#emptyzone

[beautifulabsurdities]

No Exit (from reality)

©️Esme Ngan 2025

https://www.instagram.com/jupa.shots?igsh=MXRqNWd0YmR6bThwYg%3D%3D&utm_source=qr

[pizzatrocious]

LET'S GET THIS SHOW ON THE ROAD!

As usual, the audience waited in the dark studio silently... waited for their host, waited for themselves, waited for their god. The drumroll you were all more than used to by now began, feeling more like an ill omen than something of excitement. The deep red curtains lifted, and a single spotlight flicked on.

The little bastard himself was already there, striking a pose...

Then, another...

Then, one more, for good measure!

"HELLOOOOOOOOOO, LADIES AND WHELPS!!! I'M YOUR HOST, THE NOISE, AND WELCOME TO TODAY'S EPISODE OF—"

The title card flashed on-screen.

"—NOISY COOKING!"

The lights flicked on as the empty crowd went wild, revealing a kitchen not unlike that of Peppino's Pizzeria! Though similar in appearance however, the kitchen appeared spotless, the appliances brand new. In front of the Noise sat a cutting board, a set of heating elements, and an arrangement of kitchen knives and utensils. Fresh produce lay neatly across the table, accompanied by a good handful of other main ingredients, herbs, and spices.

From beyond the kitchen set, multiple large shadows lurked, presumably the very same 'guards' he had set up the last time. From beyond the cameras and crowds, another clone behind a sniper rifle, the dim light of a game console barely illuminating him in the dark. Another silhouette wandered beyond the set, the shadow of a katana in its hand.

"TOOOOODAY, we've got one of our MOST SPECIAL guest stars yet! Originally we were plannin' on bringing him in LATER, but he just KEPT ON INSISTING. He's everyone's FAVORITE recurring guest star on NTV! You know him! You LOVE him! Rodents and worms, HEEEEEEEEEEEEEREEEEEEEEEE'S PEPPINO!!"

The camera panned over toward Peppino, who had been stirring awake within the confines of a pot, rope tied tightly around him. Despite the alarming display, it seemed as though it was simply that—a display, and nothing more. No flame, no heating element, the giant pot simply sat harmlessly on the ground. He'd even already been fitted with a wireless microphone and a battery pack!

The rope, almost magically, began to loosen as the clone snapped his fingers. He gestured toward Peppino, enthusiastically calling him over to his side at the kitchen counter. No shackles, no chains, no cement shoes, even a set of knives within arm's reach... this was an odd display of arrogance, considering the last two guest stars.

"WELCOME TO THE SHOW, OL' PAL!! I'm sure it's good to be here! Why don't ya take a little moment to introduce yourself to the crowd! Tell 'em WHO you are, WHERE you're from, and WHAT you love most about cooking!"

If there was ever a time to stall for time, this was it.

[sculsilvered]

@emptyzone || PARTY ROCKERS IN THE HOUSE TONIGHT

The Daycare had closed shop for the night. The seemingly endless stream of trainers coming to drop off or pick up their Pokémon had petered off, and the Pokémon being boarded had come in to sleep for the night. She'd taken inventory of all the new eggs and sent messages to their respective trainers to tell them to come pick them up tomorrow. Her grandparents had gone home to New Bark Town, meaning Lyra was, for all purposes, alone.

Well, not alone alone. There was her new friend hanging out in her shadow, but she hadn't quite explained that to anybody yet.

Lyra herself was lounging in the back, curled up in an armchair as she sent off a text to Silver.

Hi sweetie! If you're seeing this, don't forget to take a binder break! Your poor lungs will thank you <3

She smiled to herself as the thumbs-up reaction pinged from the other side and a series of ellipses piped up, as Silver was typing out a message. Not that she'd ever get to see what he said... as the window broke outside.

Lyra immediately grabbed a Poké Ball and jumped up, sending out her strongest Pokémon: Azumarill. The round, rabbit-like Pokémon rubbed her eyes, but the sound of heavy metal boots clunking against the ground snapped her awake almost instantly. The two of them ran out, ready to face the intruder--

Four intruders?

"Look out, little girl! We're here live in Johto, ready to bring terror directly to your doorstep! Count off, boys! One!"

"Two!"

"Three!"

"Four!"

