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#the combo of six and glory gonna be Fun
breadandblankets · 1 year
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one of the afternoons ever (fo4)
Railroad AU X6-88 has infected my brain so i made a lil thing about how he got the courser chip out of his head. i figured it would be more fun to make this be mercenary maccready's problem. first time posting for this fandom so hope it turned out okay.
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You ever have something so batsh— uh crap insane happen to you that the whole event simply takes up permanent residence in your head?
Although really, if things like this are going to keep happening to him, RJ figures, he’s going to have to open a head hotel to store them all. 
Picture this, you are RJ MacCready, you are 21, just barely donned the Gunner green, and you are accosted by a man with a shoulder to waist ratio like he walked straight out of a pre-war skin mag. With the benefit of hindsight he could contemplate the concept of perfect men existing in this hellscape. 
At the time he was, of course, Distinctly Terrified.
“Do you have a knife?” the man demands, his voice low and steady.
“Wh—”
“A. Knife.” the man emphasizes.
“Yeah but—”
“Good.” the man swiftly cuts him off, holding his hand out expectantly.
“Hold on hold on! I’m not just going to give you my knife!”
“Why not.”
“So you can gut me with it?? Or take it? Weapons are expensive!”
“Fine.” he fishes in his coat before tossing a bag at MacCready. The bag is Heavy. “Is that sufficient?”
“I— yeah sure, what do you even want it for?”
“There is a computer chip in my brain, it must be removed.”
“Are you just, like, going to cut it out?”
“That is the plan.”
“That’s twenty different kinds of dangerous,” and RJ here has no idea what in the fudge possessed him to say this but— “Do you want a hand?”
The man sizes him up.
“It would be appreciated.”
And that's how RJ MacCready found himself 400 caps richer, with hands covered in blood, as he dug around in this mystery man’s head. 
The man didn’t even flinch or make a noise as RJ dug the thing out. A younger him would have been impressed, MacCready the father was mostly just concerned. Who made you so small that you can’t even say ow?
It was one of the afternoons ever.
When it was over, a stimpack closing up the majority of injury, the man had taken the chip and crushed it under his boot.
Then he took out a weirdly white laser rifle and emptied a clip into it.
Then he reloaded. 
And emptied a second.
RJ watched with a kind of detached panic. That was gonna be SO expenssivveeee.
When all was left was some ash and melted plastic, the man took off his impressive leather coat and sunglasses and tossed em into the pile.
The rifle followed.
“Hey so uh, we skipped this part but, the name’s MacCready,” RJ held out a hand to shake.
Steel grey eyes looked down at his hand before acquiescing. 
“For now, X6.”
X6 nodded and then vanished like smoke before the realization that RJ just dug some computer parts out of a synth fully hit.
He didn’t have time to unpack allll of that.
It had been months and he still didn’t.
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Two years from now, after the Institute turns into a sunken crater in Cambridge and his son is safe and sound. In a house in Sanctuary, Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome shows back up with Deacon of all people. 
What the actual fudge.
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davidmann95 · 3 years
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Comics this week (3/10/2021)?
cheerfullynihilistic said: Comics this week (03/10/21)??
adudewholikescomicsandotherstuff said: This week’s comics?
Anonymous said: Comics?
Anonymous said: 3/10 NCBD?
Non-Stop Spider-Man #1: The lead story was fun, the backup was dopey, I’ll give it another issue or two to see where it goes.
The Immortal Hulk #44: While it was too late for this week I’ve taken Hulk off my pull list, so the store won’t order any copies specifically for me and therefore my future purchase of the book won’t support Joe Bennett’s presence, just the store. This issue is typical of some of the books’ weaker installments of the last year or so - feels like well-done regular superhero comics instead of Immortal Hulk - but those last couple pages bring it back around.
Daredevil #28: Holy cow, those King In Black issues actually mattered. God this book is still so fuckin’ good in so many ways, everything every dumbass street-level superhero ‘deconstruction’ wants to be when it grows up.
Children of the Atom #1: Sucks real bad! This weird combo of ‘hip new young Marvel heroes!’ trappings and soulless X-Men lifer comics execution that feels certain to appeal to neither group.
Eternals #3: Of the listed Deviants I imagine I’d relate most to Annoyed Veug.
Commanders in Crisis #6: While I remain without the ability to weigh in on this objectively, this is the issue that to date most feels like it lives up to the promises of the series premiere.
The Wrong Earth: Night & Day #3: Little disappointed personally with the reveal of what the third world is - I assumed it was going to be more of a straight take ‘modern’ version to the other two’s flavors of throwbacks - but this series still rules. And that ending.
Home Sick Pilots #4: Okay, I think I can follow what’s happening at this point, still enjoying it.
Proctor Valley Road #1: I review these books in the order I present them to my dad since he likes DC/Marvel/Other to each be lumped together, but make no mistake: this is the last of the three Morrison books to read this week, because this is what comes next for them. A return to their roots - 70s kids way into music and dealing with the weird, girls adventure stories of the kind they apparently grew up reading - this feels like a refinement of their mid/late-00s Vertigo work in the same way they’ve been iterating on their superhero material for decades. The horror is sold excellently, whether by their own efforts or thanks to cowriter Alex Child this is their most fluid, ‘real’-sounding dialogue perhaps ever, and Franquiz with Bonvillain are instantly among their all-time best collaborators, perfectly capturing the shifting tone and character acting necessary to best put Morrison’s big ideas over in a way a number of their collaborators haven’t lived up to over the years (and speaking of the visuals, Jim Campbell does the lord’s work with that lettering trick near the end). Ritesh Babu and Sean Dillon have a lot more to say about the book and how it already acts as a darker, more honest take on your Stranger Things and the like as a commentary on its times, but I’m already loving to see this particular return down to Earth for Morrison and company and I’m glad to hear this is selling really well compared to their previous indie work.
Dead Dog’s Bite #1: This actually came out last week, but Ritesh recommended it so I figured it might be worth a look. A so far intensely low-key missing persons mystery with a touch of surreality around its edges, this already looks to be the best “look! A nine-panel grid! Fancy!” comic since Mister Miracle, really lived-in and emotional for as little happens in this debut. Very curious where it’s going.
Rorschach #6: I continue to like it.
Batman: Urban Legends #1: Glory be, a good Jason Todd comic - at last, you noble stubborn weirdoes living off of like six nonconsecutive panels all these years, you may lay down your burden. Not all you’d necessarily hope from Zdarsky tackling Gotham after what he’s been doing with Daredevil but rock-solid work regardless; the Harley story is fine, Outsiders is a letdown after Thomas’s shockingly good showing for them in Future State but it’s still fine, and the Grifter stuff is fun.
The Joker #1: I thought the advertised ‘a Joker story from Gordon’s POV’ angle was an interesting one even if I was concerned this book would in practice be pure editorial mandate, but in reality? Tynion has managed to pull the wool over DC’s eyes and do a full-on Jim Gordon book (one predicated with him being off the force to make it reasonably comfortable read in 2021) with Joker as the barest of pretexts to get it out the door and selling for as long as he wants to continue it. He even said in interviews that when the book was first pitched to him that his response was that a Joker solo book was a dumb unworkable idea until he had an idea for a ‘different way to approach it’, he knows exactly what he’s doing and I salute him. And it’s a darn good Gordon book even if the Punchline backup is predictably tepid, I’m in the tank for Gotham’s perpetual whipping boy dealing with weird noir international crime with Joker sort of hanging around in the background menacingly to justify the nominal premise.
Anonymous said: Hey, so I figure one random anon won’t change your mind, but like you I was disappointed by New Frontier’s immortal Wonder Woman, but I still got the new issue of Wonder Woman cause Wonder Woman at Valhalla still sounds great and I actually liked it! I think I’m gonna get at least the next issue, so there’s at least one recommendation for it
Wonder Woman #770: This combined with the store still putting it in my pile prompted me to give it a try after all, and whether because something here clicks better or if they’re simply not trying so hard without the pressure of doing a ‘final’ story for Diana, Cloonan and Conrad do in fact do substantially better on the main book than they did with Immortal Wonder Woman. Some fun, some fights, some mythology and intrigue, gorgeous landscapes and generous servings of beefcake from Travis Moore - this isn’t going to be sweeping the Eisners, but this is as enjoyable as a Wonder Woman comic has been in a good long time. My only concern is that the joyousness on display here might dissipate somewhat once Diana fully returns to herself, but in the meantime this was a very pleasant surprise (especially with the the Young Diana backup by Bellaire, Ganucheau, Goode, and Carey).
