#useless changes in the dreadful remake

[idiosyncraticrednebula]

The huge irony in The Little Mermaid (1989) essentially being about a teenage girl who desired to be understood by those around her, so she went to a drastically different society in order to achieve that, and it's one of the most misunderstood movies that Disney has ever released. Disney Princess movies already get a bad rap, but this movie, in particular, gets the worst of it. It's truly amazing.

[takonei]

Beta AU - Main story, Chapter 6, Trial (Part 7)

Note of the author: And I failed posting in a month. Also I have to remake the entire Beta AU info sheet because I changed my name. AAAAA- Anyway, have fun!~

Chapter 6: My killing game, our killing game

...

Shuichi could only hope he would get clear answers. He knew he shouldn't take it for granted, but a part of him was fully convinced the mastermind would keep her promise to tell the truth for rest of the trial.

As the long silence settled, he could only watch Kirumi choose her words carefully. Was this subject harder to explain, or would she break the pattern by lying or covering the truth?

"Well, well, well... What do you think he meant?" Monokuma answered in her place.

... Of course they would break the pattern now of all times. It was foolish to even consider excluding the possibility.

The bear did seem to genuinely want an answer. Do they really have to go back to this game of guessing like they did before?

The participants shared glances, silently agreeing that it was useless to bother answering.

"Come on, don't be shy! Guesses are never dumb, except when they are!" he cheered, as if that would motivate them even slightly.

Kirumi, who was watching from her throne, at least seemed to have a bit more awareness of the general mood.

Lifting her head from the palm of her hand, she asked. "... Do you know why I recruited Rantaro in the killing game?"

...

That was not what he had expected. It did seem like a genuine question as well, but how could they even take a guess? They knew nothing about their standards. They didn't know why they had been accepted, though Shuichi now had a good guess why he had been accepted.

But that didn't change the fact that he didn't have a single idea what the criteria for everyone else were.

Though, why bringing up Rantaro this way?

"How should we know? You just showed us a video where Shuichi said you could rewrite our personalities. I don't know what your fucking standards are." Kaito mumbled, breaking their collective silence.

The judge hummed. "Fair enough. Criteria should have been defined properly from the start."

"Oh my! Why didn't you just say so?~" the bear sang. "Perhaps indeed, our standards should have been made clear to our audience!"

Shuichi couldn't help but swallow in dread. He knew they wouldn't like the answer. But Monokuma and Kirumi were the only source of information about their past-selves that they had.

"Ah... Standards... Truly a subjective thing, isn't it? It comes and goes like the gentle tides in the morning breeze... Sometimes it's harsh, sometimes it's sweet! But no one will ever be able to truly understand them, and even less control them!"

Shuichi saw in Kaito's eyes that he regretted reproaching Kirumi about her nonsensical metaphors when Monokuma was even worse.

"Standards are unpredictable, they always differ from one to another based on pointless parts of ourselves... One could even say it is quite despairful! But that's what makes it exciting! No one knows which person will be the chosen one! Someone could walk in singing long tales of passion and pride, and yet they will be nothing next to the person with the funny hair color!"

"It only comes down to the mastermind's desires! But it always has been the shiniest gems in the gravel pile that managed to rise up to the top, those who have this tiny spark of excitement, of uniqueness! And it can be anything!"

'Anything' included his parents' wealth, it seems.

"If the person you are truly had nothing to do with the criteria, then we wouldn't have interviewed you, nor any of the candidates for that matter. We could have picked based on appearance, and that would have been the end of the story. Trust me, your looks had nothing to do with your presence here." Kirumi continued.

"No. The reason you're here is because you four and the ten other participants were interesting people to us. You had your own character, your own experiences, your own skills that were unique and stood out from the rest."

"What could I have possibly seen in Rantaro to think he was a suitable candidate for the game? Well... I would have laughed if someone had told me it was what would cause my downfall."

Miu's expression turned to dread. "Hold on... Why did you...?"

Kaito, on the other hand, didn't seem to like her answer. "Don't change the subject! We asked you about the flashback lights, what does this have to do with it?!"

What followed was a long silence as the latter was set on glaring at her until she would give an answer.

...

"Rantaro was a genius."

Kirumi's tone was flat. She didn't even seem mad, she looked... resigned.

"He was smarter than all of us combined. If he wanted to, he could have been the true mastermind of the game, and it's not like any of us would have stood a chance."

"But that? I understood it too late. I recruited him for his outstanding intellectual capacities. But truth is, I didn't know what I was getting myself into when I decided to keep them intact for the rewrite despite not even knowing how far they went."

"I didn't know what plans and theories he was going to come up with during the game. I didn't know if he was ever going to unmask me way before the sixth and final investigation. And while I did expect him to be a force to be reckoned with..."

"... I sure as hell didn't expect him to uncover almost everything there is to know about the flashback lights."

...

She had recruited him for his intellect... And he was actually right about everything he said...?

Did that mean everything they felt and their experiences were truly just lies Team Danganronpa injected in their brains?

"So the Gopher project... And everything else..." Miu muttered.

"That's just the tip of the iceberg." Kirumi stopped her. "Think about every single memory you possess, I can assure you it's not real."

Kokichi swallowed. "The incident... My friends at the orphanage... My entire life struggling to stay alive..."

"... It never happened." she finished his sentence. "Even your trauma was fabricated. Your mind was not that messed up before the game."

Kokichi fell silent. Shuichi couldn't even begin to imagine how it felt to have the guilt and psychological consequences of a catastrophe that actually never happened.

"There was no lonely boy roaming the streets to find bits of unfinished food not to starve, one of the sole survivors of an atrocious plague that destroyed his home city because of a karma strike, abandoned by the friends of his orphanage who saw him as nothing but a bad omen."

"Just like there was no famous biker whose determination to ride cost him his right leg at the age of thirteen, but still continued to train with his disability out of pure passion and hard work, becoming a champion without the world even knowing about his handicap."

"Just like there was no street artist living under the name 'Firefly of the city', making herself known for her legendary fluorescent artworks, being a strong and autonomous mother figure who took a child under her care and loving him like her own son."

"And just like there was no descendant of a family of musical prodigies, who despite a shy and reclusive nature, could display an unreal passion for his instrument that only the luckiest ones could witness."

...

So what Rantaro had said about his own past...

... Was actually true not just for himself but for everyone else as well.

He had heard it back in the courtroom just a few hours ago, but now it felt... Different.

Acknowledging the theory and it getting confirmed were truly different things.

Or perhaps it was the state he was in in both situations that made the sentence sing a different note. A state of overwhelming shock, the surreal lullaby of uncanny madness from a fallen soldier- versus post-acceptance, the sonata of truthfulness from the empress of lies, and the cycle of denial was reborn once again.

The first thing that came to his mind was the riddle he was given back when the Sanzu Garden motive had just started.

The long braids of lavender, the elder-sister figure of his life, fading into purple pellets flying away in the wind. Those moments of complicity- all gone, worthless delusions crumbling to pieces.

The concerts he had performed in, the musical training of his cousin he had assisted to, the loud meetings with the great musicians of the family, all reduced to silence.

The laughs he had shared with her as they were hiding with stolen cookies, the cries he had let out as he scrapped his knee in the garden, the disgust for the exact same three vegetables they both hated, all those insignificant things that didn't look so insignificant now.

Nothing. It was all gone.

...

No. It never existed in the first place.

Nostalgia was a distant attachment he had to let go but couldn't bring himself to. His past before the game was the only source of pure happiness that he had, and the only real memories he made were tainted by sorrow and dread.

Who was she, really? Was she someone present in his real childhood? How had they changed her in his memories? Was she still the big sister she always had been to him or was she laughing wickedly at his misery behind a screen?

What about his uncle, that he had considered as his father figure? Did he watch him throw himself into the arena as the main character? Had no one tried to stop him, or did they encourage him to make a deal with the devil?

All those questions he would never have answers to because he would certainly die before getting them.

As much as he hated Monokuma, he was right.

The only thing that could come out of the killing game... was pure despair.

...

How did Rantaro feel when he found out about all of this...?

"And I believe it goes without saying..." Kirumi somehow interrupted his internal existential dread in a blink of an eye. "... That the cunning hitwoman from the most feared mercenary organization in Japan, who used her inability to suffer as her strength and whose skillset was unmatched by even the most dangerous killers in the country... Never existed either."

"Lies, lies and lies again!" Monokuma cheered. "We thank the instigators for being such wonderful actors! Oh, to be able to embody the very soul of the character you crafted... It truly is a gift of life, don't you think? Though..."

"... We might have to thank our flashback lights as well for the great help they provide to our beloved masterminds!"

Something clicked in Shuichi's mind as he finally managed to shove aside the poisoned thoughts corrupting him.

The flashback lights... Of course neither Kirumi nor Tatsuya, the masterminds, were given any to alter their memories. They were mere actors, impostors playing with people who were in reality fictional characters.

But... Something wasn't right. He remembered clearly who stood out when they had checked the files. It wasn't as if Kirumi hadn't used any flashback lights. They had searched the laptop, she had files of her own: For certain 'chapters', a character file and a talent file.

As for Tatsuya, he was just like Kirumi, but without those two files.

"The character files... While you did have one, Tatsuya didn't." Shuichi frowned at Kirumi. "And that's the same thing for the talent file."

"Ohhhhh! You're riiiight!" Monokuma put a paw on his mouth, feigning surprise. "But perhaps, you are not taking into consideration a certain detail!"

"Which is?" Kaito raised an eyebrow.

"Puhuhu! That's for you to find out, of course!" he laughed.

And back they were to the guessing games.

Certain spotlights turned off to give a more serious atmosphere. It was clear they didn't have a choice but to obey.

"Shall we spice things up for a change?" the bear slid his paw on the surface of the podium in front of him, revealing a multitude of buttons. He immediately slammed one and grinned.

The TV turned on again to reveal a countdown of one minute.

"Good luck finding that oddity!"

And thus, the countdown began.

00:59.

And he didn't want to know what would happen at the end of it.

00:58.

Shuichi snapped out of his thoughts and looked at his friends, panic written on his face.

"A difference between the two?!" Miu repeated. "Wait, shouldn't their situations be the same?"

"I don't know what the 'character' file means exactly, but... Perhaps we can get something out of the 'talent' one?" Kokichi suggested.

The so-called protagonist started to think. Kirumi was a 'mercenary'. Tatsuya was a 'robotics engineer' who faked amnesia.

"Maybe it has something to do with what sort of talent they had? Kirumi's was more physical and Tatsuya's was more about knowledge..." he said. "Tatsuya pretended to have amnesia so he wouldn't have to fake a talent. And since his official talent was knowledge based, none of us would have suspected a thing after finding out what it was because it wasn't anything related to his physical abilities, but rather what his amnesia had erased!"

"Are we gonna ignore the obvious fact that he was a goddamn robot?!" Kaito retorted. "It could have been added some way or another without flashback lights!!"

"But Keebo was-

Shuichi interrupted himself when he realized that the countdown had stopped.

"That... That was it? It was that simple?" Kokichi muttered.

"Was the countdown necessary?!" Miu glared at Monokuma. "Or was it just to fuck with us?!"

"Aw, you probably shouldn't ask questions you already know the answer of!"

... Of course.

"Anyway, you two planned from the start that Tatsuya was going to fake amnesia, right?" Shuichi changed the subject.

"Indeed. Though, while that is the reason why he didn't have a talent file... It's something else entirely when it comes to the character file." Kirumi answered. "The very first flashback light he used was the one we used after the first trial. The one labelled 'chapter 2'. It's because he didn't need any of them before."

Chapter 2...?

Was this what she had referred to as 'acts' when she revealed herself as the mastermind?

In that case, the chapters just meant the period of time that included their daily life, the motive, the murder and the trial.

Which must be how things work in this show.

"The real reason why he didn't receive those two flashback lights is directly linked to the fact that in this game, I am human, and he was not." Kirumi explained.

"The human brain is complex. You could say it's a computer more powerful, but also more prone to failure. There are hazards that we can only kneel before, like physical or psychological trauma, but it can also come in much simpler forms."

"Do you really think I'm naturally that talented of a liar to have been able to deceive you all for three full weeks, including a therapist and several intellectual geniuses?"

This sounded... Very unlikely, but Kirumi had always managed to surprise them. He wouldn't have been surprised if that was the case.

"Even the most talented of gamblers and actors have flaws, though finding them is as hard as finding a needle in a haystack. Whether it's a hand gesture, a blink, unconscious reflexes... It's all those small actions that can out you as a liar."

