#anyway sorry for the long ramble in tags

[livehexmoments]

SO...Here it is. My biggest fanfic yet and for the hex...focusing on a character that had less than 5 minutes of screentime (and died :( ) and here i am shipping him with the revenge hungry bartender and cold hearted groonda (ill come up with a good title for it later) I enjoyed writing and rewriting this fic even though it was painful to get through at times. Is it the best it can be? Probably not FWEGRWEGH Some general cws for character death, mention of nsfw (nothing explicitly shown, but it is implied/mentioned), and drinking/someone getting drunk (lemme know if i missed any!!)

Also no joke, this is 11,100 words and in google docs, it amounts to 29 pages. This is pretty long and splitting up into chapters just didnt feel right so it’s all underneath the “Keep reading”. If you are not prepared to read through the entire thing, i understand completely and hope you have a nice day wherever you are <3. If so, I do hope you enjoy it !! :)!

Rootbeer Tender. 

Personally, Jay never heard of the game until he overheard a bunch of Groondas talk about it. From what he gathered, the game itself was said to be like a janky arcade game that played like it was made by a toddler. The only reason why a bunch of Gameworks employees go there (other than for a job) is because of a quaint little tavern that serves the best root beer around. Jay, finding himself curious, decided to go to the bar himself to see if it held up to that standard. What else was he doing other than cleaning? He could use a nice root beer. The forest loomed over him as he approached the inn. Although the inn looked welcoming, the jankiness and unpolished look made him feel a bit out of place. The lights were dimmed and the moon hung in the woods, omitting an eerie glow. Jay knew it was late and they were probably closed, but this was his only time off. He had to at least try a rootbeer. But as soon as he got to the door, he felt himself getting cold feet. They probably were closed, so why bother whoever’s working there now? As he turned to walk back to the base, he heard the door open behind him. 

Jay turns around to see what looked to be the barkeep, holding the door open with a warm smile. Peering from behind his legs was this weird looking…Groonda? Jay couldn’t tell, but it was hunched over with an annoyed expression on its face. Jay looked anxious as he stuttered,

“Oh I’m terribly sorry. I-I was just- Well, I was just leaving so I’ll come back tomorrow when you’re open-”

The barkeep interrupted, “Leave? After you came all the way from the base? I don’t mind pouring one more glass.”

Jay grinned nervously. While the barkeep’s kindness was something he can appreciate, the idea of making these two work overtime for him? Well that was just rude in Jay’s opinion. 

“Oh, that’s very kind of you, but really I should get going. You both look like you need some sleep.” Jay stuttered out as he tried to walk off. Apparently, the barkeep was having none of it and took a step forward to grab Jay by the shoulders with one arm. Jay’s face flushed as the bartender started to lead him into the tavern. 

“Nonsense! Come right in, take a seat, please!” The barkeep paused his movements to look at the smaller man who Jay swore was giving him a dirty look. “Jeremiah, would you mind fetching another barrel from the basement?” The barkeep asked with a warm smile on his face.

Jeremiah nods wordlessly and he heads down into the basement.

Meanwhile, The bartender leads Jay to a stool and he sits down. Jay takes the moment to look around the inn while the bartender gets a glass ready. It was homey. The gramophone in the corner of the room was playing a song that Jay will have stuck in his head for days. The sudden voice of the bartender interrupted his musings,

“So mister, how do you take your rootbeer?” Jay looked over to him. Jeremiah was already back (Jay swore he didn’t hear him come back) and was setting up a barrel on the far side of the room. The bartender was looking at him with a patient smile. Jay quickly glanced away, not used to anyone showing him such patience or kindness.

“I never had a rootbeer before.” He nervously said, rubbing the back of his head.

The bartender looks surprised. “Never had a root beer?!” He exclaimed in shock. Jay nodded, still looking away from him. The barkeep hummed and quickly went over to the barrel. “Well, I’ll just make the First Timer’s special.” 

Before Jay can even ask what that is, he watches in awe as the barkeep makes his drink so fast that by time he slides it over for Jay to catch, Jay misses and the drink falls on the floor. The loud glass shattering makes Jay winces as he fearfully looks over to the bartender who was just staring at him. 

“I-I’m so so sorry! I’ll clean it myself or I can just leave if you want-” His apologies were interrupted by the barkeep laughing loudly. His face flushes in embarrassment as he gets up from his seat to leave. The bartender slows down his laughing to motion Jay to sit back down.

“Oh you’re fine! It was just an accident, no need to be embarrassed. It’s my fault anyway. I keep forgetting sometimes not all my customers are familiar with my game.” The barkeep said sheepishly as he made another drink. Jay sits back down hesitantly, still looking at the mess.

“Do you still want me to clean it?”

“Hm? Oh, of course not! Jeremiah will take care of it.”

Right on cue, Jeremiah is already sweeping up the glass. Jay frowns, looking at the annoyed and tired expression on his face with sympathy. He recalled those late nights where some idiots decided to make a big mess at 2 am and Irving had forced Jay to stay overtime to clean it, making the same expression as Jeremiah’s. The bartender turns around with the remade drink in hand, only to find his patron was helping Jeremiah with the mess, using a nearby mop to clean up the drink. It was a welcome surprise to see Jeremiah seemingly having a conversation with a customer, especially one so skittish and anxious as Jay. Their conversation gets interrupted by the barkeep.

“What game are you from?” The barkeep asked curiously as he put Jay’s drink down where he sat. Both of them looked at him. 

“Well…I’m just the janitor at the Gameworks base, sir. I wasn’t created from a game initially.” Jay stated, finishing up his cleaning and handing the mop to Jeremiah to put away. He sat down at his seat.

“Really? Well, I’m shocked.” The barkeep sounded genuine. He pulled up a stool from behind him to sit across from Jay. “And here I thought all characters were made for some type of game.”

“That’s kind of true? I mean, we all get used for games eventually. But in the meantime, some characters just work around the base. I-I have a friend who’s just a mechanic. She just makes sure things work right in games and anywhere else.” Jay took a sip of his drink. His eyes widened as the sweet flavor of the root beer covered his taste buds. He takes another sip, this time a bit longer, just to savor it. The barkeep chuckles at the sight of it, glad that he was able to satisfy another customer. 

“So? Was it good?”

“Better than good! This is the sweetest drink I’ve ever had in my life. Probably the best root beer I’ve ever had too, and it’s my first time drinking one.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear it!” The barkeep says with a proud grin. “You know, I just realized we never even properly introduced ourselves.”

“Oh- uh, my bad, I-”

“Friend, don’t worry about it! My name is Rootbeer Reginald, but please just call me Reggie. The little guy over there,” he pointed towards Jeremiah, who was putting away the mop and cleaning supplies. “His name is Jeremiah, that’s my janitor.” 

Jay tilted his head a bit at Reggie, who looked at him with a smile.

“...Your first name is Rootbeer?”

The smile faltered a bit as Reggie laughed nervously.

“No, not really. It’s just what I’m called. The only thing I serve in this tavern is root beer, you know?”

“Yes, but…You just said your name is “Rootbeer Reginald” so excuse me if I find it hard to believe you. Also, it sounds like something Lionel would make up for a character name.” Jay snickered watching the bartender’s face flushed in embarrassment and annoyance. 

“Well! It doesn’t matter because I insist you just call me Reggie. Enough about my name, what’s yours?”

“Jay.”

“Jay…that’s a nice name.” The barkeep holds his hand towards Jay, who shakes it. 

“It’s better than having RootBeer as a first name.” Jay says in a jokey tone, feeling the little root beer in his system. He expects Reggie to get furious, but is a bit shocked to see him look annoyed but still smiling. 

“Oh knock it off! At least I have a last name.”

“Which is also a first name..”

Reginald and Jay laugh together at the absurdity of it. As the night goes on, Jay finds himself becoming more comfortable. Reginald was a great conversationalist, listening to Jay with a warm smile. Jeremiah wasn’t too bad either. The little guy was sitting with them, quietly listening along and only talking unless spoken to. Jay made a mental note to maybe get to know him better when he came to the tavern again.

...

As Jay finished his drink, he felt a bit sad that he had to leave. If he wasn’t there by sunrise, Irving would kill him. 

“Again, I’m sorry I came here so late. I hope I didn’t screw up your sleep schedule or anything.” Jay watched as Reggie waved him off, finishing his cleaning and putting the stool back.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I forgot how nice it is just to have some company. Not to say you’re not good company, Jeremiah!” Reggie laughs as Jeremiah rolls his eyes. Jay laughs along, a warm smile on his usually depressed face. As he waved goodbye to them and bid them good night, Jay was sure this wouldn’t be the last he would see of them.

“I hate Irving so much. Oh ‘mir, I wish I can just get reassigned to your game so I wouldn’t have to deal with his fucking BULLSHIT!!” Jay yelled as he gulped down his fifth drink. Reggie sighed as he cleaned a dirty glass and watched Jay, feeling sorry for the guy.

“Language, Jay.” Jeremiah said in a monotone voice, taking a seat on the bar next to Jay. 

Jay was clearly shitfaced, having drank about 5 root beers in one go. His face was flushed red with his hair looking messed up. When he finished, he slammed the glass on the bar, almost breaking it. 

“Sorry, sorry, I-I’m just so tired. I don’t understand how you two can stand the asshole. Bossing us around, treating us like garbage, he doesn’t care. He never did.” Jay hiccuped, tears running down his face as he choked back drunken sobs. Jeremiah rubbed his back to comfort him. Reggie took the glass away from Jay, cleaning it already.

“Can-Can I have another?”

“No. I’m cutting you off, Jay. As a friend, I will not allow you to die of root beer poisoning.” Reggie puts the now cleaned glass away and walks over to the other side of the bar, sitting next to Jay on the other side. “And I think Irving…I think he’s just stressed. He has a lot on his plate and I’m sure he cares. I don’t think it’s right he’s taking it out on you though, but I can talk to him about it. He visits sometimes.”

Reggie’s smile fades as Jay turns to look straight at him. 

“You don’t- You just don’t- What the hell is wrong with you?! Can’t you comprehend that Irving doesn’t like us?” Jay laughs a bit manically as Reggie frowns. Jeremiah behind him growls a bit, becoming defensive. 

“Reginald just sees the good in people, Jay. Nothing wrong with that.”

“But you of all people should know! I…”

Jay looks at both of them, and suddenly grabs their hands. 

“I just want what’s best for you two. You’re the only friends I have and I’m terrified of ending up alone.” As Jay is saying this, he is glancing back and forth at Reggie and Jeremiah, gripping their hands tighter. While Jeremiah looks confused with his face red, Reggie smiles gently and rubs Jay’s knuckles. 

“Your concern is appreciated, Jay. I assure you that I’m not mad, you’re drunk and stressed and sometimes you gotta let it out! I know I do that sometimes.” Reggie laughs softly. Jay can feel Jeremiah squeeze his hand a bit. “But Jeremiah and I aren’t going anywhere. You’re our friend, Jay. You’ll always have a place here at the inn. Anytime. Maybe I’ll convince Irving to let you work here. I could always use more help around here. Certainly would lessen the load, right Jeremiah?”

Jeremiah spoke up, “Yes. It would be nice to have a second pair of hands around.” 

Jay sniffled as he stood up from his chair, a shaky and bittersweet smile on his face.

“Thank you. I mean it, truely, thank you. I have- I have to leave. See you tomorrow?” 

Reggie noticed how much he wobbled as he stood and looked at him concerned.

“Are you sure you can even make it back? I’m happy to let you sleep in the cabin for the night.”

“I’m fineee, better than fine. I feel great. You two always make me feel better. With your kindness and…no nonsense attitude.” Jay giggles at that for some reason. He notices how he was still holding their hands, clearly not letting go. But instead of just letting go and apologizing like he normally would, his drunken mind decided to embrace the homoerotic nature of it all and kiss their cheeks instead. Letting go of their hands, he walks out of the tavern, yelling good night to them and saying he loves them while laughing. What Jay didn’t see was their flushed faces and sudden realization that maybe their friendship wasn’t so platonic afterall. 

...

Several years have passed since that night.

Jay sighed as he cleaned the floor of the temple, staring at the reflection of the shiny clean floor.

He didn’t know why his mind decided to drift back to his memories of the inn. Hearing the songs on the gramophone, the smell of rootbeer, and the laughter of the barkeep after Jay told him a joke.

He really did miss Reggie. His warm smile. How he always knew what to say and what advice to give. How he would so gently put his hand on Jay’s shoulder after crying and complaining about a long day of work.

Even Jeremiah, for as creepy and cold the little guy could be, there was something in there. They both could relate to the horrid treatment they faced at the hands of Gamefuna (especially in regards to Irving). There were moments, Jay recalled, where Jeremiah would let down his cold exterior to reveal a much softer side of him. One that would grab your hand and never let go. One who concerns himself over every little thing, worries over your safety and well being and-

Jay’s eyes widened at his sudden realization. He was in love with them, wasn’t he? Was he that repressed he couldn’t acknowledge it? Why did he hesitate for so long? If he had just confessed sooner, if he just wasn't a coward, would things be different? Would he not feel so alone anymore?

The truth is, Jay thought as his hands began to tremble a bit, that it wouldn’t have mattered. They vanished long before Jay could even rationalize his true feelings towards them. Apparently moved to a different game but he didn’t believe that. Not after Irving told him with an almost relieved and cruel face. And what difference would it make if he told? It wouldn’t have lasted, in fact it would have made everything worse. Imagine confessing the two people who made him the happiest in the world and they accepted him, or rejected him in a soft way. Jay knows for a fact Reggie is far too kind to reject someone coldly. It’s not like him to be cruel. Jeremiah would go along with whatever Reggie would say, so maybe he had a shot. Who knows but the point is it would always be the same fate. Happiness then nothing. 

There was no stopping Rootbeer Tender’s shut down, complete erasure from Lionel’s portfolio. Why? Because he was the first, the less polished game? What a sick joke. All of Lionel’s games were unpolished travesties, Rootbeer Tender was no different. The game…no, not just the game. Reggie and Jeremiah did not deserve whatever Irving did to them. Jay should have been there. He could have tried to prevent it. Even if he couldn’t, he could have given one more goodbye, he could have-

Jay’s thoughts halted when he saw droplets of water on the floor. He shakily touched his face to feel some wetness on his cheeks. He was crying. He quickly started to wipe his eyes and sniff up his snot when he heard the door opening. Thankfully it wasn’t Chandrelle, but the great sage doing his routine checks. The sage stopped in front of Jay.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Just allergies.”

“Ah, I see.”

The sage quickly looked around to make sure everything was in order and walked away to the door. All the while, Jay’s memories of the inn and the two owners he adored kept haunting him. All he can do is mop the same spot, over and over, lost in the images of happier days and the regrets he had. A voice suddenly spoke up, it was the sage.

“Jay?”

“Hm?”

“...You missed a spot near the altar.”

And with that the Sage left and closed the door. Jay threw his mop on the floor and softly sobbed in his hands, standing alone in the temple.

...

It was almost ironic how much Lazarus reminded Jay of himself that day. Crying alone in the temple where no one would hear him, wishing to go back to the days of old. Yet never realizing how the past was not much better than the present. Jay watched Lazarus from the slightly opened door of his room, softly sobbing in his hands and trembling as every sob choked out of his throat. He didn’t mean to stumble upon such a private moment. He was just trying to get away from Junior, who had been arguing with him all day about wanting to handle the explosives (which Jay knows from experience, will only end in disaster). 

As he was heading to his own room, he heard the sobs and had to peek in. As much as Jay would want to comfort him, he knew better. Lazarus was a very private person. Rarely expressing any emotion other than a depressed frown and emotionless eyes. He never let anyone in his room nor did he talk about how he felt about things, just went along with whatever Jay or Junior said. It concerned Jay how loyal and unquestioning Lazarus could be, but supposed it was because of his days as a knight. It was hard to recode an entire character after all, or at least he heard Irving complain about it one time. Still, Jay decided to softly sigh and attempt to leave him alone. 

Unfortunately, the door creaked just loud enough and opened only enough for Lazarus to stop and look up at Jay. Jay could see his horrified face staring at him, silently pleading with him not to tell and leave. At this moment, Jay could have walked up to him and comforted him, telling him that it’s all going to be okay, they’ll get out eventually. But what good would lying do? He wasn’t even sure Lazarus’s plan of going to that “Six Pint Inn'' would even work. However, as much as Jay’s instincts told him to walk away and avoid an awkward confrontation, staring at the poor ex-knight with sickly pale green skin and red eyes made him realize that taking the coward’s path was a horrible option. So he opted to compromise. 

Slowly entering the room, he pulled out a clean rag from his armor (he always carried one or two around to clean the blood from his suit) and handed it to Lazarus. He softly sighed as Lazarus took the rag with an unreadable expression. 

“If you ever need to talk, uh, about anything, I’ll listen. I won’t tell Junior anything, it’s none of his business.” There was an awkward pause. Lazarus simply stared at him and Jay had to look away, turning around to head out the room. Before Jay can leave, he heard Lazarus speak up softly.

“Thank you. You’re a good man, Jay.” 

Jay glanced at Lazarus, who he noticed was giving a small smile as he wiped his eyes. Jay smiled back at him and nodded, leaving the room. It was a small gesture, but it was enough. Mir’, Jay hoped it was enough. 

...

Walking through the forest path felt familiar to Jay. Following behind Lazarus, he couldn’t help but to look around, desperately trying to remember if he had ever walked down this path. The storm raging on didn’t help with this process. As the thunder boomed and lightning cracked down from the sky, his thought process stopped and he jumped a little. Junior, who was walking beside him, laughed.

“Aw, what’s the matter? You’re scared of a little storm?”

“No! I was just startled, that’s all.”

“Uh-huh.” Junior said with a smug smirk.

Lazarus barely turned around to engage in their shenanigans. He gave a small glance before motioning them to pick up the pace. Jay frowned at this. He always worried about Lazarus. Poor guy was never the same after what happened in Secrets of Legendaria. 

After a bit of walking, Lazarus stopped in front of the inn.

“..We’re here.”

While Junior was complaining about how small the inn actually was and Lazarus was knocking on the door, Jay’s eyes widened in realization. 

This was Rootbeer Tender. It had to be. He turned to his right to see the cabin, a few paces away. There was no mistaking it. That was Reggie’s cabin, clearly seeing better days, but still intact. Could this mean that he’s…alive? Was he truly replaced by someone else?

Lazarus’s voice cut through his thoughts.

“Jay!” He turned to look at him.

“Come on, the door’s open.” “...Right.”

Jay took a deep breath and adjusted his helmet. He entered the inn.

The place was far different to what he remembered of it. The rows of bars were gone, replaced with only one in the center of the room. The most striking change was the giant mirror behind the bar. But it was disgusting, the dust made it impossible to see a clear reflection. He noticed even more little details, like the vending machine on the far right of the room, and even a door that leads to what looked to be a kitchen. A kitchen was the strangest thing to Jay. He remembered how bad Reggie’s cooking was, even if the man himself would never admit it was. Speaking of Reggie, he did notice the portrait of him and Jeremiah. Jay would never say it outloud but he couldn’t help it, the portrait just reminded him of how handsome Reggie was (and Jeremiah, but he couldn’t get a good look at him. He almost laughed to see how the photo cut him off due to his height).

Lazarus and Junior were already making themselves known. Junior walks over to Weasel Kid, interrupting an one sided conversation between him and the weird old man in survivor gear. Jay watched as Junior said something so funny apparently it made the kid laugh. Out of all people, he did not expect to see Weasel Kid end up here. Lazarus was sitting on the stool, talking to someone he couldn’t see from where he was standing. So he glanced around to see if anyone else was here.

He saw what looked like a fighting character. Jay had to think for a moment to remember the fighter’s name. Bryce, Jay remembered, that was his name. He remembered his one fight with Steambot Willy. He never got the chance to really talk to him during that fight or when he saw Bryce walking around base. But from the memories of Bryce waving to him every time they acknowledged each other’s existence, he always seemed nice enough. He looked to be talking quietly to Chandrelle. So that’s what happened to them, Jay thought to himself. He can see why Lazarus was so adamant on going here. Chandrelle looked about the same as Jay remembered. He’s almost grateful that she hasn't recognized him or Junior yet. Junior especially, remembering that talk with Lazarus and him confessing what she did to Moji. Jay never understood why Lazarus would still see any good in her, but Jay supposes that being her swordsman has something to do with it. 

Jay finally decides to stop standing in the entrance, as his feet were starting to hurt and he didn’t want to draw any attention to himself. He took a seat next to where Bryce and Chandrelle were standing, keeping his back turned to them to watch Lazarus talk to the bartender. The bartender was-

. . .

Jay’s eyes widened as he recognized him. Rootbeer Regianld himself. For Mir’s sake, what happened to him? He looked much older than Jay could ever have imagined, with wrinkles on his face and dark shadows under his eyes. He was supposed to be a year or two younger than Jay. They joked about that a lot. His hair was receding a bit and he noticed the wheelchair Reggie was sitting in. Jay looked at the portrait on the wall and back at the barkeep, wondering why the years were seemingly so cruel to him. Jay hoped to whatever creator was behind the screen that Jeremiah didn’t look much worse. Jay’s thoughts were interrupted by Junior’s impatient yelling.

“JAY! Man, what the hell is wrong with you?!”

Jay realized that all eyes were on him. The confused stares of patrons, Lazarus’s concerned stare, Junior’s frustrated look, and Reggie’s emotionless face made Jay more and more uncomfortable. Jay shook his head and stood straighter.

“S-Sorry, what were you saying?”

Reginald spoke up and Jay noticed how much rougher his voice sounded.

“I was saying that you three are needed in the attic. Take the elevator. Weasel Kid will be there to guide you, isn’t that right?”

“Whatever.”

Jay followed the three onto the elevator. There was a moment before the elevator moved where he and Reggie locked eyes. Neither one broke it as the elevator slowly moved up. It was clear that Reginald recognized him yet Jay can sense a disbelief in his face as well. The thoughts stuck with Jay, long after the elevator reached the 2nd floor and the group followed Weasel to the attic.

...

Jay never recalled the old inn even having an attic, let alone a second floor. His way up to the attic was filled with him looking around the decor and rooms the place had. Reginald and Jeremiah never had good taste in decoration, let alone ones that fit, but for what it was, it was decent. Though, Jay probably would have done a better job. He was grateful that the way up was an awkward silence, although Junior and Weasel would mutter amongst themselves, discussing whatever that didn’t concern Jay. It was when they reached the attic that Jay came across another familiar face. Although he was in robes and his face was hidden, Jay had no doubts that it was Jeremiah. There weren’t a lot of small, hunched over people with a robe such as his that Jay knew. As Jeremiah turned around to face them, he noticed a small patch on the robe. Did something happen to him..? Those thoughts would have to wait as Jeremiah spoke,

“Ah…So you finally arrived. Early, I might add. I thought we agreed to debrief tomorrow, Lazarus?”

“The sooner, the better. I want to get this over with.” There was a small pause as Jeremiah let out a pleased hum.

“I understand. I think you made a good call. Now, let us go over the plan.”

Jeremiah unceremoniously took off the robe. He looked pretty much the same as he used to, only with a similar patch on his suit. Jay breathed a small sigh of relief. He didn’t know how he would react if Jeremiah looked as bad as Reggie did. As everyone gathered around the table, Jay noticed how he stared at him for a brief second only to start discussing the plan like nothing happened.

It seemed like a good plan. Everyone does their part, they steal the artifact, get out, then bomb the base and everyone inside. Irving would die (maybe? He didn’t sound so sure about it) and they would be back at the inn safely. Weasel would find his own way and sneak into the sewers, carrying the bomb and blowing up column A when the time was right. Junior would clear out any soldiers to prevent a flank, Lazarus would help when necessary, and Jay was in charge of disarming the security system. Due to Lazarus’s insistence on doing the debriefing early, it only made sense to enact the plan that early morning. While the plan seemed self explanatory, Jay couldn’t help but to have a bad feeling about it. Those feelings only worsened when Jeremiah started to discuss the disclaimers. 

