randangonpa | ENDGAME/EPILOG

ENDGAME/EPILOG

[In the control room, the raccoons float quietly in their pods; none of the wild cackling from before, no raucous mocking—Where did those pesky animatronics go, anyway? Maybe not every question has been answered, but...how much does it matter? The lost souls are back, tangible and whole, though marked still by whatever's done them in. Maybe those scars and aches won't fade, either.

A metric fuckton of experimenting has gotten us to the answer of how to get back to where we belong: the first control room console makes it easy to find the thumbnail of your world, and, when selected, it automatically brings you to twenty two days from moment you were kidnapped from. It's easy to see an image where you should be there and aren't, and simply select it. The program confirms that you'd like to initiate the transport process, and directs you to stand on the glowing platform; have someone hit the button to shut the process down, or it will time itself out in five minutes.

Is the moment you were brought from not good enough? What about the rewards you were promised? It seems as though specifying those offers or threads isn't quite possible, but the console has two options, each manipulable independently of each other: you can control the date and time, allowing yourself to return as though you hadn't been kidnapped at all. You can also use a slider at the bottom to control the quality of the universe you're brought back to, sliding from the carrot to the stick side: A world where everything that possibly could have gone right for you and those you'd want it for does, where every choice and chance resolves in your favor...or one where there isn't a single moment that isn't conspiring to work against you.

It should be that simple, but...none of those are your universes. Trying to go to any universe but the one marked for you, and/or at any point but that three-week span you've been gone, prompts a warning message about a duplicate version of anyone belonging to that world. It asks if you'd like to proceed, and warns you once more by giving names of potential "doppelgangers"—but will not stop you from stepping onto the platform as it twinkles blue light, regardless. Is improvement worth interfering, maybe destroying, the life of another you?

That choice is up to you. For the first time in a long time, these choices are yours.

It's over. Happy graduation day.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Can't believe the day's come where I have to admit fire magic might be useful for things that aren't roasting marshmallows. This is the worst, Kaiba. I'll never hear the end of it.

Fire safety. You don't need to know how to make a magic fire, you need to know how to not have a fire.

I hate this thing where getting set on fire is actually, like, a significant problem now. Having to actually consider fire safety is, again, the worst.

[how has mae survived this long......]

...Shouldn't fire be like the number one threat when you're from? That and like, overenthusiastic jousting?

Fire's nothiiiiin', stuff tries to set me on fire all the time.

[oh my god, mae]

Mostly we worry about famine and the undead, y'know, and I've never met a jouster I couldn't just zap and solve that problem.

Seems like it's just adding to the undead problem, though. Though I guess it can help with the famine...

Then I just get to zap 'em again. [absolutely giddy; likes: shooting lightning at things] Actually it makes the second one worse though because dark magic taints the farmlands and stuff, but, you know, details.

Ah. Sounds like coming up with tech to clean that up would be some big business...

[money to be made! unfortunately holograms don't really purify things]

...How dangerous is all that, just on a scale of one to here?

Eeehhhhhh like a lot, which is why the others are real lucky to have someone as good at what they do as me around!

[frowns]

...Don't get turned without asking. You'll have to give up sleeping, among other things.

Wouldn't dream of it. Eh? Eh?

[enough]

Heeeyy, don't worry about it, I know causing problems is kinda my thing around here but just imagine how good that means I've gotta be be at things I'm good at—zappin' fools, bodyguarding, being alive enough to do those two things.

[only the flattest of looks for puns...but sure, his expression softens a bit]

...You did sacrifice a god. That puts you in some pretty accomplished company.

Seeeee? Putting a god back'll be a piece of cake. You've got nothin' to worry about besides taking care of yourself when you get back, too, got it?

I have plenty of more pressing things to take care of than myself. ...That said, my brother will probably make me go to a doctor at some point. I can probably take a half-day.

Gods, you are the worst—Hey, no, super seriously, now that we're dismantling bandage club, first order of business is going to be finding someone better at it. I will make you pinkie swear if that's what it takes, don't think I won't.

"Pinkie swear"? ...You guys do them too?

Uh, duh, of course we do? Do you think I come from a land of complete savages?

You're the ones with more running corpses than running water. But if that's what it takes you to be satisfied, fine.

First of all they mostly just shamble when they don't have wings and second, rude and unnecessary, but I will, in fact, be satisfied if you pinkie swear to get patched up and then you keep it.

[indignantly sticks out her pinkie finger!!]

Not my fault the truth hurts.

[smirkingly hooks his pinkie around it, shaking]

I'll see a doctor. Cross my heart, hope to die.

Thank you.

[buuut before she actually releases him from the confines of pinkie swear hell]

Hey, but seriously. Take care of yourself, got it? Especially if you're just gonna be, y'know, dealing with it on your own, you'd better be easy on yourself.

...

[but overwork is the best way to deal with this sort of thing... grudging:]

...I guess I can make an effort. If I have to.

Heeeeyyy! I! Am! Being! Serious!

[aggressively shakes him by the pinkie with each word!!]

Yes you have to, or you are going to hear me being cranky from, like, a bazillion years in the past, I swear.

[sigh... he shakes again, more gentle]

I don't believe in ghosts,

[he says, currently best rivals with a ghost,]

so I guess I won't give you a reason to come crankily haunt me. I'll take care of my health.

A bazillion years is a long time to wait to prove a point but I am annoying.

[pinkie shake with less RIGHTEOUS FURY]

That means as little catching on fire as you can manage but take a break sometimes, too, geez. Maybe sleep for once in your life. All I ask!

[and there, he can have his pinkie back now]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject