HOLDING A SMALL??? ? ?
SMALL. SMALL PALM REBOOT. SMALL. TOO SMALL?? ? ʜᴏᴡ iss sᴏ such sᴍᴀʟʟ?
SO SMALL? TINY. ITTY B҉̖̻I͇̲̝̱̙T͔͉͔ͅTY.
ITTY B҉̖̻I͇̲̝̱̙T͔͉͔ͅTY BOOT :]
We ought to go somewhere nice. Fun. Someday. Maybe not a horror game. Any ideas?
Mmm… <:( That would have been fun to visit.
I FOUND IT„ I PEEKED IN, and I COULD FEEL THEM ALL
MY SELF-CONTROL IS IMPECCABLE„ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ʷᵃᶳ ʰᵘᶰᵗᶤᶰᵍ˒ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᶤᶳ ᵈᶤᶠᶠᵉʳᵉᶰᵗ
hUNTING LAST NIGHT, I FOUND A CURIOUS settlement
A VERY LARGE ARCADE, so MANY GAMES. FOUR FLOORS OF THEM! QUITE THE TOURIST ATTRACTION, for playerss, TO VISIT.
AND IN TURN, sprites! ssOME LITTLE… ENTREPRENEUR(s)? CRAWLED INSIDE A STAFF COMPUTER, MODIFIED? NO, CO-OPTED, A SIMss GAME. MADE A HOTEL, USING THOSE IN-GAME EDITORs.
THEY HAD CRE̛̺A̧̜̖̱T̫͙̝ED a VACATION RESORT FOR SPRITEss. HUGE BUILDING. BUSTLING! SHOPPING MALL, POOLs. full of little, fun things. ᵇᵘᶳᵗˡᶤᶰᵍˑ ᶜᵒˡᵒʳᶠᵘˡ
EVEN JUST USING PRE-MADE TOOLS, AND LITTLE ɪғ ᴀɴʏ ACTUAL C҉̯̻Ọ̥̖̘̲̕DING…it is NOT COMMON, TO SEE SUCH A THING. TO SEE SPRITEss THINK SO FAR OUTSIDE THEIRʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ʙᴏxᴇs. IT WAS …CUTE ,̳̭̹̻̥,̗̘̩̣̳,̨̥̯̜̲̱̯̟,̳̭̹̻̥,̗̘̩̣̳,̨̥̯̜̲̱̯̟,̳̭̹̻̥,̗̘̩̣̳,̨̥̯̜̲̱̯̟
BUT IT WAS BUSTLING, with such LIFE, HEARTBȨ͚̖A̟̠̟T̜S AND cROWDS AND content AND
I A҉TE IT
I CAN NOT BRING MYSELF TO FEEL r̫͉̪͚r̜͉ͅEMORSE, I WAS SO HUNGRY, and it all crunched so nicely IN MY TEET҉͕̭̫̼H, ᴍʏ ɢʀɪɴᴅᴇʀss ᵃᶰᵈ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʳᵃᶰ ᶳᶳᵒ ʷᵉˡˡ ᵃᶰᵈ ᶳᵐᵃˡˡ ᵃᶰᵈ ᶳᵃᵈ
SO I COMMEMORA҉TE ITS MEMORY, WITH THIS POST :] A MEMORIAL! FOR A fun ssNACK~
(( "I didn't ask to be torn apart and put back together again." ))
"So this…thith is IT, huh?"
King Candy cleared his throat. The room was dim. It was the kind of room that swallowed the light, that would probably stay dim even if you pumped a hundred-megawatt spotlight into it. It was the kind of room where people lurked. It was a room with stains on the walls, and the nicest thing you could say about them is that maybe some of them weren’t blood.
There was also a half-eaten plate of cookies on a table, near the used plastic cups of nightmare fuel, and a motivational poster of something smiling with too many mouths.
"Welcome t tt to Pasta-A̠͙͕͎͕̜̱no no nono n̞̤̘̜o̧̻n̡͖̞̥̠̤̼͖!̶̰̗̣” [:D] Evil Otto’s smile remained omnipresent even as his sprite flickered and fritzed on and off. A few grasping hands, stick-thin and twitching like the legs of a skewered insect, occasionally jutted from his left eye. His mouth was an upturned cresent-moon, all pearl-white like a polished bone with no actual visible teeth, and instead of just opening and shutting like it should have done its shape warped as he spoke. “Isn’t it just really nifty?" [:D]
"…uh, YEAH. Sure thure." The King’s good eye darted around, nervously. "Tho, ‘ah, why’d ya bring ME ta deal with this~? Isn’t thith a HIVE job? Or-or for RE~boot? Hoohoo~"
"Well, ya see, actually getting to this place can be really tricky! So you did a great job!” [:D] Otto fritzed a grin like a hook. “Besides, if Volume or Reboot’d have died getting here, King Turbo wouldn’t speak to me for weeks!” [:S]
King Candy sputtered, and stared, face blanching. “What, I-I-I could have DIED-“
"But you didn’t die! But you will eventually! But that’s OK!" [:D] "Hey, wanna hear the date of your death?"