"The character file that was used on me never altered my personality itself. It was no rewrite, it was an upgrade. A near complete extermination of all the defaults I had, all those little bits of dust that could ruin the entire game, reduced to nothing." she continued. "You have seen what the flashback lights can do to someone, right? Well, in my case..."

"... It just made me someone whose lies and truths are almost absolutely identical."

So the flashback lights didn't just serve to 'rewrite' their brains, but they were also a way to perfect themselves...? But if she truly was a perfect liar, then... How did Kiyo find out about her involvement with Kokichi during the aftermath of the third trial...?

And more importantly, how can he judge the authenticity of her words now? He was just starting to think she was truthful about everything, but she could have lied about her oath of integrity to take them under her spell once again, just like she did during the entire game.

"As for the talent file, well... I don't think I need to explain what it did."

"You just said you're a master liar yet you expect us to believe something that stupid?" Kaito spat out. "There's no way a flashback light did the entire job for you, or any of us actually."

"I can believe you somehow managed to make Maki an expert tailor, or Miu a talented artist, but there's no way some flashlight gave you that strength and agility."

He angrily pointed at her. "You're literally almost as much of a muscle mountain as Gonta! How do you explain that??"

Kaito raised a good point. Some things just can't be changed, right? His divine hearing, the incredible strength of about half of the participants... All those things that were not linked to the brain, but to the body itself. Something was wrong, and no amount of flashback lights could make them believe such lies.

"As I said, the flashback lights for me were nothing more than an upgrade. The strength I have, it's all natural. Because I had decided my title would be the ultimate mercenary, I was required to go under training... For three years I trained so I could be worthy of that title. The flashback lights only enhanced my reflexes and dexterity."

"This is the special treatment that our beloved masterminds get for free!" Monokuma cheered. "Since none of them would ever get their memories replaced, and thus, have a backstory that fits with their talent, it's only natural they get the training they deserve!"

Kirumi hummed. "No matter how much is rewritten via flashback lights, there will always be a dissonance remaining between what you think you can do and what you can actually do, especially when you have no fake backstory to back it up. Exercice trains both the body and the mind, one cannot work without the other."

"It's the same for the rest of you. Most of your talents are related to what you could do before the rewrite. We cannot make a true athlete out of someone who has never practiced any sports in their life. Whether it's an advanced hearing, art techniques, or as Kaito said, muscle mass, it's all enhancement when it comes to talent."

"Then what about my talent?"

Shuichi froze.

Everyone's eyes turned to the one person who didn't match any of the examples Kirumi threw out.

Kokichi.

"What did you do to me?"

...

Kirumi let out a bitter laugh. "As Monokuma said..."

"Don't ask questions you already know the answer of."

Shuichi frowned. The karma... The file...

The flashback light file...

...

"Kokichi didn't have a talent file." he mumbled.

It was as if the same conclusion echoed in all of their minds at once.

"Nothing."

Kirumi bluntly said.

"Nothing, is what I did to you."

Which meant Kokichi...

"You... You didn't..." he swallowed. "You didn't give any talent to me...?"

"Puhuhu... But what is there to give?" Monokuma taunted him. "The wheel of fate is for us to spin, not you!"

Kokichi paled. "Are you saying..."

"Indeed."

"Karma never existed in the first place."

The white haired boy stared at her in horror.

It was the only logical outcome of this... So why were they even surprised?!

"No. You're bullshitting. So many things happened that were only because of karma!" Miu yelled back.

"Puhuhu... Out of all the lies you could have decided to cling to, you chose the fictional concept of supernatural justice that punishes the worst monsters of this world?! Hahahahaha!"

Monokuma laughed harder than they had ever seen him do before.

As the robotic cackles filled the room, all eyes turned to Kokichi, who was still processing that not only was his life fake... But the power that had defined him was also completely artificial as well.

While put like that, it should have been obvious from the start, he still had trouble believing rationality when karma had been a part of their reality for so long.

"Shut up!! How do you explain me getting the code right on first try then, back in the hangar?!" Miu retorted.

"Whatever code that was typed in would have opened the door." Kirumi replied. "The only thing required was to type 50 numbers. Not less, not more."

"If you're curious, you got exactly 8 numbers right out of 50." Monokuma added. "Which isn't a lot, but hey! It's still more than average!"

"What about the spears that almost killed me, huh?!" Kaito argued. "Are you saying you managed to aim at Kokichi and still perfectly predicted my movements so the spears would only pierce my fake leg?!"

"They were aimed at you from the start, and Kokichi was never part of the equation. Also, you would be surprised by how precise an automated shooter can be."

It was clear Miu and Kaito did not believe their own arguments. They were blinded by their rage, refusing to believe a basic truth simply because it came out of their mouths.

The latter slammed his hands on the podium. "And what about the card games then?! How do you explain Miu being that lucky whenever we played?!"

Kirumi sighed, once again pressing some button from under the armrest. She extended her arm and something fell from the ceiling directly in her hand. It was... A card game?

"Catch." She threw it at Kaito, who inspected it. A regular card game from Kokichi's lab. "Now shuffle it."

"What?" Kaito raised an eyebrow.

"Do you want an answer to your question or no?" she glared at him.

Still doubtful, he shuffled it thoroughly.

"The first card you're going to pick is the 3 of hearts. Then the 9 of diamonds and then... The queen of spades." she said.

Kaito swallowed and picked the first card. It was obvious from the look on his face that she was right.

Then he picked the second.

And the third.

He looked at the card that was supposedly the queen of spades for a long time, eyes widened in confusion and frustration.

"How...?"

"Now put it in the middle and pick the card at the bottom of the deck. Let me guess... Is it the queen of spades again?"

He once again did as told, and...

It was clear from his frightened expression that she had guessed right, as impossible as it sounded.

"These cards have a special feature. Whatever is displayed on them is remotely controlled by Team Danganronpa in the studios." she explained. "It's not that hard to create rigged card games like these nowadays."

"Karma never existed because the people behind the scenes were making it themselves, in the form of small actions such as these."

"But how could we forget?!" Monokuma continued. "Some of it resides somewhere other than in ridiculous card games and simple codes!"

"Then what?!" Kokichi cried out. "What did you do to make me believe I was a living supernatural catastrophe?!"

It was heartbreaking hearing him scream in despair. At least Shuichi's talent, despite being artificial, was real. But Kokichi's was just the creators of the game messing with them.

"Puhuhu... Perhaps you should ask our beloved protagonist!"

Kokichi's head turned to him in a fraction of a second, ghostly lavender eyes staring at him as if he had just betrayed him. Something that made his blood curdle, even though Shuichi knew he wasn't hiding anything.

"Huh...?"

Before he could understand what Monokuma was trying to say, the bear pressed a button on his own podium, making all the survivors' spotlights turn off but the one Shuichi was under.

Of course they had to play that stupid game again.

Kirumi was also in the light. Which meant whatever Monokuma wanted him to point out was something they had found together.

Ryoma's notebook? No, nothing was written about Kokichi specifically.

So it was in the mastermind's room... Something both of them had inspected.

But there wasn't anything linked to Kokichi specifically, was there?

...

Oh no.

Not them.

"Please don't tell me that's what I think it is." he muttered.

"Puhuhu... Puhuhuhu!" Monokuma laughed. "Of course it is!"

Just the thought of it was enough to give him chills, so mentioning it out loud? It was completely out of the question.

"Shuichi... You knew...?"

He perked up at the accusation. "No I-

Shuichi suddenly withdrew his foot from the ground, letting out a faint high-pitched yelp. He swore he had sensed something touching his foot.

He knew the others were looking at him weirdly. Had they seen it? Or was he hallucinating?

"What is it then?!" Kokichi yelled at him.

But how could he even answer without making things even worse than they already were?!

The light slowly filled the room again, just enough so they could distinguish each other.

"It's... Kirumi and I we..."

He was stumbling on his own words. Great.

Shuichi swallowed. "Kirumi and I found... tiny robots in the mastermind's room." he explained the best he could. "I accidentally released them but- There were so many of them, I-

A high-pitched squeal interrupted him, coming from Miu. She had turned around to check something without success, and thus was left with only dread and confusion. "What the hell just crawled up my back?!"

It didn't take long for him to understand what was going on, and the fear rising inside of him was starting to spread, slowly but surely.

"Puhuhu..."

Of course. Of fucking course.

"Puhuhuhuhu!"

Of course Monokuma had to bring them in.

"Well well, my dear participants, I am overjoyed to present you..."

"... The Kichikumas!"

So that's what these abominations were for? Creating 'karma' by messing with them?

"The... What...?" Kokichi muttered, baffled by hearing his own name mixed with the mascot's.

"The karma itself!" he cheered. "They're such adorable little fellas who look like-

"-Undesirable animals." Kirumi finished his sentence. "Their job was to cause those little events that one could interpret as karma. Sometimes it was pushing an object off a roof or a shelf, sometimes it was revealing a clue that the killer had left behind if their intentions were malicious... That's what they were for. And of course, they never did anything to Tatsuya nor I since they were programmed not to from the start."

"Justice is a lie, karma is not real, and the wheel of fate is a toy only those in absolute power can play with."

Shuichi could only lower his eyes in shame for having believed in this fake justice.

The mastermind took a glance at them. "... I think they got the message. Those pieces of scrap metal have no use being here now." she said as she waved a hand. The creatures must have understood because they all started fleeing at once.

The metallic rattle of those little horrors running around to find an exit was loud enough for everyone to hear. While Kaito and Miu stared at them in awe, Kokichi had his eyes shut and hands slammed on his ears.

Even when the noise was gone, he could still feel the oppressive atmosphere, but at least the room was not infested with those mechanical rats anymore.

Kaito leaned to the side and put a hand on Kokichi's shoulder to tell him they had left.

The latter looked scared, but it could have been way worse.

"It was tricky to figure out all the ways luck could be influenced. The kichikumas could only change object placement, which in itself is already a lot, but it's mainly the other little things that made karma a concept all too real in this killing game." Kirumi continued. "All those little scenes were added for this silly game of make-believe, even I was sometimes fooled by it."

"But everything related to karma was planned by Team Danganronpa, that's all there is to it. Lies and wicked justice."

And it should have been obvious from the start. But after being spoon-fed this lie for weeks and with the boundary of reality and madness fading away as time passed, the reveal that it was only a part of their madness could only be shock-inducing.

Tenko, Maki, Angie and Kiyo... They never stood a chance because Monokuma had an excuse to out them anyway.

Blaming everything on karma was so easy that no one could question it.

Everything including...

The death of...

...

Shuichi snapped out of his thoughts. He knew this wasn't something that would leave everyone indifferent.

"But then... If karma isn't real... Then Kokichi's reverse disease back then wasn't real either, right? Hence the lack of file for it!"

The latter turned to him with wide eyes. "Which... Which means..."

"... That you were never responsible for Himiko's death in the first place. Not even partially." Shuichi concluded.

At that, Kirumi laughed. "Indeed, Kokichi's part of the despair disease was just a way to flesh out the drama. What one would call cheap shock value."

That's what this entire game was, after all. Unnecessary horror on top of more misery to please an audience addicted to drama. And of course, they would pay the price for it.

"In that case... The rest of the motives were just for shock value as well." he said. "Just ways to make us suffer."

Kirumi stared at him for a moment, then smiled.

"I feel like there is more rationality to this than I first thought."

What...?

"How so? You have seen what they are doing to us."

What was she on about? Was she talking to herself?

"I doubt the mastermind would simply want to make us suffer and kill each other. I know there is more to this but I do not have a slight idea of what their real intentions are."

No. She was quoting someone. But who?

"Hey, what the fuck is with you?!" Kaito spat out. "Quit it!"

"Perhaps the most perceptive people in the audience know what I'm referring to. But to answer your question..."

"... The motives were anything but shock value, and it's about time to review them one by one."

She extended her hand to reveal a book. It was...

... Ryoma's notebook?

She had taken it without him realizing?!

It's with a smug smile that she opened the book with her thumb and blocked it on a certain page. "Well then."

"Shall we begin?"

[writeyouin]

Swerve X Reader – Changes - Chapter 5

Chapter 5 - I’m Sticking with You 

A/N – Here it is to keep you all company in quarantine. Also, this reminds me of a fave song of mine: Honey by Bobby Goldsboro. As usual a special thank you to @rocksinmuffin​ for starting this off with the amazing prompts.

Warnings – Mentions of suicide and mnemosurgery.