Superman #29: PKJ’s Superman thus far has been a story of overcoming initial worries of mine - in this case, my concern that he’d have a bad Scott Snyder-ey case of “if you’ve read the interviews you’ve pretty much already heard the dialogue of the comic verbatim”. In practice here most of what he’s had to say about these issues are distilled down really succinctly and poignantly in the midst of a fun little upper-atmosphere adventure portending something grimmer, and while I know it didn’t click with everyone I thought Phil Hester’s work here was a perfect accompaniment. The Tales of Metropolis backup wasn’t nearly as enjoyable, but hints at some interesting worldbuilding I’m hopeful will pay off in the main run.
The Green Lantern Season Two #12: The final Grant Morrison DC comic. One of two anyway, but if the next story I discuss is their broader final (non-Klaus, hopefully) statement on the superhero subgenre and a bridge to what they’re doing next, this is the one that’s about being The Final Grant Morrison DC Comic. A mélange of pretty much all their other DC finales into a shamelessly self-reflective meditation on the limits of what they can accomplish in shared universe storytelling where Green Lantern saves the universe through collective action and then fucks off to do his own thing elsewhere while the kids take over the ongoings. Weird and kinda perfect, and if nothing else this series took Liam Sharp from “really? This dude is drawing the last ever Morrison DC ongoing?” to “HOLY FUCKING SHIT LIAM SHARP”.
(The panel folks blew up over I think can be read multiple ways, but not in a ‘it’s open to interpretation!’ way so much as the storytelling/framing being unclear. I personally read it as ‘this is what neighbor versus neighbor looks like now’ rather than ‘calling someone a TERF or a Nazi is as bad as anything the other side does’, because oldster and out of touch though they may be I can’t see Morrison seriously saying that, especially after coming out.)
Wonder Woman Earth One Volume 3: At long last, after a hideous misfire kicking the series off and a second installment best described as ‘well, at least it wasn’t the first one’, this while not without elements I want to see femme and nonbinary critics discuss critically lives up to what you want to see out of ‘Grant Morrison’s Wonder Woman’. Big utopian fiction breaking the typical boundaries of superhero stories with aplomb in implicit conversation with a ton of their previous work, a bridge from what they’ve done to what they’re doing next, it’s an imperfect (especially with Paquette’s art, which while gorgeous and majestic in the way this story demands really doesn’t living up to the ‘acting’ necessary here in a way thrown into sharp contrast by Franquiz in PVR) but shockingly passionate statement of intent - if the last two volumes felt like Morrison struggling to have something to say with Wonder Woman in the same way they did with Superman and Batman, this feels at the close like them at last finding in her a way to do everything left with the cape and tights crowd they wanted to but couldn’t manage anywhere else under the Big Two umbrella. Odd and lovely, a fine sendoff.
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dlamp-dictator · 3 years
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Allen X Wants to Like Guilty Gear Part 1: Allen X Does Not Like Guilty Gear
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Folks, I tried. I really tried. For the last few years I’ve tried to like Guilty Gear. I’ve honestly been playing bits of this series since around the time Accent Core was on the PS3 store. I’ve really tried. I’ve played Accent Core Plus R, Xrd, Revelator and Rev 2, and I’ve been trying my damn hardest to like this series because I can see all the cool and fun stuff in it. I can see the cool grungy-rock meets 90s anime aesthetic. I can see how insane and cool Roman Cancel combos are. I can hear all the awesome music in the soundtracks. And I see all the blood, sweat, and tears poured into this series to make it the coolest hard-rock fighting game it wants to be and I really want to like it.
But I don’t... God, it’s Samurai Shodown all over again.
I just can’t get into this series, man. Something, some things about it keep me from fully enjoying it. Mostly some petty things that just add up and tumble the pile over, but things nonetheless. 
And... I wanted to talk about that a little. 
I wanted to just let out all my love and misgivings for the Guilty Gear in hopes of finally purging all the negative from my being, or at least write it out in a constructive manner so I can lay all my transgressions bare and maybe... possibly... actually want to purchase and play Strive on launch day.
But first, as usual, a synopsis. 
The Guilty Gear series is a fighting game developed by Arc System Works, helmed and created by Daisuke Ishiwatari, who I know as the composer of the Blazblue soundtrack, but has quite the large track record that I won’t go into here. Guilty Gear as a story focuses on the lone bounty hunter Sol Badguy, a human experiment known as a Gear, half-human, half monstrous being of science and magic. The storyline of each game tends to focus on Sol finding the humanity in his would-be marks as well as confronting the still-lingering humanity in himself as he copes with both his self-loathing and loathing the for one who made him this way, a scientist simply call That Man, or Asuka as the most recent games have shown us. The storyline itself is long and complicated but as of Strive it seems the final battle between Sol and That Man is finally at hand and the battlefield will be the United States.
Gameplay-wise, Guilty Gear is a fast-paced, combo-centric series that uses chaining attacks that can cancel into special and super moves, along with the unique Roman Cancels, which slow down time and leave your opponent open for more punishment mid-combo. Think the Chain Shift in Under Night with a bit more hangtime if you want a comparison, or the Rapid Cancel of the Blazblue series with a slowdown effect and more flash. 
And with the basics out of the way let’s talk about the specifics.
The Good Things
Of course, that isn’t to say I hate this game series. There’s a lot I like and enjoy about the Guilty Gear series that I’ll go into greater detail in a later essay, but for now I’ll give a brief mention of all the things I enjoy about it.
The Music
I was introduced to Daisuke Ishiwatari’s music through Blazblue, and while I love Blazblue music to this day I’ll also admit that it sounds very... video game-y. It doesn’t sound like something that could be listened to from anything other than a game. But Guilty Gear music sounds like actual music. I don’t mean that in an insulting way toward Blazblue, but... man does Pride and Glory sound like something you’d listen to while driving your pickup truck on the highway. Damn, does Get Down to Business sound like something an actual rock concert would play. And the Xrd soundtracks sound so good man. One Dawn, Enough is Enough, Starry Sky, Lily of Steel, they all sound so damn good. And as cheesy and over-the-top as they sound I love the LA and NY Vocals of this series. Personal favorites are Keep Yourself Alive II, Fuuga, and Suck a Sage. 
The Aesthetic
If there was one thing I didn’t really like about Blazblue it was a lot of characters, even the ones I mained, had an aesthetic I just couldn’t latch onto. A weird mix of fantasy, eastern, and early-2000s action anime that just didn’t click with me save for Hibiki Kohaku. Guilty Gear is a lot more my speed with a more rugged look to their characters. Something about a lot these characters just have that good mix of grunge and 90s fashion I love. Some of my favorites being Answer, Ramlethal, and Jam.
Tension
While there’s a lot about Guilty Gear’s mechanics I find unappealing and convoluted I love how building and using meter works in this series, specific in Accent Core Plus R. Dust being a sort of EX button works really well in this game since I personally feel like Dust is kind of under-used a lot of the time save for the universal sweep.  This point probably won’t get an entire essay covering it, but I did at least want to give it a shoutout.
Setting
This point will be getting its own essay, but to keep things short and simple I like the setting of Guilty Gear, medieval-esque magitech with a dash a modern-world flavor just hits with real well with me. Like a nice mix of Under Night and Tales of Symphonia.
And that’s it for the good stuff, at least the good stuff I can make into later essays. Now let’s talk about...
The Conflicting Things
Really, my issues with Guilty Gear are similar to Samurai Shodown and Granblue Fantasy Versus, where I love those game aesthetically, but actually playing them is another matter. However, unlike those two games my issues are almost the opposite. Where Samsho and GBVS had a slower and more fundamentals approach that didn’t appeal to my cocaine-esque addiction to combo chains, special cancels and air-dashing, Guilty Gear is almost too fast for my taste, or at least a different kind of fast. This is something very hard to explain. If you've read my initial thoughts on Crystar then you have a good idea about what I mean. This is something very hard to explain to people that haven’t played the game and is likely more a technical part of Guilty Gear’s mechanics that I can explain with an real sophistication aside from saying ‘this game feels weird,’ but... I’m gonna’ try.
The Button Layout
Alright, this is something I can actually explain. I’m... not a fan of 5-button fighters. Really, anything more than 4 buttons is hard for me to grasp. This is mostly due to the fact that I use a standard dualshock controller when playing fighting games. I frankly don’t have money for an arcade stick nor the patience to figure our how to work with one, so I’m stuck with the PS4 controller. For games like Blazblue, Granblue, and even stuff like Tekken and Dead or Alive this works out fine, as even when those games have a fifth or six button they usually aren’t heavily involved in combos or can be supplemented by other means. But games like Street Fighter, Skullgirls, and Guilty Gear the fifth and sixth button are used very liberally. Granted, Dust isn’t used as often as heavy punch, but it’s still a key button used for sweeps and air combos, turning my hands into pretzels as a results. 
