#still mad and deleted this a few times but resigning myself to share this thought because maybe future me will appreciate it

[shikai-the-storyteller]

There's no doubt in my mind that Madagio will use that energy to destroy the Federation. But today's Tazercraft tweet made me remember an old thought I had. I know the white figure in that photo is probably Cucurucho, but wouldn't it be interesting if it was Madagio who saves Pac?

[ Also on Ao3 ]

—

Madagio felt empathy for Fit, in the end.

They understood what it meant to be robbed of purpose because of factors outside of their control. Although they felt remorse for leaving Fit in the dark (figuratively and literally) for so long, they finally had what they needed, and Fit was no longer a required part of their plan. Success demanded sacrifice, and it was one only Madagio could pay.

The power of Vacuus Island surpassed that of Quesadilla Island's, and once Madagio was willing to utilize it, it was easier to jump Islands than they'd anticipated. The Federation was weaker than before, based on their observations, and the slowly fraying defenses against outsiders only confirmed their suspicions. Infighting and Islander revolts both had a hand in it, but like a cockroach, the Federation always found ways to survive. It was only a matter of time before its leaders stepped in and restored order — through any means necessary.

Madagio planned to deliver the final blow before they could recover.

The sterile white halls were sickeningly familiar. Even after all this time, the Federation's concept of "perfection" remained as stagnant as it ever was. Only a faint beeping and a blip of blue and green on a small heart monitor spoiled the monotonous tour of the Federation's labyrinthine base.

The sight of a familiar figure lying in a hospital bed made Madagio pause as they passed the Federation's hospital ward. Although they'd never stepped foot on Quesadilla Island before now (at least, not in their current form), they'd spent months watching Fit and the other Islanders. They could easily recognize Pac, after so many weeks spent by Fit's side.

(And it was hard to forget the way he'd seen Pac treat his cats with such gentle loving care. It was hard to forget the way his voice sounded when he cooed sweetly at them, or the way he lay still for hours whenever one fell asleep on his chest or lap, purring contentedly. It was hard to forget, because Madagio knew what that love felt like, once. They outlived all others on Vacuus Island, but Madagio could never forget the love that bound them there, or the grief which bound them to their mission.)

—

The reason for Pac's hospitalization was clear: a failed respawn. It happened sometimes, even on Federation-controlled Islands like this. One could even argue accidents like that happened especially on Federation-controlled Islands.

Sometimes residents died, and they didn't come back.

Sometimes they didn't want to come back.

Madagio's mission required speed and stealth, but time is a funny thing when one has lived as long as they have, and they found themself in the hospital room before the impulse could even fully form in their mind.

It was funny – or maybe not funny, but ironic – how Pac looked almost as bad-off as Fit after Madagio freed him. Old bruises and poorly-treated injuries littered almost every square inch of bare skin, and likely didn't stop there. Dark shadows rimmed his eyes, and he looked skinnier than the last time Madagio saw him. He was lacking his usual vibrant blue hoodie, instead sporting black clothes which made him look even more desaturated, as though he hadn't seen the sun in weeks.

Technically, Pac was still alive.

A failed respawn just meant something was preventing his consciousness – or "soul" as some people called it; Madagio wasn't one to ponder the metaphysical – from returning to his body.

But Madagio had seen corpses better off than Pac.

The reason for his soul's reluctance to return was hardly a mystery. Even without their surveillance, Madagio knew first-hand the kind of suffering the Federation inflicted on those under their control. The loss, the grief, the brief hope followed by crushing anguish. Madagio knew that.

And they'd watched history repeat itself as Fit searched vacant houses where familiar faces once resided, desperation bleeding into dread before he found something that stopped him dead in his tracks.

Madagio granted him 24 hours to say his goodbyes.

They sent him back to his world after 5.

It was the only mercy they could offer.

But standing there in that sterile white hospital room in front of the cot that would surely become Pac's deathbed, Madagio realized there was one final act of mercy within their power.

