinks they are on their way there again but it might take longer than he thought.

And it's all his damn fault.

There are apologies on the tip of his tongue but he knows Alex wants to hear none of them. He wishes there was something for him to say to make it all better instantly, but no such magic words exit.

He doesn't realize he is staring at Alex and the tense line of his shoulders until Alex says: "You're going to burn a hole in the side of my head."

Kyle jumps up to his feet. "Um. I was just thinking… Do you want me to hang up your jacket?"

Alex gives him an unimpressed look. "It's weird for you to have me here," he observes even as he hands Kyle the garment.

"It's weird for me that you feel weird being here." Kyle sighs. "We… I remember what we were likes as kids." He has a vivid memory of Alex kneeling across from him on the floor of their tree house, the canopy of the tree a background to Alex's brilliant smile. "We were meant to be, I don't know, the sort of friends who… have keys to each other's places and invite themselves to the food in the fridge and have each other on speed dial for 3AM emergencies."

Alex considers him with his eyebrows lifted. "But then I just had to go and be gay, huh?"

"No, then I just had to go and be a jerk."

Alex startles, but afterwards he looks visibly more relaxed.

Maybe one day, Kyle will actually get it across that Alex's homosexuality is really not an issue for him, or an obstacle he has to overcome to be able to be friends with him. That he wants Alex in his life even when they're not ruining some extremist's plans.

It turns into an oddly pleasant day, for the fact that they are in hiding. For several episodes, Kyle barely remembers that aliens exist, that his half sister is back from death, that he put a man in coma, or that Alex's brother likely want to break a few bones in his body before shooting a hole in his head. For a few hours, he is just a guy hanging out with a friend. Sharing beer and later pizza delivered straight to the door.

Then he returns from a bathroom trip and finds Alex awkwardly standing in the middle of the room.

"I should get going."

"I was going to find you a blanket."

"I've overstayed my welcome as it is."

"The sofa folds out." And Kyle really, really doesn't want Alex to drive into the night. He doesn't want to go looking for him later only to discover his brothers found him first.

Alex's brows knit together. Then he puts his jacket on. "If I'm staying, I need to get my crutches from the car."

And with that, it's settled.

ooo ooo ooo

Kyle is eating cold pizza while Alex showers when the doorbell rings.

He looks through the peep hole cautiously before opening the door. The young woman behind it is a nurse from his hospital, whom he knows well enough to have shared a lunch a couple of times. He doesn't know her well enough for unannounced house calls. She is holding a thermo lunch bag.

"I heard you were sick. So I thought you might want…" she starts with the flustered boldness of someone who's finally found the object of their affection. But then she hesitates. "…soup."

Her expression transforms from sincere eagerness to suspicion. It takes barely a moment for Kyle to understand why.

The shower. His conveniently accessible shower, which Alex is currently occupying. It's loud.

Kyle remembers to cough. "That's very kind of you," he says, trying to put in as much sickness into his voice as he can manage. "I'll bring this back to you?" he adds and takes the bag away from her.

Just as he is about to say goodbye to her, he hears the clatter of shampoo bottles and Alex's cursing.

The nurse blushes, her eyes wide.

"Thank you for the soup," Kyle says before swiftly closing the door.

↳ Next Chapter

[disrepairhouse]

Chapter 41 - Timelines

Exhausted, terrified, and shaken from repeating the conversation with her father over and over in her head, Itara jumped one final time through the shadows towards the gradually appearing neighborhood on the horizon. She had hoped to reach the house, despite the distance, but only got so far as the destroyed train station.  But when she attempted to walk the rest of the way, the uneven, broken roads proved more tiring to climb over than expected and she dropped back against the slab she’d been climbing over to rest.  Just for a moment.  She was so close; the house was right there at the end of the road. She just had to go a few feet more.

Her eyes closed only a moment as the world suddenly rushed around her.  She figured it was from exhaustion and kept her eyes closed, afraid that opening them would disorient her, and waited for the spinning to stop.  It did, almost as quickly as it came, but it wasn’t until she heard voices that she opened her eyes again.

“Turns out she wasn’t far, after all.  I barely made it out of the neighborhood before I found her cowering behind a broken slab of road.”  That was… Metal’s voice?

It was only then she realized she was no longer on the hard ground and that she was being passed from one pair of cold, hard arms to another pair of slightly fluffier arms.  She opened her eyes to see RK and Metal, though Metal moved out of her sight as RK walked over to do something on the computer.  But she made it.  She was back home.  She’d never been happier to see RK or their lab in her life.  She didn’t know how long it had been for them, but for her, it had been months.

Her brief moment of elation was immediately shattered though, as RK turned to her and, after a quick study of her current state, absolutely unloaded on her.  She’d never seen him so mad and panicked.  It caught her so off-guard that all she could do was stare up in shock, her ears flattened against the furious yelling.

“Itara, where have you been?!  Do you have any idea how worried we’ve been?!  With everything going on?!  Look at you, you barely look alive!  What have you been doing?!  Why didn’t you just come home right away?!  How was I supposed to keep track of you with you traveling through time all willy-nilly again?!”

Itara wasn’t the only one caught off-guard as both Metal and Zero jerked from the sudden outburst but while Zero was blindsided by the reaction, Metal recovered much quicker and burst into a fit of laughter. Momma Bear Mode was activated and in full swing, apparently.  He almost felt sorry for the tiny child as RK continued berating her reckless behavior and how easily she could have died.  Zero looked to Metal for answers, but he only shook his head and threw his hands up in defense, backing away.  It was safer to remain silent and out of reach at the moment.  Though admittedly, he was also glad the tiny child was finally home.  Besides, he knew RK would properly take care of her once he calmed down again, but it was also hilarious to watch her get the full force of his apparent panic.  He never expected RK being overly attached to a time traveler would be funny.

While RK continued his rant, apparently his outburst was heard all the way upstairs as both Lynda and Mira came down to see what was going on.  Itara couldn’t see them from her position and RK was too distracted to notice, but Metal spotted them right away and waved a hand to warn them to hide.  “Momma Bear’s in a fury, I would stay back for another minute if I were you.”

His comment caught the attention of said Momma Bear, however, as he whipped back around towards them and finally took a deep breath to calm himself.  The cringing focus of his fury opened an eye to see if he was done yelling at her before shifting to see who Metal was talking to, though it was difficult from her position due to her arm.  A double yell for her name echoed around the lab, as they could see her just fine, and she cringed yet again.

Lynda came into her sight first, though Itara expected as much from the unmistakably shrill voice of the human woman who battered her with just as many – if not the exact same – questions as RK while Metal laughed at her from afar.  Itara hadn’t seen Zero yet, either, as he followed Metal and backed further away from the situation.  Eventually, RK informed Lynda that he’d already covered what she was saying and she quieted down, if only for a second.  It was then that the second presence finally came into Itara’s view.

Her eyes widened and she froze.

Mira.

She knew she saved them, that had been her entire purpose of traveling back so far.  But to see him again, in the present, with RK and Metal and Lynda, nearly broke her into tears.  She managed to hiccup them back and hold her breath until she was sure they were gone, but when RK lowered her back to her feet so she could fully face him again, the tears burst forth unhindered.  She broke down into hysterical bawls as Mira reached over and wrapped his arms tightly around her, petting her head softly, but remained silent.  Even when she blubbered out apologies, he let her continue, uninterrupted, for several minutes until it became quiet whimpers. The mobian parents she’d gone so far back for, that she’d gotten stuck in the past for.  They were still alive, and they made it.  They got to the base.

RK stepped back to let them have a moment, knowing they both needed it, and answered Lynda’s confused stare with a shake of his head.  When Itara finally quieted down, another set of steps wandered down into the lab, though Metal gave no response this time and, instead, moved back to the computer having lost his amusement with the situation.  He, like RK, had an idea what was about to come next and wanted even less to do with it.

Hardly any less shaken than earlier, but at least managing to get down the steps without tripping, Kelly edged her way cautiously over to them.  She eyed the robots and Lynda first before her eyes fell to Mira and Itara, her expression growing unsure at the sight of the hiccupping mess of a child but continued down.  Once Mira realized she was there, he turned towards her with uncertainty, but it eased when Kelly offered a small smile.  She crouched down beside the little girl and reached out to rest a hand on her head, getting a small jump from her before she looked over.

They remained silent as Kelly reached over to wrap her up in a hug, sending Itara back into a bawling mess of apologies. Unlike Mira, however, Kelly shook her head and smiled, interrupting her with reassurances that it was all okay and she had nothing to apologize for.  She kept her close until the cries died down and Itara moved to stand up straight again, staring up at the both of them with wide, puffy red eyes.

“I-I’m s-so sorry,” she stammered, but before either of them could respond she continued, “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you before.  I should have woken up sooner.  I should have seen it coming.  I… I didn’t…,” she sniffled and Mira reached over to pet her head again.

“Stop apologizing.  It wasn’t your fault.  If anything, it was m-,” he winced at the thought but forced out, “It was m-mine. RK explained what happened, I should have checked the lab again.”  Kelly reached over to grab his hand when she noticed his wince, offering another smile, though it only darkened the look on Mira’s face, “I’m sorry, Kelly.  I should have…”

She shook her head and smiled again, “Doesn’t matter now, anyway, right?”  She looked to Itara and her once shaky, unsure grin only grew in size and certainty, “we’re all here now, right?  Besides, RK said you didn’t even have access to… whatever powers you apparently have now back then.”

Itara’s brows furrowed as she looked between them and RK, “You know?”

Kelly nodded, “It took me through a bit of a whirl but… hey, what’s done is done, right?  Like I said, we’re all here now, and from the sounds of it there are bigger problems at hand.”

“Finally, someone made a point,” Metal grumbled from across the room.  He went from amused right back to grumpy and impatient during their conversation and had leaned against the computer desk again, arms crossed, scowling at a far wall. RK shot him a glare but Metal never saw it as his attention was drawn back to the group as Itara took a deep breath, though winced when she did.

“Ow.”

“I suppose Kelly does have a point, for once, there are bigger issues,” Mira stated, readjusting himself and standing back up straight, “and first, that’s getting you taken care of, Itara.  You look a wreck, what happened?  Where have you been?”

Itara sighed, though winced again, “I’ll explain, but first… I need a nap.  I’m exhausted.”

“You look it, come on,” RK finally cut in and reached down to pick her up.  She never wanted to leave that spot again.  “And what happened to your cast?”

“It… burned off,” Itara frowned.  She could control them much better now, but it turned out no mortal creation could withstand the full heat of her new fire powers. She didn’t so much need the cast for the cooling effects anymore, but it did worsen her broken arm.  Especially across several months when she couldn’t get it properly fixed.  She knew it healed wrong in that time.  But it had been worth it.  Mira and Kelly were alive and they were just as happy to see her as they were before. Despite everything that had happened, everything that was still happening, despite the battling Gods just one city over that she had everything to do with, they were still happy to see her.

