We are in a Room with our Avatars

"Ringo, he's just going to use the insta-win Easter Egg if you add in that game."

"Not if I use it first! Doc Scratch, it's battle time!"

"Uh... good luck with that..." Tempest (me) (billybobfred) turns to Fawful. "So, do you have any less terrible ideas?"

Zero walks over to Fawful, as his previous conversational partner is metaphysically AFK.

"So, how's the mad science?"

I am perfectly willing to battle you in all of those games at once. Are you prepared?

edited 25th Jun '17 5:15:47 PM by ZeroL

A horrible amalgamated mess of Puyo, Minos, pills, viruses, panels, orbs, and walls descends from above and below simultaneously. Nothing is matching up because there are too many indistinguishable-yet-distinct colors, and simultaneous yet contradictory movement restrictions make manipulating any of the pieces nigh impossible.

"... So, uh, first I need to put... the... Tempest, how do I play this game?"

"A game like this you don't play so much as you put it out of its misery."

"That doesn't answer the question at all."

"You both be the loyal toadies of me, and we'll be the mustard of doom to the red and green fink-rats!" Fawful replies to both entities talking to him.

Doc Scratch uses the power of the Green Sun to teleport the pieces at will to his own advantage.

I said I am the best there is, not the most skilled. I do not lie, but that is only another reason never to trust me.

"Toady? I don't think working for you is the best way to hold on to my sanity, so I'd rather pass."

edited 25th Jun '17 5:32:15 PM by ZeroL

"Do you even have enough of anything to make a chain out of it, even with cheating? I think I seriously overdid this."

"At least you didn't remember Wario's Woods exists until the challenge was already set. Actually, bombs might have made this whole thing simpler..." She turns to Fawful. "Toadying isn't really my thing. Also I think the bros might be inaccessible from here, for the moment. I'm still unclear on the metaphysics of this place..."

Doc Scratch stops trying to bludgeon a virus with a tetrimino that looks more like a city skyline.

I propose a truce on this... particular battle. It seems to be impossible to score with any of the pieces, and the purpose of preventing Lord English's return is moot, as he is already here. I must confess, though, he is causing much less multiverse-scale destruction than I expected. His Caliborn persona is quite underwhelming.

wow this place got really active very suddenly

i know right

Giorno is sitting near a table observing the room.

YOU KNOW, YOU CAN STAND TO WAIT A FEW YEARS. Caliborn'd say, giving Doc Scratch a whack with his rifle. Naturally, this would not hurt him at all.

"Ey, in my defense, I was too busy working n such to warp back in here." Random would note, while shrugging.

Eires 'Dies Irae' Nada◊ opened up the door and walked in. Everything about them was, of course, exactly as I imagined; the blue and purple hair, the glasses sitting low on their nose like some long-lost style from a generation of hippies, beatniks, and punks before them, the torn and tattered beanie and flak jacket nodding towards a history unspoken.

"Oh, awesome, you made it. come on in, I've been waiting."

"What the fuck? Who are you?"

"We'll get to that. Drinks are in the fridge. Figured you'd want one."

Eires felt uncomfortable with the situation, but there was nowhere else to go, so they retrieved their drink (cherry cola, off-brand canned, just as expected), and sat down.

"Cigarette? You look like you need one."

Eires looked concerned by the offer, but accepted it anyway, lighting it and taking a characteristically long drag off of it even as I only just lit my own.

"I know this all feels strange, and it is. It's only in a place like this that we could meet. I just want you to know that there's nothing to be worried about."

"Cut the crap. Who are you?"

"Easy, Nada. I'm the author."

"What?"

"You're Eires Nada, also and almost better-known as 'Dies Irae' on campus for your...let's call it a particular temperament, around your peers, and your minor studies in Latin. I wrote you."

Eires stood, even leapt up off their seat in an instant, stepping back.

"What the hell are you talking about? The Author? What kind of bullshit is that? You following me or something?"

I held up my hands, expecting this sort of thing.

"No, god no. I should backtrack. I'm not The Author. I'm your author. I created you."

"So what, you're God?"

"No. I can't control things like that. I only wrote for you."

Eires frowned, but took another drag off their cigarette regardless.

"You're saying I'm just all in your head."

"Yeah, kinda. It's where this conversation is happening."

"And I'm not real."

"I...would say yes, and no. To me, you represent parts of me. 'The protagonist is the author as either Jesus or Faust.' I don't think you really have to imagine which one you are."

"I'm no fuckin' saint."

"Exactly. But I want to get to the point. You're not real to me, in a literal sense, because you're all in my head." I said, tapping my temple to illustrate.

"But this is all your fault, then, isn't it? The Suits, Marbury, even Sev! I went through all of that bullshit and it's all your fault? I got to do all that because you felt like it? What the hell's your fucking problem?!"

"...Yeah, I deserved that. I should apologize, but...you know that everything that ever happened to you only made you stronger, right? I was writing a character. Everything you went through was to make sure you'd be memorable, that you'd be as complex and interesting and as real as anyone else. But, I did pick that poison. That wasn't fair, but then again, it wouldn't be realistic either."

"And that's all you cared about? Putting me through hell just to be easy to sympathize with?"