For one, there was no backing out. It was either you’re in or not, and if anyone makes an attempt to leave, they would die. By Jeremiah’s hands or any other brave soul willing to do it. He also made clear that this plan was not flawless. There was a likelihood that any of them could die during the operation. Jay wasn’t surprised to see Lazarus agree to all of this so quickly. No hesitation as he nods and shakes Jeremiah’s hand. Jay admits that Lazarus was someone who would rather be dead than to be sent on another mission again. Jay couldn’t help but to agree, even if he was absolutely terrified of dying. Junior was on board with this whole plan as well. Of course, he probably ignored the warnings and just wanted to cause as much damage to Gameworks as possible. Jay heard Junior loudly tease Weasel Kid to “not fuck this up and kill everyone” as the two were leaving for the elevator. Jay was about to follow them and Lazarus out, but heard Jeremiah call out for him.

“Hang on. You, Jay, I need to discuss something with you.”

Lazarus glanced back at Jay who shrugged and motioned to go on without him.

Jay returned to the table, sitting across from Jeremiah who was staring at him intently. There was an awkward silence. 

“So, it’s been a while.” Jay broke the silence while wringing his hands together. Jeremiah took a deep breath, his age was becoming apparent as Jay saw how tired the man really looked.

“Yes. It has. What are you doing here?”

Jay shrugged and responded, “I was resigned to this game.” He paused for a second, realizing it wasn’t 100% true, so he rephased it. “Well, it was more of me wanting to be in it for the excitement.” Jay let out a bitter laugh.

Jeremiah looked surprised. “Out of all games, you chose this one? You’re a janitor, Jay. Not a soldier.”

“I’m beginning to realize that.”

There is another pause. Jay looked away from Jeremiah, content with staring at the ground. He didn’t want him to see how he was almost crying. 

“I thought you both died. I mourned for you two.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“What happened to you and Reggie?”

Jeremiah started to tap his clawed finger on the table, a bit of a pained look on his face.

“I..I wish not to discuss it without Reginald’s consent.”

“I see. Well, it’s good to see you’re both alive and well. I should get going.”

As Jay was about to get up and leave this awkward situation, Jeremiah stopped him, this time grabbing his arm quickly.

“I did not say that this discussion was over, Jay.”

“What is it you want to discuss?”

“The plan. I want you to make sure you’re in.”

That made Jay look back at Jeremiah. He laughed awkwardly, becoming nervous under Jeremiah’s stern stare.

“I…I don’t think I should be a part of it. There’s no room for cowards and well, I haven’t changed in that regard.”

“Jay. You were never a coward.”

“I find that very hard to believe.” Jeremiah looked a bit frustrated. He climbed on top of the table to gently grab Jay’s shoulders.

“Listen to me. You are not a coward. In fact, we-...I need you for this plan. You’re the only other person with only knowledge of the base and its systems. I promise you will be safe so long as you follow everything to a tee, I’ll make sure of it.”

A sudden static noise from Jeremiah’s pocket interrupts the conversation. As he excuses himself and answers, Jay reflects on what Jeremiah told him. While it was nice to hear Jeremiah be so confident about him, his self doubt was already asking why that was. He was a coward, plenty of times he ran away from a fight when his comrades were doing all the fighting. Even back then, he was too afraid of rejection to even- 

No, Jay grimaced and shaked his head as he shook the thought out of his head. He stopped his thoughts from wandering any further when he saw Jeremiah put the device back in his pocket and looked at Jay.

“That was Reginald. He requests that you spend the night with us in the cabin.”

Jay furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Why?”

“It’s far too dangerous to fly in this weather. The others already have their rooms, but we have a miscalculation in how many people we would have to room. Besides, Reggie insists you come to the cabin. He would like to speak with you as well.” All of a sudden, Jeremiah grabbed his hand, which flustered Jay. His hand was freezing, it felt like he was holding a corpse’s hand more than a living person’s. “It’s nothing bad. It would be better than sleeping outside and it will be just us. Like old times.” Jeremiah said in a soft tone, softly smiling at Jay. Jay had seen Jerry smile genuinely before yet this one felt a bit forced. But Jay didn’t seem to care. In the moment, seeing Jeremiah’s smile only flustered him more as old feelings started to come back.

“...Alright.” Jay reluctantly said after glancing back and forth at the ground and Jeremiah’s face.

With that, Jeremiah leads him to the secret elevator and they head down to the lobby, which was completely empty. Jay noticed as they exited the inn that Jeremiah never let go of his hand, content with leading him to the cabin. The warm lights of its inside softly shining in the distance contrasted with the dread Jay felt in his stomach. 

...

When Jay entered the cabin, it looked pretty much the same as it used to. Although there were some little details that looked new to Jay, it all felt familiar to him which was comforting. Yet, the presence of Reggie staring at the blank computer screen made the atmosphere more ominous. When Jeremiah came in and shut the door behind them, he turned to look at the two, wheeling his chair around to face them fully. The squeaking of the wheels made Jay cringe. Reggie stared for a moment, specifically at Jay, before giving him a small smile.

“Well I’ll be. It really is you. How have you been?”

Reggie’s smile and tone just felt wrong to Jay. It just didn’t feel…genuine. That’s what Reggie always was: Genuine. “I’ve been worse…What about you? Have you been doing alright?”

“Not at all!” Reggie gave a sharp and bitter laugh. Jay frowned at his response, realizing with seeing him in the wheelchair how dumb the question really sounded. Reginald continued, “Oh, I haven’t been alright in a long, long time. Neither of us have been. Isn’t that right Jeremiah?”

Jay almost forgot Jeremiah was there for how silent he was. Jeremiah climbed onto the arm of the wheelchair and clung onto it like a hawk with a trainer. 

“Yes. It has been a difficult time for us.”

Jay looked at both of them with sympathy. There was an awkward silence between the three of them. 

“But enough of this pity talk. It’s far too depressing for this reunion. Afterall, it’s been so long since the three of us got to be together like this! Would you mind grabbing those drinks behind you for us? And pull up a chair! Relax for a while! It’ll be just like old times.” Reggie broke the silence with a cheery tone and grin, gesturing towards the lone chair and table with glasses filled behind Jay. Jay took the chair and placed it in front of Reggie and Jeremiah. When he did sit down in front of them, passing the drinks along and taking his own, there was still an uncomfortable tension between them all. This didn’t feel like “old times”. Old times would be them laughing at jokes they made and complaining about their jobs. The old times would have Jay listening to Reggie and Jeremiah talk to each other, engrossed in their own conversation. Jay never minded. He knew how dedicated the two were to each other. He always felt grateful that they chose him to be a witness to their closer and more intimate moments. But the attention was all on him now and he wasn’t sure what to do with it. Jay took small sips of his drink as he watched the other two across from him looked as uncomfortable as he was. 

“So… How come you’re in a wheelchair?” The moment Jay asked that question, Reggie frowned and he clenched the wheelchair’s arm.

“I’d rather not discuss it.” 

“Reggie. I know it sounds like a sensitive topic-”

“If you know, then why are we discussing it?” Reggie forced a smile when saying that. For some reason, that forced smile was Jay’s final straw. Jay huffed in frustration.

“Because I thought, for all these years, that you two died. The least you can do is tell me what happened.”

“Again, I’d rather not. I’m sorry that our disappearance concerned you so much, however-” Jay suddenly interrupted Reggie in a fit of anger, shouting at them.  

“Concerned?! I was more than concerned about you. I mourned for you. I cared so much about you two. Honestly, you two were the only friends I had. I just want to know what’s going on. This whole plan and…everything, it’s not like you two.”

Jay grabbed Reggie’s hand. Reggie flinched, which was concerning to Jay. But his attention was on him and not Jeremiah.

“No matter what you tell me, it will never leave this cabin. I promise you.” Jay grabs Jeremiah’s hand as well. Cold and small as it always was, yet his grip was tight. He can feel Jeremiah’s sharp nails dig into his skin. He ignored the pain and continued to push, “So can you two please tell me what happened to the old Reggie and Jeremiah? What changed?”

Reginald took a deep breath, glancing over to Jeremiah who was matching his tired expression. He stared into Jay’s concerned eyes, gripping his hand tightly.

“...Lionel did this to me.” Reggie confessed with a serious tone, not breaking eye contact with Jay. Jay couldn’t help but look confused. Lionel was a jerk, sure, but to this degree?

“Lionel? But-”

“He wanted this, Jay. He wanted me gone, but didn’t want any blood on his hands. So he sent Irving to do the dirty work of getting rid of me. I couldn’t believe it myself. Why would he want to get rid of me? He loved rootbeer and most importantly, he loved me. Or so I thought.” Jay noticed how Reginald was slightly shaking as he spoke. His hand was on his face, looking like he was desperately trying to keep composure. Jeremiah was already by his side, using his other arm to wrap around Reggie’s shoulders (or at least as far as his short arms can reach). Jay kept quiet, intently listening as he continued to hold their hands. Reggie continued,

“I refused to leave and well… I suppose Irving “respected” that decision.” He gestured towards his legs, letting out a bitter laugh. Jay’s eyes widen in horror as he puts the pieces together. It wasn’t out of character for Irving to be cruel, but this? This was on a whole other level. Reggie treated Irving with nothing but kindness and this is what he gets? It made Jay’s stomach turn. 

“Have you ever felt betrayal, Jay?” Reginald asked Jay who snapped out of his angered thoughts.

“I-I don’t think so.” 

“It’s the most painful feeling you will ever experience. Far worse than any physical torment, especially when your legs get broken into tiny bits of bones that stick out like knives. You lay on the floor, writhing in pain, thinking “Why would they do this to me? Was I not good enough? Was it my fault?”. And it is their fault, not mine! Never mine! I loved him! It’s all their fault. IT’S ALL HIS FAULT-” 

As Reggie begins to yell in anger, he stops when he feels Jeremiah squeeze his shoulder, looking upset. He takes a deep breath as Jeremiah continues for him. “Lionel wanted to look like a game dev prodigy in the eyes of the unsuspecting public. Super Weasel Kid being his first game looks better than Rootbeer Tender. Such mediocrity being praised, it sickens me. How can a game like that excuse the denial of our existence? For our suffering? Can you even fathom such a thing?” Jeremiah said all of that with such venom, Jay almost wondered why Weasel Kid was even allowed in the inn. He continued, “Irving. For what he did to Reginald, he must suffer.”

“Ah, Jeremiah,” Reginald interrupted gently, “We are getting a bit ahead of ourselves.” “Wh-What does that mean? Is that what this whole plan is about? To get revenge on Irving?” Jay asked, slowly putting together the pieces. Reginald only gave Jay a dry smile. 

“Ah. Well, you are about half right. I want Irving and Lionel dead.”

Jay let go of both of their hands, his face morphing into shock and horror. He stared at both of them in disbelief.

“Dead? You want them dead? That’s-” Jay laughs at how absurd it sounded. “Reggie, that’s nearly impossible. Lionel is on the other side of the screen! And Irving well-”

“Jay, I know this. That’s what this whole plan is for! Do you take me as a fool?” Reggie accused Jay with a bitter tone. Jay couldn’t help but to think if this really was Rootbeer Reggie and Jeremiah, his janitor. They certainly weren’t acting like them. The Jeremiah he knew was cold, but not malicious and hateful like the one in front of him. And the Reggie he knew was kind. Someone who would forgive too easily and always had a bright smile on his face. The man in front of him was not him, he was just someone with a similar face worn on like a distorted mask. His eyes filled with grief and darkness and the forced smiles he gave only made Jay more and more uncomfortable. 

“I-I don’t- of course not, Reggie, but, this- I mean-” Jay kept stuttering as he fell under the pressure of their intense stares. He was almost grateful that Reggie interrupted him.

“There will be a ritual performed using the Artifact. It will be performed once all the necessary participants have been retrieved.”

“Participants?”

“I have been collecting those who have been wronged by Lionel and Irving,” Jeremiah answered. “For the ritual to work, it requires six player characters, the blessing of a human player, and the Artifact.”

“The Hex…” Reggie said with a manic grin. “The Hex will allow us access to the real world. Once then, I will kill Lionel myself and this will all be over. I can finally be at peace.” 

“And…And what about Irving? How do you plan on going about that?”

Jeremiah, who was silent throughout Reggie’s explanation, spoke up, “The explosion from the bomb should be enough to kill him.” 

“And if it doesn’t?”

There was an awkward silence between them as Jeremiah and Reggie glanced at each other.

“We did not account for that.” Jeremiah awkwardly confessed, clearing his throat.

