I just spent 2 hours trying to explain my RQ Roleswap AU for my last Stevetember post haha-
Buttttt ofc I rambled so much it got confusing yayyy
SO!! Here's the uncut version! I have simply Too Much Lore and Even More Time! I hadn't even gotten into how he found out abt the multiverse through Shattered Time or TFC's relation with the roleswap or the multiverse curse and the roleswap! There's So Much! (Pain. I will never be able to explain it all)
This AU is more or less about changing unrecognizably, healing, fate/repeating history, and loops. It all begins after Sabre has spent years alone with Origin, teaching him and growing together. Sabre had changed over the years - into his god form, with wings and animalistic legs and antlers upon which crystals grow. His first god form is mostly green and white. Technically, he has 3 god forms and 3 "mortal" forms.
Origin had started creating the Steves, and becoming an independent young man. Sabre knew he wouldn't need his guidance much longer, and he couldn't reveal his true identity to the first Steves. But he hoped, maybe, something may come along and take him away. The loop, age, something. Nothing came - he realized he had to do the leaving. He worked towards creating a portal, which would close behind him. Somewhere unknown.
He wound up in the RQ Roleswap timeline - in episode 32, aka the pig episode. So already partway through the first season. He retained all his memories - and so he knew what had to do. He had to change history, and change everyone's fate. Most importantly...Orange Steve's. He can't let this all fall down again. He had to unite them all, before bringing about any heroes. He had to support everyone, give everyone room to breathe, treat them all with the love they may not deserve, but that they need. He needed to greet the world with open arms.
Heh, Epic reference :>
Anyways, yeah. That's the basis of the AU - Sabre uses his memories/experience (and carefully constructed journals) to change fate and lead with love. He goes on to warn the Steves of the future, their fates, and their choice to follow it or not. Despite his new outlook on life, he knows he isn't perfect - his past haunts his every calculated move. He tries to just experience reality as it is, but slowly that alienates him in a different way - people are so surprised to hear his thoughts behind all of it that many look up to him. All he really wants is to give everyone a choice in their fate - even his enemies - and appreciate what he has, and had, in this moment. And that mindful, kind mindset puts some people in awe.
Even before he regained his god form, Sabre was already put on a pedestal he tried to jump off of repeatedly. It's not to seem humble - he genuinely doesn't want this power, this gift of second life. But he'd never waste it - he can't let them fall again. One of his greatest accomplishments, in his opinion, is his ever-growing library of stories. Of journals others have given him, his own observations and notes, and of history books detailing stories long gone. He wants to tell everyone's story, and his library is the most important thing to him (in that sense). A daring dream that he has witnessed so much success with. He takes no interest in censorship or revealing secrets, only to make sure they are remembered. Every one of them, every person he meets, every path he has followed.
Near the end of the "main plot" of the roleswap timeline, Sabre locked up Origin (who is in TFC's role) in more chains, refusing to listen to his call. But, eventually, he starts to drift back to the past...if only his old friends could see he's finally saved them, finally been a real hero for once.
Soul and Corruption, the swaps of Time and Elemental, decide to work together to give Sabre a gift: a portal, that they hope takes Sabre back to his home timeline. He's so so excited! A chance to show that he didn't waste his new life! It lands him in the middle of the Rainbow Kingdom just before og Soul/Corrupt attempted a seige with the Darkness, aka episode 144. It takes some convincing to get RQ Light to let them stay - as not only did Soul/Corrupt come with, but so did Orange Steve, who became the 3rd hero....Void.
In the roleswap timeline, Sabre looks more like Shadow Sabre, while Crystal Sabre (the Shabre of the timeline) is brightly colored. The crystals replace the darkness, being amalgamations of infectious gems, so bright they can set things ablaze with sunlight. Sigils are the new crystals, being darker colored just like the main color Steves. In this world, the shadows are comforting and kind, while the light is deadly and violent. (Though no, they aren't really nocturnal...I might change that eventually). Naturally, the Steves have dark skin tones and eyes, looking all too much like the darkness infected. Similar can be said of the og timeline in comparison to the Crystal infected, though ofc the infections are a lot more frightening. You could consider it to be the first stage of infection, I guess.
In the roleswap timeline, there is a specific set of swaps, that change how Sabre is recieved in the og timeline. It goes like this: Prof. Red, Rainbow Red. Void, Rainbow. Soul/Corrupt, Time/Elemental. Assistant Steve, Hypno. The First Curse, Origin. Galaxy, Nightmare. Ultra, Chaos. Faceless, Great Librarian, Ghost. Shadow, Sabre. Sigils, Crystals, Darkness. (For trios, just move them one to the right, that's the role they take on)
This goes beyond Rainbow Quest itself. Twisted Rainbow and Steve Legends are affected, too. There are two TR roleswap timelines. The first one, which TR Shadow/Elite ends up in, only switches he and Sabre's roles. The second one is a semi-shitpost idea turned canon and is completely wild. Btw, the first name takes the second name's role. It goes: Shadow, The Great One. TFC, Sabre. Sabre, Twisted. Twisted, M. Prof. Red, Hypno. M, TFC. (Yeah, that last one was intentionally an insane choice). TR is also the only universe whose roleswap still has normal Color Steves, simply because Twisted/Darkness is already an important motif/split as it is.