From somewhere outside, Lyra could hear the distinct echo of 'five!' and 'six!' as two identical shapes stood guard outside the daycare.

Ooooookay. This was a bit weird, but it wasn't like Lyra couldn't look after herself. As the four henchmen in front threw out their Pokéballs, Lyra turned to Azumarill to start their strategy. "Alright, Azumarill, you ready? Let's play--"

She turns to her Pokémon, only to watch in horror as Azumarill immediately gets tackled by a Manetric and Breloom into the hands of a waiting Muk. The poor thing screams and squirms, but the Muk just won't let go. Lyra winces as she notices a few sickly bubbles come from Azumarill's mouth, indicating it's been poisoned.

This isn't fair. They all just attacked at once, and she can already tell she's at a real disadvantage.

She reaches for her Poké Gear... only for a pair of strong, searing hot hands to grab her wrists from behind. She turns her head up, only to meet the eyes of an extremely aggressive Armarouge forcing her to the ground. Something's off about its gaze, but she can't tell what...

"Hey now, no calling for outside help! This is just between you and all six of us." The red one stands over her. "But maybe if you come in quietly, we'll be sure to hand you over to the boss in one piece."

Lyra hisses in pain as Armarouge's grasp singes her wrists, unable to move. In all the chaos, however...

Nobody's paid attention to her shadow.

[plumberpower]

     "Aaand'a there! That'll get it gone!"

     It could be heard for miles on end— for the action and duty thus was anything but subtle. With a final swing of the mallet made to the last remaining support beam within the building at large, a hulking tremor would make shabby walls knock at their knees and moth-eaten carpets shudder in what was soon to come. Not long after, it's that signature powerful bound that sends a red and blue streak off into an arc toward safety, all before the thunder rolled in to crash down.

     It's a splashdown of dust and debris scattered this way and that, sending cockroaches no doubt running for their lives. And after all had cleared and everything had settled? There was naught but a pile of rubble left where a tattered building in need of clearing once resided.

     Consider that a job well done!

     "Man... when was the last time Mario was'a contracted for demolition work...? Feels like it's been'a ages! But hey, work's-a work." After a short shrug, one hefty metal mallet is given a fanciful spinning flourish before being hefted over the shoulder. Nothing left but to clear out the rubble and pack it in back to boss-man for his pay. Whistle a jaunty tune and head for the nearby bulldozer to get to work on clean-up!

@emptyzone

[heartbinders]

❝ Y'know, I wonder what that message in the Spirit said. Maybe the guy that he went with can open him and read it. Sure hope he comes back around to tell us if he can... ❞

❝ ...Sora...? You're crying. ❞

❝ ...Huh? ❞

[djhallyboo]

"SWEET SUPERSTARS ABOVE, WHY ARE THERE TWO OF YOU?"

[thebananwithaplan]

"...Spirits, huh." Anyone who's read everything going on in this blog at this point knows that he's no stranger to the paranormal. Mostly unintentional. But from what's described in the group chat, the ones that red guy's looking for look like sentient bottles of...alcohol? And apparently Anton's having to go collect as many as he can in order to pass through something.

"Hope luck's on his side, I guess." He's said he'd keep his eyes peeled for them. but the odds of something manifesting very close by?

....Okay. It's happened sometimes. More than the banana wanted to. But the odds that something would appear right when they need it is also very, very slim.

Oh well. Maybe he could use another pb&j; just a quick stop to the kitchen should do it.

...Say. Why is there music coming from inside the kitchen?

♪Wayya, Wayya, Wayya, Wayya, now eyyy-o, eyyy-o, eyyy-o, eyyy-o!♪

...Oh. Not just one, but TWO dancing bottles of banana rum?

At this time of day?

At this time of year?

In this part of the country?

Located entirely within his kitchen???

"Yes."

...Oh. At least they didn't appear somewhere inside his studio. Can't have people questioning why he'd even bring alcohol in what's supposed to be a public setting where families come to visit-

(( @emptyzone two of 'em))

[skyfcx]

@emptyzone (Noise) 'Liked' for a Starter!

     Okay, this scenario needed a little bit of explanation.

     So... the kit was a bit of an artillerist. Where others found their ability to make a change through their speed or raw power, Tails found his behind the barrel of an arm cannon. That, and the plentiful gadgets and gizmos he had made by hand. Natural athleticism could only get him so far. Some augmentations and various tricks up his sleeve were how he got things done at the end of the day. But... the fox was one on a budget.

