There's a special kind of irony on making a sideblog outside of my main utdr sideblog to post about the guys pretending to be someone else. But hey that's what makes life fun.
Hi, You can call me Dice and I'm an adult. I made this blog because I've been really hyperfixated on the Mike trio and other related content and I don't feel like posting about that on my main.
I usually just lurk but would love to post my own headcanons and writing eventually.
Okay, probably just like, two or three of you. BUT STILL!!! My Mike visual novel "And Now... The Grand Prize!" IS FINALLY OUT AND READY TO BE PLAYED!! EEEEE!!!!
Called to the studio late at night, you're forced to play a gameshow, by Mike, to win the grand prize: Tenna himself.
Please check it out and give the thing a chance! Free to play!! Thank you!!
Hi! I’m the guy who wrote the Twine game this game is based on (A+ adaptation btw, feels narcissistic to love it as much as I do, obsessed with it), and I wrote an endings guide in my original fic, which lives here in chapters 2 and 3!
(As well as a link to a sequel… interlude… thing…)
The mechanics talk is of course no longer accurate, but I believe the options should still lead to the right endings? Let me know if they don’t, I’m going to be updating the fic anyway to announce this so I can tinker with the endings no problem!
The worst characters are the ones were you only get like three pieces of lore about them but the lore is so fascinating and hits your brain at just the right angle to have you behaving like a feral dog in front of your conspiracy theory cork board
tv world has a union but it doesnt work perfectly bc the mikes are now in charge of it. mike used to be the union guy too. now its like a fake union tenna puppets like a corpse and plays along with. battat as mike trying to steer tenna to stop doing workplace atrocities and also give the pippins a living wage. yes tenna, they will use it for gambling. no tenna, they still deserve to eat food. tenna likes bringing up union matters when mike is feeling pluey
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Words: 3,398
Summary:
Researcher bias occurs when the researcher’s beliefs or expectations influence the research design or data collection process An example is letting personal feelings, stereotypes, or assumptions influence research questions.
Or: A suspicious note on his theory board makes Battat question what his friends plan to do with him, and so he must investigate.
This is a fic I wrote for @kuvention for the Mikes Secret Santa 2025 organized by @mikesecretsanta. I am VERY sorry for such a late arrival. But it's here!! 3K words of these guys trying to be nice to each other while also sharing one braincell.
Full fic under the cut:
They had to be stupid if they thought Battat was going to fall for such a distraction so easily.
The darkner rolled his eyes at the new post-it, placed on top of his latest observation regarding Mike. It turned out a passing comment from Tenna had implied that Mike (the real one! Not to be confused with his well researched disguise).... Ahem, Mike had an affinity for radio. If Battat had to guess, this was actually quite obvious if one adhered to the microphone theory, which…
Right. The note. It didn’t belong there, he had to take it out before he lost his organization.
It was clearly Jongler’s. The ink on the note had uneven pressure, and the letters were big and overlapped with each other clumsily. Still, it took no effort for the Pippins to decipher it, having grown used to it on their shared notepad.
“What if… radio stood for radio waves. Microwave Mike.” He scratched his chin, then the absurdity of the idea made him jump in frustration, head almost hitting the edge of a shelf. “They’re not even the same wavelength! Can they not tell apart radio signals apart from those plastic-burning waves?” Thoughts of improper use of ovens on toys crossed his mind briefly, and he thanked the Lightners of this house for not having the terrible idea to try that out.
Battat felt his magic twist as he landed. This didn’t feel like a good shake. It was like the angered shakes one would expect when looking for a high roll that just wasn’t coming, all too common for him. He crumpled the note and tried throwing it to the nearest bin. The paper landed outside, as luck dictated, but as he picked it up, he noticed another note, on the back side of the sheet.
This time the handwriting was Pluey’s cursive. “Join us in the C rank room after tomorrow’s show.”.
Oh, of course there’s another layer. Should he investigate?
