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astrobstrd · 1 year

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2022. GAME OF THE YEAR. OK?

Hey folks, season's greetings. Runner-up for most sentimental gamer 2021 here and I got a bug up my ass to write about video games. It's equal parts games that did and didn't release this year. Forgive me for any run-ons or excessive commas, this started as a piece on one game on the list and then became a top 10, then it spiraled out of control a tad as I forced myself to write more. Regardless, I'm happy with it and you can check it out under the read more. Happy holidays!

GUNDAM EVOLUTION

Gundam Evo is so goddamned weird. It’s a great game that I cannot recommend anyone jump into now. I really enjoy the core gameplay loop and what it does versus a game like Overwatch— the dash and boost system serve as a salve to the ever-present hero shooter roll-out problem and offer a little bit of movement unpredictability, the lack of clearly defined roles prevented the game from having a dichotomy of “hard” or “soft” tank and support units, and, generally, I found myself having more fun with it than I could recall having with OG Overwatch at the time. Every time I think about going back, however, I remember that it’s one of the clearest examples in recent memory of a publisher just not really giving a shit about its product.

The game sits at a sub-1k player count on Steam, with no way for people in certain regions of the world to even play the game, the console versions took a full two months after initial release to hit digital storefronts, and there’s no backfill system in any capacity. For a game to have such promise in a world where only one hero shooter really survived the late ‘10s burnout period, then to fizzle out so quickly… it’s just kind of a bummer. I would not be surprised if the game is shuttered by this time next year. Still, the time I spent with it felt immensely satisfying.

FORTNITE

Yeah. I fell in last year, (completely by coincidence, when they put the skanking emote in, if you can believe that, which you shouldn't,) and now that I can play Zero Build, my playtime's only gone up. I've also watched as the remaining capital G-I Games Industry folks I follow, who poked and laughed at the Tower Building Gaming For Children also fall into the exact same hole. So... lmao.

I think as you get older you do look for a few more opportunities to have a common activity that you nor your friends really pay a whole lot of attention to but use as a vehicle to shoot the shit. That's Fortnite. It's like getting drunk at a baseball game in the middle of the day for late millennials. It also has full patch cycles that are genuinely, unabashedly, very fun. We got dirtbikes and gravity hammers and fuckin Doom Slayer now man! It's great!

Oh, and to defend my honor just a little, I've spent a grand total of $14 on it. I caved to buy the Rasputin and Gangnam Style emote. What are you, the IRS? Leave me alone.

SONIC ROBO BLAST KART 2

...henceforth referred to as SRB2K because I'm not typing all of that out again, is not a live service game, and also a mod for Doom. It's (probably) the best Sonic kart racer ever made, and it's all built in a game that has nothing to do with the little blue freak. It feels fantastic to play, and it evokes the same feeling of fuzzy-warm coziness that I got from playing a lot of Skulltag one winter. I spent quite a lot of time in late January and February compiling user created SRB2K mods, hacking together soundpacks for existing characters, and screaming into a microphone as I careened through some of the best and worst maps I've ever played in a racing game.

DEAD BY DAYLIGHT

I pretend to hate this game and sometimes I do.

And now it's time for

Let's find out!

10) Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Shredder’s Revenge

Man, was this a fun surprise! I’ve never been the biggest turtles guy, but I am enough of one to have a favorite that I’ve picked almost entirely on the basis of color and weaponry. (It’s Don, for the record.) I am also enough of a fan of cooperative side-scrolling beat-em-ups that playing this whole game in a little under four hours with a group of friends was a complete blast. I have this weird hang up where I just can’t play these games solo. I think most beat-em-up devs also know that the real meat is in flying through them with a buddy or three or five. (After all, the only way I was ever going to finish Double Dragon: Neon, a game that I love but was definitely not the target market for, was playing it in co-op a year after its release.) That all being said, the fact that TMNT: Shredder’s Revenge allowed for six players at a time is as perfect as it is completely batshit and overwhelming. I’d routinely lose my place altogether as the genuinely fantastic backdrops and battle arenas turned into a flurry of blows and flying footclan bodies, and I simply did not mind.

While my time with it didn’t last long, I couldn’t help but admire the fact there was enough depth in the combos and strategic use of heavy moves, super attacks and thug-juggling technique to potentially make the game worth replaying. This is not even mentioning the genuinely fantastic sprite, level and sound design work. Fast, fun, and punching above its weight class as a title that was free day one on Game Pass, a fact of the gaming landscape that I constantly feel like we’re on the verge of having a reckoning with. Anyway!

9) Rumbleverse

I must preface this blurb with the fact that I have completely fallen off of Rumbleverse and I am genuinely sad I don’t have more to say about it. It’s been probably 3 months since I last fired into Grapital City, but the pull to go back amidst my neuroses and general malaise has been strong. It’s one of the few battle royale games where the insane love for its inspirations and the dedication poured into the game itself both shine right through. From the looser fighting game influence in its move priority and combo systems, to the completely unmistakable wrestling mark DNA, Rumbleverse is authentic and just plain fun. Compared to your bog-standard, shooty-bang-bang battle royale, the hype, guttural-noise-inducing moment ratio is off the fucking charts here, and that’s reason enough for me to include it.

By the way, every now and then I’ll hear people bemoan the fact that there are no melee-focused battle royale games. The fact that this game did not once and for all solve this quandry for people despite being the best implementation of that concept? It makes me want to scream.

8) Marvel Snap

Don’t look at me like that.

I really didn’t expect to like Marvel Snap. I’m not a comic book or superhero movie guy, but it’s amazing what being both free and available on Steam can do for you. Despite starting a little rough and having some growing pains in making decks that I actually wanted to use, the game of Snap itself is undeniably fun and incredibly easy to fall into. As of the time of writing this, I’m collection level 593 and I can no longer deny that I’m just playing it for giggles. This is the game that the certain-Blizzard-card-game-playing-me of 2017 wanted and just didn’t realize. Despite the whale bait in this very obviously mobile card game being clear and evident, and the fact that there is no way to assuredly get cards you want before level 500, I still somehow feel like this is the one online CCG I’ve seen that treats you with some modicum of respect... so long as you pace yourself and play in chunks. The quick nature of Snap, of course, isn’t really conducive to this, but you really just have to chalk that one up to terrible, awful, no-good, very bad mammalian reward responses.

I know the one thing that people just cannot shut up about is the game’s brevity, but it really is important to herald. As someone who’s played half-hour Hearthstone matches, it’s an undeniable factor in its continued popularity. After a particularly rough two days in late November where I kept snapping and kept playing despite losing six(!) ranks, I remembered an extremely salient realization I had while falling out of love with MOBAs a few years ago— if it sucks bad enough, you can leave. You can hit da bricks, so to speak, if you’re not making anyone else suffer as a result of it. If you’ve put a handful of your chips on black the last six spins and lost every time, it's okay to walk away from the goddamn table.

Latent gambling impulses aside, Snap is undeniably fantastic, and not even the only card game I’ve been playing this year.

7) Downfall: Slay The Spire

I’ve played a lot of Slay The Spire. It’s probably not even a fraction as much as the truly dedicated card gaming wizards that I’ll occasionally see screenshots from on the Community Hub, but damn, I love that game. Slay The Spire also came to me in a weird time; I was knee deep in my graveyard shift job at a gas station and spent my evenings, (7AM-11AM on any given day,) trying DESPERATELY to find a game that didn’t require too much of me but was still engaging enough to play between smoking pot, drinking, doing laundry, or all three. I bought the game on a whim, knowing only that it was a rogueli(k)(t)e and a card game, then fell ass over end into a Spire shaped hole.

Downfall: Slay The Spire is a lovingly crafted mod that pretty much just serves as an excuse to get me to play even more of this damn game. From the incredibly well-translated boss characters to the Hermit’s ability to pass as a character that Mega Crit would’ve made themselves, Downfall is fantastic. It could easily pass as an officially released expansion, and it's something I’ve already lauded over in the Steam Reviews for it

6) HYPER DEMON

This shit is bananas, man. I loved Devil Daggers so, so much, and despite still being squarely stuck 50 seconds away from the Devil Dagger, I swear I will get it before I shuffle off this mortal coil. And you’re gonna give me another lofty goal to strive for in a completely different game 6 years later? Fuck you m4tt. I love you m4tt.

I’ve played 3 ½ hours of HYPER DEMON so far. It was all in one sitting. I was amazed I didn’t forget to breathe during all of those 210 minutes. It’s the exact same all-consuming, focus demanding immersion that Devil Daggers ensnared me with in 2016. It’s Devil Daggers: Puzzle Fighter. It’s a cocktail of cosmic horror, Windows Media Player visualizer, Quake 3 montage over-editing, what I imagine the visual sensation of DMT looks like, and pure, unfettered skill-based FPS ecstasy. HYPER DEMON holds you to the sanding belt of its incomprehensible blazing-fast iridescent horrorscape and is unfeeling to whether you can handle it or not. I want more.

I need to play more. I will be playing more. I live to serve SORATH.

5) Super Mario 64 — B3313

I have never completed Super Mario 64. In fact, to my recollection, I never actually owned a copy of it despite having an N64 around the time of its release. I did, however, play an awful lot of this Super Mario 64 romhack in January. It has stuck with me ever since.

In second? grade I’d pass the controller at my best friend's house, as each of us desperately tried to clinch the red coin star in Lethal Lava Land or not tumble off Cool, Cool Mountain. In my teens I’d boot up an emulated copy through Project64 and try, to my behest, to play a game that paled in comparison to the breadth of experiences I’d already had with, at the time, recently released games. (Of course, when your high watermark is something like Garry’s Mod with workshop support or Just Cause 2, anything else feels like hoop and stick.) Even still, I appreciated what Mario 64 meant at both of these stages of my life, for one reason or another. Now, as an adult who claims to have a pretty good understanding of video gaming history, that respect has only deepened.

As a kid, I could recall broad strokes of the in-game world when I was away from the Mario Sanctioned Zone of my best friend’s house. The general layout of the first floor of Peach’s Castle, the first Bowser stage, the royal slide, as well as strange fragments of the hub world architecture scattered through my brainspace. In the days after a hang-out or sleepover, I’d devise ways to get around stages in my head, but SM64 never stuck in my craw for long amounts of time. Yet, I still had moments where it was forced back into my consciousness.

During a particularly shitty bout with the flu when I was about seven, my child brain conjured up visions of a castle that… sort of existed. In between retching up anything that wasn't saltines and soup, half-watched segments of Nickelodeon’s Games and Sports channel, and confronting the sickly taste of bile and lemon-lime Gatorade, I’d pass in and out of dreams, seeing feverish facsimiles of Mario 64. Strange floating voids that might’ve resembled a run-up to Bowser, Tick-Tock-Clocks that didn’t seem to match up with what was on the cartridge, and impossibly long hallways that bled into one another.

I had a passing knowledge of the “every copy of SM64 is personalized” “meme” before playing B3313, and saw increasingly convoluted icebergs and the Wario Apparition, (something that thankfully doesn’t show up in this romhack,) as laughably goofy addendums to already lame gaming creepypastas. The general idea of this hack, despite being fueled by this mix of amateur horror, is something still so genuinely fascinating to me. It's not even really the concept of a game with a “personalization AI,” but moreso the idea of imperfect memory. Things might be changing without any input from some spooky and malicious entity pulling the strings, you just can't remember what these places looked like. Those who are as equally fascinated with B3313 as I am use that term— “fever dream.” They use it liberally when talking about the general feel of the romhack, while also mentioning that at some point during their childhood, they would also have dreams about parts of Mario 64 that didn’t exist, or were slightly off. As one of those people, B3313 nails that exact feeling one-hundred percent.

Super Mario 64: B3313 is a fever dream come true. It’s a slurry of beta, demo-build and original content that bleeds into areas from the retail copy of Super Mario 64. Despite its brief, eyeroll-worthy, yet awkwardly fitting brushes with metatextual horror writing, (enter this cave if you want to see your deepest fears unfold!!!!!!!!!,) the main conceit of this strange, alternate-history beta-dump Mario romhack still hits like a guided missile to my brain. The seldom-played yet still familiar memories of Peach's Castle turn from a welcoming environment into an LSD: the Dream Emulator-esque maze of doors to entirely different castles, alternate versions of existing Mario worlds, densely foggy ominous hallways, and harshly inhuman architecture. It’s bizarre, surprisingly unsettling and manages to evoke a sense of familiar unfamiliarity.

B3313, Wet Dry World’s Negative Emotional Aura and the Personalized Copy concepts are at a bizarrely interesting confluence of childhood imagination, video game folklore, niche meme culture, and, most importantly to me, the impermanence of memory. It already feels like decades ago that we were telling people that, no, Nelson Mandela did not die in prison, the Berenstain bears’ surname was just being misremembered, and, uh, that Taco Bell never had “medium” sauce, but there’s something weirdly different about the foggy, self-aware recollection of sections from Peach’s Castle that never actually existed. There’s an unspoken understanding in YouTube comment sections and other circles versed with B3313 that none of this is, y’know, for real. It’s all gotten a bit tongue and cheek and suffocatingly ironic now, and while some would consider this a horrible breaching of kayfabe, I see it as a necessity to prevent B3313 and other experiences like it from becoming deeply lame, reminiscent of the early days of extremely self-serious YouTube ARGs.

There’s a seal that you break at some point if you came up playing video games. It’s the realization that everything in the game you’re currently playing is there on the disc. Emotion engines and curated experiences cannot magically conjure a completely unique experience specifically for you. With digital games, automatic updates, and the increasing capabilities of neural networks and AI, this becomes a harder point to make, but we’re not quite to the point where games can just generate new assets out of thin air. New content speeds through pipelines for still-alive service games, patch notes get nailed to the theoretical doors of your chosen Gaming Chapel, yet ghosts do not haunt hardware. There is no “personalization AI” present in a two-decade old N64 rom, and with how fast information travels and the fact that leaking video game news and secrets is basically a goddamned industry now, most games don’t get to keep their secrets for long, no matter how much I may want them to.

As you do with the childhood loss of innocence, you learn to eventually understand and cope with the feeling that games are not infinite dream machines made for you and you alone. However, you inevitably replace that malaise and disappointment with the fact that these collections of data and if-then statements still have so, so much to share with you. Experiences like B3313 come along from time to time to serve as a haunting reminder, though. This romhack is a transmission from a moderately different yet hauntingly similar reality that threatens to plunge you back into the depths of childlike mystique, wonder, and, funnily enough, horror, but with your current adult understanding and awareness. It’s equally as enticing as it is terrifying.

I know part of it is just getting older, not having enough space in your head for everything, and generally just "recording over" less important events in your life, but I've realized in the last few years that I don't remember parts of my childhood. I'm not talking year long spans or anything like that, but traumatic experiences that my brain has blotted out, or lengths of time that I just used to remember very succinctly. I don't think my childhood was any more or less extraordinary than anyone else's, probably on the "less" side of that spectrum, actually, but… it just feels weird. In finding old TV show uploads and reliving games from that time period, I feel like I've been trying to piece it back together or convince myself that I shouldn't. I think this romhack, in its own way, helped me cope with a little bit of that.

Playing B3313 is tasting honey lemon cough drops as I sweat into my childhood bedsheets, drifting in and out of tenuous sleep in my dark bedroom in the middle of the day. In its own weird way, it’s beautiful.

4) Hitman: World of Assassination

Thanks for sticking with me through that.

Up until recently, I always felt like an outsider when I said I was a fan of the Hitman games. I loved Blood Money when I was at the ripe old age of 10, and loved watching Tom Bowen’s “How Not To Play Hitman” series slightly more than actually playing it. I did end up finishing Blood Money, eventually moving onto Silent Assassin and, for some reason, Codename 47. I could not finish the first, nor stomach the latter, and it always made me feel like… a poser, I guess? They were pretty “hardcore” games at the time, known for stringent stealth and detection mechanics, and looking at forum posts and videos at the time it felt like I wasn’t getting The Full Experience by not being a bad enough dude to play them, let alone get Silent Assassin ranks. The World of Assassination trilogy has blown that locked door off the fucking hinges for me.

The three newest Hitman games are wonderful romps. As someone who’s been following Giant Bomb for a decade and loved their Hitman coverage and content, it feels like I’m just copying their homework here, but oh well. From throwing homing briefcases and walking around as a clown with a WA2000, to actually seeing the bald beauty's story wrap in the third chapter, Hitman asks you to take these games as seriously as you can. While you’re still definitely Agent 47, (nom de guerre, Tobias Rieper,) and still definitely going through an actually pretty good plot thrust in between garroting sociopathic billionaires, you are given carte blanche to steal so many clothes, chuck so many wrenches and empty as much lead into bystanders as possible with very little restriction. It's this distinction that I feel makes stuff like World of Assasination and, in my opinion, the Dead Rising series work. Comedy is often a hard thing to do in games, and I feel it's best left up to player expression and interpretation in most cases.

Whenever possible, I WILL go for alert-less stealth runs in any game where it's possible, and I killed hours meticulously reloading checkpoints, or missions wholesale, in the World Of Assassination trilogy back in February just to get Silent Assassin. But I also had plenty of moments where I had to break my own self-imposed restrictions to, for example, shoot Vanya Shah right in the back of her smug head and beat a quick, immediately exposed retreat as I let the exhausted sweatshop workers she rules over see her body careen two stories to the ground below her. This was a moment so satisfying that I am struggling to not reinstall the game right now and record a clip myself. (By the way, while Hitman has never been about killing people who don’t deserve it, WoA’s targets ride a hell of a line between being laughably sociopathic and ripped from the headlines of [what is hopefully not] the near future. I really do admire it.)

Hitman had some of my absolute favorite moments this year and, despite it pushing you strongly to a lot of those moments, they never felt unearned. I often yearn for the desire to feel like I truly was the brain genius who earned my moments, but Hitman helped lessen some of that stringency on myself while still allowing me to push my understanding of the game. From throwing Erich Soders’ replacement heart into the trash to whacking the Janus in a send-up to Blood Money’s A New Life, it’s some of the most satisfied I’ve ever been getting lead to water.

And, god, that fucking mission in Berlin? Insane. Insane. I know people talk up Dartmoor a lot and it does deserve it but… man.

3) Dicey Dungeons

In the midst of my summer-time seasonal depression, nothing was really working for me. I found myself pouring over what was on PC Game Pass, writing off games that seemed like too much of an undertaking after I’d completed a certain, lengthy RPG earlier in the season. Dicey Dungeons was a blip on my radar once upon a time, but had slipped through the cracks of my memory until I scrolled past it in my Xbox app, then inched my way back up to it.

I am both surprised and not that I spent SO much time playing Dicey Dungeons this year. As a man that will play any rogueli(k)(t)e you put in front of me at least to the completion of one successful run, it’s basic fuckin’ math. It’s the logical conclusion of just how rudimentary you can make a roguelike and have me still play it.

It’s also, by technicality, the third god damned card game on this list.

Dead simple— Dicey Dungeons is a game of rogueli(k)(t)e Yahtzee with RPG classes, inventory management, and an absolutely fantastic soundtrack that has me picking up my chiptune defending sword-and-board once again. The fate of your runs are, with some influence from the player, entirely up to literal dice rolls. I truly love just how much the game leans into being a stone-cold RNG fest, down to the fact that the entire thing takes place in a game(show) of fate hosted by an anthropomorphized Lady Luck. Its writing and enemy design is sickeningly, saccharine sweet and just a tiny skosh insufferable, but it never gets in the way of how rock solid and addictive the game itself is. So much so that I squeezed this damn game dry of content.

I’ve seen quite literally every piece of new content the game has to offer shy of the Halloween expansion, (it turns the game into a lethal puzzle thing, just not my cup of tea,) and I still had to stop writing this section of the list to go play a quick round. Played Robot in Parallel Universe with a decisive victory against Madison, in case you’re curious. And I cranked the volume in the boss fight for the first time since I turned it down to catch up on podcasts and video essays while whittling through the end-game hard modes. Lifeline goes completely insane as does the rest of the soundtrack. I was throwing ass in my kitchen making sandwiches listening to this months ago. This game just rules.

2) Yakuza 7: Like A Dragon

Of all the ‘guys’ I have claimed to not be in this GOTY list, I am, maybe least of them all, a turn-based RPG guy. I’ve tried, multiple times to breach them, and the best I can get is about halfway through most mainline Pokemon games before the tedium of Okay Now You Go battling gets to me. And yeah, I know, I just got done rattling on about two different card and dice-based roguelikes that are also turn based but… that’s different, y’know? I’m not just highlighting Firaga and watching an animation play out, I’m throwin’ dice and channeling lightning orbs and…

Look, it’s not important. What is important is I finished my first fucking Yakuza game this year. And it was the goddamn turn based RPG! Yakuza 7 is one of the most charming and enjoyable games I’ve played in my life! And it’s a turn based RPG!

That’s horrifying!

I don’t need to sing the praises of any of Ryu Ga Gotoku’s games. If you’re following me, you’re probably fully bought into the series or have heard people around you audibly get boners for Goro Majima and Kazuma Kiryu. In fact, I find it incredibly difficult to write anything new or provocative about this game that hasn’t already been said, but I just feel so strongly about it. It’s the insanely fun video-game-meets-real-life premise and immeasurably loveable cast of misfits that excel. It’s the heat moves. It’s Zhao. It’s the raw passion, genuine heartbreak, and joy of just being here that really got me. It’s Zhao again. Combine all that with an active battle system that satisfies the goopy goblin gamer brain’s need for near constant input and man? I’m set.

I know through cultural osmosis that Yakuza is a series about a few key things: compassion, loyalty, the bonds we share with others, and what loyalty really means. Yakuza 7 obviously has all of this in spades, but especially what it has to say about the lower/working class, anyone unfortunate enough to be homeless, sex workers, and those from impoverished backgrounds is so effortlessly excellent that it makes me excited to go back and play this series from the word go. I’ll miss the hell out of Ichiban and the shonen protagonist brand of fire-blooded vigor and bullheadedness he brought, but I’m excited to (…eventually) start anew.

1) Jabroni Brawl: Episode 3

Here we are. Finally. I’m not only writing something about a released version of Jaykin Bacon Jabroni Brawl, but I also genuinely feel it’s my game of the year. And now that we’ve arrived at this juncture I just keep thinking… what the hell do I even say about this game? I found something, but fuck, it took a while:

It must be said that I was raised in a triple parent household: I was brought up by my mother, father, and the Source engine. When I was 9 years old, I tuned into a mid day re-run of the now anicent television program The Screensavers that showed off version five of Garry’s Mod. At that point, I’d already played scattered chunks of the short, but enthralling Half-Life 2 demo we had on our family computer, (of course, the Icthyosaur jumpscare and being teleported to Ravenholm scared me right off,) but hadn't picked up the game. I begged my poor cash strapped father for a copy probably too many times, and after we both realized the pirated copy he nabbed wouldn’t be compatible, got a Half-Life 2 & Counter Strike: Source double pack for me as a birthday/Christmas gift.

I loved Garry’s Mod. I’ve got no clue how many hours I poured into version 9 before its subsequent release on Steam as an officially sanctioned mod, but let’s just say it was a lot. In December 2005 I joined the Facepunch forums, learned the difference between models and textures, corrected a lot of spelling mistakes, had my first bouts with navigating Windows folder directories, definitely made some crude sex poses, and found my first group of online friends shortly thereafter. I would eventually slowly slip away from regular patronage to Facepunch sometime in the early 2010s, but the impact it had on me as a youth is unquestionable. We can talk about whether it was a net good some other time though.

