purple cracks their knuckles, stretches as they yawn. ugh, monitoring screens is so monotonous sometimes. they check their watch, and then groan; it's 9 in standard time already, far too late to grab dinner. the kitchens have closed by now. they'll just have to grab a big breakfast the next morning, they think, and wince as their stomach audibly gurgles.
well, there's nothing to be done about it. purple scoots the chair back, stands up, steps out of security, and--what's that?
there's a plate on the floor, covered in tinfoil.
purple picks it up, unwraps it. uh. it's, not dinner. it's cookies. they look further down the corridor. there's a thermos. they pop the lid. milk.
what are they, santa claus?
purple takes a gulp anyway, bites down into cold chocolate chip. they can't be picky.
the plates keep coming after that. sometimes purple doesn't make it to dinner, and sometimes they do, but when they miss it there's always another plate of food and a thermos of milk. the food is different every time but purple gets the distinct feeling the person behind it has a very limited palette. dino chicken nuggets. mac and cheese. cereal, for some reason. a pb&j with the crusts cut off.
but food is food, so when green pops their head into security the day after the pb&j purple thanks them. green just looks confused.
"plates of food?" they say, and shake their head. "no, security officer purple! i haven't been--oh, but do you want me to? everyone back home always said i made killer bean soup--"
purple waves them off, puzzled. they think.
five minutes later, they storm into the cockpit, incredulous. "it was you?"
red jerks guiltily, nearly drops their controller in the middle of their scarlet-chan route. they fumble a button and scarlet-chan's heart meter drops to zero. "what--" they say, and then, with bravado: "yep, that's right! all me! all captain red, captain of the skeld!"
purple's visor goes flat.
"can you, uh, explain what i did, though," red says. "hypothetically. so i can hear it!"
"you have the diet of a kindergartner."
purple can see red's brain work in active time. "ohhh," they say, and then, "hey! there's nothing wrong with chicken nuggets, okay--"
"just... don't," purple says, running a hand over their face. it's obviously red, they should have known; even back during their internship they were cutting the crusts off their sandwiches. but it makes no sense. "why?"
the way red immediately flounders is not promising. "well, i, uh--im captain! of course i need to make sure my crew is fed," they say. purple just waits until red squirms and adds, "you missed dinner the first time i called. so, so i figured i'd get you something, if you forgot."
purple--remembers that, actually. they'd been figuring out the security system still, and red had sidled up to purple suddenly with something about dinner, and of course purple didn't mean to miss it. but they hadn't wanted to go down with red, so they'd resolved to come down in a bit and then--well, purple wasn't good at letting problems go. by the time they'd figured out how to fix the shoddy connection to the medbay camera it was already midnight.
it's almost sweet, really. if this was from green, purple would already have thanked them, maybe gone down and recruited yellow and brown to teach them something in the kitchen that had a more balanced diet.
but it isn't green, and purple can already see the way red glances at them, waiting for some kind of awe, that continuation of the way red had cornered purple the first pizza night out: i'm captain now, don't you think i'm great?
"just send green down if im not there in ten," purple says with a sigh, suddenly weary, turning to leave. "and go talk to blue about vitamins if you havent already. you need more vegetables."
So do you think the among us beans or whatever they’re called have people who go by she/her and he/him for example and other pronouns? (note this uses logic that every game is canon and people stating their genders in game, this is just a theory)
uh, you mean like, as neopronouns? bc amongi don't have gender the way we do, so they wouldn't really have our pronouns. well i mean i guess that depends on whether or not you think that they'd come up with those neopronouns in that specific pronunciation, and what that would describe to them in their own social constructs.
what does gender look like to an amongi? do the words he and she even exist in their language? i mean we have languages on earth that don't have gendered pronouns. how likely would it be for them to come up with he/him or she/her when they could easily come up with something else like idk, er/ems? what meaning would that hold to them?