Rating – T

Swerve sat at a table inside his hab-suite, holding a gun in his servo. It wasn’t fancy or large; it was little more than a pistol really, but it would do the job. He thought he’d feel something about his upcoming demise, but after spending all of his tears on you, there was nothing left to feel. Still, Swerve didn’t think he deserved a quick and painless death. That was why he was spending a short while re-watching his memories of you; it would help further twist the proverbial knife to cause a little extra pain.

“(Y/N), my dearest, my darling, my everything,” Swerve said to the paused memory that only he could see. “I always knew this day would come. I knew if we ever got together you would eventually learn that I was no good for you and that you would leave. Admittedly, I was being selfish when I married you. I hoped… I wish we could have had a bit longer together before you went away.”

He sighed, finding that he wasn’t out of tears for you as he previously thought he was. The coolant slipped unchecked down his cheek and Swerve continued his monologue, though his vocaliser was heavy with static as he did so.

“No matter what happens, or wherever I end up after this, I want you to know, I will always love you, even if you don’t love me anymore.”

With that, he played the memory he had been saving till last; it would be the last thing he saw before taking the fatal shot.

The memory was one of the many times that you had sang the Velvet Underground’s ‘I’m Sticking with You.��

Swerve’s frame shook with his final tears. He couldn’t keep his servos steady as he lifted the pistol.

‘Anything you want me too

I'll do anything for you

Oh, I'm sticking with you

Oh, I'm sticking with you

Oh, I'm sticking with you.’

The song drew to an end and Swerve closed his optics. He held the pistol barrel to his helm, vented air through his systems and put his finger over the trigger.

Ultra Magnus ran to the holding cell. Only minutes ago, he had made a check on the security cameras, which was where he saw Whirl unmoving in a pool of his own energon; if he had ever thought Whirl to be suicidal, he would never have sent him to solitary confinement.

Slamming his palm against the cell’s scanner, he opened the door. He scanned Whirl, finding him alive, barely. Rushing to his aid, Ultra Magnus applied pressure to the stab wound whilst calling Ratchet and Velocity for medical assistance.

Fortunately, while Ultra Magnus was doing all that he could to save Whirl, he didn’t miss the giant note on the cell wall. His optics widened in surprise and he sent out an all-bot-alert to find out who was the closest to Swerve’s room. It was Chromedome who responded first, with a general message of curiosity.

Ultra Magnus thanked Primus that he had go in touch with one of the bots who knew just how important a Conjunx Endurae was.

“Chromedome, you must take this message to Swerve immediately. (Y/N) did not leave him intentionally. An accident must have caused the Rod Pod to malfunction. He needs to know.”

“What are you going to do?” Chromedome responded, concerned for your safety as he had been since the moment you left.

Ultra Magnus didn’t mention his priority to Whirl. Instead he simply answered, “Organise a rescue party. Now tell Swerve. Go!”

That was around ten minutes before Swerve picked up the gun that could end his life.

You pressed a servo to a dent in your helm, already regretting the damage that had come to your new body. Fortunately, it was mostly just scraped paint, but you still felt the occasional twinge of pain from another bump elsewhere. Then again, you felt you could live with a bit of minor damage to your systems. After the Rod-Pod crash-landed on the alien planet, you knew your previous human body would have died upon impact.

Orienting yourself, you stood up, feeling nauseous when the ship lurched forward. You stood as still as you could, waiting to see if it would make any more sudden movements. When you thought it was safe, you walked across the ceiling of the upside-down ship to the control panel.

“Ship,” You called, hoping it might respond. “Rod-Pod? If I say I’m Rodimus will you wake up please?”

The ship didn’t respond. You had hoped it might at least send out a warning or an error code or something, but it seemed completely destroyed. You didn’t even think there was any power left in it since the screen and lights were off.

You remained perfectly calm as you kicked at the ship’s entrance, taking a few goes before it broke open. You stumbled out into a desert comprised of fine white sand wherever you looked.

“Great, I couldn’t have landed in a city or near a town. No, I had to land on fucking Tatooine.”

‘Ugh,’ You thought dismally, ‘More like discount Tatooine. At least real Tatooine had some buildings…somewhere.’

Still, you were Cybertronian now. Maybe somewhere in your brain was instructions to repair the Rod-Pod. You looked at the crashed ship, noting for the first time that the exterior was on fire. There was no way in hell you were repairing that.

Trying to hold onto your previous sense of serenity, you thought about how Whirl had taught you to bring your optics online during your previous panic attack. If making a call was anything like that, maybe you could call Swerve. You hoped you could. Not only were you in need of rescue from the desert planet, you also needed him to know you were sorry, that you still loved him, and most importantly, that you would get back to him, no matter what.

“If Marlin the fish can get his son from a dentist in Sydney, I can do this. Uh, body, call Swerve,” You commanded.

Nothing happened.

“Please, call Swerve?”

You closed your optics and pictured your old communicator as well as Swerve’s face. ‘Please… I need him. Please don’t cut him out of my life.’

You grew both frustrated and upset when several more attempts at calling your husband didn’t work. What if it was the dent in your head causing interference? Or maybe you were too far away from Swerve for anything to happen? Was that possible? You had never thought to ask Swerve how his body worked; it had simply never come up in casual conversation. Suddenly a truly dreadful thought hit you. What if word of your departure had reached him already? He wouldn’t think you had left him, would he? He wasn’t the most stable bot at the best of times, and you knew the way his separation anxiety and fears of being inadequate could course him to self-destruct.

“CALL SWERVE!” You screamed at yourself, fearing for his well-being. “NOW! I- I need to know that he’s safe. Please…” You fell to your knees, crying and holding your head in your servos, “Please, call Swerve.”

Once again you were left with nothing but the deafening silence that surrounded you on the barren planet, but you weren’t ready to give up. At least, you thought you weren’t until you heard the rumbling of engines. Looking to the horizon, you saw five vehicles that looked like quad-bikes in the distance, the riders of which were hidden under white body armour.

Venting air through your systems in a manner that simultaneously soothed you and freaked you out, you decided to take a long walk away from the Rod-Pod. You had heard tales of the scavengers that lived on barren planets. They had probably been travelling since you crashed, hoping to steal whatever was left over from the ship. Yet, as you moved further to the left, so did the bikes. You continued moving further away from the Rod-Pod, but the bikes changed course to match yours. You prayed that they were coming to your aid, yet as they got closer, you saw the giant crossbows come up from the vehicles subspaces.

If you were still human you would have broken into a sweat. As a Cybertronian you couldn’t do that, but you still had your fight and flight response to work with. You ran. Every so often, you would risk a look behind you, hoping that you would be able to scan one of the vehicles and transform. As with your earlier attempts to call Swerve, nothing happened when you tried to transform. The only thing you did find from occasionally looking back was that the organics chasing you weren’t actually wearing white body armour; they were the armour, so to speak. You supposed it had to be some kind of exoskeleton, stretched over long bony limbs that stuck hideously outwards.

You kept on running, putting all the power in your new legs into fleeing the monstrous organics. What had started off as the Star Wars experience had quickly turned into a bad remake of Mad Max: Fury Road.

You wished that having a Cybertronian body could have been as easy as having a human body, but apparently without instructions or a mentor, you were useless. You couldn’t call for help, you couldn’t transform, and worst of all, you couldn’t outrun your hunters. That much became clear as you saw them gaining in your peripheral view. What you didn’t see was the two quadbikes behind you aiming their crossbows for your arms, though you soon felt it. Screaming in pain, you fell to your knees.

Although it was probably futile, you fought the waves of searing hot pain, forcing yourself back up and facing off against your eerily silent attackers. You pulled against the barbed hook in your left arm, trying to remove it. However, no amount of brute strength could save you from the electrical charge that both crossbow bolts emitted, coursing through your systems to temporarily shut them down. This time, when you fell to the ground, you didn’t get back up, and the raiders were free to claim you as their prize.

Chromedome pelted down the hallway, making his way to Swerve to tell him the partially good news. He couldn’t wait to see Swerve’s face when he told him that you hadn’t left him and it was only going to be a matter of tracking the Rod-Pod’s trajectory to find you and bring you home to him.

Without even bothering to knock, Chromedome burst into Swerve’s hab-suite, shocked to find Swerve holding a gun to his own helm. As quickly as he had entered the room, Chromedome wrestled Swerve to the table, which wasn’t too difficult considering how much smaller Swerve was compared to Chromedome.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” Chromedome yelled in a panic.

“GET OFF ME!” Swerve cried out in a mix of anger and pleading. “I NEED TO DO THIS!”

“NO, YOU DON’T. YOU NEED TO KNOW ABOUT (Y/N).”

“DON’T! Don’t Mention her name please,” Swerve voice fell to a whisper and he stopped struggling against Chromedome, though he still reached for the gun which was only a short way from his grasp. “I failed her, Chromedome. I failed her and she hates me. My wife… My wife hates me.”

Chromedome had been to the emotional prison that Swerve was trapped in many times before. He had lost count of the amount of times that he had visited relinquishment clinics on Cybertron, preparing for the day he might snuff out his own spark. He knew from those experiences that Swerve wouldn’t just believe him if he told the truth about you. Instead, Swerve would think it was all an elaborate lie to stop him from ending his life. That left Chromedome with the problem of what to do.

Without thinking about it, Chromedome held Swerve down more firmly, releasing his mnemosurgery needles from the tips of his fingers. He told himself he was doing this for Swerve. After all, he was only planning to remove the memories of your departure until Swerve was in a safe place for him to explain everything. If Rewind was there, he would have told Chromedome that he was only doing it for himself, and that mnemosurgery was both addictive and evil; Primus knew they had had the argument enough times in the past, but if Rewind wasn’t around to see it, then it didn’t matter if Chromedome fell back into old habits and performed one tiny memory rewrite, did it?

“What are you doing?” Swerve asked, feeling the panic rise inside him. He began struggling again, babbling as he did so, “Chromedome, did I hear a shunk? I distinctly heard a shunk. Was that your needles? You can’t rewrite my memories. I don’t deserve to live for what I’ve done. CHROMEDOME, I MEAN IT! DON’T YOU DARE CHANGE ME! DON’T YOU DARE!”

“Shhh,” Chromedome hushed the mini-bot in a tone that was supposed to be comforting but sounded only menacing to Swerve. “It’s all going to be all right. In a few minutes, it will all be over.”

There was a quiet knock at the door, followed by Rung’s soft voice, “Swerve, are you in there?”

Chromedome cursed and covered Swerve’s mouth. Seeing the needles that were to wipe his memories only made Swerve panic more, and he was afraid that he might purge his tanks, even if his mouth his covered.

Rung continued speaking, used to being met by the silence of his patients when they had been through something traumatic, “I was just finished with work today and I thought you might like some company.”

Throwing his head from side-to-side rapidly, Swerve managed to shake Chromedome’s servo loose, “HELP! HE’S GONNA RE-WRITE-”

Chromedome pushed Swerve’s helm into the table, and whispered in his audial-receptor, “I’m helping you, idiot.”

But it was too late for Chromedome, Rung had heard enough in that cry for help and had used his all-access pass to enter the hab-suite. He took everything in, made a note to work with Chromedome to save him from his mnemosurgery surgery addiction, and called security all in the space of under a minute. For now, Swerve was safe and alive, though Swerve knew it wouldn’t be long before his second attempt to journey to the afterspark.

You woke up in a metal cell and you didn’t have to touch the bars to know they were electrified; evidently, you new body had better hearing than your previous one, allowing you to hear the hum of a strong electrical current. You wondered whether you should call for a guard to see what they were going to do with you, but what was the point? You would probably find out soon enough anyway.

Sitting up in the corner of the cell, you examined the damage to your arms. You had always thought that Cybertronians didn’t feel much pain compared to humans, but evidently you were wrong. The only difference between the two species was how resilient Cybertronians were. Whoever your kidnappers were, they knew how to get past Cybertronian resistances.

You heaved a sigh and winced as you put your arms down. You thought about trying to call Swerve again but decided against it. He was probably trying to call you, and if he couldn’t do it then you had to be too far away.

‘Swerve…’ You thought of him and all the ways he made you happy. Being without him since the first time you were married only made you morose as you sat with nothing but the hum of the fence to keep you company.

This could be the last night of your life before it came to an untimely end. With that in mind, you thought of Swerve and started to sing.

“I'm sticking with you,

Cause I'm made out of glue.

Anything that you might do,

I'm gonna do too.”

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[himluv]

Devotion

Oof. This is my last one. And, uh... it hurts. Solavellan for Dragon 4ge Day, for the prompt “Endings”.

