#Please Your Omnipotence give this game a fair shake

[tsuki-sennin-creations]

Bue-Buenos Dias Muchachalatas- chachalatas- Chacha-

Limited Run Games did a presentation a few days ago, and my personal highlight was Arzette: The Jewel of Faramore! Such an exciting prospect I waited... a week to do something about it! A positively lovely homage to a pair of infamous adventure games that helped give birth to the grand Dadaist art movement known as YouTube Poop. It had me like "Ye! (brief pause) YESSSSSSSSS!" and to my friends I was like "Look at this FUCKn SHIT!" but in a *click* Nice way.

Seriously, words cannot express how much of my current appreciation for the strange and the terrible was truly shaped by this nonsense. From the ancient cravings of "Lotsa SPAGHETTI!" and "Dinner" to the extremely high concept works like Jeff Lindblom's Deltarune covers and Schaffrillas's Sharkslayer saga, and even the legitimately terrifying (and hilarious) Mr. Krabs's Unquenchable Bloodlust by Emperor Lemon.

Why am I sauce sauce- so excited for this game though? Well, it's quite simple Mah Boi, it takes a special kind of understanding to craft a good game out of a mold so... riddled with lumps. And if you ask me, WE WAS ROBBED of adventure games like this for a while!

Alright, I'll stop. What I'm getting at is "Go buy Arzette when it comes out because I really wanna see people take things they love and make new things out of them more often", ya dig? Right I'm gonna go see a man about a ship. That sails in the morning! I'm makin' waffles! for the trip~!

[miresofblack]

𝒊 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒌𝒏𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒔 — i never promised you an open heart or charity / i never wanted to abuse your imagination

𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔 : the date is may 25th, 1938, and spring is not the only thing twisting dark damsons by their stems. 

her clothes don’t fit quite the way she likes it – being away for months had meant she’d grown out of everything but aside from the lightness, she is clean and sprightly as spring rain, and has arrived at pollux black’s countryside estate like a strong current blowing through the drapes. the morning had been spent hovering about the entire estate, listening to her aunt’s mumbling about minding the carpet, the way the humidity clung to the glasses, fussing at every green thing in turn until alphard, poking his head out from the top of the stairs, asks if lucretia has seen the great dane in the courtyard.

“maybe i saw it the foyer,” she says as she draws closer to the railing, “but i saw cygnus cleaning today. what’s that all about?”

alphard finds her trivia hardly interesting but simply stupid. it’s obvious he’s busy about the dog and all, and what he does offer is not quite an explanation but a well-know fact: “cygnus doesn’t do many things, much less with cleaning anything.”

“oh.” lucretia’s hand settles on the edge of the railing where she lingers inconveniently, smiling like a thunderhead on a tether worth pulling. “you don’t say.”

-❈-

it’s noon now, and the day's heat is whistling through her kindling body like a greeting.

she looks behind her and finds that the light behind her is weaker — like looking at sunlight through a fine white cloth, orion is now sat at the hilt of the mound, a silhouette of grey and shadow no different than an unsuspecting doe resting in a round, makeshift nest of grass.

'can you believe—' (now rolling her eyes, a fine spray of lucretia’s flyaway hairs scatter with irritation in the breeze; in this way, it's true that lucretia has always been a thing of motion.) '—they're making me learn—' (and motion, like way of sound, can only be compelled to change its state by the actions of an outside force.) '—about those BEASTS!' (and lucretia, by way of law, will always be the one of two to carry that force.)

the way he sounds and looks at her seems to turn every leaf, every single one, to a breathless crisp. “what.”

“the half-beasts. i’m talking about centaurs.”

he glares for something else that isn’t her answer even if it is all the more unspectacular and irritating. “like you? you’re half-gnome yourself.”

lucretia wastes no time shoving him into the grass with the delicacy of a bulldozer. “don’t ever say that to me again.”

and then she felt a tug. it was the kind of tug like having a rug pulled out clean from beneath her, like a plug yanked out straight from a socket. and then another tug, carrying with it that same sense of surprise, the same sense of blinking and finding herself severed until she’s face-planted into the ground. the dead of spring breeding dead thistles that scratch her bare legs with each shock of pain with every tussle, shredding whiteness into her skin and pinpricks of blood in the afternoon glare.