Sabre's, the main, FIRST Sabre's, story is split into several acts. Act 1: changing fate, where he repeats RQ with a new ending. Act 2: old friends, where he returns to the og timeline, and defeats TFC/swap Origin with his newest god form. Act 3: reliving history, where Sabre mentors Colle through his swapped timeline. Act 4: domain expansion, in which Sabre discovers the multiverse and is determined to save EVERYONE from evil. Act 5: returning home, in which Sabre, now caring for a whole multiverse, finally creates a portal to Earth, but has he changed too much? Act 6: doubled over, another shitpost idea made canon, in which Sabre gets stuck in a version of the RQ timeline which has both the og and swap versions, where the world is changing quickly, mimicking the og story, and where Sabre's desire to give everyone a choice in fate is tested.
I've had the AU for awhile before I listened to Epic, but the musical has inspired me to create for it, as well as consider the overarching themes!! So the first drawing, the dual timeline "mortal" form, is basically Sabre at the end of the au, as he becomes a fused form of the swap and og timelines' versions of himself. His crazy outfit is made of bits and bobs from people he meets, sometimes he adds stuff inspired by people around him, but a lot is just gifts he's recieved. He has a goopy Darkness horn and a sharp crystal horn, and a fluffy colorful tail and a sharp black tail. His eyes depict his former infection of crystals/darkness.
Drawing 2, in the upper right with Sabre's arms out in front of him, is meant to be him midway thru act 1. Where he willingly infects himself with the crystals, which are like the darkness, in order to be able to fight Rainbow (who created the infectious crystals, aka the Void of the timeline). Crystal/Shadow Sabres would probably be saying the lyrics to him.
Drawing 3, with the big barrier sigil over Sabre and the Steves, is based on act 6 of the au. He gets the Hypbo variants to help him create the barrier sigil to keep the Steves from changing unexpectedly due to the strange nature of their timeline (its Complicated, but the world is basically changing in accordance w/ the og timeline w/o anyone doing anything). This barrier, as well as the smaller, jewelry-based variants, protects them from time/space basically going by quickly. However, Sabre's insistence on keeping everyone from changing can be seen as almost manipulative, which is why he's saying the lyrics there. He can't give them the choice, not when the world is changing them without them actually doing anything. But by keeping them inside the barrier, he's refusing to let them experience it. So uh...yeah. Complicated.
Also...here, have this drawing of god form Sabre. Enjoy. I guess.
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Part 2: The Cross-generational Perspective
In which the influence of Cupid Hawthorne can be felt as early as junior-year history
Warning: contains a scene of murder (of a young person) more explicit than in the previous part, focused on in great detail - specifically, strangulation - and murder as a whole is discussed throughout. There’s also minor homophobia / historical gay denial from a forum poster, transphobia disguised as “it’s just a joke bruh” rhetoric, very mild NSFW implications in one paragraph, and a requisite Cuphead reference since Vidcund would have killed me if I didn’t work King Dice into this somehow.
Castor didn't start collecting trophies deliberately until the third kill. By then, they were more at ease with the monumental task they'd set themselves, and more certain of what He would expect of them. Besides, the higher the body count, the harder it is to tell the victims apart without a souvenir or five. A broken button here, a tie there... Every little helps.
The first and second are both embodied by the same thing – though the need for reminiscence there is more out of desire than duty.
Automatically, they reach for a side drawer on the desk, an old shawl wrapped in a plastic bag wrapped in their hand in seconds. It's how Moms used to store the old photo album at home (may still do, actually; they need to pay them a visit next weekend). But, if anything, the history book inside is even more precious and handled with greater care, each page the wing of a gossamer moth. To desecrate His face would be nothing short of sacrilege.
Their finger runs along His pale jaw, and they pretend the deep-set eyes widen slightly at the sight of them.
Soon, Cupid. I'm nearly there.
The eyes that will first see that face on the page belong not to the nonbinary person they will become, but a teenage girl who happens to carry the name and the penis she had at birth. Her identity is just one of the many things Castor has picked up over time, like pierced ears, the zits that turn her rounded face into a game of connect-the-dots, and a keen interest in aspects of academia that most of her peers refuse to touch.
That last one especially. She didn't get into AP History through luck alone, after all. And it's paid off – she's learned more about the 1920s and 30s in the month or so they've been covering it than anything she gleaned from comparing the differences between World Wars I and II. To a Sim who drinks knowledge like it's water, such a thing is invaluable.
No matter how grisly that knowledge is.