Before this gets too far into navel gazing and nostalgia, I’ll say that along the line I played a wonderful mod for Half-Life 1 called Half-Life 2: Jaykin Bacon Source that serves as the genesis for Jabroni Brawl. It’s a mess, but up until its Facepunch-branded revival and subsequent alpha/beta tests, it was the only thing I’d ever played like it. It’s full of ripped assets from other mods, purposefully goofy voice acting from its shithead (lovingly) teenage creator, and plenty of stuff taken from the then-recent Metal Gear Solid 3, a game I had also fallen in love with prior. It was dumb fun that I have forced multiple groups of friends at varying stages of my life to play and have a ludicrous amount of attachment to.

And Jabroni Brawl: Episode 3 is that, all over again, from the faithfully recreated weapons and impenetrable Facepunch callbacks, to the fact that this more or less ended up being a surprisingly official-feeling love letter to anyone who has ever made anything in either Source or Goldsrc. Jabroni Brawl knows what it is, and that’s all it is. It’s a deathmatch mod for and by the people still cherishing the rapidly atrophying muscular structure of a game engine that just won’t seem to die. It's for the people who want to get a group of people together on a Friday and throw friction grenades at/fart on each other. And that's all it needs to be to knock it out of the park.

Source and its modding scene still means a lot to people, myself included. For a lot of us weirdoes, it was a playground that evolved into a way to make friends, hone skills and even turn interests into hobbies and jobs.

But hey, this is getting KINDA GAY!!!!!!!!

Jabroni Brawl is frenetic FPS bullshit. It’s terminally stupid, rough around the edges, and unbelievably fun with the right people. Jabroni Brawl is gaming. It’s e-sports. It's, dare I say, hobby-grade. And it’s a complete goddamn miracle. I mean, fuck, this is probably the one project to start on Facepunch and actually see the light of day, right? Even seeing the Tales From The Galactopticon models in the customization menu made me feel positively ancient.

Here’s an in-game clip of a good friend killing himself in maybe the funniest way I’ve ever seen. Take care, and Feliz Navidad.

#goty #long post #writing

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seungstarss · 2 years

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⸻ ❝ 𝐀𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 ❞ ˎˊ˗ PROLOGUE

「 10:01 PM : ❛❛ I'LL KILL YOU MYSELF❜❜ 」

Darkness. Through the cramped, dimly lit halls, yn rubbed her eyes, trying to make out any shape or formation that fell ahead in her pathway. The shrouding darkness encased the area, leaving her suffocated and dizzy as the dim lights flickered and zapped as if they'd break at any moment. She held onto her backpack strap for dear life, guarding the few items she carried inside — her ID, her phone, a knife, pepper spray, and last but not least, her invitation.

It was a rainy Sunday afternoon when yn received the dull paper envelope holding a black plastic card engraved with golden letters. Besides the lettering, the card was bland with a lack of design. "Come to xx xxxxx drive at 9pm, Friday xx, xxxx."

At first, she scoffed at what the card had to say. What kind of children's joke? Were they trying to threaten her? It all seemed like a set-up by some neighbourhood kid who enjoyed the pure frightening expressions their jokes left on young adults. "Pathetic." She mumbled, crumbling the card in her hand as she tossed it in the nearest trash can.

Yn had just gotten off of her shift at the local café and had no interest in taking part in some child's shenanigans. All she had in mind was her studies, and impressing her biology professor; professor Lee Heeseung. Though he was only a few years older than yn, she knew it was wrong to be crushing on someone so unobtainable. However, she couldn't stop herself from staring at him and daydreaming during her twenty-minute breaks. During her late-night calls with Yeji and Ryujin, they both called her delusional for even trying. "From the pictures, professor Lee's hot, I agree. But girl, with a face like his and a degree in teaching at such a prestigious university? He definitely already has a significant other." Yeji was right, but yn often found him meeting her gazes occasionally.

"Watch it!" A middle-aged man on a bike called out, almost crashing into yn as she was making her way to the bus terminal. Yn, who had her head down the whole time, apologized profusely even after the biker left her sight. It was getting darker, and the only source of natural light came from the full moon. She sighed as the rain didn't seem to stop — the downpour only got heavier, and her umbrella slowly became insignificant. The harsh rain attacked with a tremendous force like needles, and her shoes soaked, wetting her socks. Cursing the weather, she finally made it through the automatic doors of the station. The bus took her straight to her apartment and so as she found a seat on the almost empty vehicle, she fell into a deep slumber.

"You getting off or not?" A sudden voice spoke, waking her up from her almost peaceful nap. Her eyes scanned the scenery outside of the windows in shock, and she hastily packed her bag, checking if she left behind anything on the seat. Thanking the person who called her up, yn dashed out of the bus exit without opening her umbrella. The rain had stopped now, and the air was full of a damp, fresh smell.

As she sauntered closer to her apartment, her thoughts suddenly wandered to the unknown person on the bus. How did they know it was her stop? Did they know where she lived? Did they stalk her? The sudden fear overwhelmed yn as she gripped tightly on the sleeve of her fleece jacket. The feeling didn't wear off until she reached the mailbox room in the lobby of her apartment. Upon noticing the dull paper envelope sticking out of her mailbox, her fear was instead replaced with a spiraling sense of doom.

"Come to xx xxxxx drive at 9pm, Friday xx, xxxx." It read.

Her face lost its colour as she flipped the card.

"Ignore this one more time, and I'll fucking kill you myself."

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ellana-ravenwood · 4 years

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“You are not hard to love” - Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader

Something very VERY quick, that I suddenly felt compelled to write, once again in the middle of the night. I didn’t plan on writing it, but here we are. This is for anyone who ever felt like they were “hard to love”. You’re not. You just haven’t found the right person...Anyway, here. For you :

__________________________________________________

To be “hard to love” is a character flaw Bruce always felt he had.

It was actually hard, to exist with this knowledge, no matter how little he tried to make himself feel. Or not feel, for that matter.

As “Brucie Wayne”, a lot of people liked him, and the rest hated him for being so arrogant and smug. There were no inbetween.

Many people judged him to be just another idiot with a lot of money. They hated his guts. Or they admired him for his self-confidence. Still thinking, though, that he was a bit of a dunce.

It was fine. He wanted them to think that of him. To see him for someone he really wasn’t. So it’d blur the line, so they’d never guess who the Batman really was.

As a result, it was difficult, to love, truly love, “Brucie Wayne”. Then again, he wouldn’t want anyone to love him for what he wasn’t. This public persona of him, would never know real love. It was fine.

But his real self. His real self.

Batman.

Was probably the number one reason Bruce felt he was so hard to love...

Who would want to put up with this shit ? Who, in their right mind, would want to love a man like him ? Bruce knew himself very well. Unfortunately.

Sometimes, even him couldn’t stand himself.

He knew he could be abrasive, arrogant, self-important, cold, too focus on a task at hand to care about anyone’s feelings etc etc...He knew that his real self, the one he showed more with his Batman side, wasn’t very likable.

He found it hard, to connect to others. It was hard to stay connected anyway, when he was always stuck in his own head.

He knew himself very well. He did. He knew how he was, and he couldn’t possibly see anyone putting up with it, and loving him.

He didn't even like himself very much...

Every single time he fell in love, things didn’t end well. Because he’s too high maintenance. Because it’s hard to keep up with him and his moods...even for someone like Selina Kyle.

Even she, whom he felt understood him more than anyone he met before, got tired of his games. Ah, but she was also too fiercely independent for what he wanted. Mmm...But who was he fooling ? He knew she’d never stay too long with him, not only because she was independent, but because he was too difficult to be with.

And it hurt. It really did.

Because deep down, what Bruce really wanted...It’s love. Real love. True love. Unconditional love. As stupid as it might sound, to anyone knowing him. Ah but, if you truly knew him, it all made sense.

He would never admit it, not even to himself, but his fear of being completely abandoned ran deep. And his want of finding someone who would accept him for who he truly was was even deeper.

But he was hard to love.

Who could ever put themselves through the ringer like that, and love someone like Bruce Wayne ? Like...Like Batman ?

And then...then you came in.

************

He still thought he was hard to love. Difficult to be with.

Your relationship, at that time, was somewhat new. It hadn’t been serious for long. But serious it was, in Bruce’s eyes, at least.

Ah but he kept thinking he was too hard to love. That you would leave for sure, once you would realize it. His insecurities got the best of him often, even as he tried to ignore them and just enjoy what he had for the time being.

Up until...

It happened shortly after his first real fight with you. He had one of his “dark day” (which he didn’t have much anymore), where he would be ultra-focus on his Batman work, and be a jerk to any outside distraction.

Except you would have none of it, as you were trying to tell him something important. And thus, the fight began.

And he shut down. Put up walls, once again, between him and you. Because that’s what he did. And it made everything worst, of course.

He couldn’t stand the flood of feelings that came from being too emotional. Angry because of the fight, sad too, and absolutely terrified he might lose you if you guys fought enough for you to realize he’s just...Too hard to love.

So he suppressed his emotions. As usual. It was much easier for him to give you the silent treatment than go through the pain of talking it out. It was too overwhelming for him, he wasn’t good at the whole “feeling things”.

He was too afraid he’d say something he would dearly regret. He knew it was healthier, to talk it out. But he just couldn’t. He couldn’t deal with those emotions. And so he shut you out, you got frustrated, and then Dick tried to...

The sweet little boy tried to get you two to talk, to calm down, and Bruce snapped at him. He didn’t meant to. He instantly regretted it. But he did.

Which was the last straw that broke the camel back for you. You told him to “go to hell”, took Dick’s hand (who looked absolutely crestfallen, just remembering his facial expression made Bruce’s heart hurt), and left.

Bruce felt like this was it. He just ruined the one good thing in his life.

The one thing that, after years of being stuck in the dark, brought him light.

You, and his newly adopted son.

Lights of his life.

He needed you two. But he understood if you decided to go...He was too hard to love. He would let you go, if it meant you’d be happier (what a fool).

He was too much, too much.

For hours, hours and hours, he beat himself down for it. Stuck in his own head once again. Hating himself.

Sitting alone in front of the batcomputer, barely paying attention to what is scrolling on the screen...Bruce felt like shit.

Why ? Why did he have to be like that ?

Why couldn’t he...be someone who was easy to love ? Who wasn’t a constant challenge to everyone around him ?

Yes. That’s it. He was a challenge. A challenge who could’nt-

Footsteps. Taking him out of this darkness spiraling downward and downward.

And it’s you. You’re right there. Looking at him critically, and he’s sure...

He’s sure you came to break up with him. That he shut you out one too many times. That him being a jerk to little Dickie was too much. That-

“There’s-”

He couldn’t. He couldn’t hear you say it. So he cuts you off, with words that made his heart bleed :

“I know, we’re done.”

“Excuse me ?”

He can’t look at you. Can’t bear it. He turns around, and continues, trying to sound as neutral as possible, trying to not let his voice crack, going right to the point, as fast as possible, so he can keep it up :

“I went too far. Too many times. You’ve...had enough of me. I understand.”

“What ?”

In your voice, he can hear surprise. Ah. You were too nice to realize that one day, it would come to this. That one day, you were doomed to leave him because he was too much.

You were too...good for him, to him. Too good to realize he knew it all along.

And so here you were, surprised he figured it out. Surprised he knew, before you told him, that you were leaving him.

“I know I’m hard to love. I do. And you-”

“Wait wait wait, uh ? You think I’m gonna bail out because you were a jerk ? You think you’re too hard to love ? Oh Bruce...”

There’s a short pause, as if you’re searching for your words.

He looks up at you, feeling a dash of hope invade his heart. He tries to fight it, but he can’t. Because...Because...Finally, you say :

“Bruce. When we started this, when it became serious, when I decided to jump in your life and in Dick’s...I knew what I was getting myself into. I know you enough. I know the Batman side of you. I know you have moments you’re just...you’re just too stuck in your own head, and in your pain. I know.”

You put a soft hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at you by raising his head.

“I know what you think of yourself. And I know what others think of you. You’re arrogant, cold, unforgiving blahblahblah insert many more words saying how difficult it is for you to show your true self and emotions. But...But I also know that’s not all there is to you. I know you, and others, are wrong about you. Too hard on you. I know you.”

You take a step closer to him, and lay your forehead against his.

“I know you’re funny, like, seriously hilarious. No one ever made me laugh like you. I know you care, sometimes too much, and it’s why things are so hard for you many times. I know you’re actually a great dad, no matter what you think. I know many admire you, you’re truly amazing. You’re smart, caring, loving...I know that it’s hard for you to open up, to love...but when you do, when you do...You love really hard, Bruce. Fully, intensely, passionately, with your entire being. I never felt so loved, than when you hold me. When you-”

There’s a short pause, and Bruce realizes it’s because you’re blushing and have to regain control of yourself again. It doesn’t surprise him. What you’re saying right now, makes his heart beat a hundred time faster, and he can feel his face burning.

Only you, ever made him blush so...

You take a deep breath, and say :

“All my life Bruce. All my life I felt I was hard to love.”

At this, Bruce can’t help but scoff, and he’s about to say something but you cut him off sternly :

“I’m not done, mister. As I was saying, my entire life, I too, felt like I was hard to love. But when I met you...When I met you, I realized I felt that way because the people around me always made me feel like that. Always made it sound like it was a chore, to put up with me. That they could love me without making any compromises, while I had to change completely for them. Because I was too “difficult” you know ? Because sometimes, I too would have mood swings, or a need to be alone, or...just things that are not considered normal. That are associated with being hard to love. And I was surrounded with people who made me feel bad about this. Who made me feel like I had to change to be normal, and to finally have love.”

Your arms snake around his shoulders now, and you hold him tight against your chest, kissing the top of his head.

“You made me realize, Bruce, my Bruce, that...That I’m not actually hard to love. That I was just surrounded with people who weren’t willing to make the effort for me. Which is fine. No-one has to put up with anything if they don’t want to. But...Nobody is hard to love. They just never found the right person. The one willing to fight for them. It’s what you made me realize.”

He holds you back now. With all his might. What is this stinging feeling in his eyes ?

“I love you. Unconditionally. I know who you are. And I want to fight for you. I will always fight for you. I’m not promising that I’ll never grow frustrated, and yell at you back, to then storm off. I’m not saying we’ll never fight. I’m just saying...It doesn’t matter. Because I love you. And I’ll always find my way back to you.”

In your eyes, he can see it, there’s a strong light shining.

One that proves him you love him. Deeply, and unconditionally.

One that led him out of a dark pass many times before.

One that proved...That proved maybe, he wasn’t that hard to love.

Not when he finally found the right one.

He couldn’t believe you ever thought YOU were hard to love. Ah. Has anyone in the world ever been as perfect for each other as you two were ?

“I love you.”

He says. His entire being, all his emotions, poured in those three little words.

“I love you too Bruce. And believe me, saying those words to you ? It’s very easy.”

His arms around you tightens even more. And then you add :

“Now that this is out of the way...We can talk more about this later, but for now, there’s more pressing matters at hands. I actually came down here to ask if...if you wanted some ice cream ? Dick and I went out for a little bit, and brought all our favorite. Yours, too. We thought we’d need a “pick-me-up”. All of us. As a family. We’re supposed to go through things together...And ice cream helps, yes ?”

He nods. His throat too tight to say anything. And for the moment, it’s fine. He’ll tell you later. He’ll tell you how much you mean later. If he can’t find the words, he’ll find other ways to show you.

You know anyway. You know he loves you. Just as strong as you love him.

He loves you just as you are. You love him just as he is.

“I love you.”

He whispers, and you smile at him, of this life-changing smile that showed him the light... You peck him on the lips, before taking his hand and walking out of the batcave, to the Manor.

Where ice cream, and a very sweet little boy eager to raise his dad’s spirit, were waiting.

Unconditional love.

Bruce Wayne, wasn’t hard to love. And now, he was surrounded with the right people to make him understand this.

__________________________________________________

I just have a lot of feelings about Bruce Wayne haha. I just wanted to write a little something. It also stems from my own feelings. I’m sure we all felt at some point, that we were/are impossible to love. That no one will ever put up with our shit...yet there are people unwilling to give up on you, people who make you “better” etc etc. So. Yeah. I wrote this very quickly. Once again, watch me feel too much in the middle of the night haha. Sorry if this isn’t very good, it’s one of those “bonus” story I suddenly think about and write quickly in one sitting. I enjoyed writing it, but I admit it took less effort than most stories. So. Yes.

If you liked it, don’t hesitate to leave a little feedback and reblog if ya want :).

#Bruce Wayne x reader #Bruce Wayne imagine #Batman x reader #Batman imagine #Batfam x Reader #Batfam #DC reader insert #Bruce Wayne needs love ok ?#We don't talk enough about how hard he is #on himself #like he ain't flawless for sure #but he's so unforgiving of his own #mistakes and such #anyway here we are #fem!reader

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cynicalrecoverysociety · 3 years

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I'm in a weird place right now. I think this journal might be even more nonsensical than usual so continue at your own risk.

I think I have at this point almost completely disassociated with American culture. To a larger extent at least some of the global first world culture I think but definitely the typical American culture. It's very othering and gives me a lot of impulses about things I "should" do which I hate. There is very little you should find yourself compelled to do, and things like "get a TikTok" or "switch back to an old phone that doesn't have the internet" are most certainly things no one "should"do.

But I just have no idea what is going on in the world anymore. I don't know any current events, and any time I do find out anything it almost immediately sends me into a depression spiral I have to claw myself out of. So I try to avoid news of almost any kind. Which I think is immoral in some way? You know those posts that are like "PSA about bad thing" then there is a reply articulating why OP is fear mongering or misinformed then there are more posts articulating why each person above them is wrong and now you've read the whole thing and you can't even tell who is right at the end because the whole thing was a persuasive essay written about topics you don't know anything about? If that makes sense at all that is how my brain feels. I hear affirmations that it's okay to check out of things you can't control that hurt your mental health, so I scroll quickly past anything about animals and forests and climate change and any other global calamity that will send me into a spiral. But being ignorant of the woes of humanity is also bad and you shouldn't just ignore it? But I'm not really ignoring it I know that the entire world is on fire I'm just trying not to doom scroll? But I also can't do anything but vote because I have no money or power of any kind? And obsessing over the fate of humanity is not productive in helping the planet or myself. The whole you can't take care of anyone else if you can't take care of yourself thing. But people and the planet are dying, they are screaming out for someone to see their plight, and I just can't. I can't help. I can barely function. I can't even look or listen without falling apart.

And I have no communities anymore. I have no social media except this and to an extent reddit. I'm moving away from Reddit more every day. I'm starting to think Tmblr might have to be cut back too but I have no idea if that is an impulse b that serves me or not. Tumblr used to feel really fun, I've talked about this before, but as I use it I am becoming more conflicted. It's impossible to sanitize my dash of things I don't want to see. Blocking tags and people only goes so far. I even blocked a very popular fitness Tumblr because their posts were too saturated on my dash and they were reblogged so much (and the block doesn't stop reblogged posts for some reason) that I ended up just unblocking them because it was no different. I feel very little connection on this platform and it's growing weaker every day. I think I was hoping to get an intimate following that I could chat to but I realized that no one wants to interact with a faceless person who does very low key workouts, few selfies, and mostly personal posts in long rambling blogs no one reads. I think I thought that just by being myself I would attract people like me but I didn't. You still have to put effort into your blog, post the kind of thing people like to get people to see it. And people really like selfies and workout gifs. When I was posting a selfie every workout I was getting a ton of followers and messages and when I realized I didn't like that stuff anymore my blog went silent. And I hate myself for even caring but I just wanted to find a few like-minded people I might be able to talk to but I was just putting effort into the wrong things. I just made a blog that was fairly popular but required a lot of stuff I'm just not interested in doing anymore. It made me feel really alone because I realized some mutuals that I thought perhaps thought of me from time to time didn't and just liked workout selfies. I don't know why I expected different but I think I secretly hoped someone just silently cared about me and my journey but in reality they are just like me and just want to see fitness inspiration on their dash. So if I'm not posting inspiring personal victories I'm just screaming into the void.

I think I might move to just a private diary app. I'm not a bullet journaler at all, just a normal writing person and that's what I use Tumblr for almost exclusively now. I used to think my journals might be helpful for people. People like me who are struggling and trying to grow. I love reading peoples journal posts on here and it's one of the few things that makes me think there is hope in this community for me. But I quickly become embarrassed of the content on my journals, knowing that this isn't the kind of post that makes people what to interact with me and I private them. Now I have no idea why I'm doing this anymore. I like that I can just write here and I think deep down I want some validation in the notes but that validation instinct is unhealthy I think. I shouldn't show people my journal unprompted and then become desolate when no one cares that much. Everybody's got problems and mine are not unique. Perhaps my depression posts are just more negativity people have to scroll right past to make it through the day. I think I need to learn to be my own validation. I seek it here whether I like it or not. When I try to make this space my own and just do my own thing I still get sad watching no one care. Maybe if my feelings are too tied up in internet points I need to remove them. But this is my last piece of social media. I feel like I can't just check out from this too. What if I want it later? I will miss several blogs, but I just feel like I don't fit in. I'm not horny or seeking justice or lifting weights or going to the gym. I'm not even running. I'm just living a very low key healthy lifestyle with an emphasis on mental health. And it's getting to be such a personal journey that general platitudes and affirmations are falling flat. The fact that the place I thought was is now not really for me either. I feel the fitness community is much more open to people who try to go hard and fail but keep trying to go hard rather than people who realized they can only do a little and do it every day. I can do very, very little. I feel guilty for what I can do. I can fast easily, but working out is a struggle every day. Brushing my teeth and taking a shower is a struggle every day. Of course I can't go to the gym. I can barely get out of bed and go to work. I'm so envious of those who can make hard workouts and strict macros part of their life. But I feel like there are only two communities: the balls to the walls fitness community and the "it's okay if all you did today was breathe" mental health community. There is no "hey do hard things but only a little" community. My approach to health is not mirrored anywhere I can find anywhere. Maybe people with my philosophy are just out there doing it and not posting online about it. That is my instinct on this matter and it makes sense people like me just checked out. Maybe I should do the same

Eh. Idk. I don't know what serves me. I will try to figure it out after work. If my blog goes silent before long I guess this is why.

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game-fixer · 3 years

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Game Fixes Episode 1: Mega Man X7

I'm gonna start my tenure with one of the most notorious games in all of Mega Man, not just the X series. I have several ideas that can make the game feel more in line with characters and feel less forced.

Of course this will come with general polish in many aspects including a redone script and voice work. No disrespect towards any actors/actresses in the games, of course, but the presentation needs some serious work. Anyway, let's start with the first change

Axl

No, I'm not gonna get rid of him. I think he's a welcome addition to the cast and, if worked right, could be made to be even more beloved in the game he debuted in, despite being the Silver the Hedgehog of the X series.

