#rootbeer reggie

[rrawrrxd]

the hex guys line-up

[sonarsunbeam]

"We're so happy without your noise."

happy 6 years to the hex. had to draw one of my favorite games over one of my favorite albums <3

[nuclear-angel]

Daniel Mullins tarot cards I made for a school project

[cavernclaw]

the hex? more like the se- *gets shot*

[garrett-strangelove]

Reginald from The Hex

[theblacksheepcz]

i forgot to post this here aswell

[nyantropy]

"The future is now, old man" ...Wait, that's the wrong quote-

"The Hex" is a great game

[scover-va]

Insane old bastards i love them so much

[ashtxeman]

that's my beautiful 8-bit wife ❤️

[gayland22]

was gonna be smth bigger but eh . young reggie be upon ye

[darkclownsado]

aftertaste

a fanfiction written in 2022. ao3 link here. under the cut for those who wish to read it here.

“So. It’s over then?”

Weasel Kid was the first to speak up, after the barkeep had choked out Lionel Snill. It seemed his words brought a moment of relief to those in the room, a sigh filling the air, the once tense fog now not so unwelcoming. “He’s dead. Lionel’s gone.” Weasel Kid looked around the room at the assortment of characters he found himself with.

The bartender leaned back in that uncomfortable-looking wooden wheelchair of his, Jeremiah perched on its back rest, claws digging in. “I suppose,” the old man muttered. “It’s time for a proper introduction.” He looked tired, despite it all. Despite it all, Weasel Kid repeated to himself. Didn’t anyone else feel the adrenaline?  

“My name is Reginald. Though, usually, I’m called Rootbeer Reggie,” he said. He gestured behind him, towards Jeremiah. “Jeremiah and I, we were from Lionel’s first game. His first game that he chose to abandon and delete, in favor of having Super Weasel Kid look good.”

It felt like all of the bar’s patrons had their eyes rest on Weasel Kid in that moment, and he felt a small sense of dread from the possible judgment in their eyes. “‘ This game was built on the ashes of another ,’” Weasel Kid said quietly, reciting words that lived in the back of his head that he couldn’t pinpoint why they had such a hold of.. “ ‘The vengeance of Reginald…’ I should have known. But it’s been years, I wouldn’t have-”

“All of us have been wronged by Lionel,” Reggie said. “And you all knew what would happen.”

There was another cold silence. Chandrelle stole a glance at Lazarus, who was intently looking at Jeremiah with unease. FPP looked to be more at peace, based on his body language. It wasn’t as if they could speak, but Weasel Kid couldn’t imagine something somber coming from them. Bryce’s gaze lowered. Rust was staring at The Artifact.

Weasel Kid felt their fur spiking up. Why was he having second thoughts about this? He agreed. He agreed and he watched and he knew. He bit back impulsive words resting on his tongue. “I still don’t even have a room here, man,” he said, hoping no one caught the waver in his voice. “And now it’s early morning, we’ve been awake for hours. Where the hell am I - or any of us - supposed to go?”

“You can always leave,” Jeremiah said.

Weasel Kid couldn’t help but glare. “Yeah right, with Mr. Murderer over here? All our asses are going to get caught for being a witness to killing Irving at least, ” he growled. “Not to mention how The Artifact was stolen and used!”

“You helped us,” Jeremiah shrugged. “It’s far too late to back out now.”

Before Weasel Kid could jab back with an insult, Reggie interrupted. “Both of you, shut up,” he said, rolling his eyes. “And Jeremiah, go fix up the spare beds and the room unrepaired for our guests.”

With one final look of distrust, Jeremiah scampered away - it unnerved Weasel Kid how quickly Jeremiah answered to those orders - and Reginald focused his next words more so on the other guests. “As for the rest of you, take care of Irving’s body. I don’t care where you put him, as long as he’s out of sight and you tell me where he winds up.” 

Lazarus set off, slower in his steps. “It’d be best to put him in the second rooms in the kitchen,” he said, thinking out loud. “...Chandrelle, could you help me?” The sorceress scowled, but followed. Weasel Kid could hear her as she left out for the elevator, something about the cellar and someone named Vallamir. FPP followed behind them.