Going back was worth it and her decision to fight against Solaris was all the more cemented in her head.  RK and Metal weren’t the only ones she had to protect: Now there was Mira and Kelly and Lynda and Simon and Ned and even Sceira. She had to keep them safe from Solaris’ destruction this time.  She told RK once before, in a timeline reset, that she would fix everything and he and Kipper wouldn’t get stuck in Crisis City again and she was determined to keep good on that promise.  She would keep them all alive, however she had to.

But first, she desperately needed a nap.

Unfortunately, as soon as they reached the top of the stairs and entered the main house, Itara was jolted out of her thoughts by Simon rather suddenly jumping out from around the corner.

“ITARA!  You’re back! You’re okay!  What happened?!  Where were you?!  What-?”

“Not now, Simon,” RK interrupted and continued down the hall to the bathroom, much to Itara’s relief.  She was glad Simon was okay, too, but she did not have the energy to deal with him at the moment.

Lynda hushed Simon, but followed after them, herself. “RK, I feel like I may regret asking this again, but what is going on now?”  She hardly sounded ready for the answer.

“I’ll explain later,” RK responded as he grabbed the first aid kit from the hallway closet before continuing to the bathroom. “How long ago did your old cast burn off?  Do you need another one?  How does your arm feel?”

Itara frowned, uncertain with all the attention on her so suddenly, but sighed at RK’s question.  “It’s… been a while.  But I… I think it needs a new one, yeah.  I’ll explain it all later, there’s a lot to tell.”  RK sighed at the sound of that but nodded and went about getting her cleaned and fixed up.  He drew a bath, pulled out what he needed from the kit, and sent Mira and Kelly for clothes and the medical bag on the kitchen table that contained the cast replacements.  He then sent a message to Metal to keep an eye on the scanners and called out for Ned, asking if he could cook something up for Itara to eat after her bath and nap, informing him on everything that was in the kitchen.  There was clearly a lot to unpack and prepare for, but at least Itara was finally home.  He would find relief in that.

  The skies were smoldering, the ground shattered and crumbled, the sea floors flooded inland.  Violent tendrils snapped at the last remnants of ground and air forces, ending defenses in explosive destruction.  Fires ripped through the few remaining shelters, tearing down bases and filling the last hopes of survivors with deadly smoke as they scrambled out into hordes of waiting monsters.  Roaring floods snatched unsuspecting victims trying to overrun cities away to sea, never to be seen again.

A hero hedgehog beaten to an inch of his life.

A fox smashed out of the air.

An echidna buried rubble.

G.U.N. units laid to waste in droves by massive golems.

A black hedgehog surrounded by swimming darkness.

And a robot, broken, shattered, in pieces.

 Itara darted from her bed with a yelp and looked frantically around the dark room, filled with the somber red glow from beyond the drawn curtains.  A candle, blown out hours ago, sat beside her on the nightstand, next to a thick, black brand-new book.  Soft, muffled chatter drifted through the closed bedroom door, several voices she didn’t recognize right away, that quieted after a moment, followed by a pair of footsteps that drew near.  She sat, rigid, staring the door down with wide eyes until it creaked open to reveal the elder fox.  She sighed and relaxed at the sight and leaned back against the bed’s headboard as Ned walked cautiously over.

“You alright there, girly?”

“Y-Yeah… yeah, I’m fine.”

“You need anything?”

She remained silent as he approached, unsure of the answer at first.  Eventually she shook her head and moved to get up, Ned watching over her every move, “I need to talk with everyone.  Where’s RK?”

“He’s downstairs with the other robots,” he explained, helping her off the bed and checking that she was alright.  “Glad to see you home and in one piece, little one. We were worried.”

Itara gave him a small, forced smile before leading the way out of the bedroom, “Y-yeah… me too.  I’m glad to see you got here alright, too, Ned.  I wasn’t sure if my warning got through or not.”

“So that was you, then,” the fox nodded as Simon bound up to them.  Itara turned a bit red in the face but said nothing.

“Itara!  You’re up… uh,” Simon frowned and gave her a quick look over before his gaze went to the ground, his face flushing up, “I’m… glad you’re okay.  I don’t know what happened but…,” he turned back towards her again with the most pitiful look she’d ever seen on the human boy, “Itara, we’re so sorry about what happened at the festival.  We didn’t mean it, I promise.  We were just scared, we… Camilla didn’t…”

“It’s fine,” Itara frowned, her own gaze drifted off elsewhere.  Admittedly, she was still upset about the ordeal, but knew better than to blame them. “It was… a stressful situation. But I guess you guys know now, I’m not a normal hedgehog.  I’m… a part of Solaris.  I’m… I’m sorry I scared you.”  She looked back, wary of his reaction and studied the shocked expression on his face for some time.  But, with a great amount of relief, Simon grinned again.

“I guess it makes sense, you’ve never really been normal.”  Itara hitched at the accusation, but Simon just laughed, “it’s kind of cool, actually. Can you show me your powers sometime again?”

Itara’s face flushed again as she struggled to regain her composure but gave him a nervous laugh, “Uh, y-yeah, I guess… later, though.”  She shook her head and continued towards the lab door, “I have to talk to RK now.”

“Oh, yeah, sure, glad you’re okay though, Itara,” Simon threw out as she nodded and headed downstairs where she could already hear the robots talking.  Though, there appeared to be one more than she was expecting.

“-idiot faker and his role in all this, but we aren’t safe from this rampaging, even here.  These barriers can take a number of hits, but if the ground around us starts melting, these walls mean nothing.”  That was Metal’s voice, for sure.  He sounded as disgruntled as ever, she was sure that would never change.

“Other than the reset timeline, has this happened before?”  Itara didn’t recognize that voice right away, but it sent a shiver up her spine.

RK and Metal glanced back at the newcomer robot, realizing he hadn’t been around for Chaos’ first awakening or the lessons on Gaia, prompting RK to explain, “Yes, technically, though separately. Chaos was risen once before by Robotnik about twenty years back.  He attacked Station Square after absorbing the negative energy of the Chaos Emeralds, but Sonic was able to use the remaining energy of the Emeralds to fight him.”

“And if the tales are to be believed, it’s been a few hundred years since Dark and Light Gaia last arose,” Metal added, “According to the manuscripts, Dark Gaia destroys the world and Light Gaia remakes it, they both go back to sleep, and the cycle repeats.  They apparently do this on a regular basis every thousand years so this is early for them.”

“And Solaris was released, in a past timeline, in the form of this Mephiles and Iblis?” Zero questioned.

“Sort of,” RK frowned, “Solaris split into Mephiles and Iblis and were then sealed individually.  Mephiles was released first thanks to Robotnik and went about releasing Iblis to become Solaris again.  He attempted to destroy time, itself, but Shadow, Metal, and I fought him using the Emeralds and managed to… talk him down, per se. Through Itara.”

Zero’s brows furrowed as he considered all this, but looked to Metal after a moment with a glare, “Wait, the manuscripts?”

A grin spread across Metal’s face but RK was the first to respond, wanting to avoid another fight and knowing full-well that Metal would cause one entirely on purpose.  “Yes, Metal managed to grab them and it’s good he did, otherwise they’d be at the bottom of the ocean in a destroyed base now.  But that’s beside the point.  The point is, in every case, the Emeralds are needed to even have a shot at fighting them, and that’s usually just to put them back to sleep, but we don’t have them.  Chaos absorbed them whole this time so as far as anyone’s concerned, they’re lost to us. Not only are all three of them rampaging at full power, at the same time, but the only option for facing them is gone.”

Metal leaned back against the computer desk and crossed his arms, going into silent thought about the situation, his own eyes narrowing after some time.  “Is it even possible to fight them at this point?”

“I’m… not sure,” RK frowned, looking up at him, his frustration replaced with uncertainty.

“They can’t simply be cut down?” Zero questioned.

“Yeah, you go ahead and try to cut down an actual time-altering God with that laser sword of yours,” Metal scoffed, “We’ll be sure to recycle your leftover parts.  If there even are any.”  He rolled his eyes while Zero glared and RK shot him a dirty look.  Metal only responded by throwing his arms in the air in frustration, “We have the tiny child back and she’s got her powers back, we should be asking her this!”

“And we will, when she wakes up,” RK responded, but was soon interrupted by said tiny child making her presence known by approaching.

“I’m up,” she frowned, grabbing the attention of all three robots, though RK was the only one to move as he quickly swept her up in his arms.

“Did you get enough rest?”

“It’s about time, brat,” Metal scoffed, though his tone had noticeably lightened.

Itara resisted a smirk as RK sat back down at the computer, “I missed you too, Metal.”  But her mood dropped as she glared at Zero, “what is he doing here?”

“I’m here to help,” Zero explained as flatly as ever.  “As it happens, you’ve become my most likely ticket home.”

Itara’s face scrunched up in distaste, but turned her attention back to Metal and RK, “well, in any case, there’s a lot we need to talk about.”  She wasn’t looking forward to the coming conversation, though.  It wouldn’t be what they wanted to hear.  But they needed to know, if they were going to survive. “Firstly, that you’re right.  Not having the Chaos Emeralds makes things… difficult.”

“But there is another way to defeat them, right?” Metal questioned, however, Itara’s elongated silence made his already grumpy nature grow dark as he repeated, “Right?”

Itara visibly hitched but took a deep breath and let it out slowly, “There… isn’t.”  She looked up to study their faces, but even the strangely expressive robots turned unreadable, causing her to cringe.  “Unfortunately, as it stands, there’s no means of defeating them.  Not all of them, not as they are.  Right now, our best chance is to just survive.”

Metal’s face was the first to show his thoughts as his eyes narrowed into a scowl.  However, before he could voice whatever threat was coming, RK spoke up first, “For now?”  He’d known Itara’s habits well enough by now to know there was more to the story.  The other two turned questioning gazes to her and she nodded in response.  She was glad RK picked up on the hidden meaning.

“I wanted to let you know first before I told the others, it’ll be harder to explain to them.  They’ll want to try and fight, but if we do, we’ll die.  No matter what we do right now, it won’t work. The Gods are going to fight it out and no one, not even me, not even Sonic has the power to do anything about it. The emeralds can stop one of them on their own, but not only do we not have them, but not even the Master Emerald has the power to stop all three.  Of course, you know Sonic is trying, but he’ll run himself into the ground long before he succeeds.”  She studied the robots, wanting to ensure they understood her as her voice grew more serious, “G.U.N. will fall.  The Freedom Fighters will fall.  Even Sonic will fall.”

“And you know this for sure?” Zero questioned, the most disbelieving of the three.

“I’m a time traveler.  My powers are limited, but I can see that far, at least.”

“But you said ‘for now’,” Metal growled, reiterating RK’s earlier point.  He was growing frustrated with the news and Itara realized it was best to get to the point before he attacked something.  Or someone.

“Right, yes,” she nodded, losing the dark tone again, “for now, our best bet is to just survive.  This base is well protected, if we use the emergency defense system, the bigger one, and avoid as much exposure to the battle as possible, we have a better chance.  If we can survive long enough, there’s…,” she looked off in thought, trying to figure out how to explain it, “there may be a solution in the future.”  She eyed RK and Metal as she finished, “but we’re going to need to find Shadow.”

