Eve6262

I write fantasies of gods who sleep in sullied burrows, waiting and writhing, forever in sleep. She/They. Taking commissions.

[eve6262]

hi! just wanted to let anyone who likes to read original content that I've started a blog named The Silken Theater (@thesilkentheater). updates mon and thurs, with short stories occasionally connected. also has a sister account on twitter but I just post the link to posts there.

~Eve6262

[marshmurmurs]

@eve6262's yaeko

[eve6262]

happy birthday komaeda!!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65133379

I'm a little late sadly T_T I meant to draw something, but it took much longer than I wanted it to and I wasn't feeling it. I did get possessed the moment I started writing though, just didn't have enough time in the day.

~Eve6262

[eve6262]

Happy Birthday Celestia Ludenberg!! here's a little celebratory sketch in my work outfit this morning. sorry it's so rushed, I got called in due to someone else calling off :(

[eve6262]

happy birthday komaeda

Someone sits on a ledge in a ruined city and thinks about jumping.

The fall is deadly. His body has always been weak, frail and untrustworthy; even his own luck couldn't save him. There's nothing soft down there, harsh edges and rusty rebar tempting him into a fate guaranteed. Few things in his life have been guaranteed, and something about that promise feels comforting, like it's the one thing he'll always have up his sleeve.

In his mind's eye, he jumps. He falls. His imagination has always been lively, but for some reason, this part is blank. "I die" is the only thing he can come up with- the image eludes him. He's scared, maybe, of truly seeing it- the same thing happened when he was kidnapped, mind hazy and gone, wondering: "what happens if he forgets to feed me?" He doesn't want to remember that.

He remembers it anyway, because the one thing the cancer refuses to take his is memory.

When Kamakura looked at him, he thought he might implode. Not for the reason the others thought- something about hope and despair and a name that tastes like sweet poison on his tongue. Not because he was infatuated, even if he is. Because Kamakura looked right through him and saw whatever vines twisted a thousand times over his heart and had the gall to say, "What was the diagnosis?"

He already knew. Komaeda doesn't know why he asked. But he did, and Komaeda answered, and then he huffed, turned on his heel, and walked away.

(That wasn't Komaeda. That was Servant, someone who doesn't exist, a shell of a person.)

Are the children looking for him? He doesn't care, and they don't care; this is a moment to himself, while everything falls apart around them. Monaca could manage on her own if she wished; there's a cruel boredom to her smile, but no matter what anyone seems to think, it's different. There's something hollow about it, something lonely, something sad. Something like the look in his own eyes when he smiles in the mirror.

And Towa City is at least calm. Already destroyed in some sense, largely intact in another. So of course he ended up here. There's no battle for him to fail through or politics to ruin. He just has to sit here, and mess up whatever job given to him, and be laughed at.

He thinks of a serial killer and writer sharing a body and laughs.

He thinks about Kamakura and stops.

He thinks about jumping.

---

"Komaeda, are you sure you're okay?"

They're sitting in a room together. Outside Future Foundation headquarters, but not far- they want to keep tabs on the group, considering heavily whether they'll be let in or not. Some are a given- Fuyuhiko, Hajime, Sonia. Others are questionable- Mikan, Teruteru, himself. Komaeda isn't sure what the suits think, but he imagines Hajime will be staunch about it, and he'll be let in as the group will. Even if he's only a patient for Mikan to fuss over when there's little to do, that's fine.

He has never minded being just a body for the machine. As long as the machine is working towards good ends, he can be a nothing gear.

"Of course. Don't worry about me."

To be specifically accurate, Hajime is half-sitting half-laying in bed, blearily looking at him from across the room, as Komaeda sits at a desk on a laptop. He woke up an hour ago and wanted to be busy with something, anything as a distraction, and he keeps the apartment spotless out of the same urge. But there isn't much work anyone piles onto him, so he's just sitting here, wondering a bit aimlessly why he opened the accursed thing.

Why he woke up is irrelevant, really. People wake up at four AM sometimes, it's nothing strange.