     He wasn't exactly being funded for being a hero. Despite working alongside the government here and there, they also went against it when it seemed necessary. Therefore, he and his friends were technically vigilantes, and... there was no allocation for vigilantes. Which left only one route left. Sweet, sweet D.I.Y.! Far from a foreign craft for the fox. He had made a television out of paperclips, reprogrammed a super computer using dishwashing detergent and a toothpick, and... you get the picture. All he needed were the materials.

     Right now, some small-grade explosives were on the shopping list. Dummy Ring Bombs were his favorite, but it was good to have a variety for whatever situation faced him. General supplies should include some gunpowder, a material for the casing, ignition starters, and—

     —And a never-before-seen store named Bombs“R”Us...

     Well, how convenient. It was a colorfully decorated storefront touting lower-than-low prices with stock that was just exploding off the shelves! Hah-hah. This was the most obvious trap he'd ever seen in his life. Had someone been spying on him with hopes of erecting the most devilishly cartoonish steak-on-a-meathook pitfall to be created? Gaia below, he feels like an anvil would fall on his head if he walked through the doors.

     ...      ......      ..........

     Curse his curiosity. Today's really the day it finally gets him killed, huh? Always knew he'd go out like this... Because his thoughts wouldn't stop racing! When was it built? How long had it been there? How didn't he notice its creation? Was this a trap specifically for him? Or is he just getting caught in some oddly specific crossfire? It was questions like these that led the high-flying fox straight for those double doors. What could possibly go wrong, right?

[robotnikium]

Elsewhere, in the Jester Zone:

❝ ROBOTNIK YOU USELESS TWIT — ❞

[cosmcther]

"Why is it always humans, you think? Surely the universe has a more common sentient species than human, right?"

Flowey gives the other a bemused-- Slightly knowing look. Really, he knows genuinely messing with her would be like throwing a pebble at a tank. Messing with a LOT of people felt like throwing a pebble at a giant mech, actually. That felt like a better comparison-- Where was he going with this?

"Is being human... This SUPER unique thing that nobody gets, or something? Even monsters write..." Fanfic. "...Stories about humans. What do you think the big deal is?"

Observers and Overseers || Requested

     The flower, in its appearance, gave the woman no shock nor surprise. In the simple hustle and bustle of human life moving forward, some strange entity or enigma sidling up to her for a simple conversation on the intricacies of mortal existence was... admittedly not every Tuesday for the deity, but she could see it happening on a tri-weekly basis.

     The mother was sat on a bench at the recesses of a park. Some small number of Lumas hovered about, either interacting with gobsmacked humans or keeping to their own circles of playtime. She, like the good mother she was, kept an eye forward on her children while glossed lips moved to converse with her new companion. After all, it was a fascinating topic they brought up.

     "Well, humans are the lowest common denominator in evolutionary requirements, don't you know. If you're looking for a scientific reason as to why it's always a human you see, I mean. When it comes to beings capable of elevated thought, they own everything they need and nothing more. They have methods of interacting physically with their surroundings, senses to interpolate what they are interacting with, and an expanded mind to build upon the inaugural elements of life.

     "To that end, they make for wonderful putty to further build upon, and the universe has agreed tenfold! That's why there are so many alternative humanoids that evolution has all but riffed on and made its own."

     She never fancied herself a scientist, but the explanation on why it was always humans you always found throughout the galaxy fascinated her. Though, with a slight chuckle, her expression turns a little bashful in its presentation.

     "Of course, I bemoan the point of conversation. I'm sure you could piece that together on your own were you given the time and breadth of interstellar traversal. My explanation only raises the question further, and gives ample follow-through to yours: what makes a human unique? In a world comprised of their betters, surely they would inevitably fall to the wayside, no?"

     —Oh. A small snack bag of Star Bits and trail mix would be opened and imbibed upon in small intervals. And a little handful would be offered to the flower, if they were partial to food stuffs such as that. It was polite to share, after all.

     "There are many iterations on the human that are, in all intents and purposes, far superior to the base model, so to speak. We would be here all day if I were to list all of their downsides, quite frankly.