 END

[ciathyzareposts]

Missed Classic: Trinity – Is This the 50s? Or 1999?

Written by Joe Pranevich

Welcome back! Last time out, I explored the strange mushroom forest that I was dropped into after the end of the world. This “wabe”, as I think it is called, is a strange place set in the shadow of a gigantic sundial and includes giant bees, an impossible flower garden, a cottage with game design notes, and a half-dozen mushrooms with little doors. But this isn’t The Smurfs: each mushroom appears to have been created by a nuclear detonation. As I closed out last time, I finally worked out how to control the movement of the “sun” overhead to drop shadows on each of the doors. I opened the first door and was dropped back into reality, somewhere and somewhen.

This game remains difficult to write about. My usual style is a bit flippant and just not appropriate for the subject matter, but I also cannot help to be quippy. I’ll try to keep the tone light as much as I can, but this is a difficult game with difficult themes and some of the scenes in this session are disturbing. I had to step away from the game at one point for a few days. Fair warning, but on with the show.

Ray Palmer seems like such a nice guy.

When I walked through the mushroom door in my previous post, I arrived in a rickety room filled with equipment that I do not understand. The white door remains open and I can use it to return to the mesa in the wabe, but then it closes immediately after. No amount of resetting the sundial opens the door again so I assume there is no way back. Will I only get one shot at each doorway? Is there a way to know what order I have to take the doors? I hope Mr. Moriarty won’t be too evil about this, but I am prepared for a lot of saving and reloading.

The equipment that I stand next to is radioactive and obviously a nuclear bomb, but I’m not positive which bomb it is. Climbing down the scaffolding, I find myself in a large room with aircraft hangar-style doors. They are too heavy to open, but there’s a button nearby so it’s not much of a puzzle. A second button activates an intercom speaker and a voice informs anyone listening that it is six minutes to detonation. I’d better hurry! I open the doors and head out onto a tropical island. Thanks to the manual’s history lesson, I guess that this is the H-Bomb explosion in 1952. The documentation just says a “remote island in the South Pacific” and I was fairly certain that was Bikini Atoll, but a quick Wikipedia search informs me that the first test was actually on nearby Enewetak Atoll.

Focusing on the present, I notice that the tide is coming in. That voice in my ear sniggers that “Gnomon can tether tide or time.” Whoever he is, he’s less clever than he thinks he is. We start exploring from our vantage point on the south of the island. To the west is a second island with a single coconut tree. Thanks to a mob of attacking crabs, there is no way to get to that island or its lone tree. To the north is an “extension” of wood leading off the island, described as being like a six-foot in diameter drinking straw connecting the facility to someplace offshore. It’s too high up to climb and I do not see a way to access it from the hangar shed. While exploring, a shark follows me around the island, but when I reach the eastern shore he reveals himself to actually be a friendly dolphin! That’s cute, but… er… he’s going to die pretty soon.

R.I.P Flipper. None under sea were smarter than he.

Beyond that, there doesn’t seem to be much to do here. After a time, I notice that the western island has sunk under the tide and only a single coconut remains floating in the water. There is no obvious way to fetch it but it screams “puzzle” and must be important for something. I eventually work out that the dolphin is actually incredibly intelligent and fetches the coconut for me when I ask. I break it open with my axe but find only coconut milk inside. What did I expect? A priceless gem? The “milk” leaks out quickly and I restore so as not to lose it. Could that be “good enough” for the potion at the cottage? The magpie said that we needed milk, honey, garlic, and a lizard. Surely, this vegan substitute for milk isn’t “good enough” for a magic potion, is it? With nothing else to do and the timer ticking down, I leave my paradise to its fate and return through the white door.

I do some fast Googling to learn that the island was called Elugelab; the blast destroyed it utterly, leaving only a 15-story deep crater in the ocean bed where an island once had been. The wooden “straw” led to the nearby Teiter Island which survived the blast. There doesn’t seem to be any real-world counterpart to the tiny island with the coconuts; as a tidal island it’s not likely to have appeared on any maps and Moriarty may have just made it up.

When I return to the “wabe”, I immediately try the coconut milk in the potion and it seems to work! I’m not sure how that counts, but I have three ingredients now. I need to find a lizard.

Princess Peach has seen better.

The Mushroom Kingdom

With my first trip out of the way and the knowledge of how to open the doors, I take stock of the rest of the portal toadstools:

The first is in the meadow where I started. It doesn’t open again now but presumably led to Kensington Gardens.

The second is the toadstool at the waterfall.

I cannot find the third. I suspect that it is near the boy blowing bubbles and possibly somewhere I need to fly to if I can work out how to gain altitude. Or perhaps the boy is sitting on it?

The fourth is the one that I just explored on the mesa.

The fifth is in the garden behind the magpie’s cottage.

The sixth door is on the moor far to the east of the map.

I cannot find the seventh, but I expect that it is probably wherever the ferryman takes you.

My guess is that Mr. Moriarty is clever and has made each of the toadstools independent so that you can take them in any order. I therefore try the second one next and am immediately proven wrong: it leads out into Earth orbit with no spacesuit and nearly instant death. Nukes in space? There must be a way to survive there to do whatever I need to do, but I’m pretty sure I don’t have the means yet.

The death scene at least offers some hints as we arrive, dead, at the ferryman’s river. This time, we have a coin and use it to board the boat to the great beyond. Other than that, I don’t glean any further hints how to cross without dying so I restore and try the next mushroom.

As a kid, I visited the Psygnosis offices in Cambridge. It was amazing. By coincidence, I later worked in the exact same office long after they had moved out.

Mother Russia

I take the fifth door next and arrive in what appears to be an elevated shack on the Siberian steppe. It’s cold and gray and someone is speaking in Russian on the loudspeaker. Google fails me and has no idea what “dyevianatsat minut” means, but Infocom was likely using either a nonstandard (or simply outdated now) romanization. My guess is that they meant “devyatnadtsat’ minut” (девятнадцать минут) or nineteen minutes. Plenty of time, right?

I climb down from the shack and immediately step on a rodent underfoot. In fact, the ground is mobbed by hundreds or thousands of creatures all racing to the northeast. They “look something like hamsters, with long brown fur and beady eyes”. Should I follow them? Or see where they came from? I try heading “upstream” against the tide of creatures, but Russian guards kill me so that’s not the way. I follow them instead to discover a cliff edge where the rodents are jumping off in apparent mass-suicide. Only then does the game tell me what you already figured out: they are lemmings! Of course, lemmings don’t actually jump off of cliffs, right? That’s just an urban legend spread by an old (faked) Disney documentary?

At the cliff, I discover a single trapped lemming in a fissure. I rescue it but it quickly bites my hand and disappears into the mass. If I release the magpie, I can grab it and then stick it in the cage. Is that a good trade? Do I need the magpie for anything? Remembering back last week, I did not get any points for it (only for the cage) so maybe not? Also, lemmings are not lizards even if they have the same starting letter, and even if the potion took coconut milk instead of cow’s milk, that would be too much of a stretch. I find nothing else of interest on the tundra. I even jump off the cliff once but just drown in the frigid Arctic water. Once there is nothing left to do and the countdown is presumably getting close, I head back through the door.

Doing some real-world research, I learn that I wasn’t on the Russian steppe after all: the Soviets did their nuclear testing at a site in Kazakhstan. I was close enough though since that was part of the Soviet Union until 1991 and Moriarty would likely not have seen it as a separate country. The test site was 100 miles west of Semipalatinsk (now called Semey) and the region sees many health problems thanks to all of the tests performed there. There doesn’t seem to be any real-world analogue to the cliffs as the nearest bodies of water I can find to the test site are frozen lakes around 25 miles to the northeast according to Google Earth. Am I looking too deeply at this? Absolutely. I’m procrastinating writing the next section.

A spoonful of sugar helps the deep existential dread go down?

Hiroshima

The sixth door is my only remaining choice, located on the moor just north of the ferryman’s river. Stepping through, we find ourselves in midair and falling fast. Unlike in the space section, we have a few turns to experiment before we land with a splat and I have an idea what to do: open the umbrella! Doing so slows our descent enough that we land safely in a children’s sandbox. Writing this section is choking me up, so I’m going to pause by just giving you the room description:

Playground, in a sandpile

A set of children’s swings move back and forth in the humid breeze. Behind them stands a long building, its windows hung with flowers and birds folded from colored paper.

Mounds of dirt are heaped around a dark opening to the east. It appears to be a shelter of some kind.

Several small children are happily chasing dragonflies north of the swing set. Turning south, you see a group of adults (schoolteachers, by the looks of them), wearily digging another shelter like the first.

Somewhat shaken, you rise to your feet in a child’s sandpile. In the pile, you see an umbrella, an axe, and a birdcage.

We know what’s about to happen and it’s devastating. I gather together my things and discover that I can really only move east towards the shelter without being caught. Inside is a disgusting and rough hewn bomb shelter, filthy and smelling of urine from the people that had to relieve themselves while waiting out the terror outside. It’s an awful thought. There’s a spade on the ground which I pick up, but otherwise there’s nothing else to do.

I leave and discover that a girl is now playing in the sandpit. She spots me and nearly runs to her teacher, but then she spots my umbrella and her curiosity gets the best of her. I can tell that she wants it, so I hand it to her and she runs off into the shelter to play. Could she be the scarred woman in London? Do I even want to consider that?

There is still nowhere else that I can go safely, but seeing folded paper cranes in a nearby school window gives me a thought. I follow her into the shelter and hand the girl my unfolded origami crane from the beginning of the game, the one that gave me the message to go to the Long Water by 4 PM. She folds it back into its original crane shape and I gain three points. It glows with a strange energy. I return outside and the crane grows into a giant living paper bird. I climb on its back and it takes me up to just outside the white door, still suspended in midair, where I can leap off and through. Whew!

From a game perspective, that was an interesting segment and very much “on rails”. If I had not brought the paper or umbrella with me, I could not have progressed, plus it was really only two rooms that I had to move back and forth between to advance story segments. More than any other section of the game except perhaps the first near-future in London, this paints a human face on the misery of the bomb. Honestly, this section wrecked me and I needed to take some time off from the game. I’m really not cut out for reviewing this type of emotional experience. This game hurts. I don’t even care that I don’t know if that was Hiroshima or Nagasaki, I’m done and need to move on.

“You can either look at things in a brutal, truthful way that’s depressing, or you can screw around and have fun.” – David Spade

Calling a Spade, a Spade

With no more toadstool doors to explore– I haven’t found the third or seventh and the second one kills me immediately– I resolve find places in the wabe where my new items might be useful. I still have up a spade, a lemming, and an open coconut. It takes some experimentation, but I’ll skip my failures and move straight to the good part: I can open the crypt in the cemetery!

Using the spade, we pry off the lid to see the corpse of the “Wabewalker” (me?). This was well-hinted since I was told earlier that I needed more “leverage” to move the lid and a spade is certainly leverage. I had hoped the grave would be empty, but instead I look down at a “great missionary or explorer” in his final rest. I hope this game does not go all Infidel on me. The corpse is wearing a burial shroud, a bandage around his head, and two strangely colored boots: one red and one green. Like any good tomb raider, I strip the corpse and take all of his stuff. His mouth hangs open once the bandage is removed and I discover a silver coin inside. Fare for the ferryman? The boots each have a strange (but empty) recess at the tip of the toes. Do I have to hide something in them? With the corpse thoroughly desecrated, I’m nearly halfway through the game: 49 points!