First idea would be an overhaul in his move set. I say ditch the lame Copy Shot thing for his charge. Also have him function more like Bass from Mega Man and Bass/Mega Man 10, where he stands in place and you aim manually from the start. In 3D, (because I'm not getting rid of 3D) this could even include a first person aim function so you can be more precise. Also a light will shine to show your path so you're not relying on blind fire. Now, I'm thinking he could still charge a shot. What would he shoot? Well you could target multiple enemies at a time, release, and shoot a spread shot of small homing missiles at enemies or even Mavericks which can take a lot of these shots, of course. This feels more like a proper special ability and something that requires a meter for. So what do we do with that Copy Ability that makes him special?

Bio Metal

Yep, the special little MacGuffins from the ZX series. The very same. I'm thinking Axl would be the first Reploid to be made with an early version of Bio Metal, allowing him to change forms at will. This would be his version of X's Weapon Systems. Axl would gain new armor and abilities from the Mavericks he fights to boost his arsenal. A regular shot and a special shot. For example, with Ride Boarski, you'd shoot his regular weapon, but his Special move could be a Tackling Dash that would plow through enemies until the Meter runs out. Flame Hyenard could give a flamethrower for the main shot and his special could give you a clone that shoots for a few seconds. Tornado Tonion could give his leaf shot as a main, and his special lets you throw a tornado and damage enemies in a wide pattern. That sort of thing. The Mavericks aren't the only ones you're getting Bio Metal data from, though. Before I talk about that, let's bring up the main boy himself.

I'm thinking X would still be unlockable just like normal, but you'd play as him through an intro stage to feel the power you need to have back. Is he moping about violence and sitting on the couch like a lump like before? Yes and no. X, after causing a serious accident and putting innocent lives in danger, requests to be taken out of active duty until he can sort himself out, but he doesn't want to stop helping. Seeing how lousy X treated our new friend in the real story gave me an idea. Make X train Axl as his superior officer! Axl could be a trainee Hunter, still dealing with his checkered past with Red Alert and realizing they were no better than murderers, thus joining the Maverick Hunters to pay his dues to himself and prove to himself he isn't evil. X, seeing some of his own plight in his Rookie apprentice, starts taking a liking to Axl's ideals, despite his hot-headed, quick-to-the-trigger tactics and lack of professionalism. They butt heads through the intercom, with X saying this needs to be done by the book, but Axl wanting to show how he can take on any challenge no sweat and all that. X would be the Navigator for Axl, though Alia would aid as well.

Unlocking X

While saving Reploids will still be a thing, X will be unlocked halfway through the game. The whole thing would be integrated into the story. Axl defeats 3 or 4 Mavericks. All the while, X is still dealing with his fear of becoming a Maverick, fearing all he lost and hating his carelessness. Before your 4th fight, X will start getting more hostile and snappy at Axl, making Alia worried for X, since she's never seen him so worked up at himself. Axl begins to suspect X going Maverick to himself (he'd think "H-he isn't going...nah, of course not. Commander X is too strong for that...but...) Once the 4th stage is complete we get a midstage, like in Mega Man 7 or 8. A Mechanaloid is causing havoc in the city and Axl offers to go help. However, X sees that it's the same one that he caused the accident with and this sends him spiraling into anger.

"It's still out there?! After all I did, it wasn't enough?!? Damn it!!"

"Commander! Let me go take it out! Those people are in danger!"

"Why? So you can cause more damage with your recklessness?! You want to be a Maverick Hunter? Act like one and grow up!"

"...that's it... I'm not taking this from an old man that's crying about one little mistake he made!"

"...tch...you can't go anyway...you have your mission... just... stand down for now, kid."

"Commander X, what are you-?"

"You're right, Axl. I've been stewing about this for too long. This guy's mine. I have to prove this to myself."

That's how I think the scene would go. You go in as X and fight the Mechanaloid after a short stage rescuing plenty of civilians along the way. Alia and Axl are watching the events and communicating with X as well. X wins the battle, but suddenly his Buster goes off out of nowhere again, nearly destroying something that would put civilians in harms way. They are saved in the nick of time by Axl, who ports in anyway to try to help. X starts to doubt himself again, but Axl could see that it was something out of his control. The two go back to Hunter Base to run diagnostics and they find a bug in X's Buster systems, a lesser string of the Sigma Virus. X gets repaired after seeing this virus as a warning that Sigma might be back. This snaps him out of it and this gets him to go out and fight. You can now choose to go out as Axl, X, or as a team. If you go solo, your shots will be stronger, but without the backup, you'll be left with less defense.

Zero?

Nope, I'm not forgetting our favorite robot swordsman. At all. He will not make a physical appearance at all in the game. Why? Well...the Mega Man Zero series is still a thing. While I like the idea that Zero's ending in X6 being at the very end of the series, I'm trying to keep a stronger set of continuity here. Zero would still be in stasis, though he could communicate with X, since I'm thinking this could be a precursor to Cyber Elves, having Zero be something like a separate AI that can still communicate. As for playing as him? Oh he's still available...as a Bio Metal! I'm thinking after your first Maverick stage, a Zero spirit will appear in a level (kinda like the X Hunters in X2 but less stupid). Go find it, and Axl will be challenged to a fight against Zero, or at least a Reploid being controlled by his spirit. Before Axl finishes it off, X tells him to stand down, and Zero comes back to talk with X. The Spirit also leaves behind the Z-Saber, and thus infusing Axl with Zero's abilities, thus creating a prototype of the Z-Type Bio Metal from ZX.

Red Alert

So, get this. What if Sigma really WAS technically gone forever? I mean the bodies are all used up. The Spirit lives on, yes, but ol' Siggy ran out of his own bodies. Humor me here. What if Red Alert became the new villain faction full time? What if Red became the new face of Sigma? We'll call it...Red Doom or something. Sigma basically integrated himself into Red's systems and basically became part of his robotic code as thoughhe was always Sigma. This could also explain more why Axl needed to leave Red Alert, but it also shows how much in denial he was about Red going Maverick, since Red taught Axl everything he knows.

Script Changes?

I made my case about where the plot should go, but lemme try to work out personalities I think everyone could get down with in general.

Axl is the cocky, hot-blooded new kid who wants to prove himself to be better than where he came from. No petulant, childish talking or stupidity here. He'd be more like Sonic the Hedgehog but still acting just a little green. Still taking things just seriously enough for his quips to be endearing.

X takes his role as a CO very seriously. He's to the point and ensures that Axl is taught the way a situation must be handled. He hates how lax Axl is during his missions and tries to get him to focus. In combat, X is a no nonsense fighter who is ready to bring in the Mavericks, by force if need be. He doesn't try to get them to go peacefully considering his experience. (in fact he'll say once "I guess I can't expect you to come quietly?") No more "Why must Reploids fight each other" and blah blah blah. We all heard this. While he hates the fight, he knows at this point that the world needs a warrior, sort of like Gohan if that helps.

Zero is supportive of X and does his best to help keep his mind out of darkness. He'll even say "You were willing to stand by my side when I feared going Maverick, so I'll be here to do the same."

Red is a lot more cold at the start, outright insulting Axl, saying that he's no more than a worthless prototype, and the next generation of Reploids will be far superior to Axl's faulty design, or taunting X saying "How the mighty hath fallen. How does it feel, X? How does it feel to have to watch as the world crumbles to nothing through the eyes of your good for nothing amateur all because you couldn't keep a tab on your trigger finger?" Red will also be a boss at the end of Axl's first stage before the Maverick fights, and you're meant to lose it to show how powerful he is. You can see shreds of Sigma in there, but he is woven into Red's thoughts and personality in a way that makes Sigma and Red seem equal in the body, though a body can still be created (basically Red Sigma will be put in a more "Sigma appropriate" body with the bald head and big ass chin. Basically Sigma takes Red completely in a way. They're both in control, like their souls combined if that makes sense.

Everyone else is how they should be. Alia, for example is more like how she was in X8.

These are just a few changes that would make Mega Man X7 a much more plot centered game that knows how to work with it's characters. Other fixes like making it faster, tweaking the weapons, making Dr. Light stay as an AI, all that feels superfluous, because a lot of that just makes sense to change. Same with presentation, but with a new script, new lines are inevitable, so duh.

Stay tuned for more Game Fixes! If you want to request a game, lemme know!

#megaman x #megaman x7 #megaman #video games #fan idea #fan thoughts #new blog

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diveronarpg · 4 years

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Congratulations, KAT! You’ve been accepted for the role of OTHELLO. Admin Rosey: So, one thing that’s really difficult to highlight without overemphasizing is Othello’s dichotomy and his constant conflict. Sometimes you can focus so wholly on one aspect of a character that it’s overwhelming. But Kat, you write Odin so effortlessly, so FREAKING effortlessly that you capture it throughout the application as an integral part of his character -- interweaving it into the plot, the sample, even the “what drew you to this character” section. I am completely blown away and utterly terrified of what havoc you’re going to wreak on the dash. I am screaming over this application and I always will, time and time again. Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias | Kat Age | 25 Preferred Pronouns | She/her Activity Level | OK so my classes went online and my job has cut staff in half so I have so much free time and so much muse. Listen…. LISTEN I know I’m not always reliable but it’s game time lemme say like at least twice a week, I’m here for the haul let’s write baby!!!!!!!!!!! Timezone | EST How did you find the rp? | I originally came across it in the lsrpg tag, also my girl Taryn recommended it and also I miss y’all :( Current/Past RP Accounts | These are links to inactive past accounts:

https://neosy.tumblr.com/ https://grchcmisms.tumblr.com/ https://99gael.tumblr.com/ https://halogenq.tumblr.com/ https://odinbellc.tumblr.com/ ;) https://pavellam.tumblr.com/

IN CHARACTER

Character | Othello, Odin Bello – requesting faceclaim change to Trevante Rhodes :^) What drew you to this character? |

Through my first experience writing Odin I learned a lot about both him and myself as a writer. He was initially a challenge for me because at my roots I was never someone successful in writing characters with good intent, the easier side of him being the one of violence and chaos, something that was difficult considering more often than not… that isn’t who Odin is, or more fittingly, who he wants to be. I struggled with his daily life, the man he tries so hard to be and who he’s used to becoming over the years and I realized that was the key in; the struggle. I’ve teetered around writing for a while recently, the desire and the muse not being there for me when I remembered my dear, dear, Odin and for a split second I wondered about him. Such an interesting thing, to wonder about a character, to dive deep into your mind’s eye and ask, “How is he doing, I wonder? The man of gold and copper, the being of olympus and hades? How is my boy?” And realizing the responsibility of creating and finding that out is all mine. It felt like seeing a past lover in the check out line, wide eyes as you remember the missed calls and blocked number, and realize how fuckin’ good they look today and, damn, were stupid for leaving them.

Dearest Odin, please take me back. I miss you so dearly. I’ll try hard not to leave you so suddenly this time, that was my bad.

Who am I to fool myself? My heart always brings me back to him. Feed me an optimist with nothing but a history of failure, rocks beating down on a pristine marble surface til the cracks spell misery. It’s all his fault, the pain, suffering, and failure… but he tries so hard. It’s as if he’s doomed from the beginning, the first cries from his mouth as a child, a bad omen, the first steps he takes, the small tottering of a baby, were faced in the wrong direction. Some people are born bad, some people are cultivated as such, and Odin, at his root, is a demon in disguise even despite his most valiant efforts; it’s a nature he fights everyday and, oh, the battle grows bloodier and bloodier.

The rest may look familiar to you:

I’ve always been a sucker for a good heart and bruised knuckles.

Such beauty and chaos, such destruction and uncertainty, an aching heart that slips through your fingers as you struggle to grasp it, begging it to hold still. He shakes and struggles with nature and nurture, who he should be and who he wants to be, and more importantly, what he’s become. He feels the remorse and pain of it everyday when he wakes and each night he goes to sleep – for a time he managed to be the person he worked so hard to be. It crumbled under his feet and his developing insanity, the rumble of his father’s ways breaking the ground under his skin and causing something of a snap, a moment of true obscurity. He hates himself for it, but he cannot yet again break his mold, he cannot become someone else. His will is cracking, his heart breaking.

Give me his nuance, give me his pain, give me his turmoil, and oh, please, give me his struggle; the desperate gasp of collapsed lungs and a tattered chest. I cannot stress how beautiful I find him, the feeling in my ribcage so solemn at his childhood and forthcoming, his painful attributes and breaking spirit. A man who shows his kindness through terror and bloodshed, so intent on being a good person that he’d tear the throat of a thief with his teeth.

Yes, I’ve found love.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? | Where do you see this character developing, and what kind of actions would you have them take to get there? 3 future plot ideas would be preferable.

(I have new ideas but lord, do I struggle with formulating plot ideas in this format so I’m just gunna keep the same ones because of such and because I DO in fact still want to play them out.)

MEN SHOULD BE WHAT THEY SEEM //

Oh, can the flash of his teeth brighten a room. His smile is bright but, these days, so rarely genuine. He no longer knows who he is truly fighting for, what side of the coin he lays on with his copper spinning on its side in a never ending spiral. He does not know where he belongs, nor, who he truly is and it plagues him in a way that’s all too familiar, a way that feels like his mother’s comfort and his father’s recklessness, the smell of alcohol on someone’s tongue when they speak and the feeling of a caress on skin. He needs to make a choice, a permanent decision for once in his life, pick his path and follow it to the end instead of cutting through the woods once more. Who are you, Odin? His own face in the mirror becoming more unfamiliar in each passing day, a building anxiety and insanity, a hurricane creating a disaster inside him. Who are you?

His reflection tired, tainting his handsome face and false expressions, a hunger growing just under the surface, a desperation so hot; who will you be?

FOR SHE HAD EYES AND CHOSE ME //

Delilah, oh, how she filled something inside of him, and oh, how he tore into the filled space as if rabid, as if being whole was too much to bear, the filled space too heavy, and the paranoia of losing it all creasing his forehead and melting in his palms.

So he did what he does best, and he ripped through the plaster and insulation like a hammer, shattered the glass and caused the empty space to bleed. It hasn’t stopped aching, despite his insistence that it has healed, sometimes he still wakes with his shirt soaked in blood, drenched in suffering. How can he learn to forgive? He learned his lessons but the morals cannot seem to stick, the weakness he caused in his own self and the horror he caused for the woman he loved – loves, still finding its way through his mind and heart. He seeks self forgiveness just as much if not more than he seeks hers. He cannot move on without finding solace or closure but those are two things so hard to capture and accept. Sometimes, he feels so much like his father with his past misgivings it stirs disgust.

It’s time to repent.

THE GREEN EYED MONSTER //

Ivan is a scab, an infection that Odin refuses to treat. He’s become cautious, wearily aware of betrayal in the past and more on the horizon. He has a feeling, a ponderance that keeps him up at night, the sends shocks through his veins. He hates to think of his friend, his family, as a traitor, as a monster in disguise seeking to antagonize the worst parts of Odin himself, but it’s becoming harder and harder to ignore. It scrapes the back of his mind, creates an itch that he cannot scratch no matter how deep he digs, no matter if the skin starts bleeding, it won’t go away. How does he cut out another piece of his life, another piece of himself so vital? It feels like he is losing those most important to him, that they’re all turning on him and it creates nothing but fear, more paranoia and uncertainty.

He wants so desperately to be wrong, but knows what will happen if he is not.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | If anyone deserves to die at some point in this rp I feel like Odin’s a good contender to get fuckin’ GANKED

IN DEPTH

Please choose between the interview or the para sample (or both, if you like!)

In-Character Para Sample:

Act I

The sun beats down on darkened skin, wind blowing through open cruiser windows, sunglasses adorned on his face and a holder keeps track of coffees. In the daylight he glistens – not in a literal sense of glowing skin and eyes, he does not hover over the earth as if ethereal, not a streak against the sky that blinds any human eyes that dare linger, but instead in the sense that no one could ever find the man to be anything but happy. His teeth, those straight, white, teeth that come alive in a smile and clear rooms with a sneer peek from behind pulled lips in a grin. He walks with a swagger, bearing gifts in coffee for other officers and sharp humor and barked laughs for poor moods. He so easily falls into the facade of being created from nothing but light and the body of Christ, a saint in all regards except moral, light jests greeting all who perceive him and all who engage.

Well groomed, upkept and clean, there was no reason to suspect anything was amiss in the crook of his grins, the sharp of his wit, the movements of his muscles under skin. He even makes arrests like a holy man, like someone with something to lose to violence. His hands rest on the steering wheel, music plays from the stereo and he nods his head, every other line finding its way out of his lips even in no one’s presence but his own. He isn’t playing a character in the moment, enjoying the everydayness of the outside world, the warmth of the air touching his limbs and being sucked into his lungs. He feels joy, he embodies it, he hovers with it. His foot eases off the gas at the turn of a light and one hand finds itself resting outside the drivers window, head cocked to the side, heart beating steadily in his chest – firm and ever present in the strength of his pulse.

A human being in all forms; a person, a person, a person, and his phone rings.

Pulling in the parking lot he answers the call, the perspective outside leaves the voice on the other end muffled as it’s pressed to his ear, his face falling ever so slightly, car pushed into park. He nods even though the speaker cannot see him, he makes a sound of understanding as they continue and suddenly something is more solid inside of him. The fluidity, the liquid that flowed between sunlight and good music steels itself against the reality of his life, of who he is and what he is to do, the lake jostled and good-feelings distorted. It’s not for the faint of heart, not created for those with poor constitution, and he is a police officer until ten tonight; that’s what he says to the voice on the other end so they tell him to have it done by eleven. He does not hesitate until he hangs up, a sigh of the last good breath leaving his lungs. A moment of silence for what he lost.

He grabs the coffees and heads inside.

Act II

The headlights send streaks through the night, the yellow color sending shadows running rampant across the near empty field – long and sickly. The air is not still but choked, a vice grip stealing the oxygen away from those who dared attempt breathing. There stood a figure in the darkness, large shoulders over a larger frame, muscles tightened as he digs and digs, the shovel breaking the earth harshly with each bend of his arms. His breathing is rough, like a rubber band pulled to full capacity trying to bend and break to fit the expansion of his lungs. The shovel carries on.

The silence that hung heavy around the lone sound of crumbling dirt could kill in its own regard; ringing in his ears as he ignores the shower curtain wrapped in duct tape buried in the back corners of his trunk. Odin’s mind is empty to everything but the task, split skin and dried blood from his face and knuckles, the bruises adorning his ribcage. Perhaps it was self defense for the sake of defense, he threw the first punch but it was returned just as well and by then, truly, the control was lost. It was what they had wanted to happen, and he was nothing if not complicit. He supposed that was what they liked about him, another body, a bloodhound. Caving for the sake of therapy, sober by daylight and drenched in sweat and blood by nighttime – if only to keep his sanity. He was nothing if not built of power and control in both physical and mental regards over everyone but himself.

Try to carve a better god out of wood, put him on a pedestal and pray all you’d like, the real sacrifice will come in blood much later – but this flesh and bone, that which has created the man who finds himself up to his chest in dirt standing at over six feet, he is paid now and up front. He is solid, and real.

He straightens up, dirt caked to his jeans and soiled t-shirt, sweat broken across his skin making him shine under the glare of the headlight, the sheen making him appear as if glowing under the half exposed moon. He plants his hands on the outside on the deepened earth and pulls himself out, breathing hard through his nose, a noise like a grunt, face twisted, teeth appearing behind pulled lips. He stares at the dip of the trunk, chest moving, knuckles tightening, shovel thrown to the side. He isn’t even halfway done yet; he gathers himself, and pulls the latch free.

Act III

(TW: self harm kind of)

The neighborhood is still and quiet, blackness behind every window and curtain at such an ungodly hour, the only sounds being the low rumble of the occasional car passing on the main road nearby. In the stillness there begins a movement, the shape of a tall man shaking open the gate leading to the back of a house, his clothes defiled and leaving trails. He strips in the backyard of the home; shoes, socks, shirt, and jeans forming a pile of mud and dirt by the sliding glass doors until he stands in his boxers, fingers unlocking the back door, the cold of the night wetting trails down his back and sides, whispering to his skin. He walks slowly to avoid making any noise, the sound of keys hitting the granite of a kitchen countertop. Even despite how delicately he walks, the mass of his body makes the stairs protest lowly when his feet find them.

The man first goes to the bathroom, the light flicked on as he tries to avoid his face in the mirror. He is not the same creature that caused the blood to pool in his wounds, not the same monster with dirt caked under his nails – not here, he can’t be; not in front of her. He turns on the shower, body directed towards a corner of the bathroom while he waits for the water to heat, staring blankly at the space where the two walls meet, hands twitching, brain fighting not to think, the sound of static until smoke fills the room. The adrenaline still pumps through his veins, the wild-eyed insanity created by anger and a lack of self control, the rush of the final blow still stinging in the shaking of his muscles. The water turns first brown from the dirt adorning his limbs, then becoming a far more sinister red when he submerges his face and hands, he washes himself slowly, rubbing at his back and shoulders, the sweat off of his skin, the searing pain of smoking water near boiling scalding the back of his neck. He doesn’t allow himself to think, not now, not yet. He doesn’t hum or sing, doesn’t talk to himself, but instead thinks only of his actions as they happen or nothing at all.

He doesn’t know how long he stands under the water, so hot it scalds, burns off the sin and the disgust, scrubbing and scrubbing until he could feel himself beginning to cause harm, wounding, convincing himself he’s becoming clean until he forces his hand, stopping the running water. He stands even longer still, his wet skin freezing over in the silence of the steamed room. Finally when he finds himself ready, he dries off until he feels pristine, the wash of the shower head like a baptism into the form of a different man, a new mold built into his model. Only then does he look in the mirror, eyes meeting the reflection of a handsome man, a cursed man, a martyr only in the sense of self respect and fear. His eyes are tired, his face adorning new cuts and scratches, bruises blooming his sides under skin and over muscle. He aches all over. He bares his teeth at the reflection and it does it right back, a snarl of bright white, the bones straight and sharp, and his eyes so quickly become frightening. He turns away.

Odin’s face peers around the door of a new room, hands finding covers and the soft sound of a woman waking. She turns to him, her face telling of sleep and her lips turned slightly down in a frown, her hands finding his chest, wrapping around his torso, her face in his neck, breath fanning over that damn skin of his and she says, “Long night?”

His fingers trail down the back of her shirt, fingertips pressing to the small of her exposed back stretched between her clothes and he hums quietly, face buried in her hair, body melting and moving to fit hers more comfortably, grip tight to squeeze her form, to hold onto something solid, to find his anchor. “Always, baby. Go back to sleep.” He says in a low voice, something comfortable, something familiar there, as if he’s smiling. She makes a noise of acceptance, curling even further towards him, as if a safety, sinking even further as his fingers trail up and down her back, soothing, as to not allow her to be distraught. Delilah was always the one he worried about, not concerning himself with the rotting inside his own chest, the ache of something breaking within him. He fights with the inability to sleep while the rush of the night still feeds inside of him. He does not concern himself with what little is left of him because while he is with her he is safe from the part of himself that only consumes, he is not concerned with the fragility of his own being, not while he breathes in the heat radiating off of l'amore della sua vita.

Meanwhile, miles and miles away, something begins to rot under the cover of freshly turned Earth.

Extras: I made a tag for him a long time ago and haven’t touched it much since tbh but like I'ma probably add stuff the next few days so this 4 u: https://hypnosreigns.tumblr.com/tagged/character:%20odin%20bello

#accepted #accepted: othello

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dahniwitchoflight · 5 years

Text

Candy 24-28

Yeah interacting is one way of putting

I think the closer Meat and Candy come to eachother though the closer they’re both gonna self destruct

“It will stay here for millions more years, where it will remain indefinitely on a barren, desolate Earth C, waiting to host a single cherub child, chained to its bedroom. But for now, it hosts these three.”