I’m sorry...

TW: Major Character Death

Also: This is my interpretation/expectations for where we’re headed as a ship. I’m going down with this ship y’all, and where I’m going, there won’t be enough tissues in the world to dry my tears. Buckle up.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to end. Why did his plans always veer so tragically far off course? He was meant to be the savior of Thedas, of Arlathan, of the People. He would right his wrongs and reset the course of history, restoring order and balance to a world impossibly off-kilter. He was meant to be the martyr, the sacrifice to atone for sins he had not foreseen.

But, yet again, his foresight proved faulty.

He knew the Inquisitor would find him. Knew there was nothing he could do to keep her from doing all she could to stop him. Despite it all, his proclamations, his obvious intent, his pleas that she leave him to his dark endeavors, she still believed she could win. She still believed she could convince him to abandon his purpose.

He just hadn’t realized the lengths to which she would go to save him. How could he? In all his years, the millennia spread out behind him was a tapestry of judgement, foolish pride, and betrayal. He could never have fathomed that someone could care for him with such depth, with a devotion so pure it proved reckless.

Fatal, even.

Her hand on his cheek pulled him from those thoughts. Her eyes, wide and wet with pain, anchored him in this terrible moment.

“Vhenan,” she said. The word struck him deep enough that he flinched. She rarely used the term, preferring to simply use his name. Now she said it with regret for all the times she didn’t. All the times she wouldn’t.

His arms tightened around her, pulling her closer against him as he rocked her. “What have I done?”

She shook her head, but it was a feeble gesture. She was losing strength quickly. “You don’t get credit for this one.” She smiled and it fractured into a wince. “You carry enough guilt without borrowing mine.”

“Riallan.” He stroked her hair, searching for words but all of them turned to ash in his mouth, weightless. Impotence, cloying and clinging, boiled up in him until his shock turned to anger. “That blow was meant for me.” He closed his eyes, unable to look into the vibrant green of hers any longer. “I could have withstood it.” He didn’t know if that was true, but it was far more likely that he would survive the attack than she would.

As ever, she saw through him. “Perhaps,” she said. Her voice grew frail, the words like glass on her lips. “But I could not withstand watching you die.” She shrugged and hissed with pain. Like it was so simple a thing, the decision to sacrifice herself in order to save him.

Around them, the Crossroads were a blur of chaos. The Agents of Fen’Harel fought against the remaining forces of the Inquisition, a stalling tactic on his part. A distraction on the part of the Inquisition. Busy the troops so that Riallan and her team could get close enough to stop him.

He supposed it had worked, though he hoped to every spirit in the Fade that this had not been her plan all along.

Throughout the Crossroads the Eluvians flared and roiled, the magic within them snapping and crackling, demanding release. He was so close. All he had to do was steal that gathered power, take it into himself and then step through the Veil and into the Fade. The Seal would be there, and behind it all the ‘Gods’ he’d locked away. The Eluvians’ power would eat him up, much like his mark had gnawed at the Inquisitor, but he would release it. Bring it all forth to bear on the Seal and release those Old Gods on the world. They would ravage and remake it, bloody and terrible and new.

The time had come. All his planning led to this moment. He simply had to go to the nearest Eluvian, put his hand to its glass, and absorb the magic. The fight was over. He had won. All he had to do was let go of his vhenan and finish what he had started.

Her hand was still on his cheek, her thumb brushing against his cheekbone to wipe at his tears. With what little breath she had left, his vhenan sang to him, her voice hitched and shaking.

“Melava inan enansal, ir su aravel tu elvaral u na emma abelas.”

It was not the first time he’d heard her sing. She’d done it often in the early mornings, soft and sweet in their tent when she thought he still slept. But, he had never heard this song before.

“In elgar sa vir mana, in tu setheneran din emma na.”

She might as well have written it for him alone. A fresh wave of grief rolled through him, washing away his anger and leaving him powerless. He could no sooner leave her now than he could have stopped Corypheus all those years ago.

“Tel’dan’latha, vhenan.” She brushed away his tears even as she shed her own. “Ame dirthem ane, var lath vir suledin.”

He nodded, and pressed his lips to her forehead. “And so it did.”

The blood blossomed crimson on the emerald fabric of her Keeper’s Robes, and though his strength had returned, it was spread too thin. He could not heal her with his power alone, not while the Eluvians seethed around them.

The Eluvians…

He blinked, surprised at his own sudden inspiration. He looked down at her, at the waxy pallid skin around her eyes, and the too red color of her lips. But, despite the feverish shine to her eyes, she still saw him. She hadn’t left him yet.

“You’re right, vhenan,” he said. The words poured from him, confessions he’d hidden from for too long. “I was wrong. Again. Still.” He shook his head. “I see that now.” He kissed her and he was surprised at the force with which she returned his affections. “I know what I have to do.”

“Solas?” Her eyes widened, panicked as he gently moved her off of his lap. “What are you doing?”

“Saving you. The only way I can.” He knelt over her and pressed a hand to her cheek. “Ar lath ma, vhenan. Never doubt that.”

She hissed in pain but nodded. “Ar lath ma, Solas. I never have.”

He smiled at that, and somewhere in the expression she saw his plan. By the time she called after him to stop, he had already strode away from her. He reached the Eluvian, tall and furious with glacial blue light boiling in the frame. All he had to do was put a single finger to it, and he would consume the magic that connected them.

It would be enough.

He pressed his palm to the pane and hundreds of magical mirrors fell silent simultaneously. The Eluvians glowed, but the roiling energy calmed once more. The sudden change brought the fighting to a halt as confused Inquisition Agents and his own forces turned to look at him. But he hardly noticed.

Solas’ entire awareness shrank to where his palm trembled on the Eluvian. He screamed, the sound shattering the unnatural calm, as impossible amounts of power flowed into him. It burned, like the fires of Elgar’nan himself, up his arm and into his chest, consuming and overwhelming his own well of magic. Then it froze, icy and sharp, at first blissfuly numb and then aching. Then lightning, crackling and shocking, explosive in his veins.

Every sort of magic the Evanuris had used, pooled together to forge the Eluvians in the early days of Arlathan roared through him, scorching and searing and sundering him from the inside out.

He expected it to fade once he’d absorbed it all. Instead the Eluvians just shut down, going dark and leaving the Crossroads lit by the pale, preternatural light of the Fade. The Eluvian he touched fell dormant and repulsed him with a shock so violent he was knocked to his knees.

Still no one moved.

He stood, blue smoke curling up from his skin as he turned to look at Riallan. She wasn’t moving, the stillness clenching at his heart. Was he too late?

His eyes glowed with power, the fury of the contained magical forces a hurricane within him. Every moment he held that power was agony, each step a unique misery, like a thousand giants were pulling him apart and crushing him at the same time.

But he took those faltering, torturous steps to fall on his knees beside her. Dimly he noticed she spoke to him, her lips barely moving, but he couldn’t hear her over the roar of energy that thrummed in his ears. He knew her well enough that he didn’t need to hear her words.

“It’s the only way, vhenan,” he said.

She winced away from him while around them soldiers and agents flinched and covered their ears. Even as the power ate away at him, he marveled at the fact his voice had rendered his foes useless, until her hand found his face. Her touch was a balm to the feverish heat of his skin, sweet relief that he leaned into.

“Forgive me,” he whispered. Her brow furrowed, her green eyes wide and frightened. Not for herself, but for him. Her adversary, Fen’Harel, the Dread Wolf. Solas.

Because in the end, that was who he was to her. In the end, it was her refusal to see him as anyone or anything else that saved Thedas.

He pressed his hands to her abdomen, ignoring the warm, sticky sensation of her robes. Though the magic clamored to be released, he only let a trickle pour through his fingers and into the Inquisitor’s failing body. He feared that too much at once would destroy her, just as surely as it was destroying him.

It was slow, excruciating work, holding the magic back and forcing it to do his will. The original plan had only called for him to gather the energy and then unleash it upon the Seal. This… this was harder.

He grit his teeth, fought to keep his hands steady, and still sweat beaded on his brow. But color returned to the Inquisitor’s cheeks and her breathing came easier beneath his palms. He watched as his vhenan revived at his efforts, and knew that the pain and struggle would be worth it. For once in his life, he’d managed to do something right.

He took a step back from her, putting distance between them, committing her shocked and relieved, face to his memories. Just in case he would still have them wherever his spirit would roam. It would be no small comfort to see her face, alive and proud and shining with love, for the rest of his eternity.

Then he released the remaining power of the Eluvians. First came the lightning, streaking through his blood and into the air, colliding back into mirrors across the Crossroads. Then the glacial cold, fogging his breath and threatening to bring him to his knees once more. Last came the fire, hot and burning like a sun behind his eyelids as the power soared back to its home. There was more screaming, his again, before he collapsed and the Crossroads burst into action.

“Solas!” Riallan’s arms caught him before he hit the hard ground. She sank down with him, her voice blessedly strong in his ears. Whole. Her hand on his face again, anchoring him as his focus dwindled. “Stay with me, vhenan,” she said. She cradled him, their roles suddenly reversed.

He smiled. “Say it again.” His voice was his own once more. The pain from a moment before was gone, and the nothingness that followed it was perfection. On some level he knew he should be concerned, but she was alive, holding him again, so he couldn’t quite manage it.

“Dorian! Help me!” She looked down at him, new tears filling her eyes. “Say what again? Vhenan?”

He nodded.

“I’ll never use your name again, if you’ll just stay with me, vhenan.”

He chuckled at that. He felt light, thin in her arms. There was no more guilt to weigh him down, and nothing hurt. For the first time since before he entered Uthenera Solas was at peace. It’d been so long he almost didn’t recognize the sensation.

Dorian appeared in his line of sight, the mage checking his vitals. He gave Riallan a confused look. “Nothing seems wrong.”

Because nothing was, Solas thought. He recalled her face at the moment she realized he’d healed her, brought her back from what should have been guaranteed death. That he chose her life over the rebirth of the world. How awed she’d looked. How pleased and scared and proud of him she’d been. When was the last time someone had been proud of him?

“Dirth ma, vhenan,” she said, calling him back to the present. “What’s happening?”

He had to think about it, which he noted should also be troubling. What was happening? Right, the Eluvians. “I used the gathered strength of the Evanuris to save you,” he said.

“The Eluvians?”

He nodded. “I was going to use it to release them and the Old Gods but,” he tried to adjust in her arms, but found he couldn’t move. That was concerning. He swallowed back the fear, for her sake. “You made me see.”

She glanced at Dorian, who shrugged. “See what, vhenan?”

“That, despite all my worst efforts, this world was better than anything I could have made.” He blinked, the numb nothingness turning to an uncomfortable chill. He was running out of time. “You cared more for this world than anyone in Arlathan ever did.” He swallowed at the emotion caught in his throat. “You cared more for me, as well.”

She bit back a sob. “But what’s happening to you?”

He cleared his throat, his voice going frail on his tongue. “The power is too much for any one being to contain. Even one such as me. There is a cost, one I am happy to pay.”

Her hand tightened around his, and he was glad he could still feel it. “The Eluvians took your power,” she said.

He smiled. “Clever, vhenan. Always so clever.”

“So, you’re mortal now?” Dorian asked.

Solas tried to shake his head, but couldn’t. “No,” he said. “It’s not like severing a connection to the Fade. My magic was sacrificed. Removed. Without it, my spirit cannot remain.”

His breath came shallow, his lungs failing as his body died around him. They were out of time.

“Vhenan,” he said. “Go to Skyhold. I sent,” he gasped, “a gift. Explains everything.” He gave her a shaky smile. “Just in case.”

She made a sound, somewhere between a laugh and a sob, and held him close. “Ar lath ma, vhenan,” she chanted, rocking him as he had rocked her only moments ago.

He looked up at her, unwilling and unable to look anywhere else. That her face would be the last thing he saw, he arms the last he felt, her voice and those words the last he ever heard soothed his soul.

The last thing Solas did was smile.

He did not die alone.

Elvhen Translations: Melava inan enansal  ir su aravel tu elvaral u na emma abelas in elgar sa vir mana in tu setheneran din emma na Time was once a blessing but long journeys are made longer when alone within. Take spirit from the long ago but do not dwell in lands no longer yours.  (From the Elvhen song “Suledin”) Tel’dan’latha, vhenan Do not grieve/weep, vhenan Ane dirthem ame, var lath vir suledin I told you, our love will endure/last/survive Ar lath ma I love you

Dirth ma Speak to/tell me (lit. Speak you)

[idk-my-aesthetic]

past, present, future

aka mal, evie, and carlos on magic, their parents, and the isle

this is actually a repost of this bc freaking tumblr deleted all my text when i tried to change on tag on the og post so i had to delete it bc it started glitching. sigh. 