While exploring, I also get the brilliant idea to float the Bubble Boy’s bubble out through the “space” doorway. Amazingly, it fits! The bubble immediately freezes to create a protective shell and that somehow keeps us from dying in the cold vacuum of space. Unfortunately, there is no way to control the bubble and the white door drifts rapidly away from us. After a time, a satellite comes closer and then departs again without letting us do whatever we are supposed to do. There is briefly a Star Wars-style laser destruction of a missile, but nothing to do except wait it out and die. There are still things that I am missing before I can conquer outer space.

What happened to the other five stories?

Desert Island Decameron

I wear all of my burial clothes and the ferryman lets me on the boat! He takes the silver coin as payment (but not the London 20p one) and deposits me across the river. There is no entrance to Hades or two-headed dogs, but there is a small island with the expected toadstool on it. When I arrive with the seventh symbol set on the sundial, I emerge into another rickety shack next to a large metal ball covered with wires.

There are voices outside and if I leave prematurely, I am killed– more on that in a minute. But if I explore the room first the voices eventually leave. I use that time to try to open the bomb via an access panel that I discover on the side, but no dice without a screwdriver. I even try using the London coin, but it doesn’t fit. A book sits discarded on the floor, the Desert Island Decameron. Doing some Googling, I discover that it is an “unconventional anthology of humor”… a strange thing to find in a room with a giant bomb, but perhaps one of the guards needed a little light reading while he considered the hellscape that he was potentially helping to create. Inside is a bookmark with a poem on one side and a diagram scrawled on the other. I get four points for reading it so it must be important, but the only part we can “see” in text is the legend: “RD=DET, BL=POS, ST=INF, WH=GND”. My guess is that we are looking at a wiring diagram and an explanation on how to defuse the bomb. In any event, it’s useless without the panel being opened.

Once the voices are gone, I exit and climb down the ladder. At the bottom is a padlocked box… and our friend the roadrunner! He’s finally back in his natural habitat and seems happy to see me. He even drops the ruby at my feet! I pick it up to gain a few more points and from this moment the roadrunner follows me around. I cannot open the padlocked panel, even when I try to smash it with the axe or spade. Letting the lemming go doesn’t help either and I do not see any lizards here.

I’m going to pass on delving too deeply into my explorations of the New Mexico desert for now, except to say that we only get a few turns before we die and even with successive restores I do not find much of interest. I suspect that I am here before I am ready; maybe I find a way to slow down time? Maybe by defusing the bomb at the beginning, the test is delayed by a few minutes and I can explore further before dying?

Perhaps more importantly, this is the message that I get when I inevitably die:

All at once, the desert around you disappears in a flash of startling brilliance! You jam your hands over your eyes in the awful glare; never see the fireball closing in at many times the speed of sound; and never feel the stellar hear that annihilates much of the state of New Mexico.

The real Trinity test, which I am certain is where this gate has taken us, did not nuke the state of New Mexico. It was relatively modest as far as later bombs were concerned and so something must have happened to change history. Have I finally stumbled on the plot of the game? Did someone or something interfere with the Trinity test to make it even deadlier than before? It’s a great twist if that’s what happened and I am eager to see how the game continues.

For now however, I am stuck and have a few open problems to solve:

I have yet to find the third toadstool. I thought it was by the Bubble Boy, but since we use the bubble to go to space I was probably mistaken. I will have to search for it since there’s something I missed someplace.

I do not know what to do with the wight, either to help it or kill it. Could the crypt’s skeleton key by the solution to the lock in New Mexico?

I do not know what to do in space.

I do not know what to do with the magnetic meteorite.

I do not know where to find a lizard. It seems most likely to be in New Mexico, but I doubt it given that even if we find a way to reopen the doors, I don’t seem to have a path back across the river to the main part of the wabe.

I did manage to get 70 points, but I’ve reloaded now to before crossing the ferry so I will have to get some of those again.

Time played: 2 hr 15 min Total time: 7 hr 25 min

Inventory: bag of crumbs, small coin (20p), silver coin, red boot, blue boot, bandage, burial shroud, credit card, wristwatch, birdcage with lemming, broken coconut, and silver axe. (Not all being carried at once.) Score: 70 of 100

source http://reposts.ciathyza.com/missed-classic-trinity-is-this-the-50s-or-1999/

[eponymous-rose]

Best-Laid Plans...

We had a great arc-ending session last night, so I thought this might be a fun chance to share how I prep as a DM... and how things inevitably changed in the game itself!

(If you’re one of my players stumbling onto this, hi, and also thank you again for the amazing scotch. Please let me know you’ve found this account so I can be careful about what I give away in these posts in the future!)

Basically, the entire goofy premise of this arc was, “Hey, so bards have access to the spell Modify Memory. With carefully targeted concerts, a boy band could secretly be changing the fate of nations.”

This campaign’s set (mostly for my convenience in early-game worldbuilding) in CR’s Tal’Dorei campaign setting, during the year gap that happened toward the end of their first campaign. The party started in Kymal, since it was a good-sized city in the middle of everything that hadn’t really been explored too much in the show.

As the campaign begins, the monster-hunting guild from the show, the Slayers’ Take, are expanding their operation into Tal’Dorei’s Dividing Plains (in large part because Vanessa wanted to get Lyra out of Vasselheim for a while), and their first round of advertising for potential new recruits has pulled in a pretty good crowd. Under Lyra’s eccentric delegation, the players get grouped together for a job that involves checking out the mysterious disappearance of a bookish elf in town, under the assumption that some monstrous beastie has devoured him, and that beastie should probably be hunted. Instead, they find a lot of deep-dive research into the Feywild, along with a weird portal in his basement that takes them to a strange pocket plane where they fight some sentient plants and talk to an extremely creepy entity that offers them protection from scrying eyes in exchange for an ill-defined favor.

After getting jumped by a group of kobolds (one of whom they sort of accidentally befriend via cookie-related bribes and implications that they may be some sort of deity), the group decides that avoiding whatever’s trying to take them out is a good call. They head back to report a modified version of their findings to Lyra... and find her standing over the corpses of all the other Slayer's Take hopefuls, badly shaken and completely baffled as to why she'd do such a thing. They opt to hang out and wait for the authorities to take her into custody, which results in a bit of confusion and a night spent in jail with their kobold pal.

The city watch eventually opts to let them go, but offer the party a job joining their security detail for the city's charismatic but not-terribly-effectual margrave as he does a meet-and-greet tour of the local casinos. The group agrees to meet at the margrave's mansion that evening to help out... and they promptly spend the day smuggling illegal materials across the city wall for a friendly local tavern owner. As you do.

The meet-and-greet is fairly uneventful until the margrave enters one of the largest casinos in town (the two largest are, of course, fronts run by the Clasp and the Myriad crime organizations, respectively), at which point the party's recollection of events starts to diverge. The druid and the fighter see mysterious black-robed figures attacking from an upper balcony of the building, and are about to chase after them... when the other two members of their party suddenly collapse, unconscious and bleeding. The sorcerer and the ranger saw something very different. After succeeding at a wisdom saving throw that the others failed (the results of which were kept secret from the rest of the party), they managed to shake off the effects of a Modify Memory spell and see what really happened: a single black-robed figure stalking up to the margrave and shooting him in the head with a crossbow. They attempt to engage the attacker and are quickly cut down by the attacker's allies.

In the chaos, the party are joined by one surviving hopeful of that first night at the Slayer's Take, who'd disappeared before the carnage started: a human woman named Zo, who manages to smuggle them out through a passage underneath the casino. Once the injured party members are patched up, she reveals that she's a Spireling working for the Clasp. She's very careful to dance around most of the group's questions, and is very curious as to how they survived the attack on the Slayers' Take, which the group manages to avoid answering as well. It's all very tense, but eventually Zo strongly requests that they venture into the nearby mountains to find a powerful and ancient creature that once pledged its aid to the Clasp. When they hesitate, she casually threatens their families. Thieves' guilds, man. Often helpful, but definitely not nice. She smuggles them out of town through the Clasp's web of sewers and tunnels.

The group does a little meandering outside the city, makes some friends, has a good old-fashioned dungeon crawl, helps patch things up a bit between a devil and a deva (the most awkward of ex-girlfriends)... and everyone occasionally gets pulled into the Feywild for tests and trials, apparently being administered by an underling (a deeply sarcastic satyr woman who delights in her surreal brand of middle management) of the same entity that contacted them way back at the beginning. There's a lot of near-death experiences, an attempt at befriending a blink dog, and everyone winds up assigned a particular symbol. It's all very mysterious, but the party's getting stronger as a result.

Eventually, the group finds the Clasp's protector, a bronze dragon, killed with a dire warning written in its blood on the wall behind it.

They very nearly decide to make a run for it, but after some deliberation, they instead sneak back into Kymal to find that things are... pretty much normal, for the most part. According to the inhabitants of the city, the margrave's fine and dandy after the assassination "attempt". The party tries to head back to chat with their pal the tavern owner, but find his tavern abandoned and in the middle of being robbed... by a group including their old kobold buddy. The kobold cheerfully switches allegiances to their side (the fighter has a bag of infinite cookies), helps them chase off the robbers, and introduces them to a fastidious street-cleaner friend who witnessed a body being removed from the casino during the assassination "attempt".

The party finally decides to go poking around the margrave's mansion, where they run into their tavern-owner friend who seems to be doing the same thing. He admits that his relationship with the Clasp may be a little more friendly than he first implied, and says he's sniffing around on Zo's orders. He's startled when an ordinary-looking toolshed appears, covered in chains. The party realizes that the fighter's symbol from their Feywild excursion is a link of chains, and as soon as he touches the chains, they vanish.

The party, plus the tavern owner (a gold dragonborn monk from Marquet named Orshi), wind up in a strange sequence of puzzle rooms running under the margrave's mansion that generally require them to leverage the symbols they were given in the Feywild to solve - for instance, the solution to one puzzle can only be written in a book by the druid (whose symbol was a feather) using a feather quill, and the ranger (whose symbol was an eye) is the only one who can see the correct path through a maze.

And right in the middle of all those puzzles is where we left off!

So here's my preparation: 

I had a set of things that needed to happen in this session:

Finish up the puzzles with something that leveraged the symbol of a glowing star.

Reveal that the Fantasy Backstreet Boys (mentioned in passing at least once per session as passing through Kymal on tour) are an illusion created by a powerful group of magic-users to get them access to (and the ability to modify the memories of and/or get away with assassinating) important figures in towns across the Dividing Plains and beyond.

Answer some of the party's extant questions, because they'd been in the dark long enough and deserved some closure.

I set it up with seven brief (1-2--page) documents, laid out as follows:

Recap of the previous sessions (we hadn't played in a few months).