“But!” Reggie said loudly before Jay can panickally question how they could possibly miss accounting for a failed murder attempt on the guy who can order their deletion in seconds. “I’m sure that will not be an issue. The plan has made it this far, there is no way it will fail now. Things have fallen into place far too much for it to fail now.”

“Ah, but of course, there is just one thing that is a bit of a concern to this operation.”

“And what’s that?”

“You. It’s you.”

“How am I a concern? I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone about this. And Jeremiah must have told you that I want nothing to do with the breaking in.” Jeremiah and Reggie glanced at each other. It looked like they knew something that Jay didn’t, which made Jay squirm in his seat.

“Ah, well, that’s the issue. You’re the only person I trust with handling security.”

“Reggie, you can’t be serious. I can’t do it. I’m not going to do it. I’m sorry Reginald, and-and Jeremiah, but no! I’m too scared to do it.”

As Jay got up from his seat, Reggie grabbed his arm tightly, hurting Jay a little. 

“Jay. Please. I need you to do this. I…I know there’s a chance you won’t make it out alive, I won’t lie. But I swear to you, it’s a small chance. I wouldn’t be here begging you if I knew you wouldn’t survive.” 

Jay refused to look at them. Every instinct in Jay was telling him to run. They were going to send on a dangerous mission with a guarantee that he could very well die. Was it really worth it to escape Vicious Galaxy? Even more so, was it worth it for…them? 

...

Images of better days flashed in Jay’s head as did the old feelings he desperately avoided. As much as he didn’t want to die and would rather be a coward, he found that he just didn’t have it in him. He found himself glancing at the untouched drinks, still by their chairs. 

He remembered when Reginald told him that he didn’t even like drinking rootbeer. 

“Really?! You’re telling me that whole job, which is just making and serving rootbeer, the establishment you work at, hell! Even your name!! And you don’t even like to drink it?” The voice of a younger Jay played in his mind. He heard Reginald laugh as did Jeremiah’s soft chuckle.

“Nope!” The younger and cheerier voice of Reginald admitted. “I was never a fan of anything sweet. That’s Jeremiah. I have more of a sour tooth. In fact, I can eat a whole lemon and not pucker once.”

“You’re just screwing with me, Reggie.”

“I swear, I’m not! Give me a lemon, I’ll prove it right now.”

Jay chuckled at the serious tone Reggie had.

“But seriously, I have to ask: If you don’t like drinking it, why do you make it? Is it because you’re forced to?”

“Forced? Oh, I’m not forced to do it.” He remembered how Reggie paused for a second. “Well, maybe a little,” He said with a light laugh. “But I don’t mind. You know why, Jay? Because it makes Lionel happy. It makes my patrons happy. And it makes you happy. That’s all that matters to me.”

...

Before Jay can even process it, his mind shifted to another scene. It was a small moment with just him and Jeremiah. Reginald wasn’t there when Jay arrived late that night, apparently having gone through a busy day and retiring for the night. Jeremiah stayed behind, having cleaned everything and was patiently waiting for Jay’s arrival. In retrospect, Jay always appreciated the moments when it was just them alone. Jay always felt like he never knew Jeremiah as well as he did with Reginald. The little guy was just someone who didn’t share much about himself and always seemed cold and distant. So as the two had some rootbeer Reggie left behind for them to share, they talked quietly amongst themselves. But this stood out to Jay because of one simple question:

“Why do you listen to Reginald?”

Jeremiah looked at Jay oddly.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, and I’m not saying he’s like Irving or a bad boss, but…Jeremiah, if Reginald told you to jump off a bridge, would you?”

“Of course.” Jeremiah answered with no hesitation. 

“See! Exactly what I mean! You take every word that man says like it’s a commandment. Why?” 

“I love him.”

There was an awkward silence between them. Jay remembered how a bit crushed he was hearing that. He was just gaining some attraction towards them and hearing that just felt like any chance he had was thrown out the window. It never made him want to leave, strangely enough, but only increased his want of becoming closer. He heard Jeremiah continue, “Your example of the bridge was misleading. Reginald would never ask that of me. He would never make me do anything that would lead me to unavoidable pain or death. I would volunteer that on my own volition if it is needed. Wouldn’t you do the same for someone you care about?”

...

The two memories lingered as he snapped back into the present. Reggie’s hand was still gripping his arm and he could hear Jeremiah talking in the background. Jay shakily sighs, finally making up his mind and already regretting it. However, he wasn’t doing it for him. 

It was for them.

“...I’ll do it.” Jay felt his voice quiver as Reggie’s tight grip disappeared and he sat back down on the chair. He looked at Reggie and Jeremiah, both of which looked a bit surprised.

“You have no idea how much this means to me. Thank you.” Reggie’s gentle tone and soft voice made Jay’s heart skip a beat. It didn’t help that Jeremiah had reached out to hold his hand tenderly. Jay knew for a fact going on this mission would be one of his biggest regrets, he might not even make it out alive for mir’s sake. Still, he justified his decision by the relief and joy it brought to the two people he loved.

Reginald reached down for his neglected drink as did Jeremiah, both of them raising the drinks for a toast. Jay quickly grabbed his, realizing what was going on. Reggie cleared his throat, “A toast for us and for the plan. My revenge will finally be brought to fruition. And it’s thanks to you two.” Jay clinked his glass with them and took a drink. It was as sweet as he remembered. He almost laughed at seeing Reggie trying to hide his disgust at the sweet taste, only taking a small drink. It seemed time had flown by so quickly as the three were talking and laughing like they used to. Jay had even challenged Reggie to an arm wrestle, bragging a bit about how he certainly got stronger from being in Vicious Galaxy. Even though Jay lost, to see the two look happy and chatting amongst themselves like old times made it all worth it. But the panic soon kicked in as he recalled that he would be leaving in the morning. Most likely not returning at all. Reggie and Jeremiah sensed Jay’s dread radiating off of him, stopping their conversation to look concerned at him. 

“Jay? Are you alright?” Reggie asked with a worried tone. Jay looked at them frightfully, his mind becoming frenzied. Yet, there was one thing he knew he had to do.

“I-Look. I know you keep telling me that it’s going to go fine tomorrow and I’ll come back safe, but I just can’t believe that. And so if this is my last night alive, then I can’t take this to my grave.”

“What are you talking about, Jay?” Jeremiah asked in a cautious tone, becoming a bit apprehensive at Jay’s panicked state. Jay took a shaky breath, kneeling in front of the wheelchair on the floor. He barely made eye contact with either of them. He put his hand on Reggie’s knee.

“I love you. Oh ‘Mir, I love you both so much.” Jay felt wetness on his cheeks and his throat tightening but he kept going. “I have for years. If I only knew how little time we had together, I would have gotten over this sooner. I’m such a coward.

And if you don’t love me back, if either of you don’t, that’s fine. I can accept that. Hate me if you want even. I only wish for this to not be my last regret. And-..Also-, I mean-”

“Jay.” Reggie’s voice suddenly interrupts Jay's confession. He hesitantly looks up at them, expecting rejection from both. What Jay did not expect was to feel the gentle touch of two very different hands on both of his cheeks. A gloved one that was warm and a small cold one with his nails slightly poking him. Both staring at him lovingly. Jay’s face turned as red as his nose. 

“We would never hate you. In fact, I speak for Jeremiah and myself that we felt the same way towards for as long as you have.” Reginald whispered while caressing his face. As much as Jay felt his heart soar and he wanted so badly to burst in joy, Jay couldn’t help but to question that last part.

“I..Wait. Did-Did you two know? This whole time?!”

“Weeellll…” Reginald laughed awkwardly while Jeremiah looked away, clearly a bit embarrassed. “Jeremiah suspected. He did mention it to me a couple times but I wasn’t sure if it was the right call to bring it up. You can be, uh, a little skittish, like a cat.”

“So. You’re calling me a “skittish cat”?” Jay asked.

“Don’t be embarrassed, we’re not taunting you, just stating the truth. You’re our skittish cat, afterall.” Jeremiah teased with a grin, lightly pinching Jay’s cheek. Jay, on the other hand, looked unimpressed and sighed loudly as the other two chuckled.

“Ha. Ha. Very funny.” Jay looked annoyed as the other two calmed their laughter down.

Reginald glanced at the clock hanging by his bed. “Well, I see that it’s rather late. You both have to leave very early so I suggest we start heading to bed.” Reginald paused, glancing at Jeremiah who nodded. “Unless, you have other ideas?” 

Jay looked at him, a bit puzzled on what he meant. “Um, excuse me?”

“Oh you know.”

“I…I don’t know. What other ideas?”

Jeremiah sighs loudly, looking impatient as Reginald couldn’t help but to snicker a little.

“Intercourse, Jay. We are subtly asking if you would like to have sexual intercourse with us.”

“Oh..OH!” Jay’s face became hot and red as a tomato and he looked down, refusing to make eye contact. “I-I-I don’t- Are you sure? It just feels so sudden, not to say I don’t want to! I do, but-”

“Jay, Jay! We wouldn’t have asked if we weren’t sure. As much as I don’t want to say it or entertain the idea,” Reggie sighed. “If this is truly your last night alive, wouldn’t you want to make the most of it?” 

“I agree with Reginald.” Jeremiah piped in. “We want you. I want you.” 

Jay mulled over this for a moment. And perhaps it was some of the rootbeer in his system or the acceptance that death was already waiting on his doorstep, but for once in his entire existence, he ignored his inner voice telling him to run. Oh no, he was not running from this.

He instead picked up Reginald and Jeremiah, holding them in his arms. He may have lost an arm wrestling match, he most certainly was much stronger than he was in the past. But as soon as he did that, his adrenaline wore off for a second as he realized what he was doing.

“Oh, uh, sorry. I should have-”

“No, no, no! You’re fine.” Reginald said, looking flustered for once. Jeremiah was silent, but moved so suddenly to grab Jay’s face and kiss him passionately. He winced a sharp tooth and managed to knick his lip but as Jeremiah pulled away, Reginald immediately pulled Jay in to kiss him, leaving him breathless. His helmet clattered to the floor as he started to walk towards the bed, his two lovers never letting up on their constant affection towards him. 

...

It was the only good memory that flashed to his head as the world slowed around him. He had his back turned from his comrades. He couldn’t bear to see Lazarus’s or Jeremiah’s face as he heard Junior pump his shotgun. He wasn’t mad at Junior, far from it. Jay knew the kid was only doing what they agreed to. It was Jay who let his cowardice control him, putting Lazarus’s life at risk while he did the easy work of just sitting and waiting. Why did he even agree to this? For love? What kind of love was this? Was he really risking everything for the vengeance of the shadow of a man he once knew? Why didn’t Jeremiah stop this?

. . .

Why didn’t he stop this? He knew it was part of the agreement, but surely Jeremiah could have prevented it? Bended the rules a little? Jay didn’t want his final thoughts to be this, to be blaming his now lovers for his mistakes. Yet, it felt right doing so. If he had just said no and backed out, he would have been fine. Maybe stuck in Vicious Galaxy or even died at another person’s hands, but oh mir’, anything was better than dying from cowardice, by your own teammate’s hands. Jay shut his eyes. 

“Oh ‘Mir… I should have stayed as a janitor.” He could feel his voice tremble as he spoke his final words. “It was safe. It was-”

The last thing Jay heard was a loud bang and everything went to black.

...

The remaining three watched as Jay’s body hit the ground facedown with a thud. A small puddle of blood forming underneath. Jeremiah was at least thankful he didn’t have to see his face. Junior reloaded his gun, seemingly not that phased on the murder he just committed.

“No time for cowards, right boss?” He asked Jeremiah, who had snapped out of staring at the body to look at Junior. He cleared his throat,

“Unfortunately,” He made the mistake of glancing back at Jay’s corpse, grimacing a bit. “It had to be done.” 

Jeremiah turned his attention towards Lazarus who was looking at him with utter grief in his face. He heard about how Jay and him got along. Jeremiah couldn’t help but sympathize with the poor man, who he heard quietly whisper to Jay.

“Goodbye, Jay…”

As much as Jeremiah would like to stay a little longer, to at least say his own goodbye or bury a grave, they had no time to waste. They already wasted enough.

“The Artifact awaits. Let’s go.” Jeremiah pressed on, already walking in the base with Junior following right behind him. He didn’t turn back. Grief was merely a setback. Reginald would get his revenge, Jeremiah would make sure of it.

