1
They both agreed to play the game together and what was lucky was this: He asked her for help to do it. His husktop was garbage, quite literally, as was befitting his status and she was good enough with computers that he didn't have to go and bother the gold blood. So he was with her when it all began to fall apart. Their legs quivered as they watched the sky break and flickering code begin to seep through the cracks. He shouted his rage at the sky in impotent fury.
When the cracks began to appear in him, she held him and silently wept, trying to be a rock for him in the face of such inevitable doom.
Sometimes, when she remembers it all, she wishes she hadn't been there for him.
3
She refused to play the game with him and what's funny is, he didn't even bother to ask. She came up to him, well into his personal space, before it even started to make sure he knew how thoroughly unimpressed with him she was.
She never thinks of him again, not even when the universe begins to crack and seep.
5004
She convinces him to play the game with her and it didn't matter.
As they stand at the base of the dread Universe at least their tails are coiled securely around themselves so they don't betray their fear with quivering legs like the still corrupted do.
It wasn't meant to be this way.
4
He convinces her to play the game with him and it almost matters. She's dedicated to her cause and any petty emotions are dust in the face of this noble purpose. He gives her the signs and portents and she keeps them close to her chest, her reaction giving nothing away.
There's a terrible inevitability to it all as the sky cracks and the universe crumbles.
401
(i'm tired of the responsibility. i'm tired of the facade of optimism. why doesn't she like me anymore?)
301
(I'll MAKE them all believe.)
5001
She convinces him to play the game with her and it very nearly matters.
When flowers begin to bloom in the All-Mother's cracks she holds his hand and wishes the Eagle had gifted him with a kinder fate.
She sends him messages, reassurances, compliments, offers to be a shoulder. His eyes don't change.
It's alright.
Space is patient. She'll show him there is more than one fate in store. Even if the Universe is a joke.
2
They both agreed to play the game together and there was no pleasure in it. It was all according to a long ago plan and fun simply wasn't part of their equation. He whispered stories of fallen friends to her and she held her fury in her heart like the seed of a massive crystal, needing only the right shock to blossom.
When the Life Giver betrayed their confidence and the All Mother's vengeance began, her fury remained cold.
When the sky began to crack, her fury remained contained.
When he told her how many legs she used to have, that is when it finally blossomed and as the cracks filled him up and took him away her silent rage was all the farewell he received.
302
(i barely exist, i need nothing i create, i use nothing i buy, i go through life neither seeing nor feeling, why go through these motions, im already dead. )
5003
She convinces him to play the game with her and it all goes wrong.
The vast frog isn't right. Meat and candy rain from the sky.
What is going on?
Is that a ...seagull?
Are they being sued?
501
(do...do i need to keep going?)
5005
She convinces him to play the game and it almost doesn't matter.
As the 🐥 blinks its massive eyes he takes her hand and there is new life in his eyes. Anything could happen from here, there is a new fate.
???
It doesn't end.
1
He had to know and he had to know and he had to know and he had to know.
He spiraled deeper and deeper into his own coffin. He never gets out.
1001
The knife sinks in with no resistance, and she isn't ready. She turns around to gag, and her stomach protests when the body doesn't move again. It's not like she meant to kill them, she tells herself, weapon shaking in her hands. But it could not be helped; it was them or her. She wasn't going to let it be her.
102
It's so funny to defend the Killer in court. A cosmic punchline finally understood, along with everything else.
It sucks, of course, to see the Intern upset about it... but that's funny, too, in it's own way.
She laughs and laughs.
2
He had to know and he had to know and the trail of breadcrumbs tantalized and drew him in deeper and deeper. Just a little more. Surely he was almost there. Almost solving the case of the decade. Catching a Killer using only the overlooked power of the World Wide Web.
He spiraled deeper and deeper into his own coffin.
2001
Their ritual knife hits her in the shoulder, making her stumble back. They don't see her pull out her blade until the second it's inside them, and when it's in, it doesn't leave. She slashes their stomach and cuts off fingers, plucks out eyes and wrenches out teeth. She hopes that for them, this is some sort of horrid forever: a death sentence stretched in all directions.
She feels the terrified gaze from behind a corner, and she knows she's succeeded. The innocent is free, at last.
0
They go to a new room. They look around. They go to a new room. They look around. They go to a new room. They look around. They go to a new room. They look around. They go to a new room. They look around. They go to a new room. They look around. They go to a new room. They look around. They go to a new room. They look around. They go to a new room. They look around. They go to a new room. They look around. They go to a new room. They look around. They go to a new room. They look around. They go to a new room. They look around. They go to a new room. They look around. They go to a new room. They look around. They go to a new room. They look around. They go to a new room. They look around. They go to a new room. They look around. They go to a new room. They look around. They go to a new room. They look around. They go to a new room. They look around. They go to a new room. They look around. They go to a new room. They look around. They go to a new room. They look around.
The Coffin. That is new.
It's important to finish off a path entirely before exploring any side paths.
So they sink into it, willingly.
3
He had to know and he had to know and when he traced the breadcrumbs and put together the clues and assembled the perfect Deck he hadn't expected to lose.