Battat went through Mike’s schedule, ready to find a task from Tenna that’d make the meeting impossible, and found none. Tenna was hanging out with Elnina and Lanino tomorrow, therefore he should be available.
Well, no he shouldn’t! It interrupted his research analysis!
At the bottom of a note read: “You can tell us about the holes in the microwave theory :3”.
Fine, he was falling for it. He couldn’t pass up that chance.
It was still off, though. What would they want out of him they didn’t already get? Battat was nothing more than their annoying boss– no. Leader. He wasn’t managing them, he just had the most knowledge about Mike and it was his duty to guide the other two for a convincing impression. Which they were terrible at, half of the time, he thought with a huff.
Back on topic, every so often Jongler would leave a note praising one of his ideas, and Pluey would add doodles of a part of his performance as Mike that the Shadowguy enjoyed. It didn’t entirely make sense that they could regard him with such respect, when there were times where their theories would be so outlandish he doubted they even cared. Surely these were just platitudes.
Battat had his suspicions. For the last few months, he suspected the two were buttering him up to… take over. probably. Or prove him wrong. He kept close watch on them. Unfortunately, as perhaps one of the few Darkners unable to blend in, whenever he spied on them he often ended up being spotted first, and so he’d have to try and make conversation.
It was like the game he played when trying to get information out of Tenna. Just be nice, give them what they want, and keep the conversation going.
It wasn’t a fruitful exercise, but he wasn’t about to give up. Instead, the Pippins became fluent in saxophone melodies, and knew more about cowboys than he ever intended.
He knew there was something off in the attention they gave him. They tolerated him too much, and seemed to always be ready to see him. Surely that’s why they were so stupid when it came to the Mike charade, they had to keep that up on top of dealing with a loud, neurotic die who would make their lives worse by his presence.
And besides. Pluey and Jongler were a couple. Don’t couples always win in stories? Through the power of love or something? He didn’t fit in all that. Couldn’t.
Battat placed the note inside a folder he had in his inventory, unlabeled. All other notes they had snuck on his board over the past few months were there, out of sight of the conspirators. He made sure to slip the last note behind one that contained a drawing of the three of them smiling together. Better not put the most suspicious clues on top.
He didn’t know whether he would attend. The chance it went wrong was high, but he could also investigate what his coworkers were planning, and he could use a distraction. He’d let the next shift as Mike decided his fate.
One of the benefits of working as one of Tenna's bouncers was being able to wander into areas others would not be authorized in without batting an eye. Both of Jongler's "jobs" in this Dark World took them to corners that often went unused. Sets for shows the family rarely had a reason to tune into, but that Tenna wouldn't let go. Some were decorated after past hobbies the Dreemurrs were no longer interested in, while others were adapted for Darkners who would come into the World as guests, but belonged elsewhere. Empty spaces, as well, for those Darkners fated to follow a specific Lightner’s path.
It's also true that Zappers were especially prone to getting lost, and Jongler was no exception. They could remember some of the sights they visited, but being able to return reliably was a challenge.
Jongler really wasn't great at directions.
Fortunately, Pluey was.
The Shadowguy grinned as he pointed to one of the sets, which looked identical to all others to Jongler.
"Yous for sure knows its dis one? Never been' here. Dunno if I's able to return without help." Jongler hopped closer, but their gaze scanned the other doors in the area. "Can I get a look?"
Pluey shook his head, as he rested his body against the door, blocking the entrance. He sang a melody, covering his eyes and then pointing towards Jongler.
"A... surprise?"
Pluey tooted in affirmation.
That made their body spark with excitement. Though their plan was mostly to surprise their boss-turned-friend-turned-date, it seemed Pluey had a few ideas hidden under his sleeve. Jongler had one of their own, tucked well in their inventory.
"So it's ready?"
Pluey placed his hand on his chin in thought, not unlike Battat would, Jongler noted with fondness. The Shadow took a peek inside the room, and shook his head.