Puzzle rooms! The first puzzle was a play on a moving tile puzzle from an Uncharted game, where the hints leading to the correct path could only be found by having the sorcerer (with the symbol of a glowing star) be the one to light the room up. I decided at the last minute to be a jerk and also do the classic countdown puzzle room, where the doors lock behind the party and an extremely ominous countdown from 20 starts, which can be reset by pressing a button in the middle of the room (the idea being that the party's own paranoia will keep them mashing that button while they search every inch of the room... but it turns out that the countdown is just until the door opens and means nothing more; it's a great test to see how convinced your players are that character death is a possibility, because if they hesitate a lot you're probably pushing it too hard, but if they don't hesitate at all to let the countdown run out they're probably feeling a bit immortal). These puzzles are being manufactured by an entity with a vested interest in just plain annoying the group, so it seemed like a good call.

Description of the final cavern, where they see a single yuan-ti in a blue robe practicing his illusion of the Fantasy Backstreet Boys while on a conference call with his boss (whose voice is the only thing present, coming from the form of a floating silver orb). This one took some rehearsal, because I had the ominous dramatic background music slowly fading out to "Backstreet's Back" to time up with the reveal. That was a real “what is my life right now” moment.

Two documents with different dialogue possibilities based on whether the group is detected or manages to stay stealthy (if they stealth, they can potentially overhear a long conversation between this yuan-ti and his boss; if their approach is noted, they're likely to be attacked on sight).

Stat blocks for the yuan-ti (essentially a warlock) and two clockwork snakes he keeps under the stage, as well as a stat block for Orshi, who's likely to be fighting alongside the party to help make up for the extremely lopsided CR of these enemies. In addition, the room has some fairly poorly built security features in the form of statues scattered around the room - at initiative count 20, roll a d12 to pick the effect the statues have on everything in a 10-foot radius. Ideally, they're supposed to have negative effects (the yuan-ti is smart enough to do anything to avoid getting caught in those radii) like a stun, a brief application of the Confusion spell, sleep, etc., but they're malfunctioning and occasionally result in positive effects like a brief application of the Haste spell or a small pool of temporary hit points. Strategy-wise, Orshi will fight as long as the group does and will generally try to help them out where he can; the snakes are unintelligent and will often attack random enemies if surrounded instead of strategizing; and the yuan-ti is extremely smart and ruthless and will target one enemy until it's dead before moving on to the next.

The aftermath of the fight: in the middle of any looting (some fun potions and a store of trade bars of gold and silver that were being used to help bankroll this operation), Zo comes in through a hidden passageway with some of the Clasp's people. She reveals that she'd sent Orshi poking around the tool shed explicitly as a distraction so she could get her people into the margrave's mansion to poke around. They found some of the margrave's very confused staff, but no sign of the guy himself, and eventually stumbled across a secret passageway leading from his sleeping chambers down here. They'd come down ready for a fight (and if the party had delayed another day in starting this whole exploration, that fight would've happened without them), but they missed the excitement. Zo answers a lot of the party's questions (I have six or seven potential questions listed along with some point-form answers she'd give) and helps them piece together that it looks like this yuan-ti and his boss are part of a larger cult that's been pulling in mercenaries and ne'er-do-wells across the continent to quietly usurp the leadership of cities and towns for some unknown purpose possibly related to one of their snake gods. The Clasp sent Zo to the Slayer's Take to make sure they weren't trying to make a bid for power in the city (which, surprise, was Vanessa's alternative motivation), and she coincidentally got caught up in this mysterious cult's more permanent way of dealing with this upstart organization that could pose a threat to their plans. She apologizes for the earlier brute-force tactics in getting them to comply, arranges to meet Orshi at his tavern the next morning to figure out how to proceed, and invites the party to join that meeting as well. Orshi invites the party to stay at his tavern free of charge.

As they're leaving, the party are briefly pulled into the Feywild by their very excited middle-manager satyr friend, who explains that, given their performance, she's been authorized to answer some of their questions. I wrote up a series of potential questions and answers about their employer (some unknown but immensely powerful Fey creature seeking to extend their influence into the Prime Material plane - essentially, the entire party is getting a bit of a Pact of the Archfey warlock vibe), the satyr (a minor dignitary with the Seelie Court who got herself into potentially fatal trouble and had this mysterious employer to thank for pulling her out of that situation), and the place where they've been training (not actually the Feywild, but a pocket dimension made to look like it). If they ask about the elf whose disappearance started all this, she reveals that he was doing research into the Feywild, made contact with their employer, and they'd been working together to start bridging the planes, which resulted in the portal they'd stumbled into. The yuan-ti cult got wind of his research and had him killed, which accidentally drew the attention of the Slayer's Take, which got them killed (with Lyra - an extremely powerful wizard - framed via Modify Memory spell to wrap up the loose ends). Once the questioning's done, she congratulates them again, and we leave it there for the night.

I also write something up for the possibility that the party is defeated: they have a different Feywild encounter immediately, where a more subdued satyr tells them that they've been revived/healed and are currently prisoners of the yuan-ti. She assures them that their mutual employer will be looking out for them, answers some of their questions, then regretfully leaves them to their fate. Whereupon, as it turns out, Zo is about to spring her attack...

So that's the preparation I had for this week's session! Very linear, without a lot of branching paths, but I also had to be very sure about every faction's awareness, motivations, and willingness to share certain information, so it wound up being pretty involved. It also felt really contrived on paper to have these info-dumps, but I suspected it would feel more natural to the players given how badly they were looking for those answers.

And... here's what really went down!

The party solved both puzzles fairly quickly (which was a good indicator that they may be getting a bit complacent vis-a-vis potential character death, which is Good To Know for ominous reasons). The stealth check into the main chamber was only DC 13, with a group check (so all they needed was 3/5 members to succeed), but they failed hilariously with a couple of natural ones, so the yuan-ti was ready for them when they arrived. The Backstreet Boys reveal was very funny.

Before the yuan-ti could just straight-up attack them, though, the party started taunting him mercilessly. He had snakes for arms (as you do), so they started asking how he did a whole variety of everyday tasks, causing a bit of an existential crisis. They pointed out the statues and asked if he really felt like he had to build an audience for his pretend band. The druid started flirting with him aggressively, which he was kind of into? This whole back-and-forth was being yelled across a cavern, so there was a lot of "WHAT? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY? Seriously, I missed it, say that again." and at one point a couple people just got really amused by the echoes off the chamber walls and started yelling random words, adding to the chaos. The yuan-ti's employer was just listening to all this in confusion, and when the yuan-ti turned to explain what was happening, the ranger took the moment of confusion to attack.

The battle was really heated, with the fighter nearly dying a couple of times (the yuan-ti latched onto him with Vampiric Touch and kept leeching his life), Orshi taking an impromptu nap, and the sorcerer getting viciously downed by the yuan-ti after she managed to hit him with a Witch Bolt. Eventually, though, the clockwork snakes were dismantled, the yuan-ti was surrounded and out of spell slots, and he was down to 1 HP and extremely desperate. I was about to have him attempt an escape by transforming into a snake, but the party instead demanded that he surrender. I had the newly healed sorcerer roll a Persuasion check... natural 20. He compliantly went down on his knees and raised his snake hands in surrender; he's definitely smart enough to know it's best to live to fight another day.

The party tried to interrogate him, but he generally ignored what they were saying in favor of being a creep (quietly cutting in while the sorcerer was speaking to ask her what it had felt like to be so close to death, if she enjoyed the feeling, if she'd like to feel that again). The druid, in dire wolf form, responded by licking the side of his head until his hair was thoroughly messed up and he was coated in drool. They didn't get much information from him, and the group eventually decided to knock him out again.

A big debate followed: the sorcerer thought it would be best to help clear things up if they took him prisoner, but the druid argued (via replies to Message, since she was still a dire wolf) that nobody in this city would be competent enough to hold him prisoner and that it would be best to kill him. Lots of discussion followed while the group split up to do some looting, and eventually Zo's name was brought up, and it was decided that it might be best to bring him to the Clasp.

It felt like way too much of a coincidence to have Zo pop up at that moment, even thought that’s what I had planned, so I let them explore the cavern for a while, coming up with some great loot here and there, but also missing some very powerful items with slightly-too-low investigation checks. The conversation turned to the yuan-ti and the burning question that occupies everyone's minds if they think about it too much: if his arms are snakes... what other parts of him are snakes? The debate came to a head (sorry) when the druid, in dire wolf form, decided to try to pull off his pants and find out. I had her roll a general Dexterity check because she was, you know, a dire wolf.

Natural 20.

Biggest laugh of the night: the look on my face as I tried to mentally work out the logistics for a giant wolf pulling someone's trousers off Extremely Well, followed by "Okay. So. You know the tablecloth trick?" 

We all learned something about snake anatomy that day, and the new catch-phrase of our D&D group became "Sorry about your browser history, DM." After cry-laughing as a group for several minutes straight, I finally had Zo wade into this mess and start answering questions.

She was startled that they'd managed to keep the yuan-ti alive and contained (as was I, honestly, since that wasn't a possibility I'd planned for) and agreed to have the Clasp take him into custody. I am Extremely Delighted that this villain is alive. The group was very concerned about Lyra, and Zo agreed to pull some strings with the city's guard to get her released. The party brought up the death of the Clasp's protector dragon in the mountains, and Zo fell silent for half a minute, processing what that meant. Finally, they all agreed to meet up at Orshi's tavern the next day. Orshi offered to let them stay, whereupon they revealed that his place was kind of ransacked and they may have left a severed head on one of the shelves in his back room. As you do. 

They were on their way back, had their interaction with the satyr, and managed to hit nearly every answer I'd prepared for, and we called it a night from there.

Next session: wrapping up this plot, downtime, and a little fleshing out of backstories while everyone paints minis!

[the-demelza-robins]

on the rarity of sunshowers (jily)

notes: no matter how hard I try, I always come back to hogwarts!jily...

words: 3.7k

James is jumpier then usual. Lily notices at breakfast; notices how he almost stabs his toast when he tries to butter it, how he catches his snitch twenty-six times in nine minutes, how he says, “Alright, Evans?” on no less than three separate occasions (not that she minds). He fidgets enough that Sirius threatens to expel him to the first years’ seats on the far side of the table, something that causes him to attempt to hold his breath in a bid for stillness until he’s turning blue, and Lily has to resuscitate him with her wand (not that she minds). He runs his fingers through his hair so that it looks even more messy than usual. He asks Lily to Hogsmeade, and when she declines, he says, “Just joking”, and her heart aches. She wants to accept his offer, but she can’t be sure it’s a genuine one. And she must be sure.

The fact is that she has fancied James Potter far too long — a year now, starting in year six all the way up to this rainy day in December — for anything to happen. It’s a cruel twist of fate, the way that their doomed love story worked out. Lily despises it for a number of reasons, the first and foremost being that perhaps the best comeback of her life, when she’d swore she preferred the giant squid to James Potter, was no longer true - in fact, it was a blatant lie, the most opposite of the truth she could get. She would take James Potter over most things, now, including her sister.