Alright so Earth C doomed to failure confirmed, it needs to be a barren desolate wasteland if it’s gonna be the literal planet for Calliope and Caliborn’s birth

oh my god.

That’s why Gamzee raised the baby cherub

what seemed so out of character for someone like Gamzee to do so long ago now makes perfect sense

He thought it was his role to raise Caliborn in that stupid ass LE/Dirk philosophy

Aww, Terezi’s dying ):

Aradia and Sollux are acting as Alltie’s like, double attendants?

Is that like, a flipside of Gamzee’s whole mirthful messiahs thing where he is on LE’s Side?

I mean, Aradia is pretty 8D and Sollux is pretty D8 as characters

That was a really good conversation from Terezi and John

It really does like, firmly solidify to me that Terezi and John retconning the fact that Vriska died to Terezi’s sword way back then was absolutely the incorrect way of handling things

it’s the cornerstone for how things have been ripped apart all this time since then i think

when it first happened, it was tragic and necessary and developed the characters into a certain way of being

Terezi’s got depressed and into a bad state of being, so now, we’ve been given the flipside and shown what would happen if Vriska had been spared in that moment

and the answer is

the same goddamn thing, Vriska leaves her, Terezi can’t get closure from it and her life spirals downward from there

except here were sort of shown what might have been her saving grace, an actual system of support from someone she cares about, and someone she can support in return

what an actual relationship is actually supposed to be

the reason why constant relationships didn’t solve her problems everytime she made new ones is because they were relationships built solely on whims, feelings, maybe some physical passion

but none of them actually offered any actual support or companionship

wanting to love someone really really hard and wanting to be loved by someone really really hard doesn’t solve your problems no,

but having someone to help you through those problems and work on them with you does actually help solve problems

I think that’s the key difference here in asking “which relationship would “”fix”” Terezi” the answer being the only actual two-way relationship she might have ever had

Channel change time for Karkat

and an alive Meenah, I forget how that happened in Meat but eh

anyway next page

“But if he doesn’t care that much, and there’s nothing to it, then why does he do it? Why does he seem to put care into the nonsense he badgers her with? He supposes he could ask the same of many features of his life. Why does he care? Why does he put the time in? When you can’t shake the feeling that nothing here has much intrinsic meaning—or rings as “canon,” to drop a term he has to admit has worn out some welcome in his vocabulary—how does one justify even leaving the house? “

that phrase there, “Nothing Here has much intrinsic meaning -or Rings as Canon” feels like a double meaning

on the one hand, John is saying nothing in this world feels like it’s actually real

on the other hand, the phrase can be read as “There are no Rings of Canon in this world” as physical objects

and we just got done seeing a page about the Life Ring

I wonder if those rings are not also imbued with some idea of not just Life, but canon?

and if that’s the case

maybe the two rings really are each half of what would become the house juju cursor thing

going on with the symbolic metaphor of two opposite objects mutually self destructing and creating something new

maybe when you destroy both rings by bringing them together, in the wake of their destruction would form the original plot hole - the cursor juju, a literal canon shaping hole in the plot

it’s kind of like the idea of two similar dimensional things coming together to make a higher dimensional thing, themselves seemingly being removed from those lower dimensions in the process

like, what happens when you fundamentally merge two perfectly identical 2 dimensional circles?

you get a singular 3rd dimensional sphere and no more 2d circles

so what happens when you merge two 3rd dimensional circular rings?

a literal 4th dimensional “hole” in canon where they once were

that’s my thinking anyway

anyway back to John having a breakdown over Terezi’s death

man Candy sure is something, I can’t really decide which one I found more interesting Candy or Meat

I felt like there was maybe more to react to in Meat, but there’s interesting bits in Candy as well

oh damn though ten year time skip on the next page O.o

oh fuck we skipped the war and gone straight to the dystopian nightmare havent we

their curfew is 13 minutes after midnight??? that’s so odd, also that makes it either 12:13 or 00:13 however you look at it

oh look, It’s JohnVris 2.0

huh, Karkat and Meenah got a love story out of it too

Now I wanna see a photoshop of like, Big Boss or whathisface from metal gear but just like trollified and with karkat’s horns

So Candy is definitely representing this idea of a character’s potential for the kinds of story arcs they might have, no matter what ends up happening

John stepping into his dad’s shoes and becoming a loving husband and father

Karkat becoming a revolutionary against a twisted tyrannical planet

these individual story beats all fall in line with their characters and what they might have been, had sburb never have been involved in their lives in the first place, is what I think

Roxy pops out a baby and become a mom after having a romance with a dashing young man is basically Rose’s Mom Lalonde’s storyline

Rose eventually becoming a key figure in a rebellion on a tyrannical version of earth is the same story here on Earth C as it was in the history of Roxy’s original planet as HER Mom Lalonde

but its the context of the story that makes it different or not

but these core tenants of the kinds of things and choices all these characters would do doesn’t really change all that much when you strip them down into their simplest forms

so in a way, even though nothing here is canon, it’s giving the audience and idea of what the story would be like if it was canon, how characters might react or grow up to be and the potential they have for doing certain things

but doing that also takes away all the nuance and symbolism of why it’s relevant and important for each story, and context matters intensely

John seems to reconcile with Jade and Dave if he’s the best man at their wedding

and if Dave is marrying Jade and John’s here and their all okay and it’s being held at Jake’s mansion....

no their making it clear theyre siding with Rose and Kanaya, but not as much as they could be I guess

Damn Roxy, I expected better of you, really? But she’s honestly just trying to gravitate towards the thing that makes her personally the happiest, with no regard to how she’s throwing everyone under the bus, p selfish of her

and for real, she’s with the people she always considered her closest friends

Jake’s actually the one going against their grain the most, but that might be because the closest person to him is already dead, and then his runner up is viewing Jade as his alt universe grandma. his channel with Jane is ruined and well, Jake wasn’t close with Roxy or Callie

people just value certain relationships over others sometimes

damn this one ends on a really somber note though

extremely filled with nostalgia of missed potential

Candy is where nothing went right for anyone technically

Oh shit it’s real Vriska, who fell into the black hole in Meat yeah?

Yeah with the way shes screaming about needing to see what happens when you beat the final boss it’s that Vriska hoo boy

hilariously channeling the desperation of the people who read this when it first dropped no wonder though

I am noticing in Candy that despite more and more history being generated, I have less and less to react to

that one line though about what the passage of time must feel like to immortals, that feelings of what used to feel like a day now only feels like a couple hours, what used to feel like a week now feels like a couple days

time gets faster the more you live it

pretty soon a day will be but a blink of an eye for people like John

#Homestuck #Meat or Candy

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ryik-the-writer · 5 years

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Chapter 24 - Closing

[A03]

Chapter 1: Pan meets a Wendy Chapter 2: Scars (Felix’s Story) Chapter 3: Day One Chapter 4: Revenge and Fireflies Chapter 5: Brighter than Stars Chapter 6: filler: The Tigress Chapter 7: Operation Spotless! Chapter 8: Operation Spotless: Reporters Down Chapter 9: A Dance with the Devil Chapter 10: filler: Felix and the Pancake Chapter 11: The Girl with Blue Eyes pt. 1 Chapter 12: The Girl with Blue Eyes pt. 2 Chapter 13: The Girl With Blue Eyes: Underground Chapter 14. Recovery Chapter 14.2 Recovery some more Chapter 15: Trapped Chapter 16: Filth Chapter 17: Fairydust pt. 1 Chapter 18: Fairydust pt. 2 Chapter 19: The Mystery of the Dead Nun pt. 1 Chapter 20: The Mystery of the Dead Nun pt. 2 Chapter 21: The Mystery of the Dead Nun pt. 3 Chapter 22: Reflections pt. 1 Chapter 23: Reflections pt. 2

“Are you fucking done?” Pan demanded through clenched teeth.

Wendy struggled for air as she tried to reel in her laughter. “Sorry, really I am,” she gasped as she calmed. “I just…wasn’t expecting…” she motioned to his out-of-character ensemble.

Pan grimaced. How fucking humiliating.

“Bye,” he snapped, circling around her. He had half a mind to trash the flowers and just leave, but Belle’s deep blue eyes were already haunting him. He couldn’t leave her again.

So he kept his mouth shut and hoped Wendy would disappear.

“Wait!” she called after him, causing Pan to curse. “Are you going to see Belle?”

He stopped, sighing dirtily. “What’s it to you?”

“Can I come?” Wendy inquired as she circled to stand in front of him. “I’ve been meaning to check on her.”

“Do it on your own time,” Pan growled, moving to go around her. Wendy however used her body as a wall, and he collided into her during each escape attempt.

“I am on my own time thanks to you,” she reminded him icily. “Now either you can escort me to Belle’s room or I can spend the next week making your life a living hell, your choice.”

“You already do,” he muttered, but her sour frown kept him from egging her on.

“Just stay out of my way,” he ordered as he brushed past her, his flowers wilted in his hand.

Wendy followed triumph, though there was a vanishing spark of disappointment that he didn’t put up more of a fight.

Maybe it was for the best, she told herself. They did not need to create a spectacle in their current situation.

They stopped outside of a door that Wendy assumed was Belle’s, but Pan made no move to enter. She saw just how stiff his limbs had become and how tight his jaw had stiffened.

When she peaked over his shoulder she saw why.

“Stay back, Pan,” Sheriff David Nolan sighed, his exhausted eyes.

“The fuck!” Pan snarled.

“A precaution,” Nolan said. “I know how you get when you have nothing to do.”

“We’re just here to visit Belle,” Wendy jumped in to prevent a fight.

“Miss French isn’t being allowed outside visitors until her case is solved,” Nolan explained. “That definitely includes you two.”

“But she’s…” Pan began to protest, but abruptly stopped before the words could form.

Belle was a piece of himself that he had to bury in order to survive. Her disappearance had nearly broken him, and he had to numb himself when she suddenly came back alive. The exact circumstances of her disappearance were still a mystery, one that everyone was keeping their distance from. Even Belle’s exact condition was being kept under wraps, no doubt by Mr. Gold’s influence, though it was possible that Sydney had put a word in as well.

It puzzled Wendy that Pan had yet to dive into what had happen to her. She concluded that it could have been from exhaustion or from the immediate chaos that ensured right afterwards.

Still, he was here now, and hopefully it was solely for Belle’s comfort rather than to pursue a lead during their suspension.

He still hadn’t moved, and Wendy could only guess what was going through his mind. It was still a wonder he could go from ruthless and frothing at the mouth to being dumbfounded and woefully unsure of himself. It was such a rare site, and she wondered if Felix or Glass got to see him like this as often as she did.

But she learned instantly it wasn’t all emotion keeping him in place.

She glanced around Graham’s firm frame to find the thorn in both of their sides staring back at them, and keeping Belle just out of their view.

“Miss Darling,” Gold greeted with a cold tone, rising from the seat beside Belle’s bed, folding his hands neatly over his cane in a predatory-like fashion. “Peter.”

Wendy glanced at Pan when an animalistic sound struggled from his throat, the flowers in his hand now a crushed pile of stems.

There was the faintest hint of a grin on his lips. It reminded Wendy so much of Peter’s. Barely there, but visible enough to make one’s blood boil.

He was antagonizing them both. Stating his dominance with a simple gesture.

Make your move, he seemed to say.

Wendy seethed at his cockiness. He was the one with the horrible secret yet someone how she was the one with weight over her head!

Because really Mr. Gold is the one holding all the cards. He just convinced the police—hell, the town—that Mother Superior’s death was a suicide. Imagine what he could do to her.

What he could make happen to her.

Dropping the crushed stems, Pan shot from the room, nearly knocking Wendy into the next wall.

“Pan,” she growled.

Don’t leave me alone with him.

Heart pounding, she flashed a snarl to Gold before running after her fellow journalist.

“Who was that,” Belle whispered hoarsely from the bed. “They sounded familiar.”

Gold patted her hand as he retook his seat at her bedside.

“No one of importance, sweetheart,” he said.

Wendy nearly lost him when Pan made a mad-dash to the hospital roof.

“Pan, stop!” she called up as she scrambled up the stairs, struggling to open the heavy door behind him.

He was pacing hard when she stepped onto the roof, the heat from his unexpected rage hitting her even though she was several feet away.

“He did this,” Pan gritted, his eyes wild. “He did all of this,”

Wendy stood very still, watching as the concrete seemed to smolder under his feet.

He was cracking, and Wendy found it to be quite the spectacle. She’d seen him enraged, seething through his teeth at the source of his ire. She’d seen him irked and even scared just enough to remind them both that he was human.

But never torn at the seems like he was now.

He was wild, wounded, and Wendy did her best to keep a few feet between them. Just in case.

“What did he do?” Wendy asked, her own guilt weighing heavily on her stomach.

Pan turned to her, his face contorted with a myriad of different emotions. He looked like he had just run a marathon and gotten over a serious illness all at once. He was pale, his eyes shining like two emeralds.

“Pan?” Wendy gulped as he continued to stare at her.

He released a wet laugh and smiled at her, the softest one he’d ever given her.

It shook Wendy, seeing him so vulnerable. She’d only seen him at his hardest, when he would reel her in and spit her out before she even had a chance to get damp.

Even in the face of adversity—when he was beaten or drugged—he’d always had a sense of control about him.

But now he was crumbling and Wendy was utterly lost to keep him together.

“Are you…” Wendy breathed. “Um…”

“No,” he breathed jaggedly. “I’m not. This is…” be shook his head.

“Poppy cock?” Wendy offered.

“About,” Pan allowed, a hint of a smile in his eyes. “I’m fucking sick of this already,”

“We haven’t been suspended a full day yet,” Wendy joked, hoping to lighten the setting.

Pan simply seethed, his mind spiraling with incomplete thoughts.

Wendy bit her lip, unsure where to go from here. Pan wasn’t reasonable by any means. With matters that managed to touch his withered heart, there was no telling how he would react.

Still, she had to take a shot. They still had much to discuss.

“We need to talk,” she said. “About before.”

Pan slammed his hands on the railing preventing him from falling to his doom.

“Bloody hell. That’s all over and done with.”

“No, it’s really not,” Wendy scoffed. “You caused a lot of damage. To me, to Tink, to the whole town.”

“Glad you got to witness the extent of my ability,” Pan snarked.

Wendy groaned. The smart thing would be to walk away and avoid him for the next six days. But he needed to know what he did to her, and really, how he didn’t have to.

“Bottom line,” Wendy sighed. “You didn’t have to go behind my back to get that story published. You could have told me why you wanted to do it. What she did to you.”

Pan laughed bitterly and rolled over to face her, his eyebrow cocked up in amusement.

“You still wouldn’t have done it,” he said. “You don’t have the stomach.”

“You might have been surprised.”

“Ha! Damn right I would have been,”

Wendy rolled her eyes. “Look, my point is that you don’t have to push me out. We’ve been through a lot together. We’ve been injured side-by-side, talked.” She swallowed. “We’ve gotten to know each other. And maybe we’re not friends, but we’re something. And we’re close enough that when we work together, we survive, and a lot comes out of what we do.”

Pan, surprisingly, remained quiet as she spoke, as if her words were actually sinking in.

Though Wendy wouldn’t hold her breath.

“So the next time something big like that happens,” Wendy shrugged as she prepared to leave. “Let me help you. Don’t isolate me.”

She gave him a forced frown and headed to the door. She had all of that off her chest, and now she could rest with that part of her turmoil. Hopefully such passion would work on Tink.

“You’re right.”

The words didn’t immediately sink into her brain. Did Peter Pan—town demon and constant source of her migraines—just tell her she was right about something?

She turned around, hungry to hear the words again.

Pan looked pained, his jaw threatening to lock up.

“We work well together,” he admitted, more whole-heartedly than he wanted to admit. “So…will you assist me with this?”

Wendy gaped at him for a moment. “Um…with…what?”

He looked past her to the hospital where the demon Mr. Gold waited, calculating their next move.

“I don’t want to sit around the next week. I…” he gritted his teeth, hating to be so raw in front of her. “I want to pick up where we dropped off everything,”

Wendy crossed her arms, staring Pan down in amusement. “We dropped off in a lot of places, Pan. I spent most of my day recounting them all.”

“Then let’s start from the beginning,” he said, stepping closer. “Let’s close all these cases we turned our backs on. De vil, Jekyll, anything that’s still open. That we opened.”

Wendy gulped, a flash of Jekyll’s rotting face blinding her.

“What if we can’t close them,” she asked. “What if they aren’t meant to solved?”

Pan scoffed. “Then we’ll find a way. Peter Pan always does,” he tilted his head. “What about you, Wendy Darling?”

Wendy cleared her throat uneasily. Even when they were attempting to get along he would try to intimidate her.

“I want to close these stories off as much as you,” she said, meeting his eyes with glowing confidence.

He smirked, the familiar light of mischief returning to his face.

Thank. God.

“Then it’s settled,” he announced excitedly. “We’ll meet at my place tonight and get stated.”

“Tonight?” Wendy scoffed.

“Did you have anything better to do?” he teased.

“No,” Wendy rolled her eyes. “I’ll see you tonight then.”

“Right,” he returned, his smile becoming gentler. “Until then.”

Wendy couldn’t suppress the grin that spread over her face as she exited the roof. Even passing by Gold and Belle’s room didn’t damper her spirit.

She and Pan—after nearly two months of hissing and spitting at each other—were finally getting along.

They’d probably try to rip out each other’s throats while working on their cases, but for the time being she could relish in the fact that they were on mutual ground. That he was listening to her and willing to work with her.

Maybe it wouldn’t fix all the damage between them, but maybe it could create some much-needed healing.

So enthralled with the concept of the future, she didn’t see the patch of ice that the dropping cold had laid out just outside the hospital.

She didn’t have a chance to resist it, and she already felt the sharp pain the asphalt would bring before she even hit the ground.

But she never did fall, as a pair of arms caught her around the waist before she had the chance.

“Easy love,” a lightly accented voice laughed as he pulled her to her feet. “There are easier ways to injure such a pretty face,”

Wendy wiggled from the mysterious man’s grip, her adrenaline demanding she panic.

She swirled to lay eyes on her rescuer and met a pair of the iciest eyes she’d ever seen.

She instantly thought of Belle’s, so disturbed by all they’d seen that they looked through their target.

These however looked right at her.

Like, really at her.

He was staring at her like he knew her, his mouth slightly agape.

“I…thank you,” Wendy breathed, demanding herself to relax. Not every person who lurked in the shadows was a monster, she reminded herself.

Just almost everyone.

And she made sure that she had a clear path to an open business just in case he struck.

The man blinked and flashed her a bright toothy smile.

“I apologize for staring, dear lady, I just wasn’t expecting such beauty,”

Wendy chuckled. What a line! This man was obviously used to seducing high-class woman, and certainly had the charm and good looks to do it.

Blue eyes, a gorgeous smile, and silky black hair? Who wouldn’t fall for that?

Her.

“What were you expecting from someone about to bash their brains in?”

The man laughed good-naturedly. “Something much differently, I assure you.”

Wendy smiled. Charming indeed.

“Well, maybe you’ll find it later on,” She teased. “But if you’ll excuse me, I have prior engagement,”

He nodded, taking a respectful step back. “Of course. I do apologize for keeping you.”

“No, not at all,” Wendy returned, almost hating to have to walk away.

Almost.

“Maybe I’ll see you around,” she offered half-heartedly.

“I believe you will,” the man nodded. “Good night.”

“Bye,” Wendy breathed, her heart skipping a beat as she (much more carefully) walked away. It occurred to her that she hadn’t asked his name, or even that he offered it.

Peculiar, but not totally unsettling.

The man didn’t take his eyes off her until she was safely around the corner.

He chuckled as he rubbed his chin and made his way to the cozy bar tucked into a nearby alley. If there was any time for a celebrator drink, it was certainly now.

The bar, thankfully, was near-empty, with only a few poolers moving about in the corner.

He signaled for a beer before pulling out the gently used and lightly damaged beeper from his inner coat pocket.

He hummed in irritation when he saw that he already had a message. Couldn’t a man get five seconds of peace?

Did you find the targets?

The man licked his lower lip. He certainly had.

One of them. He replied.

Did you really think I was going to do a DP fic without Hook. Scoff.

Yeah, I wanted to include him long before, but the show really ruined him for me and I had to do a cleanse. I actually liked him before S4, but…yeah. So I’m going to have to do some soul-searching to figure out just how to write him.

Christ in heaven give me strength!!!