“Not ready… Needa hand?" Jongler offered.
Pluey shook his head again. He tooted, making a quick melody with a few popping notes. He placed a hand on his wrist, which Jongler understood as "Give me a second".
The Shadowguy went in and out of the room in more than a second, but Jongler really wasn't counting. When Pluey came back out, a beeping signal on Jongler alerted them of their little remaining time before today's show ended. Shortly after, the beeping grew more desperate.
"Battat's playing with the button?”Jongler inferred with concern. “Or he's in a rough spot with da boss.," they added after reconsideration. "Let's go."
In a rush, they grabbed Pluey and pressed one of their buttons. The room flashed, as the two were transported back to the Green Room area. A couple of Pippinses who were chattering to each other went quiet, the clinking of points coming to a still.
"Hows it going?" Jongler greeted casually.
"It's… just going?" The Pippins hid its hands behind its back. "Tenna's getting a little cranky waiting for the weather section to finish off, I guess."
"Aight."
"You heard nothing, okay?" The other Pippins winked.
"S'all good, all's good." Jongler put a hand on their back, somewhat perplexed, but quickly shrugged it off.
Another beep came from the communicator both of them carried for their other job. The Zapper gave it a look, and saw a message reading.
"Shift's over, heading to the C rank room."
Pluey's body tensed up, he took off his hat in apology, signaled he was going to finish something quick, and pointed to Jongler to wait for Battat in their meeting spot. They nodded, making their way with quick, somewhat clumsy bounces.
It was only when they rested by the Watercooler that Jongler realized something important.
"Hows am I s'posed to teleport back there?"
Pluey didn't show it, but he was beyond nervous.
Out of the three, he was able to carry himself the best, always ready to perform. Plueyful, one could say. It was exhilarating to improvise for a stage performance, but it was much more of a rush to orchestrate a surprise for his dates. Everything had to come together nicely and time ran thin. Perhaps he should've spent less time figuring out yarn physics on his break, or making adjustments to his cat suit, Pluey mused as he rushed towards the Green Room.
Today marked the anniversary of the secret the three of them shared. An encounter caused only by chance, but which elevated their fates beyond those of common Darkners. One could argue straying away from one's purpose went against their beings. A figurine is to be a device for a bigger story, a remote is to find the right stage to perform, and a die decides not by principle, but by the circumstances life throws at them. But in a world like this, a figurine can choose what role to play, a remote can venture beyond the confines of the stage, and a die can seek meaning in the chaos. Imagination is a form of freedom.
But that’s a thought for the shadows lurking around.
In practice, Pluey simply loved the spark Jongler and Battat brought to his existence, and he wanted to show them just how much they meant. Words don't come easily to him, however. His kind communicated in melody, and as good as a listener as he was, Pluey needed some help to put his ideas in order and make something better than background noise.
Which means it was catastrophic when the Shadowguy realized he had lost the music sheet he had prepared for them. And the treats! He also left the treats he totally legally looted for them to share!
He could make a quick run to his room, or the backstage area, or even ask that creature in the shadowy corners of the studio as a last resort.
A discussion could be heard from outside, completely thwarting his plans.
"What do you MEAN you're betting on that? A date? Where are you getting this? The fake news channel?"
Battat.
A muffled voice could be heard snickering, replying something.
"That's none of your business! Scram." The door was slammed open, showing Battat as he sighed, his joints rattling in frustration, while the two Pippinses from earlier stared with eyes wide open. "Hey, Pluey."
That seemed to make the one on the left nudge the other with their elbow, as if to say "Told you.”
Pluey paid them no mind, instead tilting his hat in a friendly greeting, and whistling a melody. "Hey, are you okay?"
He noticed he trilled off tune, mentally shutting down the observation that Battat could tell him apart from other Shadowguys.