the every game is canon and people state their genders in game is going over my head sorry. ive really only been playing around in what ive seen from the among us show so if youre trying to include real life games idk how i'd add that. confusion
I can’t stop imagining space rebel purple’s crew just blasting pirate music and doing pirate roleplays on their ships and purple is choosing to ignore their silliness in favor of their help in being space rebels (also purple probably provides a variety of food instead of just pizzas, I believe purple’s rebel group is just a giant worker’s union who steals from Mira)
resistance against mira and their complete control over supply chains go!! and YEAH i think itd be like purple getting together a bunch of more remote planets and getting everyone into a whole big coalition. and then mira is kind of isolating any groups who join if they catch wind of it so its also up to purple and co to organize transporting some more critical supplies, figuring out food for some of the planets that can't sustain agriculture, that kind of thing. their first goal is establishing what would essentially be better occupational safety laws and workers comp. a ton of data is obscured so there has been a LOT of "hi if youve ever worked for mira can you please fill out this survey" going on in the past few months.
purple is like, 99% sure the other beans are placing bets on if purple will wear the hat to a negotiation meeting with mira slated for next month? theyre not, obviously. they think its sweet that the others are having fun but they made a point to let them know not to take it too far.
(navy scrambles to hide the replica sword they've been working on in their closet)
god the sincerelysamedt imposter red and purple au is on my mind rn. so busted. imposters that cant kill the last crewmate my beloved
why kill off the last crewmate when you can agonize over the memories you have of them instead. not even yours and yet you've carried on the torch of whatever bullshit neural connection was in the meatsack that came before you. you can't eat them, can't even fathom killing them. ghosts haunt every interaction between the two of you.
so you rage. you stew. you wish. maybe if you take them apart youll finally muffle the weak, pathetic craving beneath your skin? bodies don't need hands to live. visors are optional. hurt them because they deserve it, and maybe if you peel back enough layers of skin, of veins, of fat and flesh, it'll be satisfying enough, brutal enough, to shut up the wailing in your head.
but you can't escape your own brain. and all you can do is want and want and want and
Impostor Red makes me feel. So goddamn insane. Every attempt they would even try to make on Purple's life, they can't push through with. You're the only smart Crewmate left. I should have killed you first.
And that makes Red angry. Angry at this weak host body, themself, Purple for making them feel like this. Like if Purple dies, Red has to follow after.
You hate your host for being this pathetic and you hate your host for the yawning abyss between you and the one thing you want so bad you can't even touch it. You hate them for not letting you close, I'm not them, I wouldn't do what they did to you, I'd choose you, I'm choosing you now, let me in, let me inletmein—
If this is being alive, Red doesn't know why everyone wants it. It's torture.
AGH theyre so jealous of their host it's sickening!! this is what they get for accidentally cannonballing into the worst relationship ever. WRONG PICK OF BRAIN! red hates that they want it so bad. they want purple a bloody pulp, and they want to want purple be a bloody pulp (it's not working) and purple keeps replying in those short clipped sentences, and the entire connection between them and the host was a flaming wreck but they can't help but be bizarrely spiteful that they're not in it anymore??
they don't even like their host but hypothetically speaking if they were red back then they wouldnt have fumbled. just saying. for the record
god the sincerelysamedt imposter red and purple au is on my mind rn. so busted. imposters that cant kill the last crewmate my beloved
why kill off the last crewmate when you can agonize over the memories you have of them instead. not even yours and yet you've carried on the torch of whatever bullshit neural connection was in the meatsack that came before you. you can't eat them, can't even fathom killing them. ghosts haunt every interaction between the two of you.
so you rage. you stew. you wish. maybe if you take them apart youll finally muffle the weak, pathetic craving beneath your skin? bodies don't need hands to live. visors are optional. hurt them because they deserve it, and maybe if you peel back enough layers of skin, of veins, of fat and flesh, it'll be satisfying enough, brutal enough, to shut up the wailing in your head.