*jay is getting his own fic which is why he’s not in this, more info below

***comment on the mal part i use a weird combo of the live action remake maleficent and the og one. Its like maleficent was still queen of the moors but she was actually evil and not all sympathetic like she is in the live action movies…. 

TW!!- obvious discussion of child abuse in semi-graphic detail for the majority of the fic, and a breif s*lf h*rm refrence. It's only a sentence or two long, a general ref/description ig, basically has to do w/ evie freaking out if ppl think she is ugly/a failure bc of her mom’s abuse. 

=========================================================================================

To Mal, magic was her blood. It was her history, her lineage. She was a fae, birthed to continue her mother’s legacy. Created to reclaim the throne her mother lost in her madness and cruelty, to conquer their lost land, to live up to the expectations put upon her at birth. Her magic was but an extension of that, her birthright, everything she was supposed to be, everything she would one day become. 

Using it was both terrifying, and liberating. She was evil, something she’d known for years, but she feared becoming like her mother. A fear she had admitted only once, whispered to three others in the dead of night. 

There was a difference in their evil. Her mother’s was unnecessary, powered by delusions of grandeur, random cruelty brought about for her own amusement. Mal saw her own evil as practical, an armor she would use to protect herself, and later her crew. She would use it to get them food, make enemies too afraid to attack them, keep them all as well and alive as she could. She could use her evil, and the fear it caused, to get whatever she wanted, whatever they needed. It gave her power.  

Evil was power. 

Power was safety. 

(Though, could you truly call a child seeking protection evil?)

She knew she would one day have to complete the tasks her mother set out for her, but she refused to do them like the woman herself would. She refused to turn to unneeded cruelty, to hurt those she cared for. She would reclaim their homeland on her own terms. 

She would be her own kind of evil, different from her mother’s, even if they used the same magic, read the same spellbook, had the same blood. She would burn her mother's legacy and build her own, build herself from the ashes and leave her mother behind as nothing more than a faded memory, forgotten in her daughter’s shadow. And she would rise from the beaten depths of the Isle, bringing those most important with her, and give them the lives they deserved. 

(That was her dream, fueled by Carlos’s invention and their new ability to steal magic from the barrier. To free them all, and give a better life to those she loved. It would come true, one day soon, different than she ever expected. Though she was right that she would reclaim her birthright on her own terms, those terms have nothing to do with the evil she now thinks she is.)

(She will learn she was never truly evil to begin with. She will make her magic truly her own, completely untainted by her mother’s wishes. She will reclaim the lost moors, and she will fill it with the love and light her mother destroyed, those she loves by her side.) 

-=+=-

To Evie, magic was a tool. She had no real feelings to it, like how a writer feels no fondness for pens, nor a painter for brushes. She used alchemy books to mix beauty products for her mother, keeping the old woman preoccupied with something else, allowing Evie precious moments of freedom from her mother’s “love”. The word was so mutated in the queen’s mind, as if her unending barrage of insults was the same as Mal’s soft smile, Carlos’s beautiful rambling, Jay’s protective arms. 

The best use for her magic was concocting healing brews, things she could give to her gang to save them even a bit of pain. A cream to clear the bruises on Carlos's chest, small packets for Jay to trade so he need not steal while injured, a bite of apple to save Mal’s life. Things to protect the three most important people in her life. 

(Though, she had a hidden use for these healing salves too. A secret mix to hide scars, to blend discolorations in with the rest of her skin. She used it only when she truly needed, the others would easily tell if every scar she once had disappeared. But, if she ended up bleeding in the middle of the night, scratching at her skin and sobbing because her mother was right she was so ugly and useless and worthless, and said scratches disappeared before morning, well, no one would ever need to know they ever existed.

Because, truly, what right did she have to complain? What gave her the right cry and sob because her mother said something cruel? The others had parents who beat them till they bled, how could her mother’s words ever compare? Even if her mother screamed until her voice was raw, even if she repeated that Evie was ugly and worthless until the girl could do nothing but believe it herself, even if she forced her to avoid even the small amounts of food they could scrounge up, weakinging her to the point of fainting, possibly death if the others hadn't shoved food in her hands and forced her to eat, as if hurting herself would make her more beautiful. 

Even if the Evil Queen, known for her own effortless beauty and even more effortless cruelty, hammered that lesson into the child’s head. That beauty is pain and the only way to have worth is to hurt and you must hurt to be loved, and if you are not in pain you are not beautiful you are not trying hard enough you are failing and they will all leave and you will be left with nothing but pain and your own ugliness.) 

So, Evie was thankful for her magic, thankful she could heal those she loved, and hide things that would hurt them. Thankful she could keep her mother’s suspicion away, when the old woman’s view shifted from seeing Evie as an extension of herself to seeing her daughter as a competitor, someone who was out to betray her and take her place. A gift could appease the woman, at least for a bit, reminding her that the child before her had hair too light, skin too dark, lips too pale to be the girl the queen despised. Not that the queen wouldn't try to change that, pushing the child to look more beautiful than the girl who bested her, then punishing the child for being more beautiful than herself. 

Her mother’s erraticy gave Evie some odd mix of both hatred and jealousy for her half sister. Her mother wanted her to be more beautiful than Snow White, going as far as to try and even bleach her daughter’s skin, forcing Evie to be the subject of dozens of ill advised experiments to make the girl “beautiful”. Evie hated her sister for the standard she set, for leaving her on the Isle, for their mother’s obsession. But she was desperately jealous of her, desperately wanted to be just as beautiful, partly so her mother would leave her be, but more so she would never lose the love she held so dear. 

She feared that more than all, more than death itself, losing those she loved. 

She’d heard tales of true love since birth, heard the idea scoffed at and hated. Told it was something for Aradon royalty, something she would never have, should never want. And yet, despite all that, despite the evil in her, the evil surrounding them, she had it. Had it with three incredible people she loved more than anything. But she knew she wasn't as beautiful as the princess in auradon, knew she wasn't as good as them. What if she lost it? What if the most important people in her life left, because she wasn't beautiful enough to be worthy of their love? 

(One day, she will learn that beauty is not worth. One day she will learn her three-turned-four lovers would never leave her, least of all over something so meaningless. She will learn that she is beautiful because she is kind, and that those who love her do so for her mind not her body. And she will learn that she need not live to please them, that they will always exist as pillars of support in her life, but she will be able to go and become her own person, do what she wishes without worrying if what she wants would make them dislike her, make them want to leave. She will be able to grow and heal with them, work with them to build a life for themselves and a safe world for the other children like them. One day she will speak with her sister, using the cup bought just for her, something she will have done a thousand times before. And she won’t be cured, the memories of her mother’s voice will always haunt her, but she will have people who love her back home, and wedding rings comfortably heavy on her fingers, and kids to pick up later from school, and the knowledge that the lost children of the Isle are free, and the memories will be pushed away with ease. 

One day she will use her magic to help her heal, not hide her pain. 

That future may be far away, too far for her to see where she is now, trapped on the Isle, believing lies about love and herself. But it exists, and it’s waiting for her.) 

-=+=-

To Carlos, his magic was inconsequential. As far as he was concerned, it didn’t exist. The only evidence of it was a flash of pain, quick, white hot burning in his chest when he pulled pure magic from his device on accident. And when he blinked the stars from his eyes, when he managed to pull breath into his lungs again, when he finally quelled the panic rising in his chest, he forced himself to ignore what had just happened. He made himself believe that the pain, the sudden surge of power, the overcoming sense of dread, was some kind of fluke, some byproduct of the barrier. Pure mortals must not handle magic well, he decided, and let the memory fade to the back of his mind. 

Because it was easier. It was easier to let himself believe that he had no magic, to deny the obvious in front of him. It was easier to ignore the instinctual feeling that this magic was his, that there was something darker about it, darker than the magic of the barrier or Mal’s spells. 

It was easier, because to accept it would be to face it. And to face it would mean he would have to use this magic, this magic that felt so instinctually wrong, yet so much his.

The magic felt evil, and even on this Isle of the forgotten, where evil was revealed in, evil was celebrated, he feared becoming evil himself. Because to him, there was very little true evil on the isle. The evil belonged to the adults, the ones banished for their actions. Jafar, Maleficent, the Evil Queen. His mother. 

The other children may see themselves as cruel and evil, but he saw the truth. They were neutral, survivors in this abandoned wasteland. Born with evil inside them, and countering it with enough good to turn their black hearts gray. Protecting each other, caring for others, helping in the backhanded way you only understood if you grew up in a world where kindness brought pain. 

And yet, despite the fact that any impartial party would tell you they were all the same, he saw himself as different from the rest. He could see the good they did, see them balance the scales to keep themselves from falling into evil. But no matter what he did, it never felt like enough. He felt as if he was teetering on the edge of a cliff, held up by nothing more than a fraying rope. And if he accepted this magic, it would slice straight through, sending him to his doom. 

(He was too close to see the good he did. His mother’s screaming of how he was so horrid to her, how he brought her so much pain, how much she wished he was a good son confused him. He saw himself as bad, and saw that as an easy descent into evil, an easy descent into becoming those who had hurt him and those he loved.) 

(He didn’t want to be evil, evil like Maleficent who would snap Mal’s bones with cold eyes. Evil like Jafar who’d beat Jay for bringing one to few things home. Evil like the Queen, who’d lie and scream and dim the brightness of Evie’s smile. Evil like his mother, who would hurt and hurt and hurt and never stop as long as it got her what she wanted, never feel remorse for the pain she brought.)

So he did with his magic what he did with his other problems, forget. Forcing them to the back of his mind, focusing on the immediate, focusing on surviving day to day. And you can’t blame him, not really. On the Isle every day is about making sure you live to your next, and that you can bring a handful of others with you. 

And it may not have been his fault, but in doing so, in pushing aside the pain it brought and forcing himself to forget, he created more problems for himself. Because his magic would not go away, same with how pretending his mother didn’t exist didn’t simply make her disappear. 

(One day, he will be forced to face this magic, to accept it as part of himself. It will bring him pain he doesn't deserve, but he will overcome it, four others by his side. He will realize that the evil he felt was nothing more than a reflection of his own fears, that he could never truly become evil. Because he didn’t want to be, won’t want to be, will never find joy in causing others pain. The things that will make him happy are bright days and small animals and unconventional dates and the laughter of children trying chocolate for the first time. 

He will realize he could never be evil, never turn into those who hurt him. Never become his mother. And he will face his other problems, the ones so buried he hadn't thought of them in years, and he will overcome those too.) 

-=+=-

im trash so i didn’t bother putting the italics in. it takes 20 minutes im sorry....

edit: i wnet back and added them uwu 

jay’s getting his own fic which is basically one of these^^ but longer w/ fully written scenes lol. and uhhhh idr what i put in my a/n before but this is related to my other works/part of a series so please check out my ao3 ily  https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Pluto

edit: so i felt like i needed to give more info ig?? i gave carlos magic bc im using it as a metaphor in my d1/d2/d3 rewrites, which uhhh part of are posted but not really the magic parts yet.... trust me for rn lol,,,, ty for reading!!! 

[dietaku]

Amazing Quest 1: Chapter 8

Here it is, the penultimate chapter. Only a little bit more!