(He remembers stale wind and red skies, and a building, and thinking about plumetting. Except, in his dream, he actually falls, and falls, and falls, and then there's a spear in his heart and-)

Hajime closes his eyes, and falls back on the bed. Komaeda turns back to the laptop, and decides that if he can't do anything productive, he can at least try to bring Hajime's files into some semblance of order.

For a moment, he thinks that's all it'll be. And then he hears the blanket shuffle, and footsteps, and he says, "Am I keeping you up?"

"No," Hajime tells him, circling his arms around his front. Breath hitches in his throat- he can't stand to look back. Disappointment could fill his eyes, or annoyance furrow his brow, or pity worry at his lip, and all three of them would destroy him like a shattered porcelain doll. So he doesn't look back, even if he does sit back in the chair a little. "I'm not really sleepy anyway."

("I'm don't get tired easily," a quiet Kamakura tells him unprompted. He's rarely responding to questions, anticipating them and answering before they leave your lips. "They wanted efficiency." Servant hears what's unsaid and stores it in the shell he's got left of what he was.)

"Did you want to use the laptop?"

Silence meets him. Anxiety frays at his heart- what's Hajime thinking? Is he waiting? Hoping he'll come back to bed so he can make sure Komaeda is sleeping enough for his condition? That's Mikan's job, to worry over his health- he hopes Hajime isn't back to that old haunt that Kamakura used to take up when the two of them were in Towa City. To this day he isn't sure what about it drew the man in.

"You should tell me what it was," is what Hajime settles on.

Komaeda smiles. It's an instinct, like a deer in headlights; if something's too prying, smile and wave it away. "Nothing, really. Just couldn't sleep."

"...That's not true," Hajime insists. But there's sleep still stuck in his throat, thick and syrupy; if he plays his cards right. maybe Hajime will decide he's too much trouble and go back to bed.

("You're trouble," Kamakura states. It's not a question and doesn't sound like a complaint, and it's not like Servant could respond to such a thing while bedridden. There are more words, but sadly, his consciousness fails him, and they all sound like static.)

"...It's nothing I can't deal with myself. You should go to bed- you sound tired."

Hajime just makes a noise, properly bending down into a hug. His arms tighten, and Komaeda almost wants to look back, but doesn't. Now it feels like cheating, peering at an answer he's supposed to solve himself. And he's never been opposed, but the shame curls around him like a serpent.

"I'll join you in a minute," Komaeda promises.

"...I wasn't having a great dream either," Hajime tells him, and course he knew the whole time. It doesn't take a genius to have figured that out. But he was hoping it could be kept in its box where it's contained, not growing, simply existing. A therapist would tell him that's a bad idea, but Komaeda thinks he knows his own brain well enough to cope nowadays. "It was about Towa City."

"Ah."

"You were standing on a high rooftop. I was across the street in a building, watching from a window."

Komaeda puts a hand on his, tentatively and slowly, in case it'd be rejected. Hajime takes it in his, tight and secure. "You were looking down. And I couldn't move."

"And then?"

Hajime pauses. "And then I felt cold, so I woke up. I don't know what was going to happen."

"I see."

"But I think Kamakura does."

Komaeda says nothing. Kamakura's powers of observation are second to none, and of course the husk that Servant was never cared to hide anything he didn't need to. If Kamakura had looked at him for even a nanosecond while he was up on a building, he'd probably see the image in his mind.

(They're on top of one such building. Servant is staring at the edge in lieu of disgracing Kamakura with his eye. He does not notice the arm moving until it's already around his shoulder, tugging him closer. He assumes, in this moment, that Kamakura is cold, or maybe that he thought the ground was going to collapse that close to the edge.)

"You were thinking about jumping," Kamakura states plainly.

"Yes." Hiding from Kamakura is silly. It's like trying to socialize in a hospital bed. "Back then, anyways."

"Come to bed," he states plainly. "It is worse alone."