...

Reginald woke up to the sound of floorboards breaking, panicked shouts from his patrons, and a loud bang from the basement. He sighed tiredly, a little upset he had been rudely awakened from his impromptu nap. He didn’t sleep last night, how could he? Well, not only because of…what they did last night (he still felt a bit sore) but also from a persistent feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Regret.

He stared at Jay’s sleeping face for the entire night. When morning came, Reggie pretended to be asleep, not wanting to say goodbye for what could be the very last time he sees him. He heard his wheelchair being pushed to his bedside. He felt a cold chill on head, as he usually did in the mornings. Then, he felt warm lips gently kiss the same spot, feeling the hot air from his mouth linger only for a little bit and disappearing. He didn’t get up until an hour later, when the sun was about to rise and he could smell the pancakes Bryce was making from the inn. 

He shook off the memory, rubbing his eyes out of tiredness. What was he doing?

Ah, yes, he was making sure the props were set and ready. He was just about to start putting the photos into their frames for Jeremiah to hang up. 

Speaking of Jeremiah, he heard the door unlock from inside the secret room. He paused when he saw Reggie.

“...You look exhausted.”

“Hm, yes, I didn’t get much sleep last night. Did everything go as planned?” Reggie asked while sorting through the photos.

“Yes…” Jeremiah paused. He sighed tiredly as he explained. “Mostly. Irving did not die in the explosion. But everything else went exactly as planned. We even freed her. She’s waiting in the basement.”

“Irving won’t be a problem. I already have an idea of how we can get rid of him. Did Lazarus and Weasel make it out?”

Jeremiah nods, taking off his armor. “Yep. They made it out fine. Lazarus and Weasel Kid are already en route with the Artifact as we speak.”

Reggie couldn’t help but to grin excitedly. “Excellent. All we need is one more player character and the finishing touches to our game, and it will all come together.” He turned to look at Jeremiah with a smile. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

Jeremiah walked over to Reggie. He simply grabbed his arm and kissed his hand, slowly intertwining his own with Reggie’s.

“Anything for you. I want to see them both suffer.”

Reggie smiled softly, patting Jeremiah’s head. His smile faded as he remembered about them.

“...And the other two. What happened to them?”

Jeremiah stopped and Reggie could see the remorse in his eyes as he gripped onto his hand.

“Junior died in the explosion, crushed by the debris. Poor child was simply unlucky.”

“And Jay?”

“...” Jeremiah went silent. Reggie’s mood and tone darkened. “Jeremiah. What happened to Jay?”

Jeremiah shakily sighed. Reggie was almost surprised at how sorrowful Jeremiah looked.

“Jay…He did his part well. But apparently, Lazarus did all the killing for him. He only managed to get the security down. By the time we were at the main gate, he got cold feet. He knew what we had agreed to. He died by Junior’s hands. One shotgun blast was all it took.”

Silence. Reginald’s face became unreadable as he processed the news. Jeremiah only held on tighter, leaning against his arm.

“I…I can’t say I did not expect it to happen. We both knew neither one was gonna make it, but I did expect a bit of a more…grander death.” 

“Reggie, I mean no offense or disrespect, but that would be asking too much of him. But he admitted to being…”a coward”. That’s brave enough for him.”

“Hm, I suppose.” Reggie looked back down at the photos and frames blankly. He pulled the photo of Jay and put it in the frame. He handed it and the rest of the photos and frames to Jeremiah.

“If you wouldn’t mind, I need these in frames and hanged. I would like you to put Jay’s by the kitchen door instead of our original spot.”

Jeremiah nodded, taking what Reggie had given him. “Of course. Anything else?”

“No, no. I would like to just be alone for a moment.”

“Very well, then.” 

Before Jeremiah could walk out the door, Reggie stopped him.

“Oh, and one more thing: I urge you to take some time for yourself when you’re done. Please. You look like you need it.”

Jeremiah was silent as he listened. He didn’t even respond, just left the room after Reggie was done talking. 

Reginald sat back in his wheelchair, staring at one of the static screens of the monitors. He felt tears come to his eyes as he let them fall, scowling at the reflection of himself. This was not his fault. Jay’s death was not his fault. He kept telling himself that as more tears came down. This was the fault of Irving and Lionel. They started this, they did this to them, and they were going to pay. Lionel wanted this, Irving’s words taunted in his head, fueling his anger and hatred further. Lionel wants this. Lionel-

“...Jay?”

He suddenly was snapped out of his thoughts by Lazarus’s voice crackling through the speakers. He looked at the lobby’s monitor, seeing Lazarus stare at the recently hanged portrait of Jay. His shocked face shifted into one of mourning.

“He was a good man…” He whispered to himself, believing no one else was listening. “Maybe even the best of us.” 

Reggie watched as he went to his usual spot with Rust, talking to him like nothing happened. Reginald wiped his eyes, letting a quiet laugh to himself. While Jay did die like a coward as he always was, at the very least he was liked…even loved. As Reggie left the room and went out the kitchen, wheeling himself behind the bar, he couldn’t help but to glance at the portrait, staring at it for a few moments.

Lazarus was right. He was the best among them all. As much as a scaredy cat he could be, panicking over the littlest of things and straying away from fights or confrontations, he had a good heart. More heart than Reginald or Jeremiah could ever have. Maybe that’s why letting him go, while feeling awful, wasn’t so hard to do.

Jay had hope. Far too much in Reggie’s eyes. It reminded him of his younger self, so desperate to believe that there was good in people. So easy to control and break.

It had killed them both.  

[remxedmoon]

i hit 1k followers recently!!!! yipee!!!!!!! thank you all!!! so in celebration here’s all of my completed isat doodle pages, from oldest to newest. go nuts with them!! and maybe don’t look at the first doodle page too closely. it’s Old.

(no greyscale version below for once! just some mushy ramblings. you don’t have to read them don’t worry)

hhhhhha?? so many people. where did you come from. how did you all find me.

ok but seriously, thank you all so much for all the support. i never really. expected to make it this far? like, ever?? i’ve mentioned it a few times on here, but i’ve been a lurker for the past… 2 years, i think? and even before that, i never gained much traction outside of a couple posts. so this has been. very new to me!! in a nice way!! it’s weird to feel like an actual member of a community!! that people know about!

the idea of finally coming back to social media was Daunting (i literally got stress hives writing my first post lol) and the warm reception really. meant a lot?? i don’t think i would’ve ever gotten the courage to come back if i hadn’t been encouraged to by the people over at the isat discord!!

the fact that people actually care about my art still doesn’t feel real?? seeing people take inspiration from my art is just. surreal. just. auagssh. thank you all so so much for everything, i really do appreciate it!!! i’m really glad to be in this community. sorry if this all sounds sappy and long winded i’ve just got a lot of emotions about this whole thing!!

(also as a bonus for reading all this or whatever. here’s a concept page for isatscryption! it felt a little out of place next to my normal canvases so i’m putting it down here! yipee! sorry my notes here are so disjointed auauau…)

[labotor]

my bougie dwarf LoF rook Tyarva and her sugar baby silly charming professor who she adores so very much <333

[acekindaneat]

do you guys think serizawa has seen reigen somewhere before in passing

reference + another version under cut!

i knowww it's an old redraw thing but i wanted to redraw serizawa in it for so long... here's a version without the vignette

[lucabyte]

If you wouldn't mind, could you explain to me in detail how your sifloop works? Would there ever be a romantic relationship between the two (and how do you think they would get to that stage) or do you just think they'll be stuck in this weird messed up obsession and loathing loop forever? Anyway your takes on sifloop are my favourite if you couldn't tell

Oh, I've been depicting it as romantic the whole time (remembers I'm asexual and aromantic and thus my depictions of such are alien at best) Er, though you'd be forgiven for not noticing.

I know I don't draw them being particularly traditionally cute (kissing, cuddling, etc) (even though I do envision that any time it's not literally extremely inconvenient that they are entangled like a pair of magnetised squiddles) particularly often.*

(Though, I do have some hints at that kind of behaviour: (x) (x) (x)) But this is where, hm, my particular readings of these characters' self-assessment comes in.

I believe that I (an aroace tumblr user who has been immersed in nuianced language about such things since i was an early teen) and Siffrin/Loop (a guy approaching their thirties who seems to have escaped social pressures primarily via isolation from their peers) will have some different views on things. Hell, Sif/Loop don't even have words for Asexuality and Aromanticism even if they seem to be able to point toward the feeling with roundabout language.

I think that their relationship, in the way that it would manifest, would first and foremost be Physical. Some real Maslow's hierarchy shit. Both of them are viciously touch starved and given the whole shared-ownership-of-body thing I keep alluding to (x) (x) I think they are prone to being a tangled pile of limbs both clothed and unclothed.

Now I (enlightened modern day asexual) do not think that physical/sexual/romantic are in any way synonyms unless you want them to be. I believe that literally all associated behaviours of these can be platonic if that's how you feel about it. Howeverrrrrrr. I really cannot envision "black-and-white-thinking-world-champion siffrin and/or loop" being able to disentangle that so easily. I think they would have trouble squaring the circle of certain actions not being reserved for romance, at least not until after several years of continued unpacking and philosophical discussion with Mirabelle and Odile.

And then there's the part where Siffrin/Loop (and also Isabeau!) have some absolutely insane Jealous streaks. Not even on the downlow, they just do. I think that combination of jealousy and posessiveness when paired with unevenly splitting time between A Guy You're Established To Be (at the very least on his side, romantically) In Love With, and Your Weird Fucking Clone Who You Keep Being Intimate And Intensely Emotional With, is going to cause some problems when it comes to labelling things.

I do not think Sif/Loop are stupid, but man do they ever lack emotional intelligence in a lot of areas (a thing the whole game hammers home). I do not think that they would be level-headed enough to independently invent the idea of "QPR, but the kind where you do basically fuck sometimes". I think they would just (agonise over cheating, first of all.) call it a romantic pairing and be done with it.

And then Isabeau is also there I guess. I gesture at him and at my aforementioned Iseabeau Torment Nexus thoughts (x)(x). I believe this polycule can work and even be healthy but hahahaha oh man they are gonna have some weirrrrrrd fuckin tension beforehand lolllll.

as for how i think they'd get to that stage? lol, lmao. I think of things with a lens of 'what would be the most narratively intense' a lot of the time, so my answer there is:

They basically act like one right out of the gate, at least to the average onlooker**. This makes the fights feel worse. This makes them both paranoid in different ways about how this affects Siffrin's relationship to Isabeau. This makes it more difficult for the party to go "hey so, your friend, we're all being very accepting of their sharp edges because they're clearly someone who's struggling, but why are they suuuuch an asshole?". They fret about this and it causes more push and pull as either side feels guilty about this relationship they're not 'supposed' to have. Even if their relationship woes could easily be squared away by either categorising it as a QPR or talking to Isa (who is vaugardian and probably thus lax about polyamory) neither of them are going to do that right out of the gate because they lack the language, are prone to being wracked by guilt, often assume the worst will happen should they talk about difficult topics, and straight up maybe just see intimacy/sexuality/romance as a package deal due to lacking the social expertise... You see what I mean.

I don't Know if what I envision is... The literal platonic ideal of "A Romantic Relationship". I don't know that if Cupid came on down and inspected my brain that they'd agree that this is romantic and not just like, something really fucking weird, man. I don't even know if I would call it romantic, necessarily. BUT. I Do Think. That These Two. Would Maybe Label It That Way. Because it would make it easier for them to understand and come to peace with that way. Which is what matters. Labels are Descriptive, not Prescriptive.

What I DO think i envision however is something so fucking aroace brained that i can point to sif/loop's canon labels, point to MY labels, and then give you a big thumbs up hoping that you won't get on my ass for implying several sentences upstream that "they probably basically fuck, or something, idk, does star-sucking count as sex? i'm not a doctor nor medical professional of any kind. you probably shouldn't drink whatever comes out of it though"

Implicit question 2: "Jesus Christ you make them seem to hate each other, is that not contradictory? Is that all supposed to be during them being romantically involved?" Yup! Sorry for the subtle undercurrent I haven't previously explicitly and overtly established literally at all but a good chunk of that percieved hatred is a byproduct of Loop keeping their identity secret. That's the space wherein I set most of my fanart. (x) Once that cat is out of the bag I think the heat cools off significantly because then they aren't both talking around each other trying not to actually say what they're fighting about. They can actually bond about shared experiences out in the open rather than keeping their traps shut in case the party overhears. They still fight and have problems thereafter, but it's not made worse by being unable to directly discuss the core issue (+ the party can actually contribute/try to shut things down rather than being unclear on what exactly the issue is)

The above ALSO not helping when it comes to jealousy/feelings of infidelity re: Isabeau. (When specifically in the context of Romantic Frustration here, since that jealousy extends to the whole party when generalised) So that adds another thing to, not necessarily fight about, but be bitter over.