#darling pan #darling pan fic #wendy darling #peter pan #ouat #ouat fic #papers and sleuthers #ryik's fics

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 5 years

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Caramel Skin Under A Vanilla Sky prt 35 full draft

This... This wasn't possible. Sitting in the pilot's chair, trying to manually override the shuttles automatic programming, Lance's heart was pounding almost as fiercely as his head.... and the rest of his body. Keith knew about his finger, but he didn't need to know about the rest of what had happened in that room before he was brought in. There was a reason he wasn't in the same clothes he'd in, and it wasn't just due to the blood from losing his finger. The samples taken from him of a much more intimate nature, because for some reason they knew about his body's "abnormalities". They hadn't gone past probing, but it'd been enough to send him into a panic attack. When they didn't know what to do about it, they'd drugged him up and brought Keith in. Yet, all of that had been pushed aside when he'd seen the dead Altean laying on the floor of the shuttle. The man hadn't looked like that when he was cuffing the other officers together... He'd still looked buff and foreign to him, not being a Galra... but an Altean. Lance had no idea what to do. He wasn't stupid. He knew that there were good and bad people, no matter what the race was... but... he just couldn't... he had no idea what this meant. Lotor had rounded up all the old Altean's to form his new colony, and something about the dead man screamed at him that he wasn't from new Altea. He didn't understand... He really... just... "Lance?" And then there was Keith. Keith who was his whole world. Keith who'd they hurt and Keith who thought he'd murdered the officers on the shuttle. Not that he could blame him. He was a murderer, and he wanted to slaughter everyone who'd touched Keith, but... the look on his face. Lance had never seen something like that... at least not on Keith's face. It'd broken his heart, and nearly sent him spiralling. No. It had sent him spiralling... He was lying to Keith, or rather not telling him the truth because there was literally nothing that could change what had happened in the outpost. There was a dead Altean in the shuttle bay. Keith was hiding how badly busted up he was, and how painful his wrist must be... oh, and they were probably about to die... "Lance?" Nudging his foot with his, Lance winced at the contact. He'd gone from craving Keith's touch, to not being able to handle anything against his skin again "I'm here" His wrapped up left hand made tinkering with wires hard. He'd already been shocked and was sure he'd lit the edge of his bandages on fire in the process "I couldn't hail Shiro or my mother, I did send messages. To the Atlas, and to Daibazaal. If Kolivan's there, he'll coordinate with her" Shiro. Shiro and Krolia. Lance didn't know how he was ever going to face the pair of them again. "Shame" and "self loathing" failed to describe what he felt about the pair. They were the most important people in Keith's life, despite what he might say. They held the most sway over Keith, and both were fiercely protective of him. And now he'd been tortured, kept prisoner, and was sporting some pretty serious damage to his wrist... What if what they'd done to him spelled the end of Keith's work for the Blades? How was he supposed to live with that? He'd been prepared not to come back from all of this... He couldn't go through with Keith to think of. He had to get him home safely and back to his family. It didn't mean Lance didn't believe Keith loved him, but things were going to get messy. No doubt Shiro would lecture him for being reckless. Krolia would be mad for endangering Keith. Veronica and Hunk had to know he'd been lying through his teeth about his job, and Acxa would probably be plotting his death despite the fact Veronica would be mad. Actually. No. They were probably plotting his death together... Going back to all of that wasn't appealing at all. "Did you hear me?" "Yeah. Sorry. I was concentrating on these wires" Another lie. He had no idea what he was doing under there. He'd had to shoot the dash half a dozen times to create a hole big enough for him to get into the wires as it was "Is there anything I can do to help?" "No. To be honest I've never had to climb under the dash of one of these. All these wires look the same" They were all black. He could trace them from the controls, but then they disappeared down into the floor where he couldn't get to them "Come out then. We've got about half a varga until we reach our destination. You need to get changed" So they were going with his plan? Lance had zero confidence that they'd be accepted as officers. Both their body types were wildly off. Keith had the height, but failed on the width. Lance had neither. He also wasn't able to stand upright properly thanks to the pain from probing between his legs. Unfortunately none of their escort were carrying any sedatives or drugs the could used to take the pain away. When he failed to reply to Keith, Keith grabbed by the ankle and pulled, Lance barely able to stop from kicking out in defence at the action that sent his pain ricocheting through his abused body. Everything hurt so badly he didn't know how he was still conscious. Coming out from under the dash, Keith was holding his ribs as he straightened up, reminding Lance that he couldn't show any more pain or discomfort to his boyfriend. He needed to pull on his mask and play Leandro. Leandro could do things that Lance could only dream of. Leandro could save Keith, where as Lance would only slow him down. Maybe there was something on one of the officers he could use to hide his face. He felt naked without his body suit, and ashamed of the flickering marks on his cheeks. He'd copped a glimpse of them in the cold metal under the dash, the pulsing blue almost as cruel as Allura who was standing off to the corner with her arms crossed. She'd already scolded him for his behaviour, talking right over Keith as Keith tried to comfort him. He wanted her gone again. He wanted his head freed of her voicing all his horrible innermost thoughts. It wasn't fair that he had to see her, not when he was in this much pain... and not when there was a dead Altean in the back of the ship. She'd never have understood that Keith killing the man had been accident... She would say she would, but he knew better. Biting the insides of his already chewed up cheeks, Lance was slightly proud that he managed not to moan or groan as he climbed to his feet, brushing past Keith as he headed into the back of the shuttle to prepare. They only had one shot at taking the enemy by surprise, so he had to bring his A game. No matter what it cost him, he needed to save Keith. * Dressed in a stolen uniform, Lance had found a black strip of cloth to cover the lower half of his face with. It didn't hide the shaven part of his head, where they'd taken some kind of sample from inside that he really didn't want to think about, but it did hide his ears and muffle his gasp of surprise. Everyone had called the "satellite" a satellite. Having never been there, and given that access was limited to those who worked at the outpost, Lance never imagined it would be as large as it was. With a main planetary body, of glowing purple, in the middle of the station, various walkways extended out to man-made rings. Despite appearing fixed to be fixed in place by said walkways, the rings also appeared to be rotating, though that wasn't possible. "Are you seeing this?" Given he was right beside Keith, the question was stupid "Yeah... I never knew it was so big" "It's a hell of a lot bigger than I expected it to be" "That makes two of us. It's supposed to be Galran in origin, isn't it?" The ion canons mounted on the four "points" visible to them, would confirm that argument "I think so. I don't know about the planet though" "I guess we're about to find out" Cutting through the artificial lights and the darkness of space, a tractor beam was projected from the planet. The shuttle shuddering as it was caught in its beam. This was it. This was go time "We should get in the back. You've got the three blades, don't you?" Keith nodded "Yeah, and the blaster" Shiro hadn't replied, neither had Krolia. With all the hinky time stuff going on out in this sector of space, Lance had no idea how much time had passed for either of them. Or for his team. Daehra wasn't going to be happy "Good. Remember the plan?" "If it moves, take it down. But try to stay out of sight" Keith sounded like he'd repeated the words a million and one times. They hadn't been able to get to the control room of the outpost, and with how wounded they were, they were now focusing on escaping rather than capture. Thought that plan might have to join the others in scrap heap because he had no clear idea how the quiznak anyone could possibly escape when the place looked like death. Maybe they should have just enjoyed the ride in the back? They wouldn't have been subjected to the crushing doom that was flooding through them right now. Lance liked to pretend Keith was feeling just as uncertain as he was, despite the fact Keith had probably done the very same thing in nearly matching circumstances before. He knew his accidental husband had issues with satellites after the Kuron thing, so knew that there was no way Keith was feeling as cool as he looked "Yeah. Right. Let's get ready" Coming to a stop in a small hangar, the door lowered to show no one. Literally, no one. Staying where they were, all Lance could hear was a buzzing noise that had started the moment the ramp had dropped. To him it sounded like ants scurrying around inside his brain. A busy kind of humming that set something inside of him on edge. Waiting on Keith, Keith gave a nod "I'll take lead" Leaving his blaster powered up, Lance nodded. Slipping out the shuttle, Keith scanned the area "It's clear" This didn't make sense. There should have been someone there to great the shuttle. The officers were hired goons who shared a braincell between them. Even a teaspoon was smarter. Not unbelieving of Keith, but rather the situation, Lance raised the blaster to survey the air with the scope. There really was nothing in the docking space... nothing at all "Lance?" "No targets..." Something nagged at him, and it hit on his third sweep of the area "There are no other ships in this hangar... We're going to need to find another way out" Swearing softly, keith ran his fingers through his hair, before scratching at the back of his head "Ok. We'll get up to those gangplanks and follow them through. Hopefully they'll lead to a main corridor or a vent grate" "You have an obsession with vent grates" "It's all about finding what works. Can you make it up the stairs?" One each side of the room was a set of steps leading up to long thin gangplanks. Off centre to the left was what looked like elevator doors. The Cuban was tempted to throw caution to the wind and go for the elevator, yet had no confidence in his own decision making skills "I'll have to be fine, won't I? Let's head out" This was nothing like when they'd drunkenly played at being secret agents on the Atlas. Lance's legs burned, and it was growing increasingly hard to draw a breath. By the time they were halfway up the steps, he was sweating so profusely that he was wondering if this was how Coran felt with a case of the "slipperies". Still, he kept his mouth shut and ignored how good Keith's arse looked as he pressed on. Leandro didn't have time to ogle his teammates. Reaching the top of the steps, Keith immediately turned left to head back along the gangplank towards the elevator. Wiping the sweat out his eyes with bandaged hand, it wasn't until a few ticks later that he could make out what seemed to be a door at the end of it. Trust Keith to find the answer to the question before it was even asked. This is why everyone needed Keith, and no one needed him. He was useless on his own. A failure as team leader, and a failure of a boyfriend. Stumbling on behind Keith, he couldn't get rid of the buzzing or the voice in his head, so chalked them both down to him going through withdrawal again. He'd only taken the bare minimum with him when he'd met up with Th'al. Hiding his injections from her had been awkward, and he'd barely had enough for the trip. All of this was something that had come to mind without invitation and was now spurring on that voice again. God. Why couldn't he stop being a nasty little bitch? Right. Withdrawal. He'd brought all of this on himself. Reaching the door, Keith tried to the handle. Both of them blinking in confusion at the blue light that bathed the corridor ahead of them. It reminded Lance of the ocean... only this blue light was coming from status pod after status pod... that looked eerily like the rows of status pods in the castle... with a sharp, almost mechanical grating noise, the pressure in his head swelled all at once, Lance stumbling hard into the closest pod as both hands went to his head. Something wasn't right. Something wasn't right with all of this... Grabbing Lance by the wrists, Keith pulled his hands away from hair as Lance whimpered. The sounds in his head becoming less like busy worker ants and more like a muddled conversation he couldn't tune into. Released by Keith, he next found himself pushed up by the shoulders against the pod. His boyfriend's lips were moving, but he couldn't hear anything over the noise. Shaking his head, Keith didn't get what was happening "I can't hear you!" Lance had no idea how loud the words were, only that Keith flinched, so he was probably yelling. Starting to speak again, Lance shook his head again at the half-Galra "Something's wrong. We need to go" Releasing the pressure against Lance's shoulders, Keith stepped back to grab up the blaster and push it into his hands. Pointing along the hall, Lance nodded that he got that that was the way Keith was leading them. Moving away from the pod, some kind of guilt niggled at him over being pushed up against what was essentially someone's grave. Turning to look, he found himself eye to eye with a withered Galra. He knew he should look away, but the Galra's eyes were open and he physically couldn't break the connection. The glass between them sliding up, though Lance didn't know. His body seemingly paralysed on the spot... Gradually an image filled his mind, so real that it became his reality. Keith was laying in pool of blood. The Galra missing most of his right side. His internal organs spilling out from where his hands tried to hold them in. Hacking up blood, Keith raised his head to gaze in Lance's direction, bloodied lips forming words that Lance shouldn't have even able to hear perfectly "You did this to me" Five small words that had him screaming. In front of him, a shot came out of nowhere, Keith's brains blown across the ground he was laying on. All at once, everything disappeared. Lance looking down to find blood splattered across the stolen uniform and the Galra dead at his feet. "Lance? Lance, are you back with me?" Swallowing hard, Keith's words were slight clearer, even with the ringing. Had Keith raised his voice, or was this related to the now dead Galra? "Yes... I..." His whole body trembled. He could see Keith in front of him, like the lingering image of whatever that had been had branded itself in his brain. Tilting sideways, Keith caught him before he could hit the ground "What happened?" "You died. You died right there" "Babe, I'm not dead. But we're going to be if we don't move" That... his heart was racing. He could smell blood. He couldn't... Keith like that... it was a very real possibility "Babe, breathe. I'm ok" Keith was starting to fade out again as the buzzing began to grow again. When his boyfriend pulled on his hand, forgetting the whole finger thing, Lance let himself be pulled along. This planet... wasn't a planet... this wasn't right... Pod after pod passed. The lights too painfully familiar. Running into Keith's back, Lance span back to face the way they'd come. If they were being attacked by an enemy in a frontal assault, Keith would have released his hand and charged. Behind them, half a dozen withered aliens stood facing them. Lance beginning to feel himself being drawn into their gazes... images of Keith starting to push into his head. Ripping his gaze away, he hit his left hand back against Keith's leg, focusing on the pain and using that to break the lulling spell "Don't look at them!" Keith didn't move behind him. Spinning back, Lance threw his right arm in front of Keith's face to break his line of sight. All at once, Keith let out a sob and fell to his knees "Don't look at them. They show you bad things!" "Lance..." Ignoring the burning in his legs and the way he landed poorly as he dropped to kneel, Lance looped an arm around Keith's chest and pulled him up, aiming the blaster at the knee of the alien in front of them before firing "Lance..." "Keith, keep your head down, we need to move!" "You were... you were bleeding out... you were pregnant and bleeding out... I... you" "Yeah, buddy. I saw you dying... This ship, its Altean. It's not a planet at all. I can hear something in my head... like it's calling out to me" "Oh god... that was..." "Not real" Telling Keith firmly, Lance dragged him forward "I can walk" "Ok, but don't look them in the eye..." Firing and striking blindly, the numbers were overwhelming, leaving them with no choice but to fall back into the first room that was unlocked. Slamming it behind them, Lance kept his back against it. It was strangely reminiscent of the outpost. People trying to kill them, and the while taking cover in the first room they could. Thankfully no one was hacked to pieces, and there weren't any blue canisters either. The space was clearly a lab, with a clear pipe running down to a stopper over a work bench, inside sat a minimal amount of blue shimmering essence. Quintessence. He didn't need to go any closer to know. Coming to his aid, Keith locked the door by shorting the control panel next to it with one the stolen blades. A control panel they both knew from the castle "This place is Altean?!" Lance nodded, pushing off the door to use the momentum to reach the chair near the work bench. Sitting was a horrible idea, his muscles protesting, but he needed a moment "What the hell is going on here?" Why ask him? Lance had no idea either. This place was supposed to have been under Galra control. It was supposed to have been converted after the end of the war to an ethical containment facility. There was nothing ethical about the withered husks that were chasing them. There was nothing ethical about the tube feeding into the lab they were in. There was nothing ethical about the assault on his mind "Lance?" "Give me a tick" "We don't have a tick. What the quiznak is going on here?" "I don't fucking know! So shut up and let me fucking think!" Snapping at Keith filled him with shame, but Keith had honestly asked for it by pushing. He didn't have any answers for him "This is an Altean ship! Those were Altean pods!" "I know!" "Those people..." "Shut up! I know!" "Did you know about this?! About Altean's involvement?!" Lance balked "What?" "Did you know about any of this?" "How the fuck would I know any of this?! I've never been here!" His head was killing him. The yelling felt as if someone was cleaving an axe into his brain. Closing his eyes, the tried to bring himself back under control, but instead the world span behind his eyelids, and he found himself throwing up in his mouth. The needed off this satellite. No. This ship "Alright. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I can't believe Coran would sanction something like this" Swallowing hard, Lance chose his words carefully, not able to explain the way the ship was calling out to him "Coran isn't behind this. I get the feeling this ship isn't... new" "Isn't new?" "I think it might be an original Altean ship" "Then it'd be over ten thousand years old" "I know. I know it sounds crazy, but I feel it. Like that Altean. He felt old. I can't explain it. You probably don't even believe it..." "I don't see how it could have lasted that long" Keith had a point. Lance, however, couldn't do the brain. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he forced himself not to shake his head and send his world spinning again "If this is a ship, there has to be a command centre" Oh no... "Keith..." "If there's a command centre, we can..." "No" "Lance, we can call out for help. Hell, we might be able to fly this thing out of here" "No!" "If we don't..." "If we don't what?! We agreed we were getting out of here. We agreed on that. Now you want to go on a suicide mission. I'm barely standing. You're barely standing. We have aliens who were prisoners here that are out of their pods, trying to kill us both. And neither of us are in peak condition" "Lance, we owe it to the people who disappeared..." "Don't..." "To Kre'el. To Helo. To Guile!" "We can't fight like this!" "We just have to make it to the control room. Once we take command..." "Are you fucking serious?! They've probably sent their main army there!" "There's no one around..." "Which is suspicious as hell!" "We can't let this ship..." "So you care more about everyone else, than you do about me?" Keith stopped mid-fight. His eyes narrowing, knowing exactly where Lance was going with this "I didn't say that" "No, but you want to die" "I don't want to die" "This is literally a suicide mission!" "Not if we can get the ship running..." Was Keith blind? Or simply desperate "They have fucking ion canons out there!" "Then were screwed anyway... what have we got to lose?" "You! I've got you to lose!" "And I've got you! I don't want you to die! I don't want to die! But we can't stay in here..." The pounding on the door was only growing, as were the number of sounds in Lance's head. He couldn't do this. It was a terrible mission. They were going to die "I'm taking point" "Lance..." "If I have..." With a loud bang, the door buckled inwards, the lock wouldn't be holding for much longer "I'm taking point and I'm going to get both of us out of here alive. You're going to get your chocolate. I'm going to make sure of it" Groaning at Keith, now wasn't the time to be thinking of chocolate and lazy cuddles in bed "Fine. But you're fucking explaining to Shiro why we didn't just escape" "I'm sure he'll understand... are you ready?" Ready to rush into their deaths because they didn't know where they were going? Sure. Why not? "Ok, Samurai... I'll follow your lead" Closing the space between them, Lance was baffled at what Keith was doing until his boyfriend reached out to cup his face. His eyes staring into Lance's, like he was searching for something "I know you're hurting, but we're going to end this. I love you, Sharpshooter" "Really? You're going to declare you love me right now?" "If anything happens, I want you to know that" "Then let's make sure nothing happens. I can't let my idiot boyfriend die" Keith raised an eyebrow "Boyfriend?" "Husband. Boyfriend. Whatever. I'm still pissed at you, and this plan is fucking awful, but I still love you the best I can, you annoying pain in the arse" "I know babe. I'm going to make it up to you when we get out of here, so you better be prepared to be swept off your feet" Lance's brain short circuited. A weird kind of smile on his lips that only Keith could cause. Who would have thought the emo kid who couldn't control his emotions would have ever grown into this perfect man in front of him? "I'll take that as yes. Don't forget to keep your head down" "I won't... Don't forget to stay safe" "I won't..." * It was only a matter of time before the withered aliens grew too numerous. Keith taking a blow to his already tender ribs and laying the half-Galra out in front of him. Blood from some unseen wound staining his hands as he pressed against the spot. Lance wasn't fairing much better with the pressure in his head. He had no idea where they were, only that thankfully the pods has ceased opening, but they were still being herded through the ship with no idea how to reach their target. He hated having to shoot to kill, so was aiming for the legs of the aliens as much as possible. This also meant having to drag Keith along at angle that was liable to do him in at any moment. He'd barley been able to drag himself along, let alone his boyfriend. Forced to fall back another two corridors, Lance didn't realise his mistake until his back hit the wall of the ship and he found there was no where to go. Every hall looked the same; a stretching expanse of blue with pods lining both sides holding their sleeping prisoners for what was supposed to be eternity. Hiking Keith up in his arms, Keith groaned at him from having his bleeding wound disturbed. Mumbling something at him, Keith found the energy to push him against him, both of them losing their balance, only to find themselves suddenly falling backwards. So not a wall? Confused and winded, Lance gasped as he tried to draw in breath, his vision swimming as he tried not to pass out in pain. Through watery eyes, his vision swam as he was blinded by the yellow light above him. What the quiznak had happened? Before he could form any chain of intelligible thought, hands had grabbed him, pulling him to his feet. To his side, out of sight, Keith was yelling. Probably suffering the same treatment as him. Beneath them came a hum, Lance's stomach dropping for a moment before dimly realising they were in an elevator of some kind. Not a standard elevator, but some kind of service elevator. The grate and the hum was too loud for a passenger elevator, and a red light had begun to flash above him starting as the floor lowered. They should have just stayed holed up in that lab, and shot anything that came through the door. Keith wouldn't have been stabbed if they had. He promised to get him home in one piece. Not one piece and dead. When the hum of the elevator servos died, the red light above pulsed twice before turning off, doors opening in front of them... but there was no shoving push out the space. The feeling of hands fading as if they'd never been there... This ship was seriously messing with him, Lance finding no one behind him, despite the fact someone had clearly pulled him up. No. Someone had pulled both of them up. Keith was leaning heavily against the elevator wall, Lance unsure if he was talking or not because of the noise in his head. Limping over to Keith, Lance pulled Keith into him. God. He was going to sleep for a fucking phoeb once they got out of here. Pulling Keith out of the elevator, Lance stared with wide eyes at the various ships in the hangar in front of them. The space stretched far beyond what Lance could see. Ships from what would be every era lay there like they'd been forgotten. Drag-limping Keith along, Lance moved them towards the nearest ship. Thick dust covered the windows, but the ramp was down and Keith needed tending to. It damn near killed Lance getting Keith up the ramp. Barely able to keep Keith from falling face first to the floor as he lower him down as gently as he could. Coughing from the dust stirred by them, Keith grabbed at his side. Despite the uniform Keith was wearing being predominantly black, there was a clear difference in shades where Keith had been stabbed. Kneeling down beside his boyfriend, Lance pushed his shirt up. Whimpering at the sight of Keith's bruised and busted chest. The handle of one of the knives they'd taken has splintered and stabbed into Keith's side. Mumbling softly, Keith was more out of it than with it, but as his lips mumbled "Lance", Lance felt a surge of affection for him that nearly had him in tears. Keith needed to come first. No matter what the cost. They'd gotten enough answers. This ship was Altean. There were bad Altean's out there. Their motives unknown but couldn't matter less when Keith was laying there bleeding beneath him. Using one of the two knives Keith still had, Lance cut the cloth he'd been using as a mask nearly in two, he needed the extra length to fit around Keith's chest, but if he'd cut it all the way he would have had to knot it and loose precious centimetres from the length. Cutting, then ripping, he ruined the shirt he was wearing as he turned it into a pad to place against the wound sight, before having to fight off a cranky Keith to get the black around him and secured into place, feeling guilty about how tightly the fabric was cutting into his love's soft light skin. With his own bandaged hand, it took nearly a varga to complete what would normally be a simple task. The dressing was rough and crude, but it'd do its job and that was all Lance could ask for. Repositioning Keith on his side, Lance forced himself back down the ramp as he looked for a way out of the hangar. They couldn't shoot their way out, then fly to freedom. The ion canons would blow them up within ticks. He also couldn't carry Keith any further with him. If they tried to hole up and wait for safety, his brain was likely to turn to hoop and pour from his nose with the pressure within his skull. Swearing softly, Lance turned back to the ship where Keith was. If he could just... make sure Keith would be rescued... Fuck... There was too much to do and no time to do it. He needed to head back up the ramp... and he needed his blaster back. Returning to the inside of the ship, Lance undid the communicator from Keith's wrist, hoping it was the one he'd called Shiro from. The signal would give them away, but what choice did he have but to hope that someone would hear his pleas for help. Thumbing his way through the devices menus, he pulled up the call logs, the last number had to be Shiro through logical deduction. He didn't want to see Shiro, let alone hear his voice, but Keith needed him. Hitting call on the device, nothing happened. Hitting call over and over, nothing happened. The signal must have been blocked by ship, because the device seemed to be in functioning condition. Nearly screaming, he forced himself not to throw it. Placing it down with Keith, Lance dropped back against the bare wall of the ship's loading area. He couldn't call for help... Keith was going to die and he couldn't do anything fucking right. Covering his face with his hands, sobs erupted from the Cuban suddenly and violently. Keith was his whole fucking world. He'd pushed himself to absolute limit and now he wasn't even able to move. They were going to die on this godforsaken ship where no one knew where they were. His parents were going to get the news that he and Keith were missing all over again. He'd ruined their lives over and over. He'd scared his cousins, Nadia and Sylvia. Screamed himself stupid every night and woken the whole damn house up. He jumped at every touch and didn't feel like he belonged at home anymore... but he didn't want to just die and leave his mother like that. He didn't want to die and leave Shiro knowing he was right, that Lance was completely useless and worthless like Kuron had said over and over. But his body wasn't healing like it did. Everything hurt so damn much. Even being stupid while leading the team, he hadn't taken damage like this. Even crashing back into Keith's life literally, hadn't hurt like this. What hurt worst out of everything was that none of this would have happened if he hadn't run away.

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lettersofsky · 5 years

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DistantPastZine - The Summoner - Names Die While Legends Linger

So I was given the amazing opportunity to write on the recently released @distantpastzine and now I get to post the pieces I wrote for it here ^_^

Rating:Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning:Major Character Death Fandom:Homestuck Characters:The Summoner (Homestuck) | Darkleer (Homestuck) | Grand Highblood (Homestuck) | Spinneret Mindfang Additional Tags:A Dash of Depersonalization | Implied Pale Summleer Language:English

` A bit of an introspection into what it becomes to stop truly being someone and become something before the end. `

You are The Summoner.

That’s the only name that really matters anymore.