“--looking at the rise of gangsters, mobs, and other such criminals, and how that relates to what we've already studied,” says Mr Piper, breaking through her thoughts. Ah, today's one such 'grisly day', then. “It's no secret that Roaring Heights, even today, has something of a fearsome reputation; when we made our list of qualities a few weeks ago, 'bad crowd' was a term that came up a lot, as I'm sure you remember. The existence of these criminal syndicates was and still is a large factor in those bad crowds, both proverbial and literal.”
“Like the Hook?” shouts a voice (as best as he can with it cracking) from the back of the room. “Is the Hook a syndicate?”
“No, Elliot. And I thought we agreed we wouldn't bring that urban legend up in class again.”
Elliot groans, but he does stay quiet after, thank god. It's not even from the right decade... Weren't it still Sunshine Cove back then?
“I'm more referring to actual families with lengthy histories of illegal activity: the Reeves, the Dandys, and so on. But we're going to focus exclusively on the Hawthorne family today, since they are particularly notorious. Who here knows which crimes the Hawthornes are the most tightly associated with?”
Hands rise sporadically around the room. Sam Nguyen's was up right away, but she was born there, so she's known about everything in this module so far.
Tallying the results in his head, the teacher stops when he sees her own hand still down. “Castor, I'm surprised you don't know,” he remarks.
“I've heard 'em mentioned in passing, Sir; I've just never had a chance to look into it.”
He seems to accept that: “Okay then. Glenn? Any ideas?”
“Extortion tactics, Sir? That's what most mobs do.”
“No it ain't! Haven't you seen CSI? Mobs are about murder. Culling the good guys, making them sleep with the fishes, capiche?” Orchid slips into an attempt at an Italian accent towards the end, one that doesn't jive well with the usual Hollow twang in the slightest.
“Uh, they probably wouldn't talk like that if they're--”
“Don't they blackmail people too?”
“That's the same thing, Clover!”
“Not really; extortion's more about getting what you want, blackmail's about them getting what they don't--”
A sharp tap on the desk with a spare whiteboard duster brings the class to silence and order... very temporarily, since it's broken by the sound of Steve's text-to-speech system. (God, she's just imagined that with a bad Italian accent too...) “Does it depend on which member of the family you're looking at, Sir?”
“That's right, Steve. And so are the other three of you, in that sense. Different generations of Hawthornes have those three aspects covered at different ratios. But while extortion and blackmail were reportedly the roots of the family business, it traces back to the 1910s, beyond the scope of the decades we are looking at this term. It's the second aspect – the murder –” Mr Piper lets the word hang in the room for a short second – “that cast the blackest mark on both them and the town as a whole from the years 1920 to 1930. If you can all turn to Page 74 in 'A Roaring Heights History' for me?”
Ever on the ball, Castor joins the others in retrieving their copy from the bottom of her quite hefty backpack. Damn lack of foresight. The air's thick with the sound of pages turning, numbers counted, 74, 74... ah-ha, there it is. Chapter title on the left, picture on the right, captioned: 'Cupid Hawthorne, feigning grief'. She glances at it by chance --
-- and the very foundations of the Earth shift beneath her.
He's so... striking. So real, despite the medium; like a firework given form. His jaw is practically a V, set in a scream, his lips curling back to show near-perfect teeth. Hair – no, she can hardly call it hair, it's a mane, swept wherever the wind takes it. His nostrils flare, highlighting a nose prominent enough to warrant sculptures, monuments. Eyebrows slant heavy in the fierce expression, and the eyes underneath...! There are a million and one stories within those eyes, greyscale though they are, every imagined fleck of those distant polaroid irises a new memory, of anger, of family, death, blood, anguish...
For a wild moment, for a wild lifetime, she imagines that it's her he is looking at, that his gaze is fixed upon her alone, that she's the reason for this burst of passion within such a soul. His voice, abstract, unheard, repeats within as the name lingers on his mouth, Castor, Castor.
When the world turns again and the echo fades, she's left adrift between peace and unrest.
Looking up to the classroom again is like stepping out of a cinema into a rainy day: brighter than hoped, darker than expected. To her surprise, only two minutes have passed since, given the clock's hands. She looks back at the people behind her. Sam, Steve, even Elliot... His face looks up at them all from the paper, captured and reflected from multiple angles.
And yet none of them seem to see him. If they look, it's briefly, before returning to the text underneath. There's a rarity in their books, and they're choosing to ignore it? Wait, Sam's looked up too – confused – was she, too, caught in the--?
“Uh, Castor?” she whispers. “You okay? You look pale. Need to see the nurse?”
“Uh-? Y-no, it's okay. I'll be fine.”
Castor quickly turns back to the front, to the task at hand – if such a thing even exists. There's words beyond the caption, and the teacher drones on, but they all seem strange now, nonsensical. An emotional dyslexia.
Is she really the only one to feel it? The only one to see Cupid Hawthorne, emblazoned in history, and have a reaction so...
visceral?