Komaeda obliges, because he knows there isn't much getting out of it. He shuts the laptop and gets up, Kamakura trailing him into the bed. Laying down is awkward, unsure of what Kamakura wants- which turns out to be fine, because he doesn't care much about taking it for himself, burying his face in Komaeda's neck and pulling him close.

It's warm. With whichever one of them- Hajime, Kamakura, both if they'd prefer that thought- it's hard to think about that moment, because in the memory it is cold and dry and distant and lonely, and now there is a beating heart so loud in his ears it's hard to think.

"...I am glad you never did," he says. "While I was there I would have stopped you. But there were moments you could have."

"There were," Komaeda says. And, truthfully, he thinks that black void is the reason he didn't. The lack of an idea, the sudden fear of the plunge when he imagined the end- Servant could only do things he could imagine, and he couldn't imagine the final moment. Even in the end, he was scared- it would make him hysterical if not for the calm, collected beating heart he feels under his hands. "...That's over now."

"Even if it isn't," Kamakura tells him, "I would rather know you are safe."

He thinks about saying something in response, but they really were tired. After a few more moments, their breathing evens out so suddenly he thinks Kamakura must be able to enter REM on command- the thought is almost funny.

But, really, it's hard to be distracted by anything when there's a beating heart so close to his own.

[eve6262]

heyy, i read your ISAT fic 'hard to forget, hard to remember' today and i really liked it!! i was just wondering since it stood out to me, but in chapter 3, there's this moment with the croissants and in the fic, Siffrin remembers the burnt taste of charcoal, referring to that moment in the game where they tell the party that they hate croissants cause he ate a burnt one once. but since it's later revealed that (in a missable moment) that that wasn't the real reason he hates croissants, i was reading it and thinking '...do they know?' especially cause it's a missable moment.

so if you do know and just forgot or just didn't want to put it in your fic, then just ignore me haha, but if you really missed it, i do recommend looking it up or playing it again, cause triggering that specific croissant backstory unlocks the true epilogue with Loop so i think it'd really be a shame if you missed out on that! anyway, really liked your fic, keep it up :D

I didn't see it actually! I was debating looking it up but just hadn't gotten to it yet, though I do know about the Loop epilogue. I've played a lot of RPG maker games, so my playthrough was very streamlined "how do I do the next thing" haha. I think the only optional stuff I triggered was...come to think of it, not entirely sure? I mentioned (by proxy) that I only needed 50 loops or so to beat the game, and that doesn't leave a ton of room for shenanagins, haha.

~Eve6262

[forecast-rain]

doodled a moment from chapter 2 of the fic "hard to forget, hard to remember" by @eve6262! I <333 I adore it so much <333

[eve6262]

slbvflsbdlsmdbsl I love this so much

-Eve6262

[integrityflower]

Please bite me next time i say im gonna make an animated sprite edit anyways . metronome !!!! this took me five hours help

[eve6262]

before I post anything else about purge march (large possibility) I wanna state here that I DON'T THINK THE DEAD PERSON IS A CULT MEMBER.

or, well, mostly.

okay, so, a lot of the comments are being very condescending to people who metavoted amane T1 to get her to realize she was in a cult. personally, I was never convinced it would work on the first try, and my thought was always it was going to be guilty/guilty/inno, but that's beside the point. many of the comments I see are promoting the theory that she killed her dad.

I don't think this is true.

firstly, this song is very "I see, I fucked up because I went against the cult and I was not severe enough. for that, I will atone." it does not fit the tone of her mentality. this is weak evidence, but is important context for the rest of the points.

secondly, the person who killed them was Uniform Amane (as opposed to Real Amane). Uniform Amane is the one who's fully indoctrinated in this MV, representing the cult beliefs and her actions according to them. Real Amane is shown almost entirely sad and abused, especially in context of the cat. only one shot is shown of that Amane quite smiling, and it's after the abuse, so it can be assumed to be either indoctrination or a mask (arguably both)

Uniform Amane would not have killed the leader of the cult. It would have been represented by Real Amane, because in context of the MV and Amane's worldview, it would've been "an impulsive action against the core tenants."