"…no, hah, no Otto, I-I don’t.”
"Well, I’m just gonna have to gut the pig keep that one to mys s s̭̦e͟l̻͇f̴̫̟̗!̯͈̭͎” [:D] A couple of robots, blocky things modelled after the ones from Berzerk, tottered into the room to clean up. One of them had a loose panel near its ribs, and it leaked the blue lifeblood of a sprite. King Candy’s stomach growled. “Besides, you have a question for him, right?” [:D]
"I know L O T S O F T H I N G S sins against god, ya big silly!” [:D] “Now, I’m going to Freddy Fazbear’s to say hi to some P p humans!, but I’ll be back soon to lock up, ya hear?” [:D] Otto floated to the King, bouncing eagerly. “C’mon! Hug me o͙̳̗͇͟ͅu̡͍͎t͙̖̠̤̭!̨̮͚̻̭”
The little sprite bumped his tarsi, with an eager little grin. Sighing, King Candy gave him a quick hug back, patting him on the head awkwardly.
"The contract is sealed!" [>:D] "I’ll claim Ṯ̹̠̱͜H͔̯̱̰͍̰̯A̧͖̘͍̳̼T̹̳̦ ̰̹̳͇̦͕ͅo͓n̰͈̣̜ͅe in six months! Good luck!” [:D]
"…wait what what CON-"
Otto winked happily out of existence. King Candy stared at the spot where he’d been, for a few long moments, before looking around.
The robots whirred, and clicked, and bled some more as they finished up their menial tasks. The walls breathed, and a cold wind bristled at the back of his neck. Shadows pulsed inward and outward with the walls, shadows like starless voids. And in one corner, at the back on the room on the left, the taste of corruption was so violently tangible that it reached up to the back of King Candy’s throat and clawed.
He was there. He couldn’t be anywhere else.
Slowly, the King moved forward, and the back wall moved away from him. It took a few more miles than it physically should have done, of crawling through darkness on your belly and ignoring the whispers above your head, before he actually got to him.
The great beast was slouched against the corner of two walls, which was creaking with the effort of holding him up. King Candy stooped, the broken joints in his far-too-exposed neck whirring, and tried to look into Creeper’s - King Turbo’s - eyes. They were looking somewhere else entirely. Perhaps into a thousand worlds. Into a thousand dying eyes. Creeper wasn’t much of a person, anymore - he was a line on a graph, running through points - from death to death to death - on a cold, mechanical basis.
"Hey." King Candy chuckled, nervously, and waved a hand in front of the little alternate’s face. "Ya THERE~?"
There was no response. Not even a flash of teeth, or the hiss of a seething volcano. King Candy cleared his throat, and pressed on.
"I…well I can thee you’re BUSY. Hoohoo." The bug adjusted his bowtie, nervously. "So ya know I can go back and tell VOL~ume and RE~boot and THAL~mon and so on that you’ll be there soon e~NOUGH! When ya FEEL like it!"
No response. He hadn’t really expected one. He shifted, and felt four feet tall again.
"But, you know, Otto had a POINT. There WATH something, that I meant ta ASK you."
"You theem ta have done the BEST out of ALL of us. So FAR." King Candy averted his eye. That suffix had been a bit of wiggleroom for his own pride. "So ya know, how the NIGHTTH can be, you’re UP all night THINKING a-and when ya get back ta sleep there’s LAVA-"
He stopped, and shivered, and cursed Wreck-It Ralph’s name inside his own head for the three thousandth time. He swallowed, and looked into Creeper’s face. His tone was painfully, painfully earnest.
"What happenth? Eventually? Does it stop?”
Creeper’s hand lashed out, with no effort at all, and caught the King by the throat. He gagged, and tried to pull back. It was like fighting against a black hole, except with less leeway in terms of density.
Slowly, slowly, Creeper sat up. King Candy could HEAR the wrong animation as he did so - he heard a thousand shifting coils, and the rub of chitin on chitin, and skittering legs. Creeper’s eyes blazed, and he pulled King Candy’s face so close to his own the miasma nearly rotted his face off.
King Turbo spoke quietly. He stared into the other man’s soul.
Thank you so much for tagging stuff it's really nice of you!!!