I've never written for this thing before I'll be honest so uhh sure, gender neutral mostly in third pov, lel
“Okay— let's do this.” they breathed, hands steadily typing away at their keyboard, eyes fixated on the screen before them as the re-tellings of the infamous myth "guest 666" had formed throughout most of the titles they picked at.
they let out a frustrated sigh— a stupid fascination when they'd be able to force their time into something more productive, something that seemed more ideal at the age they found themselves at, graduating college was one thing; working in a studio as a coder was another, but being a basic human being was mandatory.
body slumped forward, (name) realized how dawn had crept up upon them, the time seemed to be mocking them— ticking towards six, sixty-six am.
pushing their chair back they forced themselves up together and watched as their computer shut, strange as it seemed full battery when they had left it— they could hardly remember. It's been a long night.
Sometimes they nestled in bed, in their delirium they felt the saccharine touch of a weird sensation that did it's best to manifest fingertips, never quite matching human skin.. Body now reaching for the comfort of their mattress as they wished to settle for the day ahead— a perfect Sunday to lay back, and waste away.
it felt the world had other plans— as they collapsed their body fell through, forcing them into a descent of code, feeling a strange sensation curl around them, a face nestling into their neck almost demanding.
there was no words shared, but the horror in their face was enough to make the entities faux heart beat rapidly.
lately, the myth had grown bored simply observing plenty others, til it found them of course— a weirdly routine human who so happened to enjoy it's myth the best.
in silence the entity grew to watch them study the lines of code that worked it's very figure, eyes churning in delight at the realization someone could have such a want to know, a need to pick them apart.
as the dawn cracked, they knew they could wait no longer to tug their favorite into this strange digital realm, a world where it would only have the opportunity to see their face, their face that'd twist into expressions it could never fully capture trapped in their current body.
"You..- you are—" The name felt tight on their throat, the entity pulling away to stare at them, a piercing gaze of crimson met their eyes.
"You.." They spoke, the pads of their fingers reaching to touch, the entity moved it's head, allowing them a feel of it's jaw, padded tips gently drawing down till they held its chin. "Fascinating. . ." Said them, the person they obsessed over, that interesting individual who reciprocated it's interest.
what a delight— they'd never know the amount of victims they've had to test to get it right, to learn to pull a body of matter into the digital realm where they'd become omnipotent.
always so intelligent, but always so dense, it thought of them.
so perfect, the clovers leaf surely turned it's favor toward the entity.
it spoke through their head, ‘say my name’, it whispered, hands touching the others face, ‘I'm as real as the scum that believe I am dangerous.’
they watched in awe as the red eyed figure spoke to them, a symphony of voices echoed in their mind, ‘say my name’, they beckoned, and like a trance, they succumbed, “Guest— Guest 666.” they whispered back, like a secret being torn into the surface.
they watched the entities eyes shift, almost mimicking elation— fixating on their face.
lowkkkany king in yellow lovers out there this is for you lelelel
X reader but they aren't referred to direcltt and it's mostly gender neutral terms!!
the folk spoke amongst one another, hushed whispers and whisps of many that spilled the tale of the ruler of gold— many feared the warnings, a being who was once was, who is— and who will be.amongst the folk, stood the few who had never believed such fiction, excitement dawning upon them as they had snuck off to the steps leading towards the castle of the "myth", amongst them, stood out the most cautious of the bunch.
they aided the others, tending to those who struggled within the gates of gold, the whole palace itself a winding tunnel of paths and hallways leading into different views and sceneries, a magical sight to the group till they had all split into their separate scenes.the first few of them, succumbed to the forever mindless church, plentiful turned lacking as they roamed mindlessly, endlessly, and forevermore repeatedly.
three, however, had stumbled across the final gates, opened— beckoning them forth, as if a warmth lulled the trio further in.the temptation strong as the first two rushed ahead, with one staying behind to turn to the many tapestries of gold— failing to realize they had been left all alone by the individuals they had come to call companions.