As for hatred being contradictory. Mmm. Nah.

The opposite of Love is not Hate. It is Indifference. (A theme ISAT notably gets at). Hate is distinctly something you do if you care. Often if you care Way Too Much.

I try not to write them hating each other, so much as feeling extremely intensely about each other. (x)

Feeling intensely Thankful, Understood, Sorry, Trapped, Devoted, Jealous, Protective, Pitying, Indebted...

^ Scary ! Complicated ! Hard to deal with ! Even the positive ones can be overwhelming! It's gonna make things weird!

So uh, Yeah. There's your answer? I suppose tl;dr: I view relationships as nebulous and only defined by those in it. (This is something I have previously yapped about at length in essays about my OCs lol) And generally view that there's no "true" label for any relationship except the one that doesn't cause undue distress. (which. i mean it does here. but it probably works out in the end with enough talking)

Asking me to define if something is romantic is like asking me to pin down the true form of the Human Soul. Like dawg i dont know how to do that i dont even know if that shit is real. there are merely actions and their constructed societal categories. If i tell you I think they kiss sometimes does that clear it up? (It shouldn't, obviously, but you get what I mean)

But yeah. Gestures broadly. Shipping an ace (and maybe even aroace based on some shit that little fella says) character like this means it comes with an essay. Because it necessarily interfaces with their nonstandard mode of interaction in that arena. The part where its weirdo fucking ♠ ♥ ♦ ♣ selfcest merely adds a layer.***

... Anyway I'll leave you with this. The mirasifloop qpr "so what is.... romance?" discussion sessions are probably downright dialectical aren't they. Feelings Buddies discuss the phrase "Self-Love" 23467324235 dead 3 injured

*i do have like . 2 wips. that would. include this kind of behaviour explicitly. but i simply have not gotten around to them yet. and also don't worry neither of them are purely fluff both of them still have an air of worrying fuckedupedness about them. yay !

** inkeeping with my "geared for maximal conflict" mind, this can be flavoured with some "technically nobody can say it's not canon, I guess?" during-the-game Sifloop. By handing them the 'started leaning on each other for comfort more blatantly toward the end of a4' thing, since, well, I think exploring the "Loop expected at least one of them to be dead by the end of this/Loop never expected this to end, and thus began filling in that 'Lover' role as comfort/pity/selfishness/mercy given their knowledge that Isabeau is forever out of reach for both of/at least one of them" angle is... Well it's certainly fuckin' compelling that's for sure. Like oops, you let the timeloop malaise get to you and maybe started a trist because you thought you'd be dead before there'd be any lasting consequences. Here's those consequences, motherfucker !! But you won't catch me putting that explicitly in my comics because I don't want to change anything about the raw text of canon when I'm exploring its consequences. However, nothing I do is Incompatible with this read. And I enjoy making things more tortured so. Shrugs and hands this to you. Be free. (....x)

*** those of you that know what i mean by this just had all of it click just now didnt you. lol.

[peridots-pixiwolf]

[Start ID. A redraw of the official icons of the ten named slugcats from Rain World, arranged in two rows: Survivor, Monk, Hunter, Nightcat, and Gourmand in the first, Artificer, Rivulet, Spearmaster, Saint and Enot/Inv in the second. Each is drawn in roughly the same pose as in the original art and fitted with speculative interpretations of their biology, and the second image is a “dead” version of this. For example, all ten have slug-like rhinophores in place of ears, cuttlefish-like colorful eyes with strangely-shaped pupils, cephalopod-like beak "teeth", expressive barbels or oral tentacles at the corners of mouths, spiny radulas, and the frilly mantle fringes of sea slugs, though otherwise their faces are squishy, simple and mammalian-shaped.

Cream-colored Survivor and yellow Monk both share triangular, bicolored spots matching their eyes (which are tan and brown, and two shades of blue, respectively), small, bumpy fringes, and relatively neutral looks on their faces. Defensive-looking Hunter is mostly a dull orange-pink, though their blobby fringe is a more violent red and their back is purple and marred with lumps. Nightcat is navy blue and flecked with dots of yellow and teal, their rolled rhinophores are a lighter blue, and their shading fractures into stars in some places. Gourmand is almost uniformly tan, their wide, very ruffly white mantle fringe bordered by a spray of white spots, and their beak sticks out from either corner of their smile. Primarily red Artificer, snarling, has yellow markings of multiple sorts, a prominent yellow dewlap and their characteristic dark scar taking out a chunk of its face. Rivulet is a darker blue than usual, with long barbels, red gills and rings, countershading, and a cheerful expression, sticking out their radula. Spearmaster is purple with orange accents, eyes and spots, a large fringe and spines down their back. Saint’s green caryophyllidia are marked by small, yellow diamonds, and their long, thin radula extends far below them. Enot is decorated with mottled red stripes, blue patches, yellow stars, and an uneven and almost cartoonish imitation of blush, though generally the same deep blue as Nightcat, a passive or almost slightly smug look on their face and their rolled rhinophores out to either side.

In the second image, nine of the slugcats’ eyes are crossed out, indicating that these are death icons. They look fairly the same, with mostly expression differences. Survivor is caught in the beginning of a threat display, a karma flower sprouts from Monk’s side, Hunter is burdened with overgrowing, purple and blue rot, Nightcat’s rhinophores are pinned back, and Gourmand looks mildly disheartened. For the final row, Artificer bites its radula between small plumes of smoke, Rivulet drops their expression, Spearmaster looks very startled, Saint looks almost entirely the same besides half-open eyes and their markings greater in number, and Enot grins confusedly. End ID]

If you'll excuse the unusually lengthy ID: the arena meme introduced by @pansear-doodles at long last after a nearly year-long wip status (or, rather, finished a month ago today to honor my own first time playing it!)

Design notes and shout-outs under cut! :]

The following people are some of those who’ve inspired my designs most since I started this eight months ago (or just inspired me to get a little weirder with slugcat biology), among many others for sure, and I thank them for it–but this is simply to bring attention to artists I find cool, and in no way an obligation to interact or anything :]

> @saturncoyote , @carpsoup , @charseraph , @gallusgalluss , @bitsbug , @dopscratch , and @0hmanit (and a special mention to dddeerbo and hunterlonglegs, who’ve since deactivated)!

Survivor: Surprisingly the hardest to pin down the colors for, since nothing with its sibling's palette seemed to match up right (I did have to add in a little blue somewhere for Monk, the beginning of making it clear how much I’m simply going based off of vibes for the colors of scug innards). I consider them, Monk and Gourmand to be part of the same gene pool of slugcats, and even possibly the same colony even if the latter isn't really related, so took a bit of Gourmand's coloring and fit them in with their inspiration: Goniobranchus verrieri. They serve as a bit of an introduction to my ideas of scug traits (i find it really fun how many people have thought to add so many silly sluglike fixtures of biology completely independent of me, buuut here I’m mostly talking about species variation), and like in-game they’re pretty average! They, Monk and Hunter have a couple scars sourced from a piece of Joar's concept art that I'm failing to find, those across the bridge of the nose, under the eyes, and across the rhinophores, respectively, and my Survivor interpretation features many on the back of the neck, as a result of survived lizard bites.

Monk: Their coloring is primarily based off the fact that I associate them with blue fruits, honestly, a bit because I was compelled to establish a familiarity with Rivulet, and lastly inspired by the spots of Goniobranchus kuniei (and geminus, less important to me as one of my characters is a kuniei instead, but more fitting). Between the yellow + blue and the circular marking in the center of their face, they’re meant to bear a little resemblance to an iterator that shares similarities with the characterization I’ve given them, and similar coding of her sibling can be seen on Survivor’s markings around the eyes. As both a “default” slugcat and one whose campaign I haven’t played, though, I can’t say I have much more to point out about em.

Hunter: The whole rot thing made for a really fun time drawing them, and while the color change on their back is a result of this, it’s also an excuse to relate them to Babakina festiva, arguably my favorite sea slug (mostly for sentimental purposes). And to Spearmaster, a fellow messenger slugcat, and it serves as a gradient between Hunter’s pink and the “traditional” color of Rot seen in the DLLs. Aside from their affliction, they’d actually be the plainest in terms of design, as they don’t have any patterns or quirks of body type, just the red + purple and strange lumps + possible malnutrition. I can’t remember if NSH had created them in particular or just...caught + released or something, but it probably wouldn’t be strange for a lab-grown slugcat to be simple like that.

Gourmand: Like the two above, they’re rather plain in terms of coloring and adaptation, and like the two above, I find that fun. I decided it would be nice to avert the “all slugcats being of the same body type, and Gourmand’s out of place as the exception” thing by just...adding more fat to all of them, really. I did want to emphasize their sheer bulk even so, both fat and muscular (not like I couldn’t have still gone further with it, of course, but slugcat anatomy can be a little obfuscating sometimes, and they were intended to look rather plush considering personal size headcanons and therefore the lack of proper gravity), and the thick and flounced mantle looked like a good addition, as per their sea slug Glossodoris hikuerensis. Unlike Survivor and Monk, I didn’t attempt to hold their resemblance to any particular other character (which means a little less to balance out the “default gene pool” thing), so those are all the design notes I have for em.

Artificer: The second slugcat I’ve ever played, or finished the campaign of, my favorite for at least a long time, and the first thing I did was give them yellow accents, the shape of which have troubled me slightly (not quite like the spots or stripes of the others). They’re both a little more appealing and more explosive-looking to me, and considering how early on I played Arti, actually present in some of my older art. It does give them a little resemblance to Saint (completely intentional, two slugcats with strange relations to karma), as well as the fact that its radula is green for familiarity with one of its children (at some point it was going to have all-green markings, even!). I’m generous with their scars, partly because it was fun to overemphasize the one on their face and partly because it does seem like a reckless slugcat, on top of the dangers of its explosive abilities–I’ll probably just keep adding more forever. Mostly-red sea slugs aren’t too common, but Hexabranchus sanguineus works for sure. The ridged, yellow dewlap can expand for combustion purposes, or something along those lines. Arti’s where I began experimenting with a lot of the mildly-offkilter features seen in my interpretation of slugcats, as they’ve once again been a favorite from the start.

Rivulet: I've obviously given other slugcats spots, deeply enjoy the bubbly-soda markings of other peoples' slugcats, and thought seal riv would be cute. Despite not too closely resembling it, they've been government-assigned Hypselodoris bennetti, for color reasons and for a couple sentimental ones. Originally, the colors of every scug were meant to match up with the custom colors I gave them at the beginning of their campaigns, (though Arti, Gourm and Spearmy are the only three who actually apply here, since I've only played through half the slugcats: I gave arti the yellow as mentioned above, gourm brown eyes and spearmy light pink spears, furthered by the outskirts pearl accompanying me and that palette all the way to moon. Tolerance training for eternity in hell cause I already knew about the maroon pearl quest). I initially gave them the colors of the bi flag for fun... but with the limited palette of this image, I was left without pink for a while and decided to see how they'd look in red. I then realized how they now wonderfully matched Moon, and besides, red's a sort of camouflage in deep water! As a side-note, the difference between their eyes and those of others always bothered me a little for anatomical purposes, and the cephalopod eyes were probably influenced by this!

Spearmaster: Inspired as much as possible by @notyourfunnyman ’s wonderful spearmy: designed in a way that helps it fit in with scavengers, at least between the long sensory tentacles, big ruff, back spines and slightly thin/distended anatomy, a form of defensive mimicry. I always had annulate rhinophores in mind, for a little diversity sure, but mostly because the shape reminds me of radio antennae and communication towers (seems fitting for the comms array and being a messenger slugcat)! I started searching for a real-life slug to give them just by looking up their rhinophore shape...and was met immediately and coincidentally with annulate-topped nudibranchs that fit them more perfectly than I could've imagined: Flabellina and surrounding clades, I think Paraflabellina ischitana works very nicely. The orange was completely unplanned, but there wasn’t a place for light pink among the other slugcats’ palettes, and importantly it likens them to both Hunter and Seven Red Suns a little more.