Your true name, your first name, the name you chose for yourself upon your first pupation trying to make sense of what your lusus called you, and carried with you for most of your life, it’s lost to you now. Far too long since you’ve used it for yourself, since anyone else’s used it in reference to you. Mindfang had preferred your title, most everyone preferred the name you fashioned for yourself at the beginning of your rebellion. Except for… but he’d left long before the end of things, running when it had all started to take a turn for the worst for all of you; the number of trolls that returned from missions grew lesser and lesser, supplies started to dry up, allies disappeared and turned against you. You hadn’t blamed him, couldn’t blame him for it because maybe… maybe Rufioh Nitram would have done the same thing, at one point in time.

But that didn’t really matter did it? It didn’t matter that ‘Summoner’ wasn’t your true name. Rufioh Nitram wasn’t important in this story, he’d already departed this world, had left when Mindfang had urged him to drive his lance clean through her torso, words honeyed sweet and comforting in his skull even as her breath grew wet and horrid with the blood in her lungs, urging him forward, onwards, you can do it I want you too…

Rufioh Nitram had perished then, with his matesprits body cradled in his arms, bleeding out from the merciful blow of his lance.

It was The Summoner’s turn today.

The Summoner’s battle was lost. Your war, your rebellion, over and the Highbloods all the more enraged for your part in it, for the lives of their that you brought to a sudden and abrupt end with all of the care they had ever shown you and yours. They were demanding your execution now and the most care you could give that notion was relief in that it wouldn’t be… wouldn’t be Darkleer firing the arrow at you, you’d had enough of quadmates culling each other for the perigee. You would consider it a small kindness from the cruel world you existed in, but one you were glad for all the same.

Currently, you were awaiting your escorts, alone in your dark cell, no window to allow in light or fresh air, leaving you cut off from the world but for the barest hint of light that crept under the door that allowed you to just barely be able to see the details of the room around you with your warm-blooded eyes. It’s nothing impressive, the only thing of interest around you the markings left by prior occupants; claw marks of varying lengths and desperation, some steady and deliberate in the walls as trolls attempted to guess at the passing of time and others messy and frantic on the floor, marking the final desperate struggle to deny, to escape the fate that was awaiting them at the hands of the Highbloods dragging them from the safety of the cut off isolated room. You swear you could smell where terror and hopeless resignation had sunken so deep into the walls it’s permanently stained the still, stale air around you.

You have nothing to do in here, nothing to keep your hands or thoughts busy so you can allow yourself to think, to think and dwell on things for longer than you’d ever let yourself at any other time. You don’t know when the Highbloods will come to drag you out of your room before the infestation your army hadn’t culled from the face of Alternia.

So you have the time to do it, you have the time, the opportunity, to think.

…

You can’t recall a time Mindfang ever used your true name, at least not before she’d been guiding you through the motions that would finally release her from her mortal coil, which is more the pity because you would have liked to hear it in her voice, in her actual voice and not the echoing, all-consuming facsimile of it in your skull. It would have sent you spiralling, free-falling into the reddest pity for her, her finally seeing you as more than The Summoner, more than the image of a general, more than the matesprit that would take her life from her.

You think, you would have liked if she saw Rufioh. Maybe you could have come to know her underneath Mindfang’s smooth talking and weaving web of influence.

… But maybe that was just the fantasy of a wriggler that still wanted so much to be wholly seen and not found lacking despite his… abnormalities.

It didn’t matter, the past was dead and gone and Mindfang had only cared for Summoner, Rufioh hadn’t even been a blip on her radar.

But Darkleer… he’d given a damn about Rufioh. He’d taken your name and kept it close to his pumper, breathed it from his lip like it was something important, something deserving to be spoken into the air and allowed to hold attention and regard in their lives. Darkleer… he’d ensured that you knew that there would always be time to just be Rufioh when the expectations of The Summoner grew too much from your ill-prepared shoulders to handle, he gave you time and a place where you could put aside the clown’s movements, the mounting body count of your army, the looming knowledge that this was useless, futile, doomed, and you could just be Rufioh for a few minutes. Rufioh who loved the lusus that taught him to fly, Rufioh who had hid his mutation even though his shoulder’s and wing stubs ached from being bound so tightly and so long, Rufioh who’d worked endlessly, tirelessly just to make things the tiniest bit easier for whoever came in after he left.

He’d let you be a troll when you’d started to forget what that was like, you were so grateful for that. So very grateful to have had that for the brief period of time he’d stopped being terrified of stepping out of place and earning your culling ire and you’d let yourself trust the turncoat’s traitorous heart long enough to relax into his regard. Darkleer had liked your name, had liked speaking it, saying it when nobody else did and keeping it like it was something precious that was wholly his and wasn’t that such a pitiful thing? To hold so much pride in being given something so small, so minute and insignificant?

But then you’d… you’d felt the same at being given his name in return. A name kept by monsters and stripped away from him so that he’d be nothing more than another cog into the Empire’s spiralling machinery.

Which was a shame because Horuss was such a good name.

You’d used it when he’d left, just like he’d used Rufioh when he’d requested forgiveness, soft and quiet directed towards the earth with a difference that turned your stomach and made you all too aware of where you both started out. But you’d already forgiven him, forgiven him when his brows refused to unfurrow and he started to walk like a hunted creature at the edges of camp again, forgiven when you’d found his makeshift hive dark and abandoned like he’d only been a ghost you’d been imaging to help you deal with everything and…

Horuss had tried, had tried to make you understand, stuttering and stammering, losing his words amongst sharp clicks and noises of panic and distress you hadn’t been able to ease, you hadn’t wanted to… to touch him, to shush and calm him and reassure him that he could get out the words that would tear apart your trust in him would only shatter you both and you had wanted… You’d wanted to protect that bit of you that was still Rufioh and not The Summoner so you didn’t, you held yourself still and waited as he petered off, Horuss’ voice dying in the space between you both as you did your best to hold both Rufioh and Summoner in your head at once.

The Summoner’s decision should have been to put an end to the turncoat, to stop him from leaving and potentially leading the Highbloods back to them in order to garter favour or forgiveness or any other logical reason that would have made him well-justified in his actions. But Rufioh…

You’d let him go, you couldn’t ask him to stay with you, couldn’t ask him to potentially watch you die even if it would have soothed something in you to have him there to watch your back and potentially die for you but… but he deserved more than that.

You wanted more for him than that, he deserved to have his ending separated from the Highbloods that had controlled his life and while The Summoner should have brought the Expatriate to heel and finished him for his desertion, Rufioh couldn’t do that to Horuss.

You hadn’t asked him to stay. You hadn’t impaled him for daring to leave.

No.

Instead you’d reached out and up, not too much he was still directing his whole form towards the dirt beneath your feet in a futile hope to disappear into it you knew, to touch him, to bring his forehead to yours and in the light of moons not yet risen you’d wished him the best of luck and a kind death when it eventually came for him. You’d thought yourself strong, you’d believed that you’d be able to bare this with all of The Summoner’s fortitude but then he’d slumped against you with a noise that sounded so much like physical pain that Rufioh was brought low by it. You had a stray, wild thought that perhaps he’d falter, that Horuss’ resolve would shatter like the windows of cathedrals but he hadn’t, far stronger, far weaker, than that and oh how you had pitied him then.

He’d left you standing there, alone and overlooking an army preparing for what was more than likely gearing up to be their final few nights of existing and you… you hadn’t been able to watch him go, you couldn’t bring yourself to do that to yourself. You’d tucked Rufioh away then, he wasn’t needed with the Highbloods drawing closer and an army looking to him for guidance. Rufioh may have been the one to scale the hill to confront Horuss for his decision to leave, but it was The Summoner and Expatriate that took their separate ways down.

The Highbloods had descended upon the camp within the few nights, meeting an army prepared for them and with nothing to lose but the very breath in their lungs and the very rights to existence they were all fighting so desperately for, freedom and equality and right that should have been theirs as much as it was the Highbloods despite how much warmer they were than the others. The Highbloods may have been the ones to emerge victorious from the battle, but there was no denying the blood it had cost them, a small victory hollow and spiteful amidst a tremendous loss, but one you were going to keep close and warm in your pumper up until they stole the life from you. It was nothing and it was petty but it was wholly yours in this story, an achievement you would be proud to carry to your grave.

The Summoner – Rebel Scum and Culler of Clowns

You’d been captured at that battle, captured instead of killed there as a warrior amongst your comrades and companions, brought hundreds of miles in order to be made an example of like The Sufferer before you. A warning to the rest of your kin on the lowest, warmest, most fragile and cruelly treated side of the hemospectrum so that they would not attempt to fight against the ways of The Empire again.

There was no place for Rufioh Nitram amongst that.

You were The Summoner now and you were about to be executed for daring to want something more for, not even for yourself really (it was hard to want anything for yourself when you could barely settle on a ‘yourself’ to want for) but for those of yours that weren’t in any place to want or hope for better themselves, for those who’d been told from the moment they could comprehend it that they’d never be anything more than tools to be used and thrown away once they were deemed ‘broken’ by those who thought themselves so much better than them simply because of the colder, bluer blood than ran through them.

The door to your cell opens and it is a sudden burst of agony to your senses.

The slow grinding of moving rusted metal pierces ears adjusted to silence and you vainly attempt to cast your eyes away from the dramatic increase of light as it’s finally allowed inside, it’s too different, too sudden a change after spending however long you had in the dark, it takes you longer than you want it to for your ears to stop ringing in the renewed quiet, still echoing with the sounds of metal slowly grinding against metal and for your eyes to clear of the igure shaped-shadow amongst a door way of burning light imprinted upon them.

You hate that you have to wait to see the faces of whoever it is that’ll be escorting you to your ending, it’s a good tactic you’ll admit but you hate it all the same. You blink as things click back into processing the world around you as they’re supposed to and you feel your pumper free in your chest at the image being fed into your brain.

Where you’d expected to see faceless nobodies, unimportant and uncaring there to complete their task and nothing more, instead you lock gazes with the Grand Highblood himself, leader of the Clown Church, main authority of the land and all around complete and utter bastard.

The very same troll who’s orders you’d defied all that time ago at the start of this whole endeavour.

You can… barely even recall back to that point in time, it feels like so, so long ago, like a whole other life and maybe it was because it had been before you were The Summoner, something a lot of trolls just liked to gloss over and pretend never existed.

But you think… you think he might have been ordering you and your squad off on some mission, run of the mill what with the Alternian Military all falling under the Clown’s orders at some point or another with the Empress spreading her Tyranny through the stars. But it’d been different because, because it’d been impossible, you’d known it was an impossible endeavour he had been trying to sent you all off you but he hadn’t cared to listen to you, hadn’t given a single solitary fuck that he’d wanted you and yours to just throw your lives away for nothing when there was a hundred other, better, solutions if he had just let go of his pride long enough to just listen, admit to the fact he didn’t know everything about everything.

And you’d just… you’d had enough.

You hadn’t walked into his throne room with the intention of revealing your mutation, not even in your most horrific sleeping-terrors had the thought even crossed your mind, and you certainly hadn’t expected to be able to just escape him and his mirthful pack of rabid attack dogs. The dragon had been a neat bonus though, even if more than a handful of trolls insisted she was very haunted by the recently deceased Neophyte, you would allow that is was a neat haunted bonus.

And from there? It had only escalated and you’d never even had the tiniest want to consider stopping any of it.

You hadn’t even been expecting to see the Grand Highblood again, or at least you’d hoped you wouldn’t ever see him again, not in this life or whatever counted as the next one, but there he was in all his… questionable glory.

You lift your chin and bare your blunt, Lowblood teeth at him, wings flaring out as much as they’re able with how they were restrained and you make it clear to him that as much as you’d bound and at every possible disadvantage you will not go down easy if he’s planning to just kill you here and now. You’re not going to fight the fate you’ve been handed in life, you’re not that stupid and there’s nothing left for you anymore, but there’s no way on Alternia that you’re just going to let him put an end to you where no one could see without so much as a fight.

A name’s breathed into the tense air of the tiny room and you feel yourself freeze; breath stolen your lungs being squeezed tight in your chest.

The Grand Highblood just said your true name.

You don’t… don’t know how he knows that name, you don’t get it there’s just no possible way he could have remembered it after all this time, you’d been a nobody then there’s no reason for him to have known it in the first place let alone remember it up to now.

Rufioh hadn’t been worth remembering, not until after he’d become The Summoner.

Your pumper’s frozen, still and aching in the hollow of your chest, throat tight and a chill stiffening your spine that you know has nothing to do with whatever chucklevoodoos he may be using to put the fear of him into you. You’re left just staring up at the giant, hulking form of the Highblood as he steps further into the room, taking up all the free space of it and not even bothering to give you the dignity of pretending he has to worry about you attacking him or, even more unlikely, escaping, which is more than enough to make you snap back into focus because fuck that.

You snarl at him, lips pulling back over your teeth even as your wings attempt to spread further in a display made ineffective by heavy, piercing chains. He doesn’t react at all to your threat, he just rolls his eyes and scoffs at you like you’re some wriggler trying to stand up to a troll fresh from their second adult moult and continues to draw closer and closer still until you have nowhere else to go, nowhere to retreat to with how tightly you’re pressing your back against the wall. He kneels in front of you, giving no thought to the fact that he’s putting himself so close to your teeth and fangs, like you’ve never been a threat to him, reaching out to grasp your chin in a single, blood-stained giant, clawed hand and holding you in place despite your struggles to free yourself of the grip.

You’re trapped now, the wall’s at your back pressing your wings uncomfortably close to your body and his hand is a freezing iron vice holding you in place and you hate it. You try to snap your teeth, growl as much as you’re able to in your position, well aware that it holds absolutely nothing to the noises Highbloods are able to create but unwilling to be caught not trying to all the same. You will not let him look down upon you more than he already is, you won’t.

He opens his mouth and his words are low, slow and coiling in your think pan and it makes you flinch back as much as you can.

He wants you to repent, to beg and plead his forgiveness, the Empire’s forgiveness, for going against the Empire in the way you had, to the extent you had. He wants you to play into his sick amusements by turning traitorous and turncoat yourself to all you’ve worked and strode towards to get to this point in time at your inevitable end, to cast aside The Sufferer and his teachings from your pan and pumper so that you may be spared and allowed to continue to draw breath into your lungs.

Save your own filthy, mutant hide.

Escape the execution block and the mass hollering for your blood to paint the walls of the very church he disgraced so long ago.

Become nothing more than a doll he can claim to have re-attached the strings to and become Rufioh Nitram again, loyal worker, subordinate, his play-thing in all the ways someone like you should be.

It’d be so easy, he promises you, soft and quiet and so very persuasive. So easy to just fall into place like you should.

But…

Rufioh Nitram had been the one who started all of this.

You were Rufioh Nitram when you cast aside your position and told him that you were not going to throw away your life or the life of any of your squad for something so incredibly stupid as a troll who wouldn’t listen to reason and you were the same troll now. The same troll and more besides, no matter what this clown thought of you.

You are no doll, no clown’s play thing.

You are Rufioh Nitram.

You are The Summoner and yours is not a story that continues past tonight. Yours is not one of great importance or regard, not meant to continue past it’s point, not meant to linger and over-stay the welcome you were so graciously given.

No.

No, yours is nothing but a steppingstone, a secondary chapter to what was already started by The Sufferer, The Signless, before you. A precursor to what the generations to come will continue with pride in their pumpers and fire in their eyes and you are not going to let this clown ruin any of that. It is not his place any more than it is yours.

You are The Summoner and you spit in the face of the Grand Highblood for his offer, proud and defiant as you ever were in life, yours might be nothing more than part of a bigger story but you decide how your life draws to its close.

And when you are taken to meet your ending point, bruise blossoming large and bronze on your face, you have eyes only for the highest of purples trained upon you. You don’t look to the crowd of ravenous, cull-thirsty faithful around you, only him.

Your story ends here, but with your death the Signless’ message lives on.

You are just the first of the rebellions he will influence and nowhere near the last.

You go to meet the Handmaid with the certainty of that seared into the very core of you.

#distantpastzine #Homestuck #Summoner #The Summoner #Fanfic

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breegullbeakreviews · 5 years

Photo

My hopes and dreams may have been dashed by the Jim Carrey who stole Christmas and a Tony the Tiger’s luchador cousin, but we still have DLC to look forward to. Here are my out there and not so out there ideas on who should join the roster in the Smash Pass.

Rules: No echos. The announcement claimed these types of new fighters won’t be a part of the pass. This doesn’t mean a new fighter may not come bundled with an echo of themselves, but these types of fighters won’t be a part of this list.

Also no Assist trophies. As much as I want Spring man and Ribbon girl to punch in I don’t see them replacing or removing an existing assist trophy to add a character in.

Fighter: Banjo & Kazooie

I am still holding onto the dream. The duo of bear and bird are tied to the Nintendo 64 despite no longer being owned by the big N. Phil Spencer is down to get Banjo in the game so the only real question is if Sakurai thinks they are worth adding. As far as Nintendo wanting them, it would only be if some deal was worked out for the N64 classic. I’d assume both announcements would be near one another.

I’ve gone over their endless potential for moves before and that hasn’t changed. Grant Kirkhope killed it on the soundtrack for these games so there are plenty of tracks to choose from. The only real question is what the stage will be. Smash is usually inspired by stages more often than it copies a direct area, so in that regard I think Spiral Mountain would probably make the most sense. I think the Rusty Bucket has a lot of potential as well, but if the idea is to go for something iconic I think you have to go Spiral Mountain.

Fighter: Doom Slayer

Not giving up on this one either. Odds probably aren’t great though. Doom is a very western franchise and not one super linked to Nintendo, and let’s not even get into the violence and religious aspects. The one thing it has going for it is that it is a very important franchise to the history of gaming and Bethesda seems to be on good terms with Nintendo. Doom Eternal is coming to the Nintendo Switch so it could be a cool marketing move to drop this fighter in to build up hype.

Just because he wouldn’t be a Snake echo anymore doesn’t mean he doesn’t have potential. The Doom Marine has plenty of weapons to pull from in his past games and it wouldn’t be too hard to pull some from the upcoming Doom Eternal. I also don’t think it’d be much of a stretch to give the Doom Marine an echo fighter in the form of B.J. Blazkowicz. He is equally important to the history of first person shooters. Doom Marine would certainly get the stage though as Nazi Germany isn’t something I see getting shown off in Smash. A space station on Mars with maybe a transition to hell seems perfect for a stage.

Fighter: Lara Croft

Odds are if we get another Square Enix representative it would be Geno, but Lara Croft is another major gaming icon, just again more western focused. She has appeared on Nintendo consoles so the only issue is coming up with her moves, and I don’t have many ideas for this. Her combat style is very weapons heavy, but she doesn’t have much that would work for close range at least from my experience with the franchise. Like Doom Slayer, I only see Nintendo green lighting this if we are getting some Tomb Raider title on the platform before February 2020.

Stage wise Lara Croft has tons of crazy set pieces to draw from. I assume the stage would be a tomb of some kind with plenty of hazards and maybe even a guest appearance by the iconic T-rex. Lara has plenty of costumes to pull from. If one major thing keeps Lara out it’ll be her moves.

Fighter: Geno

People want Geno. I am not one of those people. I have never played Super Mario RPG, and unless it comes to Nintendo Switch I probably never will. I really have nothing else to say except that I think he is rather likely to be in the game as DLC. Geno could be tied into a remaster or rerelease of the game on Switch, but it is possible Nintendo will just bring him in because fans want him.

Fighter: Shantae

Being a spirt does not preclude one from being a fighter. Despite having yet to review it, I was a backer of Shantae: Half-Genie Hero despite having zero history with the franchise. Shantae has history with Nintendo. Debuting on the Gameboy Color Shantae is a mix of traditional platforming and some metroidvania mechanics. Now I’m sure plenty of people would be pissed if she got in over Shovel Knight, but I think she has a lot more to offer.

For one thing we don’t have another fighter who uses their hair. That alone will give her some interesting standard attacks. She also has a plethora of magic and transformations that could make for an interesting set of special and smash attacks. As far as a stage goes I think the central town would be the best representation of the series as a whole. Maybe have part of the stage feature a dock so that Risky Boots can dock.

The music in the latest game is fantastic. You could bring everything over unchanged and it’d fit in. Every track has a beat that makes you want to get up and dance while still getting across the mood. Overall I don’t think Shantae’s chances are great. Mostly because she is an indie character and she’d be pretty obscure for Nintendo to pick for one of five DLC fighters. Let’s just say I’m not holding my breath on this one.

Fighter: Dixie (& Kiddy?) Kong

Another much more likely fighter with a ponytail. I have not played a Donkey Kong game featuring Dixie. I also don’t like the Donkey Kong Country games, though I do like DK64. That all being said I understand people want Dixie in. She is one of two playable characters in DKC2 which is regarded as the best of the trilogy.

Now why did I say Dixie and Kiddy? Well I think there is potential to make Dixie unique by having her nephew help out in some way. One thing that neither DK nor Diddy get across is the weird health system of the old games. If a Kong is hit you switch to the other one who was running alongside. I think using that relationship between the two could make Dixie really stand out. That being said I could also see her coming in on her own. Potential have it be a Zelda/Sheik style swap.

Now I also think there is echo potential with Tiny and Chunky, though I think it’d be more likely to have s singular Dixie have Tiny as an echo than getting all four. Dixie’s single ponytail versus Tiny’s two could change the range and speed. People talk about Tiny as Dixie’s replacement so I don’t think it’s a stretch. I have no idea what sort of announcement this could tie into. Maybe another DKC game or a DK64 remaster.

Fighter: Gen 3, 5, or 8 Pokémon

I expect this would be a gen 8 Pokémon over a gen 3 or 5 one if only because outside gen 1 additions new fighters have been from the latest generation. Melee added Mewtwo and Pichu. Brawl added Pokémon trainer and Lucario. 4 added Greninja and Ultimate is adding Incenaroar. Who knows what Pokémon it’ll be, but I’m for a grass type.

If we do roll back to gen 3 I’d hope for Sceptile or Grovyle. We need a fully evolved Grass starter in the battle. As far as gen 5 goes Emolga would be a third electric type but it’d be interesting to have in there with its flight and thunder. Outside that maybe Krookodile. I’d also not be opposed to a new Pokémon Trainer as long as the Fire starter isn’t the third stage. Ideally it’d be Tepig, Dewott, Serpirior or any combination if the Hoenn starters without Blaziken.

If the stage is gen 8 I don’t know where it’d be obviously. As for gen 3 the Sky Pillar could work, but I would not be opposed to a plethora of locals. Fortree city, and Mt. Chimney come to mind. I think Shoal cave could be interesting using the games internal clock to change the stage with the tide. Gen 5 I’m not picky. Mostly because I hated gen 5 and forget almost everything about it.

Fighter: Fire Emblem: Three Houses character

I actively do not want this, but knowing Sakurai it’s possible that we will see another anime sword boy or girl. With Nintendo selecting odds are lowered, but it is still a possibility.

Fighter: Tetris Block

Yes I watch GameXplain. I think this might be a bit far outside the box for Nintendo to pick, but if a Gameboy Classic is in the works this is some easy cross promotion with the system’s killer app. Music is obvious. Having the stage be a game of Tetris seems to be obvious. If the Tetris block is a fighter the stage would need a different art style than the character. Don’t ask me how it’d fight. Only Sakurai truly knows.