“ you carry yourself with such a haste— yet, your precautions have certainly not gone to waste, ” the sound startled them, eyes seeking the source as it continued, powerful, and controlled— " For as long as I've lived, I've understood every palpable feeling, every vessel, every twitch of flesh that laced the world's surface.
”"But never—" it stopped, leaving the person confused till their body stilled at the touch of a hand around the back of their neck, curling around to hold it, the voice now behind them; dangerously clear, ”—have I ever stumbled on such a specimen you've turned to be, at the hands of the most powerful, you stand; stiff, and calm, yet—" a low laugh rumbled from behind them. “so nervous, trembling — frantic."“ a puppet of gold — oh how I'd enjoy such a wonder, you would do so delightfully, yes?""fret not— your answer needn't to be said."a hand curled against your jaw, slowly craning your head to witness the figure behind you.
" For your answer never mattered to begin with —""This won't pain you, I promise." cooed the now formed king— a figure shrouded upon gold, fabrics curling and nestling against the mass of the being, the dance of the strings that bound you— leaving you helpless as the infinite broke your mind through— enveloping you into the reality, the self awareness; the vision, the understanding— the crushing, overwhelming, unbearable knowledge that seeped through like a vice into their mind, numbed the senses they had.
It was amusing to watch them drop limply like a doll, leaving the figure to curl the strings into its palm— raising the newest addition to the collection of gold, perhaps, the kings favorite addition.the golden eye of the ruler fixed on the puppet—like individual, the hand of the being caressing the cheek of it, before beckoning it forth to go on and sit idly to await his return. The King had itched for a new being to study, to pick at their mind despite the destruction of it.
I've seen a lot of debate about this topic when it comes to the prototype being a child or not because of how the story plays out and who it's revealed as in the actual story
I've had my own thoughts and theories for a while but I've never really shared them to the general public
^ I haven't properly looked into all the tapes as I've been watchin strictly YouTuber gameplay so if I make any mistakes you're absolutely free to correct me on it
Anyway
Ollie / Oliver was still Elliot's son He WAS Part of the process in becoming the prototypebut his consciousness separated from the body once he became more machineI believe if he had succeeded in creation and didn't turn into what he did today he would've been a 'Jack-in-the-box' hence the jester - like attitude, he can't be a *clown* because clowns only *act* they don't typically use their words to properly display meaning, unlike jesters who's whole gimmick was to not only act but also instruct / speak to their audience to garner some sort of reaction out of them while attaining immunity^ if you think about it, Elliot is the *king* in this case, because Ollie / Oliver was the Jester who could do *no* wrong and would've been defended otherwiseif I had to guess it was Elliot's guilt seeing his own son become 1006 that caused him to keep him around instead of dismantling the prototype immediately, along with The Doctor, Harley Sawyer gaining interest right after when Elliot eventually passes and he discovers the prototype^ Harley was *around* children, he grew with playcare and became a genius at that, which is why he chose children as his source material, ecause the mind of a child is an unpredictable mess, and knowing how competent and tact the prototype had been *with* the knowledge that it was Elliot ludwigs former son Oliver, he kept it around even further and wanted to study him like he was not humanBecause to Sawyer, he wasn't human at allHe was just another toy, another cog to the machine he thought he oiled the gears of to keep it runningWhich is why the fact Sawyer is locked by a Television makes him so powerless even if e still has the smarts to continue onMy educated guess is that because of the fact a child's growing mind had been used to start 1006's production, it had Eventually developed how they wanted.Think of people born on leap years, they can grow into adults but can be aged as a childI believe it is similar to the prototypes casewhile the processes IS one of a childs parts to make him, he had manifested and developed further into something differenthence why he is labelled a monster with "No Soul"
I believe the prototype, can be considered a child, or an adult in this aspect— ageless, not really there fully in the retrospect of aging unlike the rest of the toys because it has grown into something so vile that labelling it just as a monster does it far more justice than being called a child or an adult