I don’t you dare tell me to just get use to it or get good. I’m a Carl main. I’m used multi-tasking with my hands.
...
...
...
Dammit, that came out wrong, but you know what I mean. 
Anyway, a smaller issue I have is just the way Punch, Kick, Slash, and Heavy Slash are mapped both on the controller and on the display screen. It just doesn’t mesh well with me where they’re mapped, and switching the button layout honestly makes it worse because the display proper doesn’t adjust for where I map the buttons.
Roman Cancels
Roman Cancels are just a tool I don’t think I’ll ever find a good use for, or at least something that would take me a long time to use optimally. Like I said before, they’re basically Chain Shift with more hangtime, but it feels like the Rapid Cancel in the sense that I have to move very quickly after activating or I outright lose the combo, and unlike Chain Shift and Rapid Cancel where I can just ignore the mechanic, keep the meter, and focus on small, easy combos with good defense, Roman Cancels feel somewhat needed to do decent damage in this game. Or at least the trial mode really thinks so.
From what I’ve seen of Strive’s mechanics I think Roman Cancels will be a little easier for me to conceptualize and use, but... I dunno’, I’m not feeling too confident on that. 
I do recognize that this issue is a me problem, but it’s a probably I have nonetheless.
The Look
Specifically on Xrd, something about the 2.5D makes certain movements a little hard to read and judge. This isn’t something I can really describe that well, but something about that game specifically feels weird. Like the cell-shaded, 3D contrasts a little with the feel of motion in that game. I have a similar issue with the recent Street Fighter games as well. Again, it’s nothing concrete and it’s honestly indescribable for someone of my knowledge on the subject, but... something feels awkward when I’m playing this game in a serious light.
The Fandom
This has nothing to do with the game, but tends to create cracks in me when I play this game. As a guy that got into Arc System Works games via Blazblue Calamity Trigger, seeing a lot of the Guilty Gear be demeaning and insulting toward the Blazblue Community has always rubbed me the wrong way and I have a difficult time getting into this series in a more serious way because of it. I know this is likely a vocal minority, I know this isn’t every Guilty Gear fan, but it feels like a vocal side of Guilty Gear community keeps thinking that Guilty Gear is some sort of antithesis to anime air-dashers like Blazblue, as if the grungy rock aesthetic cancels out the anime aesthetic of Blazblue. This has always annoyed me, but it tends to crop up everytime someone brings up Guilty Gear designs versus Blazblue designs and while I find the idea of discussing and comparing the two interesting it always seems to devolve into insulting Blazblue.
Though to give a short version of my opinion this: I don’t want to hear shit about Blazblue waifus when Baiken mains don’t even play Baiken. And I especially don’t want to hear shit about Blazblue’s pandering fanservice when Dizzy, Ram, and Elphelt exist.
About Strive
I think that covers the main things keeping me from liking Guilty Gear, or at least playing Guilty Gear. So I want to talk about Strive, the next game coming up. This will also be something that will be expanded on in a later essay, but for now I’ll say I’m cautiously excited about Strive coming out and I look forward to at least giving it a shot. Though to give some rapid-fire bullet points on the matter... 
Overall, I think Strive looks great, the presentations is fantastic and I love a lot of the new designs for the characters, though I hear that opinion is actually contentious in the fandom.
I heard that Strive is gonna’ have a dub again. I’m... curious, but I’ll save my opinions for a different essay. Long story short, if they get a new director or the old director puts more care into the performances I’ll be happy. I did overall like Xrd’s original dub barring a few performances.
So far everything about Strive looks cool, but it’s still Guilty Gear, so... debating on if I wanna’ get that day 1. Especially since I still only have a base PS4. I’ve no interest in getting the new hotness for at least another year and gamers are self-centered demons that mock those using lesser hardware. That isn’t a Guilty Gear thing, it’s just a gamer thing.
For those wondering, if I pick of this game I’ll probably main Chipp, Ram, and maybe Giovanna.
I have mixed feelings about the soundtrack. Save for Smell of the Game the lyrics in the themes I’ve hard are a mix of okay to... not okay. Hope they have versions without the lyrics similar to Raven in Rev 2.
And I think that’s everything. Next... probably another essay about Arknights.
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beauvoyr · 5 years
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My Little Sister ☆ Can’t Be This Cute!
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Chapter 1 | Kiss Kiss Fall in Love!
Pairings: Noctis/Reader Genre: Romance Tags: Pre-Canon | Fluff and Humor | Eventual Romance | Slow Burn | Enemies to Friends to Lovers | Reader-Insert | Big Brother Ignis | Idol Reader Characters: Noctis, Ignis, Prompto, Gladio, & You, an Idol! Chapter Rating: G Crossposted on: ao3 Summary: Noctis thought he knew everything about his Advisor. And then there’s some. i: “Dude.” Prompto says. Noctis does his best impression of The Thinker dating from M.E. 655. “Iggy’s into this kind of thing.” Prompto asks, sans question mark. The shock definitely got to him. “Did you know about it.” Bros gotta protect each other’s secrets, right? Right. But the bro code never outlined an emergency protocol when two bros are pitted against each other. Who’s to say which bro is more important to him? ‘cause Prompto’s a bro, Ignis’ a bro, and asking him to pick between two bros is like asking him to choose either Assassin’s Creed or King’s Knight.
i:
Maybe Ignis has a thing for things like this, Noctis reasons. Under all that elegant pomp and heavily accented words rolling off a tongue peculiarly eloquent in jabs, steam-soft shirts and slacks swishing about as he walks, maybe he secretly harboured an interest in things betraying his stern and stoic stature. Being the personal advisor to the prince grants him no leeway in freely expressing his interests beyond what Noctis eats, which meetings Noctis should be attending, when Noctis finishes classes, and whether or not Noctis got over his lachanophobia. Which, according to Ignis Posh Scientia, is fear of vegetables.
(Noctis so does not have a fear of vegetables.)
(He just doesn’t like them.)
(Very much.)
None of his internal monologues answered why on Eos in this standard Audi commissioned to every Citadel staff, in this dull sedan with its immaculate leather trim and waxed dashboard, Ignis kept a CD.
An idol CD. The kind you’d find in a budget bin somewhere in Rock Corner for 90% off just because they want to get rid of trashy music as soon as possible lest it besmirches their shop’s status. Flashy pink booklet with signature of the iNTERGALACTiC ★ DiVΔ done in gold, sprawled all over its childish arrangement of what seems to be said Intergalactic Diva in the idolesque ensemble of flouncy skirt, crisp blazer scattered with silvery military embellishment, wearing the laciest pair of platform heels while simultaneously surrounded with stuffed toys. Stuffed toys. As if the whole setup made sense only to the art director like some army veteran crossing over the whole cute couture concept they’ve got going on here.
Noctis takes another good look at the CD. A deeper, closer, more intimate look at the girly plastic casing and its tracklist on the back as though it’d explain the enigma suddenly surrounding the secret life of his 21-year-old Advisor and his secret stash.
Six minutes later, Noctis replaces the CD where it belongs: Right in the deepest, darkest corner of the glove compartment, where no eyes may venture where his accidentally went.
And then he went on searching for his missing phone.
ii:
A month and a half later, Noctis is pleased to announce that he’s entirely forgotten about the idol debacle. While the matter had loitered around the recesses of his mind for a maximum of two days, it’s all water-under-the-bridge kind of thing because nobody got hurt and he’s not about to make fun of his Advisor for repressing the urge to listen to the peppy trills of an idol singing about high school crushes and unrequited love. Everyone’s got their own jam, like Prompto who’s always blasting Ron Goodwin out of one earpiece whenever they gather to demolish their assignments, and then there’s Gladio who’d sometimes slink onto the sofa with his nose buried in either An Inquiry into the Good or Romancing Sir Sigurd, and there’s no in-between.  
In fact, Noctis is actually more than happy to safeguard Ignis’ secret for the rest of his entire life just because he’s such a bro (or in his case, he conveniently forgot about it), but he’s also failed to take into account that Prompto’s exceptionally good at noticing things. Photographer quirk, he calls it.
“Dude.” Prompto says.
Noctis does his best impression of The Thinker dating from M.E. 655.
“Iggy’s into this kind of thing.” Prompto asks, sans question mark. The shock definitely got to him. “Did you know about it.”
Bros gotta protect each other’s secrets, right? Right. But the bro code never outlined an emergency protocol when two bros are pitted against each other. Who’s to say which bro is more important to him? ‘cause Prompto’s a bro, Ignis’ a bro, and asking him to pick between two bros is like asking him to choose either Assassin’s Creed or King’s Knight.