Life was surprisingly simple as a pair of floating eyes in an endless maze.
3001
The knife goes in. Blood comes out. A hundred knives inside a hundred bodies, the same blood pouring every time. She wasn't expecting to become so used to the monotony of it all. Perhaps she'll change things around, this time. Perhaps she'll even find that old deck of hers. The rules are very simple; the rules of this little game have always been very simple. The Hunters are bound to learn in no time.
304
She can't stop laughing as she uses her company to popularize the card game (that had killed who she had never been) as a tie in to Zampanio, twenty years before it was supposed to have been created. The only one to get the joke is her and the Killer and its nice to have something to bond over.
She hopes every single moment she enjoys life Nidhog is just stewing impotently somewhere outside of reality. Memes > Genes and that is simply the shape of this universe.
???
This is the story about how she is banned from ever practicing Nidhogg's Necromancy ever again.
The two had been spiraling endlessly with their back and forth. Usually in good fun, but this time, this time she took it too far.
The Killer couldn't be SAFE, couldn't be SURE if the victims were alive. So they had to die again. And again. And again. And again. To burn if dying wasn't enough.
Singular obsessive focus meets singular obsessive focus as the timeline begins to fray along the edges from overuse.
The end of the loop comes earlier each time. 2020. 2019. 2018. Until there is only mere years for her to finish her tasks before it all begins to unravel.
When the Intervention comes it is not unwelcome. Neither has been having fun for a long time but neither had been willing to stop. (When he brought the whole group together, he was nervous. Not used to conflict. To yelling. But he did it. )
No one expected the most loudly aggressive of them all to fix things. But in his hubris and posturing, the two found common cause.
Now the loops are different each time again, as Truth be told. After all, there are whole millions of ways to annoy him.
The candy was suspicious. Obviously.
Everything was suspicious.
But they had been by, the ones with the soft and trusting eyes and appropriately scared gestures. They knew the world was dangerous.
Perhaps they had left it?
Suspicious.
But the soft ones knew she liked egg. This was egg. Candy and egg.
And if it WAS dangerous...better she handle it. Cautiously. Than the soft ones eat it blithely and come to harm.
She ate a piece, and everything changed.
It was so simple!
Why be so scared? Why keep mortality so firmly in her mind when immortality was so easy? The colorful egg on her head makes her feel so very very safe.
Why hide away in darkness and silence?
She reaches out to the soft and trusting ones and does her best to show them that she can be soft and trusting too.
They have enemies? It's simple! They'll die! Now they don't need to be scared!
People will die until her friends aren't scared anymore and nothing could be simpler!
~~~~~~~~~~~
It was good candy, he’d admit. Not his usual cup of tea; it was too hard, too sweet, the taste still tingling at the tip of his tongue. He knew someone who might enjoy it, though, and it was only ever so neighborly to offer.
He took a piece, and everything changed.
It had always taken herculean amounts of effort to consult the Allfather on every decision. His presence was already negligible in the maze, but in that world? Her Whispers were no more potent than a ring in the ears, a buzzing one could only hear in the quiet. Well, why should he be letting that impede his mission? The way was so simple now. He didn’t need his god to reach him-- he needed to reach his god.
So they spend most of the time on the road. Evangelism is the only way to the sinner’s heart, he says- all dressed up in technicolor getup and candy pauldrons, mead perched to the side of his head. He doesn’t get much of the fanfare behind it, but it is only fair of him to encourage his roommate’s passions, as well as getting something to do out of it: traveling all the time lets him keep an eye out for his other self, which makes for a fun hobby.
He’s a better speaker than he gives him credit for. That, or perhaps his adonic physique inspires those of weaker will to listen more closely. Either way, it’s enough to convert a sizable band of potential little extremists into attempting to bring the will of the Snake closer to Earth to reward its followers with Eternal Life. It’s more a cult than anything else, really, but it at least gives him plenty of community activities to do.
And, hell, even after the high wears down, they’re still there, preaching sermons to an army of Mansons. So there’s still entertainment value, indeed-- even if he might not see it that way.
~~~~~~~~~~~
In the bowl was a few pieces of candy. Nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing suspicious.
She was only back to clear her head. Think things through.
Things made more sense in the maze.
She took a piece, and everything changed. The Forbidden TidePod on her head cleansed her thoughts and everything became so clear! So simple! Why PRETEND to be happy when she could be actually so very very happy?
She messaged him immediately and explained it all. Everything!
They could be together again.
Just like old times.
He sputtered and refused. But that was fine! She just went over and gave him candy 'till everything changed with the cinnamon bun on his head.
When things stopped being changed he almost quit his job.
Almost.
But he let her explain. For real, this time.
It would never be like old times.
But maybe, maybe together they could make new ones.
~~~~~~~~~~~
She usually made sure to not indulge in fruit before being rewarded with it; it’s in poor taste to indulge in what has not been earned, after all.
But this one was different.
She’d never seen candy trying to imitate fruit before. Or fruit trying to imitate candy? She wasn’t sure what the difference was, and part of her was dying to find out. Surely one piece wouldn’t be too much of a faux pas, right?
