Headcanon that because The Listeners chose Jimmy as their Messenger first in Evo, Jimmy has been blessed by them to be immune to the Watchers' control.
Which is why he's more physically targeted to whittle him down organically since the Watchers' couldn't bend his will forcibly until he decided that he's tired of dying first and decided to pray to them on his own volition. (The Instagram post of cc!Jimmy jokingly praying to the Evo/Watcher symbol during Secret Life)
Meanwhile, Martyn was just a second choice due to merely being close to Jimmy which is why he doesn't have the same immunity to the Watchers' will. The Listeners only truly started clinging onto him when Martyn went through the Listener Exit Portal first while Jimmy stayed behind in Evo.
And by that point, the Listeners couldn't do much except to give Martyn his soundboard powers as a consolation prize of being the only one who used the Listener Exit Portal. (BigB did play the Portal Jump Animation in his last episode but he didn't physically jump into the portal on video so I headcanon that the Watchers intercepted the portal by that point so BigB went to the Watchers' hand instead of being free thanks to the Listeners)
Which is why, come Traffic Life, Martyn is susceptible to the Watchers' will.
Jimmy got blessed by the Listeners with mental protection
Meanwhile Martyn got blessed by the Listeners with useless sound manipulation
One's blessing is more obvious but the other is actually more valuable in practice
(Well, until the Listeners did get enough of a foothold to help give PL!Martyn plot armor from all of the close calls)
The first thing Martyn saw when he opened his eyes was nothing. No, seriously, everything was black. Where on earth was he?
Martyn was confused, if that word even did justice to his situation. He tried to move around to find something that would help him figure out where he was. The first thing he touched was stone: stone on the floor, stone on the walls, stone on the ceiling… wait a minute, on the ceiling? He wasn't even standing up. Now that Martyn looked closer, he was lying down. Had they buried him?
The last thing he remembered was being in his castle (which was definitely his and he hadn't just taken it since its owners were dead) and that he'd been having problems with the people he ruled. Governing a village of humans was harder than Lord made it seem.
Martyn knew the people had planned a revolution to overthrow him, but he was immortal. It wouldn't have worked. But the narrow walls and total darkness made him think it had.
Martyn remembers how they entered the castle with torches and rakes. He thought he could handle them; in fact, he killed most of them. But then he remembers one of them saying some strange words, almost like he was singing, and how tired he felt afterward. Which is odd—he was a vampire; vampires don't get tired…
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
DID THEY PUT HIM TO SLEEP WITH MAGIC?!
That was humiliating—a powerful vampire defeated by sleep. It was a good thing they were foolish enough not to stake him when they had the chance. When he got out of there, they'd pay.
Martyn could already hear the Lord and Sire's voices in his head, telling him what a disgrace his fate and defeat were. Well, he was alive, and they were dead. Who was the disgrace now?
Martyn tried to rummage through his… tomb? I suppose this was his tomb. if he found something he could use
He found a… sword? An axe? A pickaxe? And… bread and fish?! Why would they bury him with these things? They were supposed to want him dead, and why weren't the bread and fish rotten? Martyn seriously doubted the food could last that long without spoiling in this environment.
Putting the food's illogical nature aside, Martyn used the pickaxe to climb out of his coffin.
When he emerged, he couldn't say what he saw was fine. It was old, and despite the ravages of time, he recognized the place: the castle crypt, the one Sire always liked to be in, the one they never allowed Martyn to be with.
Martyn wandered around the crypt for a while, trying to get used to being awake again. It was so difficult for him to move; it seemed like he'd been asleep for a very long time. The question now was, how long had he been asleep?
When he emerged from the crypt, he couldn't say the castle was any better. Who was he kidding? It was a disaster. It had no roof, no walls, no rooms. It wasn't even a castle anymore, just a pile of stones.
"What on earth happened here?!" Martyn threw his hands up in despair, trying to grasp how much time had actually passed. Judging by the state of the castle, either the villagers had gone mad and had truly dedicated that much effort to dismantling it piece by piece, or his revenge would have to wait. Judging by its condition, it had been sleeping for what felt like a millennium.
There was nothing Martyn could do about it, and he had to admit it infuriated him. The years he'd enjoyed the castle's luxuries without a Sire or Lord telling him what to do or reminding him of all those stupid rules he'd never bothered to learn had been wonderful. He'd felt strong, he'd felt free. Now he had to start from scratch …. again.
Martyn had slept in worse places, so he'd surely manage; perhaps he'd even rebuild the castle. Yes, he will do that, perhaps he could even reconquer the village, make it his own, truly his, without Lord constantly telling him that everything belonged to them.
Martyn already had a goal in mind: go to the village, see who was left, hide among them to gather information on who was worth keeping and who might be a problem while he recovered his strength and rebuilt his empire. An easy task; he was a vampire, stronger than any human in that backwater village.
There was no one who could stop him.
Apo
When Apo woke up, the first thing she felt was cold, a sensation she hadn't yet grown accustomed to, or perhaps she had and simply didn't like it; that was also a possibility.
However, Apo didn't usually feel so cold in the mornings; the warmth that Cherri and their dogs gave off was usually enough to keep them warm. Now that Apo looked closer, she felt something heavy pressing down on her. It wasn't the blankets on their bed, no, it was something else. It was dark. Had they drawn the curtains? No, it was too dark if that were the case.
Apo tried to move, but it was harder than usual, as if her body and mind were urging her to stay put. Whatever was on top of her moved with her, as if it were taking over the space she had left. Where was she?
She tried feeling around to see if she had a clue. She reached to one side and grabbed a piece of… of something. It slipped from her grasp. Was it sand? No, it was wet, it was hard, it was dirt.
Apo tried to move her body and ended up face down (if she had even been lying down at all) and touched something hard, textured, rough. It was… wood?...
.
.
.
Oh…
.
.
She knew where she was…
Just thinking that what had happened was real and not a nightmare only made them want to turn over and go back to sleep. Hopefully, that way she would be reunited with her, but at this point, Apo doubted that was how it worked.