thirdly, Amane doesn't seem to be very passionate about this kill. In fact, she seems rather calm. I (and others) assumed that the kill was very passionate due to the intense nature (beating someone to death with a stick) and Magic, but I think this was incorrect. At least, Uniformed Amane seems very calm. This implies it falls in line with the cult beliefs.

finally, Magic. I find a lot of people tend to forget about the details of the previous MVs when evaluating new ones, and they're still important- they tell us valuable clues. in Magic, after the Incident, all four members of the cult are still alive, and in fact dancing with the newly repentant Amane. therefore, I think it doesn't make sense that she killed a cult member.

so I don't think it was her father. It is possible, but if it is true, it would be in a context where the cult would approve. something like Amane's father taking medication and assuming his daughter would cover for him, but she, indoctrinated and losing her mind, did the opposite and punished him herself. however, there is no evidence to support that in particular, so I have no reason to think it was her father.

I think it was "unrelated" to the events of the MV, in the sense that the events of the MV radicalized her, but are not directly tied to the incident in which she kills someone. they are simply what drove Uniform Amane into existence.

[eve6262]

yeet

yo moth?

[eve6262]

just watched ("just watched" meaning played on loop for an hour) cat and oh my god. first of all, banger. kazui's first song was good but too slow and emotional for me to listen to that often but this one is so fun. he's having fun(?).

but the mahiru parallels. THE MAHIRU PARALLELS. mahiru doing anything she can to stay in a relationship that's actively hurting them both / kazui only keeping up the bare minimum for the marriage and wanting to take a break from it, wishing for someone else. mahiru getting attached to the first person who shows her affection / kazui wanting to be caressed but his wife can't cut it, because he doesn't want to be with a woman. kazui started out asking for a guilty verdict and blaming himself and now he's wondering if he's really innocent, still calling himself the perpetrator / mahiru getting a guilty verdict and swinging 180 from "I didn't do anything!" to "it's all my fault it's all my fault"

and the SONG PARALLELS. both of them have this equation theme, like love and relationships are just a problem to be solved ("Clothes Food Shelter + Love and Miss You" // "Love plus destiny = Crap, smash it, shatter it, bye-bye"), a void to be filled based on prerequisites. mahiru falling in love with the first person she was interested and deciding that once it was mutual, this must be real / kazui deciding that since his partner seemed to like him, and he "should" be interested in women, it would be a good pick. he surely liked her as a good friend, as well, because of how much they worked together / mahiru not knowing her boyfriend pre relationship at all.

the animal theming too- kazui calls himself a cat, to be loved but not pinned down, and bites the dove's wing off. it was supposed to be freeing, to finally be in a relationship, to have people not ask him when he's going to settle down anymore- but it's not, he can't stand it, it's prey to be consumed, bothers him with every ruffle of its feathers. mahiru feeding her boyfriend rats because she thinks that's what love is supposed to taste like, rotting and sour and rancid but she'll be damned if she doesn't have it.

[madmonksandmaenads]

People love to talk about the immortality of the machine, but I'm a mechanical engineer, so I know they delude themselves. Most machines are far more mortal than flesh.

How long does a machine last? A car is a very solid machine, expensive, precision designed, and you're lucky if you get more than three decades out of them.

Your enemy is not the flesh. It's entropy. It's the death knell of the energy imbalance. If you want to live as a complex machine you will, by necessity, generate a great deal of entropy until your machine breaks irrevocably.

You want to be immortal? Then don't worship the machine, worship the stone, the forest. Seek that which is either simple enough to never know death or diffused enough to accept every death.

[eve6262]

the mushroom lives eternally, for its spirit binds not to flesh

similarly, the spirit of the machine is not always in its gears and pistons. your toaster is not eternal. the toaster is eternal.

[madmonksandmaenads]

You're almost there.

Notice I said Forest, not tree or mushroom. The tree is no more the forest than you are the fingernail. I know how to become a forest, its very easy, before humans even walked upright we were the forest. The only cost is to live as a small appendage of a greater self.