Children's minds can be nurtured and developed with time especially with guidance, but that leaves the naiveté of living, which is why some of the orphans used in the experiments haven't got a clue about what actually happened to them
in hindsight this is a mindset the prototype doesn't display to have
It doesn't fit an adults either believe me
most people run off of empathy, which is why Preston Willard collaborated with a few others who aren't properly stated to free the toys, being blissfully aware of the hour of joy until it actually happened
In a more sillier term, the prototype had been on chess, while everyone had remained in checkers
An adults mind has developed, but hasn't evolved fully and it's why we as humans strive for knowledge , but the prototype doesn't do that unless it has goals, and as far as he's concerned, he's succeeded in almost all of them (with the exception of allowing poppy to continue to live with the prototype through Eternity since as toys they cannot technically die)
although that's mostly my view on it, everyone has different takes or interpretations of the whole thing and as a character I think MOB Entertainment did a really good job in displaying a villain without any actual empathetic traits to others, at least not in a caring, or loving way, but in a more sick and vile light instead
while I strongly believe 1006 only did that to trick the toys, I believe the only person it ever actually felt an emotion of, is poppy
their proper dynamic as ive seen it as Oliver and just poppy is yet to be decided, because I have yet to see all the tapes and don't actually know if the two ever interacted outside of the conversation Oliver has with Elliot where we know they've met and spoken before
closing this I really think I like chapter 5 the best because of it's revelations and lore especially with the characters, everyone did an outstanding job!
. . short blurb fic of 'NO MORE INNOCENCE' the sonic exe!! more specifically, makoto, his human disguise!! this is meant for my best friend, who is the sweetest, sweetest person ever GIGGLING
❞ INFORMATION
. . The press was scorchingly hot, Sonic 2 had recently been dropped in Japan, and local game stores were plastered with that familiar blue Hedgehog that both children and adults alike had come to feel comfort in. You were no stranger to the world of gaming, but your funds at the moment laid a little low. Perhaps this would be one you'd need to skip out on for now. That was until you met him, Makoto, delicately decorated in a suit like it was tailored to his very body. Black fabric clung like a vice, hungrily lapping up every curve of his frail figure. His face bore restless nights, but his words were sugared, a tongue spoken of sweet honey that dripped cooing pleas of compliance when he offered you a cartridge for the newest game. Something was off, terribly so, but such a devilish man had appeared to you as a saint from heaven. He made your mind swirl, your head spin, it was as if this man knew your every bubbling thought before you yourself did. Make no mistake, such an unseeming angel would do whatever means necessary to get this game into your hands.
----
The quiet buzz of civilians brushed past you for the somber of it all was due to the fact it was getting much later into the day. You were hurrying home, getting off of your job at a local Café not too far away from your living place. Your footsteps were one of the loudest things on the otherwise empty sidewalk, an orange and rosy set of bubbly clouds tolled into the ever-expanding sky, gracing your dewy and tired eyes with a soft hue that felt warm to your vision. You hummed with relief, basking in the light that kissed at your skin. Your thick, messenger style bag hung low off the dip in your shoulder, bouncing with each and every step off your hip. You were still in your workplace uniform, a style of deep brown pants with tight upper shirt that clung to you quite fittedly. The clothes were snug, comfortable enough to sleep in, you reckoned.
You found yourself now alone, alone to skitter across a desolate pavement. A gamestore was sat amongst the peace, the windows of its entrance decorated in posters with all the latest games or consoles. There, you saw it, Sonic 2 on the Sega Genesis. You were never a Sega fan, never paid much mind to any of its titles; but your friends surely were. They gushed about such franchises, and often times, were mind boggled at how you yourself had never been much into the games at all despite calling yourself a gamer. You let out a low huff; for even if you never played, such constant praise made you wish to try. Your luck was short. However, your money was awfully low. You'd need to skip out on this game, at least for the time current. 'Could be a waste of my money, hell, I barely even know the concept.' Your words hung out strung to an empty audience; people who weren't there, ears that did not exist. You simply shrugged and promised yourself to look back on the purchase some other time when your funds suited better for the ordeal.
It wasn't until a few moments had passed you realized, you were being followed. This man was decorated beautifully, practically gift wrapped in such formal attire; your mind could only conjure he was some sort of bustling businessman. His face only ushered your theory to the very most forefront of your mind. He looked older, nothing in a demeaning manner, however. He aged well, messy hair slicked back into a low hanging ponytail and his complexion darkened; a careful stubble just under his nasel. You hadn't even realized you stopped dead in your tracks - drinking in the sight of the man like he was sweet ambrosia sent by the gods. Hadn't realized until he spoke out. That voice that reached your ears shook you awake, snapping you out of your dizzying delusions. 'I couldn't help but noticing you eyeing Sonic 2, no? Why not make the purchase?'
You've never been questioned on not following through with a purchase, so the whole notion made your head reel a bit. 'Uh- I just. Don't have the money for it at the moment.' You measly coughed out, clutching the strap of your bag that sat idly by ylthe curvature of your leg. 'I'm sure it's a great game bu-' You were almost immediately cut off. 'It is. A hallmark for it's time, expending on the lovable cast of characters all have come to know so very well. What isn't there to love, mh?' You knew so little of the game and all of it's entirety, but the way he paraded it to you made you feel like you had known the games since their very release date. You opened your mouth to speak something, another word to defend your case, but he sensed this; further his monolog. 'I don't care for your money,' his tone dipped, a little sharper now. 'Consider it a gift, from me to you.'
Free? It sounded fair to good to be true. Like the moment you gave in, accepted your desire to submit to his plea, he would do something far more vile with your guard dipped down. You couldn't help but stick to your original query, shaking your head. 'No, no I'm sorry, I really can't. Busy with work, don't have much time.' Your voice was a little meak, only a little nervous at being persuaded in such a manner. He couldn't help but gently coo, something faux, something darker. 'That is a pity, pity pity. I happened to have one last lonely cartridge, with your name written all over it.' He purred with a gentle insistence in his tone, to which you idly just looked away, readying yourself to move further back. That was until, he moved in, his dress shoes making careful, almost silent footsteps toward you. 'No, sorry I c-' A hand, a bare palm itching to your body.
Your eyes never dared to meet his, not with such a heightened sense of proximity, the exposed flesh at his fingertips dancing lines up your shoulder blade, you wanted to roam free; unchain yourself from the grasp of the beast, but he never let loose. You were nothing more but prey, swaddled by the apex predator you knew as nothing more than just a businessman. He could taste your hestistance on his tongue; a delicious melody of nerves, he reveled in the disposal of the continuity of your settlement, washing the waves of neutral comfort whisk off you the more he closed the gap. The game never left his hand. You just so happened to remember it existed when you felt it be pressed to the direct center of your chest. A soft thump of it pushed towards you. 'I insist,' he began, a gentle snarl in his speech. 'Take it, I can guarantee your enjoyment.' His tone sounded demeaning, authoritative in a way that almost scared you - however, in some regard, you felt compelled to obey. Like you were a puppet to him, his fearful little plaything.
Even with such pradle, such consistency of his coaxing purrs and whispers, you had to say no. Something was cascading your better judgement, like some guardian from far off telling you this wasn't a good idea. He was dressed too well, this whole scheme felt so wrong, yet so sinfully right. Such a small action of being persuaded by this man of authority felt like dealing with the devil, and you were nothing more than his blissful dancemate. 'Sir, I can't. I can't accept it from you, I'm sorry.' Your voice grew a bit of an edge to it, something more to back up and mask the growing nerves. Your gaze narrowed to slits as you took a step backwards, being the catalyst to his prior smile faltering to a halt. There was a stammer, the game tightening in his grip as he pulled away.