Apo stayed curled up on the ground, on top of the wood, a while longer, lost in memories. All she really wanted was to stay there forever, to wait for sleep to return and take her back to it, or whatever it was that happened when she tried to sleep. She couldn't think of any better place; it was her grave, after all.
Apo wanted to stay there, but the ground began to vibrate. At first, she tried to ignore it and close her eyes, but it grew stronger the longer it went on. To make matters worse, she began to hear other noises.
Thump... thump... thump...
Bam... bam... bam...
Were they footsteps? Heartbeats?
The idea that it was the last thing gave her hope, until she realized it was coming from above the ground, not from beneath it. It was probably the town.
Just thinking about the town sent a shiver down her spine. She really didn't want to go back, not after what happened, not after what they did, not after what she did.
But the noises and vibrations were becoming unbearable.
She tried to put her hands to her ears, but it seemed the noise could only get worse.
"Ugh.., fine, fine, I'm coming," she said, defeated, and with great physical and mental effort, she emerged from the ground.
Apo didn't know what to expect when she came out of the ground, but it definitely wasn't a bunch of blossom trees.
"But... what... How much time has passed?" Apo knew where she was; it couldn't be anywhere else, and she remembered that there had only been one cherry blossom tree, not a whole forest of them.
When she turned around, she saw it. It was the largest cherry tree in the entire forest, and it was also clearly the oldest, too old (it still had the carving cherri had made on it).
Apo lowered her gaze and bent down to place her hand on the stone beneath the tree.
"At least this hasn't changed that much." The gravestone was worn with time, cracked, and surrounded by plants, but the inscription was still legible.
"Here lies Cherri Fire"
"You will never be forgotten"
Apo couldn't say exactly how long she remained in that position, but it was a long time. Everything around her had changed so much; it wasn't hours, it wasn't days, it felt like years, many years, too many years.
Apo was right. Whatever she had become prevented her from aging. It wasn't her imagination; she wasn't changing, while Cherri was.
Not that this knowledge made her feel better; in fact, it made her feel worse. She had to find another way; this one wasn't working. But first, she had to find out how much time had passed or try to discover what she was, so she could know how she could reunite with her. (Seven years had passed since Fernsfield, what made her think that she was going to find out now?)
They had to believe; there had to be a way. Maybe the town would give them a clue. As much as she didn't want to go to Oakhurst, it was the best place to start. Maybe she'd find out there how much time had passed. What was the worst that could happen? At this point, Apo had nothing to lose.
Apo got up and started walking, trying with all his might not to look at or go into their house. She couldn't do it, not without her, not without Cherri.
A week or two after the games, Grian will usually check in with the victor.
It's a habit that's probably more for his own benefit than anyone else's. But it is, he thinks, a good habit nonetheless.
After all, as fun as it all is, things can get a bit... intense, towards the end, and it's good for his peace of mind to make sure the last one standing is ok with how things shook out.
Nothing much has ever really come of it before; they're all pretty resilient. He doubts this time’ll be different. Except- well.
Something about it all itches at the back of his mind, and he hasn’t been able to work out why. There was the actual ending, of course, but also Grian may have been whispering in Martyn's ear about how boring that final showdown was turning out to be, and how narratively satisfying it would be if he just betrayed the other two and got it over with, so.
If nothing else, it feels like he's got no reason to break with tradition.
There's just one more concern.
Martyn seems to have made it almost impossible to contact him.
It's not... unheard of, for players to keep to themselves most of the time, especially when it comes to those they don’t share a server with. It seems a little uncharacteristic of Martyn, but the last time Grian saw him outside the games was before they even started, so maybe he does things differently these days.
There are certainly a great many reasons why that could be the case, most of which are perfectly sensible.
But Grian's never been able to resist picking at a puzzle put in front of him, whether the puzzle likes it or not, so he is going to talk to Martyn. And he can just see what happens, and worry about any consequences if and when they appear.
Luckily, he already has a way to do just that.
He doesn't usually need to do this - although it is very funny to startle Scar or Mumbo with it sometimes when they're concentrating. Honestly it's usually less effective than communicators, with how much effort it takes.
But he does have a way. The same way he used to whisper in Martyn's ear very recently, in fact.
He reaches out, away from his home, away from his body, and it feels a little like simultaneously overextending himself, and putting his foot down on a step he thought was flat ground.
That is... not how this usually feels.
It's odd. Rather unnerving.
But it works.
He finds Martyn. Watches the vague shape of him solidify into something more real.
He’s still wearing his red life outfit, for some reason. His eyes are closed. Around his head, the coral curls like a blood-red crown.
“What do you think you're playing at?” Asks Grian.
Martyn blinks his eyes open slowly, looking less confused than Grian would expect for someone hearing a disembodied voice out of nowhere. “Oh good.” He says dryly. “You again.”
He squawks indignantly. “Hey, what's that supposed to mean?”
There is silence for a few seconds.
“...Hey.” Martyn says, and as flippant as he suddenly sounds, he looks as thrown off balance as Grian feels. “Not sure who this is, but I think you might have the wrong number!”
“I think that's unlikely.” He deadpans. “Where are you? I haven't been able to get hold of you.”
“Uh-” There's a short pause as he looks around at wherever he is right now. “Falling into endless nothingness, looks like. Same old, same old, am I right?”
Grian rolls his eyes. “Yeah, ok. Well, I suppose you don't have to tell me.” A part of him makes a note of Martyn’s wording, though. Just in case.
“...Hm. Well, not gonna lie, I do appreciate the change of pace, but I would love to know what exactly you want from me. You know, just on the off chance that you feel like giving me any clues.”
It's at this point that Grian remembers: one of the main reasons this method of communication is good for messing with people is that it makes him sound, um. A little different. And while he can see Martyn, it’s not as if Martyn can see him.
...Best to just pretend that hadn't slipped his mind.
“You do realize this is Grian, right?” He asks, as though it ought to be obvious.