"you SNITCH—” he mumbled between both of lucretia’s hands she’d placed over his face in attempt to ward him off. “now i won’t be able to go to the world cup game, because of what you did, you snitch!”

“stop it, cygnus!”

they strike each other hard enough to ring a two-tone bell, the sound mad as a bull and heavy and scarlet enough that it all but shakes the trunk of the trees.

“you shouldn’t have done what you did!”

the thought of it leaves an agitation, a trepidation, like wings beating in her chest, that precise half-moment she’d watched cygnus hide something in his pocket before going through a chest full of linens. at first she’d thought he had been cleaning, that perhaps had meant to launder the linens, but elves did the laundry and she’d found for herself the antique pipe he’d placed behind four layers of linen.

“you stole.”

“and was it worth it to have told? well, let me tell you something lucretia - nobody likes a know-it-all, especially one as stupid and sneaky as you.”

when she’s older the pressure of her disdain will smash windows, but for now it only rattles in her scowl, the spring air giving a violent rustle as if it’d developed the requisite nerves to feel cold. lucretia stands over him and delivers one final spat:

“i’m not to blame for the bad thing you did, cygnus.”

when she shuffles down the path that cygnus had led her to not long ago, the soles of her shoes drag on the dried-out flower heads that litter the path, slogging miserably and diminishing the brown husks to ash. cygnus is following in her tracks and calling out to her only to remain in miserable earshot.

it is only when she nears orion she is reminded her to correct her dizzied gaze. “do not ask,” is all she has to say, “but you may see later.” with a hand now at his forearm, she steers them to a less aggravating area of the estate. “ right now i’m thinking bad things because i’m mad.”

-❈-

there’s a lag in the star’s sparkle, a wrinkle, a chink, in the way she blinks and unwraps her eating utensils and crosses her legs at the ankles after taking her seat at the table. both violent with thistle and scalded like flowering dogwood refusing to be pared for the cold bark of winter.

“a-yā!” her mother’s hand pecks at her hair and the slit of dirt on her elbow. “don’t look so pestilent, lucretia. we’ve hardly begun to cut into our food.”

terse, but still shaken after the tremor of cygnus’ underfoot, lucretia decides to try her best to remain placid. “i’m sorry,” she exhales with a squaring of her shoulders, gently smoothing out the fabric of her skirt as each thistle catches her fingers like a small sting. now with butterknife in hand, she’s cutting into a scone and eyeing cygnus with the fondness of an arrow enroute to bullseye. “i guess that cyngus and i are just not good at playing fair.”

the other looks up in gummy embrace and toothy smile. “it’s all in good fun, really.”

“but lucretia isn’t used to such excitement...”

“she has to.” a third voice announces as graceful and filled with intent as a serpent, or arrowhead, both marked with imperial demand. “present afflictions tend to our future good - better she and orion scrape their knees in the bounds of our homes than be clubbed over the head by anyone else outside our gates.”

they all nod. but what they don’t say is that tyrants are blind to their own rubble until they are crushed by it; which is to say, there is a kind of joy in the being crushed, as well as a kind of apathy. that’s all holiness is, really – the joy of indifference. so lucretia sinks like a stone into her seat. at a glance, her expression is flat, the body looks discarded, like a doll flung akimbo, but she’s eleven and all play, a wind-up toy waiting to be vitalized again after dinner. she doesn't know words like hate, like smash, like pain, like war, like murder, but she knows that familiarity is a type of ownership, ownership a type of omnipotence, and so that famous black family spirit is naturally crammed tight into all four foot, eleven inches like a handful of a molotov cocktail.

so she’ll play along, and the look she levels him from across the table is scorched and barren from the height of day. “next time, cousin, we play a game that you won’t see coming.”

“— and, can you pass me the butter, please?”

[emilyplaysotome]

Part 37 - The Bachelorette

Down the Voltage Rabbit Hole is an ongoing story about our MC, who could easily be anyone in voltage fandom. She woke up in hospital bed only to discover that she’d somehow been transported Voltage universe.