The haze the history lesson left behind shields her from the rest of the school day, for better or worse; she's unceremoniously home before she realizes it. Mom One is working tonight, so only her jade-green mother is there to greet her. Dinner's brief, a bowl of mac and cheese and a slice of sheet cake from the local baker's, and then it's time for homework. In theory, anyway.
In practice, the first word she types into Google, on reflex, is “Hawthorne”. She makes no attempt to stop it after that. She does have a week for most of these pieces, and a reputation of being prepared to uphold...
Result after result pours onto the screen, and with it information and revelation. First, that out of all the people in the room that morning, Orchid had been closest to the truth. Matters of money and influence are barely mentioned, with some of the forum users she digs up not even knowing that the criminal activity went that deep. All talk is of the War of the Hawthornes: the players, the game, and even a fraction of the cause.
Crimedivi
So turns out they used to run bachelorette challenges in the old days too?? They weren't c**** popular like now, but there were apparently enough of them that RQ ran one, and Cupid meddled in it by killing everyone off!! I mean, wtf???? Even if you don't like your family that's just low you know??????
Castor assumes the asterixes are due to the forum's format, rather than self-imposed (especially when the same poster later refers to it as a series of 'a**a**inations').
Allystelle205
I've heard about that too! That's why no one knows who Rose Quartz ended up marrying in the end, I think: she had to protect his identity to make sure Cupid couldn't track them and kill them again... :O
xxxgogetterx
“his”? wasn't she pansexual? there wouldve been women in there too dumba**
Allystelle205
Dude, gay people didn't exist in the 1930s! They would have been killed for--
She scrolls past that hot mess quickly until she finds a mod post warning them that her sexuality's neither up for debate, nor the actual point... she thinks. It doesn't have his name in it, so she doesn't get all the details.
movethatpawawayfromyoursim
Anyway, back on topic...... @crimedivi it wouldn't have been the first time Cupid killed off his own family. Pretty much everyone else in it are dead because of him after all – three in that car crash, one got shot, one got strangled. I forget which is which. After that level of evil, killing her suitors to get to her really isn't that much of a stretch
Crimedivi
ik ik but until then no one else had to get killed OUTSIDE off the family right?? and think about it, there's NEVER been a bc since where this has happened, people dying cus they wanna get married!!!! its just a new layer of bad somehow yknow??? kinda makes me wanna be sick!!
SpeckleP
Especially since Rose Quartz was like reeeeaaaally mentally ill. There's records out there of her being in an asylum once upon a time in Bridgeport I think it was. They say schizophrenia but I think it was more that Cupid had such a hold over her that she broke herself so he couldn't hurt her anymore or something like that? Imagine getting out of there only to lose even more people to him and not knowing why...
Crimedivi
now I really AM gonna be sick thanks SpeckleP!!!!!!
She looks at her hands, poised on the keyboard, then over to her open book. He's still there in print, facing away from the gossip about his motives and deeds that splits the screen. Castor slants him towards her again, giving him another long look, waiting for... she doesn't know what. Another change? How can there be change, when he has already infected her mind so thoroughly? How can there be anger, revulsion, at such a sight? And yet it's so easy for others to feel, firmly in the corner of the family scorned...
The book goes back down. Maybe there's something to what Sam said, after all. Maybe Castor is sick – just in a very different way to little Crimedivi.
This notion doesn't bother her as much as she thought it would.
The topic staggers on for another few posts (including a very pointed remark about the healthcare system from AtheistKatherine33) before stalling. Perhaps another website will bring her more insight.
Searching more specifically for “Cupid” this time, it's not long before she's inundated with a wall of neon text that looks like it's from the era of GeoCities, if not somehow earlier. But it doesn't take long for her to convert it into something resembling legibility. It's broken up by a picture – not a copy. This one's captioned “most recent known photo”, but he's less clear here, a calmer face in a crowd of dots and stripes, caught only by a red circle. His arm is linked with that of a black man to his right, in... is she imagining it? Or is it a protective sense? A partner of some kind? That'd be odd, given the era, and yet... they're standing so...
For the first time in months, Castor's chest feels a dismal flickering that she recognizes as dysphoria. She winces. Not now, not... Reading, more reading. She sinks into the paragraphs on paragraphs, feeling the flames of that shrink under a much greater fire.
1914-1918: Records show that Cupid H served in the Roaring Heights branch of the Allied forces during the events of the first World War. Debates are thick on the ground as to how many casualties can be attributed to him in this time ...
Winter-Spring, 1920: After a meeting with a rival syndicate, Oleander, Dogwood and Gillyflower H are killed in a car crash. It later transpires that the crash was due to sabotage of the vehicle in question; despite denying it at first, Cupid would later admit to being the culprit ...
Summer, 1920: Cupid strangles Blush H, then goes on to shoot Bow H in a duel to the death. These are the first murders that he is known to have committed directly, without the use of war as an excuse or a car crash as a buffer. Reports persist, though unsubstantiated, that Cupid was crying during these acts ...