“Riiight, yeah, sure.” Says Martyn. “And I'm also Grian, did you know that?”
“Oh for- what, do you want me to tell you some secret only the two of us would know, or something?”
“Nah.” Says Martyn. “That wouldn't work.”
“Elaborate.” Says Grian, through gritted teeth.
“You know what? I don't think I will!” Replies Martyn brightly.
Grian takes a deep breath in through his nose. “I'm beginning to wonder why I bother.” He grinds out.
Martyn snorts. “Tell me about it.”
There's a short silence.
“But- ok.” He continues. “Just suppose for the sake of argument that you are Grian.”
“...Yes?” Asks Grian warily.
“I have a question for you.”
“...Yeeees?” Asks Grian, even more warily.
The silence stretches for several long moments.
“What's up?” Asks Martyn.
“Yeah ok, this isn’t worth it, I'm leaving now.”
“Wait! No, I'm serious!” Under the amusement, there's a note of something that sounds almost like nervousness in his voice. It's uncharacteristic. Unnerving.
“What are you talking about?” Asks Grian, trying very hard to keep his voice at least mostly free of annoyance.
“Oh, you know! What's going on, what's the deal, what'd you want to talk to me for?” There's a slight hesitation. “You need help or something?”
“I- ok. That's actually sort of relevant. It's really nothing too complicated, Martyn.” He says, grumpily. “All I wanted to do was make sure you're good with what happened at the end of the last game.”
Martyn blinks, and goes very still.
There is a long silence - long enough that Grian starts to feel concerned.
And then Martyn laughs.
It's not a nice laugh.
“Good, huh. You want to know if I’m good with it. That sure is an interesting choice of words.”
“...How so?” He asks, guardedly.
“Grian. Grian, I’m not sure if you remember this, but I won. I won this one, Grian.” Every word he says, however restrained, sounds like it’s had to claw its way out of him. He glares at nothing. “And guess what? It's just like the others. I don’t really care enough for any of it to matter to me, anymore, and that's fine by me.”
Now that's... a lot to unpack. “You- I'm sorry?”
“Well that makes one of us then, doesn't it?” His voice is coated with scorn.
“What are you talking about?”
“Do you actually think I’m going to explain myself to you?” He asks, looking half-amused. “You, of all people?”
“Well unfortunately, Martyn, I can’t exactly put Ren on the line, so I’m afraid I’m all you’re going to get.” He snaps, and instantly regrets it when he sees the look in Martyn’s eyes.
There is a short silence.
Grian shifts uncomfortably. He’s not going to apologize, obviously. But. Well. “That... ok, maybe that was a bit much.” He says.
“...Little bit, yeah.”
There is another silence.
After a while, Martyn speaks.
“I would’ve betrayed him too, you know.” He says coolly.
“What, Ren?”
“Yeah. At the drop of a hat. Soon as it was convenient.”
“I mean sure, I suppose?” Says Grian, caught off guard. “You didn’t, though. Did you? When you had the chance.”
“Eh.” He shrugs, as though that’s an irrelevant detail. “It would’ve been more dramatic later. You know how it is.”
...There's no real way he can justify saying no to that, is there? “Yeah.” He says. “I guess I do.”
He tries to picture the King, betrayed. The Hand, triumphant.
“I dunno, though.” He says, thoughtful. “I don’t think you ever could’ve done it, to be honest. Not in the first one. Whatever it was you were planning, it was just never how that story was going to go.”
“That’s not true.” He says it just slightly too fast. “I know that’s not true.”
Grian scoffs. “You know thinking about something isn’t the same as doing it, right?”
“What, no, really?” He rolls his eyes. “You don’t say!”
“What I’m saying,” He lets his voice turn biting, “Is that you’re being stupid.”
Martyn lets out a startled laugh. It’s surprisingly genuine. “Wow. You’re really bad at this, dude.”
Grian bristles. “Well why am I the one who has to do it then? Why don’t you talk to someone else, if you hate talking to me so much?”
“I mean…” He makes an unconvinced noise. “Obvious problems aside, when do you even expect me to do that? We usually have other things to worry about.”
“I don’t know, maybe at literally any point between the games?” He sighs exasperatedly. “There’s no way you’re that busy.”
“Between the games?” Martyn asks incredulously, and Grian suddenly feels as though something dangerous is hovering over their heads, just about to drop. “What do you mean, between the games?”
“I mean between the games! Like- now! What do you think this is, right now, if it’s not between the games?” He snaps.
“This right now?” He looks nonplussed. “I think we’re usually asleep for most of this bit. Or possibly we forget about it. As you can probably imagine, it’s hard to know for sure.”
“Now I know that’s not true.” He says firmly, ignoring the unease trying to creep up on him. “I know I do stuff between games, and I know I don’t just forget about it. That makes no sense.”
“I mean, I don't necessarily mean everything between the games, more just this specifically.” He gestures around at nothing. “That gets more complicated, though. But you- hm.” He looks curious. “That’s interesting. Where even are you, then, at the moment?”
“I’m at home! Which is where I thought everyone else was too!”
Martyn seems to consider this for a few moments, and then he frowns, and then his expression goes blank. “…Oh.” He says. “Yeah. No, that… makes sense, actually. Yeah. You’re probably right.”
“Wha- what do you mean? Right about what?”
“Everyone probably went home. Or, at least, they thought they did. And hey, what’s the difference, when you get right down to it?”
“...Ok, I’m going to ignore the second part for now, I already got past that little existential crisis after Ren and Doc’s whole… thing… in season eight- if you think everyone went home, why are you- what was it you said- ‘falling into endless nothingness’?”
There’s another pause.
“...You’re really gonna make me say it, huh? That seems cruel, even for you.”
“Wait, no, what do you-”
“Where else do you think I would go?” It sounds less like an admission and more like an accusation. “What ‘home’ do you think I have left, Grian?”