Pac's hair had grown in the last two months. Madagio was careful not to let their claws snag the unkempt tangles as they brushed it out of his face. His skin was cooler than it should be. Madagio could hardly remember the last time they came into physical contact with a person, but they remembered that much.

(They remembered lying with someone they loved, curled tight into a ball on their chest and slowly feeling their heartbeats fade and their skin grow cold. No matter how desperately Madagio tried to warm them, they never woke up).

But that was not the memory they were searching for.

They sorted through nearly a year's worth of memories – memories of others' lives seen through Madagio's eyes. Birthday parties, festivals, a summer wedding under cherry blossom trees, hugs from children and friends tight enough to steal one's breath away, gifts that spoke feelings people couldn't give voice to, confessions over coffee, and promises made were speakers thought no one else could hear. Madagio condensed all these memories and emotions into their purest form as though polishing a gem; hope, joy, compassion, and above all else: love.

...And one final memory of a man standing before five graves (empty graves, though Madagio hadn't known it at the time), enveloped by a grief so powerful it was burned into Madagio's own memory.

And now, it was burned into Pac's memory too.

A long-forgotten instinct prompted Madagio to gently nuzzle against Pac's forehead, barely brushing against the skin as they felt Pac's consciousness return, and with it, his grief. They continued passing memories to him, and although Pac didn't stir, a tear slowly rolled down his cheek and onto the pillow beneath his head.

Pac was a man who loved so dearly and deeply that losses hurt him as severely as a physical wound. Madagio could feel that, and felt Pac's exhaustion as acutely as if it were their own. But they could also feel the hope beneath that grief, the hand reaching up out of the darkness, the desire to live as he clung to the lifeline of memories Madagio offered him. Pac still had a family left. He still had children and friends, loved ones and people who loved him in turn. He still had a reason to live.

The next tear fell from Madagio's own eyes. It rolled from Pac's temple to his cheek, gravity dragging it down until it was indistinguishable from Pac's tear tracks. Memory sharing was a two-way road, though Madagio had hoped Pac's lack of consciousness might mitigate that.

They refused to acknowledge any other explanation for their lapse of composure.

Madagio brushed the evidence away, straightening up as color slowly returned to Pac's face and his breathing became more consistent. He'd likely sleep a while longer, but Madagio had no plans to linger. They'd delayed the inevitable for far too long.

As Madagio stalked the Federation halls, they found their thoughts being drawn back to Fit and Pac. With the Federation weakened as it was, and soon to be destroyed, Madagio had no doubt Pac and his little son and partner would be able to leave the Island. The Tazercraft pair were clever – maybe even clever enough to track down Fit and escape to a different world altogether with him.

Madagio almost smiled at the thought.

Almost.

They would never see a resolution to Pac and Fit's story, for Madagio had their own ending to write, and each step through the marble white halls brought them closer to their finale.

Perhaps there was no ending for Fit and Pac; only new chapters waiting to be told.

And maybe, just maybe, their future could be a happy one.

[actual-corpse]

Causing trouble and pushing the envelope is like, my whole deal... I'm a piece of shit who loves to get in people's ear and be in control... To give you an exact degree of my ways I'll share a quote, "If I can be the guy just behind the guy in charge, that suits me just fine." -Porter Gage.. and this has literally been my business model until shit went south near the end of the 2019 Fall Semester... Before Corona ruined everything for everyone and actually helped me deliver a hard blow to the assholes who did me wrong (more on this later). I’m also incredibly petty and I tend to hold grudges.

Fun story for better context:

I like accolades. I like shiny medals and rewards... And I like recognition, but I don't like being the main man in charge. Another wonderful Porter Gage quote, "Sure as hell ain't gonna be me; leading outright ain't my style, and there's already some blamin' me for supporting Colter all this time (more on the Colter bit later)." And "My talents are best put to use helping a new Overboss get all this shit under control. You get me?"... 