There was a taunting chuckle, low and off-putting, like the very chasm of its wake left a voided space in the crevice of your stomach. He used his spare hand to slick back the mess of black hair that bore atop his cranium, catching drifting whisps of ravenette locks that kissed at his forehead. After the laugh, there was silence, something far more intense than before. It was sickeningly palpable, carrying an overbearing dead weight. Your legs began to feel heavy, like they were made of concrete rather than flesh and bone. You wanted to hiss at the individual that stood across you, wanted to spit out at his stubborn persistence - such an irritation, he was. He crept in, again, closer than once prior. The closeness making you dizzy. This felt unreal and uncanny; like the man before you was something inhuman. You wanted to scream, wanted to protest the unease building in your abdominal core - but the feeling of his fingertips caressing your waist and drawing you in shut you up almost entirely.
His breath reaked of pungent caffeine - likely all the hours at work, you had to reckon. It made your nose shrunch at instinct. You could help but scoff at the proximity, moving aside a strain of your hair from your face to better observe his complexion. 'I typically don't act so forward with all I meet on the street, I must admit,' he sneared, voice dipping down low to one of sweet honey. 'You make it impossible not to come close. All your insistence.' Your lips twisted to a soft frown; curving dowmward to express the awkward and unease within you. His hands worked like magic on your skin by just holding you. There was a firmness behind the gentle grasp at your waist. His calloused fingers tracing circles at you from above your work uniform. Everything in combination was far too much; far too much for the innocent dizziness of your own mind. It was like his older man was burying himself so deeply inside your soul he could call it his own. At this point, you were willing to do anything to sneak away from him. Yet, you still were denying the game.
He smirked, oh was he a victor. It was as if Lady Luck herself had dealt him a winning hand; though, he knew this little charade was always his game to win. He purred close to your ear, seemingly delighting in how your body reacted to all his teases. 'Fine. I'll leave you be. Hurry home, then. It's getting late.' Really? He was letting you go? Your overstimulated mind didn't hesitate to scurry off. You straightened yourself up, adjusting your clothes. Your heart almost aching at pulling away, how odd. He muttered something - something in Japanese, something you just didn't quite catch fully. However, this outing was more of an oddity than you intended it to be anyway, so you made no mistake in giving a quick bow before paddling off toward your humble abode. Something in you wanted to take one last glance at such a gorgeous man. Something was off. A flicker - a spark of something so sinister that no human mind could conjure up the telling of it. Your mind, tired and overwhelmed of sense, just had to be playing tricks on you, right? It was no human. You doubted it was an animal, though it bore a slight appearance to a familiar hedgehog. Black and white, with hollow eyes and a mouth; or well, holes, of void. However, just as quick as you had seen that grotesque imagery, it was gone; all that stood was the man from prior - a cocked head and an almost impossible smiling, waving you farewell.
Finally you were at home, safe from anymore strange beings outside. You wanted rest, you needed sleep right now more than anything. You couldn't even hold the thought of changing out of your work attire. You stumbled into bed after tossing aside your bag, falling to your stomach in blissful defeat, allowing the comforts of an empty bed to swallow you whole - to cushion your bed from any further stresses of the day. Though, try as one might, you couldn't sleep. Your night was spent tossing and turning through your own sheets; only accompanied by the annoyed huff or groin from the situation. Your minx was absorbed to it's fully extent of him, that man. Hell, you hadn't even caught his name. So handsome; so insistent. You couldn't tell if you wanted to push him away or bring him close if he were here. Not to mention that flicker you had seen - what was that? That macabre of a Sonic, is what you could describe it as. So much time your innocent little mind spent on consuming him, you hadn't even heard the soft thud of something hitting the floor. A small cartridge; Sonic 2, for the Sega Genesis. You had been so caught up with his coaxing and sugary touches, you hadn't even noticed the way his fingers slipped it right into your pocket. To it's rightful owner. You only noticed it when the sunlight had rose, the start of your day off work.
Do you dare playing it?
I mean, come on, you said no all this time, right?