Noctis weighs the two. He chances a glance at Prompto’s shell-shocked stance of a hand barely touching the glossy cover of an・an unrolled from the boring brown paperbag of weekly groceries. There it is again, that iNTERGALACTiC ★ DiVΔ graces the cover in all of your majestic glory. Forgoing all the sparkling cuteness of a girleen for elegance, pearls in your sedate coiffure, smoky makeup and that white-tipped-fingernails thing girls do when they want to be extra fancy. You're pretty—no, beautiful, actually—but then again, when is a magazine cover not photoshopped? Yeah.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you this,” Prompto goes on at Noctis’ extended silence, “cuz I thought he was Moogling some recipe for dinner but dude, he was ordering her CD off Amazon. Thought that was a one-time thing so I was pretty meh about it,” he shrugs, “but y’know, it was so not a one-time thing because it was a five-time thing—”
Noctis makes a sound in his throat. Never underestimate a photographer’s quirk.  
“—and I’m really not gonna judge if he’s into idols since they’re cute,” Prompto nods along to his rambling which gets Noctis to nod along just to show he’s listening and oh he’s listening all right, “but it got me thinking.”
And when Prompto starts thinking, that’s when Noctis should start getting really worried.
As if guided by his instincts more than his rational mind, the blond extracts an・an and smoothens it on the table, palms pressing down the corners like this elusive evidence of Ignis’ intersecting interest in the idol world will do a comical poof and disappear in curly smoke. His stare hardens more than a diamond. “Iggy’s birthday’s around the corner, right?”
“Uh.” Noctis really can’t see where this is going and subtly wonders if abusing the powers of the Oracle would grant him a vision into the future for something like this. Would Luna grant him her strength in times of great emergency if he blasted a message through Umbra? “I guess? It’s next week. February 7th.”
Prompto makes a sound in his throat that is eerily similar to Noctis’.  And when he turns, Noctis thinks the light in his eyes is bright enough to banish the impending gloom and doom prophesized in the future. He might as well be the King of Light at this rate.
Prompto says, “Dude. I’ve got an idea.”
iii:
When Prompto says he has an idea, it’d normally be a great idea. “Wanna ditch and hang out at the arcade?” he’d ask, to which a 16-year-old Noctis would do a 180 from returning to class after lunch and misuse his warping talent to zip in and out of his classroom with his bag through the window, and they’d rendezvous at Club Sega just for diversion tactics. Blasting through zombie brains and kicking each other’s ass in Street Fighter, they’d spend the whole evening there unless Ignis hears them play hooky, usually by way of a ‘concerned’ teacher ratting them out at the very last second. At most, Noctis gets an earful that he evades with practiced ignorance with all that regurgitated nonsense of he’s the prince and he shouldn’t be skipping school, but.
This idea.
It’s very bad.
Noctis doesn’t know why, but it’s very bad.
Going up to the receptionist counter and boldly proclaiming that he’s the prince isn’t at the top of list of things he wanted to do because he’s really not into blatant exploitation of his title. But hey, it works. It takes one slack-jawed, starry-eyed intern whispering in awe, “Prince Noctis? Can I get your autograph please?” and a ballpen hastily scrawling across lipstick-smudged napkin later, he finds himself fidgeting on a stool in a bright dressing room, bulbs lining the mirror blasting him with light. Rolling racks are hanging with the most absurd yet lavishly decorated dresses decked in chiffons and sequins in all the colours a rainbow has to offer. Striped tophat completes what he thinks is a feminine form of a tuxedo, while thigh-high boots are stationed under a rugged combo of punk-rock aesthetics involving a PVC-belted skirt and metallic studs. The world of an idol is far more fearsome than the life of a prince destined to die, he thinks.
Prompto turns to him with the most scandalised expression ever after taking stock of the myriad of makeup products littered on the countertop, gasping, “That was way easier than I thought.”
“I’m just glad they didn’t kick up a huge fuss over it,” Noctis grunts. Then, as if the weight of what they’re doing is finally hitting him with the force of Gladio’s blows, Noctis blows a limp lock of hair out of his face. “We’re really doing this.”
Prompto cocks a brow and appropriates the plastic stool across him. “Dude, you’ve got a better birthday bash idea going on?”
Noctis couldn’t answer that.
No, really, he couldn’t even answer that because the moment he opens his mouth, the door opens instead. What’s he supposed to do other than to gape like a fish out of water, an expression he’s seen from all the fishes he strung up on his line, when you flounced right in? That hair cannot be natural, Noctis thinks, as he eyes the way light powders pastel purple tresses crowned by roses. Hands from who he thinks is your personal stylist are fussing over the deep wrinkles left by the rippling of your complicated dress, while the bespectacled woman beside you glares at him from behind a clipboard. Petals flaking from your cheek to your collarbone, filigrees cresting your shoulders—unless Photoshop worked in real-time, there’s no way a person would look that unearthly.
The way Prompto’s jaw is hanging tells him that he’s not alone in his thoughts.
Contact lenses are obviously the explanation behind your roseate eyes, there’s no other way he’s going to accept someone else having eyes that pretty. And false eyelashes, the kind that Gladio babbled about when Iris broke his bank wanting to experiment with makeup, yeah, that stuff’s definitely glued someway somehow on your eyelids. It makes sense that an idol’s job is to look pretty because looks sell either way and everyone loves a pretty face, so. Yeah. Noctis doesn’t know where he’s going with his train of thoughts because it’s on the verge of derailing right now, especially when those eyes flit to seek his and the corners of glossy lips curl with a sanguine smile.
You are unhesitant in striding forward to offer him your hand. Confident. Bold. Singsong sweet, the singer you are. “You must be Prince Noctis,” you say, and he’s never known that his name would sound that nice on someone else’s tongue. “Sorry you had to see me like this, I was in the middle of a shoot when you arrived.”
What was he supposed to say at times like this again?
Right, first: The handshake.  
His legs are jelly-filled donuts when he stands and his arms are wet spaghetti. Prompto almost toppled his stool when he gets to his feet to receive your hand after Noctis. “I, ah,” Noctis starts, smooth because they never rehearsed this far? And how is he supposed to be making demands as a prince to an idol? When Prompto’s rapidly zoning into outer space and ascending to Astral realm instead of helping him out right now? “Uh—I. We,” he quickly rectifies the moment the Bespectacled Woman’s dirty look peeps from the rim of her glasses, “we’re here to ask if you’d meet with my friend.”
And here is where he stops, just because your brows stitch together following a quizzical tilt of head.
That stuff only looks cute in anime.
And it doesn’t help that you look 100% anime right now.
A quick darting of your eyes from Noctis to Prompto has your smile deepening. “So that’s him?”
You’re definitely getting the wrong idea here and it’s up to Noctis to save the day by jamming his elbow right in Prompto’s side. An embarrassing yelp that shot Prompto’s soul straight into his body later, the blond’s back in commission with a shaky laugh. “Ha—who, me? N-no, not this Argentum!”
…or maybe not.
Noctis wills himself to stomach Bespectacled Woman’s increasingly incensed glare and tries to remember why he’s doing this in the first place. For his bro. For Ignis Scientia. Best advisor. Birthday. Gotta make it meaningful. Idols. Cute idols. Huge fan. You. Right. “He’s not here right now,” Noctis corrects the misunderstanding as confusion clouds your face, “because we’re trying to keep it a secret. His birthday’s on February 7 and we’re trying to make it a surprise party because he’s a big fan of yours.” At your unrelenting stare, he deflates a little. “He’s, ah, my personal advisor.”
For a second, silence reigns.
“Oh,” you say.
He doesn’t get a chance to consult what ‘oh’ means in Idol-Speak when Bespectacled Woman interjects, “So big of a fan until the prince himself has to abuse his authority and make Diva miss out on Gucci?” And boy, Noctis hates being on the other end of Death Ray shooting from her eyes.  
But you’re quicker to laugh at his honesty, batting the woman on her arm. “It’s okay, Isolde, I got this.” And for him, a mischievous smile replaces your prior confusion as you offer yet another handshake, this time for another reason altogether. “Aite, you’ve got yourself a deal! Let’s make this an epic birthday bash, yeah?”
When things work out far too easily, one should be suspicious.
Noctis, however, chalks it up to good luck when he hears Prompto splitting into a deafening, “Woohoo!” and answers your smile with a grin. The biggest, widest grin he could muster.
Because this is going to be the best birthday party ever.
iv:
This is not the best birthday party.
Ever.