Chapter 8: Collect-a-thon! Alright, team, ready to get all the items necessary for the best ending? Of course you are! The first and most important thing in this chapter is that we can get Hiro's ultimate weapon now. We actually need to go back to the small, otherwise-useless lake near Toruble Castle and you need to go noodling a few times and then sit and wait 5 real-world minutes. Go ahead and grab yourself a drink or a sammich or something. Hiro: Doo-doo-dee-doo~ Hm? Suddenly, the water in the lake glows and a lovely, buxom lady rises slowly from the light. Hiro: What the heck--?! Woman: Fear not, Hiro of the Pudding Tribe, I am Eroustei, goddess of light and mercy. Eroustei then presents two swords, one a glimmering gold color, and one with an ornate hilt and silvery blade. Eroustei: Did you drop this Sword of Power, or this Gold Blade? Hiro: But I didn't drop a sword. I have mine right here. Eroustei: … Let's try this again. Did you drop a sword that will grant you great might, or this sword that will bring you great fortune? Hiro: Oh, I don't need either of those. I have my friends. So long as I have them, then I don't need to rely on artifacts and legends to find my way. Eroustei: YOU BITCH!!! Eroustei very angrily winds up and hurls both swords at Hiro, who bash him with their hilts. Hiro: GYAAAAH! Hiro is knocked flat. Eroustei: YOU THINK IT'S EASY DOING THIS LADY IN THE LAKE THING, YOU INGRATE?! Hiro: Owww... Eroustei: YOU NEED TO THINK ABOUT OTHER PEOPLE'S FEELINGS, YA JERK! Eroustei drops back into the water and out of sight. Hiro gets: PdngSword and GoldSword! Hiro: Wh-what just happened...? Hiro's best sword is, obviously, the PdngSword which is a huge step up from any other weapon in the game for him. The GoldSword is, in itself, useless (Loyroll can equip it, but it's not terribly strong), but leads to our next quest! We have to find the little encampment to the south of ToneLand's island, which can be a little tricky to get to. But once we're there, we'll meet an old man. Old Man: Hey there! I'm the weapons maniac! I dedicate my life to things that cut others short! Haha! A little dark humor there! Hiro: That's pretty dark alrig-- Old Man: Hey, is that a sword made of gold?! M-may I please see it? Hiro: Sure. Not doing us any good anyway. The Old Man takes it, admiring it lovingly. Old Man: The sheen. The weight. The beauty... Loyroll: The inability to retain an edge? Old Man: I... I must have this! W-what if I traded you for something of equal value?! Hiro: Um. I guess... that's fine? The Old Man runs into his tent and returns, giving the party the TinFlStar, the strongest weapon for Kimaywa! Kimyawa: Yatta! Old Man: This weapon is deceptively powerful. Treasure it always! Hiro: Um. Well, one man's trash, I suppose... At this point, wander around and get into a fight with Kimyawa and Loyroll in the fray. Have Loyroll use the Mirror of Ki and you'll be treated to an amusing scene where Kimyawa's new weapon gets caught in the fire and all the enemies get incinerated. Kimyawa: Nii-chan! Baka! You nearly cooked us all! Loyroll: Even after all this time, this legendary artifact of our ancestors contains fabulous secret powers! Perhaps we could harness this more constructively? You've unlocked Kimyawa and Loyroll's strongest dual tech: Over-Arcing. This deals huge light-based damage to all enemies. And now it's time to revisit an old friend: you have been taking care of Stinky the Griffohump this whole game, right? Well, if you have, by now, he's likely evolved into his adolescent form, where his wings are more developed and his mismatched eyes have evened out. Once all his stats are over 500, which should happen around now-ish if you've been taking good care of him, he'll evolve into his adult form, where he actually resembles a majestic creature of myth and even has a Pudding Warrior Knot on the side of his head, like Hiro's. Hiro: Yes! I knew you had it in you! You were just like me – you just needed a guiding hand to help you out! At this point, the rancher from before walks up. Hiro: Have a look! It's all thanks to you! Rancher: Who'd have guessed you'd really do it? Well done. Hiro: The last of his kind, the proud Griffohump~! Rancher: Oh. Right. That. Yeah, no, he's not the last of his kind. Hiro: W-what? Does that mean... you found him a mate? Rancher: … Dude, Griffohumps are everywhere. They're overpopulated in most regions of the world where they live because nothing wants to eat them. People that try usually end up in the hospital from food poisoning and depression. Hiro: … Rancher: We tell people they're the last of their kind to give them some kind of marketing appeal. I'm genuinely amazed that you made something of him. So I guess the joke's on me. Hiro turns to Stinky as the rancher walks off. Hiro: You and me. We are more alike than you know, my friend. Now with Stinky fully grown, we can ride him around on the overworld map! This not only moves us faster and reduces the encounter rate, he can even fly short bursts when you get a running start, allowing you to clear mountains and get into areas previously inaccessible, including one north of the ocean of Mermania to get Mancala's ultimate weapon, the Abacus of Ages. But as no one uses Mancala, who cares? There's also a neat, but ultimately useless trick you can use because the game maintains Stinky's speed regardless of turns, so if you have him run back and forth over two spaces rapidly, you can cause him to fly anywhere at any time. This is dubbed by the fans as The Stinky Shuffle. Anyways, now it's time to address a particular plot thread that's been dangling since chapter 2. Return to Toruble and speak to the King. King: Siigh... Hiro: … King: Siii-iiigh... Ozma: … King: Siii-iii-iii-i-- Ozma: What's wrong, daddy? King: Oh! Ozma! When did you get here?! See, I've just been a little melancholic lately. Can't quite shake it. It's just been so quiet here in the castle without you running around randomly braining people. Ozma: I have never done such a thing!! … Recently. … in the past few months. King: I just wish I could shake these blues. I haven't been nearly so proactive in banishing people recently either! Hiro: So some good has come of this at least. Ozma: Seems that way... The party exits and fans out. Kimyawa: Dame desu. This is no good. A king can't rule his land like this. Moore: There must be some means by which to cheer him up. Loyroll: It seems more severe than just having a rainy day. Perhaps he is coming down with a bad cold? Ozma: There's a doctor we could ask for help from, I suppose. Let's go have a chat with him! So, now it's time to return to the Mountain of Outcasts. Thankfully, this time, the Dreaded Mountain Maze is in rubble due to Ozma's last temper tantrum here and we can take a shortcut through it and monsters no longer spawn here. Once on the other side, there seems to be quite a change: there's way fewer NPCs here than last time. Eh, probably not important. Go back to the doctor's house and Ozma will knock. You go, JeffCom, reuse those art assets for great justice! Ozma: Doc, it's me. Please open up. The door opens a small bit. Doctor: W-what do you want?! Oh. Princess Ozma. Ozma: Daddy's been really down in the dumps lately. Would you please come have a look at him? Doctor: That's... not really a very good idea. Reasons, you see. Valid reasons, mm, yes. Ozma: I... what? Please, I'll talk to him about overturning your banishment and-- Doctor: No, no, quite busy here, please, and thank you! He slams the door shut and there's a sound of many, many locks being slapped into place. Ozma: W-what...?! What's he trying to pull?! Why that! I'll turn this door to splinters!!! Ozma winds up and slams into the door. When she hits it, she's stopped cold and overblown, comedic tears rush down her face. Ozma: … G-gimmie a hand, please! Hiro: Right. Ozma: On the count of three. Ozma backs up a few paces and counts on her fingers with an accompanying “click” sound so the player knows when to go. If you mistime it, Ozma will back up and count again, signaling you when to go again. If you both hit the door at roughly the same time, your party will go plowing through it and enter into a cave-like bedroom. Ozma: Alright! Doctor, now you listen here-- eh? Hiro: No one's home? Ozma: He couldn't have gone far. C'mon, how deep could these caves go, anyway? Let's find him! There's a bed you can rest in and a save point here, which is a none-too-subtle hint that this is more than just a town. You venture deeper into the caves and monsters start appearing like Banished Munchkins, Outcast Ostriches, and Willow Whips, ghostly plant-like monsters. Most monsters here fear fire attacks, so Kimyawa and Loyroll are excellent choices. A few floors down, the caves change and suddenly have crystal structures laced in the walls, giving this place a weird sense of style. Around here, new monsters like the Crystallis Caterpillar, and Wind-Up Golems start appearing around here and despite looking very rock-like, they're weak to earth attacks. Go fig, right? A little further in and the caves are completely replaced by metal corridors and what looks like a lab setting. Ozma: W-what in the world is this...? Loyroll: This is no mere hide-a-way for the untouchables. Whatever is happening here is happening on a grand scale. You can then go forward, but the puzzles here get a bit dickish. There's one room where you have to rush into a library and sort out books via Dewey Decimal System in a very short span of time, otherwise the room resets due to “Radiation” as a nearby sign will say. After that, you play a minigame not unlike the board game operation, and failing at it causes the miniboss monster, Chimantera, to spawn an infinite number of times. At least, in the SNES release. In the GBA remake, it'll only spawn once and win or lose, the door to the next room opens. Here, you play hopscotch against a kangaroo to cross electrified floors. There's a reason fans of the series call this area “The Cut Content Dungeon” as there doesn't feel like there's a unifying theme here. But once you're past that, you can then go to the last area here, a massive, circular room with a large tube in the center of the room with a woman inside of it and the doctor standing before it. Ozma: Doc! What are you doing?! Doctor: Gah! H-how did you get here?! Ozma: We let ourselves in. What is this? What were all those weird things we passed to get here?! Doctor: N-now that you've seen this... my, you've really put me in a bind... Ozma: What is that...? Oh my God! Is that... my mom?! Party: Say whaaaaaaat?! Doctor: … Well, since you're here anyway and you're so damn curious, I'll enlighten you. Your father hired me to save your mother from her unfortunate condition. At first I thought it a fool's errand – to find a cure for Disney Parent Syndrome! Preposterous! But... as I began my work, I started making breakthroughs and discovering new things... things previously completely unknown to modern medicine. Curiosities in the genetic structures of what we once believed to be ordinary humans. “Golden Tribe” indeed, I must say. Ozma: What are you...?! Doctor: I don't suspect a silverback gorilla such as yourself could appreciate it, but I've been wanting to tell someone about these discoveries for such a long time and I'm about to kill your asses here and now... well, let's just call this two birds; one stone. Hiro: Ozma! Ozma: I'm fine... Doctor: You see, true humanity is no longer with us. They haven't been with us in eons!! The mitochondria here indicates that there was an extinction event of some magnitude. Deima: Cough-cough-hack! Doctor: And now, modern chimerism is nigh-omnipresent! Every tribe! Every person! It's just a matter of dose! Ozma: I don't get any of this! And what's any of that have to do with my MOM, you creep?! Doctor: As I thought, you don't appreciate the meanings of the truth I've discovered here... very well. Let us cut to the heart of the matter then, shall we? The King tasked me to save the Queen... and abandoned her. I was the only one there with her in her twilight years! I realized she was... perfect. Ozma: Oh God, please tell me this isn't going where I think it's going... Doctor: She had to be... preserved. By any means necessary. Ozma: Oh God, it is!!! Doctor: She was too beautiful. Too pure... Ozma: Oh God, I'm gonna barf... stop lusting after my dead mom, asshole!!! Doctor: Dead? Dear girl, she is not dead. She is alive and well and I was just putting in my finishing touches on her new, perfected chimeran body! Ozma: You... you what?! Doctor: Arise! Perfect Human-Chimera 01! The tube's glass slides upward into the ceiling as the green goop pours out. In the Japanese version, the nude woman falls flat before standing up and throwing up some of the green fluids. This was removed entirely in the international release and she was even given a white towel from out of nowhere she clearly did not have previously. Woman: Where... where am I? Ozma: M... mommy?! Woman: O... Ozma? Is that you? You're so tall now... And, um, buff! Like, um, damn. Doctor: Oh-ho-ho... her memory is perfectly in tact too. Seems the “donations” made by my fellows here on the mountain weren't spent in vain! Loyroll: Stand down, you dastard and know when you're defeated. To flail about helplessly is disgraceful. Doctor: You think I am helpless? I'll show you the fruits of my labors, such that even simpletons like yourselves can appreciate them! The Doctor runs to a control panel and messes with buttons. Hiro and Loyroll advance, but the Queen steps into their path. Hiro: Y-your majesty?! Loyroll: Heh. Truly, this is not the first time a naked woman threw herself at me. I'm just not interested. Queen: H-help! I can't control my body! Doctor: Haha! Yes! It's better than I could have dreamed my perfect woman, my perfect creation, and your perfectly beautiful demise! Hiro: You're sick! Doctor: Prepare to die! Ozma: No! Mom!! -Boss Fight!