but you can't escape your own brain. and all you can do is want and want and want and
I feel for space rebel purple au (which is cool as heck) purple is just in a pirates outfit eyepatch an all because they’re practically a space pirate stealing from Mira
LOL purple probably wouldnt care. i get the vibe purple just wears whats comfy and esp if theyre a rebel hiding out on planets they arent going to be too fancy about it, maybe a jacket at most. but i bet one of their ragtag fellow rebels would think itd be hilarious for them to wear something piratey. give them a hat with a crossbones embroidered on it. (no skull, I guess, bc amongi dont have skulls!) whats purple gonna do, say no to the one guy who put hours into it? have a poorly drawn picture to accompany this visual
an eyepatch, though. this opens up a whole new can of questions. do amongi have eyepatches? their entire visor is their eye. i think eyepatches are a cosmetic option in the game actually. what is it covering, a visor crack? how fast do visor cracks heal really
instead of white steering the ship into an asteroid they full on crash into an uninhabited planet.
there's no comms, orange is freaking out over the ore+ and red is making everyone recover as much as they can from the crates. white is moaning about missing some ceo dinner reservation. lime has declared a state of emergency and disappeared into the vents (nobody's seen them since). everyone is looking at green because green is from a Worm Farm, so they know how to rough it in the wild, because a worm farm is basically the wilderness, right?
how long does it take until things devolve into the lord of the flies
day one was them going "alright everyone. i, as captain, will help set up the shelters for the night." and then immediately wrecking their setup. blue has to pick up the slack
day two was them going "alright! everyone!! i, as captain, will help make the fire for the day!" and then frantically rubbing on two sticks of wood while black disgustedly goes into the wreckage of the storage room, emerges with a magnifying glass, and gets a pile of ore+ fueled flames going
day three was them going "ALRIGHT EVERYONE. I, AS CAPTAIN, WILL HUNT FOR FOOD", loudly over purple's unimpressed "don't we have enough food supplies for a couple months?" then going to a river to stab fish with one of the branch-spears lime set up the day before, and stabbing themselves in the croc. they rush back into camp, limping, and abruptly burst out "we have to vote on who's going in the oven first."
ough you cant do that,, my worldbuilding sleeper brain has activated.
but do amongi even have brains/nervous tissue to spread kuru?? i didnt see a brain when blue got their face removed. there was just a bone. and theyre part plant, they have flowers on their backs! so like, theyd be susceptible to plant diseases right? how much of them is plant, exactly? is it a mutualism thing where its the plant living off them and theyre the host?
i cant go down the worldbuilding biology rabbithole rn
Stranded au red is just speed running cannibalism like they’re trying to get a world record whilst the crew is eating pizza at the pizza oven
rule number one of red in my mind is that they always fail whenever theyre trying to be cool. and them trying to show off their captainhood instead of worrying about actually doing their job is them trying to be cool so naturally they always fail.
this ofc leads to them trying to assert their rank in the stranded au by doing various Cool Important Things to Save Their Crew but failing at all of them. the crew may have food supply but in red's mind they have to catch a fish with their bare hands or the crew will STARVE. no fish from red? NO MORE FOOD ANYWHERE AT ALL. WE DRAW LOTS
The first time it happens, Black wakes up in their cheap MIRA mattress drenched in sweat, the phantom sensation of pain sending shivers down their skin.
What the hell did I eat last night? they think, heart going rabbit-quick with adrenaline. There was some dream they had, something about aliens...
Black doesn't have time for this. They get out from the covers and swipe their collar off the bedstand.
Work is the same as ever, even when it's the day before a month-long space haul: too many tests, too little equipment, and no appreciation for scientific rigor. Orange is breathing down their neck for the Ore+ quality approval. Cyan is as spacey as always, absorbed in some bogus tarot reading for the day, ore and minerals scattered around them like candy.
"Black, look!" they say with a little gasp at some point, and Black has to glance up from their combustion tests with a groan; they've been using a stopwatch and estimating because, again, there's no fucking equipment, and Cyan's interruption means starting over since they've lost count. The card they wave in Black's face is, in Black's perspective, the same as all the other cards Cyan bandies about, and Black waves it off irritably.
"What, Cyan?" they say, annoyed. "I was in the middle of something," and they can see Cyan falter, but Black doesn't care: they've met Cyan for all of three days in the prelaunch spaceflight training and it had only taken an hour for Black to wish they hadn't.
"Well--it's the Chariot," Cyan says, and smiles, hesitant. "It reminds me of you! So when it showed up in the reading today, I knew the universe was telling me it wanted you to know--"
"How about you save it for after the launch," Black says, flat, and goes back to their stopwatch.