1925: After five years of being in charge of the family business, Cupid H goes into an unexplained exile, leaving the company with no head and no direction ...
1930: A further five years of absence end with a secret reappearance in Raspberry Hearts. Cupid infiltrates the bachelor challenge of his sister Rose Quartz H, using Grey Tundora as a proxy to eliminate all competition. By the time only he and the person who will marry her remain, Cupid reveals himself to her, and--
“Cassie?”
“Mm?” She jolts herself back into the room in time to see a body in the doorway. “Yeah, Mom?”
“Are you okay? I've called up to you four times.”
Oh crap... first too little time has passed, now apparently far too much. “Sorry, I've just been doin' a spot of reading up. I'm fine.”
Mom Two doesn't budge. “I hope you did some of your homework before--”
“Oh, this is homework... sorta. Extracurricular – y- nothing you’d understand,” she reassures a little too quickly for her own mouth.
“What of, hon? Anything in particular?”
Yeesh, what is this, the Inquisition? I'm keepin' him waiting... “Just stuff, Mom. School stuff? That's what extracurricular means. And if I don't get back to it soon it'll be extra-extracurricular, so if y’all could... y’know...?”
The face in the door twists, disconcerted, confused. “Are you sure you're okay? You're not normally so ornery. If there's anything wrong, you know you can tell me and Laverne, don't you?” That look, backed with the sadness under her words, brings mollified shame to Castor's cheeks.
“No, nuffin's wrong. Sorry, didn't mean to shout; s'been a heck of a day, is all. I'm okay, though, honestly,” she adds before more worry can spawn from that. “Promise.”
This, at least, seems placating enough, since her parent smiles again. “Promise promise?”
“Yup. And if I'm wrong, sic Mom One on me in the morning.”
“I will. Anyway, I'm near about past going, so I'm heading to bed. Don't stay up too long now, will you?”
“I won't,” says Castor, already acutely aware of how much of a lie that could turn out to be. “Night, Momma.”
“G'night, little spark.”
And thus Mom Two finally departs, leaving her child to dive back into research, first online then back to off, under the watching eyes of a man briefly seen.
It's little surprise that she sleeps late, book tucked under the pillow; yet, inexplicably, she still jolts awake just before sunrise. She dreamt mostly of Cupid. She couldn't help it. A man so mysterious, powerful, and – judging by the hand pressed between her legs – experienced could invade the dreams of anyone if he desired it. (The fact that he would be several years her senior doesn't cross her mind, addled with mingling red and white splatter stains as it is.)
She spends so much time scrutinizing the parts of the chapter she missed over breakfast that she clean forgets to make up her usual teapot-ponytails. The excess hair weighs more than usual at her nape, a pleasantly strange sensation; few comment on it when she gets into school. At this point, they tend to let her more unconventional fashion choices slide.
Well... most of them do. As morning drags her kicking and screaming into the sticky, perpetual hours of lunch period, an exception first seeded years ago is set to prove the rule.
“Hey, Cassie. What's a gal like you doing in the boy's bathroom?”
Ignore him. Just ignore him. Focus on freshening up.
“Helloooo? I said, what's a gal like you doin--”
“That ain't gonna work, Lemonlips. I'm in too bad a mood.” Focus, focus. Sweep 'cross the eyelid, left to right...
Merlot barks out a laugh that morphs into a gravelly hack halfway through, courtesy of the cigarette aflame in his pale-green hand. “Shit, you're always in a bad mood now. What the hell happened to your sense of humor, babe?” he drawls, lingering on the final word as though it in itself is an insult.
Nothing, your sense of humor just switched into makin' me the butt of every joke when you worked out I was trans, her mind snarls, fingers curling around the eyeshadow brush. But there's no sense in voicing that. She's explained it to him before, even before their friendship dissolved, and he's never gotten it. Out of ignorance or malice, she still doesn't know.
Thank Christ he was in none of her classes today. After the morning she's had – distracted by a roaring beauty, sidelined by a surprise pop quiz in her worst subject, caught passing a note to Floss in Biology – more of Merlot than is necessary would turn her into the very being in the photo.
“I'm only saying that with you saying you're a girl all the time and wearing your hair like a girl and putting on that f-” he stalls, apparently thinking better of it – “makeup like a girl, you oughta be in the bathroom with the other girls. Sue me for making a good point every once in a while.”
A swift wave of red across the other eye. She loves this color; it puts more emphasis on the contrast within her pupils and less on the zit that’s somehow appeared in her eyebrow, what the hell? “Last week I was in the girl's bathroom, and you kicked up a stink about that too. Made out like I was a predator, remember?”
“Jesus Christ, I was only jok--”
“Yeah, well, it weren't funny. It were sick.” On to the next shade in her kit, a deeper hue this time, reminiscent of roses and blood... She wonders how often Cupid saw this color in his line of work. “Besides, everywhere else is full up today, so I'm stuck in here with you--”
“Riiight, right, gotcha,” says her fellow Berry dismissively. “Can't stand the thought of them being prettier than you.”
