wildestlogs | MEMORY SHARE ※ 1

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MEMORY SHARE ※ 1

MEMORY SHARE

It's during a pause in their day. A nap. An idle moment looking out from the gardens at the landscape passing by below. Taking a moment to catch their breath after a jog in one of the castle's larger magic rooms.

The squad is suddenly connected. Mental pathways locking together, they're forced into one another's innermost beings. Thrust into one another's memory palaces where the mind collects and stores everything that makes them who they are. The core of their beings are only a few steps away and no one can prevent the link.

To make matters worse, it comes with no explanation or no ability to pull out and stop. Once they're through the first memory, perhaps they can find a way out, but they're already witnessing some event from their host's past. And, if they left, who knows whether or not they'd end up accidentally invading another memory palace?

And if they were there, who was in theirs?

[ooc: So, how this works: the memories can either be viewed in spectator mode or the guest can be experiencing everything themselves. The person whose memories are being shown, the host, can watch as their current self or take the form they had of their past self. They can also be invisible until the memory is finished. They can talk about the memory with the "guest" that's visiting.

They cannot control the first memory shown, the player decides that, but they can sometimes control any other memories they'd like to show people after. Of course, there's also always the option of an extreme emotional reaction bringing up other memories unbidden.]

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

With the caveat that Slayride happen after Dick’s decision to out them a little.

Edited 2022-03-31 02:15 (UTC)

An SUV stops at the end of an alley on a dark, snowy night. The unseen driver calls for Robin, offers an escape. Any port in a storm, right? A figure in red and black and yellow - Robin - lunges for the car, and the memory's perspective swings wildly with the dive. From the floor of the SUV, he looks up to see the Joker in the driver’s seat.

Something looking like a green cloud of perfume is shot in the teen's face. That horrible smiling clownface stares intently, with a visual weight that lets it dominate the image as the memory fades out with Tim's consciousness.

"Voices singin' let's be jolly!" The memory starts up again with sound only, with the scene coming back into focus slowly. If the song wasn't enough to make you run for the hills, that voice like Rodney Dangerfield doing Caligula would make you consider sacrificing your hearing as a life choice. Blobs of bright light resolve into a battery-operated strand of Christmas lights. Along with industrial tape and the seatbelt, they're used to truss Robin up like a Christmas roast. A mercury glass ornament is serving as the apple - taped into place, of course, so the only way to talk would be to let the glass rip his mouth and tongue to shreds.

The clown talks to him like they're old friends. As if he's not tied up and being held in a stinking hot SUV - literally stinking, it smells like rotten meat in this sauna. Joker offers a truce, saying that he's going to let Robin go. The kind words don't relax Tim, and the 92 degree heat of the SUV doesn't seem to be effecting Joker's white skin at all.

"A little present from me to you," he says as the SUV plows into an old man crossing the street. The real danger is now apparent, and Robin finally reacts under the mask when the man hits the hood.

But then, it immediately escalates. The first time a comedian tells a shocking joke to the audience, they'll repeat the punchline to make sure everyone's laughing. Joker feigns concern and backs up the car to help the man. Tim flinches as he feels the SUV shake as the wheels run over the man's body.

"See if he's okay, willya?" The white-out lenses don't hide how much Robin wants to refuse, but Joker's hand is on his injured shoulder. He turns, and the perspective swings again. A couple sit dead in the backseat, half-buried in Christmas presents, wearing matching Joker grins and eyes wide open. Their faces are still wet with tears.

That's how the comedian de-escalates any negative reception to risque joke. Hit the audience with something even more audacious.

When the audience feels safe, that's when the comedian will return to the joke. Joker calls in the hit and run himself. While "distracted" on the phone, he hits a second victim. A young woman. He updates the call with the new accident's location at Tim's heard mumbling into the ornament gag, "Son of a bitch".

For the first time, the smile falls off the Joker's face, and that is a face that will haunt nightmares. He's furious that Robin isn't playing by his rules. There's likely nothing Tim could have done to avoid angering the clown, in reality. There are no rules. The SUV jumps the curb turning a corner, hitting at least 3 more pedestrians - it feels retaliatory. Be careful about whiplash; Joker's moved onto talking about fast food.

Extremely sharp eyes may notice Robin's bound hands doing something behind his back.

The SUV quickly finds a McDonald's ripoff and pulls into the drivethrough. Joker fires off a complex order without pausing for the employee to catch up. He guns it up to the window instead, berating the teen girl and demanding to speak to her manager. Who he shoots in the head.

Robin's still tense, but his expression hasn't changed. He's hating Joker more with every second, but the mask and the gag help with that. You can't let the Joker see your fear. That's when he gets bored.

The motion behind his back hasn't fully stopped, either, but it's the tiniest little twitches. Timed to the SUV's movement, too.

The smile's back in full force as the clown takes a toy car out of Robin's hands. Just a prank, he says, to instill false hope. "Like that line I fed you about letting you go."

If it were possible to look crazy, it's the way he's looking at Tim now. The exact expression a starving fisherman who's just speared a catfish.

The gag is ripped off in one rough pull. Something of a Christmas miracle that the ornament doesn't shatter. Joker wants another Robin to beg for his life. "How about it, Boy Wonder? Tell me your Christmas wish, as if I couldn't guess."

Robin says nothing. He's been trained to not engage the Joker as much as possible, and he knows you have to keep him interested to keep him from just shooting you in the head. If he begs for his life, that's his swan song. If he's quiet, then Joker hasn't broken him yet. He's still interesting.

But Joker's spotted something in the distance - a bunch of kids sitting on Santa's lap at an outdoor Santa's village. "Now there's my Christmas wish come true."

He points the SUV at the group. Santa. Five kids. Four parents. Tripling the death toll if they don't get out of the way. He lays the responsibility on Robin. "Last chance, Junior. Sure you've got nothing to say for dear old Santa Claus?"

Like it's Robin aiming the car at him. With the pedal pressed down to the floor. Like he's the one murdering them. But Tim's a quick thinker, and doesn't miss a beat. "You can't fool me. There ain't no Sanity Claus."

And Joker... laughs. And turns the SUV down another street instead.

He praises Robin's appreciation for the Marx Brothers. It's a weird moment, reminiscent of him calling himself 'Unca Joker.' Like he's on the cusp of liking the little rat, except for the whole mortal enemies thing. That is... until Tim names the wrong Marx Brothers movie. Joker is annoyed, and suddenly the ride is an trivia argument about an 80-odd year old movie. The clown is caught up in setting the scene where Robin's movie quote is.

Robin's bare fist catches him monologuing, and there's an audible crack of some jaw or face bone snapping at the impact.

He rips down the rear review mirror and slams that Joker's fat face, too, before diving into the backseat. Robin props one of the corpses up in front of himself, and it takes the punch meant for him. Chunks of teeth scatter everywhere.

Tim grabs the Joker and slams his head against the ceiling light of the SUV, so hard the plastic shatters. He frisks Joker with almost manic efficiency. Sprays him in the face with his own gas. Joker flees the still rolling SUV onto the highway.