"I'm… normal, yeah. These BOZOS," he said with an emphasis that made the other two giggle, "are apparently saying we're dating and you have something big planned tonight." Pluey wished he had a tail to wag timidly, if only because it would add to the situation. "So, are ya? Is that what's going on?"
"Yes? No?" The Shadowguy tooted hesitantly, happy to add suspense.
"See? Not even he knows." Battat shrugged.
"No spoilers, huh?” It smirked at Pluey. “At least tell us tomorrow, greenie", the Pippins to the right added.
"If there is one." Battat muttered, as he walked straight to the prize hallway, going past Pluey. The Shadowguy saw one of them wink at him as he followed his date.
No time to look for the sheet, he concluded. At least he still had a room prepared for a night of drinking and playing games. Jongler could take them there in no time.
The Watercooler hovered out of the C rank room in a rush, blushing in embarrassment. The Mizzle within blurted out something about needing some beauty sleep away from their noise. Pluey found the room as lacking as usual, but now Jongler and Battat stood on opposite ends, the former rubbing their hand against the back of their head, while Battat ranted about the ridiculous requests Tenna made for his midshow break.
“Heya, Pluey,” Jongler seemed to relax in his presence. “You’s got it all ready?”
“Ready for what?” Battat’s arms went still, going stiff as he recalled there was a reason for their meeting. “Why are we here when we could meet up in the Mike room? That’s where I keep the board.”
“Uh, dats not what we’s doing, pal, no.” Jongler went serious, but the twinkling infrared light on them betrayed their own uncertainty. “You can recall the place right?” They turned to Pluey.
“Wait, hold on.” Battat intervened. “What was the note for then?! We have important things to discuss!”
“We do? Oh your theo— Ah, can’t recall anything like dat.” Jongler lied poorly.
“You almost had it, rubberbrain! Of course it’s about that thing you put on the board!”
Battat materialized the folder out of his inventory, and picked one of the post-its. It depicted a doodle of the three of them smiling. Upon closer inspection, Pluey noted that Battat was drawn taller than usual, and his edges were somewhat rounded. Pluey also noted a hint of cat ears on his head, and Jongler had a bandana wrapped around them.
“Did you make this?” Pluey sang, supporting his melody with hand movements.
“What? Uh.” Battat turned the post-it around, then shoved it back into the folder. He blushed. “Nevermind! Nothing to look here!”
The Pippins shut the folder, but more pieces fell on the floor. He scattered to pick them up, using his body to cover the incriminating contents. Pluey recognized some of them. He was unsurprised by the fact Battat kept them, but was still intrigued about his reasons.
“What is that for?” The question had a hint of excitement. Hopefully Battat wouldn’t be intimidated out of telling the truth.
The die looked to his sides, eyes fixed on the door. “If you’re going to kill me or rat me out you could do it now. You tossed me around enough.”
Pluey was left speechless.
“Why’s we kill you here? It’s just da meeting spot.”
“So you’re doing it elsewhere? I can see right through this scheme.” Battat stood on his heels, failing to make himself look any taller. “You two have been all nice and sweet with me, what for huh? What’s in it for ya?”
Pluey deflated. Battat pressed on.
“Yeah! You guys act like idiots on the job and at first I thought that was just your poor acting abilities, but that didn’t make sense! You are both so skilled in other things! Pluey can improvise like no other Shadowguys I’ve seen and you Jongler, you.. Ugh, you always know how to handle heavy stuff. And somehow even the troublemakers respect you.”
Battat began pacing around the room.
“So then I concluded you feigned incompetence! In order to sabotage me! But if that was the case, then—”
Pluey interrupted him with an amusing melody. “No, we are a little stupid.”
“But what about all the notes? The compliments? Isn’t that also part of your long winded scheme?”
“We’s… You know, we, like..” Jongler mumbled, flustered.
Pluey had enough, planning be damned.
He walked the distance between him and Battat, and grabbed the die, whose arms thrashed to free himself. He went towards Jongler, and pressed some of their buttons with the right channel.