“It's not--”
“Don't lie, it's always been like that.” He stubs out his smoke on the wall, leaving one of many little marks on the linoleum. “Envy's your Achilles heel, babe, your deadly sin. That's why you broke it off with me, that's why you decided you were a girl – cus you knew you could never match up to what I've got to offer if you just stayed a boy like I asked.”
Her teeth grit together... is she being particularly touchy today, or he particularly aggravating? “Lemonlips, you know for a fact that's not true. I--”
“Bullshit it's not!”
Pain erupts in ear and vision both – “Gyah!” – he's much closer and louder than before, and the alarm's made her jab the brush through her closed lids and into the actual eyeball. “Sunnuva... ” Owww, she thinks as she pulls it out, sending an ugly smear along her right cheekbone, that's gonna sting somethin' awful.
“Sorry. Y-you okay?” she hears beyond the ringing. “Didn't... fuck your face up, did I?” There's a tremble in the tone, an off-key one. Did that actually...? Blinking the injured eye rapidly, she cracks open the other, casts it at him – Adam's apple quivering, but a smile in the mouth and the...
Laughing. The son of a bitch is still laughing.
The brush falls to the floor. Her hand reaches immediately, instead, for her standard trusty watch enclosed in a trouser pocket. By all rights she ought to have done this the second he saw her, but she had to give him a chance, didn't she? Like she does every single... ugh. She prays this time will be quick. Calm and quick.
“Uh, w- what are you doing?” the idiot says, still trying to stifle his guffaws.
“You know what I'm doing,” she replies, evenly. “What's important is what you're doin'. Doing.”
“Oh please, you think I'm gonna fall for that again? I'm getting wise to your tricks, Cas-”
But she is wiser. “No tricks, Merlot. Think about what you're doing. Think about what you're saying. Think about how you're breathing. Think about that breath, caught in your chest. Let it out for me.” The rhythm to her words is coming naturally, as is the subtle swing of the watch, a distraction to the other's eye. Even in their early days, he was drawn to this. “Let the breath in. Let the breath out. Focus on that. The breath in, the breath out. Focus on the breath. Focus on my voice, focus on the watch. Let us fade, let us stay, stay where you can see us. Focus on the breath and the voice and the watch.”
“Yyou're...” The protest is stoppered; he's already slurring.
“Focus on the voice and the watch. On the voice, the watch. The voice. Only the voice. Let the voice guide you. Let me do the work. Focus on the voice. Ignore how your eyes droop. Ignore how your tongue feels heavy. Ignore how your bones slouch. Focus on the voice telling you this. Focus all of your being on the voice. Ignore your tiring. Focus on the voice. Focus... and sleep.”
And he's slack against the wall, dropping to the floor in a well-executed trance state.
There. Now maybe he can shut up. Castor retrieves the brush from the ground, repacks her makeup kit, slips it and the watch into her bag. She's still got a while before class begins again. She can grab a snack from the cafeteria, she decides. Fix her eyeshadow elsewhere, add some blush. Read some more about...
She pauses in front of the door.
On any other day – on the same day, in any other world – this pause would be brief. She would shake it off, swing open and out into the school as herself. The satisfaction of seeing him down for the count would be enough, enough to quell everything, the haunting of her dream, the reminder of what was and what's to come. That would be the end of it.
On this day, she turns back.
A slow approach to her former friend. A discarding of the backpack. A lowering onto bended knees to see him up close. His yellow buzzcut is coarse, a shaved pattern disappearing. The insectine lines across his face are slack in slumber. Long eyelashes rest upon cheeks.
This much is true – he was pretty to her, once upon a time. But there is greater beauty than her own to compare him to, now.
He's not wearing his usual scarf; it's a warm sort of day, so it doesn't call for it, she supposes. The uniform looks incomplete without it, though. Too small for his body, too wide for his neck. His neck. Exposed, thin. The lump of a voicebox within is less clear, hidden by its stretching out, its length. She looks more carefully – there's a vein, or perhaps another birthmark of the skin, crawling to his chin.
It occurs to her, looking at it, how fragile a neck can be. There's only skin and blood protecting the windpipe, and not even that much of it. Anything could sever it, whatever the sharpness. A knife. A pen. A hand. Two hands.
Those of a criminal. Those of a hypnotist.
--three in that car crash, one got shot, one got strangled--
The bathroom at once seems much wider and taller than before, swamping them both. A dizzy Castor looks at her fingers again – red with makeup, green with potential.
Could I-? Could I...?
--the first murders that he is known to have committed directly--
She finds herself reaching out, softly, towards the breathing vessel. Two fingers, a thumb. A pulse underneath. He doesn't stir; the trance must be deep. So very...
He wouldn't even notice. He wouldn't wake. He'd never wake again, would he? No more of those thinly-veiled jokes. No more memories, tainted. No one hurt by him ever again.