There are tears down your cheeks and you’re choking on your words. Your makeup should’ve been a mess but some part of Noctis is thanking the Astrals that guided your makeup artist to apply waterproof ones, probably out of sheer experience, because he’s never seen anyone bawling this bad before. Whatever Iris had before doesn’t even cut close to this. Fists balled in your skirt, this verbal fisticuff doesn’t even look like it’s coming close to an ending. Even a fear-frozen Prompto’s clutching a gawking Gladio by the bicep and they’re far, far away from the warzone while Noctis is the only idiot brave enough to remain where he first sat.
That is, right in between an eerily silent Ignis and a Diva well underway your waterworks.
“You know well by now that my duty to Prince Noctis cannot be taken lightly,” asserts his Advisor in the calmest, coldest manner that could’ve frosted the entirety of Leide. “I’ve explained it to you time and time again that I’m—“
“You’re the advisor, I get it,” you choke out, “but I wanted a big brother that I could’ve talked to! All you did was to toss me aside like I was—“
“I never tossed you aside,” Ignis rebukes, the hiss of his words coming from thinning lips that is gradually downturned. “I received your calls, I replied to your messages, I listened to mother and father talking about you—“
“I’m always the one who has to do all the texting, calling!” you shriek in a pitch only sopranos could trill. Tears trekking down your cheeks, you are a sobbing, shuddering mess to Noctis’ left, the backs of your hands swiping away teardrops swaying off your jawline. “When did you ever call me!? When did you even bother to say good morning to me!? It’s always me who has to tell you—“
“I have a job,” Ignis retorts, adjusting his glasses from sliding down the bridge of his nose. “If I’m not carrying out my duties as an Advisor, I am at the Citadel attending meetings—“
This is crazy.
He’s going crazy.
In all honesty, he’s never tried watching soap operas for this very same reason: He can’t handle the drama. All the tears, all the angry exchanges, plots doing a backflip from I-love-you-so-much-I-will-die-for-you to I-don’t-love-you-anymore-because-we-are-actually-siblings-separated-at-birth. Galahdan soaps are notorious for pulling the rug under Prompto’s feet and making him drop series faster than his runs. But this? This is another level of drama, one that has Noctis nursing his throbbing temples because who would’ve guessed that said Intergalactic Diva is his Advisor’s little sister? And who would’ve guessed that not only Gladiolus Amicitia has a little sister, Ignis Scientia, too, has a little sister of his own?
Definitely not Noctis.
And definitely not Prompto and Gladio too, judging from how their eyeballs are playing ping-pong with how they’re chasing after Ignis’ accusations, only to have your indignant interruption instead.
While that explains why Ignis hides idol CDs and bought girly magazines, it does a poor job in explaining why he’s caught in a crossfire between the Scientias.
“You hate me,” you spit out, and woah what part of the episode did Noctis miss out? He’s pretty sure he paused on the whole you-never-spent-time-with-me, so how did it end up this way?
Ignis removes his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes scrunched tight with a pain only a brother could feel. “I do not hate you. I’ve never hated you, (y/n), never.”
“You hate me ever since I said I wanted to be an idol,” you sob out an octave lower, reddened eyes stabbing Ignis’ accusatorily. With how your bottom lip is quivering, it’s a wonder how your words manage to come out as a whole, sans stutters. “You said it’s a shameless job, you said they’re just exploiting high schoolers, you said—“
“But I respected your decision—“
“After ma and pa made you—“
“That’s because I was worried about you—“
“And I keep telling you not to worry because you met Isolde and you met Ninian and you met Watanabe—“
“And they are nice people but—“
—yeah, Noctis needs time out here because this sounds like a huge misunderstanding.
He composed a three-second plan and had it executed by standing up slowly and letting the chair drag right behind him across hardwood, letting the painful skrrrrrrrrrrrrrr scream cut off what's left of the argument. And what an epic entry into the fray it is, Noctis thinks. Ignis is riveted by his uncharacteristic boldness and has resorted to clicking his mouth shut. Your sobs don’t stop, but at least your red-eyed red-nosed red-cheeked face wordlessly thanked him for the interruption. From the sidelines, Prompto’s mouthing at him don’t do it Noct don’t get involved in the family feud but Six, Noct needs to straighten things out because technically he’s mildly at fault here for eating up his Advisor’s time by 70% even though it’s Ignis’ job, he thinks you don’t know how much Ignis actually cherishes your journey to idolhood and bought your CDs and magazines, and someone’s gotta eat that delicious two-tiered fondant-frosted cake on the table.
Besides, he’s going to be the King of Lucis, damn it, so what kind of king would he be if he can’t solve a petty squabble between two siblings?
Turning to Ignis, Noctis breathes out. “I got this.”
Ignis does not think he got this. “Noct—“
Turning to you, Noctis snatches a napkin from his armiger and crams it in your hand. “Listen, Iggy doesn’t mean anything bad,” he starts as you’re carefully dabbing your eyes, teeth raking across gloss-sticky lips. “I’m the reason he can’t spend a lot of time with you because it’s his job as my advisor and there’s no helping it.” This is where Ignis makes an indignant noise and tries to cut in, but Noctis warp-strikes to his next sentence. “—And that part where you said Specs doesn’t care about you? You’re wrong. He bought a magazine with you on the cover. He even had your CD in his car.”
Ignis makes another noise that sounds torn between vehement denial and dying embarrassment. “Noct—“
Prompto, the greatest wingman in every GTA heist they pulled off, nods so rapidly in his corner until he looks like he’s having a seizure. “Yeah—no, seriously, he did,” he convinces you when you turn disbelieving eyes at him, napkin crumpling under fancy nails. “And I saw him going on Amazon trying to get all your limited edition albums. Five times.”
“Oh Gods,” Ignis chokes out, burning an interesting shade that contrasts with his hair. “Prompto—“
“And we didn’t know that Ignis had a sibling because if we knew that Iggy had a little sis, we would’ve made him spend more time at home,” Gladio asserts, leaving his seat. “I know how ya feel because I’ve got a lil’ sister too. She calls me and texts me and nags me all the time if I don’t spend at least a weekend with her. Don’t get me wrong,” he adds when you turn sullen, putting up a hand to stop whatever retort you prepared, “I appreciate it when she does things like that for me. Sure, it gets annoying when I get nagged for missing movie night, but she’s my little sister and I got nobody else to protect except for this scrawny ass prince we have here.”
Noctis balks at the jab aimed specifically for him, fighting off the heat burning up his cheeks. “Shut up. You’re missing the point.”
“—a-anyway, the point here is that Iggy really cares for you even when you think he doesn’t!” Prompto crows when you look like you traded your sullen expression for a wobbling lower lip and eyes flooding with fresh tears. “We swear this is probably just a huge misunderstanding and we can probably talk this out to fix it! Right, Ignis?”
Such bros they are, never once allowing Ignis to shoulder the blame alone. Always we and never him.
Ignis looks like he has half the mind to surrender to the Astrals’ machinations hell bent on messing up his birthday—only, everything comes to a stop when you sniff. A loud sniff. And erupt into the biggest bawling session ever, dashing straight to Ignis’ arms. His poor Advisor gets his life squeezed out of him, smothered in his little sister’s death grip, but Noctis knows the glassy sheen in his green eyes isn’t a trick of light.  
Noctis clicks his mouth shut and eyeballs Prompto and Gladio, who’re trading self-satisfied smirks between the three. Sure, maybe you’re crying harder than Iris when she got ratted out at the Citadel, and sure, the sounds are hideous like a behemoth’s mating cry, but it’s a job well done for all of them.
All’s well ends well.
v:
It is much later on, when you’ve dried your tears and Ignis changed out of a tear-streaked snot-soaked shirt, that they’re all gathered round the dining table with party poppers readied and candles glowing. That delicious two-tiered fondant-frosted cake dips under Ignis’ plastic knife and, under a shower of glitter paper and confetti, Noctis plates the first slice for the man of the hour. Turning 22 is hard work for Ignis who’s probably grown up feeling like he’s 30 all the time, and his Advisor probably deserves a medal of honour from the king for putting up with Noctis all the time, but this?
Eating cake together with his friends?
And having solved the sibling squabble between an attention-starved little sister and her excessively diligent big brother?
This is the closest he could get, he guesses.
one:
They’re crowding around him again.
“It must be nice being the prince! I bet you can do whatever you want!”
“So how many servants do you have? Ten? A hundred?”
“Noooo, it must be a thousand!”
Noctis Lucis Caelum, the name of the prince who stole your brother. Iggie was promised to the prince ever since he turned eight, and stopped being eight at that moment. For a boy who stole Iggie, he doesn’t look special. Sullen and withdrawn, cherub cheeks and choppy bangs. Hardly a word passing his lips as though nobody is deserving of his voice. You know, because you sit right beside him in class. Always staring at the skies as though the Astrals spoke to him in tones a human can’t, the prince surely daydreams of things only a prince could daydream about. Living in the grand Citadel with a hundred—no, a thousand helping hands, and your brother is simply one of his faceless servants.