     "Well? I believe that, then and there, lies the appeal. Who doesn't love an underdog? In a world choked with humans, their perspective on matters big and small will naturally become the dominating voice on the subject, and theirs is often one that depicts larger-than-life worlds that their meager selves are set to brave. They're quite good at making themselves the heroes in their stories, don't you know. All while being insufferable in gallivanting their strengths! Hah!

     "It sets up their innate courage and will to see a poor situation to the end, even if they're not always aware that they're the ones with the shortest stick of the lot. There's something about an intrinsically simple soul setting out on an adventure that they have no way of comprehending its magnitude at the onset. Being so meager by nature, it makes their accomplishments feel all the greater!

     "What do I think the big deal is? I don't think it's something nobody gets, oh no. It's something that everyone can relate to, in fact! To feel small and strive for that which is greater despite it. You just can't help but root for them, really. They defy odds and expectations almost every single second of every single day.

     Either that, or you're upset that they're so miniscule and can still raise themselves up to such heights with the power of joined strength and mutual goals. Which, too, pushes souls to better themselves, but merely out of spite!" A slap to the knee! A handful of star-trail mix!

     "Ah... They truly are captivating creatures. I don't know how others can hate them, honestly. They're woefully flawed, but they certainly know how to make up for it."

[beautifulabsurdities]

Memory Cleared

©️Esme Ngan 2025

https://www.instagram.com/jupa.shots?igsh=MXRqNWd0YmR6bThwYg%3D%3D&utm_source=qr

[pizzatrocious]

The broadcast begins.

Several shadowy figures scramble about to find their places, several seeming to wander off-stage to who knows where.

Finally, a spotlight flicks on, revealing a lovely mahogany desk with a tasteful lamp, a small stack of papers, a mug of coffee, and a framed picture of Peppino that seemed to have been taken VERY recently. The stage had been carpeted with a lovely ornate brown and orange carpet that was reminiscent of a snake's patterns, and a set of deep red curtains hung behind it all.

"HELLOHELLOHELLO!! WELCOME TO THE SHOW YOU ALL KNOW AND LOVE—"

The audience chimed in.

"THAT! WONDERFUL! NOISE!"

"Today I've got a GREAT guest star on today, boys and girls! You know him, you LOVE him, everyone's favorite 'literally who?', HEEEEEEEEEERE'S RONNIE!"

The main stage lights would flick on, replacing the spotlight. Next to Noise's desk sat a surprisingly comfortable armchair! A small table sat next to the chair, a glass of water and a tray of simple sugar cookies on top.

Wearing a LOVELY pair of leg shackles, AND THIS TIME TO PREVENT ANY SHENANIGANS cement shoes (separated for comfort!), was none other than the victim himself!

Behind the teen stood two towering, comically muscular-looking versions of Fake Noise, both wearing earpieces and holding batons. From far beyond the crowd sat another Noise in sunglasses, focused on solving a Rubik's cube from behind the comfort of his sniper rifle! Clearly, the host had taken exhaustive measures to prevent any sort of DUMB STUPID IDIOT FROG NONSENSE this time.

"Thanks for takin' the time outta your schedule to join the show on SUCH SHORT NOTICE! Tell us a little about yourself! I'm sure the audience is just DYING to know!"

The audience was, much like the previous episode...

Completely nonexistent.

[sculsilvered]

She's fallen asleep by Peepaw's side, using the old spirit as a makeshift fluffy beanbag chair. Thanks to the Pokémon Center nurses, her wrists have been properly cleaned and disinfected, with gauze gingerly wrapped around them to protect from further irritation or infection. Her hair falls loosely in her face. She's been unable to tie it back properly with her hands still out of commission, but it's fine. She's steadily getting better.

The door creaks open.

Soft footsteps pad towards Lyra. She stirs slightly and opens a single brown eye as it looks up at the red, white, and purple shape standing above her.

"Hey, you." She mutters the words, still half-asleep. "Did you remember to take your binder break...?"

A voice laughs comfortingly. The figure standing above her leans down and kisses her forehead. A hand strokes her hair, gently untangling the knots beginning to form as it does so.

"Just go back to sleep for now, babe."

Lyra hums and relaxes again, curling up against Peepaw for further comfort. Once he's sure that she's fallen back asleep, the newcomer turns to Peepaw, his expression sedate.