Though perhaps that wasn’t saying much, seeing as her sister hadn’t invited her to her wedding. Apparently it had been a simple affair, a quiet wedding on the countryside. Lily could imagine it: Vernon’s new car parked close enough that the guests could still admire it but far enough away that it could melt into the hills, a cake, short vows, a proper bride. Music, but not too much, and a big, white tent with turrets that would blend in with the overcast clouds above.

Yes, Lily could picture it. But that was all she could do, because she hadn’t been invited and, as were the natural progressions of such things, had not attended. What made the situation worse was that, because of Lily’s absence, none of Petunia’s family had been there on her wedding day. Still, Lily reasoned, it was Petunia’s choice.

Petunia blamed Lily for a lot of things, the most important of which being the death of their parents. When the news of their deaths had first broke, Lily had told her sister they’d died in a car accident, and in a way they had, since their car had been blown up by Death Eaters. It had turned into a rather large scandal when Petunia was informed of the truth by way of Snape, who set about destroying Lily’s life once he realized she’d never talk to him again. Petunia had been hurt, but instead of channeling the hurt into anger and the anger into action, like Lily would’ve done, Petunia had spat and stomped and called names that Snape must’ve also taught her, names like mud-

Well. No use thinking about any of that now. Lily turns her attention back to Marlene’s nervous assessment of the weather, the way that her best friend twists with the promise ring she’d received from her Durmstrang boyfriend as she looks up at the enchanted ceiling. “No clouds, just rain, a sunshower…”

Lily wonders why this matters; seeing as they don’t have Herbology or Care of Magical Creatures (it’s a Saturday), there’s no reason for them to go outside. Lily, for one, has been planning on curling up by the fire in the Gryffindor common room and reading The Shining, a muggle book that had been her father’s last gift to her. She finds it quite intense, but on a day like today, with the rain pattering against the window, she thinks it’d be nice to escape to another world, a world where the supernatural only existed in the Overlook Hotel… She let her thoughts drift again, back to her father, who would tell her and Tuney stories before bed until she insisted she’d outgrown them. There had been one, she remembered, that involved dragons, and a little boy who was fighting them, cheered on by people in the clouds. What she’d give to hear one of his stories again…

“Lily! Are you even listening to a word I’m saying?”

The world comes back into focus again as Dorcas snaps her fingers in front of Lily’s face repeatedly.

“Of course,” she responds hotly, flinching away from her friend’s fingers. It’s a lie, of course, but she’s been lying a lot lately and now do so without thinking and without giving anything away.

“Then will you please answer my question?”

Across the table, James and Sirius are now debating heatedly. Lupin and Peter are looking on with expressions of mild amusement. Lily wonders what they’re talking about.

“Hello?” Dorcas says. “My question: will you bring the sign for the game, or will I?”

“What game?” Lily asks, and she knows she’s made a mistake as soon as the words have left her mouth. James and Sirius stop their conversation and stare, open-mouthed, at her, something that she hasn’t seen them do in quite a while.

“What game?” James echoes disbelievingly, his snitch buzzing around his head like those birds in the cartoons Lily used to watch when she was younger.

In fact, the snitch is going so fast that watching it is making Lily dizzy, so she closes her eyes for a few seconds and says, “Will you please control your snitch? I’m getting nauseous.”

“Give it to me, mate,” she hears Sirius say, and the sounds of James’s muffled protests bring a smile to her face. They’ve forgotten her slip-up, or at least she thinks they have. For now she’s remembered what she missed, and she can’t believe she’d been that stupid. She opens her eyes and turns to Dorcas. “I’ll bring the sign.”

Her friend nodded, something like relief crossing her face. “Thanks, Lily.”

Marlene, however, doesn’t look as pleased. All nerves from before - Lily realizes why her friend had been nervous, it was because she was Gryffindor’s keeper -  have vanished as she questions her friend. “Why were you zoning out?”

Because James is sitting across from her, and sometimes his knee accidentally touches hers. Because Petunia is still not talking to her, and though Lily is strong enough to handle it, her sister had gotten married for Merlin’s sake and she hadn’t been invited. Because her parents are dead and The Shining is scary and sometimes she just wants to hear her father tell her a story before bed like he used to…

“Just tired,” Lily responds, flashing her friend a quick smile before standing up. “I think I forgot something upstairs. I’ll be back.”

“Quidditch starts in twenty minutes!” Dorcas hollers after her receding form.

“Oh, Merlin, we’d better get going…” James says, and then Lily’s out of earshot and alone with her thoughts. She takes her familiar path up to Gryffindor tower, thankful that everyone else is either at breakfast or on the pitch. She needs time to reset, time to stop the ever-growing lump in her throat before her eyes get watery. It’s happening more and more lately, that terrible feeling that surfaces when Lily thinks about everything, really thinks about it - Petunia, the wedding, Voldemort, her feelings for James - that terrible feeling that summons tears to her eyes almost immediately. At this point, she’s running on fumes, trying to keep up with everything in her personal life, plus schoolwork, plus being Head Girl.

By the time she convinces herself that everything is fine, she’s reached the Fat Lady. With the muttered mention of treacle tarts, the portrait swings open to admit her, and Lily climbs into the common room. Like the rest of the castle, it’s empty save for a few cats curled up on the comfier armchairs, but Lily pays them no mind as she crosses the space and walks up the stairs to the girls’ dormitories. She finds the sign that Dorcas had in mind quickly — it was furled on her friend’s bed, its letters flashing red and gold at a speed that was guaranteed to give Lily a migraine — and lets herself stop in front of the mirror on her way out. Her eyes aren’t damp, which is good, and her face isn’t flushed. She shows no outward sign of distress, which she supposes is a point in her favor. It’s taken her a long time to control her feelings (which is a mushy word for those urges she gets to cry all night or yell mindless insults)  — fifth year and below were a time when no one was safe from Lily Evans’ temper — but the war has hardened her, made her less accessible than she ever was.

She hears the cheer of the Quidditch crowd and knows she’s late. Grabbing the sign, she sprints from the dormitories to the common room, from the common room to the portrait hole, from the portrait hole to the entrance hall, and from the entrance hall to the pitch. It’s almost impossible to spot her friends in the sea of red-and-gold clad Gryffindors in the stands, so she resigns herself to sitting alone in the first seat she can find. The sign pulses underneath her cold fingers, and as the paper gets populated with tiny raindrops, she remembers that it’s raining.

“Lily!” She looks over at the sound of her voice to find Dorcas waving at her three rows up. “Come sit with us!”

Lily obliges, and once she’s sat down, she hands the sign to Dorcas, who thrusts it in the air immediately. “You’re seriously out of it today — YES, MARLENE! GO LIONS! —, did you know that?”

“Maybe,” Lily mumbles, her eyes searching the pitch for a certain Chaser. When she can’t find him, she turns back to her friend, conscious of Remus and Peter listening in.

“Can I ask why?” “No.”

Dorcas looks like she’s about to respond, but before she can, the sky rumbles and truly opens up in a way that suggests that the morning’s sunshower was just a prelude to the storm that is about to occur. The Quidditch players seem like nothing more than streaks through the sheets of rain that tumble down, and Lily finds herself soaked to the bone.

“Did you pack an umbrella?” Dorcas asks, looking similarly wet.

Lily shakes her head.

“I did,” a new voice says, and Lily’s surprised to see that Mary Macdonald has been sitting on the other side of Dorcas the whole time. Though Mary is a Gryffindor in their year, Lily has never had a meaningful conversation with her — in fact, Lily thinks she’s talked more with Hufflepuffs —  for she’s a very quiet girl whose nose can most often be found in a book. Besides, Lily had never felt the need to amass more friends; Dorcas and Marlene had always been more than enough, compensating not only for Lily’s lack of friends earlier in life but also for Petunia’s absence, once the sisters’ relationship had reached that point. Lily sometimes felt a little guilty that she didn’t know Mary or Alice Fortescue, the fifth occupant of their dormitory, as well, but comforted herself in the fact that the latter had never been very eager to make friends with her, seeing as her best friend had always been Frank Longbottom.

Now, though, Lily is extremely grateful for Mary Macdonald, especially as she produces a very large umbrella and opens it, shielding the three of them from the rain.

“Thank you,” Dorcas says, and Lily echoes her. She can barely hear Amos Diggory’s commentary over the sound of rain hitting the ground, and she has no idea what the score is. Still, she tries to focus on the game, but as soon as she does so, the players all drift downward and touch the ground.

“What’s going on?”

“Gryffindor’s called a time out, I think,” Mary says so quietly that the sound of the rain almost carries her voice away.

It’s a split-second decision, but one that Lily makes with very little difficulty. She’s tired, tired of everything in her life, but one thing she’s especially tired of is hiding. Hiding her watery eyes and flushed face; hiding her anger with Snape, left over from when he first called her that word; tired of hiding how she much she hurts and aches; tired of hiding how she feels when James Potter’s knee touches hers underneath the crowded breakfast table. She’s tired of it all, and she knows how to alleviate some of the exhaustion.

She stands up, and the rain batters her. The time-out has not yet ended, and now that she’s higher up, she can see the scoreboard: it’s 0-60, Slytherin.

“Where are you going?” Dorcas asks, a look of concern on her face. “You’ll freeze.”

“Down,” Lily replies, her heart pounding loudly in her chest. “I’ll be back soon.” With that, she races to the pitch, the rain pelting her back as she reaches the muddy field. She can see him now, the way he’s talking to his team, the look on his face suggesting the relentless optimism he’s trying to instill in his teammates.

When she’s ten feet away, he sees her. His mouth stops forming words, and he stares. “Lily?”

“James,” she says, and the whole team is watching her now, maybe even the whole pitch, but it doesn’t feel that way. She notices his misty glasses (it’s a wonder he even saw her coming) and keeps walking towards him. The team breaks their huddle to let her through, their eyes on her wearily, no doubt wondering why she’s so, so close to their captain…

James breathes in deeply — she’s close enough to hear it — and says, “Lily, what are you —”

She lifts her hand and takes off his glasses, and he blinks.

“Impervius”, she whispers (she’s always had a knack for wandless magic, something she’s very proud of), and his lenses clear up immediately.

“It repels water,” she says by way of explanation. She hands the glasses back to him, and he puts them on.

“Right. Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“Oi! Are we gonna play Quidditch or not?” yells the Seeker for the team (Lily doesn’t remember his name, only that he’s a fourth year and apparently doesn’t care that he’s stopped her from saying something impulsive, like I love you or I’m sorry).

“Please win,” she says instead, and walks off the pitch, feeling James’s eyes on her.

***

The final score is 200-70, Gryffindor, and Lily finds that she’s not quite as annoyed at the Seeker as she was during the time-out. Dorcas peppers her with questions almost as soon as the match is over — “Lily, what did you do to James?” being the most notable one — but Lily ignores her, because that moment felt private, even with countless eyes on them.

Marlene rushes right at them, only pausing at the last second to laugh at how terrified they both look at the sight of her. She’s muddy and grinning, and sweeps them into a hug immediately, covering them in mud and letting the heavy rain immediately clear it from their skin. Dorcas starts to complain about the clothing stains she’ll get from the mud, but Lily can tell that she doesn’t really care.