“Look.” Snaps Grian, feeling vaguely tricked. “It’s not my fault that you-”
“Yeah, it never is, is it?” He glares into the darkness. “It’s always a tragic inevitability with you, never a choice you’re making. That way you get to stab people in the back and pretend to be sad about it. Best of both worlds, huh?”
Grian splutters for a few seconds. “Why are you being so rude to me??”
“Because you’re you and I’m me.” He smirks. “Don’t know what you expected, honestly.”
“I never said I wasn’t a hypocrite, sometimes. Also, I never said I felt bad about it.” He replies levelly, and all at once, they’re talking about something else.
“You didn’t need to say it.” Snaps Grian. “You might be good at lying but you’re not perfect. I could see in your face that it hurt.”
He narrows his eyes. “It felt good, actually.”
“Wow, good for you.” He says, almost amused suddenly. “You didn’t say I was wrong, though.”
His expression twists into something unreadable. “I know you, Grian. Like recognizes like.” He says, voice low and dangerous. “You’re a liar.”
Grian shrugs, despite the fact that Martyn will not see it. “And you’re a coward. Your point?”
“I don’t need to justify myself to someone who refuses to admit that he could have chosen to be better, if he’d ever wanted to.” He spits out.
“Hey, at least I don’t try and convince myself I’m a monster just because I want to survive.”
That one strikes something tender; he can tell. “Right, yeah, and you’re just a blameless angel and everyone you cut down had it coming, I’m sure.”
“I didn’t say that. But since you bring it up… how many people did you give up your time for, again?” He grins. “Is it less than one? Because I think it is. I think I’ve got you beat there, Martyn.”
“And where did it get you?” He snarls.
“Home, in the end.”
Martyn flinches back as though he’s been struck.
“Did you forget about that part?” Asks Grian.
There’s a long pause.
Martyn fidgets with the end of the banner he wears around his waist, pulling at where the white threads are coming undone. He stares out into the darkness. “Yeah.” He says. “I guess I did.”
The satisfaction of winning the argument feels less potent, suddenly.
“You’re right.” Says Grian, after a while. “I’m really bad at this.”
Martyn laughs quietly. “To be fair, I’m not exactly helping.”
“You’re really not.”
He sighs. “You know pulling the knife out just makes the wound start bleeding again, don’t you? That’s all we’re doing here. That’s all we’re going to do to each other. We’re too alike to do anything else, unless we just don’t do anything. And hey, we’re not great at that either.”
“Hmm.” Says Grian begrudgingly. “I’d say something about inevitability again, but I honestly don’t think you’re wrong.”
“We both just enjoy pushing buttons too much to be particularly good at not pushing them, I guess.” Martyn sounds half-amused, half-resigned.
Grian makes an irritated noise. “Yes, alright, I don’t need another reminder of the whole button debacle.”
There is more silence.
After a while, Grian speaks again. “There’s something I was wondering about, actually.”
“Oh yeah?” Martyn raises an eyebrow.
“What’s the reason?” He asks.
“You’re gonna have to be more specific with that one, mate.”
“‘This is a death match for a reason.’” He says matter-of-factly. “That’s what you said. So- what is it? What’s the reason?”
Martyn blinks, then lets out a short, harsh laugh. “You think I know that?”
“No, not really. That’s why I wondered what you meant when you said it.”
“It- look. I don’t know if you’re expecting philosophy from me, or something. It’s a death game. People die, and it doesn’t have to mean anything. It doesn’t have to be special, it doesn’t have to be honourable, it doesn’t have to be fair. That’s what I meant.” He frowns. “You know that.”
“I do.” He admits.
“Then why ask?” Martyn looks around as though this time, somehow, he might be able to find Grian’s face in the dark.
He doesn’t.
“I just-” Grian sighs. “What do you want?” He asks. “What do you actually want, Martyn?”
The question sits heavy in the darkness between them.
“What do you want me to say?” Martyn asks. He sounds more tired than Grian’s ever heard him.
“I want you to tell the truth.” Grian says. He needs to know. He needs to know.
“Now, Grian.” Says Martyn, voice gently chiding. “Have you met me? You know I can’t do that.”
“Pretend it’s a lie, then.”
Martyn’s grip on the banner he wears tightens, slightly. There is a long, long silence.
“Or how about,” Says Grian, eventually, “You say something, and I won’t know whether it’s a lie or not.”
There is another pause.
Martyn frowns at the red of the fabric in his hands, as though it might offer him something.
As far as Grian can tell, it does not.
He’s just beginning to give up hope of ever getting an answer when Martyn speaks, so softly he almost doesn’t hear it.
“I want it to be warm again.” He says.
It’s quiet.
For a moment – just a moment, no more – Grian remembers bloody, aching fists. He remembers burning heat.
“Well.” He says. “That makes one of us, then. Doesn’t it?”
“Yeah.” Says Martyn, voice low. “I guess it does.”
There’s another short second of silence before Martyn speaks again, sounding cheerful. “So, suppose I’ll see you in the next one, huh? If that ever happens.” He grins. “Wanna take bets on how hard Scott’ll have to try not to win it? I’m gonna go with very.”
Grian snorts. “I’m not taking that bet. That man is infuriatingly good at surviving.”
“You’re not wrong! You are not wrong.” He gestures into the void. “And don’t even get me started on Timmy’s whole thing, I think we both know how that one’s gonna go. Unless you want to bet against him being gone first next time round?”
“You’re not Scar.” Says Grian. “There’s no way you talk anyone into taking that bet in a million years. Except maybe Timmy.”
“Fair, fair.”
There’s a short pause.
Grian hesitates for a moment before he speaks – almost, but not quite, reluctant. “Why do you keep looking back?” He asks. “There’s nothing left for us there. You know that, right?”
“I mean, let me know when you find a better place to look.” He tilts his head to the side slightly, curious, and frowns. “Do you really never want to go back?”
“No.” Says Grian. “Never.”
Martyn opens his mouth, and then, uncharacteristically, closes it again. “Yeah.” He says. “Me neither.”
Grian is tempted, momentarily, to tell Martyn to take the banner off and let it go. Let the darkness take it. Prove it.