Through the open rear door or open driver's window, the Joker can be seen getting hit off the side of the highway by a truck. His shrieking laughter can still be heard after he goes over the side.

Police arrive. And Batman. The memory is scratchy on the between. He hears Joker laughing as he falls from inside the van. With the bodies. And then there's everyone, and they're getting the bodies out to check their vitals. From the sheets, there aren't any.

Robin is sitting on the hood of the Batmobile. His knee is hugged to his chest - it's not something you see a lot of superheroes do in public. Show that kind of vulnerability. His voice is steady and blunt, though. "Any point in hoping they found his body on the street?"

"Doesn't look like it." Batman makes no outward sign of checking if Robin's okay. If Tim was injured, he would have already included it in his report.

"Thanks, Santa. And here I thought I had been so good this year."

"I'm proud of you, Tim. You took the worst that the Joker could give, and you beat him. That may not make you feel better about his victims, but he won't be hurting anyone else for a long time."

"That's something, I guess." Tim is referring to Batman being proud. He's less optimistic about how long it will take Joker to hurt someone, but the memory of Robin doesn't delay getting into the Batmobile.

When Robin moves, he leaves Tim behind on the hood of the car, finally free from the memory that he’s been forced to relive in agonizing real time. He stares at the snowy highway. The second time was worse, and Bruce’s encouragement doesn’t help him get moving this time.

Elle is in Feline in some sort of cell or cage, surrounded by lionesses. She isn’t used to her senses yet. Everything is overwhelming. It’s dark. There’s some kind of roaring crowd on the other side of the cage door. It smells like fear and blood. She doesn’t know what she’s supposed to be doing, yet. Find Roberta’s sword, retrieve it, and get it back to the Duchess? She’s beginning to think that this isn’t a well thought out plan.

She’s already taken leadership of the lions, for now (she’s a fair bit bigger and reeks of Rage.) She needs to be sure that they won’t be in the way of— whatever it is that she’s supposed to be doing. She’ll figure it out.

The cage is dark and stinks of hunger and desperation. She looks around and has the horrifying realization that these lions have been starved. They pace around the cage and eye each other (and her) warily. Who knows how much longer before it’s every cat for herself?

Elle stands still in the middle of the room and wait.

An indefinite amount of time later, there’s a loud creak as the cage door lurches and begins to raise. She can hear the squeaking metal of the mechanism. It seems to be a primitive technology.

The roaring crowd gets louder. The smell of death and violence becomes much more potent as she stalks out the door, and the light is blinding.

Her eyes adjust to see that she’s in a coliseum filled with a screaming crowd. They seem to be drunk off of booze and food and bloodlust. The sounds almost hurts. She wants to be somewhere— anywhere— else. There isn’t a cloud in the blue sky above.

But no, she asked for this. She has to see it through.

In the center of the dirt is a woman dressed in leather armor with a sword and shield.

Elle leads the lions forward. The woman— somehow she knows it’s Roberta— makes eye contact. Does she know what Elle is? Who she is? Why she’s here?

Her sword is short and wooden like a child’s toy.

Roberta glances down at it, then back to Elle. She must know, then.

Elle is frozen with indecision. What is she supposed to do? Fight Roberta? Protect her? Let her fight the lions alone?

The coliseum quiets as the crowd holds its breath, waiting for the first move. This is their show.

One of the lions steps forward, but Elle’s immediate growls has her stepping back again almost immediately.

Roberta kneels. Elle approaches her, confused.

“There’s only one way this can end, child,” Roberta tells her.

A deep feeling of horror begins to crawl its way up Elle’s throat. What is she talking about?

Roberta lowers her head in submission.

There’s a pregnant pause as Elle puts the pieces together.

“No!” She snarls. She isn’t speaking any language a human should be able to understand, but somehow Roberta does.

She shakes her head with eyes full of pity. “It’s okay. This is how my story goes.”

That gives Elle pause because— this has all already happened. Elle is just a trespasser in Roberta’s memories. She can’t change the outcome of this any more than Roberta can.

The horror fills her mouth and runs down her spine. She mewls pathetically.

The lionesses are breathing down her neck, still starving.

Roberta drops her shield, then her sword. The ground is already stained in blood, but Elle hasn’t moved. Whose blood is that? She wishes it were her own.

Elle pounces.

The rest is just flashes of

blood and

flesh

and a droning crowd and a blue, cloudless sky.

I’m sorry is all she can think. The tears in her eyes are almost a blessing.

I’m so sorry.

The lions and crowd and body fade until there's nothing but an empty, bloodstained coliseum.

Elle stands away from it all, her eyes turned away like she couldn't bear to watch but didn't think she deserved to look away.

Edited 2022-03-31 02:54 (UTC)

What the fuck.

Elle is pretty sure she's incapable of Frenzying or throwing up here because if she was, she'd have done it by now.

She doesn't know what to say to Tim. He didn't want anyone to see this, much less her.

There's several minutes of horrified silence.

"Can I give you a hug?"

CW: Human experimentation, mind control, gross gooey stuff, medical abuse/neglect

The Terran Confederacy are wonderful people who used Kerrigan and some of her fellow telepaths as subjects in experiments to see if the zerg, a ravenously expansive alien hivemind, could be controlled. This went about as well as you might think. Here's an excerpt. (~1000 words)

In their previous game, during one of your standard KISS OR ~~DIE~~ BE INCONVENIENCED mistletoe events, Kerrigan and Loken met and it was awkward, but she did get to first base in record time. Here's the thread!

It clips along at a good pace, a bit of a montage. Kon and his team Young Justice wear red armbands with the word P and an Asclepius symbol. The armbands of medics. They fight out in the wreckage of blown up ships, on the ground of planets about to be hollowed by Imperiex's forces. They're trying to rescue the casualties from Imperiex's forces that have lingered behind, or from scavengers.

The people they rescue are mangled, enough to turn the stomach. This is war, after all. War is ugly, war is revolting, war is not what Young Justice expected when they volunteered, when they fought desperately to be on the front lines with the other heroes, insisting they were old enough, mature enough, skilled enough. They were relegated to the rear, to being medics and transport to casualties.

Whoever's viewing the memory can share his thoughts. Kon doesn't want to be on the front lines anymore. He doesn't want to be here at the rear, either. He just wants to go home now, even though he doesn't have one anymore now that the Cadmus project has disappeared. Kon wishes he had a mother to go home to, so he had someone that could pet his hair and tell him it's going to be okay.

It's even worse because of some of the people they bring in. There are flashes of older memories, of times he's fought besides the other heroes in bright colors that they're transporting. It is worse because they didn't just meet these people in war, they've known them for years. Kon has known some of them his whole, short life.

They are allies, mentors, role models, friends. There's a flash of Kon and Green Lantern, Kyle Raynor, teaming up. Kon is younger in that memory, just a fifteen-year-old boy, with a fade haircut, and a leather jacket. He doesn't have many hobbies besides fighting bad guys. He hasn't been taught the little human things like having hobbies.

"You can, like, draw and paint and stuff? That's so cool. I can't do anything except be Superboy."

"Have you ever tried?" asks Kyle.

The older hero patiently teaches Kon to draw.

But now GL's contorted in agony with his chest partly open and ribs unnaturally shattered and sticking out past flesh, trying to put on a brave face as he's bandaged up.

Now Wonder Woman's beautiful face is completely bandaged with blood soaked bandages as he and his friends transport her to the ship. His teammate, whose costume has a W symbol on her chest mimicking Wonder Woman's breast plate, is trying to work past her distress over the injuries her mentor has sustained.

At one point Kon's friend Steel has been captured and is being flown to a nightmare planet. They see it down below, fire shooting out of many great furnaces. Hell is real. Kon holds Robin as their teammate Lobo flies the ship after Steel.

He and Robin get in a fight. But the group rallies under Robin's leadership. They try to fix the ship. They try to rescue Steel, since they're there anyway.

They try.

But they get captured. One of Impulse's time duplicates - a version of him shifted sideways in time, a part of him - is vaporized in front of them. The main Impulse curls up on the ground, catatonic, over feeling his own death.

"Bart, wake up. Bart, come on, wake up! Please wake up."

Kon's eyes are brimming with tears as he takes Bart in his arms.

His fault. It's all his fault. All of this is his fault.

He and the two others he's with go down under a wave of parademons after that. Kon desperately tries to protect his unconscious friend but Bart's wrenched from his arms.

They're strapped down in a nightmare lab, visors put over their eyes, causing them to keep dipping down into nightmare after nightmare, like they're drowning, unable to surface. The memory shows the nightmares.

Kon, completely restrained.

"This is all your fault!" Robin cries out, dangling from two chains. "You did this to us, Kon! You got us stuck here. They're all dead because of you!"

Some kind of hell hound, something monstrous, is set on him.

"No! No, stop! Please! Rob!" Kon cries out, as the monstrous thing tears his best friend apart. Robin's screams are shrill and haunting.

"ROB! ROB! I'm sorry!" The screams wrench out of Kon. "I'm sorry!"

He breaks down into despondent sobs and then turns to his captor, Granny Goodness, tears streaming down his face. "Kill you! I'll kill you!"

New nightmare. His ex, Tana is alive again, but then she's not as she's burned alive in one of the fire pits.

"Tana! Tana, no, not again!"

It's nightmare after nightmare until his team breaks free. Robin, so staunch, so moral, so against killing, jumps on Granny Goodness, screaming, "I'll kill you! I'll kill you!" and Kon knows it's his fault he's been driven to this.

But they fight their way out, all desperation. They get back to the ship, they get back into space, they get back to their side. They collapse in exhaustion when they get back to base. Their various frantic mentors rush towards them, embracing them or placing hands on shoulders. Red Tornado, their team mentor, checks in with each of them.

It's over.

Except it won't be for some time.

He visits the Kent farm afterward, visits Ma. Finds out Pa has disappeared. Superman shows up...actually cries. Pa is missing, possibly dead.

"Go talk to him, Kon. I'll put on some tea," says Ma Kent. A pause. "Fall's coming early this year."

Kon gets changed into some borrowed clothes - probably Clark's from when he was younger. When he meets Superman on a hillside, he's changed as well into a button-down flannel shirt. They are both shaken. Dead-eyed. Washed out. They have fought in the same war, they've both seen things.

Kon sits with Clark on the hill.

"You'll find him. I know you'll find him. I mean, you're you. You're..."

A long pause. Kon buries his head in his arms and leans them on his drawn up knees.

"When is it going to stop feeling like this?" Kon asks.

Clark leans his head on his knees as well. "When you find out, let me know."

Fall came early that year.

Edited 2022-03-31 06:58 (UTC)

A small Ange recieved a small piece of paper at school......wrote "I wish for my family to come home" on it, hung it on a bamboo branch, and fastened that to her bed post.
Then, she clapped, and made her wish again so that it would come true...
Having wished with all her might, Bern appeared to her in the land next to illusions, the world of slumber.

"............Hello, Ange. Is that your wish?"
"Ye,...yeah. .........Who.........are you......?"
"I will not tell you my name. This is the world of slumber, a world like the receding tide. .........Even if you hear my name, it will not remain in your memory."
"........................"
"Well then, your wish. .........I wouldn't mind causing a miracle and granting your wish."
".........Really...? Really...?!"
"Yes. Really. ......However, magic is something that will not be granted unless you wish for it strongly and work hard for it. ......I hear that's how it works. According to Lambda. It's such a pain."
Ange was not able to hide her surprise at this witch, who showed up in the world of her dreams, claiming that she would grant her wish.
However, she felt that the witch wanted something in exchange for the miracle.
......But, if her family would come home, Ange thought that she would accept any undertaking.

"I'll work as hard as you want me to, Witch-sama. Please hear my wish...!"
"......I understand. If you follow my instructions every single day, if your desire for that wish to be truly granted reaches the heavens......at that time, I will definitely pay you another visit, and grant your wish."

Although, that could be 1 year from now, 5 years from now, or perhaps 10 or more years from now.
In that regard, I guess I'm about the same as Lambda. ......In the end, I'll grant it, so it's not exactly unkind. *giggle*giggle*......

"Then, Witch-sama. ......What should I strive for......?"
"Today, you were told by your foster mother, Ushiromiya Eva, to think of her as a replacement for your mother, and that you could count on her for anything, right...?"
"Ye, ......yes."

Eva......had said that to Ange today.
We are connected because we are aunt and niece. But, we are also connected in that I have lost a child, and you have lost your parents.
And we cannot trick ourselves into thinking of each other as replacements for our lost family.
Even so, I think of you as my own child.
So if you......could allow that, then I'd like you to think of me as your mother, and I want you to rely on me for whatever you need.
Eva had hugged Ange as she said that.
To the young Ange, Mom was Mom, and Eva definitely wasn't. ......However, she understood the the meaning of those words, and the affection verging on sorrow.
But as would be expected from a child her age, she needed some time to accept this......

"Yes. ......Eva oba-san definitely said that."
"If you wish, from the bottom of your heart, for your real mother to return......then you musn't give the position of mother away to somebody else so easily. If your real mother loses her position as your mother, then she will never come back home."
".............................."
To the young Ange, that seemed very logical.
If she accepted someone who wasn't her mother as her mother, then when her real mother came back, there would be no place for her to return......

"......Okay? For your real mother's sake, this is important, right...?"
"Ye, ......yes, Witch-sama. ......Eva oba-san is Eva oba-san. I will certainly never call her Mom. I won't think of her as Mom."
"Good. .....And Eva oba-san said something else, right?"