"Can you fault me with thinking this conversation wouldn't happen? You wouldn't know any of this if you weren't here. Even with all of that, you wouldn't exist unless I was around."

"..."

"I shouldn't have expected any less." I started again, shifting in my seat. "Knowing you like I do, well!" But...all in all I wanted to let you know, out of everyone'' I've thought up in my head, you're still my own personal favorite, the most popular out of anyone else ratting around in here, and the finest individual to date that I've been able to conjure up."

I stood up, facing Eires on their own level.

"And, in a sense, I wanted to thank you for that. You're all in my own head, but other people can't see that. When I write you, any time, all people see, ultimately, isn't me and my thoughts; it's all yours. Who you are, how you think and feel and see and react to the world. you're real because they see you talking and acting and, all in all, being yourself. The people watching this....I suppose you could consider it a play, if you wanted. I know I sometimes consider my own life like that. Hm..."

I got lost in thought for a moment before Eires coughed, reminding me that I was certainly not alone in my thoughts.

"Whoop- I'm sorry. I was going to say, regardless of what we both believe, someone's always watching that play, and you're no less real than I or anyone else is, because you've come alive through your own actions. I could not have predicted what has happened since the name 'Eires Nada' popped into my head, and anyone, even myself, trying to reduce you to nothing but a character, would be an insult to everything you've ever seen, everything you've ever done or experienced. I wanted to let you know. I don't think I'm done with you yet, but I've never had anything but a happy ending planned."

Eires sat for a moment, still drawing off their light.

"Man, whatever. If that's how it is, and you're not just crazy as hell? Go fuck yourself."

"Let me get one more thing in."

"...Fine."

"Even with all that shit I put you through, I never let it break you. That's my return for doing everything else I've ever done. Go out and live. Don't worry about me or this fever dream you're convinced you're having or any of that. I wrote tragedy into the very fabric of your life story and I'll make it all pay off. Thank you for everything. Now go out and live. You've got the rest of it to see, and I have too much to write. I just wanted to stop here to at least say that much. Best of luck, Nada. I'll see you around."

Without another word, I breezed past them, towards and out the door. I always was terrible at good byes.

Eires sat down to think. They considered everything, finally finishing up both the cigarette and the cola. Grinding the former into the carpet when they were done, and the can on the arm of the sofa, they stood up.

"...What a load of bullshit."

Just as unceremoniously as they came, Eires Nada left, closing the door on their way out as they slowly marched through the times. Through my own thoughts and ideas. Through their life.

I appear, and take note of the cigarette on the carpet.

"Aw man.. That's gonna make the carpet smell."

tl;dr

I definitely listened to all of that.

No, you didn't. You were too busy scheming.

Why would I be scheming?

It's really annoying how you pretend to even think that I have the tiniest bit of doubt that you are Kira.

"To be honest, if he admitted it, you would have him arrested."

Who's this idiot?

He's nobody. Just a guy who appeared next to us, at the same time we appeared in this room, the lack of reaction to which I would find suspicious if there were any room for any more suspicion, Kira.

So who would die if you wrote 'Kira' in the Death Note?

Well, the rules of the Death Note clearly state —

Hush. I want to see what they say.

Ohhhhh! Right.

Hey, L, do you happen to have the Death Note we got from Yotsuba?

No, we'll have to use yours.

I don't have one.

I would ask you to stop lying, except that talking with you would get rather dull if you never spoke.

I glance around the extremely dusty and disused avatar room.

"... so uh... how about that weather."

"You could've done this in a cube, y'know."

"You're thinking of TM Sylvi, Vivi. I'm just regular Sylvi."

-There's a knock on the door-

I wave at the door and it opens.

"... you sure you're regular Sylvi and not TM Sylvi?"

"Okay, maybe I'm a little bit enhanced, but I'm hardly a Timeline Master. Or whatever the Murderverse knockoffs of Timeline Masters really are."

“Giorno is sitting near a table observing the room.“

A Small Kitten appears in his lap and mews because it’s confused,

“Is that my avatar?” I say just a tiny bit less confused.

-A diminutive girl◊ peeks from the doorway-

'Scuse me.

-One thing that becomes immediately obvious is how injured she is. Her left arm dangles limply by her side, skin stripped away to reveal its innards: carbon-titanium composite endoskeleton and nerve cables. That side of her torso is similarly pockmarked with burns and shrapnel wounds. It's almost like she was standing next to an exploding bomb-

-Despite all that, her tone is remarkably calm. There is no panicked voice, no sense of urgency, no ragged breathing— scratch that, she doesn't even breathe on closer inspection-

...Is it okay for me to come in?

"This sure is a quiet room. Not many people."

"No kidding. This place looks like it hasn't been used in years. Are you guys here to clean the place up?"

Edited by JankyKong on Jun 21st 2021 at 1:37:25 PM

My and Vivi's eyes both widen in shock at the injured girl at the door. "Yes, of course —"

"What happened to you, child?"

Well, it's a long story—

-Flesh (or at least a kind of flesh-like substance) rapidly grows back upon Vivi's spell, covering the exposed endoskeleton of her left arm. Within seconds the limb is restored to full functionality. She walks through the door dumbstruck as her injuries are magically repaired-

I— What? My wounds? How?