This story is ongoing, so if you missed a part, or are new to the story, please use the link to the masterpost below to catch yourself up:

https://tinyurl.com/k4rrxna

Part 37 - The Bachelorette

I am not, nor have I ever been a religious person.

It’s fair to say that I am one of those people who would classify myself as “spiritual” in the sense that I like the idea of reincarnation better than heaven and hell, which has always felt so binary to me. 

I believe in the fact that we, as human beings, are limited in our understanding of the world around us. I have always considered myself to be agnostic, and I believe if God, or some higher power does in fact exist, he/she probably isn’t as petty as the God I learned about as a child in the bible stories that come to mind.

With that said, this particular God who ruled all over the heavens as king, appeared to be as petty as the God from the old testament.

“My poor little Zyglavis,” he said with an amused smile that I didn’t trust for a second, “Oh well! I suppose the events to come will provide me with great entertainment...and that’s really all I can ask of someone as insignificant as yourself.”

It was clear that this God was an omnipotent, all powerful shit-stirrer, and being aware of that fact I thought it unwise to rock the boat any more than I already had. I simply bowed my head in response, as I tried to formulate the best way to provoke him into giving me answers to all the questions that I was currently kicking around in my head.

When I found myself unable to find the right words, I found myself muttering an, “Um,” which turned out to be just as successful in inciting the king to engage with me further.

“Yes? Speak up human.”

“Your highness...you said I had a week. What do you mean by that?”

“The tome Huedhaut found - the door. I’ll be sure to give you a personal send off then.”

“But why in a week, why not just send me back now?”

“Because where would the fun in that be? The second I heard your thoughts to take someone home with you, I felt compelled to intervene. Giving you a deadline will only serve to make it a more enjoyable viewing for me.”

I had to chuckle at that - the king of the heavens was far more of a troublemaker than I ever anticipated. 

It was clear that intervention was not quite what he was after, and it would be more accurate to say that he wanted to shake things up and then bask in the afterglow. What he craved was obviously reality-tv style entertainment at the hands of a few Goldfish and one of his most trusted ministers. 

Not wanting to let him down, and seeing as how I have always been a fan of reality shows, I decided to take the bait and appeal to his desire for what I would consider to be good, trashy television.

“I’ll make a deal with you,” I said, fully aware of how brazen I was being towards a creature who could smite me with the snap of his fingers.

“A deal with me?”

The king of the Gods’ smile hid something darker, but I didn’t let that scare me. I was in the home stretch so to speak, and I was determined to win the otome game that I’d been playing these past few weeks.

“I get three overnight dates. One with each guy. At the end of the week I choose one of them to return home with me and you see to it that he’s able to do so...even if that means losing one of your ministers.”

“Oh-ho!”

It was suddenly clear where Leon had picked up that small quirk of his, and the King, visibly amused cocked his head to the side.

The idea of three overnight dates with three men, resulting in one winner evidently intrigued the king, as I figured it would. After all, the Bachelorette had built its entire franchise on this concept, and had managed to keep itself alive and booming for over a decade after it first premiered on television. 

If that format was good enough for millions of Americans I had to figure it’d be just as good for a God who loved a little drama.

“You know it’s forbidden for a Goldfish to lay with a God, do you not?”

“I do. But part of my deal with you, is that you allow it - you give us your blessing.”

“And what am I getting in return?”

“Entertainment. Each night this week you’ll be able to tune in and see what happens. Don’t you want to see if I’ll be able to seduce a man as steadfast as Zyglavis? Isn’t that why you were encouraging me to try moments ago? You want to test him. You want to know if his loyalty towards you can be swayed. But if it can...I get him. Do we have a deal?”

“We do.”

The king of the heavens seemed delighted at the prospect of watching me as the Bachelorette, and with a far off look in his eyes, muttered something to himself about being able to part with anyone other than his beloved Scorpio. Upon hearing that I wondered if Scorpio and the king might be lovers (considering his clear attachment), but seeing as how it was none of my business, and not wanting to engage the king further, I bowed once more and began to exit the bath.

“Goldfish.”

I paused, worried that the king might throw another curveball my way and timidly turned back to face him.

“Choose wisely. Good luck.”

With the snap of his fingers he was gone, and my time as the Bachelorette was just now beginning.