Saint: I am very much a non-furred slugcat enjoyer, with respect to those who aren’t, so figuring out the only visibly furred slugcat was an interesting challenge. I’ve decided that they likely have other, milder adaptations for help in the cold, mainly just more efficient fat storage, and what looks vaguely like fur is instead a bunch of tubercles (called caryophillia, for the second reminder out of three). Their inspiration doesn’t have these, however, Miamira sinuata’s numerous yellow and blue spots (not to mention...whatever’s going on with that shape) and general effect of being the only really green nudibranch I could find were probably perfect for a strange green echo. Not pictured, but their beak-teeth are tiny and flat to make a surface for grinding soft food against with the lack of a functioning radula, which is tipped with a specialized spiny “grapple-hook” for better traction/grip (not to mention the numerous little teeth running down the whole thing).

(Best part of hiding this under a readmore means edits will be seen by all reblogs, I'm mostly sure, because I completely forgot to mention! The spots on their forehead are simple eyes. Their camera eyes appear closed in-game, I like to believe their complex eyesight is rather poor anyways or otherwise reason that they aren't seeing out of those, and while this was far from her REASON for attunement with the world, it does help compensate for mainly viewing it through a canvas of simple light and dark. This, and the fact that their swapped-out "fur" is not only to commit to a lack of hairs but contributes to sensory input!)

Nightcat/Enot: I guess you could say I found the “these two are technically the same person” compelling. (E.g. similar colors, both very strange and enigmatic, and Enot/Inv/Sofanthiel’s remark during the dating sim about getting removed from Arena Mode.) I doubt they’re the only two slugcats in their body, considering humans with DID tend to have more than a few (and I find it very funny that a slugcat bearing resemblance to Nightcat appears in Gourmand’s ending. They’re allowed in the colony and Enot isn’t </3), and I have to credit @faelingdraws ’s art for being what convinced me on it! Their design inspirations come down to trying to balance a few different ideas: making the patterns and palettes of both look oddly similar (special mention to the stars, since those are fun to draw), basing them off of Felimare sechurana and juliae respectively, using blocks of color with the same placement as in Enot’s official art, and specifically making Enot look...biologically reasonable and imperfect, whilst also clearly trying to imitate human displays of emotion (what with...the eyes and blush on that one piece of official art).

Lastly, here’s just a lineup with notes on body shape and size. Most of the nicknames (existing to give a little more space, that’s all) are obvious, and while I can’t remember why I shortened Nightcat to Nox, it is in honor of my friend by the same nickname :]

[oathkeeper-of-tarth]

Time for a long Aylin ramble, because I haven't indulged in a while.

I'm actually really invested in Aylin being an aasimar! I do not think it is a misnomer or mistake, as I've seen people suggest. She was referred to as a celestial explicitly in some older builds of the game, but this was changed at some point during development. And I noted aasimar enjoyer Oath, quelle surprise prefer it this way for a variety of reasons. Primarily, I think, because it lets her be larger than life, have a touch of that other-worldliness and otherness, while keeping her very much "of this world" still, very (physically and otherwise) present and part of the prime material plane, and ultimately far more human than I believe even she herself would sometimes like to be.

To bring up the most basic and rules/mechanics-bound "creature type" level of categorisation, as an aasimar she is a humanoid, and not a celestial - outsider. Her outsider status is absolutely there and a goldmine of things to explore, but that's a different post sitting in my drafts for far too long that I'll get around to one of these days (but for now you should read this post that I love). Yes, she is in a very real sense above it all, she will outlast everyone around her and whatever she gets involved with. We also get to see her dramatic poetic archaic speech idiosyncrasies (Ho!), her odd sense of the passage of time, and, of course, her oft-discussed and joked about apparent lack of filter or regard for current social graces.

(Endlessly amused at her just going: I'll do it when my mum tells me to.)

All things combined, Aylin feels more like a being of two worlds to me than a guest visiting this one, even as she is called the emissary of a goddess. She embodies a blending and an odd balancing act between the lofty divine and the mundane, duty and preordained purpose and personhood, and touches on the many ways this balance can be tipped. A classic D&D aasimar struggle, really, and a well I am happy to keep returning to.

Balthazar: She was a unique specimen even before I began my work. Aasimar. A god's blood united with mortal flesh.

She honestly isn't even that far from a regular aasimar stat- and ability-wise - Aylin does have several special abilities, but these are flavoured as blessings from her divine mother instead of an inherent property of her as a creature - though, notably, Aylin herself at one point claims she is always reborn because "it is [her] nature".

“Blessed with the favour of a goddess, Nightsong cannot be permanently killed. When unconscious, at the start of her turn she recovers 1 hit point.” “Nightsong will be resurrected by the powers of Selûne whenever she dies.”

Importantly, she does not get to reincarnate, or get a new body, or flit away to her "home plane" or anything like what celestials get to do. She is anchored to this one physical existence (again, very human of her), tied and limited to this one body as it painstakingly repairs itself over and over and over (to a sometimes extreme extent, e.g. the all but outright stated regrowing of amputated body parts in a frankly horrifying context), insistently and indomitably but ultimately imperfectly. And I think that's part of why the kintsugi design drives me utterly wild, why her immortality setup is more interesting to me than, say, a mutant healing factor, or something like the characters in The Old Guard. Her history is pretty literally engraved on her skin, and when she, in the role of a power-granting artefact and the object of a ritual sacrifice, tells you she will feel every wound you inflict upon her, it is so easy to believe her. And I'm not even that invested in physical suffering, just that it means it's all still very palpably there, forever, and she doesn't get to magically restart with a clean slate in this sense, nor does she get to forget past lifetimes as some creatures like devas do. It's just a flavour of immortality I personally find far more engaging than most.

(I mean, yes, I am also a known hurt/comfort sucker and if you're going there in order to set up a scene where she's, I dunno, getting doted on by Isobel who's invented new scar tissue pain relief massage techniques, you know I'm going to be all over that.)

I'm also not sure I'd say she can just pop over to Argentil to hang out with her mum at will. I mean, planeshifting is not that hard to achieve, and also she can just… ask Selûne, ultimately, I guess. But I wouldn't say she has spent much time there, and I think she takes her role as Selûne's champion and representative in the Realms too seriously and too much to heart to be away from them for very long.

Which also calls to mind the issue of the obvious and "simple" answer to Isobel's eventual death - namely that with Isobel picked up as a petitioner soul they'll all just go live out the better part of an eternity in Selûne's realm. Probably in some form they will - it's never guaranteed, but this time, yeah, probably something like that will happen, and there will be, as Melodia says, no loss, only temporary separation. But I'm really not into just handwaving or stripping away most of the mortal/immortal pairing issues inherent in the relationship. If we're going for the "hang out in a different plane of existence forever" option, I think at one point Aylin would have to "complete" her duties and lay down her sword, in a way, and pick between Faerûn and the Gates of the Moon - meaning she herself is effectively moving on to a completely new phase of her existence as well.

And while Selûne carving a lovely marble statue and bringing it to life and similar takes are fun and beautiful and interesting, I'm very invested in an Aylin who was born, raised, and had to actually grow up and learn and be trained. I have a ton of headcanons of Aylin being a weird glowy baby at some point (with all the Disney's Hercules jokes I've seen folks make, of course), being entrusted to a series of Selûnite enclaves and temples and cloisters, hounded by Shar and her agents pretty much all her life.

(Neither here nor there, but Aylin also comes off as a fairly "young" immortal to me - note that I am basing this on absolutely nothing but a general impression and there's no actual hint anywhere about how old she really is. Just vibes.)

To finish up, I'd like to shout out Isobel, and the big humanising factor she is presented as. For instance, a very concrete bit of motivation for Aylin to eventually "humanise" her perception of time, if nothing else.

Aylin without Isobel is horribly depressing to me mostly because she seems to distance herself from her humanity and err on the side of holy duty (see: her epilogue letter, ouch). And Isobel is definitely the person who (invaluably, imo) explicitly and consistently insists on Aylin's humanity and personhood, who cares for her as a woman and not a divine weapon, who actually treats her well-being as a priority, and who understands her so very well and so deeply. Who does acknowledge the gloriously resplendent Dame Aylin, daughter of the Moonmaiden herself in all her awe-inspiring presence and occasionally amusing foibles, but who never fails to look past the titles and fronts even Aylin herself is so keen to put up, and focus on what lies behind it all.

A moment that sticks out to me in particular is her bemoaning Aylin's disregard for her own safety, then actually getting very angry if you suggest Lorroakan can't hurt Aylin:

Isobel: Even after all she's been through, she thinks herself unstoppable - invincible. It all feels like recklessness to me. Player: Lorroakan can't harm her. Have faith. Isobel: He can harm her. Just as Ketheric did. She'll survive it, but she can suffer like any of us - and for longer.

Using Isobel's words verbatim is a good conclusion to my thoughts here, I think: the truth of Aylin being "singular among us all" coexisting with all the ways Aylin is "just like any of us".

And now I'll pay the cute Aylin screenshot tax one last time.

[jellyfish-grave]

I thought Tumblr might like this one

[little-pup-pip]

could you make a moodboard that smells like cloves, and old books?

i feel like that’s a really weird way to ask that but also the only way i can explain it? Masc, please!

Please and thank you!

Definitely!!

[da3drat]

the last paragraph from this post by @khajiiti-dragonborn finally gave me an epiphany on why I find tes more interesting than other, better rpgs, and it’s exactly BECAUSE they dont answer any of their own questions. They propose interesting ideas (sometimes as a complete accident!) and then don’t develop them or follow them through to completion or they give an extremely unsatisfactory answer. And as a storyteller that compels me SO MUCH because it leaves me with a jumping off point and a world with pre existing lore to work in. Its like being given a prompt, but it’s even better than that because video games are an interactive medium so I can go IN GAME and hunt down locations and lore and random tidbits of dialogue to help fill the gaps, gathering inspiration as I go. (and then fulfill my lifelong purpose of writing toxic women about it)

[girlwiththegreenhat]

hey when they wrote "knight behind bars" and they wrote kitt helping a couple get together and they gave him the line "Some day, it will be my turn" [to find love]. did they know what they were doing. did they know that in some 40 years some gay autistic robot-obsessed little freak on tumblr would not stop thinking about it for weeks and write literal dozens of paragraphs screaming about it on discord. did they know they were going to ruin Me, Specifically, with this concept that feels like the culmination of everything kitt has gone through through the show and such a fascinating thing to think about in regards to michael and kitt's relationship,

one of the themes of knight rider is kitt developing as a Person, developing a line between the Knight Industries Two-Thousand, and Kitt. discovering humanity, his own emotions, the joys of the seemingly and logically pointless, and often through the lens of his own driver, his partner, his friend, Michael - his primary guide through all these experiences, his reference for those human things he doesn't understand. and as much as he initially claims to not be capable of experiencing emotions, of understanding feelings, he learns to. he experiences a wide range of emotions through the show even while claiming he doesn't, he even learns fear and insecurity. perhaps it's only natural a robot would learn to love, or at the very least be terribly curious about it and wonder if such a thing could ever exist for Him

the majority of people are not exactly kind to kitt. they talk about him like he's not there, they talk about him like he's a machine, a novelty, some people are even scared of or disturbed by him when all he's trying to do is make polite conversation and company. he's always Othered - there's no other cars like him (at least not anymore), but there's no other person like him either, he doesn't truly belong among humans or vehicles. some of the technicians at FLAG don't even seem to fully respect him as a person, at least they don't based on my vague recollection of how they talk about him in Junkyard Dog. when Michael asks him after KARR is destroyed if it feels good to be one of a kind again, he doesn't say yes or no - he only says it's a "familiar feeling." it may be familiar, but it's surely also isolating, and i think that's something he'd realize as he slowly picks up this curiosity about love. where could he even find it when so few people see him as an equal person to begin with?