You argue that the concept of a toaster is eternal, maybe it is, but can you live as the concept of the toaster? Could you accept yourself as the reproductive organs of the Toaster?

[eve6262]

no, because I am not immortal, and therefore could not conceive of such an existence. is life within the consciousness? if yes, then perhaps time itself is not immortal; if not, then the concept of the toaster counts.

one cannot "live" as a toaster, but if that is the case, then one cannot "die" as the toaster, either.

[madmonksandmaenads]

People love to talk about the immortality of the machine, but I'm a mechanical engineer, so I know they delude themselves. Most machines are far more mortal than flesh.

How long does a machine last? A car is a very solid machine, expensive, precision designed, and you're lucky if you get more than three decades out of them.

Your enemy is not the flesh. It's entropy. It's the death knell of the energy imbalance. If you want to live as a complex machine you will, by necessity, generate a great deal of entropy until your machine breaks irrevocably.

You want to be immortal? Then don't worship the machine, worship the stone, the forest. Seek that which is either simple enough to never know death or diffused enough to accept every death.

[eve6262]

the mushroom lives eternally, for its spirit binds not to flesh

similarly, the spirit of the machine is not always in its gears and pistons. your toaster is not eternal. the toaster is eternal.

[makel-grax]

Yeah but in that sense "sand falling in an hourglass" is also eternal.

[eve6262]

the sand does not fall eternally unless it is turned before the clock ends. the sand itself is, in a sense, eternal, but both unliving and without a spirit. like a rock.

the toaster is eternal in both memory and spirit. it has purpose and a will to be built, and in such replicates ad infinitum. a better comparison is thus: the sand in the hourglass does not eternally fall, but the hourglass itself is eternity.

or, another way: the ship of theseus, forever repaired, is immortal so long as there is someone to replace its wood planks.

[ct-multifandom]

Rb this with that one repetitive voice line from a fighting game/any other media that’s stuck with you ages later even if you don’t remember any others

[madmonksandmaenads]

People love to talk about the immortality of the machine, but I'm a mechanical engineer, so I know they delude themselves. Most machines are far more mortal than flesh.

How long does a machine last? A car is a very solid machine, expensive, precision designed, and you're lucky if you get more than three decades out of them.

Your enemy is not the flesh. It's entropy. It's the death knell of the energy imbalance. If you want to live as a complex machine you will, by necessity, generate a great deal of entropy until your machine breaks irrevocably.

You want to be immortal? Then don't worship the machine, worship the stone, the forest. Seek that which is either simple enough to never know death or diffused enough to accept every death.

[eve6262]

the mushroom lives eternally, for its spirit binds not to flesh

similarly, the spirit of the machine is not always in its gears and pistons. your toaster is not eternal. the toaster is eternal.

[eve6262]

happy birth komaeda (sorry)

Wind lazily drifts through buildings, waving fabric but ignoring the settled dust that still covers a lot of Towa City. The sun has long been replaced by an eternal gred haze that seeps into your mind until you forget what the brilliant blue sky used to look like. Pictures of youth become impossible.

As if he wanted to look at them anyway.

The taste of bile rises in his mouth. It always does; Kamakura-Hajime tried to give him medicine, but failed to account for his luck. Of course he'd be allergic to a component he'd never tried.

They were in a lab the other day, furiously working at it. Desperate. Mikan, too, wished for their success; whether for the scientific gain or his own sake is a mystery. But Fuyuhiko gave him a look in the hallway earlier, and so quite easily he snuck out of his own accord.

How he ended up in Towa City is a bit of a mess. But the wind is gentle as it wraps his coat around him, as if to preserve whatever warmth is heart is still generating. It's thick, still comfortable after all these years. Maybe it isn't even the fabric. Maybe it's the memory, the one thing that's stayed with him through thick and thin. People left him, despise him, and hope itself ebbs and flows like the tide-

But he still has his coat. Ripped at the ends and faded from its glory days (of which there were few), it stays faithfully intact.