I’d watched a fair amount of reality tv in my day and knew full well what I was going to get myself into with these overnight dates. 

For once, the speed at which feelings grew between people in this world seemed to be beneficial, and I pondered how, on my overnight dates in a fantasy suite, I could accurately gauge the interest of “forever” with a man who I’d only known for a short amount of time.

On the show, The Bachelor(ette) they kept things vague in terms of how far things progressed sexually between the contestants, but knowing that I was going to be headed home in only a week made me certain insofar as how I wanted to handle things. 

I’m sure there will be many who would judge me for this, but I knew that I’d need to sleep with all of them (unless something happened on the date that prompted me to change my mind), in order to properly evaluate our sexual chemistry, along with our long term potential.

Back in Zyglavis’ room, I changed into my pajamas (not quite ready for bed) and sat at Operation GTFO HQ with my slice of cake and laptop. 

I had planned on starting to write lyrics for Revance, but with a new project fresh in my mind, I decided to focus on planning my last week in this world. Having been familiar with the king of the Heavens from the game back home, I knew him to be a trickster, who often set up situations for his own amusement. 

Even though he’d told me that he would send me home personally, I considered the fact that he might not be telling me the truth. He was the type of God who often did what would amuse him most, and if that involved me being stuck in this world, it was obvious that he’d have no qualms as far as backing out of our deal.

For the time being, I would stay committed to reclaiming my independence while going on my Bachelorette style dates. 

If the king were to back out of his promise to send me home, I hoped that Huedhaut and the other Gods might be able to get me back under the assumption that I returned to my old self and shook off the characteristics that kept me stuck in otome-ville.

With all this in mind, I did what I did best and put together a tentative plan for the week to come.

Tomorrow (or today, seeing as how it was 2:30 A.M.), I would go to Ryo’s cafe and whip up Revance’s lyrics for them. 

Once they were approved, I would ask the band to wire me payment for the songs which would hopefully cover a shopping spree on Sunday. Like any notable Bachelorette, I was going to need a fabulous wardrobe for my upcoming dates. 

The king of the Heavens was unfamiliar with the production value associated with a show like the Bachelorette, and in order to curry his favor I wanted to deliver. This meant using the money from Revance on gowns, hair and makeup, in addition to planning extravagant dates designed to create a real life fairy tale experience.

Once I secured the funds needed to bankroll a week of luxury and glamor, I would coordinate the first (and what may very well be the last) meeting of my restaurant club for Sunday night, knowing that Sakiko, Chisato, and the Conte MC would most likely be available. With a girls only friend date on the horizon, I then would assert my independence using the rest of Saturday as a day to bide my (alone) time by attempting to stretch my new fun-loving, free-spirited muscles.

I would have a “Treat Yourself” evening. 

I’d see a movie, go to a park, or maybe even try my hand at creative writing or read a book...anything that made me feel good. In this bizarro version of Tokyo there were plenty of things to see and do, and while most of the settings had been used as date backdrops, I was going to check them out myself.

With my Saturday now planned, I shifted my focus to what needed to be done on the following day.

On Sunday, I’d spend the morning and afternoon shopping with the money from Revance. Next, I’d need to book three different fancy hotels for my overnight dates - Tuesday/Wednesday, Wednesday/Thursday, and Thursday/Friday. 

I knew the schedule was aggressive, and that there was a nonzero chance I would be able to get all three men to agree, but I’d promised the king a show and I was determined to give him one.

It made the most sense to try and schedule Jin on Tuesday/Wednesday, seeing as how we’d just had a great date together and it would be easy enough to tell him that I couldn’t get him out of my head and wanted to see him again. He’d offered to take me out even if I was leaving Tokyo, so morally and ethically I didn’t feel bad on taking him up on that.

I figured having an overnight date with Shun during the Wednesday/Thursday time slot would be too aggressive (seeing as how I’d accepted his job offer and he was now my new boss), and planned to go out with him last, using our time at work together in order to line that up in the most natural way possible.

This meant that Zyglavis got my time Wednesday/Thursday, and I felt myself smiling with anticipation as I pictured what a date with him would look like. 

Unlike the other two men on my roster, Zyglavis was the most reserved. It was apparent that both Shun and Namba would have no qualms spending the night with me, but Zyglavis...he was a different story.