Fighter: Steve & Alex (Minecraft)

Most people know Steve’s name, but less know Alex. This is again Microsoft owned, and outside getting representation from the second bestselling game of all time, I don’t know what would compel Nintendo to select them as fighters. Stage wise the possibilities are endless. In a world of blocks and biomes it is hard to pick just one. I could see a stage divided into multiple areas like Delfino Plaza. I could also see a destructible stage that rebuilds like Luigi’s Mansion, though maybe not always the same way.

Move wise the two have a lot of tools, potions, and blocks to pull from. If a Creeper doesn’t show up here or as a stage hazard, than it needs to be an assist trophy. Music may be an issue. The music doesn’t seem like it’d transition well to battle music.

Fighter: Tails

I have never owned a Sonic game. I am not a Sonic fan. That being said with Shadow out of the picture I think Tails could be a great addition. From what I know of the character he seems to be more about verticality than speed. He also has gadgets that could make up his final smash.

As for a new stage maybe pull something from Mania or Forces. I assume most of the music is already going to be in the game so that might be an issue.

#super smash bros ultimate #smash pass #video games

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megamanxfanfics · 5 years

Text

S.V - Ep. 8: Conflicts of Interest

------------------------------------------------------

INT. PLANETARIUM – Gateway - DAY

------------------------------------------------------

Caption: 1:00 PM – Egyptian Time

X walks through a gateway toward Dark Necrobat’s Space Laboratory with a firm grimace on his face.

X: (v.o, thinking) Zero... Please be okay.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

INT. REPLIFORCE AIR BASE – Gateway Airlock - DAY

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Caption: 11:00 AM – UK Time

Zero walks through the Airlock towards Spiral Pegasus’ air fleet. When he opens the next shutter, he finds a fleet of green airships passing by.

ZERO: Hmph. Looks like they’re on the move.

He watches ship after ship pass by until one spots him and starts to fly closer.

ZERO: Oh no ya don’t!

Zero fearlessly dash-jumps on top of the airship and hitches a ride.

ALIA: (o.s, filtered) Zero!! Are you crazy!!?

ZERO: (annoyed) Shut up, Alia. I don’t have time for you…

He immediately cuts off the feed from his ear-piece. Then, he notices Spiral Pegasus fly over to him with a discerning look on his face.

SPIRAL PEGASUS: I’ve wanted to see you, Zero…

The Skiver points at him with a grimace as he descends down to the airship. Zero slowly rises to his feet and gives him a focused look.

- cut to –

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------- INT. SPACE LABORATORY – Dark Necrobat’s Lair - DAY --------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Once the shutter opens, X enters a Space Laboratory and sees a series of mysterious incubation and fermentation tanks. Above him, swaths of batton bones appear from the dark shadows of the ceiling. They disperse to reveal their master, Dark Necrobat, who lets out a horrible wrenching squeak.

DARK NECROBAT: WHREEAAAA!!!!!! I’ve been waiting for you!

He flips in mid-air to an upright position.

X covers his ears in pain and looks up at him with displeasure.

X: HEY! Can’t you understand the urgency of our situation?

- cut to –

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------- EXT. REPLIFORCE AIR FLEET – The Skiver’s Challenge - DAY ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Spiral Pegasus lands on the airship and folds his arms.

SPIRAL PEGASUS: I wanted to ask you something… My thoughts always come back to the Colonel. I wanted to ask you if the battle between you two was necessary…

- cut to –

------------------------------------------------------------------------------- INT. SPACE LABORATORY – Dark Necrobat’s Lair - DAY -------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dark Necrobat lets out another awful squeak.

DARK NECROBAT: GROOAAAAA. Who cares?! I don’t take orders from anyone! The word ‘Sigma’ means nothing to me!

X gasps.

X: (desperate) Then, listen to me for a second. This is no time for a fight.

- cut to-

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------- EXT. REPLIFORCE AIR FLEET – The Skiver’s Challenge - DAY --------------------------------------------------------------------------------

SPIRAL PEGASUS: (continuing) I’m not accusing you of anything. I just want to know. That’s all…

Zero closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

ZERO: (calm, upset) You of all people should already know… The whole Repliforce War was unnecessary…

Spiral Pegasus takes in a deep breath and nods in agreement with a crooked frown.

SPIRAL PEGASUS: Well, it’s too late now… The damage has already been done.

- cut to -

X looks up at the Bat Maverick with pleading, respectful eyes.

X: Please… I need to borrow a Fuel Tank.

DARK NECROBAT: Grooooaaar!!!! Not my problem.

X: It will be, if that Eurasia Colony crashes into the Earth and you didn’t help me stop it!!

Dark Necrobat sneers at X and shakes his head.

DARK NECROBAT: (piercing, foul) NREEEAAAAR! This wretched Planet is already doomed. I’ve been observing this World for the past 3 years… Whether you are Maverick, Hunter or Human, we are all to blame for this Planet’s Destruction.

X: Noooo! We can stop it and save Earth, if you’ll just help me!!!!

DARK NECROBAT: HYAAAHAHAHAHAH!!!!

-cut to-

------------------------------------------------------------------------------- EXT. REPLIFORCE AIR FLEET – The Skiver’s Challenge - DAY -------------------------------------------------------------------------------

SPIRAL PEGASUS: (resigned) I’ve already been infected by the Virus. I’m destined to be retired by you once I become a Maverick, so go ahead. Take me down… I want to fight you for the Colonel and Iris… That’s what they would have wanted.

Zero closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, calmly nodding in agreement.

ZERO: (honorable) I understand. But I’ll fight you only because this is my mission.

- cut to –

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ INT. SPACE LABORATORY – Dark Necrobat’s Lair - DAY ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

DARK NECROBAT: (laughing, continuing) Hahahah! –and what makes you think, I’m interested in Saving this World??? In situations like this, everybody dies – Mavericks and Hunters alike. But since you came all the way here, I’ll just kill you myself!

X: (disturbed, aggravated) Hmph. I’ll destroy all Mavericks, like you!

DARK NECROBAT: RHEEAAAAARRRRR!!!!! I’m always ready!

X quickly picks up his buster and charges up.

X: Good!

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------- EXT. REPLIFORCE AIR FLEET – The Skiver’s Challenge – DAY ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Zero slowly raises his saber and holds it up with two hands.

ZERO: Now… let’s do it!!

[Insert Title Card – Conflicts of Interest]

Zero runs towards Spiral Pegasus, who swiftly turns back into a loop to gain momentum. The winds accelerate Spiral Pegasus, who puts out two hands in a charging dive towards Zero.

ZERO: Whoa!!

He jumps up when Spiral Pegasus reaches him and manages to knick him in the back of the shoulder.

SPIRAL PEGASUS & ZERO: Agh.

The high winds cut Zero as he lands, while Spiral Pegasus favors his shoulder.

The two turn around to face each other.

Zero takes a slash, but Spiral Pegasus uses a swift dashing afterimage of himself to knock Zero all the way to the end of the wing.

ZERO: Aughh.

SPIRAL PEGASUS: Careful, Zero... You don’t want to lose to the Repliforce like this.

- cut to –

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------- INT. SPACE LABORATORY – Dark Necrobat’s Lair – DAY ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

X: /Hyah!

X fires a piercing charge shot at a 45 degree angle, which catches Dark Necrobat in the chest.

X: Yaaaaaah!

X flies up to him and punches him in the face.

DARK NECROBAT: (hurt) NGRAAAAAHHHH!!!!!!!!!!

He pushes out two arms and summons a swarm of bats to fly after X.

X: (surprised) Aughhh.

The swarm of bats try to cover X, but they are all destroyed by his protective aura.

DARK NECROBAT: Grrr/RAH!!!

He rushes over to X with his talons and forces him down to the floor.

X: Aghhh… You..

DARK NECROBAT: (squeaking) Skreeehehehehee!

-cut to-

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------- EXT. AIR FLEET – Spiral Pegasus’ Challenge - DAY ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

ZERO: Hmph. I’ll never lose to you!

Zero regains his footing and runs after Spiral Pegasus again.

SPIRAL PEGASUS: So be it, Hunter.

Spiral Pegasus dives after Zero once again, but this time Zero anticipates his movements. He blasts him with two half-charged Z-buster shots, then at the last moment, he performs an F-Splasher. From mid-air-dash, he raises himself just above Spiral Pegasus’ shoulder, so as not to ram into him.

SPIRAL PEGASUS: (hit) Urgghh..

He wavers back for a moment and shakes his head as Zero lands and /stabs him in the back.

SPIRAL PEGASUS: /Hooot!!!

With a gritty grin, Zero eagerly slashes Spiral Pegasus three times at his back.

ZERO: /Ha! /Hyah, /Haaah!!! How do ya like that, Skiver?

He gives him a harsh kick in the back.

SPIRAL PEGASUS: (hurt, annoyed) Huuurgh! Dishonorable /FOOL!!!!

He turns around and /fires a twirling Wing Spiral at him.

ZERO: Whoooaaaaaa!

The tornado takes hold of Zero and quickly throws him off of the Aircraft.

- cut to –

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------- INT. SPACE LABORATORY – Dark Necrobat’s Lair - DAY ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dark Necrobat holds X down to the ground with both feet planted on his arms.

X: Aggggkk.. Damn, you!!!

DARK NECROBAT: Rheeeeheeheeheehee!!!!!

ALIA: (o.s, filtered) Try using your Giga Attack, X. It might be the only way out of this.

X’s eyes widen at the idea. Then he closes them tightly, and unleashes the power from his core.

X: Hh/Yaaaaaah!!!!

Suddenly without warning, a stream of piercing laser charge shots emit from his body. In his immediate vicinity, the lasers rise up and rain down upon Dark Necrobat at a 90 degree angle.

DARK NECROBAT: (damaged) Aaaaaaggghhhh!!!!! What.. the.. Heeeelll was thaaaat!!!!!?

Dark Necrobat steps back and starts to float up in retreat as he hunches over and huddles his own chest.

X rises to his feet with a valiant look on his face.

X: If you’ve really been paying attention, you’d know that I am X – a reploid with Limitless Potential!! Now take this!!!

X’s armor shifts into orange as he unleashes a Flash Laser, gained from Izzy Glow. The firefly inspired missile has a long trail of laser-light, which X is actually able to direct with a Neural-link from the late doctor’s smart technology.

X wills for the laser missile to fly right into Dark Necrobat at a 45 degree angle. The laser follows through and bursts right into his stomach.

DARK NECROBAT: (hurting) Urrrr-gg-gg-gg-gg-gghhH!!!!

The laser-light trail inserts itself within Dark Necrobat’s stomach, only affecting him more, after the fact.

-cut to –

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------- EXT. AIR FLEET – Spiral Pegasus’ Challenge – DAY ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

ZERO: (hurt, scared) Aaaaaaaaaaaaaggggggggghhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Spiral Pegasus narrows his eyes at Zero and swiftly flies over to him.

He rams against him in mid-air with an uppercut to the face.

ZERO: /Awh!!

Spiral Pegasus swiftly flies away and doubles back, as Zero falls again. This time from the other angle, Spiral Pegasus dives downward and checks him with the shoulder, making Zero spin violently in mid- air, as he helplessly plummets downward.

At last, Spiral Pegasus takes pity upon Zero and falls at the same rate at him. With an after-image Wind Shredder, Zero is knocked far back among the winds and shoved on top of another Aircraft.

He spins and topples along the wings, feeling damaged and dizzy upon his landing. He throws up almost immediately on the roof of the Aircraft.

ZERO: (vomiting, coughing) Euuooghhhhh!!!!! Ff-ughhhh. Huhh.. Haggghkk!

He tries to cough to clear up his throat as Spiral Pegasus folds his arms with a smirk.

SPIRAL PEGASUS: (mocking) Ohhhh my, Zero… Tisk, tisk!

He shakes his head and floats towards his position.

SPIRAL PEGASUS: Come now… I thought you were better than this.

Zero grits his teeth and powers up a dark, purple hand.

ZERO: I AM!!

He plants his fist into the Aircraft and unleashes his Messenko Giga Attack.

SPIRAL PEGASUS: What the-!?

The Aircraft immediately erupts as the attack itself catches Spiral Pegasus directly in the front-section.

ZERO & SPIRAL PEGASUS: AAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

Zero attempts to double jump in the air and use an air-dash to reach another Aircraft, but to no avail. This time he is falling further below.

Before long, suddenly everything goes red and he feels himself teleporting. In an instant, he is back on top of another Aircraft; one that was not far from the explosion.

Zero looks around amazed and surprised. He quickly turns his com-link back on.

ZERO: Alia, was that you!?

ALIA: (o.s, filtered) It sure was. Now either calm down and focus, or next time I’m Force Teleporting you straight home. You got that!?

Zero is surprised by her demeanor, but it actually makes him smile.

ZERO: (respectful) Yes ma’am!

- cut to –

Dark Necrobat hisses and floats further away from X into a high corner of the room.

DARK NECROBAT: How daaaare you disrespect me in my place of dwelling!

He takes a deep breath and unleashes a deafening sonic wave of power.

DARK NECROBAT: (shrieking) RHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

X: (hurt, affected) Awwwwhh…

X desperately covers his ears as three closely-knit rings of sonar waves near him.

ALIA: (o.s, filtered) Get out of there, X.

X: (hurt) AGH! Trying!! Don’t talk, it Hurts!!!

X shakes his head and tries to dash away, from the sonar ring. He takes flight and manages to hover above it, but Dark Necrobat summons a second sonar ring, and then a third one.

X narrows his eyes, with his ears still covered tight.

X: (v.o, thinking) Damn, he got me good. My only play is to fly around them and let my barrier do the work, but that won’t last! (aloud) Shoot!

X manages to get around the second one, but the third one covers him.

At once, X feels a sudden burst of pressure from within his ears, and then a heavy ringing slowly occurs.

X: (hurt) AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

DARK NECROBAT: Aaahahahahah. AAAHAHAHAHAH!!!!! And now… You’re mine!!!!

He powers up to his fullest as he becomes surrounded in a dark aura of his own.

- cut to –

Spiral Pegasus lands on the new aircraft, where Zero has teleported. He points at him from afar.

SPIRAL PEGASUS: That was a neat little trick you pulled, but don’t count on it happening again.

ZERO: Oh don’t worry. I learned my lesson. This time, my saber is all I need.

SPIRAL PEGASUS: Hmph. And this time, I’ll just let you fall.

ZERO: (smirking) Come on!

The two run after each other once again. Spiral Pegasus performs a swift dash, while Zero retaliates with a brave Electric-Blade uppercut.

Spiral Pegasus gets cut across the chest and shocked from within as he rams into Zero.

SPIRAL PEGASUS: (shocked) Aggggkkkk!!

Zero gets back up and tries to perform a fearless air-dash of his own to capitalize on the punishment. His F-Splasher is stopped short and overpowered by a spiral-covered fist, however.

SPIRAL PEGASUS: Grrrhaa.. Not this time, Hunter!

ZERO: (grumbling) Urrgghh. Aghh.

Zero shakes his head and gets back up, while Spiral Pegasus cricks his neck.

SPIRAL PEGASUS: This time, I’m going to end you for all the pain you’ve caused my loved ones!!!

He makes a few whirlwind blasts at Zero, who does his best to dash away from them or double jump over them.

Zero charges up and takes a few Z-Buster shots as he inches closer to him.

SPIRAL PEGASUS: (hurt) Hurrrr!!

ZERO: /Aaaaaaah!

After double jumping above a cutting wing spiral, he lands in front of him.

ZERO: You killed some of my best men, too! We’re even!!

Zero takes a slash at him, but Spiral Pegasus grabs his wrist.

SPIRAL PEGASUS: No.

He uses the wind shredder after image to knock Zero far back, again. He slides so far, he almost falls off the wing, but he holds on tight and struggles to get back onto the aircraft.

ZERO: Aaaaaagh!!!!

SPIRAL PEGASUS: On behalf of the Colonel, and Iris. It’s about time you died!

Flat down on the wing, Zero raises his neck with wide eyes of fear.

- cut to-

DARK NECROBAT: (intense) RRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

X tries to guard his face from the oncoming attack, when suddenly everything around him stops. The World seems inverted, now.

X: (v.o, thinking) What the..? What is this? I CAN’T MOVE!!

ALIA: (o.s, filtered) X? X?? What’s happening??? Why aren’t you moving???? Talk to me!!!!!

X: (v.o, thinking) I don’t know. Can’t you hear me??? (gasping) I’m frozen.

DARK NECROBAT: Hreeheeheeehee. Do you like my Dark Hold, X? This is my specialty.

While X is in a frozen state, Dark Necrobat slowly looms over to X and stands before him. He gives him a good hard smack, just because he can.

X: (v.o, thinking) OW!

X’s suspended face takes the hit and seemingly does nothing as a sore swells up on his cheek.

DARK NECROBAT: Aaahahahah. I forgot, how much I love this part. I’m gonna treat you like any other tourist that accidentally walks in here…

X: (v.o, thinking, worried)

What??

DARK NECROBAT: It’s just a few... One or two... Here and there... Not enough to be in the papers, but just enough to cause people to wonder.

X stares at Dark Necrobat, helpless.

DARK NECROBAT:

You can’t move, but I can feel the fear in your eyes. They’re saying, ‘what’s he gonna do to me?’ ‘What has he done to those poor humans…’ Well, I’ll show ya..! First, I’m gonna borrow some of your Life Energy.

X: (v.o, thinking) Hm???

Dark Necrobat immediately opens his mouth and sinks his fangs into X’s neck like a vampire.

X: (v.o, hurt, draining)

Aaaaah. N-nn..noo.

ALIA: (o.s, filtered) Oh no! X. Eeeeeex!!!

He sucks in three gulps of energen to the point where X’s Falcon Armor powers down to his normal base armor. Alia can be heard gasping from X’s com-link.

DARK NECROBAT: Theeere. That should do it. You’re much stronger than the others. Usually the humans just pass right out! Next, I’m gonna throw you into one of my vats!!!

He thumbs over behind him to the incubation and fermentation tanks.

X’s eyes twitch amidst his suspended animation.

DARK NECROBAT: Ahhh, there ya go. The Dark Hold is wearing off, I see. Good… It’ll be amusing to see you try to fight me, now. I guess this’ll be a three-step process.

He playfully scratches his head and closes his eyes.

DARK NECROBAT: Noooow, what am I in the mood for? X soup? Or maybe X a la Mode?? Ground X, or perhaps chopped X on a stick???

Suddenly, the Dark Hold effect shatters like glass and X manages to punch him really hard in the face with a glowing fist.

DARK NECROBAT: (shocked) /Kauugh!! WHAT THE!!? How do you still have so much power????

X: I told you, my power is LIMITLESS! Allow me to show you!!

X pulls in his hands and lets out a hadouken, which breaks a hole right through Dark Necrobat’s stomach.

X: (winded, panting) I don’t know what kind of sick antics you’ve been pulling in secret, under the radar… But it stops here! Right, NOW!!!! /Force Armor!!!

X calls upon his fourth armor and shifts it into Izzly Glow’s power set once again as he charges up.

DARK NECROBAT: THERE’S NOTHING YOU CAN DO!!!! KILLING ME WON’T STOP SIGMAAAAA!!!!!!!!

X: I /KNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

X /unleashes a fully charged F-Laser, which turns into a cannon blast of pure light.

DARK NECROBAT: (dying) AAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The cannon blast destroys the rest of Dark Necrobat’s armor as he withers into a massive explosion.

Caption: 1:30 PM – Egypt Time

Feeling exhausted, X powers down into his blue armor and stands victorious over the fallen bat. He spots his weapon chip and grabs it from the rubble.

ALIA: (o.s, filtered) You just received the Dark Hold, but do you mind if Zero borrows it?

X: Hm? Yeah, sure. Is he in trouble…?

ALIA: (o.s, filtered) Not for long. Give me oooone sec.

In a second, the Dark Hold weapon chip is teleported directly out of his hands.

X: Huuuh?

-cut to-

Caption: 11:30 AM – London Time

Zero looks at Spiral Pegasus in fear as a weapon chip is suddenly teleported in his hand.

ZERO: Huh?

ALIA: (o.s, filtered) Put this in your Z-Buster, quick!

ZERO: (confused) -but..

ALIA: (o.s, filtered) Do it. Nooww!!!!

ZERO: (disoriented) Uhhh…

Spiral Pegasus flies after Zero, who scrambles to place the chip in his Z-Buster. All at once, he stands up and unleashes the Dark Hold on Spiral Pegasus, which seems to freeze time itself in an inverted dimension.

ZERO: What the Hell is this??

ALIA: (o.s, filtered) It’s Dark Necrobat’s move. Time is now frozen. Now finish your mission!

Zero closes his eyes in regret.

ZERO: This feels wrong.

ALIA: (o.s, filtered) The whole Repliforce War was wrong, but we need that Orbiter Wing, and you both are too stubborn to let go of the past. So this is the only way!

He lets out a short sigh.

ZERO: You’re right. Besides… he was about to kill me, anyway…

He raises his saber andsharpens his eyes for the kill.With a few swift slashes and some spinning crescent slashes of the blade, he can already see the wounds separating from Spiral Pegasus’ armor. With a final E-Blade uppercut, Zero knows that it is over.

ZERO: That’s it. He’s done!

Caption: 11:32 AM

The World reverts itself to real-time as Spiral Pegasus looks at Zero with a confused, almost betrayed face.

SPIRAL PEGASUS: (hurt, dying) Y-you won… How did you win??

He immediately drops to the top of the aircraft as he can feel himself falling apart.

Zero crouches down and begins to feel guilty.

ZERO: It had to be this way… I’m sorry about everything.

SPIRAL PEGASUS: (arguing, repenting) It didn’t… But, me too…

ZERO: Just tell me one thing. Did Repliforce send the Colony down, or was it Sigma…?

Spiral Pegasus narrows his eyes at Zero, completely disgusted.

SPIRAL PEGASUS: Ughh… It was Sigma you fool…

ZERO: (shrugging) Hey man. You were the one’s who created the Final Weapon in the first place… So at this point, anything’s fair game.

SPIRAL PEGASUS: (admitting) We’ve had our faults, but it was Sigma who overtook our Colony... Years before trying to do this to us.

Zero gasps.

SPIRAL PEGASUS: Look. You’re all that’s left, now! My Air-Force is destined to go Maverick. I can’t let that happen. ...I need you to take them out...

Zero’s eyes widen, surprised. He has his blessing, now.

SPIRAL PEGASUS: D-don’t let this happen to anyone else…!

ZERO: Wow, Skiver. I don’t know what to say…

SPIRAL PEGASUS: …Heheh… Each of these Air-Crafts have an Orbiter Wing… That’s what you came for right? This Aircraft should be enough to give you what you need.

ZERO: …How did you know we needed that..??

SPIRAL PEGASUS: I overheard your navigator yelling at you, when you froze time. You should listen to her more.. She’s a keeper! Just like, Iris was…

Zero raises his eyes as he feels a cut at the heart.

ZERO: Hmph… Well, I should get going. I’ll respect your wishes. When I’m done here, my next target is Burn Dino-Rex.

SPIRAL PEGASUS: Hahah… Finishing us all off, I see… In that case, take this. Quick!

He pulls out his own weapon chip and holds it up in the air, as he struggles to hold on to his swelling core reactor.