You do not know if you detest him for stealing Iggie away or if you envy him instead.
Because he gets to spend more time with Iggie than you ever did.
two:
This is a memory you removed from your treasure box, a careful hand dusting over the grime caking the frame. It is a class picture of all the first graders, bobbed haircuts and flushed skin from sitting under a sun, trying to stare into the camera as sunlight flares off its lens. Arranged from left to right in the first row: Asuka and Sheryl are inseparable from the start; Ben, Jonathan, and Yukio are the rascals always running down the hallways when the teacher says not to; your homeroom teacher, Madam Maria, who teaches maths before lunch; crybaby Aina who doesn’t like eating alone; fraternal twins, Rebecca and Junior are always holding hands; Noctis and you, two seemingly unrelated people who are, in all actuality, related to each other by way of Ignis Scientia.
Even as you take a closer look at the yellowing photograph curling around the edges, you still don’t know what Noctis is thinking about.
Does he know about you?
Does he know about your existence?
What about your family name? Surely he’s noticed it?
If so, will he finally relate you to your brother?
Will he finally notice you?
And will he finally return Iggie to you?
three:
Mother packed your lunch today; your favourites, rice with heart-shaped sprinkles in pink, deep-fried chicken, egg mayo salad, and steamed crab cakes. Here, you are swinging your legs, chopsticks picking off one treat after another. Asuka and Sheryl are giggling from the corner of the classroom, trading side dishes like sisters from the same womb. Aina’s gone ahead and joined Rebecca and Junior at their tables, dragging her chair over with a ringing scratch over the tiles. Somewhere outside the class, on the field below, the boys are immersed in a quick football game and trying to outdo each other for the qualifiers next week. They’ll surely come back into class later, reeking of salty sweat in this humid summer, which makes you bite into your crab cake a bit harder.
At least they have friends, you think.
At least they’re not alone, you think.
Not lonely like me, you think.
Is the prince capable of feeling loneliness like you do?
Of course not.
He always has your brother with you.
Always.
NOTES:
first off: if you feel you aint cute, you cute af. You cute as all hells in this fic. Believe in yourself you a cutie patootie 2019!
secondly: we’re going to be dealing with a lot of body image & skin problems & self-esteem issues in this fic, so that’s a heads up.
thirdly: HAPPY, HAPPY, HAPPY BIRTHDAY IGNIS SCIENTIA!
Chapter 2: What ‘bout My Star?
Someone stands before Noctis, and it’s not his bespectacled Advisor brooding on his tendency to sleep in, which is truly unbecoming for a prince. It’s a girl, veiled by an anti-pollen face mask, wearing the roundest pair of hipster glasses he’s ever seen. Nondescript snapback, shirt and acid wash jeans—what is this, why does he feel oddly scrutinized under her eyes and why does she even look at him that way?
Noctis blinks in hopes of clearing the mirage, fails to find an explanation, and affords a minute of silence before going, “Uh?”
For a moment, he thinks she’s smiling—her eyes crinkle upwards, but when it comes, it shakes the breath out of him. “Morning, Noctis. Diva here.”
It, meaning your imaginary punch to his solar plexus.
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writingpaperghost · 3 years
Text
There is a Me Who Can Become Strong (Chapter 19)
Chapter 19: A Sudden Fantasy!?
It's time to defeat Kuroto's Bugster! But something's weird about this one...
I have updated the tags. For this chapter at least, the Suicidal Thoughts, then we have mentions/implications of the Experimentation and the Emotional/Psychological Abuse. If that bugs you, just skip Emu's scene at the end of the chapter, it's the only one he has so it's easy to find. I'll summarize it at the note at the end.
AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32857183/chapters/84134380
When Emu Hojo was eight, his life changed, due to several events. First, he was hit by a car, then he met Doctor Kyotaro, then, he made a new friend. He’d been alone in the hospital, still unsure of what to think, when a voice that had interrupted his surprise of being at the hospital, spoke again.
“Is this what you do all day?” The voice asked, “Sit around in a bed and do nothing but play games?”
“No,” Emu said quietly, “I���m usually at home.”
“…Then why are you here?” The voice asked in a bored tone, “Why don’t you go home?”
Emu just frowned, “I’m not allowed to leave until they’re sure I’m all better,”
“That’s boring,” The voice said, “I can’t wait until you get out of here.”
At that comment, Emu’s brow furrowed, “Who are you?” He asked, “And why don’t you leave on your own?”
The voice didn’t immediately respond, “Well… I can’t leave? I guess I’m just in your head, so I can only go when you go.” He’s quiet again, before finally introducing himself, “Uh… I guess I’m… Huh… Uh, Parad? Parad sounds nice.”
That was the day that Emu and Parad first met. The day they last saw each other was much different. Genius Gamer M had just won a tournament, his opponent a twelve-year-old going by Genius Gamer N. They were leaving, when for one reason of another, most likely the doing of some outside force, he fell and was knocked out.
When Parad awoke, it was in a static haze. He’d shaken his head and it finally cleared; he realized a strange thing. He had a body – that obviously wasn’t Emu’s – and then he saw a horrifying sight. There were people dressed in all white, on the ground, glitching. He stared at them and then they’re gone.
Looking around the room, he can’t see Emu. He makes the logical assumption, no matter how painful it was for him. Parad assumes that he killed Emu, because that was the logical conclusion given his information.
At that moment, he made his decision. Emu had held the dream to be a doctor, to make people smile, to be the beacon of light to children that Doctor Kyotaro had been to him. Parad would fulfill his dream, even if he had to do it as Emu.
When would be the next time that Parad and Emu met? Next it would have been… Perhaps one of Gemn’s appearances, certainly no later than when Kiriya had tried to prove that Kuroto was Gemn. Yet Parad hadn’t realized it. The very person he’d built his life around, for the past six years, had been alive the whole time and when he was finally faced with him again, Parad hadn’t realized. It took Kuroto telling him, Kuroto declaring to everyone…
“M – Parad,” Nico placed her hand on Parad’s shoulder, snapping him out of his thoughts, “I know this is a lot but… But we have to do something about Kuroto.”
Saki already knelt at Kuroto’s side, saying something. Nico leads Parad closer and he begins to focus on what Saki is saying. “Kuroto, you’re our patient now, regardless of what you’ve done,”
“Don’t bother,” Kuroto quietly said, “It’s a waste of your time.”
Nico huffs, “Idiot, we’re going to fight the Bugster infecting you and then we’ll cure you.”
Kuroto pulls himself into a sitting position, “No, you won’t. It doesn’t matter if you defeat the Bugster-” He grunts in pain as the glitching continues, “-I’ll die either way.”
Parad can see the screen displayed by Saki’s Gamescope. Kuroto was infected with Shakariki Sports, but that wasn’t the strange part, given it also showed he was infected with Perfect Puzzle and Knockout Fighter. Unless the stethoscope was wrong, his infection level was already at sixty-five percent and rising.
“What do you mean?” Saki inquired, deep concern flashing on her face.
Grimacing, Kuroto answers, “I was infected by Mu. That’s all there is to it. Just… Just know I didn’t have a choice in this.” Looking away, Kuroto pulled the double Gashat out of his coat pocket, holding it towards Saki. “Take this, it should help you.”
After staring at the Gashat for a moment, Saki takes it, “I don’t understand,”
“You don’t have to,” The laugh that accompanies that statement is bitter, “We’re all pawns in a game that we don’t have a choice in playing.” He gasps.
The infection’s rose to seventy-five percent. “Please, just… just try to help Emu, He doesn’t know the truth of what’s going on. He doesn’t understand the stakes of the game – not as well as he thinks he does.”
With one last cry, a Bugster, Charlie appears, already separating from Kuroto. Yet, something was wrong with Charlie. Visibly, he still had a large amount of glitching over his body. But there was something else, nagging at Parad. There was something just… Just wrong, about Charlie.
Nico glances at Parad, “Hey, you gonna be good, or should Saki and I handle this?”
He shakes his head, “No, no, I can handle this.” He pulls out his double Gashat, Saki takes out the Gashat that Kuroto has just given her, and Nico holds Drago Knight Hunter Z and Bang Bang Shooting.
Perfect Puzzle!
Taddle Fantasy!
Bang Bang Shooting!
Drago Knight Hunter Z!
Dual Up! Get the glory in the chain, Perfect Puzzle!
Dual Up! Tadoru Meguru RPG! Taddle Fantasy!
Do-Do-Drago Kni-Kni-Kni-Knight! Dra! Dra! Drago Knight Hunter! Z!