A red string wraps its way around his wrist. He gently tugs at it in response.

They'll probably find him eventually. Or maybe Monaca will. Last reported sign of her, she went into space, but he knows quite well that won't last. Monaca gets bored easily, and something ties her to this place, no matter how much she wants to insist it doesn't matter. She'll be back, whether on the side of hope or despair. Or neither.

Pity the poor child.

The city is silent now, at least. All the old Monokuma robots have since either lost their power or forgotten their purpose, listlessly wandering. Shirokuma and Kurokuma are probably still around, but neither of them have a care for him anymore. Monaca is gone, after all, and the old Warriors of Hope are safely within Future Foundation bounds.

Everyone is safe. Well cared for. Working to further the future with their own talents.

Everyone save for him.

He's sure there's a purpose, in the mind of the more pragmatic. Kamakura probably thinks it, and Togami has likely agonized over the decision, and Munakata absolutely wanted him dead at some point. It's probably some message about human life, how everyone is worth saving so long as you can try, and despite his insanity he can be helpful. Even if he isn't.

Or maybe they're hopeful that his existence will spur Kamakura to develop that cure. Frontal temporal dimentia isn't exactly common by any means, but a cure for cancer is a cure for cancer. It'd be great marketing.

And if he dies to a gun after that? Well. A bullet is a bullet.

He almost wishes the wind were harsher. Howling, whistling through broken windows, pushing billowing clouds of ruin into the sea. If he closes his eyes, he can imagine it; the chill spreading through his bones, seeping in and trying to freeze that heart already struggling. Maybe it would manage it.

Or maybe he'd just keep shivering on this roof till it passed, because of course he'd be that unlucky.

A sigh leaves his throat. He should go get something to eat, probably.

And then the world goes dark.

---

He wakes up in a hospital bed.

Again.

Kamakura- and that is Izuru, most definitely- is staring at him.

Again.

"Aha. Found me quicker than I thought you would."

"I knew you would end up in Towa," he mutters. He doesn't bother with inflection or volume. There's something about him he can't hide from Komaeda. He stopped trying after an entire week. "But I am unsure why you left."

"I thought it was obvious."

Silence passes. Kamakura isn't considering what he wants to say- he would never bother. He's puzzling through something instead. Or maybe that semi-mixed consciousness between the two of them is giving him problems.

"You don't want a cure," Kamakura eventually states.

And Komaeda sighs.

"Would you rather I be honest?"

"Yes." It's unambiguous, even for Izuru.

"Very well, Kamakura-kun. If that's what you want."

The sun doesn't shine outside. It's not blue outside his window, or dark because the police raided the killer's home and found him in the dumpster and it took two days for him to wake up. They are not calling to tell him he was accepted into Hope's Peak Academy without applying.

"Who will be happy if I'm cured?"

The sky is blood red.

"Don't lie to me and say our classmates. The rest of the Foundation thinks I should be exiled. I doubt even Tsumiki truly wants me cured."

It bleeds for what it was once. A world now turned into the end; is there even any escaping it? When the atmosphere itself is so horribly rotten from warfare with weaponry they should've never invented? When the planet is ruined from all they've done?

"They just want a cure for the disease. They couldn't care less who has it."

"I would be happy," Kamakura says quietly.

Komaeda turns to him.

His eyes are red. Well, Kamakura's eye is red; the other is still green, somehow. Perhaps they are the window to the soul.

The color of blood. Of memories of sterile operating rooms being stained red after operation after operation after operation; the definition of insanity, of doing the same tests over and over and over again and expecting a different outcome. Of broken mirrors and thoughtless gazes.

And then Kamakura leaves the room.

Komaeda looks to the clock on the bedside table. 4/28, it glares back at him.

What an unlucky date.

----

sorry I made you sad my son. I was gonna draw you something but I do not have the energy for art right now.

~Eve6262

[eve6262]

playing with her like a paper doll hehe

one of these was inspired by a recent kanaria song

~Eve6262