Bryce looked at Rust, then at Weasel Kid and Reggie. “It’s been a long night,” he said, sounding tired. “I don’t know if anyone’s hungry after all of this, but I could whip up something real quick.” Reggie nodded thoughtfully before Bryce left as well. Weasel Kid watched him go, his lips curled in apprehension. It bothered him that Bryce was, seemingly at least, one of the most ‘normal’ of them, yet he couldn’t get a good grasp on what he was actually like. S’what happens when you assume the guy’s a murderer right off the bat, I guess, he thought, with a pang of regret.

“I suppose you two want to bother me about something, considering you haven’t left yet,” Reggie quipped with a raised eyebrow. 

Rust was looking at the wall and window where The Hex had once been opened. It was back to normal now, no evidence that a portal had been opened at all. “So, all this…” the old man’s fingers twitched. The knife he kept strapped to his front looked more nonthreatening than Weasel Kid had thought of it before. “Er, what now? What about… What about-”

“Rust,” Reggie said, though his tone of voice sounded scolding. It was odd, to Weasel Kid at least. “Rust, what matters is that for now we’ve taken care of the root of our issues. We’ll get to the next hurdle when it happens.”

“I don’t understand,” Rust said, and for a moment Weasel Kid had forgotten how Rust creeped him out. He wasn’t muttering about murdering whoever those characters from his game were, or asking him if he’d shot any groondas. He sounded lost.

“I know you don’t.”

Why does Reggie sound so dismissive? 

“Where’s Rocky?”

Who’s Rocky?

“You should head back to your room. Take a rest.” Reginald rolled over to the exit, guiding Rust out. “When you’ve slept on it, I’ll talk to you again.”

Rust left with no verbal protest other than an aborted sentence, bu het looked back with furrowed brows, expression unclear. Weasel Kid was left alone with Reggie, feeling more conflicted than he had before. “Speak up, sonny,” Reggie said, making him flinch a bit.

“Did you mean what you said, back when this started?” Weasel Kid fidgeted with his gloves.

Reggie’s eyebrow raised. “Hm?”

Weasel Kid looked down. “You said I was the only one you trusted here,” he recalled. “I know a lot of this was all a lie. We were all here for a reason. And that was the murder. Maybe it’s cuz I worked with Jeremiah and helped get The Artifact. But…”

Reggie held his head in one of his hands, leaning on the armrest of his chair. “Hm, I guess so. We are more connected than you knew, after all,” he said. “I knew you. You didn’t know me, but I knew you. I saw your creation, I heard of it. And I was excited. You were Lionel’s latest creation, and I loved you because I loved him.” There was a trace of a smile on Reginald’s face, where crow’s feet rightfully creased.

Reggie’s voice took a dip, and that trace faded as soon as Weasel Kid had noticed it. “I don’t think I could discuss how Irving handled your release and my deletion. I don’t like to think about it at all.” He sighed, sounding older in a way that he hadn’t earlier in the night. ��In a way, I hated you. Rather, the idea of you. But none of it was your fault.”

“I guess calling you Gramps earlier wasn’t too wrong,” Weasel Kid tried to joke. He fell into silence. It wasn’t very funny. “I don’t understand. Jeremiah, he was hostile to me, back when I didn’t even know. And yet, he’s the one I worked with to… to destroy The Gameworks with. Does he hate me? Does he not care?”

“Jerry is his own person,” Reggie shrugged. “His feelings are his own. To tell the truth, he doesn’t care about what happens to others or if they get hurt. But he does what I ask.  It doesn’t matter if it’s repairing the floorboards or gaining a hold of The Artifact.”

He doesn’t care who gets hurt in order to do his job, was unspoken, but it lingered on the tip of Weasel Kid’s tongue. He felt like Reggie could very well say it too. 

“He only cares about you.” Weasel Kid opted for saying instead, unable to hide the disgust in his voice.

“Hm! I suppose!” Reginald didn’t sound bothered at all. 

“What…whatever, man. I don’t care about that creep either,” Weasel Kid snorted. You should take better care of Mr. Shrewd. He’s getting older. He felt anger catching in his throat, bubbling, boiling , want to be released no matter how inappropriate to the rather collected conversion., and he tried to relax his fur so he at least looked calm. “...I don’t know. I kinda…”

Reggie looked surprisingly sympathetic. “You’re having regrets about Lionel.”

Weasel Kid bit his tongue. “...Yeah. I mean, he… He didn’t know we were around. He couldn't have known how much he hurt us. And I…”

“You miss him,” Reggie finished. “You miss the old him. When he was young, and riding on his sudden success. Then he grew up and left you behind.” 