On that note, sexual chemistry in a relationship is something that has always been important to me, and while I knew that most of these nights would be awkward and chock full of navigating each other’s likes and dislikes, I hoped to walk away with a real understanding of how each man was in bed.

Was he communicative? Giving? Selfish? Tender? Rough?

I wanted to know before I could make my final choice, and I worried that convincing Zyglavis to break the rule of the heavens and lay with a Goldfish (despite the king’s blessing), might be an impossible task.

I sighed, alone in the empty room as I finished the last bite of my gateau slice, picturing Zyglavis somewhere in the heavens completely in the dark as to the fact the King had paid me a personal visit. 

It was obvious to me that he was the frontrunner in my heart, but that did not necessarily mean that he would be the best choice for my life back home. 

With such a short amount of time left, I’d need to really separate the fantasy of each man from the reality of what life with them would look like back in New York. Strong feelings and passion only go so far, and the most successful relationships are often between two people who share a deep mutual respect and friendship that results in an ability for them to grow as individuals, together.

On paper, Shun seemed to be the best fit for me. 

We worked in similar fields and I knew that he’d be able to easily find employment in New York. He was a cosmopolitan man who enjoyed the finer things in life, so living in New York City would suit him quite nicely. I could see him being a great plus one with my inner circle, charming them with his looks and manners, while also being able to hold his own in our conversations.

With this said, I needed to know if he was capable of being more than a charming, pretty face.

I worried he might be too much of a playboy for my tastes. I had little to no time to convince him to remove his mask for me, but I knew that before I could commit to him I would need to see who he was underneath his slick, creative director facade. 

I knew that I wanted someone who was kind and caring, and who, when things would get tough as they inevitably did in life, wouldn’t cut and run to something that seemed “easier”. 

Whereas Shun struck me as someone who preferred ease in his relationships, I knew that Namba could handle a rocky road from time to time. In the short amount of time we’d spent together, I was certain that he possessed the ability to be there for me in the way I wanted someone to be. 

The problem with him was his lifestyle. 

He’d told me himself that he’d been in the force for half of his life. He’d worked impossibly hard to move his way up to the high ranking position he was currently in and I couldn’t see him giving all that up in an attempt to join the NYPD or something similar back home.

I knew how close he was with his team and I worried that taking him home with me would force him into a world in which he was isolated and miserable. A scene of living with him in my studio apartment flashed through my mind, except this time he was depressed, smoking out a crack in the window while complaining about how gross and deplorable the city I lived in was.

Crime in New York City was so drastically different than crime in bizarro Toyko. Would he be able to handle terrorism? Murder? Sexual Assault? 

Or would the cruel world I came from destroy his optimism for life, and slowly beat him down day after day.

Finally, there was Zyglavis who would be trading in his unlimited cosmic powers for an itty bitty living space (literally speaking seeing as how I live in a small New York City studio apartment). 

He was the biggest wildcard of the group, and I had to think it was unlikely that should he be the one to join me he’d be able to keep his powers or immortality. With that in mind, could I even ask him to step foot through the door knowing that committing to me meant he’d be stripped of everything he found familiar. 

Furthermore, if he were to agree to do so, then what?

Zyglavis hadn’t worked a day in his life in the human realm. Would he be able to happily acclimate to his new life as a Goldfsih? Or would he lose patience with things and grow to resent me for dragging him along with me?

These questions weren’t going to get answered tonight, and with my eyelids growing heavy I decided to pick my planning back up tomorrow. 

I closed my laptop, hiding all traces of my upcoming plan should Zyglavis return prematurely and got under the covers, snuggling up to the pillow he’d laid on the day we’d almost kissed. It still smelled faintly of his hair and the lavender smell from the baths, and I hugged it tightly, quietly wishing that I'd see him sooner than I expected.

With the room pitch black, I found myself drifting off into a peaceful slumber.

That night, I had two dreams that felt more like a vision, and less like a mishmash of my subconscious trying to process the day. 

Both scenes took place in the King’s throne room, and I watched as the same conversation played out in two different ways. 