Right now, we cannot forget the scars on our hearts, and together we have forgotten how to smile.
However, I believe that this would surely sadden my child and your parents.
......Wouldn't it be alright if we could remember how to smile, if only a little bit at a time?
Of course, we can't do this right away.
We have to remember our forgotten smiles bit by bit.
That's why.....I've decided that from today on, I'll try my best to practice smiling.
..............................That's weird...isn't it?
Ange-chan, if you ever remember how to smile........please show me too.
I feel that if we do that, we'll be able to remember how to smile even more.

"Yes. ......Eva oba-san definitely said that."
"To one who wishes for their family to return, such as you, pain and sorrow strong enough to lift that wish to the heavens are necessary. ......Until that day, you mustn't show your smile."
"I mustn't, ......show, .........my smile."
"Yes, that's right. ......I'll be watching over you. If it seems like a smile is going to come upon your face, even once......I will accept that as a sign that you don't care if your family comes back or not anymore. I promise you that the miracle of them coming home will never happen."
"......I, ......don't want that. I certainly won't smile...! Until Dad and Mom and Onii-chan come home, I will certainly never smile...!"

"You mustn't feel happiness. You musn't feel joy. .........You must never forget the sorrow of losing your family. ......And stay away from the demon who will try to make you forget that, who will try and decieve you. .........Ushiromiya Eva will try and crush that resolve many times with her sweet words. But you must never listen to them, alright...? Eva is a demon who will try and steal away your family for all eternity. *giggle*. No, she actually DID STEAL THEM AWAY."
"M, my resolve won't be broken...! Until my wish is granted, I certainly will not listen to Eva oba-san's words...!! So please, grant my wish, Witch-sama...!!"
"Yes. As long as you continue to keep your promise, ......then in the end, I will definitely appear before you and grant your wish. ......It's alright. I will definitely not ignore your pure-hearted resolve. ............*giggle*."

The next morning.
Ushiromiya Ange clearly announced it to Eva.
They were, ......the magic words that would bring forth the miracle of her family coming home.
And, the words were a curse that the cruel witch had made her say.
From that day on, ......those words stole the smiling faces from Ange and Eva...for all eternity......

Ange entered the hospital, walking like she's greatly upset. Along the way, she saw someone reading a newspaper, with the kind of titles she had seen so many times before:

"THE SURVIVOR OF ROKKENJIMA IS ON HER DEATH BED
What Are Her Niece's Plans?"

Incredible. Now that Aunt Eva was on the verge of dying, the media was changing gears and preparing to fully go onto getting their sights on her. Ange held back a huff and got on the elevator, going to the floor where Aunt Eva was at.

What was left of the once proud woman was a wreck. Old, disheveled...after twelve years she had given in to the hatred of the public, to Ange's hatred, to her own grief and pain. Both hated each other viscerally, and had made each other's lives miserable. Ange had shouted so many times Eva killed her parents, Eva had demeaned and mumbled so many times how it was unfair Ange was the one alive while her own son and husband died on Rokkenjima. Even now, with Eva about to die, neither was willing to budge an inch.

"You're here...Ange"
"I'm here, as you told me to"

Ange looked at the drawn curtains. When she suggested to open the curtains, Eva mockingly suggested that was so snipers hired by Ange would be able to shoot her freely. Ange replied that she'd rather to the deed in person. No point in their usual venomous banter, though. Ange insisted, asking why Eva called her here.

While Eva talked about pursuers, Ange remembered once again what their life together was. She remembered the slaps whenever Ange made a mistake in front of her, the shouting, the blaming. "Someone like you actually intends to succeed the Ushiromiya family?! George can do something at this level without being told. Why did my George have to die, yet someone like you...!"

To which Ange, many times, replied, shouting back: "You killed everyone! Give me back father and mother! Give me back my brother!"

And now Eva was dying. No reconciliation was on the table. Eva sighed. "Ange...I hate you..."

"The feeling is mutual here"
"I built this future...for George...and then it's all taken by you. And then since I don't have a child anymore, my wealth will be taken from me as well. I'll never...forgive this. But I'll die very soon, so I have been thinking of how I shall torment you even after my death"

Ange closed her eyes, waiting for Eva to get to the point.

Sneering, Eva continued: "I thought of killing you right away, or perhaps to leave you penniless and sell you as a slave. Or to slice off all your limbs. How sweet is that...! But the best way if surprisingly easy. That's why I have called you here today. Ange, give me your hand"

The request got Ange taken aback. "What...?"

"Quickly now. It's not some poison which rot your skin if I touch you, don't worry"

Ange extended her hand and Eva, with a swift move, took off the ring of the head of the Ushiromiyas, and left it on Ange's hand. Ange stared at it, eyes wide open. "Eh?"

""I'll leave all my wealth to you"

Ange stared at her. Eva laughed.

""Everything, including the cursed inheritance and the headship of the Ushiromiya family...and the title of the Golden Witch Beatrice...!"

To hear that name made Ange shake with revulsion. Apparently that was all Eva needed to continue:

"You know, until the day I die, my wealth has been accumulating until it passes to you. Can you even imagine what will happen...? It's fun to be rich, you know! All the demons in Japan will come and play with you from dawn to dusk! Your entire private life will be under the scrutiny of the tabloids and the talk shows! If you hand out your money you'll be labelled a bourgeois, and yet if you hold it back, you'll be called a miser! No matter what you do or don't, you'll be criticized! I extend an invitation to this life which will last even longer from your youth to your death!"

Ange grit her teeth and her fists. "Given what you have done, I think the public's opinion is damn right"

"Curse me all you please! From now on you'll bear all these curses...you'll grow to become a symbol of hate and envy in all of Japan! I wonder what kind of distorted life you'll lead from now on. You won't have friends anymore! No one will ever hear your troubles. Cursing you will become a national sport -- and no one can ever stop it!

You can never trust anyone! No one will ever love you! You can't even have a proper conversation with anyone! I hope you enjoy a crazy and distorted life befitting of a witch!"

That was all Ange lasted before she shouted back. Enraged, she slammed her fists on the pillow. "I don't need all these! Tell me, what happened on Rokkenjima that day?!" All she wanted was the truth. Nothing else mattered. What happened to her family?! What happened on October 4 and 5 of 1986?! "What happened?! Why did my brother and the rest die?! Tell me the truth!"

Eva went quiet and murmured: "So you want to know what happened twelve years ago on that island..." with a weak hand, she beckoned Ange closer. Ange approached her head and Eva, swiftly, grabbed Ange's hair, pulling her closer, and shouted:

"I'M NOT GONNA TEEEELLL YOOOOOOOU"

"Ange went pale. Eva continued:

"Aaaah, this is my favorite way of pissing you off! I'll take the truth you desire down to hell! But I'll leave the cursed gold and the title of witch to you! I can totally feel your anger right now, ahahahahahahaha! If you really want to know, why don't you go down to hell personally and hear it from your family? Why don't you wallow in your regrets and die?"

She finally let go of Ange. Stepping back, Ange's expression steeled while, coughing, Eva began to have her last fit.

The sickness took her life less than an hour later.