But just like Martyn, he lets it drop.
Mutually assured destruction is a potent thing.
Now all he has to do is the hard part. The part he’s dreading most of all.
The main concern is phrasing it correctly. Making it sound just how he wants it to sound.
After some thought, he thinks he’s found the words he's looking for.
He could always be wrong, though. He’s usually more one for incredible violence than smooth talking.
“Martyn?” He asks cautiously, casually. “Do you want me to help you?”
The expression that crosses Martyn’s face is unreadable.
He processes the question for a few moments, before he answers.
“Nah. I’m good.” He says, voice guarded. “Don’t worry about it.”
And that’s the rub, isn’t it.
Because now Grian has to decide whether he’s going to let Martyn lie to him or not.
Whether he’s going to pass the test that’s been set before him, or not.
...
Grian’s not a monster.
He’s just realistic.
There's nothing he could do, anyway.
“Well.” He says levelly. “Just let me know if that changes.”
(Martyn would do the same to him.
It’s not a justification, or an excuse. But he knows it to be true.)
Martyn stares out into the darkness. His eyes are almost, but not quite, resentful. “Sure thing, man. Why wouldn’t I.”
It’s not said like a question, so Grian doesn’t answer it. “Well, you know I can’t stay here forever.”
“I do know that.”
“Any messages you want me to pass on to any of the hermits? I know you haven’t seen Mumbo in a while.” It’s not really a compromise, or a peace offering. Hopefully, however, it’s close enough to one or the other of those to act in their stead.
Martyn closes his eyes. Breathes in. Breathes out. Opens his eyes again. “If you were Grian, then maybe.” His gaze is cold. “But I think this hypothetical has gone on long enough.”
...It’s a lot easier for both of them, if Martyn believes that.
He’s positive Martyn knows that.
Just this once, perhaps he can manage to not look a gift horse in the mouth.
“For what it’s worth,” He says, looking away, “I moved on from the Bad Boys when it got too expensive to keep them alive.”
“It’s not worth a lot.” Says Martyn flatly. “And it would be worth even less coming from Grian.”
Grian sighs. “Alright. Fine. I’ll see you around, Martyn.”
“I know.” Says Martyn. He closes his eyes.
After a few moments, Grian does too.
When he opens them, he’s home.
…
Oh, that doesn’t feel good.
It really doesn't.
He could dwell on this. It wouldn’t be hard. He could drown himself in guilt over what he’s done, or not done, or will not do.
But- well.
Grian never really saw the point in letting someone else drag you down with them.
He's so, so human. In both the storytelling and the plot. Storytelling wise- The other characters have a plot and a backstory and an aim or goal. Martyn's just trying to live. He makes up a backstory to fit in, he lies about his name even. He's not a character to me. He feels like a person.
Let me rephrase. Watching Martyn's POV feels like when you read a book written in 1st person. It feels like he's reacting like a regular human would to vampires. He's reacting like the audience would.
The audience can relate more to this guy than any of the others. I love the other POVs but none of the audience (I hope) are mass killers (whether by war, mind control or metal break), none of us are actually immortal, or monster hunters. We're just normal humans. And so is v Martyn.
He fully doesn't believe in vampires (of course they don't exist). But he sees weird stuff happening so he investigates, which is so human. He sees people messing with the beacon and confronts them ( in an aggressive manner, but what human doesn't get angry when they're scared).
He is told a secret in a calm manner, in a place where he can run away if he needs (and he does back up and then return when Cleo remains calm - go watch ep 4 again) and he matches that energy.
He is told a secret in a dark hole he can't run from, in a manner that was scary (I'm sorry Apo but you rolled a nat 1 on that talk) and runs to get help. And if you, random human, were genuinely confronted with a vampire, in those circumstances, I guarantee you would not do any different!
And even with all this fear, when Scott walks into town to manipulate, (sorry, talk) he is willing to try - he doesn't fight, he asks them to stop (well stahp). He also reacts poorly to one of the other 'safe' humans asking to turn. Fear of losing a friend, but willingness to live and let live.
V Martyn is a bit of a hypocrite - again who isn't? In real life even the most principled people will be hypocritical sometimes. And let's be honest the average human really follows the adage 'do what I say not what I do'.
V Martyn for the last 3 episodes is a scared human, trying to protect the people who will protect him, and being, reasonably, aggressive towards people who have said they wish to kill him. He is not (like Ren) unwilling to live and let live. He is however, right, that until the very end (when Owen Pyro and Avid were dead, and so Scott changed tactics) the only chance of him staying human - was the vampires dying. The vampires, for all that most of them said they wanted peace, the structure of Owen being one of the de facto leaders, would never have allowed for peace.
Martyn is a very human character and displays so much humanity - even in his last moments helping reassure a friend. So human that the narrative is ruined by him no longer being one (cc Martyn is a storyteller - he knew what the plot demanded). So he died as he lived. The most human person in Oakhurst.
Martyn and Apo bat cuddles :) I wish to live in a joyous world where she fully turns Martyn at some point (as opposed to. Canon) and they get to be bats together
Thank you for this request, i'm now imaging the beautiful world that could have been.
This is an answered art request for the VSMP Bat Conservation Event! Asks are now closed, i'm just finishing up what's left in the inbox. If you can, consider donating to Bat Conservation International!
Utterly obsessed with this little cat guy, I'm working on coming up with names of them on my own to just call her that in my head, so far Noran or Kit definitely feel the best pffff. But my search shall continue!!
To write this, I was inspired by a post from @mayashesfly; I'll leave a link so you can see it.
I have to say that English isn't my first language, and I'm using a translator, so I apologize in advance for any spelling mistakes.
So the basic premise of this AU is that Apo and Martyn are the starting vampires instead of Owen and Scott, but at the same time, they're basically the opposite of them, with Apo valuing humanity more than vampirism and Martyn being a fake nobleman, among other things.
I'm going to call this AU the “Appletree Starter AU”.
Warning: This story contains descriptions of violence.