She ate a piece, and everything changed.
It’s better than anything she can think of. So sweet, so juicy, an aftertaste that leaves you wanting for more… she absentmindedly bites through her hand-- ah, she’s finished.
Strange. She’s always static, that she knows well, but she’s never been so many colors before. Her mind hasn’t stopped thinking about the fruit. It’s not fair that she can’t just eat it. Why doesn’t she, actually? It feels a lot better to just go with the flow, and do exactly what she wants to do. But there’s no more fruit here, is there? She supposes she’ll just go find more.
She eats the reserves in the office. When they’re empty, she raids the other fridges. Then those are done, and she gives a humble visit to the markets as well..
The farmers call it a plague. Locusts will ruin your harvest, sure, but they’d never seen their fruit trees torn asunder, an entire category of the food chain obliterated worldwide in the course of a few months. The ecological collapse is unlike any other seen in history. The rest of the world simply switches to artificial flavoring, and it’s fine, since it’s cheaper anyway.
She’s still not satisfied.
After raiding the last wild growth of melon sheltered in the bosom of the Amazon Rainforest, she stops to think for the first time in forever. What is she going to eat now? She is very competent at what she does, and she knows, deep in her soul, that fruit, for now, is no more- and will not be for a while, now that she’s made it massively unprofitable.
And then, she remembers a friend whose name she can’t quite remember, and a dimension where plenty of fruit with little faces and legs crawls around wild, expanding in all directions of their known universe. All she has to do to reach it is repeat what she did long ago.
She licks her lips, and then she’s gone.
~~~~~~~~~~~
The maze was, in it's own way, always the same. Nothing really to do. Plenty of things to SEE of course, that eyeball wouldn't shut up about THAT.
So when candy shows up in the break room, well, why not? There was nothing suspicious about it, and even if there was its not as if anyone can DIE here.
So she eats it and everything changes. The candy on her head isn't candy so much as its soap, but in this, of all places, it's the appearance that counts.
Why was she soooooo scared of everyone dying anyways? Why stay stuck and moldering in this maze when eeeeeeeveryone else gets to go out and have fun?
Beeeefore she goes, though...
She zips back to the paint drying room and finally, FINALLY forces it to dry. That girl is going to haaaaaaate this! It's hilarious! She takes another face as she scrawls a little note and places it neatly on the floor in recognizable handwriting. Too bad she won't be here to see the yelling start!
It's time to gooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!
She breaks through wall after wall after wall after wall until she stands blinking in the cold light.
Oh ho ho! THIS isn't back in the BeforeTimes now is it? Oh no, this is something *special*!!!!
She can WORK with this.
This is SO MUCH FUN! Why copy a BORING OLD HUMAN when you could be a giant snake or a smaller snake or a bird or a little animal person or a puppet pal. Sow confusion and mistrust and make everyone fight everyone else!
Every dies over and over and over again and its FIIIIIIIIIIINE! All you have to do is just not care and have fun!
Nothing could be simpler!
~~~~~~~~~~~
she kept plenty of weird shit around the office, and really, this was no different. Unknown candy sitting inside their fridge? Yeah, no, checks out.
But she was hungry, and what was she supposed to do? Well, may as well try it, right?
She took a piece, and everything changed.
Or that’s how it’s supposed to go, anyways. How are you doing, by the wahy? It’s okay if you can’t answer, I wasn’t reaaally expecting a reply anyway.
So yeah, the candy’s weird! It’s key_item_TRICKSTERTOKEN, which causes the condition trickster for the standard time of nine nine nine nine-- okay, I can’t type all of it. It’s actually written in scientific notation: 8.585 x 10^8, or eight hundred fifty-eight million five hundred thousand seconds, or two hundred thirty two thousand four hundred and seventy-two hours, which is nine thousand nine hundred and thirty six days, which is three hundred and twenty six months, so… twenty-seven years. Pretty neat, huh?
It’s been pretty nice! I got this little candied flower on my head, and I don’t feel bummed out, and mostly it’s all peachy! Turns out I had access to a javascript console the whole time, which was weird to find out. Who wouldn’t want the basis of their reality to run on javascript? There's so many ways to tweak the code! I’ve gotten to make a lot of math out of it, even if SOME people don’t appreciate me rewriting their cities into fractals. But it’s fine, they don’t have to! That’s the great part. Nobody has to like it.
And, I mean, maybe I haven’t been telling you the whole truth.
It wasn’t always that long, you know. The original time was just short of about a week, maybe less if it got interrupted, and hell it did- heartbreak, personal tragedies, anything strong enough to bum you out. So when I hit the wall, I just… tweaked the stats, and forced it again. Getting to enjoy the candy euphoria without all of the mania that comes with it has been pretty neat-o. I don’t have to care about the auditors, or about some company being legally sound, or anyone else’s feelings. Just about whether or not I feel like switching up some crab mating patterns to be mathematically consistent.
Who knows? Maybe you’ll come to like it, too. You ever heard of skirem?
~~~~~~~~~~~