So, I spent the 2019 Spring semester (2nd semester of freshman year) and the 2019 Fall semester (1st semester of Sophomore year) as a member of some type of student government... The university I go to doesn’t have ‘dorms’ it has “Residential Colleges” and in the Res Colleges there’s a government called the RCC and I spent those 2 semesters as Vice President... Well, I was getting my bearings and learning the ropes in spring but when Fall rolled around, I was ready to rock. See, every member of the RCC I was a part of left, except me and this other girl. The other girl was a complete pushover, so I mostly got what I wanted and I was actually the guy in charge.. I even tossed the whole RCC Constitution and rewrote it to suit my needs... Only to have it used as toilet paper (more on this later).

That didn’t last too long as I was on the campaign to finding a new President, hell, I wanted to run... But I was met with the first of many strange obstacles... This mysterious “they” that thought it would be best if I didn’t run because of some wild BS that made absolutely no sense, and I quote, “They don’t think it’d look good on us if you ran for president since you didn’t run last semester.” Wtf? Well, I didn’t run and instead, some new transfer girl came in as president... And I got my first taste of being the Porter...

People would listen to her, and she would listen to me... They didn’t want me in charge, but I still was... And I’m sure they didn’t like it, but fuck ‘em...

Well, everything went tits up for the assholes in Housing (the mysterious ‘They’ has a name and I know ‘They’ are from Housing because they thwart me at every turn) and especially for the College Head when the president resigned... She bit off more than she could chew and just couldn’t handle the stress so she moved back home to up north land... Now was my time for a hostile takeover!!! Remember when I said I rewrote the constitution to suit my needs? Well, every other RCC constitution had a clause where the VP would take over for the President until a new one was elected... Except, it didn’t happen... No, this mysterious “They” told the President to “appoint” someone... This, boiled my blood... Especially since they NEVER once told me why they were doing me dirty... Well, jokes on those assholes, I raised a fuss over this and it led them to vote... Too my my fucking older brother DIED that weekend so I obviously couldn’t show up to defend myself or get any reasoning as to WHY they were doing what they were.

Well, while I was out for the week, things went in my favor... Hilariously and very ironically, they voted that the girl appointed as Interim President should NOT be interim and that it should just instead, follow the Constitution... (It’s ironic because this girl had a chronic issue of projecting where she would discredit ANYONE looking for a higher position by saying, “It’s a very stressful job. Idk if they can handle it... Etc.” she couldn’t handle her own fucking job as RA, that’s why she quit after one semester)... ANYWAY

Well, time rolls on and I’m grooming someone for the position of president... Someone I thought I could trust... A very close friend who I thought I could “guide” from the sidelines... Well, just like Gage and Conner, shit went south and I just happen to die in the crossfire... You see, I helped this friend. I talked him up, I helped him campaign (not literally... I just helped him get his ideas off the ground like, I was behind him)... And I was ready to crown my scapegoat... Except, things didn’t go as I had planned...

No, when the next semester rolls around, I’m all geared up to lead the charge into a new presidency, I’m also spearheading a few other projects (more on this later) and so, I’m ready to be the Porter again.... Except, I’m not... See, the meeting after we vote for the new president, the college head says we need a new Secretary (the RA who quit was the previous secretary) and we needed a new VP... Except, I was the VP! No, instead this dick flop goes around the room and asks the Web Chair if she wants to keep her position (She says no and so Dick Flop hands it off to the first bitch who raises her hand) And then Dick Flop asks the Media Chair if she wants to keep her position (She says yes) and then he proceeds to act as tho I’m not even there and asks for nominations for secretary and VP!

 The first RCA (Residential College Association) meeting of the new semester that we go to, the guy I made president, completely ignores the fact that at the RCA meetings, our Res College, is a team, who works together to vote on things... He acts completely alone... He ignores me, and I get pissed off... Well, come his first RCC meeting where he’s president, he completely undermines my title and job (I had been demoted and he was walking all over everybody...and I became RCA rep... I was supposed to relay the information we got at the RCA meetings to the RCC... The Dickhead president does this instead... In fact, he did everyone’s jobs) This was not okay. I tried to let him know that this was not okay and since he ignored me, I kinda threw my phone down on the table in front of him (I had to sign a sign-in sheet), picked it back up and stormed out.