Edited 2022-03-31 07:59 (UTC)

She had done it. She had taken Bernkastel's offer, and her spirit had been taken to purgatory. Ange had been given the provisional title of witch, and she turned into Bernkastel's piece, fighting against the Golden Witch Beatrice.

Beatrice was the one who had killed her family, according to a large portion of the public. Did she exist, did she not exist? That was what had to be solved. To set her family free, the existence of Beatrice had to be completely and utterly denied, murdering her. As long as there was anything that could be explained with witches and magic, Beatrice would exist. Defeating Beatrice was what Battler Ushiromiya, Ange's brother, had been trying to do for three different games already, and now the fourth had barely started...

...with Ange to her brother's side, supporting him. Problem was...Ange couldn't tell him who she was. Last time Battler saw Ange, she had been six years old. Keeping secret who she was, was easy.

After a particularly upsetting moment during the fourth game Ange retreated, taking a moment to calm down. That was the moment Lambdadelta took to talk to her. Lambdadelta was the witch who supported Beatrice, just like Bernkastel supported Ange. That made her an enemy, Ange knew. When Lambda said she wanted to talk, Ange tried to leave.

But Lambda knew exactly how to manipulate Ange:

"And I was so excited to tell you about the lie Bernkastel told you..."

That made Ange stop and slowly turn towards Lambda. "Bernkastel? A lie?" Even though her instincts were telling her this was a trap, Ange listened.

"Bern told you something like 'If you defeat Beato, your brother will come back home', right?"
"I don't need to answer that"
"Hey, Ange, what year is it now?"
Ange thought why that question would pop up now. "You mean the world of the game? October 4th, 1986"
"Correct. If you beat Beatrice, your relatives will return, just as you expect...on October 6th of 1986, right?"

Ange nodded.

Lambda continued: "How was your October 6th of 1986? I guess you caught a cold and were put under the care of relatives, right?" Yes, that was why Ange hadn't been on Rokkenjima twelve years ago. That was why she survived. That day she had been playing with blocks, and then...she had been told...

...everyone was dead.

Lambdadelta put her hands on Ange's shoulders and, almost biting her ear, whispered to her:

"On your OCtober 6th of 1986, did your brother Battler come back to you?"

Ange's breath stopped for a brief second. Lambda pounced on that moment of weakness, unforgiving, ruthless:

"If you win the game, Battler will go back to the six year old Ange of 1986, right? And what about you? You're Ange Ushiromiya of 1998, to whom Battler didn't come back to"" Lambda's grip tightened. "Do you understand what it means?

...eh? Eh, wait...what? No, wait...

Lambda added: "In the first place, you're not even Ange Ushiromiya. Strictly speaking, you're Ange Beatrice" That's right...Ange, having been bestowed the title of a witch. This was her spirit, the only way for her to be in the world of witches. Strictly speaking, she was a different entity. Not only that...

...Ange realized the truth right before Lambda spelled it out: "You're a kid Bern sent to help Battler win. Just a piece of a witch! If you defeat Beato, your family will return to Ange Ushiromiya, but Bern didn't say that Ange Ushiromiya was you, right?

Right, she...she hadn't...what had she said? What had she said?! Wait, no...Bernkastel, she dangled her desire in front of her, speaking in riddles, and made her misunderstand. Her salvation was nothing like this...and instead, she was now a puppet for a witch.

"...then...even if I win the game, my family won't come back to me...?"

"Yeah, exactly. I, the Witch of Certainty, Lambdadelta, will declare it: your family coming back to you is something that will certainly not happen!"

Ange's eyes filled with tears while she fell on her knees, glancing up at the cruel witch telling her this all.

Lambdadelta giggled. "No matter how this game ends, you won't be rewarded. On the contrary, if the game ends, a piece -- you -- will disappear. A piece is unnecessary for a finished game"

"...it can't be..." Ange murmured. "Then what...did I come this far for...?"

Lambda's expression softened, and she kneeled, hugging Ange. "Poor Ange...I'll punish Bern for lying to you. I'll lock Bern in the cage of this game for all eternity...this here can be a place where you can be together forever with Battler as partners, you know?"

An eternal draw. That was what Lambdadelta was asking for: for the game to not end in Battler's victory, denying the witch...or with Beatrice's victory, making Battler surrender and accept her existence. Lambdadelta wanted a draw, countless draws, so the game would continue forever and ever.

Ange realized it. Her goal had been to defeat Beato and release her family from their mortal fate. But even if she accomplished that...she wouldn't be rewarded.

Lambda grabbed Ange's face and made her look into her eyes. "Ange, be my piece. I won't let you be dazzled by fake rewards you can never get like Bern did. If you collaborate with me to not let the game end, I promise with certainty that this place where you can be together with Battler will continue"

Ange stared at her hopelessly.

Lambda added something else to the offer: "And not only that. The rule by which you can't call yourself Ange...I'll revoke that for you. Of course this is only after you accept being my piece, hm?"

So when Battler is nearly losing, Ange would have to help him. When Battler corners Beato, she'd have to restrain him a bit.

...Ange wished she hadn't listened. Trap or not, this was...not...something she had wanted to hear.

Edited 2022-03-31 06:19 (UTC)

Someone will find themselves in the bedroom of a small house, watching as a half-clothed Dan Sagittarius and a brown-haired woman make out in a queen-sized bed. Dan's not much younger than he is now. The angle of the sunlight through the shades indicates that it's sometime in the mid-morning.

He places kisses along his partner's neck, and she giggles as he hits a sensitive place behind her ear. "I'm so lucky I ran into you in the parking lot," she says.

"I think I'm the lucky one, this time," Dan says, without a trace of his usual accent.

She places a finger to his lips, laughing. "Sorry, just-- your voice- it just kills the mood."

Dan waggles his eyebrows at her and walks more kisses along her collarbone, continuing to make her giggle, then starts to slip out of the bed, clothed only from the waist down.

"Where are you going?" she asks.

"Making you breakfast," he says, placing a kiss on the top of her head. "Be right back."

"You're an absolute dream, you know that? You'd better not run off while my back is turned. I need you to meet my mom." The woman laughs and flops back into her pillows. "Oh my God. Is it possible to fall in love on one date? Ugh, I'm sorry, I sound like a schoolgirl, that's way too much."

"When you know, you know. You stay beautiful and rested, and I'll grab you a pop tart," Dan says, closing the bedroom door behind him as he starts to investigate the house. He bee-lines for the kitchen and throws a pop tart into the toaster, but from there he heads towards the purse on the counter. He pulls out the money clip - fourteen dollars - and tucks that into his pocket, then grabs a trash bag from under the sink and heads to the bathroom.

In the bathroom, Dan starts to grab things and shove them into the trashbag. Toilet paper, a stick of deodorant, a bottle of hand soap, toothpaste. He opens the cabinet door and sees bottles of pills, and holds up a cell phone to it, taking a photo with the sound off.

He texts the photo to someone and dials a number. A child's voice answers on the other side: "ibuprofen's in the big white bottle, antacid has the blue cap."

"Nothing we can sell?" Dan whispers.