(They wish, later, they had listened to Cyan, opened up to them more, but it doesn't matter. The ore, the eggs, the goo--none of it matters now, as the vent beneath them jumps with each reverberating, powerful clang, force denting the metal, rattling the bolts, and then--)
#
The second time it happens, Black sits up and pants, shivering, unsettled. Their room is still dark; the posters they've plastered against the wall undulate in the corner of their vision, shadows stretching across the tiny bedroom.
Slowly memory filters through, dreamlike: the slow dwindling sensation of being hunted down, one by one. A bone, gleaming, in freshly spilt blood. And then pressure, so much pressure--
Dragging themselves from their bed is significantly harder.
Eyeliner. Collar. Wallet. Keys. Black goes to work.
It's an exercise in deja vu, except work always feels like deja vu to begin with. It's the day before their first long-term space flight, and even then it's all the same: testing, crate-moving, shortened lunch time. Orange is annoying. Cyan is useless.
"Black, look!"
Black sighs. "What," they say dully, and watch as Cyan visibly brightens at the first sign of encouragement Black has given them the entire week. They wave a card in the air, one of many identical artsy, stylized--
No. Black squints. They recognize that card.
"The universe is listening today, Black," Cyan says. "It likes you! You should make a wish, like I did!"
Just like that, the moment's over.
"I wish we had more funding," Black says, monotonous. Cyan carefully repeats their words in a whisper to a lighted candle, as if the universe really is listening from little sticks of wax. "And that I'd get some help on the combustion tests," Black adds, watching Cyan jump, guiltily, and rush to grab a clipboard.
"Sorry! The tarot reading ran late--"
"None of its real," Black snaps, unable to help themselves. "What does it matter?"
Cyan goes quiet.
"You made a wish," they say.
Black scoffs, turns back to their stopwatch. "Yeah, and you really think just because of a couple cards we're going to magically get a grant headed our way?"
A brief pause, and then Cyan says, small: "I made a wish. I wanted..."
They trail off, hunching.
Black sighs. "It's not real," they repeat, and then the two of them finish the rest of the testing in silence.
("We did it," Black says softly, laying a hand over a book. There's--an inkling of deja vu, the ache of something that could have been averted. A sour taste alongside the satisfaction. They don't grab their glowsticks.
They wish they'd known Cyan more, they think, with a sense of vague familiarity. They wish they'd listened.
A shadow emerges over them. Black tenses, recognition spiking deep in their nerves, even though they've never been fazed by the dark. They turn--)
#
Black wakes up and dry heaves over side of the bed.
A mass of flesh and teeth, the wet suction of lungs collapsing. The clammy touch of a limp, dead hand, poking out beneath a sheet. Cyan was--the aliens were--
Breathe. Goddamnit Black, breathe. It's not real. It's not real--
They forgo the eyeliner and run for the loading area.
Cyan is there already, laying out their little crystal collection a good forty-five minutes before work. Black didn't know Cyan showed up that early. But what did Black know about Cyan to begin with? They'd been avoiding them the entire time.
They slam the door shut behind them, ignore the way Cyan startles and knocks over an unlit candle.
"Black?" Cyan says. "Is something wrong?"
"What was your wish?" Black says, after a moment of aching, deep breaths, just to feel their lungs expand and contrast, alive alive alive. Cyan is frowning in a thoughtful way, curious but open, and Black remembers that the sun hasn't even risen, Cyan hasn't wished anything yet. Yet? Ever? It's a dream, all of it had been a dream, but--
"I haven't wished for anything."
Of course. It was a stupid question. Black nods, and then Cyan adds, shyly: "But I was thinking of one, in case I could!" They pause, watching Black, but Black doesn't say anything.
"I'd wish for all of us to be friends," Cyan says, a little quieter, fiddling with their necklace. "That's what the wish would have been."
Black can still taste the rot on the back of their tongue, the gurgle in their throat as they failed to breathe in nothing but blood.
It's impossible, of course. Science disallows it.
But science, at its core, is a bunch of tests. And Black has plenty of ideas.
Alright.
"Cyan," they say, taking a seat. "I need your help. Can you show me what you're doing?"
Later, Black will try to explain whatever the hell has been happening, try to put it into words. Later, the two of them can debate over what to do, figure out a solid plan of action, nail down the slippery remnants of Black's dreams into something more solid.
But for now, Black watches Cyan's face light up like a sunrise, brilliant, and settles in to listen, just like they wished.
cyan offering to read people's palms in the first party they have together as a crew. nobody really takes them too seriously but red is captain so after cyan kind of gets disheartened by black's naysaying they offer cyan their palm and ask them what glorious things they have in their future as a captain, how sweeping and grand their fate is, etc. except cyan gradually reads their entire life story with pinpoint accuracy and red starts breaking down into a wreck
thinking about space rebel purple now. tiny fast spaceships they designed themselves. purple has a whole team. they go to planets mira abandons or slams with an embargo and organize them. planetary alliance against mira. brown and yellow would be proud
nobody will hire them. their funds had emptied out quicker than they'd expected, even when they'd kept the heat off and limited showers to scrubbing with a bucket of water and soap. they keep getting calls, too; unpaid rent with their landlord, college debt piling up, loansharks and dealers smelling blood in the water. and there's no way for purple to do anything about it, because they literally cannot make money!
so.
mira doesn't own everything, purple knows. a good healthy chunk of the known universe, sure, but not everything. there's the isolationist systems, of course, but getting into one of those is like trying to squeeze through a brick wall. then there's the little planets mira's locked out of their supply chain for declaring that they wanted higher pay, or slightly better safety laws, or some say in their local legislation. purple had only found out about those places after their internship, looking up other cases similar to theirs; mira keeps a tight lid on the press.
but neither of those can be reached by ordinary spaceflight, what with the isolationist restrictive policies by the first and the mira-enacted flight ban on the second. so there's really only one option left, and that's the outer sector; the start up areas that mira has left alone for other smaller companies to fill up, waiting for them to develop the space a little before snapping it up for themselves. mira does business there all the time, little investments here and there. there's gotta be ships going out there.
purple sets their phone down, still open to a flight tracker app, and looks around. the plaster is crumbling, a bucket in the bathroom collects water dripping from the ceiling. the only reason the ants have stopped showing up in the kitchen is because there's nothing there anymore for them to eat.
it's not a hard decision. purple comes up to their fish tank, bending to come face to face with heracles, and smiles as heracles bubbles back.
"hey, buddy," purple says. "what do you think about becoming stowaways?"
instead of white steering the ship into an asteroid they full on crash into an uninhabited planet.
there's no comms, orange is freaking out over the ore+ and red is making everyone recover as much as they can from the crates. white is moaning about missing some ceo dinner reservation. lime has declared a state of emergency and disappeared into the vents (nobody's seen them since). everyone is looking at green because green is from a Worm Farm, so they know how to rough it in the wild, because a worm farm is basically the wilderness, right?
how long does it take until things devolve into the lord of the flies
day one was them going "alright everyone. i, as captain, will help set up the shelters for the night." and then immediately wrecking their setup. blue has to pick up the slack
day two was them going "alright! everyone!! i, as captain, will help make the fire for the day!" and then frantically rubbing on two sticks of wood while black disgustedly goes into the wreckage of the storage room, emerges with a magnifying glass, and gets a pile of ore+ fueled flames going
day three was them going "ALRIGHT EVERYONE. I, AS CAPTAIN, WILL HUNT FOR FOOD", loudly over purple's unimpressed "don't we have enough food supplies for a couple months?" then going to a river to stab fish with one of the branch-spears lime set up the day before, and stabbing themselves in the croc. they rush back into camp, limping, and abruptly burst out "we have to vote on who's going in the oven first."
Is red going to crash the ship after that whole thing with blue?
nah i dont reckon so. red is a mess but they can lock in and be a captain when the pressure's on, and even beyond that red is like. all they have IS that captainship. they traded it for purple. id say if purple was leaving red would invest even more heavily into the "look how good i am as a captain" copium tbh