Well, I wasn’t the only one who hated this guy... It seems that everyone was angry over something... See, there was another RCA rep... She didn’t get to do her job, so she got mad. The RAs and RD had a weekly meeting after RCC and since President Dick liked to suck himself and the College Head off, the RCC meetings lasted an hour. I don’t know how many people knew I was backing President Dick, but I’m sure those that did know, were a little miffed at me for backing him... My mistake... Hilariously enough, I had planned yet another hostile takeover... Covid just kind of, got in my way and forced me to change direction... Oops.

About that second project... I was in charge of a few different things... I was kind of important, for without me, the group was lacking specific information and various other things... Well, the more important project was All Campus Sing (and here I just gave away what University I go to because as far as I know, only one Uni does ACS)... Well, I was our ACS rep and I was trying to get a team together... Just, nobody was cooperating with me and so it was hard to get the word out... Well, shortly after I was abruptly kicked from my VP position, I was also kicked from my ACS rep position (However, those fucking idiots neglected to come to me and ask if there was anything they need to know... They thought that all they had to do was say they were interested and they could show up... However, they just invoked the wrath of the ONLY person that had any know-how of what they were supposed to do... So whenever I got an ACS email... I deleted it... They never got signed up... There was an actual process to getting entered into the competition... And they knew nothing about it... They didn’t even know what they were doing) If it wasn’t Covid who ruined their ACS, then it would’ve been me [thanks Covid...] In fact, because there WAS no ACS this year, they just re-streamed last year’s ACS instead... The one where I was on the winning Res College team.

Another thing I was in charge of was getting together an Academic Team.. We kind of had one, I was just the one who let people know when and where the matches where... And I was also trying to get a team together for the tournament... Except, everyone was too flaky and wouldn’t give me a straight answer... So, there was no team.... And so, on the eve of the Tournament, the College Head kept bothering me asking if I had a team and all that jive... Well, at that moment, I was sitting in a Logan’s in Paducah, KY after visiting a sex shop with some friends and my good buddy Matthew told me to just block the College Head... So I did, I blocked his number... And on the next day, Tournament Day, I slept... Then I went and hung out with some friends, one of which was showing me photos on Instagram where they had the Tournament... And every Res College was there... Except ours... And we laughed and I’m sure the College Head was mad... But I wouldn’t know, I blocked him and proceeded to avoid him like the plague... Old bastard...

To end this wild tale of heartbreak and deceit, I’d like to say this; I’m moving into a different Res College and I’m still debating on whether or not I want to take control there... I need to find a way to get back at the assholes in my old RC (Res College)... Like, most of the RAs were mean and smarted off to residents and were very disrespectful, and also the RCC that somehow became an exclusive club of ass-kissers and know-it-alls... I mean, yeah, I had my run of the place, but I can get that anywhere... It’s just my deal....

I also bend the ears of many people... In fact, I managed to pursuade a couple of my friends to move RCs with me (I only chose the one I did because I was chasing dick [shame on me I know...]... But I was gonna move regardless)... I am The Mastermind and I intend to have my run of the place in the new building.

This post was supposed to be about how I’m covertly coming out to my mom by pushing the envelope and asking her if I could get top surgery (on the basis of just not having to deal with breasts) or if I could have a Hysto (because periods amirite?) and also just how I have the awful habit of persuading people, mostly through some kind of manipulation, to do what I want....

It’s all about the Charisma, and my Charisma stat is maxed out...

Call me all the bad names you want to... Just know that I typically treat people right until they turn on me or hurt me in some way... Or, I mess with people in a harmless way and usually try to push for an outcome that helps everyone... Not just me... I use these tools for good! Not evil... Usually.... If there’s something I can gain from it, I’ll fight for it... Again, call me dirty names... I’m tired of being the nice guy doormat... This world’s made me into a selfish asshole and I’m no longer sorry...