"No, no painkillers or anything. Just over-the-counter stuff. So much for you buying me a pony for Christmas, huh?"

"Gotta go," he whispers. He grabs the ibuprofen and the antacid and shoves them in the trashbag, then throws in a pack of razors from under the sink. He ties the bag and slinks out of the house, grabbing a laptop off the counter on the way out.

Right as the front door closes, a burned pop tart pops up out of the toaster.

"Oh boy," the real Dan says, rubbing his hand over his face as he watches this whole thing play out. "Not my finest moment."

Edited 2022-03-31 07:19 (UTC)

Kon looks very close to the age he is now. He and Robin are standing on the rooftop of a building. In the distance is San Francisco. They can even see the long span of the Golden Gate bridge.

"Before you go, we need to talk, too," says Robin. "I did tests on a strand of your hair."

"What? When do you have -" Kon starts.

"Your DNA is split. Fifty percent Kryptonian, from Superman, and fifty percent...it tested positive. Lex Luthor was your human donor."

"Dammit, you're just like Batman, you know that? Lying, sneaking around --"

"Ignoring it wasn't going to help anyone."

"And how's knowing going to help me? What am I supposed to do now? It's like, it's like I've got a fifty percent chance of growing up to be the world's greatest hero - or the world's greatest villain."

"Not to mention," says Robin, "You might go bald."

"Funny, man. Look, it wasn't cool of you to do that behind my back. Who else knows?"

"Just us. And whoever emailed me that file."

"What am I going to do? What if one day I just, like, go psycho? What if those genes kick in and...I really do become a bad guy?"

"That's never going to happen."

"How do you know?"

"Because I'm going to be here to make sure. All of the Titans will be. And one of these days, I'm probably going to have to deal with something, too, something I'll need help with - and I know you'll be there to help me."

A beat. "I was wrong," Kon says. "You're nothing like Batman."

Robin smirks, "I'm nothing like anybody."

Flash forward a few months. Kon is in his room preparing to tell all of his other friends about his Luthor DNA. There's a high whistle from his computer that hits his superhearing like a brick. Lex Luthor's voice comes out of it.

"Aut vincere aut mori."

Kon's eyes flare up with heatvision. He goes to the bathroom and shaves off all his hair, cuts an L into his shirt. He goes downstairs and attacks his friends. Hits them with heatvision, tears Cyborg apart with telekinesis. The fight gets moved outside. He punches Cassie unconscious. Shatters Tim's arm. Then flies off to be with his "father."

Luthor siccs him on his friends again after that, with greater intent to kill. They fight him, but implore him to fight back. For a moment, he breaks free. The heatvision dies down. His face is burnt because of having the heatvision flaring for so long, blood dripping from under his eyes.

"I never wanted to hurt anyone." She goes to hold him. "G-get. Get away from me. Please. I...I saw it all. I'm... I'm a monster."

But Luthor uses the words again to take control again. Eventually, he makes the mistake of attacking Cassie too many times, shooting her with rockets from his power suit. Kon breaks the control.

"Leave her alone 'dad.'"

He fights Luthor until he breaks the suit, exposing the kryptonite within, then bows over in pain.

"I will make you stronger," says Luthor unsheathing a built in blade.

But Kid Flash has his back. Starfire is about to level some of the baddies and that means the group has to get clear. He comes in at superspeed and carries Kon and Wonder Girl away at superspeed. Eventually the fight is over. Nightwing, devastated a teammate died, walks away, saying it got too personal.

Kon is left lying in the grass, his friends doting over him. Until the Justice League comes. Until he sees Superman's concerned face. He rolls over, curls in a ball, looks away in shame. Green Lantern carries him away from his friends with green energy from his ring.

The rest is a blur. He spends most of it under red sun lamps, or hooked up to power inhibitors. Techs at STAR Labs dig around in his mental architecture, painfully ripping things out, as Kon grits his teeth. The framework is buried deep - he was always meant to be controlled by at least someone - it was just different parties wanted it to be them.

When that's done, he's temporarily moved to the Watchtower. Martian Manhunter sits with him, checking for the last bits in his brain that need to be cleaned up, soothing over the parts that feel open and raw. He's very kind, promises him it'll be alright, that the last of it is gone. The kindness is not something Kon will forget.

He eventually leaves.

With his superhearing, he hears the adults arguing. It's gotten heated enough they've forgotten he can possibly hear. Some of them might not even know his superhearing has kicked in.

"J'onn," asks Wonder Woman, "Do you think the last of the control programming is gone?"

"I believe so, but there is still the possibility something may be deeply hidden. His mind is different from many others. So much is artificially programmed. There is still risk of other control programming I cannot see."

Batman's familiar growl. "He needs to be locked up."

"This wasn't his fault!" says Superman. "He's a good kid! He didn't ask for this, and this couldn've happened to anyone. How many times have all of us been mind controlled?"

"We weren't made to be controlled, Clark," says Batman. "We weren't made to kill and destroy."

They argue about what to do with him. Some argue he should be locked away in the Fortress of Solitude until... until what? Kon knows they don't have an endgame in sight.

Locked away and never let out. Locked away and forgotten, like a dangerous piece of tech that has to be kept away from innocent people. Or some dangerous creature not fit to be around people, but too pitiable to kill. He lays there on the med bed, staring up at the ceiling. Tears drip from the corners of his eyes and stream down his temples. He's too sad to move, to even sob.

Finally, there's a decision.

"We're not locking him up. I'm going to take him back to the farm."

"You can't just unilaterally decide --" starts Batman.

"Ma says he's going home and that's that," says Clark, stubbornly, and finally the discussion stops.

Nobody is about to challenge a woman as formidable as Ma Kent. Many of them have met her, brought home for Christmases. She's kind enough that if she's put her foot down there's no way her mind will be changed.

"Fine," Batman growls. "But keep him away from Robin."

He is exhausted by the time Superman takes him home. He carries him back to Kansas, one of Kon's arms draped over his shoulders. Ma takes him in her arms and tells him it's going to be okay, Pa rests a hand on his shoulder.

Kon spends the next few days in a depressed fugue. He rips apart the shirt he'd carved the L into, and the jeans spattered in the blood of his friends, in the strange oil Cyborg's robot parts use instead of blood. Burns the scraps with heatvision in the backyard, watching the tattered remains of the S-shield curl up and turn to ash.

He sleeps for days. Or at least drifts in and out of sleep, alternating between sleeping and laying there too depressed to even move. Breathing feels like a chore. But Ma gets him up and moving. Asks him to do actual chores. He does them out of obligation but having to do them makes him get up. Shower and change. Actually eat. Get out in the sun.

Even if he still sinks into the despair the times he's alone. Sitting on the front porch, he holds his head in his hands.

"God. Why am I here?" he asks, sounding utterly broken. "Why do I even have to exist?"