And the ocean within her head would stop crashing at the shores of the skull.
--Cupid strangles Blush H--
Left hand joins right. Both fasten, like a collar, around the sleeping Merlot's throat.
Solid ridges form under her touch, columns of muscle. Tighter; the drumbeat rises, a steady rhythm. Tighter; she feels it when he subconsciously swallows. A circle smaller by degrees, the more she squeezes, her grip steadying with each of her own inhales and exhales. Calm and quick.
Calm and quick. Don't get carried away. Don't waste this. Could never waste this. Is she hearing herself, or him, or Him? Who's pretending to be her? Is this pretension? Too many questions. Too much air in the body of this waste of space, his arrogant being, his brother. Flush it out, flush it all out. Let oxygen drip away.
A quickening of the arteries – a fluttering, a stirring. Dammit. Merlot's coming out, he's aware, he's seeing the vice grip and the body attached to the grip and the eyes of red and green and blue that see him too. He tries to gulp in alarm, to shriek... it won't help. How can it help if he can't breathe to do it? He struggles underneath her, fails to back away, to press forward. His own limbs, ineffectual, reach up to grab hers, to pull her away from this most vital of tasks. A begging for mercy, when he offered her none. A chance to let go.
She presses harder.
He croaks, panics, claws at her haphazardly, barely scratching the surface, much less the spirit; they're limp before he knows it. He's kicking out now, but she isn't dislodged. He has no quarter in this battle, this war, this slaughter. Not anymore. Not now she can sense that nothing's passing through, nothing in, nothing out. Focus on the breath. Hah – focus on the lack of breath. Focus on the blood vessels bursting, tinting the whites of him. Focus on the single tear. Focus on the fear, the danger, the regret, rising, then falling, fading, fading away...
When her own trance lifts, her palms can no longer feel his heart.
Castor finds herself unable to move at first. Then, gradually, carefully, she peels away from him, shuffles back to get a better look at this: her destruction. The body is unchanged on the fundamental level; buzzcut, filled with lines, lashes thick. But it's only a shell. Merlot, as she knew him, as grew up with her, as turned on her, simply isn't there, a victim of his own cocoon.
...no, not of that. A victim of me, she thinks. Thinks again. Victim. Killed. Killed him. It's almost tuneful. I just killed him. I've literally just killed a man. Didn't even need a car to do it. Just hands.
Wonder if anyone heard me doing it. ...wait, what if they did? What if they find his body? This is going to get out eventually. Lots of things do in this school. What if it does and they find out I did it? What if they see my fingerprints? What would Moms think? What would Mr Piper think? Floss, Sam, wh- what would...
What would He think?
The bag's been dislodged, somehow, in the scuffle. She pulls it back to her, as though in a dream. An errant streak of pink is on the front cover; she can clean that up later. What's important is Page 74, and the Cupid within. The restrained rage. The black and white look that's...
changed. Everything that was within before has coalesced into one emotion. She doesn't have to guess to know it's for her, or to know what it is.
Pride.
The world is suddenly and startlingly hot and cold and wet. She crushes the book to her chest, His picture flat against her heart by coincidence or design. At the same time, there's a smell of ichor and bone and fog, wrapping around her legs. The walls rumble motionlessly.
Of two things, Castor is certain in this moment. First: that Death has come to take the carcass, the damning evidence, of Merlot Lemonlips away. Second: that she will love Cupid Hawthorne for the rest of her limited existence.
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Reaction to "Rainbow Void is Hunting Me Down” and “Shadow Sabre confronted me” - Rainbow Quest Eps. 134 and 135
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=83TUcwuV9Y
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=umdUrUh9ipk
Rainbow Void is Hunting Me Down
This was kinda a mood whiplash, going from the previous episode with Sabre screaming and this episode, with a solemn and slow mournful tone.
The conversation between Sabre and Time brings up the topic of “individual vs societal pressure.” While society definitely is more powerful in influencing people, Void is both an individual and an outsider of society. Both Steve society and Void did a lot of bad things to Rainbow’s mental health. So who is really stronger? Society or an outcast? And if Sabre is also an outsider, then him blaming himself for Rainbow’s demise adds another way to explore this theme.
Rainbow Void is struggling with the crystals. That makes him not a complete threat, I guess. That buys the heroes time.
The crystals’ powers changing over the generation is an interesting concept. I like it when the magic systems and powers aren’t rigid in a fantasy world’s worldbuilding, aka soft magic systems.
“Like I said, you’re all just pawns in my game, and it’s time for another pawn to fall, and for another piece to move forward.” So it seems like Funny is going to be the last straw in the camel’s back for Sabre 8)
Shadow Sabre confronted me
Oooooooh ho ho hooooooo, this deep edited voice is so smooth compared to Illusion and Hypno’s voices :0
And the edited intro? The intro is so good! It really sets a turning point for this series.