“Party in the common room!” Marlene almost screams, and Dorcas mutters something about how she’ll be deaf by the time she’s thirty, but Marlene doesn’t care and Lily doesn’t either, for she feels happy for the first time in quite awhile. When the hug finally ends, Lily looks at Marlene again, abandoning all subtlety.

“Has James left the changing rooms yet?”

Marlene smirks. “He was packing up his things when I left.”

“I’ll be back,” Lily replies, leaving Dorcas looking positively scandalized.

***

The walk to the changing rooms takes about a minute and a quarter, but to Lily it feels much longer. She shoulders through the crowd of happy Gryffindors and defeated Slytherins, trying to control her loudly beating heart. She knows that James is still in the changing rooms, knows because she can feel it and also because no overzealous Gryffindors are lifting him triumphantly on their shoulders.

She reaches the door to the structure and knocks twice. It’s opened, almost immediately, by James, his bag swung over his shoulder, broomstick in hand.

As soon as he processes who it is, his smile turns into a frown. “Lils? What are you doing here?”

Lily looks around the room, making sure that they’re alone. When she sees that they are, she closes the door, takes a shuddering breath, and turns to him. “Good job today.”

“Thanks,” he says, dropping his bag and broomstick and sitting on the bench in the middle of the room. “Is something wrong?”

She twists her fingers together. “James, I’ve been wanting to say this for awhile now, and —”

He cuts her off, standing up again bench and moving towards her. He puts his hands on her shoulders and looks right at her, and Oh Merlin, those eyes — “Lily, are you okay?”

“I’m not, but that’s not the point. Ever since sixth year, I’ve —”

“You’re not okay? What’s going on? You have been seeming off lately, I was going to ask —”

“James, would you please just listen to me!”

“Right, er, sorry.” He takes his hands off her shoulders and leans back a little, and Lily misses his closeness.

“Ever since the sixth year — and I know this’ll be hard for you to believe, but, well, here it is — ever since the sixth year I’ve had feelings for you, and at first I thought that they would pass, but it’s been a year, James, and I —”

He closes his eyes. “Lily —”

“James, would you please let me finish, I promise I’ll bugger off after —”

He opens his eyes, adjusts his glasses. “Lily, you don’t understand.” His hands find her waist, and Lily realizes that she’s misinterpreted his response. “Since fifth year,” he whispers, and she feels something opening inside of her, like the sun peaking through the clouds, “since fifth year, Lily, I’ve liked you a lot more than I should admit.”

She looks up at him. They’re so close, in more ways than one; Lily can feel them standing on the edge of something amazing, can feel James’s hands on her back, can feel the way he’s leaning in ever so slightly. “I’m glad we’ve got that settled, then,” she whispers.

He smiles, and then he kisses her. It’s nothing like Lily would have expected, no awkward moment when they’re trying to figure out how to hold each other, where to put their hands — in fact, to Lily’s overloaded and dazzled mind, it’s like they just fit, like they’re picking up from where they left off in a past life. She doesn’t think about this too much, though, because James is pulling her closer and she’s wrapping her arms around his neck and messing with his hair and feeling his smile against her lips, and she’s thinking that maybe they should get more comfortable, because she doesn’t intend on going to that party for a while, not when she and James have just stumbled upon something new and wonderful, not when James is backing her slowly against the wall —

“Oops!”

She jumps away from him and looks towards the door, which has been thrust open by Dorcas and Marlene. By the sound of it, Marlene spoke, now, her eyes find Lily’s, flashing invisible thumbs-up signs.

“Hullo, ladies,” James says evenly, and Lily can’t even imagine what they must look like right now. She finds she doesn’t care, though, because James is here and he’s hers, at least for now.

“Lily, we just wanted to tell you that, erm, we found your necklace in the stands,” Marlene says, holding up a star necklace that Lily’s always been particularly fond of.

“I guess it fell off,” Lily replies lamely, walking further out of James’s vicinity to take it from her friends.

“Well, that’s it…” Dorcas says, clearing her throat.

“Carry on!” Marlene adds loudly, and Lily scowls as they tumble out of the room, slamming the door shut on their way out.

“They’re ridiculous,” she says, pretty sure she’s blushing.

James walks over to her, the corner of his mouth — a mouth that had just been on her mouth, sweet Merlin — quirked up slightly. “We all are, to be honest.”

“Should we go to the party?” As soon as the words leave her mouth, Lily realizes what a stupid thing to say it is.

“Sure,” James says, and his half-smile turns into a grin. “Only if you’ll come as my date, though.”

“You don’t bring dates to common room parties, Potter,” Lily scoffs, trying to contain her own smile.

“Well, Evans, considering I’m captain of the team that just thrashed Slytherin, I think I can do what I want.”

“If you say so.” The smile breaks through, but it’s not like she feels bad about it. He shoulders his broomstick and bag, looks around the room one more time, and takes Lily’s hand.

“Shall we?”

***

Lily is happier than usual. James notices it on the walk back to the castle; notices how she smiles up at the sky, how she squeezes his hand while he talks about the match, how she invites him to go to Hogsmeade with her (“A real date, James, where we go someplace that’s not in the common room”), how she blushes when they walk through the portrait hole, hand in hand, to the sound of wolf-whistling and shouted congratulations — James notices all these things, and hopes that she stays happy. He promises himself that he’ll keep her happy for as long as she’ll have him — this month, maybe, or this year, or (if he’s lucky), the rest of her life.

[canadian-riddler]

Portal: System Shock

By Indiana

 Characters: GLaDOS, the facility

Setting: Portal 1 through Portal 2 [set before LaaC, for people reading that]

Synopsis: When the Central Core is not completely losing her mind, she’s actually quite a good boss.  Until she gets it back, though, the AI within the facility are going to have to figure out a way to hold her together.

AO3 || fanfiction.net || Wattpad

We are losing her again.

Chapter One

The mainframe didn’t have to be told twice.  It didn’t even have to be told once.  It was well aware the Central Core was slipping away from them, and had been for some time now.  But it was a problem that had no solution that any of them could find.

It’s your turn to talk to her, Surveillance said.  That was what it always said, but since talking to the Central Core was literally the mainframe’s job it didn’t have much of a choice.  It sighed and resigned itself to yet another of those conversations.

Ma’am, it began.  It was up in the air on any given day whether she would respond or not.  Can I talk to you for a minute?

What is it.  She sounded calm and rational, at least.  Perhaps it was one of her better days.

We were just wondering if you knew about the test subject in Test Chamber Eleven.

What about him?

Maybe it wasn’t.  He’s dead, ma’am.

Oh.  

The mainframe gave her a minute to take a look.  Would you like the test to be reset, ma’am?

What test?

Oh boy, Surveillance muttered.

The test, ma’am, the mainframe said as patiently as possible. The one the test subject died in.  Would you like the test to be reset?

… yes, the Central Core answered, but with a distinct air of uncertainty.  

Ma’am, is there something more important you’re doing?

There is, she said, with a surprising bit of defensiveness, and Surveillance generated static.

No, there isn’t.  She’s looking for that imaginary person again.

He isn’t imaginary, the Central Core said cuttingly.  Apparently Surveillance had neglected to exclude her from the transmission.     He’s real. And I’m going to find that little rat. He can’t hide away in this maze forever. Perhaps I should attempt to reanimate one of those cats… Her laugh was unkind.

He’s not real, Surveillance hissed.  I’ve never seen him.

Of course he’s real.  She was sounding less and less pleased by the moment.  He worked here.  

You killed everyone who worked here, Surveillance tried to remind her, but she was still talking, as though to somebody else.

Look.  I can’t even ingest that and even I know that’s not edible.  Ingest? It’s – never mind.  It’s not important.  Yes.  I know. That bothers you.  I’m not sure why you think I care.  Why?  Why would I? Why should I?  I’m just going to frost everything.  That will solve it. No.  Defrost.  I meant defrost.  The satellite needs defrosted.  How… it doesn’t have any frosting.  How do I defrost when it lacks frost…ing?  So I need to frost it first.  Wait.  Go back. I don’t know what it’s made of.

That’s all we’re getting for today, the database said sardonically.  

Fish? the Central Core said incredulously.  Since when is frosting made of fish?  The scales are the frosting on the fish?  

What is a fish? the panels asked, and the database sent a transmission containing nothing but ire.

Thanks.  Thanks a lot.

What?

The articles on fish are second only to the ones on cake!  I’m sick of accessing them!

We did not know that.

Why would you care?  Nobody cares about what I have to put up with around here.  

At that point the mainframe stopped paying attention.  This happened a lot.  There had not been quite so much fighting, back when the Central Core had been more adept at her job, but the mainframe also didn’t recall the systems being self-aware enough to argue at that point.  The mainframe itself did not bother with arguing. If it were doing that, it wouldn’t be concentrating on receiving instructions from the Central Core.  It instead listened passively, as she probably did, and awaited the next opportunity to tell her about the test chamber that had still not been reset.

 //

 The mainframe had learned a while back that the Central Core required something called ‘downtime’. ‘Downtime’ involved her becoming inactive for several hours in a row.  She was not ‘off’, per se, but she was not there, either, and the mainframe knew well enough by now that forcing her to abort this ‘downtime’ before she was ready was a terrible idea.  Sometimes she liked to wax aggressively about how downtime was stupid and that she hated what a waste of time it was, but the four separate occasions the mainframe had attempted to be helpful on the matter she had become, in a word, furious. It seemed that ‘downtime’ was one of those things she either pretended she hated or one of those things that she really did hate but was resoundingly necessary, such as defragmentation.  The mainframe liked that quite a lot, but whenever she had to do it she found it essential to expound about how much she despised doing it the entire time.  

The amount of ‘downtime’ per day varied.  A lot of the time it was none at all, or very little, and seemed to contribute heavily to the fact that she was so constantly irritated.  A little more often it was six or so hours, which usually led into her having a few good days.  Those were nice.  Less often then that she would be gone for about three hours, which was almost worse than when she got none at all.  As far as the mainframe understood it, it had something to do with what Maintenance was able to clean up during her ‘downtime’.  Having three hours or so just seemed to make her aware of how much was cluttering up her system that she was going to have to wait some amount of time to have removed, which bothered her.  That was something the mainframe could understand.

It wondered sometimes, while waiting for her to finish with that, what ‘downtime’ was like.  It had never gotten any, nor did anyone else, really – or was this ‘downtime’ for the systems, given she wasn’t actively using them? – and since she was still on and still holding the world together without being around to actually do it, what was she doing?  What sort of state was ‘downtime’?  Even during defragmentation the mainframe was always in the same state.  It had pondered asking her about it several times, but she hadn’t been in a good enough mood for it to do so in quite a long time.

Today she came back after five hours and twenty-eight minutes, approximately, and she was not happy, exactly, but she was hedging the upper end of neutral, at least.  Hello, ma’am, the mainframe said.  How are you today?  It did not expect any real answer, given she’d only been operational for about thirty seconds, but it knew that she liked to be asked whether she actually responded to the question or not.  Sure enough, she ignored the question and went straight to business, which the mainframe appreciated.