and then there's michael. oh my god, and then there's michael. no matter what flavor you choose to read it in, the whole show is about their relationship, they're a duo, a set Not to be separated, they're Partners. they work together, they worry about and look after each other (forever insane about when kitt was a melted shell, Michael stuck around the garage for hours, waiting for any news like a worried spouse, constantly checking on him every opportunity he got... encouraging him to recover, and even helping paint back on his protective coating... kitt always looks after michael, but for once, it's michael's turn to look after Him), in a way they were Made for each other - Kitt more literally, being programmed for Michael and holding his namesake, but Michael was also made in a sense for the pilot program, hand picked and given a second life to work for the foundation and with this strange supercar. and even if they had a rocky start, michael comes to view kitt as a person - car, TV set, or computer core, Kitt is his partner, his buddy. he helps him find himself, guides him and teaches him about these things that make us human, and in a way, kitt becomes human - but his entire experience is still through the perspective of an AI in a car, it's still very unique and isolating, and I think he sort of grows into his own limitations, he's finally brushing against the walls that define him.

he learns of love, and then he learns to dream Of love. these things he sees in the movies, that michael tells him about, that he so often sees michael Partaking in that he gets so oddly jealous of, doesn't it all seem so wonderful? he's very curious. but who could ever love steel and circuitry, who could ever see him as an equal let alone a partner in a romantic sense? who would ever love a car and all the limitations That comes with? it's a problem for a hypothetical hopeful Some Day, in the meantime stuck between two worlds where he doesn't perfectly belong to either, where no car Can love him and no human seemingly Would love him...

and michael loves him anyway. before either of them really realize or talk about it, in spite of everything, in any form, regardless of the fact it wouldn't be a typical relationship by absolutely any means, michael loves him anyway. kitt is as much a person to him as bonnie or devon or RC, and that person is someone he loves and cares for deeply. the feeling is mutual, kitt's world revolves around michael, he's one of the most important people in kitt's life, and he'd do anything to protect him.

and it is michael that will finally teach him to love, and what it means to feel loved in turn, to be loved as the person he undoubtedly is.

[the-bi-space-ace]

There’s been some discussion recently about the subplot of bullying in The Bad Batch and I had some thoughts so I decided to write them out to discuss them.

I wanted to bring up some things that maybe can put together this disconnect we seem to see between the show The Bad Batch and the show The Clone Wars and maybe explains a bit about this whole bullied versus bully concept.

To me The Clone Wars paints a very different picture than The Bad Batch in a way that only serves to make the lines blurry and make the viewer think (perhaps not their intention but I think maybe they fell into this more on accident). The Clone Wars batch rolls in with a reputation that’s already not too great. Jesse even says it: it’s not that they win. It’s how they win. The batch is known for dangerous stunts that put other people at risk. They don’t always think through their decisions outside of themselves. Then we get this scene of them walking off of the ship and they are very arrogant. They show off, they talk big, they don’t exactly give off ‘approachable’.

We get into the mission and Jesse, in particular, is not a fan but it isn’t very aggressive yet. Crosshair is being confrontational - staring Jesse down, making snippy comments, and being an overall ass (I love Crosshair, don’t get me wrong, I’m just talking about what I observe in this introduction). I think it’s because he senses Jesse’s dislike of them and wants to poke at it.

We’re not off to a good start.

Where I think the batch fails in this episode is letting Crosshair insult Rex and further goad Jesse. Crosshair shouldn’t have said half the stuff he did and Jesse (and later, Rex) are justified in hitting back at him.

They’re soldiers. They’re going to get in each other’s faces if someone starts talking shit.

When Jesse scolds Crosshair - I think Kix is somewhere standing in the background but not directly involved- Wrecker steps in and turns things violent.

It’s not a moment I’m most proud of them. It’s actually one of the moments I’m least proud of them. Crosshair and Kix get into it when Crosshair shoves him for trying to help Jesse and Rex is attempting to get Wrecker to let Jesse go. This escalated quickly and I’m not sure I can say that this was justified. It seems like a big jump to me (but maybe someone disagrees, feel free to, I’d like to know someone else’s thoughts).

In this episode we’re really led down one path that says the batch and other clones don’t get along and from this limited perspective in this episode it seems like the batch are instigators. They roll in, avoid consequences for themselves, and roll out without giving anyone else a second thought.

The Bad Batch tv show paints an entirely different picture and it is definitely to make them more likable and relatable to a young audience. Every kids show has the character that’s an underdog, it’s who we want to root for. It makes the people in The Bad Batch’s age range connect with them more and I can’t exactly blame them for writing it this way - although after seeing the batch in the clone wars it does make me sigh a bit, I won’t lie.

I was bullied as a child. Quite severely, actually, so I find myself justifying the disconnect with a few things. Perhaps the batch puts up a front so they push other clones away before it can happen to them. I’ve done this. I put on a really abrasive attitude to keep people away when I was in high school and I regret it. However, I got over myself as I got older and worked through my own issues rather than blaming other people. Because you have to. It’s not alright to continue to hurt other people because you were hurt and I remind myself of that every single day. It’s the only way to move forward. I never have to forgive people who have hurt me but I can’t start using it as an excuse.

I mention this only to say that maybe their behavior in The Clone Wars was a mask built from past hurt and that could make sense to me. You build up walls when you’ve been hurt and you create behaviors based on experience. However, I still don’t think their behavior should be excused. I still think they escalated that situation far before anyone else did. In the same way I think Jesse made a lot of snap judgements about the batch and just kept finding ways to reinforce that judgement based on what he’d heard about them prior. And this snap judgment isn’t the best way to go about working with new people. It’s not an excuse, just an explanation.

I even think the batch’s behavior in episode 1 of their own show kind of contradicts some of their behavior in TCW. Particularly Crosshair. Crosshair doesn’t engage in the cafeteria until he absolutely has to while in TCW he is the primary instigator. We can try to explain this by saying it’s because his chip activated and his personality shifted. I just think it’s something worth pointing out.

I’d also like to add that of course the batch are the primary instigators in The Clone Wars because the clones we knew and loved in that show are technically the heroes of the episode. Of course they’re portrayed in a better light. It’s the same as the batch in episode one of their own show. Of course they’re portrayed as the ‘good guys’. It’s their show. To me it’s less of a character moment and more of a way to get the viewers of the show to root for somebody, whoever they want us to root for in the moment. The Bad Batch is told from their perspective so they are going to be the underdogs while The Clone Wars brings the batch in as outsiders to the group and gives them a more aggressive interaction to further our already beloved character’s narratives.

This was a very long way to say, I’ve always been kinda meh about the whole ‘the batch is bullied’ subplot and I tend to avoid writing it in my own fics because I think there is inconsistency with the writing between the clone wars and the bad batch and this can possibly be boiled down to a few things like different writers on the creative teams, an uncertain future, and wanting to paint certain characters in certain lights because of the show they are on. Rather than actually being a truly defining character arc it is a tool, as most writing is, it’s just not a tool I particularly care for in this story. And while I do think there are inconsistencies I can piece together some things to explain it if I really want to. I don’t think one side is right and one side is wrong. I think there are a million explanations for hurt on both sides and we decide it for ourselves because neither show truly made it clear enough for me to draw any lines in the sand. (And if you’ve been reading my stories at all you know I love a good grey area so I probably wouldn’t draw lines at all.)

I always try to be fair to everyone when I write stuff like this so I hope I’ve covered all of my points well enough. There are plenty of things to say about this topic and it has been talked about a few times recently in other posts that you can read. Tagging 1 by @laughhardrunfastbekindsblog and 2 by @gars-technician because these two posts inspired me to write this.

I’d definitely encourage open discussion here if anyone wants to chime in 😊 while I know we might all have different opinions I’m certainly willing to hear them as long as everyone is respectful.

[thegreatyin]

How did you manage to handle not one, but FOUR separate accounts in fl? I recently made the account for my HD little guy but having to do the tutorial again just seems miserable

there's... weirdly several answers to that question, actually??

a HUGE part of it is due to the way FL is structured. the 10-minute action timer is a core part of the game on a fundamental level, and the fact that i can very easily run out of stuff to do on one character and thus have an excuse to quickly and easily swap to another is just... convenient? satisfying? i'm not entirely sure how to explain it. the fact that i can make progress even while i am fundamentally simultaneously Not Making Progress is like pure dopamine for my freak insane awful little brain. there's just something really pleasing about spending all of my actions pursuing The Goal Of The Day™ on one account before casually swapping to another and doing the same without feeling like i'm wasting time or acting to the first account's explicit detriment. the downtime helps! the recharge time helps! the structure really really works!!

i'm technically only actively playing three, maybe two accounts minimum. the only reason the fourth (the one that'll be my future BaL playthrough) currently exists at all is so i can get his earlygame completely out of the way now and not have to waste time running through it all later, when what i actually want to do is play the ambition i've made myself wait a full year to play. and also getting free goodies as seasonal stuff happens,, something something surprise tools to help us later. the only two accounts i'd say i'm really "actively playing" at the moment are caeru and lark- and of the two, lark takes the most priority, since his ambition is the one i'm currently pursuing in earnest. for a couple months now- despite being My Main FL Character- the scoundrel has actually been pretty inactive on a gameplay front outside of the occasional progression in TLC and discordance content. purely by virtue of having Very little left to do outside of Very long-term grinds and vanities. they're in their "now what?" "now you can start playing the game" era. they've graduated to previous protagonist background cameo in a sequel anime series. they're like the yin FLPC equivalent of red at the top of mount silver. they're Literally just vibing rn. i only keep posting about them regardless because i'm insane and i will never ever ever ever ever let that bat go. but yeah, big TLDR, outside of doing the bare minimum to keep making waves/notability up every week, i'm not actually spending that much time on accounts i'm not currently actively interested in playing. and that accounts for way more gaming spoons than you might think.

i have a virtually lifelong history of playing MMOs, especially and specifically world of warcraft. i was born in the endless grind for useless video game pixel vanities and/or bragging rights. molded by it. you all have merely adapted to doing the same piece of content a pointlessly excessive amount of times for literally no reason besides whimsy and folly. me? i've done my time. i've served my sentence. i've spent weeks doing the original burning crusade netherwing dailies. i've devoted days to running praetorium over and over and over again, back-to-back, nonstop, long before square enix cut it in half and made it NOT take at minimum an hour and a half per run. i've perfected my silverwastes + auric basin goldfarming strategies. i've (almost) crafted dragonwrath tarecgosa's rest. i've killed the sha of anger so many times its dying scream of agony is embedded into the very fabric of my being. ""only"" doing making your name content four times over? that is nothing to me. it means nothing to me. it is so infinitesimal i can do the persuasive seduction quests in my sleep. it's not a matter of handling misery, or having the capacity, or even sighing as i remember the brass embassy raid segment of the watchful questline seriously i don't know why i keep forgetting that exists or what even is my problem with it i just am so consistently mildly inconvenienced by it and its highly specific resource requirements and it is the worst thing ever. maybe i'm just so used to the scoundrel's near-infinite money and troves of disposable items that i've completely forgotten what being poor is like. despite having done that step 3 fucking times now. ahem. anyway. i have transcended the feeble mortal bindings of my resistant-to-grinding flesh and ascended to a higher plane of enlightenment, they may call me insane but they will be the ones left laughing when they see what that "insanity" has wrought, i've usurped them, i've usurped them all-

hacks and coughs and awkwardly clears my throat. i mean. uh. um. Ahem.

the empress' court artistry + tales of the university nerfs helped too.

[evil-mcytblrconfessions]

tumblr kww fandom was formed seperately from most other social media corners of the fandom. and that leads to silly things like the commonly used name "kww collab" and kenfies vs kenifies. and probably more. cedar if theres any more im forgetting that u know of say them pls

(in response to this confession)

[hero-of-the-wolf]

just a little heads up that I'm grieving a really close loved one rn so I'm probably gonna be a little more distant and subdued :(

[r0ttenb0gb0dy]

✨ meet the artist, @r0ttenb0gb0dy edition ✨

i have no idea what i look like but my husband fact checked this and he said that it looks like me so i am going to assume he is right 🩷

ive never done one of these so i kinda just infodumped . if anyone has any questions don't hesitate to pester me i love to talk !!!! i don't bite i promise . i am just a simple line cook obsessed with a video game from 10+ years ago (this can apply to many games) and a writer when im mentally capable of doing so .

bog loves u all . mwah .