The plan to achieve immortality was simple. Scott just needed to go to that city in the middle of nowhere, where it was rumored the creature that would grant him immortality lived, find it, and offer it a more than generous amount of gold in exchange for turning it into one of its own. Who would refuse such an offer?
Getting trapped in that damn town wasn't part of the plan. Scott didn't really think it would take him so long to find the creature, or rather, to discover who the creature was, but if his knowledge of ancient paintings and paper was correct, he had already found it.
Ah, there they are, in the middle of the dark woods where no one could hear them. That was perfect timing.
"I have to admit, you know how to hide. Your trick with the garlic bucket was a good strategy, but I've still discovered your true nature."
The woman standing before Scott turned around immediately upon hearing him. He saw her long red hair hanging over her dress. Now that Scott looked closely, the fabric seemed old, worn, not to mention the style—very outdated. What he dismissed as bad taste was a crucial clue to her true nature. It seems bad taste sometimes has an explanation. Sometimes.
"What are you talking about, Scott?"
Oh, so she was playing dumb. Well, Scott knew he'd already won that game. The paintings he found in that abandoned cabin on the outskirts of town were the definitive proof, and Scott was getting tired of waiting.
"Stop lying, Apo. I know what you are," he said with a wide smile as he approached her with smooth movements, just as he had done a million times before to get what he wanted.
"I know your kind burn in the sun, I know you need blood to live, I know you didn't end up in Oakhurst because you were just passing through, I know you're from here, I know you're immortal."
Scott watched as Apo backed away while he advanced. This would be easy.
"You know how I know? Living surrounded by valuable and ancient art has its advantages. You can tell how old a painting is just by looking at the condition of the paper it's on, the kind of materials used, and if my calculations are correct, I'd say this painting is approximately, umm, 200 years old." After that, Scott unrolled the painting he had kept in his robes, the one he found in the cabin, and he could see Apo's body tense as her pupils contracted.
"Where did you find that?"
"Does it look familiar?"
"Give me that!" Apo said, lunging at Scott to grab the painting, but the nobleman managed to dodge her.
"Come on, no need to get so worked up. It's you after all." Inside the cabin, he found a pile of paintings, most of them have the same person. The painting Scott held had worn paper and faded paint due to age, but it was still well-preserved enough to perfectly capture the features of the person in the painting, as if the artist had gone to great lengths to preserve the details.
Scott immediately recognized the woman in the paintings: the same red hair, the same eye color, the same face. It was her, it was Apo. The only thing that had changed was the expression.
"This just proves I'm right! You're over 200 years old! You're immortal! I know you're a vampire!" Scott said, still dodging Apo until she managed to snatch the paint from his hand, tearing his suit and drawing blood on his wrist with her claws.
When Apo had the paint in her hands (claws?), she froze, so focused on it that it seemed her world had shrunk to just her and the paint.
"What do you want, Scott?" Apo said, gripping the paint even tighter.
"I've come to propose a deal that can benefit us both. I'm willing to offer you a generous sum of money, enough to live surrounded by luxury for all your eternity, and in return, all you have to do is transform into one of your own."
"What?" Apo stared at Scott, confused, as if he had said something unthinkable.
"I want you to turn me into a vampire."
"Why... why would you want something like that? It's horrible."
"Oh, come on, immortality, power, eternal youth... you can't tell me you don't enjoy it even a little bit."
"No... I don't, and neither will you. You don't know what you're asking for."
"Oh, come on, it's a simple deal: you transform me, I give you money, and everyone's happy." Scott saw Apo look away and clench her fists. If she was going to play hard to get, two can play that game.
She wasn't going to deprive him of immortality.
"If you don't transform me, I'll tell the whole town you're a vampire. I'm sure the vampire hunter will love that little tidbit."
"What?... Why would you do that?... Are you seriously that desperate?!"
Scott saw Apo starting to get agitated, so this did affect her. He just needed to push the right buttons and he'd break her.
"There are two ways to do this: either you accept my deal where I give you money, or you face the crazy vampire hunter."
"What about you? They'll hunt you too if I turn you, don't you care?"
"Avid already thinks I'm a vampire. Why don't we make him right? That kid really needs a win."
"You'd have to drink blood, you'd have to kill to survive, you'd never be able to eat normal food again, you couldn't lie in the sun without it hurting. Don't you care about any of that?"
"Compared to the immortality and the power I can gain as a vampire, that's nothing."
Scott saw Apo's expression change, how she looked at him with a mixture of seriousness and anger.
"You'll have to watch everyone you've ever loved die before your eyes, watch them age and grow while you remain exactly the same. Doesn't that matter to you?" Apo said, staring at her hands as her breathing became ragged.
"Like I said, it's a small price to pay for immortality. I can always meet other people, people who won't die."
At that moment, Apo's breathing became labored, and as she stood up, unsheathed her claws, she said in a serious voice,
"If you're so desperate to be a vampire, why don't I give you the full experience?"
Apo slashed Scott with her claws, scratching his face. She punched him in the stomach with her other hand and then kicked him, sending him sprawling to the ground.
Things had definitely gone off plan. Scott had expected fangs, not claws.
Apo pinned Scott to the ground, clawing at his chest and pressing her knee into Scott's stomach. Scott tried to scream in pain, but Apo's hand stifled his scream, preventing him from moving his head.
Apo opened her mouth, baring her fangs.
At that moment, Scott felt something he had never felt before. It wasn't satisfaction, anger, or annoyance; it was fear—fear of losing his life, fear that his story would end like this, fear that his name would be forgotten. Scott was afraid of dying.
The movement was swift, yet slow. Scott felt an intense pain in his neck, unlike anything he had ever experienced. Then he felt his energy draining away. Was this really how it was going to end?
Just as he felt he was about to lose consciousness, something happened. The exhaustion vanished instantly, and he suddenly felt stronger, hungrier, thirstier.
Apo got off him, and with blood dripping from her mouth and dress, said, "Happy now?"