In the dream, Zyglavis was in his true form, which I had yet to see in real life. He was more beautiful than I could even attempt to describe, and in both scenarios I stood off to the side, as if I were an invisible bystander.

In the first scenario, the King had been the first to speak.

“Zyglavis, I have paid your Goldfish a visit.”

Zyglavis blushed fiercely, breaking eye contact with the King and said, “It would be inaccurate to describe Ami as ‘my’ Goldfish, but with that aside, why have you done so if I may inquire?”

“She and I have come to an understanding. She will be allowed to take a man from this world home with her, should he give his consent, and you are in the running.”

“Me?”

The king chuckled, seeing through Zyglavis’ feigned surprise.

“Yes. She even went so far as to demand my blessing...which I gave her. You should feel free to have your way with her.”

Zyglavis blushed furiously, unable to mutter anything other than, “Yes, your highness” as he stared down at his feet.

“But hear this - should you chose to go with her you will no longer be a Minister of Punishments. Scorpio will succeed you, and though you will be able to return to this realm once the mortal dies, you will be unable to return to the high position you currently hold. Gods will no doubt talk, and it could be entirely possible that upon your return you will be considered the disgraced God of Libra by your peers.”

“I see.”

“However, note this. True love is something that alludes both men and Gods in their lifetime. Many will go through this life never knowing what it is to experience something so priceless. If this is in fact love, you would be foolish to turn your back on it. Consider these words.”

“Yes your highness.”

With that, the king smirked and dismissed Zyglavis. He started to leave and then paused. Sensing his unease the king addressed him once more.

“What is it?”

“These...other men. Who are they?”

The king chuckled, clearly tickled to see his stoic minister showing signs of petty jealousy.

“Zyglavis. Fear not. You are a God. And a man is no match for a God.”

Zyglavis gave the king a small nod, and with that he exited. 

The king turned towards me, and breaking the fourth wall smiled, as he snapped his fingers.

A bright light flashed before my eyes and I saw the two together once more. In this second scene, Zyglavis was the first to speak.

“Your highness, you wanted to speak with me?”

“Yes, Zyglavis. As you know, I have paid the Goldfish a visit.”

“How did it go?”

“Swimmingly,” the king said, laughing at his own bad joke, “I have given you both my blessing. You should not feel as if you have to hold anything back.”

Zyglavis smirked, “I don’t think that will be necessary. Taking advantage of a woman’s affection is not my style.”

To that, an angry look flashed through the king’s face.

“Zyglavis - you will put aside how you normally proceed to ensure that she picks you. I cannot have her taking anyone from this world home to hers.”

Zygavis’ expression became stoic and obedient, “Yes, your highness.”

“My trusted Minister. I knew I could count on you.”

“You honor me your majesty.”

The king smiled, and then as if something unpleasant crossed his mind he became serious and asked, “Tell me, do you feel badly at all for the Goldfish?”

“A little, but it is for the greater good - the logical way to proceed. I look forward to the time when I can return to serving you and the Department of Punishments once more.”

“Very good. You are dismissed.”

With his head held high, Zyglavis coolly turned and exited the room. Just as he had in the first scenario, the king broke the fourth wall and with a harsh look, addressed me directly.

“One is true, one is false. Which one? That I cannot say…Choose wisely Naomi.”

He snapped his fingers, and I jolted awake, covered in sweat and breathing heavily.

Daylight streamed in through the windows, and I checked the time to see it was 10 in the morning. 

I put a hand over my racing heart, reminding myself that it had just been a dream. However, as quickly as that thought crossed my mind, I turned to see something on the nightstand that hadn’t been there before.

Almost as if he wanted to hammer the point home, I picked up the card which had my name, my real name, on the envelope. 

It read:

Not a dream Naomi - One true. One false. Choose wisely or go home alone.

I sighed aloud, realizing how difficult my last week was going to be. Now that the king of the heavens was involved, I had opened myself up to unforeseen challenges, no doubt in the interest of making things more interesting for him.

I had been the one who was foolish enough to suggest a “Bachelorette” style competition in order to secure who would accompany me home, and like any good reality producer the king had merely stirred the pot.

To be continued…in Part 38

Let the games begin! Who are you rooting for? Next chapter up will be up on Monday but cast your vote now!

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