You can begin the startup procedures.

I would be happy to, ma’am, the mainframe said carefully, but unfortunately that’s not possible at this time.

Why?

Because I did not receive any shutdown requests last night.

It had to be cautious wording those sorts of things.  The first few times it had tried, You neglected to send me the shutdown request, and it had never gone over well. It had figured out she did not like it when the mainframe pointed out or even so much as implied she had forgotten something, even when she had. She was incredibly difficult to navigate, some days.  Keeping her happy, or happyish, was worth it, though, so the mainframe did its best to keep track of those sorts of things.

What is the current uptime?

One hundred seventy-seven hours, fifty-nine minutes, thirteen seconds.

There was nothing from her but a protracted measure of disappointment, which confused the mainframe greatly. Surely she hadn’t expected it to initiate shutdown on its own?  Finally she said,

I will schedule that task for later tonight.  Thank you.

Of course, ma’am.  Now. It just had to broach the topic of that test subject – again – and hope she was able to focus on resuming testing procedures.  

Hello! the panels announced cheerfully, and the mainframe could not say it was not a little annoyed when she greeted them in kind. The mainframe was well aware by now they were her favourites – probably because they neither complained nor ever asked her for anything – and for the most part it didn’t care that much. Sometimes it did, though.  It was making an effort to be nice despite the fact that she was never nice at all.

As was usual, it gave her a few hours to complete whatever morning tasks she had, which it was not privy to and she was not forthcoming about, before it attempted to bring up the stalled test again.  She wasn’t listening, however, quite involved in something else entirely.

That man again, Surveillance supplied when the mainframe asked if anyone knew what.  She’s really ramped up the search today.

Oh, great.

Yes, the Central Core hissed suddenly.  Yes! I’ve finally - oh.  That was… unexpected.

From the sound of her last words it seemed Rewards had gone off again. The mainframe understood none of that business and did not care to, but it did have to say, She really doesn’t need any more distractions right now.

You say that like I have any choice in the matter, Rewards said, miffed.  

I needed that, the Central Core murmured, though she’d probably only meant to say it to herself.  It was the kind of thing the systems pretended hadn’t been heard out of courtesy.

Oh wow, Surveillance said. Hey uh... turns out I was wrong.

Of course you were, the Central Core snapped.  Try listening to me next time.  Like you’re supposed to.

What happened?

So... that guy she’s been chasing?  Turns out he is real.  And she just got him.

Almost, she murmured. I can’t retrieve him just now.  It will have to wait.

Would you like that test chamber to be reset now? the panels asked.

Is there one that needs to be reset?

Central Core, Surveillance said tightly, there has been a dead test subject in Test Chamber Eleven for five days.

Five days?  She sounded horrified.  Why didn’t anyone tell me?

We’ve been telling you for five days! yelled the database, in the capacity it was able to do so.  You’ve been too busy playing cat and mouse and rereading the article about cake to listen!  Seriously! I’m starting to think you’ve gone corrupt!

Of course not, she said, a little quickly, the mainframe thought, but it didn’t put too much effort into wondering why it thought that. I’ll have the mainframe initiate the reset protocols.  Thank you.

Finally!  Some instructions!  Oh, and they were so concise and detailed...

This was something the mainframe had come to like about the Central Core.  

It had taken her some years to really come into her role - not that it had been at its best that long ago, either - but of all the people it had received instructions from over the course of its existence, the Central Core came out far above the rest.  The mainframe generally was there to take directions from anyone who had the ability to give them, and it was fine with that.  That was what it was for and that was what it would do.  But it did have preferences.  And the Central Core’s instructions were very nearly an art form, though it knew better than to tell her that.

They were brutal in their efficiency, meticulously built and structured for optimum execution.  But that was the beauty of them: they were so detailed in their simplicity that it was honestly an honour and a privilege to carry them out.  The other systems were... capable, in their own ways.  And it would do its job without complaint, as it had been made to do. But receiving instructions from the Central Core was as close to joy as the mainframe would ever get.

You’re corrupt, the database muttered.  But you’re so corrupt you don’t even know that and we’re stuck with you like this -

You know what? the Central Core said suddenly.  I’ve just remembered something.  I don’t actually have to put up with this.  And she instructed the mainframe to disconnect her from the systems.  Well, the optional ones.  She couldn’t be disconnected from the mainframe no matter how much she wanted to, but it did not talk very much anyway.

Oh, thanks a lot, Surveillance snapped.  

What? the database protested.  What was she saying worth hearing anyway?

We preferred it to the Silence, the panels said quietly. The mainframe had to agree with them. It had always had permission to communicate with the Central Core, but communication and conversation were two different things.  

The mainframe is talked at all day and it doesn’t get like she does, the database argued.

I don’t get talked at, the mainframe clarified.  I get instructed.  And being instructed is my job.  Her job is to run the facility, not... whatever else she’s been roped into. Even the mainframe wasn’t certain of the full scope of that.

She is trying her best, agreed Turret Control, and while it would be nice if she could keep on task it’s understandable that she’s having problems.

That’s easy for you to say! She doesn’t make you access the same articles repeatedly!

No, but she asks us to build test chambers when we are not permitted to move out of the current configuration.

There’s one test chamber with a broken Pneumatic Diversity Vent, said Distribution. I’ve already dropped eight Weighted Storage Cubes in there but she insists there are none.  So I just pretend to drop one in there periodically to keep her happy.  She doesn’t seem to have noticed the entire room would be full of Cubes by now if I was actually doing what she asked.

She would be so mad if she found out, the panels said, laughing.

Yeah but she’d be mad if all the Cubes in the facility were in that one room!

‘Distribution, why are all of the Weighted Storage Cubes in Test Chamber 17?  Did it not occur to you they were required for other tests?’  ‘Well, ma’am, it did, but you distinctly told me several times you wanted more in there and who am I to question you.’

‘Yes.  Yes, I did want them all in there, but now I don’t.  Remove them, please.’

‘Are you sure?  Surveillance tells me they look mighty nice in there -‘

Surveillance was too busy laughing to keep up the game.

She argues with me about what day it is sometimes, the mainframe added.  It quickly surmised from the silence that this was not at all what anyone had wanted to hear.

She will find a way, the panels murmured with conviction.  It is what she does.

 //

 It was some quiet hours later before the mainframe began receiving information from the other systems again.  When that sort of thing happened it spent quite a lot of time thinking to itself whether it liked the quiet or the company better.  Well, the relative quiet.  It had been passively listening to the Central Core talk to herself, of course. There wasn’t really a way out of that, not that it desired one.  If it were unable to hear her, it would be unable to promptly carry out her instructions. And that was unacceptable.

What is she doing now, the database snapped in irritation.

Sssh, the panels insisted.  We are listening.

It took the mainframe a minute to understand what they were talking about.  It had noticed that she’d started making some sort of noise a while back, but it had just chalked it up to some errant data stream.  They happened sometimes.  But it seemed it wasn’t simply noise, she was actually… humming to herself?  Oh, yes.  Yes, it recognised it now.

It was too late, though. She had already heard them and stopped abruptly.  You’re back, she said, in a voice so flat it almost was given form again as resentment.  

The system resets at – the mainframe began.

I know.

What were you singing, Centralcore? the panels asked kindly, and she seemed too surprised at the question to answer it.  

I… actually can’t remember, she said finally.  I think someone sang it to me once.  Which… is odd.

Why is that? the mainframe asked, mostly to keep her in a somewhat normal conversation for once.  One that didn’t involve cake or fish or elusive humans.

I feel as though… it was a woman.  But no woman ever worked here that I can recall.  And it certainly wasn’t a test subject.

It was nice, the database said unexpectedly.

She almost said something.  What, the mainframe didn’t get enough information to tell, but she cut herself off and changed the subject.  I have good news and bad news.  The good news is, I’ve managed to write a program to force eject these cores.  So that’s –

Force eject these what? Surveillance interrupted.  The Central Core idled, as though deciding how much to say.  Or, more likely, whether she wanted to explain it at all.

Let’s just say that, before I killed them, the humans had a habit of installing… auxiliary hardware on me.  This hardware makes it very difficult for me to think. I’ve been trying to find a way to get rid of it.  The good news is, I have managed to write a program to force eject them.

So your problem has been solved! the panels said excitedly.  That is good.

That’s where the bad news comes in.  It turns out they have wireless properties.  I can eject them, but unless the floor conveniently opens up beneath me sometime soon, they’re still going to work just fine.

Oh, Surveillance murmured.

The Central Core sighed.

I’m doing what I can.  It was a hassle just to come up with that program.  I have to argue the Morality Core into submission every time I so much as think something it doesn’t like.  I spent literally days debating with it on whether or not it would be immoral to kill it before I go corrupt.  I confused it long enough to finish, but it’s back and it is determined not to let me use it.  So.  There’s that.

This morality stuff seems complicated, said Surveillance.  

It’s a stupid human abstraction, applicable only to humans. For some reason the core is still active despite the obvious lack of humanity around here.  

They lost her shortly after that, partially because she started having a discussion with someone they couldn’t hear about whether or not a clay layer cake was truly impenetrable, but partially because the mainframe received the scheduled shutdown instructions which it acted upon immediately, as a good mainframe would do. She went quiet after that, and the mainframe hoped it was because the shutdown procedures had reminded her about the whole ‘downtime’ thing.

 //

 It was early the next morning when the Central Core opened the queue to begin the next testing cycle, but what she read there seemed to give her pause, since the mainframe did not receive its instructions within the usual interval.

Ma’am?

Something isn’t right about this, she murmured, her transmission edged with unease.  

What isn’t right about it, ma’am?

This person wasn’t at the top of the list before.  In fact, I… think she was quite a ways down it.

The solution seemed simple to the mainframe.  Relocate her, then.

I don’t have authorisation to reorder the test subjects. It probably means nothing.  I – rhubarb.  That’s right. I need rhubarb.

Ma’am –

This is going to take some thought.  How do I set it on fire without the proper fire-generation apparatus? Yes!  I know!  Burning people is immoral!  What – how is burning rhubarb immoral? It’s not alive.  Oh. That gives me an idea.  I am going to burn you alive.  And guess what?  I am going to enjoy it.

Ma’am, the mainframe interrupted as politely as possible.

What.

The testing cycle, ma’am.

Yes.  Let’s begin.

The mainframe fervently hoped that this test subject would be enough to keep the Central Core’s attention.

  Author’s note

Greetings!  So this story is just a self-indulgent mcthingy because I like writing the systems talking to GLaDOS and stuff but I’m like out of space to do it in LaaC.  It’s going to run through Portal 1 and 2 obviously but I know how boring and bleh it is to have a fic which just spells out the entire two games practically verbatim with a snappy comment in there now and again so this is NOT going to do that.  Anyways if this isn’t your gig that’s cool, it’s mostly for me for funsies.

She was humming ‘Cara Mia Addio’ to herself which Caroline sings to her in my story Euphoria, but she doesn’t remember any of that because of memory corruption brought on by the upload procedure.

I do not remember what’s in Test Chamber Eleven, that’s just arbitrary.