- PHC-01 LP: 70000 MP: 6000 This is a dangerous fight as her stats are not dissimilar to Ozma's, having very high physical stats with very low magical abilities. Equally so, Ozma cannot attack directly during this fight, as you get the unique message “Ozma can't bring herself to do it!” so she's either benched or on support during this battle. Oddly enough, if you invoke her double techs with another character, this circumvents this – so punching her mom is a “no-no” but slapping her with a fish is A-OK! Focus on Kimyawa's elemental abilities or have her and Loyroll use Over-Arcing, use any attack items you have (which are calculated vs. magic defense) and heal often as her physical blows are enough to drop the likes of Mancala in one blow. When her health dips below 25%, then you have to worry about her special attack, Chimeran Rage, which hits the entire party for physical, melee damage and runs the risk of reducing physical attack and defense stats in the party. If this happens, you must heal quickly or she'll just reduce you to paste. -Boss Fight!- Queen: Ah... something just snapped. Doctor: No! Dammit! Move! Move! Queen: I'm free. Ozma: Mommy! Queen: My Ozma. You've grown so strong. And you have such wonderful friends. I couldn't be more proud of you. Doctor: This is an unforeseen turn of events. I didn't think they could go toe-to-toe with Perfect Human-Chimera 01!!! Queen: And as for you... The Queen turns to face the Doctor. Doctor: Oh... shit. Queen: My name is NOT “Perfect Human-Chimera 01”! My name is Valerie Po Toruble, Queen of the proud nation of Toruble! And as its Queen, I must establish justice within the boundaries of my beloved nation! Submit yourself to the court and beg for mercy as your sins will be dredged up before the light of day! Hiro: Um. Wow. I better take notes... Ozma: Mommy!! You're so cool!!! Doctor: Very well, Plan B it is. The doctor messes with the control panel again. PA: Emergency! Self-destruct sequence is initialized. This entire mountain is about to be leveled to the ground in 60 seconds. Have a nice day! Hiro: Quick! Grab him! There's time! Queen: There isn't. You lot get out of here. I'll ensure the evil of this place never spreads beyond this God-forsaken mountain!!! Ozma: Mother! Queen: Ozma. As the Princess of this nation, you must never forget... your heart gets a vote, but your brain has veto authority. Tell your father you love him, dry your eyes, and continue on your journey. You are our beloved land's future! Ozma: Mommy! No! Not without-- Hiro and the others restrain Ozma and pull her out the door. Queen: That's right. Be a good girl and listen to your mother. The Queen turns around, then just puts her entire arm through the Doctor's body. Doctor: BARF!!! Queen: This is the way it should be. The past is in the past and the future, set free into tomorrow. Farewell. The screen whites out here. In the SNES version, the party is returned to the overworld without further delay, but there's an extended scene that cues in the GBA remake when the party enters Toruble again. The House Man we saw briefly before walks in through the ruins of the lab. House Man: My, my what a loud explosion that was... He moves around, exploring the ruined boss chamber. House Man: Hmm... his research was thousands of years behind my own... but I must admit, he had some good ideas. I could probably put these to some good use, even if it takes some time. House Man chuckles to himself, as he uncovers a charred remains of one body. House Man: But then again, I have all the time in the world~! The party returns to the throne room of Toruble. Ozma: Daddy, I-- King: Oh-ho! Ozma! How good to see you! Ozma: Huh? Daddy?! King: I don't know why, but... it seems that funk I was in has been lifted from my shoulders! I'm ready and chipper and ready to start some banishing! Ozma: Ugh. Father... King: Oh, before I forget! The King goes to Ozma and gives her the Queen's Knuckles. Ozma: What on Earth? King: These were your mother's. I found them while taking my little trip down memory lane. I'm sure she'd want you to have them! Ozma: … King: What's the matter, dear? I thought you'd be happy! Ozma: I... I am. I have great friends and my whole future before me. I love you, daddy, but my travels aren't over just yet. See you soon! King: Do your best! Now Ozma has her ultimate weapon and unlocks her final attack “Regal Rampage” where Ozma bequeaths royal beatdowns, which hits six times and runs the chance of lowering one corresponding stat with each blow! Hiro: Your mother had a set of custom brass knuckles? Ozma: Yes, why? Hiro: No reason... And now, the only character without their ultimate weapon is Moore. At this point, we need to return to Moore's hometown and they'll mention a “legendary weapon of the miners” had recently surfaced and that a weapon's expert had it. So that's your cue to return to the weapon maniac from before. Old Man: Oh, hello. Here to discuss weapons? Hiro: Sort-of. We're looking for the legendary weapon of the miners. Deima: If this just ends up something dumb like a shovel, prepare for pain, old-timer. Old Man: No, no! Not a shovel! Much more sophisticated than a shovel! Moore: W-what? What is it? Please, tell us! I'd do ANYTHING to be not be rock-bottom tier in this game! All: … Moore: It's never going to happen, is it? Hiro: A-hem. Show us the weapon. Old Man: Can do! Got: Rusty piece of crap! Deima: Okay, so clearly, you want to die... Old Man: Eep! I just dug it up! If you want to see its true power, you'll have to go see the Old Lady Weapon Maniac! Deima: There's another one of you?! Old Man: Just head east from here! You'll find her there! Well, this is just a damnable lie. You need to go WEST from here to find the small hut in the middle of an island that's otherwise quite easy to overlook. Going east is useless as that section of the map is impassable. When you go there. Old Lady: Good morning! Are you here to ask about my weapons collection? I do love weapons! Moore: Sort of! This is... Old Lady: Ah, yes, the legendary weapon of the miners, unrivaled in their tribe as the pinnacle of design and form. Moore: So it can be repaired? Old Lady: Yes, yes! But I'll need the POLISH. Hiro: Special polish? Old Lady: Yes, but you're saying it wrong. It's POLISH. Hiro: Of course it is. Moore: Where do we find it? Old Lady: A merchant in Mermania has some! Mancala: Sounds simple enough. Let's go. So head to Mermania and speak to the merchant guild merman. Moore: So we're looking for the, uh, POLISH. Did I say that right? Guildmaster: Well, you're too late. I just sold the only POLISH I had to a man in Toruble! Hiro: Is this weapon really that great? Moore: It must be! It's the very best weapon of my people! Deima: Yes, God forbid we overlook the tallest of the dwarves. So head to Toruble! There, we find a wealthy looking fellow. Merchant: Oh? You want this POLISH? It cost me quite a lot! Moore: You don't understand, it's a matter of pride... Merchant: Hmm... okay! I'll give it to you! Moore: You will?! Merchant: But first-- All: ugh! Merchant: Bring me a Lucky Rabbit's Foot! Moore: Just... a rabbit foot? Merchant: No, ding-dong, the LUCKY RABBIT'S foot. The Lucky Rabbit only lives on Mushroom Island. Moore: That doesn't sound so hard. Let's go guys! So now, you need to head north-east-ish until you find a newly-made bridge and cross over to the previously-inaccessible island. There, you'll enter a cave and see a large, white rabbit sitting in front of many, many mushrooms with different spot patterns. Rabbit: What-ho! Welcome to the sacred ground of the Rabbit Clan! How can I help you? Moore: um. I am of the miner clan. I wish to request you for, uh, a Lucky Rabbit's Foot. Rabbit: That's all? That's not really a problem, but would you mind doing something for me first? Deima: HISS!!! Rabbit: Go to the top of the hill here and find me a mushroom that looks like... this! The rabbit places down a mushroom with a particular spot pattern. What pattern this is varies in each playthru. You then head up the mountain dealing with Mushkins, Hedgeshrooms, and Ecobandits, all of which can inflict poison. At the top of one of the four staircases are sets of mushrooms, so one of the 12 mushrooms up here is the one that matches Lucky Rabbit's request. Take it back to him. If you bring the wrong one, he'll scold you for being “dumber than a miner” and show you the one he's after once again and you'll return. Once you get it right, he'll speak to you again. Rabbit: Oh, frabjuous day! Here you go! Obtained: Lucky Rabbit's Ruler. Hiro: What? But this is a ruler and-- oh. Wait. I get it. Lucky Rabbit's... foot. Moore: Let's go guys! You then return to Toruble and speak to the merchant. Merchant: Excellent! Just what I needed! Hiro: Odd, I thought you wanted a, y'know, like a foot-foot. Like the Rabbit's actual hind-quarters leg. Merchant: Eww. You're weird. And gross. Here, take the POLISH and get outta here, ya weirdos. Hiro: Grumble... Then head to the Old Weapon Lady. Old Lady: Awright! Now I'll apply the POLISH and... there! Moore: Is it ready?! Old Lady: Almost! Head back to the Old Weapon Man and he should apply the finishing touches. All: Ugh! Moore: C'mon, guys! For all this work we're putting in, this weapon is going to be the best! So return to the Old Weapon Man. Old Man: Why, you lot have been busy. Now, let me just use my RUST REMOVER here and it'll be ready before you can say “Done”! And... Do-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooone! Got: Pickax! Moore: Of course!! Where a shovel fails, the Pickax prevails! All: … Deima: That tears it, everyone dies. Moore: But-- Deima thrusts her hand skyward and the Old Man's tent is blown away. Old Man: Oh noooooo! Moore: Cough. Cough. W-well, on the bright side I got my best weapon in the ga-- wait, does this mean I only HAVE two weapons in this WHOLE GAME?! Hiro: … The Pickax is... a little better than his shovel, I guess? But now that we have all the legendary weapons, we can finally go to that random forest in the north stretch of the game, with the healing spring in it. When we go to heal in it this time, Hiro and the party just jump into it. You'll then follow a spiral staircase downward until you reach a Pudding Shrine at the bottom. “But wait!” I hear some of you call out, “How the hell were we supposed to know about this?!” All I can say is: Player's Guide Sales! Go inside and Hiro will pull away from the party. Hiro: The final shrine... A small, strange, hairy creature appears before him. Hiro: Um. Lulz: Greetings, Hiro. I am Lul Invictus, but you can call me Lulz for short. Hiro: Very short. Lulz: Oh, the wit. Never heard THAT one before! You do remember my voice, do you not? Hiro: Um... Wait... you were the one who spoke to me when my powers first awoke! Lulz: Indeed so. Your journey is nearing completion, Hiro. You will need the fullest extent of your abilities now. Do you know what I mean by that? Hiro: Yes! My friends! Lulz: Indeed! You've learned much! I now release the limitations on your abilities and bless you with the mighty power of the Final Swirl Flavor Fusion! Hiro glows brightly. Hiro: Thank you, Lulz. Lulz: Fare thee well. And remember: Pudding is meant to be enjoyed! Not contained! Keep those snack packs a popping! Hiro: The more you speak, the less I understand. But I'll do my best despite that. Hiro returns to the others, draws out his sword and poses. Hiro: Do that which is right, live your life for others, and never, ever give up! That is the oath of the Light Puddings! Ozma: Heart~! Kimyawa: Sugoi, Hiro-ni-chan! Loyroll: Well said, friend! Deima: Heh. Hot. Moore: Mm! Mancala: Ooo, we should copyright that phrase and make mint after the war's over! And with that, the last optional quest is finished and we're ready to get us the best ending of the game! It's time to enter the next chapter, with our heads held high!