This is getting cinematic, holy moly. It’s been years since I last watched a Minecraft roleplay with cinematic scenes. I know that Twisted Rainbow also has machima scenes, so I know this video style isn’t going anywhere. I am excited!
First time seeing the intro, I got chills seeing “Rainbow Quest” go from rainbow to grayscale. But the second time seeing it, I just whispered “corporations after Pride Month”
*
Sabre: *losing it*
Time: 😶
This storyline would go a different direction if Time just froze Sabre in time at that moment.
*
I’m guessing Sabre is completely controlled now, and the scene where he sees color is his small moment of consciousness while being a corrupted pawn. That is a really interesting way to do a time skip.
*
Dang, Shadow Sabre is sounding like a therapist. I had different assumptions about this character, so I was surprised that Shadow is forcing Sabre to relive Rainbow Steve’s destruction to help him accept and move on from the past. Of course, he’s being an ass about it because he’s forcing Sabre to relive his trauma, and he’s doing that to make Sabre accept his evilness.
Is Sabre the only character who was corrupted by himself, while the other Steves were infected?
Shadow, don’t give Corruption and Soul all the credit. It was Void who absolutely destroyed all of Sabre’s mental health. All Corruption and Soul did was help out.
Shadow’s got a point: Sabre did follow the prophecy blindly and forced it upon others, which is pretty horrible if you think about it. Keeping morale up has been Sabre’s biggest worry, and I really want to see how RQ explores the themes of hope and morale, especially since it’s really highlighting that “hope from fake prophecies and stories will do more harm than good.” This kinda reminds me of my analysis post on the Hero narrative where I concluded the Steves will benefit if they stop depending on the Hero and instead be their own heroes. The “hope in a prophecy” theme supports my analysis. If you tie my analysis and the hope theme together, a potentially strong message for RQ to give is “don’t find hope in false stories, find hope within yourself.”
Did Sabre follow the prophecy to help the Steves or to help himself? The answer is: I don’t know. Because to my knowledge, Sabre doesn’t have a backstory in RQ, which means we never knew what his motivations and core values were before he found out about the Steves. Maybe I just have a bad memory after taking a 1 year break from Rainbow Quest.
“As long as you believe they were mistakes in the first place, you will live with regrets.” - Shadow Sabre being an evil therapist again
*
The “One” theme is getting so big that I almost didn’t expect it.
It’s satisfying to hear Sabre say, “you shouldn’t force people to become one in the same.” Originally, Sabre wanted Rainbow to be just like the other heroes or another person’s idea of a hero. Rainbow’s death was an eyeopener, not just a breaking point. Sabre realized he was wrong with how he treated Rainbow, and that’s why he’s so resistant against the Darkness wanting to make everyone “one.” It’s very twisted that his best friend had to die for him to learn this lesson, but it’s tragically ironic that Void destroying Rainbow actually gave Sabre the final push and immunity against Darkness’ philosophy.
The “one” theme will probably establish the Darkness and Rainbow Kingdom as thematic foils. Darkness is forcing people to unite as one, while Rainbow Kingdom is a group of Steves willing to unite as one for a common goal (though they’re uniting to survive against the Darkness, so ironically the Darkness is still forcing them to unite)
I wonder how the story is going to further dissect the “one” theme when Sol starts to become a problem in the Rainbow Kingdom.
*
Shadow Sabre: the darkness of a warming blanket of love
Me: PFFFFFFFTTT
Me: I’m sorry, I just - LMAO, that was just so unexpected, and with that delivery, I just lost it.
*
Alright, I’m going to end my reaction post here.
Shadow and Sabre have a discussion about love. And well, I have Thoughts about their discussion. A lot more Thoughts than I had when I reacted to Violet Steves’ debut.
For context, I am aromantic. I regularly listen to, read, and contribute to discussions about love and society’s evaluation of love, inside and outside of the aromantic community. Because of my aromantic perspective, I believe my Thoughts on Shadow and Sabre’s discussion of love may warrant their own post, so I’ll save my final thoughts about this episode for that future post!
It’ll be a while until I make that post though. I need to figure out how to word my Thoughts. And I know my Thoughts may change after I see the entirety of Shadow Sabre’s arc and the future role of the Violet Steves. So I’ll have to watch more Rainbow Quest and document more of my thoughts before I make that post.
To the people who watched the entirety of Rainbow Quest: are there more episodes where Shadow Sabre, Sabre, and the Violet Steves discuss love? Please let me know. It’ll really help me out with my new analysis project!
Final reaction thoughts to end the post:
Well, Darkness, if you wanted oblivion so badly, there’s a guy called Unnamed you can speak too. I think he wants the end of all life as much as you do.
Wow, so Void is a pawn of everything too, which is crazy because he seemed like the main guy in control for a very long time.
Honestly, I’m glad that this episode isn’t just an overdose of angst and pessimism. It was interesting and thoughtful, and Sabre talking about regret being normal and kindness being the way to go is a breath of fresh air, making this episode have a lot of great moments.
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