The armor of Brave Level 50 was not unlike the armor that was Fantasy Gamer. It was dark red and purple, with a long cape in the same colors. Ready to face Charlie, Nico jumps forward, slashing at Charlie, who dodges out of the way.
Parad’s about to join, when a strange sound comes from Saki. She grunts and the eyes on her helmet flash red. Around her, Bugsters appear, quickly turning their attention towards Nico and Parad. She grabs her head with a grunt.
From behind them, Parad can hear Kuroto call out, though weak, “She’s being influenced by the Gashat. Since she’s unused to using such power, it’ll be taxing on her body and hard to control.”
Shaking her head, the red disappears from Saki’s eyes and she turns her attention back towards Charlie, the Bugsters following suit. Nico hadn’t initially noticed what happened and now stared at the Bugsters in confusion, then shook her head and returned to dodging Charlie’s attacks.
Refocusing, Parad watched for a moment as Charlie destroyed all the Bugsters with little issue. That was another thing. Usually, the Bugsters they fought were Level 5, that had been the case with the past three, at least. But Charlie didn’t seem like he was only Level 5, it seemed like he was stronger than that.
Charlie rushes at Saki and Parad, prompting Parad to dodge out of the way. Instead of dodging, Saki raises her sword and blocks, then pushes Charlie back and slashes him. Parad begins to arrange the power ups, while Saki continued to fight Charlie.
Off to the side, Nico huffed, “You two are getting all the fun,” Then she glances back at Kuroto, who at this point was lying on the ground again, his body glitching more than ever before. “We’re… we’re going to need to be quick.”
Parad just nods, focusing on the arranging the power ups into the perfect combo. Charlie briefly knocks Saki back, prompting Nico to fire at the Bugster, attempting to hold him back. Finally, Parad’s has his combo in order, combining strength and flexibility power ups. Saki inserts the Gashat into her Gashacon Sword.
Perfect Critical Combo!
Taddle Critical Finish!
The two attacks land on Charlie, who briefly glitches, before being destroyed. A cloud of purple data rises from him, then seemingly rushes off in a direction. Dropping the transformation, Parad sighed and relaxed slightly. Though the attempt at relaxation is interrupted by Nico.
“Uh, now I’m no expert,” She calls, “but I don’t think he’s supposed to keep glitching, right?”
Saki and Parad both whirl to face Kuroto, Saki rushing over to him, Gamescope already in hand. She scans him, only to see that the infection has continued to rise, even though they’d just defeated Charlie. He should be cured but…
“I told you,” Kuroto grunted, “I would die no matter what you’d do.”
“Why?” Nico groaned, “Would it kill you to be less vague?”
While Parad thought it was probably a poor choice of words, he also thought he knew the answer. “Because Emu was the one to infect him. And Emu’s Patient Zero, so the strain is different than any other time we might have encountered the Shakariki Sports strain,” He takes a few steps towards Kuroto, looking at the man, “Emu infected Hiro, right? That’s what he said to Saki.”
Yet instead of answering, Kuroto just sighed, “You need to find him,” He insisted, like that wasn’t already a high priority on Parad’s list, now that he knew that Mu was Emu and he was still alive. “Before… find Emu before he does.”
That’s the last thing that Kuroto said, before he too disappeared in a cloud of glitching pixels. At first, no one’s sure what to say.
Finally, Saki quietly says, “He disappeared so quickly,” She looks down and her fists clench, “Just like Hiro.”
There’s a silence again, until Parad just falls to his knees.
“M?” Nico called, “Are you alright?”
“I… I thought he was dead. I thought I’d killed him.” He’s trembling, his shoulders shaking as he continued, “Everything I’ve worked for, becoming a doctor, a Rider… It was because I wanted to make Emu proud. I wanted to fulfill his dreams for him. But now… Now he’s just been alive the whole time?”
Saki takes a step towards him, “Parad…” She quietly begins, “You couldn’t have known.”
“I should have known. I should have looked for him, after we were separated. I just saw the scientists and assumed!” Though his head is facing down, making his face hard to see, Saki saw the glistening tears that began to fall down his face, “He doesn’t even – I’d have never of even – what happened to him? Why would he work with Kuroto? It’s just not like him!”
“We don’t know what happened to him,” Nico reminded, “It’s very possible that whatever’s happened to him may have changed how he feels about certain things. Besides, didn’t Kuroto say that Emu doesn’t know what’s really going on?”
Though Saki soon added, “Though we don’t know how true anything Kuroto said is.”
Parad just shakes his head, “I just… I…” He sounded almost defeated when he finished, “I don’t know what to do.”
Walking to his side and placing a hand on his shoulder, Saki responded, “Neither do we,” Then she reaches in front of him, holding her hand out to help him up, “But we’ll figure something out. We’ll find Emu and we’ll learn what’s going on, we’ll find a way to help him, to show him the truth about what he’s doing and what we’re doing.”
Hesitantly, Parad takes her hand and stands. “Let’s… I need to go home. Today’s been… Way to long.”
Nico grins and walks up, gently hitting him on the arm, “You do that,” She gestures to Saki, “We’ll tell Kagami and Taiga what happened.”
---
Emu doesn’t know what to do, he just ran and ran until he just couldn’t run anymore. He killed Kuroto. Just like he’d caused Graphite’s host to die, or more accurately, like how he killed Lazer. But his legs couldn’t keep going anymore, so he just falls to his knees, panting. He’s tired, his head hurts, he wants to pass out but he knows how dangerous sleep could be and he knew he couldn’t just do it anywhere.
He wanted Graphite; someone he could depend upon. But he didn’t know where Graphite was and he knew that if Graphite had been watching he most likely would have already appeared. So Emu would just have to make it back to his and Kuroto’s – to his base on his own. He just had to make it a bit further…
But he couldn’t get up right now, all he could do was take solace in the fact that the Riders hadn’t followed him and were instead dealing with Kuroto’s Bugster.
He was so terrible. He’d infected Kuroto, his own brother. Kuroto wasn’t even wrong about how he was a disappointment. Emu was more than a disappointment, surely. He was a failure. God. He didn’t even want to think about how he’d have to talk to Masamune about this. Emu would have to tell him that he killed Kuroto. Certainly, Masamune would be upset.
Emu shivered, he didn’t like Masamune when he was upset, or more accurately described, disappointed. He could already see the look in Masamune’s eyes, and he could already see the scientists and the doctors with their cruel expressions and excruciatingly slow actions. He could feel the punishment already, the heartless laughter as the scientists and the doctors slices into his skin with slow and painful cuts, all across his body.
And that was only from the scientists… the only time Masamune ever did something himself was his punishments. Given how badly he must have messed up, Masamune’s punishment would surely be so terrible. It would be so much but… But it would be deserved, he’d done something wrong and that meant he had to be punished.
There was no avoiding it, Emu had accepted that long ago.
He wasn’t calm, not in the least. But he’d managed to get himself under control enough that there weren’t Bugsters everywhere, at least. Though he began to tremble the more he thought about it, the more he realized how badly he messed up. Not like he didn’t do that a lot, but he was certain that this is one of the worst times.
The first time had obviously been Zero Day, and now he’d messed up terribly again. No one would be happy with what he did. Maybe even Graphite would shun him for this. Emu was so terrible, he almost hoped that no one would find him, so he could just – just…
Emu should just die.
He’d accepted that too.
Footsteps echo in front of him, making him freeze. He was still so tired, but he knew he shouldn’t have stayed here so long. Now someone had found him. At best, he could just convince whoever it was to leave him be. The far more likely and worse outcome was that they’d do something and touch him. He wasn’t sure that he could keep himself from infecting them, there was no way he was that calm.
“Emu,” He recognized that voice. Emu’s head whips up, wide-eyed, seeing that Masamune stood before him. “What happened?”
Emu shakes his head frantically, “I’m sorry!” He sobs, “I’m so, so, sorry! I-I!”
“Emu,” Masamune repeats, holding his hand out to Emu.
He stares at the hand a moment, hesitantly raising his hand, about to take it, before he shakes his head again and remembers whathe is. Emu would certainly infect him if he took his hand, just like he’d done to Kuroto. “I’m sorry! I infected Kuroto!” He’s probably shaking worse than before, now, “I killed him! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”
At first, Masamune is silent. Emu’s certain that he might have messed up even worse than Zero Day. He’d messed up so badly, Masamune probably wouldn’t even want him around. Masamune would probably just give him to the scientists and doctors and then that’s all Emu would ever know. They’d just try to cure Game Disease that way.