Edited 2022-03-31 06:57 (UTC)

[ooc: place holder basically but. If none of these prompts work for you, let me know and we can come up with something else! I've taken him from getting his own proper suit (aka pinching one and customizing it from his dimension's Pete's Spider-Cave or whatever. So he's basically taken from being on his way to help deal with Kingpin and get the other Spiders back home. Anything up to that point is fine!]

"Filbo, why are your sashes stuffed into the latrine?"

Filbo, who had been busy sewing new ones, turned to look at Lizbert when she asked that question. She had arrived, bringing a sack presumably full of the latest hunt. "...m-maybe they fell in there" he mumbled. As if. He knew exactly who in town had done it. That had been such an infantile thing to do to him -- not that everything else had been any better. Beffica had resorted to every trick: name-calling, snooping into his hut, being contrarian, and now she apparently had gotten into his hut to take his sashes to throw them into the outhouse.

This was outright harassment. Still...Filbo didn't want to talk about it. Not when there were a million other fires going on in Snaxburg. He could see how tired Lizbert seemed to be sometimes, she letting her guard down around him. Lizbert sat with him, her gray fur a little messy after coming back from hunting Bugsnax.

"So what happened while I was gone?" she asked. As the mayor deputy, Filbo was technically in charge while she was out hunting. Problem was...

"Everyone is waiting to talk with you" Problem was that nobody trusted Filbo to do a thing. No matter how hard he tried, everybody just told him it was all fine, and then when Lizbert arrived they'd talk with her. It was as if Filbo was just there to fill space.

Filbo couldn't blame them, everyone had their issues and a lot of problems to deal with, but...sometimes he really had to wonder if it was that everyone hated him. Maybe that was it.

"They didn't even tell you?"

"Um...not really. But I did look around. The sauce crop isn't growing well, Triffany's leg isn't healing well and I kinda think she argued with her husband again, and we're running out of Bugsnax"

Well, at least the last one was easily solved, Lizbert had returned from hunting. Grinning, she extended the sack towards Filbo. "Since you're working so hard how about you get first pick? Take whatever you want!"

That was remarkable, usually Lizbert's girlfriend got the best stuff. That could only mean Filbo had to look especially downcast today, for her to offer this to him! Still...Filbo didn't like eating Bugsnax very much, but she had never told Lizbert that.

Something about eating a critter that was staring right at you seemed a little iffy. Despite how he felt, he continued devouring them.

There was nothing else to eat, after all -- unless you count the sauce.

Filbo didn't really take a good look inside. Getting his paws into the sack, soon he took out a strawberry -- a very large strawberry, the size of a human head, with googly eyes that were still blinking. He could hear the Bugsnax's soft crooning. 'Strabby Strabby Strabby'

Lizbert frowned. "That's all? Filbo, there's better stuff in here"

"I know! But I like these"

"...if you say so" It was pointless to argue with Filbo. Still, Lizbert patted him on the back. "I have told you since we were kids: you should think of yourself more. Think about what you want, and try to get it. You'll be happier once you do"

Ever since Lizbert defended him while he was being picked on in school, she had been so encouraging to him. Even after all these years that hadn't changed at all. Giving him a smile, Lizbert left, swinging the sack over her shoulder and walking away to deliver food to everyone else in town...

...leaving Filbo behind with that. Bugsnax were amazing. They were really filling, so much you didn't even need three meals a day. Not that it stopped almost everyone from wanting as many as they could get!

"...welp. Down the hatch, am I right?" Shrugging, Filbo opened his mouth and, with two swift bites, ate the Strabby. That it was still alive didn't matter, nor the effects of consuming Bugsnax were of any importance once they popped up a few seconds later.

His right arm changed. Blue fur was replaced with strawberry rinds, swelling almost instantly, turning crimson red. Little seeds and leaves peppered the many strawberries that now formed his arm, better strawberries than most out there.

When you eat Bugsnax, your body changes. It's just cosmetic, was the conclusion Lizbert had gotten to, and the scientist and the medic in their group had confirmed there were no ill effects!

"Still pretty neat!" Filbo commented and continued sewing, as if the transformation of his limb was no big deal. And it wasn't really. If Lizbert said it was all okay, then it was all okay.

That was all there was to it.

[ooc: cw cartoon violence because Fisk.]

[It's dark. There's rubble all over from the fighting. Miles rushes over to a man with bright blue eyes revealed under the ripped and torn mask of his superhero outfit - familiar to some here, perhaps. It's similar enough to Miles's one, just different colours. Red and blue instead of his black and red. Miles checks on him, asking if he was okay, if he could get up.

'Yeah. I always get up.' he reassures the younger teen, even as he is clearly in a lot of pain and took quite a beating. The coughing is not the most reassuring either. He tells Miles he has to get up there, that they don't have much time. He tells Miles to use the override key to stop the collider, to swing up there and use the key, blow it up. He tells Miles to hide his face, not to let anyone know who he is.

He talks about what is at stake, that if that machine, this collider turns on, everything and everyone Miles knows will disappear. He asks Miles to promise to stop it. Miles agrees. He starts climbing, as Peter reassures him that it is going to be okay, that he would come and find him.

Miles hides as he hears talking. That is decidedly not Peter's voice. It's Kingpin. He finds Spider-Man, unmasking him. Saying it isn't always about the money. There's another with him, the Prowler, in his black and purple outfit, with those claws. Peter says he knows what Kingpin is trying to do. That it won't work. That they are gone. Whoever 'they' are. Fisk is in a rage at hearing that, in denial, as he beats Peter in response, slamming his huge fists into Peter.

Miles accidentally knocks some debris as he shifts in his horror, drawing attention. He freezes for a moment, knowing Kingpin heard that and probably saw him before he runs off.]

[ooc: again. Fisk. cw for violence/shooting.]

[Miles is running, fleeing from the Prowler. Ignoring the Prowler's calling for him to 'give it back'. Miles kicks to free himself as the Prowler grabs at his ankle while he dashes upstairs. He manages to get free, to make it up to the roof but it is up there that he's overpowered, as the Prowler grabs him by the neck and dangles him over the edge of the roof. Miles's sneakers barely hold him up from falling if the Prowler were to let go.

He unmasks, revealing his face as his uncle does too in response. His uncle decidedly does not seem thrilled at this revelation, as Kingpin in the car nearby asks what he is waiting for, telling him to finish Spider-Man. His uncle pauses, lowering Miles's mask back over his face as he holds up his hands, stepping back just as Kingpin shoots him for disobeying. Miles barely seems to register that Kingpin also shoots at him as Peter? seems to take care of that, telling Miles to go.

He does. Taking Aaron with him as he swings, barely missing in going over the top of a cop car that happens to have his father in it. He finds a small alley, brings them down there. Lays Aaron down. Sobs as his uncle says about how Miles was the best of them. That he had to keep going. He's still there as the cop car drives up, as his father scales the fence and pulls a gun on him, telling him to put his hands up. Miles does, but then uses his camouflage to get away while his father finds his uncle.]