However, before the magic took place, Battat’s fist managed to press another number.
“Uh oh.” Jongler felt dizzy, as the three teleported out.
Their feet were cold. Really cold.
The shift in atmosphere had Battat going still. In his stupor, Pluey dropped him, letting him fall face first on the snow.
“Are you kidding me!?” He punched the ground.
“Boss, pal, Battat…” Jongler tried speaking.
“This isn’t where we were supposed to be...” Pluey stated, notes long and deflating as he spoke. He turned to the Zapper. “Are you okay?”
“Eh. Need a rest a bit before I do ’nother one.” They shrugged. “Sorry for ruining it. I shoulda just been better prepared.”
“Not your fault”, Battat replied, sitting up. He shoved some of the snow off his poncho. “I pressed your buttons.”
“No problem, I was not sure where to go. Dat was Pluey’s idea.” Jongler looked down at the Shadow, who looked away. “I’m sorry.”
Pluey hid his face behind his hat, and stayed in that position, to the point one would think it was his purpose to stand still. Which could be the case for someone else, but not for Pluey.
When the silence became too loud. Pluey began a melody of his own. He conveyed tension and expectation, as well as careful timing, which became rushed as he went on. His hands moved in tandem, adding to the image. He finished with a motif he has practiced plenty before. A question, more of a confession.
Battat stared back, wide-eyed. “So it WAS an actual, proper date. You’re not plotting against me.”
Pluey shook his head.
“You two actually mean it.”
´Pluey nodded.”
“Okay. I…” Battat went oddly quiet, what he was thinking seemed hard to decipher.
“You’s theory was wrong?”
“Don’t say it like that, big bozo!” Battat crossed his arms. “I did consider it! I thought it was just a case of researcher bias.”
Pluey wished he had ears that could perk up. “Have you thought about us that way?”
“I already told you what I think about you,” Battat scoffed and looked aside. “But… maybe, yeah.”
Pluey reached to grab him again, this time wrapping Battat in a hug. Jongler joined after, lifting them both up off the ground. Warmth contrasted nicely with the cold around them. When they set them down, the Zapper spoke.
“I’s… brought something. We could share some. When I get better we can go to da right place and all.”
Out of their inventory, a box with a metallic wrap materialized on their gloved hands. Pluey and Battat reacted in recognition, but seemingly for very different reasons. A cacophony of “YOU TOOK THEM FROM MY ROOM?” mixed with “THOSE ARE CHOCO DIAMONDS”.
“Sorry, Pluey.” Jongler lowered their head, embarrassed. “I guess I did. Took a lot from your room last time by mistake. Looked like batteries back then.”
Pluey let out a few short, amused notes and added. “I found them while looking through Toriel’s groceries. I never tried them, since the Pippins usually snatch them.”
“You have no idea how good that chocolate is, do you? Card Castle somehow always has a supply.” Battat traced a claw over the box. “This is already a top tier date. Expectations surpassed.”
“Yous thought we were killing you. I says it’s a lot better.” Jongler tilted their head. “We’s can… pass the time?”
“Yeah, why not?” Battat’s eyes were still glued to the box. “What else could we do?”
Pluey kneeled down, movements swift and silent. He prepared himself, and his hand made an arch as he threw a snowball, hitting the tip of Jongler’s head.
“Hey! Hands off da snow!”
Pluey smiled, grabbing his tommy gun and shoving cold projectiles inside. He aimed for Jongler again, but shifted to hit Battat at the last second. It was a clean headshot that sent the Pippins’ head spinning.
“PLUEY! Not fair!” But he giggled
They paid no mind to the sheet of paper with blurred writing on the ground. What needed to be said was already done.
Ough I'm sorry to the person running the secret santa. The fic is partially written actually. I've gotten through the better half of it and it's more than 1k words long. But the soonest I can dedicate an extended period of time to it is this thursday. Hopefully I can finish it nicely.