Maybe it was the better way. Finishing this game was hard for a lot of people and put so many people in possible danger. Maybe Emu should just take it. Just take the pain and everything that the people dressed in white did to him. Surely it would be better. They’d be able to more easily find a cure. Emu shouldn’t be so selfish, to not want to experience that. To rather try something that was no guarantee when it was at least partially, if not more, his fault that Game Disease was as bad as it was.
Masamune grabs his hand, eliciting a startled gasp from Emu as he was pulled up. Emu can feel Masamune’s eyes on him, “Emu. My son threatened you, did he not?”
Slowly, trying to keep himself from shaking too much, Emu nods. Masamune continues, “Then there is no one to blame but himself, certainly not you.”
“But-!”
“Emu. You are far more important than him anyway. I’m not mad, if that’s what you fear,” Emu realizes that Masamune’s began to lead him somewhere. He’s not sure where and frankly, he’s too tired to care too much. If it was somewhere safe, where he could rest, then that was all that mattered, at this point. “We still must complete the game, after all.”
“Of- of course!” Masamune still has ahold of his hand when Emu answers, “So we can cure everyone!”
Nodding, Masamune glances at Emu, “Yes, including yourself. Then you won’t have to worry about this ever happening again.”
“It… It won’t take much longer, will it?”
“No more than a couple months, I’m sure,” Masamune’s answers makes Emu feel a bit better. Really, knowing that Masamune wasn’t mad at all was a great relief. That meant that he probably wouldn’t be sent back to the scientist and the doctors. That he wouldn’t be punished for killing Kuroto.
Maybe… Maybe Emu wasn’t so terrible.
---
The summary for Emu's scene:
Emu's upset and is taking infecting Kuroto badly, fearing that he'll be put through more experiments. Then Masamune shows up and assures him it's fine, he doesn't mind that Kuroto has died, Emu's more important. Then he reminds Emu the game must be completed, to which Emu agrees, ready to get back to work soon enough.
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varjopeura · 5 years
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For the D&D Ask Meme - 4, 8, 13 and 34! (And I'm SO curious about the backstory-bomb referenced in your tags, so if I can make a bonus question be, 'what happened???' then also that!)
Hoo boy, this one took a while! Also this got super long so under the cut it goes:
4. Your current campaign.
Our current campaign is also my first! We’re playing on Tal'Dorei setting with a mostly homemade storyline (as far as I know? it occurs to me I’ve never really asked). We’re only six sessions in at this point, the party is still just a bunch of nobodies stumbling around figuring out this adventuring stuff and getting to know each other.
8. Your favorite fight/encounter.
I think my favourite fight so far was the time we got our asses handed to us pretty thoroughly by a bunch of ghosts. It was terrible and delightful and something about properly losing a fight made the whole world just seem so much more real and intense. Like we are just babies when it comes to adventuring, and going ghost-hunting into a crypt that’s widely known to be cursed and deathly dangerous might not be the best idea at that point in time. Especially if your magic users have already pretty much emptied out their spell slots before going in.
But, in we went anyway! We knew to expect ghosts since we had already slain a couple on our way there, and had comprised a Genius Plan to take out the rest of them one at a time. Except the plan didn’t really work, the ghosts didn’t come at us one at a time, and they were a lot stronger than the ones we had previously encountered.
We managed to barely scratch the ghosts (the horrendous things were resistant to everything we had), half of our party was too afraid to do anything useful, and Glimmer had to carry two of her unconscious teammates out of there before we managed to flee. It was a mess, and a very stressful situation, but hey, we survived! And it felt so good to be alive afterwards!
In retrospect, the five or six times our friendly NPC informant told us the ghost are absolutely going to kill us oh-so-very-dead might have been a hint from the DM…
13. Introduce your current party.
Let’s start with the easiest one, my tiefling cleric Glimmer! She is definitely the party mom and sort of their moral compass too, constantly worrying about the safety of the others. She worries about a lot of stuff, actually, and the fact that she knows very little of the world outside of her home temple doesn’t exactly help. Though she does believe in the goodness of people and has a tendency to blindly trust anyone who looks like they know what they’re doing. For such a soft and gentle person she has a surprisingly short temper when something rubs her the wrong way, and she gets all fiery and dramatic when she’s upset.
Then there’s our human fighter Gabriel, a young man of noble origin seeking for his share of honor and glory, mainly in the form of slaying various magnificent beasts and monsters. He is highly charismatic, VERY easy to love, has exactly zero impulse control and, to be quite honest, not a lot of brains to him either. So practically he’s an over-excited golden retriever with a sword and an ability to speak in a fancy way. A good boy.
The elven rogue Varis (fun fact: his name is the finnish word for crow) is a typical thief character, a penniless city boy that’s concerned about his own survival before anything else. And, like, I’m definitely not picking favorites here, but this one’s a GOOD boy that I love. A lot. A fountain of endless curiosity, he’s quaranteed to stick his nose in every single place it doesn’t belong to, and probably steal a little bit of something interesting on his way there. Somehow his personality also works as the glue that keeps the rest of the party together - it’s pretty hard to travel alone on your own path when this one gets all up in your personal space and wants to learn about alllll of your stuff.
The gnome ranger Nuna is pretty amiable for a person who has started several conversations with the phrase “I want to destroy the civilization”. From what I’ve gathered, she seems to be on some sort of personal crusade against all kinds of mechanical constructs and just has a pretty worrisome way of wording it. She does NOT enjoy crowded cities, though finding taverns full of ale seems to alleviate her stress a bit. I’m certain she’s got some daaaaark secrets too, I can’t wait until we find out a bit more about her story.
I’d probably call our elven wizard Volyris the other Sensible Adult in the party, if he wasn’t so horribly useless when it comes to keeping the chaotic ones in control. He just gets way too much joy out of wandering around behind Gabriel and Varis and observing all the dumb shit they manage to do. Clings to his secrets like his life depended on them, even after a couple of rounds of interrogation we have learned next to nothing about him. He just… wants to know more about stuff? For no apparent reason? Because that’s what wizards do?? I’m still not quite sure if he’s to be trusted.
34. Do you tend pick weapons/spells for being useful or for flavor?
Mostly I try to find some sort of balance between the two?Though tbh in Glimmer’s case, being a light domain cleric and a tiefling is already a combo packed with so much character flavor that I barely have to do anything to add to it :D Every single bit of Glimmer’s spells and abilities is infused with fire and light, and who knows if the flames she so easily channels originate from a divine source or from her infernal bloodline! She certainly doesn’t! (Also, I can’t wait until we reach level 5 and she learns to cast Darkness as a tief ability. Being able to both bring light around her and to take it away as she wishes is going to be such a fun twist to the basic light cleric archetype.)
And, for the bonus question, I miiiiight have exaggerated a little bit? Specifically on the “your entire past is a lie” part. Only a small part of her past turned out to be a lie, so that makes it completely fine, right? :DSo, basically, what I knew about Glim’s backstory was that she was abandoned to a temple’s doorstep as an infant, and that it was unclear who had left her there and why. Not knowing what else to do, the temple clerics took the child in and raised her as their own. (well that’s the relevant part, let’s leave the backstory at that because this post is already way too long)
But! In the last session the party went back to her home temple, met the old priestess who was the closest thing to a mother Glimmer ever had, and had a conversation with her. And it turns out she actually knows about Glimmer’s birth mom! She was just made to promise that she’d never reveal Glimmer’s origin to anyone, and up until this point she had kept the secret to herself. We were given a name (one that Glimmer recognized instantly; she used to be the high priestess of Glim’s home temple before she was born, and now apparently her mother too? Years ago, she had abruptly left her position as the high priestess, never coming back, and there was some sort of a scandal surrounding the event, but Glim couldn’t remember any details about it.)
So instead of a mystery, Glimmer’s origin is a well-kept secret, and according to her adoptive mother the person who knows the most about this secret lives right next door to them. As it was getting kind of late at night and barging into someone’s home asking questions about missing people in the middle of the night didn’t seem like the most polite thing to do, Glim decided to leave further questions to the next morning.
And did we reach the next morning during this session? Of course we didn’t! So now I’m full of questions and theories and have to sit on them for a few weeks because of our horrible Human Adult Schedules not lining up before the end of the month. (And while Glimmer was learning about her hidden past, our rogue was preparing to go on a heist. Alone. Without even telling about his plans to the rest of the party. And his target? The captain of the fucking town guard. Like dammit Varis, if I have to spend the next session busting you out of jail instead of trying to find my long lost mother I’m gonna kick your ass So Hard.)
((And like of course I should have expected something like this coming up with Glimmer’s backstory, ‘mysterious missing parents’ is like free plot food for the DM. Glim was just so busy worrying about literally everything else that it never even crossed my mind that we might hit some pieces of her backstory in her home town :D ))
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