Edited 2022-03-31 07:49 (UTC)

Little by little, everyone who had left Snaxburg after Lizbert's disappearance would return. Filbo, who had been the only one who stay in the town, had managed to keep all the huts from falling apart, and now that the journalist who arrived all of a sudden was hunting Bugsnax and convincing others to return, now Filbo could focus on the eternal task of keeping the town infrastructure standing, and the people happy. Since Lizbert was gone, he had to step up and do his best, and that was what he'd do.

Morale was important! Which was why, once Gramble, Beffica and Wambus returned to town, he decided a welcome back party would be a decent idea. Hosting it would be difficult, given the very limited resources, but he managed to set decorations, bring out a boombox and get music blasting, and made drinks! Well, tried to make drinks. He didn't manage to figure out how to ferment the Bugsnax in time. It didn't matter, though -- a good party is good because of the people in it!

Everyone was there. In all of Filbo's limbs, strawberries and carrots had replaced everything up to the elbow and knee joints. He wasn't the only one, though: Beffica and Wambus had different foodstuff replacing their limbs, although in Beffica's case one of her arms up to the shoulder had turned into sausages. Gramble and that journalist were the only ones without any changes, and in Gramble's case it was because he insisted in keeping Bugsnax as pets to breed, with absolutely no success.

The party was...failing. Hard. Everyone refused to even try to enjoy themselves. Deciding to take matters into his own paws, Filbo began to approach them.

"Gramble! How's the barn!" Filbo greeted. Gramble narrowed his eyes.
"Well it's good and locked"
"Ah. G-Great. It's good to be...secure" Filbo replied awkwardly.
"What happened to the Bugsnax you were babysitting for me?" Gramble asked. Filbo cringed. The answer was simple: he ate them to not starve to death while he stayed in a ghost town for a couple months. Saying that would make Gramble upset, so...
"...gggggreat catching up with you, buddy" Filbo said and retreated. That could have gone better.

Beffica, right. She was hanging out near the drinks. True, they had trouble getting along in the past, but the past was the past. Even though Filbo didn't like her, she was part of the town and therefore deserved hospitality. Filbo approached her, managing to keep his sunny attitude despite talking to her.

"Welcome to the party, Beff!"
The response was as acidic as expected. Filbo sighed internally while she said it, only catching the last part. "...you started a party around me"
"...I'll take what I can get! How is the bug juice?"
"Isn't this just water?" she asked, with the most unimpressed stare he had ever seen.
Filbo gulped. "Well i-it's bug...infused..."
"So it's as strong as you?" there it was, she threw a barb. What did he expect. "Meh. I give this party a two...out of ten"

This was pointless. He should have known all he'd get from talking to her was heartache. There was one person more, may as well try!

"Welcome to the party, Wambone!" he said, even adding a nickname for good measure.
"We're not friends"

...well! You had to respect Wambus for being direct, he supposed.

This party was sinking fast. Beginning to get a tad desperate, Filbo tried to rouse enthusiasm, futilely standing in middle and addressing everyone:

"Come on, everyone, it's a party, woohooo!" he said half-heartedly. Hard to be as enthusiastic as usual when almost everyone was staring at you coldly. "Drink, mingle, get wild...! Um, Beffica" Doesn't the music wanna make you dance?"

"With you? As if. My new bestie is the only reason I'm here" she said, referring to the journalist who seemed fine with just watching things happen. Now definitely desperate, Filbo turned to the rest.

"W-W-Wambus! Gramble! You two surely have lots to talk about"

Saying that was like throwing a match into an oildrum.

"I got nothin' to say to a guy like Wambus"
"Is that so? I have a lot to say to you"
"Yeah? Go ahead and say it"
Wambus approached Gramble. "It's your fault we're in this mess. If you had let us eat your precious livestock, we wouldn't be in this mess in the first place!"
"They weren't livestock. They're my little ones, my kin! You lied and stole them becaue you can't grow anything for yourself!"
"You think these walking vegetables are your family?! I got news for you, Gramble: Bugsnax will never love you.
That definitely hit a nerve, and Gramble didn't hesitate to verbally punch back. "You don't know anything about love! That's why your wife left you!
"I'm gonna do violence to ya"

Okaaaay, that was enough, a brawl was the last thing they needed right now. Filbo tried to intervene. "Okay, let's aaaall take a deep breath here, and--"

Wambus, changing the target of his ire, shouted at Filbo instead. "Don't try to act like you're in charge! If you had the spine to lead us, everyone would still be here!"

"Don't you mean Triffany would still be here?" Filbo heard Beffica behind him.

"Fine! Everyone's gangin' up on me! It don't make me wrong! If you want Triffany back so bad, go find her yerself!" Wambus shouted and stomped away. Filbo could only stare at the ground, disheartened.

Behind him, he heard Beffica comment to the journalist something about the party now being a four out of ten.

Yeah, no, this could have gone better.

[ooc: cw for spider? Just in case. Even I am nope about them, though better about them than I was!]

[Miles is bored. He knows he should be doing his homework. But he decides to take a break and go visit his uncle anyway. He shows up outside his uncle's window, messaging him that he is watching.

He's let in and he messes around, boxing as his uncle asks about school, about girls. Miles says how there is this one girl but they were just laying down the groundwork still. Uncle Aaron tells him about the 'shoulder touch'. Miles laughs it off. He says how he should go, that he has a paper to finish after his dad messages him asking about his homework. His uncle notices his notebook with a new design of sorts for graffiti art or the like, asking if Miles has been holding out on him. Miles says he can't.

But still goes anyway, heading with his uncle to the subway where they graffiti on one of the walls. Miles doesn't seem to really believe when his uncle says how he and his dad used to do this, before Jefferson became a cop and all. His uncle gets a message on his phone and says they have to go, telling Miles to hurry up as he pauses to get a photo. Which is precisely when a spider crawls down his arm and bites at his hand. Miles slaps the spider and it falls, without a second thought, as he leaves with his uncle.]

Edited 2022-03-31 07:49 (UTC)

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MEMORY SHARE ※ 1

Tim Drake

Come on, we’re going for a slayride [CW: violence, death]

Elle Bryant

Elle's First "Kill" cw: violence, murder, mistreatment of animals

KON-EL

Re: Come on, we’re going for a slayride [CW: violence, death]

Sarah Kerrigan

Highly ethical science [CW: Too long, see below]

The cute one! [CW: Suicide comes up briefly YES EVEN IN THE CUTE ONE]

Alloran

Apokolips, cw: torture, gore, war

Ange Ushiromiya

Memory of Being Deceived -- No Warnings

Memory of Being Tormented -- CW: Terminal Sickness, Family Death, Family Abuse

Dan Sagittarius

Memory of Being the Witches' Piece

OTA | [cw: references to sex]

Aut Vincere Aut Mori - cw: mind control, suicidal ideation

Miles Morales l Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse

Filbo Fiddlepie -- Content Warnings for All: Body Horror

Welcome to Snaxburg

Miles is tasked to take over as Peter is killed

Uncle Aaron's true colours and fate

Party in Snaxburg

Miles hangs with Uncle Aaron and gets bitten