SPIRAL PEGASUS: It’s his weakness…

Zero grabs it and notices that Spiral Pegasus is about to blow.

ZERO: Thanks, man. I won’t forget this.

Zero turns and runs as Spiral Pegasus gives him a dying look.

SPIRAL PEGASUS: You’d better get in that ship now...

Zero races over to the cockpit, narrows his eyes and uses the Dark Hold once again. With time frozen, Zero opens up the cockpit of the inverted Air-Craft. He throws the pilot outside and closes the cockpit door.

When he resets time, the pilot falls far down from mid-air.

PILOT: Hu-WHOOOAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!

SPIRAL PEGASUS:

(wide-eyed) This is it…!

He throws himself into the wind and bursts into a wild explosion. The heavy charred winds from the blast push the Air-Craft further ahead.

- cut to –

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------- INT. SPACE LABORATORY – Gateway – DAY ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Caption: 1:37 PM – Egypt Time

When the shutter gate re-opens X turns around with a concerned look.

ALIA: (o.s, filtered) Don’t worry about Zero. He’s fine, now.

He sighs with relief and walks back through the gates.

ALIA: (o.s, filtered) With regards to Dark Necrobat… He was a Maverick created three years ago by Sigma…

X: That’s scary, right? It makes me wonder what other surprises Sigma had in store for us, all these years…

ALIA: (o.s, filtered) Well, you destroyed him… That’s all that matters.

X: No it’s not, Alia. You don’t get it, because this is still new to you. If it’s not Necrobat, it’s the next guy. The Cycle keeps repeating all because of Sigma. He keeps coming back! No matter, what I do…

ALIA: (o.s, filtered) Since Sigma scattered a large amount of the Virus, he shouldn’t have any energy left to reproduce himself…

X: You think, so?

ALIA: (o.s, filtered) I hope, so… By the way, we’ve found the Fuel Tank.

After completely switching gears in conversation, X does a double take and smiles at her bubbly tone.

X: (surprised, uplifted) Wait, what? Really!?

ALIA: (o.s, filtrered) Yeah. Frostbite and Freeze Alopex sniffed it out. Now the Shuttle will be able to fly to the Space Colony…

X: Wow.

ALIA: (o.s, filtered) Zero, also successfully completed his mission and is on his way to bringing us an Orbiter Wing.

X: (thrilled) Good!

ALIA: (o.s, filtered) Also, there's another Light Capsule, below you in the other room.

X: (ecstatic) What!??

ALIA: (o.s, filtered) Ohh yeah. Now that you have some time, you should check it out.

X: (smiling) Heh.

- cut to –

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------- INT. AIRCRAFT – Cockpit – DAY ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Zero focuses on the Repliforce Airfleet ahead while he patches a com-link into Alia from the plane.

ZERO: Hey, Alia! Give this to X for me, will ya? One, for one.

ALIA: (o.s, filtered) Hm? Oh, it’s a weapon chip. Alright.

In an instant, the weapon chip is teleported out of his hand.

ZERO: Heh… Sorry, for being rude to you before. I got caught up in the mission and just lost myself for a minute there…

ALIA: (o.s, filtered) …I didn’t expect you to have to fight against the Repliforce again. But since most of them became Mavericks… I guess that was inevitable… Fortunately, the devices for the Shuttle were not damaged… but the Air Force was not so lucky… It won’t be safe there anymore.

ZERO: I know. And it’s not over yet!

ALIA: (o.s, filtered) Oh, God… Before you do anything reckless, just make sure that Orbiter Wing stays in tact, okay??

ZERO: (smiling) I will.

ALIA: (o.s, filtered, regretful) I’m sending Rho and Frenzy in to bring some back, just in case you don’t...

ZERO: Huh?

ALIA: (o.s, filtered) Do what you have to… Over and out.

Zero looks at his com-link bewildered.

ZERO: Yeesh, that was a little harsh... But I guess I deserved that.

-cut to-

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------- INT. PLANETARIUM – Secret Corridor - DAY ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From the gateway, X drops down into a narrow vertical corridor that he had bypassed, before.

X: (surprised) I can’t believe there’s another one, down here!!

He lands before a wall and tries to shoot it with his X-Buster, his charged shot, a few C-Shots, a Goo Shaver and some Tri-Thunder waves, but nothing works.

X: (gasping) Ah.. I’m so exhausted from before, I can't summon the Force Armor to charge my weapons any more! ALIA: (o.s, filtered) No, X. You're going about it all wrong. In order to get passed this obstacle, you're going to need a weapon that you can remotely control.

X: Huh?? Suddenly she pulls up a vid-link screen for him from his gauntlet. The screen displays a blueprint layout of what lies behind the wall. ALIA: Its a maze, X! You'll need to use the F-Laser again, for this!! X: Aw man! Alia, you're a genius!!! ALIA: I know... I'll keep the vid-link up to guide you through it. X: Okay!

- cut to –

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------- INT. NEW MHHQ – Signas’ Office - NIGHT ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Caption: 3:43 AM – Hexagon Time

In Signas’ private office, Lifesaver displays a wire-grid schematic analysis of the evolved Sigma Virus heads that X and Zero have been encountering.

ZERO: (filtered, audio) I’ve been fighting the Sigma Virus for a long time… It is the virus that causes all Reploids to transform into Mavericks. The most dreadful virus to ever exist.

A vid-link is attached, showing Zero woefully staring at his hands while on the Rail-lift at the Repliforce Air Base.

ZERO: (filtered, audio)

Why…? Why am I not harmed? Instead, I feel energy growing within my body.. What on earth is happening to me?? I have a bad feeling about this…

We pan out to see Signas with Lifesaver, viewing the footage of Zero’s private fears.

LIFESAVER PRIME: (reporting) …That’s all of the report on Zero.

Signas takes a deep breath before he speaks.

SIGNAS: (pensive) Zero has fought Sigma several times. I believe he has the Virus antibodies.

LIFESAVER PRIME: It’s possible… He doesn’t react negatively to the Virus… His power-output is actually growing! For the most part, the body systems of X and Zero remain mysteries. I can’t predict what will happen. I suggest you take measures…

Signas puts his hand to his chin and thinks for a moment.

SIGNAS: (calm, discreet) Keep this information secret. I’ll think it over…

He pensively looks at his monitor.

LIFESAVER PRIME: His power is growing with the virus! It’s too dangerous to keep them loose! Please… at least do something about Zero… before it’s too late!

SIGNAS: I’ll look into it… Thank you, Lifesaver.

He continues to look at his monitor and calmly waves Lifesaver away.

- cut to –

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------- EXT. REPLIFORCE AIR FLEET – Zero’s Ambush – DAY ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Caption: 11:44 AM – London Time

Without warning, Zero sneak attacks the aircrafts ahead of him. Aircrafts on his far right and left immediately veer off into a loop to get behind him, while Aircrafts at his immediate sides try to ram into him.

Zero brings his Aircraft down and fires missiles up at his opponents.

Aircrafts from behind him slow down to get a better lock on him and then fire their missiles upon him.

ZERO: Heeere we go.

He takes evasive maneuvers and spins around, dodging the missiles as other Aircrafts loop around towards his position.

-pan inside the cockpit-

ZERO: So it all comes down to this. A final dog-fight in the skies. Well I’m gonna take you all down for Ren, Rayven and Burn Bishop!

- cut to-

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------- INT. PLANETARIUM – Secret Corridor – DAY ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Caption: 1:44 PM – Egypt Time

X had tried to use the F-Laser within the maze-like piping of the wall ahead of him multiple times. Each missile had been caught in the ceiling, or the opposing wall on the other side. The trickiest part is wrapping the missile around the bend, upside down and pointing it towards him. Despite safely being on the other side of the wall, the directional inputs continue to unnerve him.

X: Ah man... I’ve been at this for almost 10 minutes! ALIA: (sighing) Yep.

- cut to-

Zero’s Aircraft accelerates and loops around in twists and bends, until he can get the advantage on some further Aircrafts. After making an opening for himself, he

notices two other aircrafts fly closely at his sides.

-pan inside his Aircraft-

ZERO: You want some too, huh?

FRENZY FOX: (filtered) Whooaa, whoa, hold it Z. It’s me.

ZERO: (shocked) Frenzy??

FRENZY FOX: You bet.

RHO: (filtered) I’m here too, Zero. Now let’s finish these bastards.

ZERO: Niiiiice, guys. Let’s go!

-cut to-

X: Alright. Finally! I got it!! He rushes toward the capsule with a dash. DR. LIGHT: Hello, X. Here I will give you another program for your armor… This is an armor prototype that I created a long, long time ago… I named it the Gaea Armor.

X: (gasping) Gaea Armor…

DR. LIGHT: Gaea Armor specializes in defense ability. It is very heavy and lacks mobility, however… You won’t be able to use special weapons, I’m afraid.

X: (nodding) Alright.

DR. LIGHT: Still, I’m sure it will prove very useful to you once it’s complete. Analyze and upload this data for the head part of the Gaea Armor in a secure area. Once you upload all 4 programs, the Gaea Armor will be complete.

With that, he disappears.

X: Okay!

He steps inside the capsule and receives the data for his new Gaea helmet.

ALIA: (o.s, filtered) Wonderful. I actually have one more place to send you.

X: Hm??

Suddenly he is teleported away.

-cut to-

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------- EXT. REPLIFORCE AIR RAIL – Dr. Light’s Capsule – DAY ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Caption: 11:46 AM – London Time

X is taken to another Capsule on a small platform, high in the sky. Above him, he can notice aircrafts flying frantically and firing missiles in the air.

X: What the-!? Where am I??

ALIA: (o.s, filtered) It’s kind of a Warzone now, but we need this. You’re at the Repliforce Airbase. Or… what’s left of it.

- pan high up in the sky -

Zero, Rho and Frenzy Fox triple team a wave of Spiral Pegasus’ Air Force, until Zero decides to think outside of the box.

- pan inside his cockpit -

ZERO: Hmm… Maybe this Dark Hold will come in handy, after all.

- pan far down below to X-

X’s eyes become wide as he tries to take a closer look. He notices a whole line of aircrafts completely stop short while another aircraft swoops in and shoots them all down.

X: What in the World??

ALIA:

(o.s, filtered) That’s Zero. He’s eliminating the last of the Repliforce before they become Mavericks.

X immediately scowls.

X: HE CAN’T! THAT’S WHAT WE FOUGHT FOR THIS WHOLE TIME!! THE FACT THAT THEY STILL DESERVE A CHANCE!!!

ALIA: (o.s, filtered) Nooo, X. You don’t understand. It was Pegasus’ last wish.

X: Huh???

ALIA: (o.s, filtered) They’ve all been infected by the Sigma Virus.

X: (calmer, concerned) Ohh..

ALIA: (o.s, filtered) You have no idea what Zero went through, here. They were about to bomb the whole place and self-destruct. It may not look like it, but he’s actually saving them from themselves!!

X looks down in awe.

X: Oh man! I never thought about it that way before.

ALIA: (o.s, filtered) That’s what I’m here for. One way or another, Sigma’s Infection could lead to something worse. So Spiral Pegasus insisted that Zero made sure they died as Reploids rather than Mavericks.

X lets that thought sink in as he frowns.

X: ………I understand. I’d want the same to be done to me, if I ever turned…

She gasps over the coms.

ALIA: (o.s, filtered) Don’t talk like that. Positive thoughts! We’re gonna win this, man. That’s why I sent you here!!

X nods.

X: Alright. The sooner we update this Shuttle, the better.

DR. LIGHT: This is the program for the body part of the Gaea Armor. With this equipped, you will receive less damage to your systems.

X nods and walks into the capsule, feeling graver than before. Despite the fact that they are winning the day, he can’t help but feel helpless to Sigma’s affect on the World. Emotional exhaustion and numbness has already taken it’s toll on him.

The fantastic rays of light flash and seep into his gem as he receives more data towards his Gaea Armor. X steps out of the Capsule with another data program received.

ALIA: (o.s, filtered) Please return to the Hunter Base quickly.

X: Alright. I’m ready!

In an instant, he is teleported out of there.

- pan above X –

His teleportation light trail disappears.

The size of the Air Fleet has been dwindled down immensely. With 5 Aircrafts left, Zero, Rho and Frenzy feel as if they have this Victory in the bag.

- pan inside Zero’s cockpit –

ZERO: This is it, guys! We got ‘em!

- pan outside of his cockpit –

The 3 Maverick Hunters chase the 5 Repliforce Aircrafts, and tail them down when suddenly, one ship cuts off it’s own engine source and sacrifices itself, for the greater good.

FRENZY FOX: (filtered) WHOOAAAAAAA. NNNOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

His aircraft kamikazes into the one ahead of him causing a massive mid-air explosion.

RHO: (o.s, filtered) Frenzzzyyyyyy!!!!

Immediately the one near him uses the same tactic, turning directly on it’s side and /ramming directly into his wing.

RHO: (o.s, filtered) /GhhhaaaaaaaahhhhhH!!!

ZERO: (o.s, filtered) Nooo. You bastards!!!!!

With 3 aircrafts left, Zero circles and bends avoiding their fire. Then, he maneuvers to a point where they are zooming towards him, ready for a head-on collision.

-pan inside his cockpit-

ZERO: (intense) DARK HOLD!!!!!!

He uses the last of the time-freezing weapon, having them all targeted in a line. With them locked on, he pulls the trigger and sends the missiles.

The Dark Hold breaks, completely drained of it’s use, as the missiles gained a 5 second headstart.

Now, the 3 Repliforce Aircrafts collide directly with their missiles, as Zero narrowly races through their explosion.

ZERO: (crazy, amazed) WWWWWHOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!

Caption: 12:00 Noon

After taking a moment to contain himself, Zero sobers up and falls back into a grimace, realizing that his colleagues are dead. He presses a button to com-link with Alia.

ZERO: It’s done, Alia… But we lost Rho and Frenzy. I’m sorry…

He hears nothing on the other end of the receiver, but static.

ZERO: Aw come on… I know you’re mad, but don’t give me the silent treatment…

The static continues.

ZERO: …Alia? ….Alia!

The static remains constant.

ZERO: …..What is going on over there?

- cut to –

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------- EXT. NEW MHHQ – Space Shuttle Dock – NIGHT ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Caption: 4:00 AM – Hexagon Time

X bravely stands up to Dynamo, who has just killed Freeze Alopex.

At his feet lies the dead vixen. He has crushed her larynx.

Behind X, Alia and Douglas watch with worried faces.

SIGNAS: (o.s, loudspeaker) Emergency! Dynamo has come back here to attack! What on Earth does he want?!

-Freezeframe. Grainy Effect-

#MMX Fanfics #S.V #Ep. 8 #Conflicts of Interest #X vs. Dark Necrobat #Zero vs. Spiral Pegasus #Dr. Light #Gaea Armor #Maverick Hunters #Repliforce #dogfight #Dynamo

1 note · View note

aureliians · 6 years

Note

❤

the fake dating au

he’s staring at the elegant cursive on the notecard, tapping the pen against his forehead and wishing he was anywhere but here right now. for a moment, he contemplates burning the invitation - even pretending that he didn’t get. making up something that is urgent and needs to be done that day instead. rolling his eyes, he groans, slumping back in the chair. how come no one ever prepared him for how to politely decline an invitation to a wedding that he didn’t want to attend.

the lettering is mocking him, looping letters scrawling out the announcement - ‘please join us for the marriage of mister wayne hopkins to miss mandy brocklehurst’. sighing heavily, he sees the two empty slots, reminding him of the fact that it’s not just addressed to stephen cornfoot - no, that would be far too easy. it’s to stephen cornfoot, plus one.

throwing caution to the wind and making a move before he can even make a second thought, he uncaps the pen and marks off two Xs, signifying that both he and his date will be in attendance to the event. he exhales heavily, as if he’s been jogging instead of just moving a pen, and before he can regret what he’s done, he puts the card in the envelope and seals it.

so now all he needed was to find a date. great.

soliciting for dates on the internet may be an all new low for him, and he’s not sure he’s ever had to spell out as many times as he did that he wasn’t looking for an escort - the gift was expensive enough, thank you very much. he didn’t need to spend money on a date too. between that and the number of dick pics that he’s had to sort through, he’s had half a thought the majority of the time to throw this whole thing down the tube and just invite sophie or lily instead. craigslist was supposed to be good for finding people who were willing to do anything - should’ve been easy enough to find someone who wanted to go to a wedding, right?

he’s lounging in the oversized chair at the coffee shop, checking his phone to see what time it is. the least suspicious response was from someone who said their name was noah - and since desperation is the strongest emotion there is, stephen proposed a meeting. in a public place, of course - he’d watched the video of people being murdered after using craigslist.

“are you stephen?” a voice says - and he realizes it’s a woman’s voice, which is initially confusing. he looks up and sees a girl - standing not much taller than he was currently sitting. after a slow nod, her face lights up almost instantaneously, dashing away and grabbing the blond boy standing awkwardly near the door. stephen’s almost positive he hears vague declarations of wanting to leave and curses at someone named sue - but then the blond is seated across from him, looking even more uncomfortable than before. “awesome, here’s noah. have fun!” she says, before darting away.

stephen watches her as she leaves, before slowly and turning to look at noah. “so,” he starts, raising an eyebrow. “should i even ask?”

noah’s shaking his head, looking more uncomfortable than humanly possible. “no, don’t bother. this is so embarrassing, i can’t believe this. i’m - sorry about her, she saw your ad and thought it was a good idea and replied as me because i was having a bad day and she said you were cute so that would make it better. i mean, which of course you are, but that’s not the point…”

stephen’s still staring at him, watching what he can only describe as a trainwreck unfold - and perhaps if he was smarter he’d apologize for wasting his time and send the guy on his way, doomed to attend the wedding without a real date. but he hesitates.

“does that mean you’re not interested, or what?” he asks. noah stops, looking at him - as if he’s waiting for some kind of punchline. sighing heavily, stephen slumps back in the chair. “look, i’m desperate. i need a date to this wedding because if not i’m going to look like an idiot, and i’d like to avoid that if possible. i can’t pay you to attend or whatever - but it’d just be for like. the rehearsal dinner, the ceremony and that’s it. staying in a nice hotel those two nights, free food and open bar,” he explains, before shrugging sheepishly. it sounded a lot less pathetic when he wasn’t the one saying it aloud. he’s a second away from panicking and running out the door, but then he hears it.

“okay.”

—

he meets noah in the lobby of the hotel, making it easier to seem like they came together. and as they make the uncomfortably silent trip down the hallway, stephen reminds himself that he’s forbidden himself to start thinking about how weird this is. not at all. it’s totally normal to go on a date with and share a room with someone who you’ve only met once before.

if he was a normal person, he easily could’ve started this conversation with a compliment, or thank noah for coming - or any hundreds of topics. the weather, for example.

“what’s in this for you?” he settles on instead - smooth. “not many people i know just willingly attend some wedding without anything in return. you’re not planning to like, steal everything, right?”

noah’s watching him with an unreadable expression, though stephen’s sure that it’s somewhat positive. he shrugs casually, though. “it’ll piss off my parents, mostly. posting some of the pics, showing i’m on a date with a dude, that i’m perfectly happy without them,” he points out, and stephen nods as if he understands. “we, uh, got in a big fight a few months ago and i told them i didn’t need them. they told me i’d regret it, i moved in with my friend sue - and not surprising, i don’t regret it.” he’s smiling and it’s genuine, and it’s strange, but seeing it makes stephen smile.

“shit. let me know if we need to take obscenely couple-y photos to send to them,” he mutters and notices a few people he recognizes outside of the restaurant doors. they notice him, grinning and waving and making their way over to meet him - and without thinking, stephen threads his fingers through noah’s. he belatedly realizes he didn’t even say anything to noah - but, fuck, he said he was bringing a date. a real date - and the last thing he needed was to be called out for his lie.

noah doesn’t say anything though, just smiles and greets the others, going along with it and pretending to know so much about these random strangers - because of all the things stephen has apparently told him.

and through it all, he keeps his hand in stephen’s.

stephen’s usually a charismatic creature, but tonight he wishes he were anywhere else than in this room. there’s so many people to talk to, so many people he has to pretend to, and it’s far more tiring than he expects it to be. noah is surprisingly good at pretending to be his boyfriend in front of his friends, making small talk with ernie and even dancing at one point with sally-anne. something in stephen’s chest is warm, unfurling - but he shakes it away, knowing what the real truth behind this whole night is.

—

he’s sitting outside on one of the benches in this fake terrace, his shirt collar undone and open in hopes of assuaging it. and though, he’s never been one for smoking, his nerves feel raw and it gives himself something else to focus on. dinner’s over, the rehearsal’s over - and stephen realizes how uncomfortable he’s been feeling.

“i thought you’d abandoned ship,” he hears from softly beside him, and he looks over to see noah taking the seat beside him. “you want to tell me the story about why you needed a date tonight, or are you going to make me ask?”

stephen exhales raggedly, stamping out the cigarette on the sidewalk. “the groom - wayne. he’s been one of my closest friends… probably since university. we lived together, we would stay at each other’s places over holidays, we just had this connection,” he starts, before letting out a hollow laugh. “if only i realized sooner that i was in love with him.”

he feels noah tense next to him. “does he know?”

a sense of dread falls over stephen, at which point he quickly shakes his head. “no, no. he can’t find out. please. i’m not - with him… it’s not like anymore, but…” he sounds pathetic, which is fitting considering that he feels exactly the same. his stomach has been twisting the whole night, seeing wayne - seeing wayne happy, thinking back on those nights of being torn and feeling terrible and hating himself for what he felt.

“hey, i’m not gonna tell him,” noah reassures, and moves to take his hand again. there’s no one else around, which is why stephen is confused - but he doesn’t move. just sighs again, slumping back against the bench, enjoying the way noah is dragging his thumb over stephen’s knuckles. it’s comforting. “i get it. i’m sorry.”

stephen shakes his head, before turning to noah. “i wanted to have a relationship by the time this came around so that i could prove to myself i was over him. i tried to make it happen, and then i started telling people i had a boyfriend, and… it spiraled out of control before i could stop it. so there. that’s why i needed you to come. because i was an idiot and lied and told people i was bringing my boyfriend to this wedding.”

there’s a heavy silence between them, and all stephen can focus on as he stares down at the ground for a moment is the way that noah’s hand feels solid in his. he’s selfish and self-absorbed, and for those few seconds, it’s nice to feel that. to feel something.

“it doesn’t have to be a lie.”

he lets out another laugh, practically self-deprecating at this point, as he turns to talk to him. oddly enough, he’s barely gotten a chance to open his mouth when noah kisses him. it’s unexpected and rushed and it makes his stomach twist - but in a different way. he lets go of noah’s hand, only to curl his fingers in the shirt, holding on.

“you barely know me,” stephen reminds him a few moments later. “how would you even know you want to date me?”

noah makes a face, before starting to laugh. “we’re already dating, remember. we can figure the rest out later. you can take me on a date to repay me for not leaving you boyfriendless for this wedding. your treat.”

it takes a minute for stephen to realize this isn’t a joke, and he grins. “fine. but first, we need to take a lot more super pda photo for your parents.”

#rvncorns #( ask meme. answered. )#( ask meme. about noah. )#( ask meme. au. )#stephen and noah involved in a fake dating trope no matter what universe? more like than u think!#i can't be bothered 2 spell check this

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