“Exactly- oh. God, that probably makes me sound worse,” he mumbled. “I just- I miss when everything seemed good. I miss when the idea of being in a game was fun. I miss being among the clouds, or jumping on those groondas. I-I miss Mr. Shrewd. He was like a father to me.”

Weasel Kid exhaled. “Ever since, man, it just feels like my life should be over. It all feels bleak. People used to like me. Now, I just became part of a sellout, just the staple of a ruined game.”

Reggie paused for a moment, thinking over his words. “I get it. I think most of us here get it.” He wheeled over to be next to Weasel Kid. He put his hand on the mustelid’s back, a reassuring presence. It felt so familiar, so much like their roles were meant for this. Like they were meant to be here, old and young, abandoned and left behind. The ending conclusion to a beginning they didn’t know existed.

 “Have you ever figured out where that squirrel from your game wound up?” Reggie asked. “I wouldn’t know if he was reassigned or on hold.”

“ Mr. Squarrel… ” Weasel Kid hissed under his breath. He settled for a moment. “Okay. No, I don’t know what’s up with him. But he said he never even heard of Mr. Shrewd.”

“Hmm,” Reginald leaned back again, hands in his lap. “He was probably lying. I’m sure that Jeremiah could-”

“Listen, I think I’ve had enough of him ,” Weasel Kid said, voice prickly. “And… There’s more important issues than some SWK reunion party.” 

Reggie chuckled, and Weasel Kid felt a strange feeling of closure, somehow. Not closure to Mr. Shrewd, not closure to his feelings on his downfall, and not closure on Lionel Snill. Just a general feeling that maybe, just maybe, he was supposed to be with Rootbeer Reggie. Even if they butted heads. Maybe in some other world, some other universe where Lionel didn’t delete Rootbeer Tender, they could have been like this.

It felt like grandfather and grandson. 

[sonarsunbeam]

doodle dump with an obvious favorite

[sweet-and-insane]

Am I the only one who feels like Lionel's apology wasn't genuine?

For one thing, he sounded TERRIFIED in the WALK prototype, like he thought he was in danger. Maybe the forums told stories about game characters killing their creators as well, and he only apologized so his creations would spare him.

Also, it's kinda weird that he ONLY apologized to Reginold and none of his other characters, I mean, Weasel Kid's franchise has become a shitty, glitchy mess, Bryce no longer exists Combat Arena X, Cooking Granny, or ANY video games anymore, Rust was left in an unfinished world where he would never get his happy ending, ect. So why just Reginold? Did he somehow know that Reginold was the one in charge of plotting his murder?

Also, WALK takes place AFTER he sent his apology to Carla, and yet he STILL pretended that Super Weasel Kid was his first game and that Rootbeer Reggie never existed. He could have just said that Rootbeer Reggie was his first game and leave out all the "characters are alive" stuff, but he decided against it, probably for the same reason he deleted Rootbeer Reggie in the first place. For his reputation. So he sent it to Carla so that it could possibly be seen by his game characters, but not by his audience. Also, it takes a good amount of effort to find out about Lionel.exe, so most people probably wouldn't be able to see it in the first place.

In short, I believe Lionel only apologized to save his own skin, and didn't actually do anything to make it up to Reginold. What do you guys think?

[cavernclaw]

[theblacksheepcz]

Six minor details that I love in The Hex:

Saying ‘for Mir’s sake’ instead of ‘for god’s sake’ because Vallamir is the closest thing to a god in the video game universe.

When a character goes from being a small sprite to normal they’re ✨Decompressed✨

“Let’s press forward.” (-Jeremiah in Vicious Galaxy) GET IT? PRESS FORWARD?? ON DA KEYBOARD???

you can hear the healing sound effect when Irving takes a bite out of a pie in Cooking Granny

FPP holding on to the trophy from Walk in Reggie’s hut…

Six. The Six Pint Inn. Six guests. Six game segments. Six sides and six angles on a hexagon. Sado as a spider has six legs instead of eight. EVEN THE TELEPHONE IN THE BEGINNING HAS SIX BUTTONS-

[scover-va]

11 hours of hard work later and I’ve finally got refs for this silly au done

Gonna make a few more characters, but these are like. The ones that matter at all. I’ll work on figuring out details just gimme time. Rust’s design is relatively the same outside of some scarring, but like. It’s ok bc this is his game, after all. Even if waste world isnt a game in this au