"Plenty," Scott said, sitting up and putting his hand to his neck with a smile that would surely show his new fangs.
I think one of the reasons why Rain Code hasn't really stuck for long with the general audience of players is because it's a 'one n done' experience for some where they go through the whole game n then swiftly move on to the next. And for a lotta people, the surface level experience with Rain Code ends up leaving people to judge it as a 'mid' game where half the mysteries don't seem to hold any importance or resonance with players, especially after the big final twist. I certainly don't blame anyone for judging it as such and leaving it as that (everyone experiences things how they want to, after all), but some part of me does feel sad that there are people who don't have the drive to dive deeper into Rain Code to really unearth the best parts of the game in my opinion.
To me, Rain Code is a game that you have to sit with and think about. The game's story truly shines its brightest when I took the time to constantly mull over the parallels and foiling between Yakou and Yomi, which then further expanded into including Yakou's wife and Hitman Zilch in the mix. This game thrives off of symbolism that people might not be able to catch on their first playthrough, along with excellent instances of foreshadowing that will haunt you if you let it fester in your brain for long enough. Rain Code has perfect moments outside of the game entirely, because nothing was more satisfying to me then when puzzle pieces of character dynamics clicked together in my mind several hours or even days after playing. You are encouraged to be your own detective and solve mysteries your own way! The actual cases of this game are just the tip of the iceberg! So far this has been the only game I've played where some of my favorite experiences happened when I wasn't even playing it! While it may sound like a backhanded compliment, I genuinely think that it's a wonderful feat to pull off so many presented ideas that will get dedicated players contemplating for days about the inner workings of the characters and setting. It's been rad to be a part of a community that worked (and at times still works) tirelessly to dissect every unexplained bit and piece left for us as we cling on tightly to enticing implications. Rain Code is very special to me, and I hope it will earn a legacy as a diamond in the rough.
Like. Beheading someone when you know that they will come back is one thing. Traumatizing? Sure. Murder is like that. But when they asked you themselves to do it and you know that they will be revived is one thing
In the second part ren is red. If he dies, he dies permamently. He attacks martyn himself. Martyn COULD kill ren. He COULD argue that he did it in self defense later on. Even if Skizz came over like he did in canon he could give him a beliveable story without even lying that much! Ren did attack him! He could have dogwarts to himself, he could have taken another player out of the game (both would increase his chances of winning by a lot) and EVEN IF he got killed by skizz as an act of revenge, he would be only YELLOW. Fuck, martyn himself said that he planned to betray ren at some point! This was the perfect opportunity!!!
AND HE DIDNT TAKE IT!!! HE STAYED LOYAL!!!! DO YOU SEE WHY IM SO FUCKING INSANE
Like i have read MULTIPLE FICS of 3rd life treebark where after the beheading they just completely ignore the second part which i feel like is wasted potential!!! Come on guys!!! The angst!!! The fucking angst!!!!
"You took me in when I was a lowly traveller, going across the lands, searching the four corners of this world, and I learned there was nothing in this world for me... Nothing but walls, corners, edges."
"And you know what? You showed me life."
"As much as I've taken it from you, you gave it back to me in buckets' fulls.
Another fun tidbit about this is how Martyn used the phrase "buckets' fulls" when it's a phrase that doesn't exist irl but in the context of living in a Minecraft world? Boy does it have quite the symbolism
If you take Evo as Traffic!Martyn's backstory prior to Third Life, then Netty would've taught Martyn how important water buckets are.
Using them to bucket clutch (which Martyn did in the solo Enderdragon fight. idk if the others died in that fight but if you say that they only had one life during that fight, then Martyn's journey would've ended right there and he would've never met Ren to be devoted to him)
Traverse up and down more easily, destroy minecart rails without wasting pickaxe durability (when Martyn revealed the failed tnt minecart enchanted table trap, he tried to disarm it by pouring water on it and thus destroy the rails- but that's not a feature anymore in modern Minecraft)
And save yourself from still being on fire.
Buckets are an important thing in Minecraft, especially to a survivalist. So to say that someone has given you buckets' fulls of something? That isn't something to be taken lightly.
Ren is his bucket of water that eases his pain, stops him from being hurt, and collects pieces of his heart. His bucket of milk that clears his mind and comforts him. And his bucket of lava that warms and protects him
Ah man, another reason why i should finally watch evo like ive been meaning to!!!!
The first thing that popped into my mind when it comes to martyn and buckets is the ending of limited life where he uses a bucket of lava to win, so thats another thing!!! (Especially since ren wasnt in limited life)
But man im definitely gonna be thinking about this. Man. How do you feel about the fact that you have made my already severe treebark brainrot even worse
Yeah, Martyn lava bucketing Scott in Limited Life also crosses my mind when contrasted to how Martyn puts Ren out of being on fire and how he instantly rushed in to stop Ren from getting hurt when he burned his own tower in Last Life
Very chuffed with myself if I do say so myself, Treebark is peak <33
Like. Beheading someone when you know that they will come back is one thing. Traumatizing? Sure. Murder is like that. But when they asked you themselves to do it and you know that they will be revived is one thing
In the second part ren is red. If he dies, he dies permamently. He attacks martyn himself. Martyn COULD kill ren. He COULD argue that he did it in self defense later on. Even if Skizz came over like he did in canon he could give him a beliveable story without even lying that much! Ren did attack him! He could have dogwarts to himself, he could have taken another player out of the game (both would increase his chances of winning by a lot) and EVEN IF he got killed by skizz as an act of revenge, he would be only YELLOW. Fuck, martyn himself said that he planned to betray ren at some point! This was the perfect opportunity!!!
AND HE DIDNT TAKE IT!!! HE STAYED LOYAL!!!! DO YOU SEE WHY IM SO FUCKING INSANE
Like i have read MULTIPLE FICS of 3rd life treebark where after the beheading they just completely ignore the second part which i feel like is wasted potential!!! Come on guys!!! The angst!!! The fucking angst!!!!