Silver's had a long flight himself. He's tired.

"...Thanks. For everything."

[plumberpower]

...How long as Kirby been following you, Mario. Not that you'd know, at first-- Every time the plumber tries to get a little glance at him, he's suddenly gone into a nearby bush or standing behind a pole that miraculously completely obscures him. But the faint sound of his small footsteps would eventually be completely recognizable as nobody else but Kirby. What does the beast want from you...

It's definitely just a box... || Unprompted

     Perception was rarely a skill that failed the plumber in his times of need. Those eyes of his could be quite sharp when they needed to be! They ought to be when it was hand-eye coordination making the call on when to leap into the air and stop an incoming Koopa shell or what have you. Only... this was no such situation. He was just doing his daily rounds around Toad Town!

     Ah, yes. The residential hero of the Mushroom Kingdom must've looked like quite the comic when it was him and him alone that missed the peculiar pink orb trailing him on every turn. During it all, a Toad had a Super Mushroom to give to their hero for his help with running some persnickity Piranha Plants sprouting up all over the place last week...

     And, oh, how sweet! A family of four had made him a set of matching badges for him and his brother! The iconic duo were paramount in the waylaying of a band of no-good Monty Moles looking to make a mess of local farmland. He had to show his Bro when he headed back home!

     Though, all throughout the trek, everyone's eyes seemed to always lag behind the plumber by a beat or two. At first, it was a curious glance over the shoulder at nothing but the whispers of what had so swiftly made itself scarce. He'd shrug, for it was probably nothing. Toad Town was a busy locale; they were probably just looking at one of the other one hundred things there was to see.

     But then... it kept happening? Hesitant stares, confused glances seemingly shared with the Italian's shadow! What in the world...? Now... now hold on just a sec... Ears adjust themselves to the hustle and bustle around him. This was his home, he knew it quite well. So if there were a sound that rang otherwise foreign in the familiar cacophony, it would be particularly prevalent to the plumber's fine-tuned—

     —Oh. Cheeks, plump and round as they are, would raise in a knowing smile. With footsteps so distinct, two and two could be put together perfectly well once the superstar gained a foothold on the circumstances. Don't worry, Mario knew just what to do in situations like these.

     His path would take a rather abrupt left turn, heading down the street and toward a humble sandwich vendor. And all Mario had to do was lean an elbow on the shop's ledge, pop his cap's brim up with a flick of his thumb, hand over some gold coins, and speak. "'Da works, a-my good man!" would he grin, 'Comin' right up!' being answered in kind nary a beat later. Not long after, an utter gift of a submarine sandwich would its new owner behold.

     And now? All he had to do was settle on his stage and begin.

     "Oooh~, mama-mia! What is a-Mario to'a do?! I'mma got 'dis double-wide Italian hoagie just'a chock-full'a ingredients! Meats and cheeses aplenty, oil and'a vinegar 'dat's generous enough to add to 'de flavor profile without drenchin' 'ya hands in'a grease, and 'da bread roll is'a toasted to'a perfection! Oough, just'a listen to'a 'dat crust~! And I'mma pretty hungry, but 'deres no way I could'a finish it all'a by myself! If a-only I had somebody to a-share it with!"

     A long, dramatic sigh as body slumps low. Hand to the chest, wrist laden with grief during its long press to the forehead! Oh, woe is he! ...Surely this would be enough to lure his little buddy out, right?

[heartbinders]

"Happy Birthday."

Ness's tone is as casual as ever as he holds out-- Wow. Jeez. An entire bag of PSI Caramels for Lucas, with a red bow tying up the bag and all. How long did it take him to find all of those-- Or, hell, how much money did he need to fork over to get that many? Don't worry about it. No seriously, don't, you know his dad gives him an insane allowance.

Who let Lucas have a birthday on weed day || @emptyzone

❝ Whoa! Thanks, Ness! ❞ He's only ever seen these in little packs! ( For reasonable amounts of DP, anyway. ) Definitely gonna want to share them with Claus — they may not taste like much to him anymore, but he'll sure appreciate the rush. ❝ Where'd you get so many of these? Maybe they're just not as common in Tazmily, but I've only ever seen 'em in small bunches. ❞

[pastelprcdigy]

"That's no way to talk about a lady, you old fuck."