[mrslittletall]

So, it’s New Year’s Eve and let’s recap the year. But because I am a gamer, let’s recap the year from the perspective of a gamer.

For me, the year 2017 started with the last and final DLC to the Binding of Isaac Rebirth. The Binding of Isaac Aferbirth +. I was pretty excited about this, cause we were given mods now and I looked forward to try all this great stuff out that other people came up with. But then there was the bummer... initially, all mods blocked unlocks, so using them was blocking your progress. Yikes! But that wasn’t the worst thing, the game got so heavenly imbalanced, that I started to hate it. I am not an inexperienced player. I clocked around 500 hours in that game and got totally overrun by the portal spawns and the new bosses who telegraphed their attacks only in a fraction of a second. The DLC got ton of negative rewiews and I could understand why.  Luckily, it all got sorted out. The enemies are balanced and mods don’t block unlocks anymore. With this, I could get my greatest achievements... Boss Rush and Hush with The Lost and The Keeper! I was so glad when this was done! Yay! Well... in March the Nintendo Switch came out. My husband bought it right off the bat and added BotW in the mix. I played BotW a bit... but at first, I really hated it. I must admit, I pretty much hated Open World Games at that moment, cause they were EVERYWHERE! And Zelda always was an Action Adventure for me, a dying out genre and I didn’t want to see it become another generic Open World Game. And BotW was just that. I found it bland and boring and far too difficult in the beginning. So at first I really hadn’t fun with that. Fast forward two weeks... my husband got me a NES Mini for my birthday. On this, there was the first Zelda. I played that a bit for the good old time and realized something... BotW is kinda... a remake of the first Zelda! I took a deep breath, started the game again, said to myself: “This isn’ OoT or Twilight Princess, this is the first Zelda.” and played it again. And then the magic unfolded. I seemed to have finally understand what BotW wants to be and could enjoy it for that. I still don’t understand all the praise, cause the game has too much flaws in my opinion.  Because of how non linear and not story driven it is, it is my game that I play when I have some time on my hands and just go... explore. Especially the rafting on rivers and lakes and the sea is fun for me. I really managed to amaze my husband cause I am able to steer the raft so well. What did I do in the summer? The summer is always a scarce months for gamers. I am pretty sure, I was pretty much playing mostly WoW cause I wanted to level my Twinks via Legion invasions and also tried out Harvest Moon Skytree Village. Hm, Lost Valley 1.5 basically. Still managed to had fun with it.  The summer was also the point, where I regularly talked to a new person who wrote me because of my Isaac love. I regularly told him about how my Lost and Keeper Runs are going. He seemed to pick up that I liked a challenge, cause he started to talk about Dark Souls frequently. He also picked up that I loved video game music and showed me some songs of the game. He always tried to bring me to try it, but it was summer, I live in a hot part of germany and can’t take heat very well, so I was like: “I play it when it’s cooler.” Yes and then it was september and it was a lot cooler and I was like “Well, I made a promise.” I installed the game and started it. And got my ass kicked by the Asylum Demon. I was like “Jeez, the game is hard, but that is ridiculous.” I logged off the game and complained to my coach that this is plain unfair. At the same time, I was like “Oh... you were supposed to run away, right?” And that was it... And it turned out to be a blast. As you know, I am still at it and I won’t play it through this year, but next year for sure. I really have to thank my coach to being so persistent and talking me into it. Hmm... what happened next? I got a SNES Mini. Me and my husband were content to get one ASAP. I remember that I got to our local store a day for release and saw them in a box. I told my husband. He can go later to work as I and he managed to go there right as the store opened and got one. The best thing about the SNES Mini was... now I could play through Earthbound on something that looked like an SNES. Sadly, the game was never released in Europe outside of Virtual Console. That was a good feeling.  Around this time, me and my husband also got Cuphead. Another challenging, but fair game. But sadly, playing it in coop meant, my husband had to to all the work, making me feel useless. He is much better than I am and learns faster. He assured me time and time again, that I was still help. I normally made it to the first two phases of the bosses before I died for good. But still. I often wished we had more similar learn curves.  Hmmm... the last thing I have to say... Story of Seasons Trio of Towns and Pokémon Ultra Moon. These games I buy always at release as a huge time fan. SoS 3oT is truly a good game with an adorable cast of characters. It is always a joy to visit the three towns and it is nice to have some things you can put work into and it feels rewarding.  Pokémon Ultra Moon is the special edition of Moon. They clearly upped up the difficulty a bit, changed the story a bit and added more Pokémon to catch! That could be a blast to Nuzlocke, but also being really really difficult. Lots of people at my Pokémon board are dreading the Necrozma fight (I don’t know if that is also its english name). Well, the year ends now. Let’s see what the next year has in stock for gamers. I am having high hopes into the Switch. It also released so much games in 2017 I still have to play.

[sidemission]

What I’ve Learned after Playing 100 Hours of The Evil Within

The Evil Within was one of the most disappointing games I have ever played. And yet, the hours I've spent with it speak otherwise.

Five of those missing hours is probably the dream I had of it one time.

Why would I revisit a game I don't like very much? How could something like this make me invest more time in it than something I enjoyed more, such as Alien: Isolation?

I'll be honest, a lot of blame can be placed on my expectations when a video feature about the making of the game surfaced a year before its release. It covers Shinji Mikami's new studio, Tango Gameworks, and how they wanted to make a game that hearkens back to the days when the survival horror label had strict definitions: a vulnerable player character, scarce weapons and ammunition, and a lion's share of enemies meant to be avoided rather than overcome. Throw in some backtracking while we're at it.

The Evil Within never follows through on any of those. It opts to have such a scattershot design to a horror aesthetic rather than creating a genuinely engrossing experience. For a game that's been touted as a return to the survival roots of the early Playstation years, the final result is just another title that fell victim to the epidemic of action games being given a horror paint job, barely keeping the genre alive.

Needless to say, when I loaded up The Evil Within for the first time and expected a restrained approach to horror, in contrast to the bombastic Dead Space series and the recent Resident Evil entries at the time, some of the blame can be put on me for expecting subtlety from Shinji Mikami.

A storytelling mastermind.

The game started promising enough in its intro where the main character, Sebastian Castellanos, limps away from a chainsaw maniac in the eerie, blood-spattered basement of a mental hospital. After the game's title dropped, my impressions were high but I had to put it down until the PC version was in more of a stable state. Unrelated note, id Tech 5 may not have been the wisest choice engine for this game, as it did not play well with most systems at the time with it streaming texture and lighting from the game files and inherent hate for anything resembling an AMD video card.

For some people, the real horror began here.

I picked The Evil Within up again one week later and, not a single minute into my continuation after the prologue, I could pinpoint the exact moment I was going to be in for anything but a decent horror experience.

One wacky city destruction escape cutscene in an ambulance later, all pretense that this game may have been the saving grace for the survival horror genre went straight out the window. And that was my first of many, many hours with The Evil Within.

“How? How can you keep playing something you don't like?” you might be asking.

Well, every so often, I take a tour through the game again to remind myself of the potential of what it could have been. Some chapters have their quiet moments, you shuffling through the darkness, dreading that something is out to get you. On the flip side, every other chapter locks you in an encounter with enemies and not letting you leave until they've all been dealt with, like a wink to Resident Evil 4, its spiritual predecessor. These shifts between two different play types is always so jarring that it becomes clear that the developers didn't know what kind of game to settle on.

It wavers back and forth so often that it's easy to see where its strengths lie. At its best, it gives you a variety of tools and a decent amount of downtime to have a plan of attack against a hoard of monstrosities. There's an early chapter where you have to clear out a small village of not-zombies in order to continue on. It gives you a copious amount of paths to take, complete with small back alleys and verticality, each with their own set of enemies and traps to deal with. Then it finishes on a bang by throwing the same chainsaw maniac from earlier.

This guy, I think.

The entire level is not dissimilar to Mikami's previous Resident Evil 4 opening with the village of crazies, where this dials back the pace and makes you more vulnerable, despite having a wider array of weaponry early on. However, this level is not indicative of the entire Evil Within experience. If there's anything that Mikami likes, it's having a variety of encounters that spices up the core gameplay.

It worked extremely well with Resident Evil 4, but it just doesn't with The Evil Within. At all.

Part of the reason the latter game pales in comparison to its spiritual predecessor becomes apparent when you have the controller in your hands. Sebastian, despite being able to walk and aim with a gun, feels a lot clunkier to control next to the snarky agent who could only run in one direction and take potshots.

There's just no coming back from this.

One could dismiss the controls as a way to make the player uneasy and incite tension when faced with danger, since Mikami has deservedly mastered the art of getting a person to shout “Oh crap!” several times per game, but The Evil Within has a bad habit of throwing unfair scenarios at the player.

The Agony Bow, with all its versatile and multi-functioning bolts, should be the game's perfect weapon. You can change its ammo types with the press of a button and find the right bolt for the situation. A long line of enemies? Lob a normal bolt at the one in front to send it flying and knocking the others down. Goading enemies into chasing you? Shoot an explosive bolt trap in their path and watch the fireworks. A bullet-spongy boss creeping towards you? Switch from the electricity bolt, because it's completely useless, and instead use the freeze bolt to get some shots in.

As interesting as it is to experiment with all the bolts on different enemies, I could never shake the thought that the Agony Bow was from a completely different game, as if it just dropped from the heavens into Sebastian's hands. It's also a circumstantial weapon. The bolts rarely litter the environment when the game feels like giving you an ammo type, so you depend on making them from scrap you find disarming traps.

The problem with crafting the bolts from scrap, however, are the requirements for making different bolt types. Why would I craft a flash bolt to blind an enemy so that I could then stab them to death when I could craft a normal bolt for the same amount of scrap and one shot them? Even if I use the flash bolt on a group of enemies, the only way to get the stab prompt to show up is ducking in front of them, so it always looks like Sebastian's performing some ceremonial bow to each enemy before taking their life. Apart from dealing with hoards, there's almost no situation where you'll fight a single enemy where a gun with a well-placed shot wouldn't solve the problem.

Speaking of, the gunplay is also really wonky. The windup between Sebastian having a gun at his side and having the camera over his shoulder feels super sluggish to the point that any time a zombie man feels the need to give out free hugs was always undeserved. There's also the fact that all the animations are steeped in physics and player position, so enemies that go in for a close-range attack always dart to the left of where you're aiming your gun, AT YOU, which makes the majority of your missed shots at the right of where your enemy was in the entire run of the game.

But you know what? All of those flaws could have been overlooked, had the game had fair encounter design. As it stands, The Evil Within is one of the most unforgiving, single-player horror games out there, but not for the right reasons.

I've mentioned earlier that Shinji Mikami craves tense moments as the crux of his games, at rare times being more of a detriment than a service to the overall package. If you want a crash course in how to design a game around butt-clenching moments, look no further than Mikami's entire body of work. The original Resident Evil, as well as the fantastic remake, steeped themselves in ammo conservation and pop and shot combat. The later Resident Evil 4 threw in managing hoards as well as the occasional one-hit kill enemies. The brawler God Hand didn't allow you to block, and rewarded good performance with higher difficulties. Even the previous Vanquish encouraged you to throw yourself into danger often, pushing the limits of the in-game combat suit to its full potential.

This is peak video games and I won't hear otherwise.

The Evil Within, on the other hand, never actually has any new takes on invoking player tension. Strangely, it opts to have a sort of “all of the above” approach, like if the director tried to stamp a signature style to let players know what sort of experience they were in for. Certain enemies, traps, bosses, and even scripted moments have instant game-overs attached to them, but none of them are consistently telegraphed to the player.

Take the Sadist from the intro chapter as an example: any swipe from his chainsaw will result in a one-hit kill. Fair enough. This is the beginning of the game and it's trying to tell you to keep your distance. Two chapters later you face the same enemy, but attack swipes, indistinguishable from the ones at the beginning, only take off a chunk of your health on top of retaining the insta-death ones, rendering any presumptions you had about it having consistent attacking patterns completely moot.

The multi-limbed and bloody Laura, a later boss, has an overly long death animation to dish out to Sebastian, that seeing it more than once only serves to waste the player's time. I thank the high heavens that you can pause the game and restart the encounter the moment it hits. Laura can saunter, teleport, or even rush at you, but her grab attack is always the follow-up to those when she closes the distance. I got hit by a mini swipe that I didn't even know existed one time in all the hours I spent with the game, and I never came out of it knowing how I managed to get her to shave off a sliver of Sebastian's health.

Then there's the Keeper, otherwise known as the guy with the safe on his head. Your first face-off with him makes it clear that he can't be defeated, as he always respawns from a series of safes littered across the ground. A much, much later encounter with him in a meat locker reinforces to the player to escape at the first opportunity. Third time's the charm, you're suddenly able to unload everything you have into him in order to progress in the final encounter. At no point does the game indicate that an undefeatable boss is now just a bullet sponge, making the reward of overcoming a tough foe feel more stifling than satisfactory.

Locked inside: the design docs for a better game.

Because it throws in a hodgepodge of tense, situational encounters, the game never has an identity of its own. Perhaps The Evil Within's greatest sin is that it never follows its own rules. Much like the final Keeper fight, it trades in any sort of sense that it accrues consistent patterns in favor of doing anything it can to keep the player on edge. The resulting game just feels like a compilation of times where the player would shout “Okay, how the hell did I deserve that death?!” at the screen.

When the final boss rolled up and put the player in a series of on-rail shooting sections to mow down the twisted Ruvik monstrosity, the game abandoned its own proclamation that it was meant to revitalize the downtrodden survival horror genre.

cursed image

So now we loop back to my original question: why would I subject about four days of my life to a game I think is bad?

The thing is, The Evil Within swaps between having a grand old time in Survival Horror Land, like Resident Evil 4 did ages ago, and keeping the overarching story under wraps in Psychological Horror Land, somewhat like Silent Hill did. It tries to have its cake and eat it by throwing every horror trope in the book into a giant pile that never forms a cohesive whole, so any semblance of a plot never feels fulfilled.

The Evil Within is so interestingly bad that I feel like I need to play through it multiple times to make sure it's real and not some fever dream made manifest.

But hey, it managed to do well enough for a sequel, so it has that going for it. Maybe the franchise can show a little restraint and discipline in its core design when  The Evil Within 2 drops next month. Hopefully, the tech will have advanced to the point where an ambitious game can finally get away with... hang on a second...

Source: http://www.relyonhorror.com/latest-news/evil-within-2-powered-modified-idtech-stem-engine/

Oh nooooooooooooo!