"You took me in when I was a lowly traveller, going across the lands, searching the four corners of this world, and I learned there was nothing in this world for me... Nothing but walls, corners, edges."
"And you know what? You showed me life."
"As much as I've taken it from you, you gave it back to me in buckets' fulls.
Another fun tidbit about this is how Martyn used the phrase "buckets' fulls" when it's a phrase that doesn't exist irl but in the context of living in a Minecraft world? Boy does it have quite the symbolism
If you take Evo as Traffic!Martyn's backstory prior to Third Life, then Netty would've taught Martyn how important water buckets are.
Using them to bucket clutch (which Martyn did in the solo Enderdragon fight. idk if the others died in that fight but if you say that they only had one life during that fight, then Martyn's journey would've ended right there and he would've never met Ren to be devoted to him)
Traverse up and down more easily, destroy minecart rails without wasting pickaxe durability (when Martyn revealed the failed tnt minecart enchanted table trap, he tried to disarm it by pouring water on it and thus destroy the rails- but that's not a feature anymore in modern Minecraft)
And save yourself from still being on fire.
Buckets are an important thing in Minecraft, especially to a survivalist. So to say that someone has given you buckets' fulls of something? That isn't something to be taken lightly.
Ren is his bucket of water that eases his pain, stops him from being hurt, and collects pieces of his heart. His bucket of milk that clears his mind and comforts him. And his bucket of lava that warms and protects him
Forever fascinated by the spectrum of morality in VSMP cause it’s like:
There’s Owen “I killed 2,799 people who I personally knew since childhood and who personally and viciously wronged me and took away my reason for living, and I don’t feel bad about it at all, I would do it all over again, why would I ever feel bad about my sins, they all hurt me first, they all deserve it, why are you looking at me with pity and disappointment, there was nothing else I could have done, I refuse to let anyone get away with that level of cruelty, I’ll go to hell a thousand times if it means I can make them suffer a fraction or the pain that my loved one felt in his dying moments, I’ll never repent, I’ll never seek forgiveness or accept the very same light that would damn someone as kind as him, we’re all monsters in the end, and I’ll drag us all down together to suffer the same fate”
And Legundo “I killed over 6,000 people in the most slow and horrific way, people who I did not personally know or have reason to care about, under orders I could have disobeyed but chose not to because it was the only way to end the war, and that decision haunts me every moment of my life and I reformed my whole existence around trying to do more good than the harm I’ve caused, even though I know nothing I do will ever fix it but that’s no excuse to just lay down and die, I have a penance to pay and by god I will pay it before the end, it’s the only thing letting me keep a grip on my sanity, and I’m terrified of how close I keep getting pulled to that edge”
And Cleo “I have killed well over 80,000 people, under duress and magical compulsion that I literally could not resist, at an age when I was too young to have any power over my circumstances, and I wish for death every day, this world would be better without me, and part of me also lowkey wishes that I never escaped because it was easier to be helpless, even though all I wanted was the freedom to make my own choices and not hurt anyone ever again, and now that I have that freedom I’m so scared of losing it again, I’m scared that I’m broken and will become the thing I tried to leave behind, I need someone to guide me and keep me on the right path and at the same time I don’t want anyone to look at me with anything like kindness ever again”
And Pearl “I only kill people who kill people, I make no distinction between humans and monsters, I give no allowance for being weak or cursed or taking vengeance or preventing more death or being unable to control yourself in the moment, it’s entirely your fault for raising your hand to another living being, no I don’t care if that vampire killed your family, I said what I said and I expect you to do what I did and be the better person, what’s a moral quandary, why are you mad at me, why is it so hard for you to just stop, look it’s so easy to stop, why are you making this complicated, just be a good person, it’s literally not even hard, will you all just stop-”
And Avid “I killed exactly one person in my life, and it was entirely my fault and my choice and my circumstances that caused it, and I’m so desperate to shift the blame that I will attack everyone but myself because it’s killing me to know I could have maybe prevented it, but I didn’t, and I accept all of the blame but also none of the blame because really it was Them who caused her to attack me, it’s Their fault, she wasn’t herself, I wasn’t killing her, I was only killing a Monster, there’s nothing inherently wrong with that, shut up, it’s not my fault (or maybe it actually was, maybe I’m just a murderer, maybe it should have been me all along, I wish someone would blame me and call me the monster that I am)”
And Drift “it’s my job to help people and imprison criminals, but the second that my life was personally threatened, I ran away and I feel so guilty for it because now there’s no one to stop the killer I was hunting, now every death that happens at the killer’s hands is on my conscience, because I could have stopped it or at least tried, but I didn’t, I ran away and I’m paralyzed at the thought of going back, I can’t face the reality of my own death, there’s nothing in this world worth sacrificing my life for, and I hate that I learned this about myself, I wanted to think I was strong and I was putting my life on the line to help others, but I just found out I’m the kind of coward who would let other people die to protect myself, and I am not okay, I look at the people around me and see them making hard choices and wonder where they found the strength, and then I wonder when I started equating strength with killing people, what is wrong with me, I wish I could be more like them, they make killing look so easy”
And Pyro “I have killed one person in my life, in a moment of uncontrollable rage, after years of enduring physical and emotional and mental abuse, and being told to just swallow it and be civil to my tormentor, until it all finally coalesced and pushed me to fight back, and I don’t know to this day if I was aiming to kill him or not, if something in me just snapped or if it was purely an accident and now I’m trying to take control and rationalize after the fact, I’ve never had control in my life, everything’s always been decided for me, I’ve been told over and over that I’m weak and stupid and impulsive, too emotional, not intellectual, I don’t belong in high society despite being born there, despite not having a choice, is it so wrong that I want to claw out a place for myself, why is it only wrong when I do violence, yet everyone else around me can commit violence against me without any consequence at all, I’ll show them what consequences look like, I’ll show them the beast they all claim to despise”
And Shelby “I’ve been told all my life about these creatures that are not human, these bedtime stories about killers and monsters and demons that I’m supposed to fear, yet they were told to me by the gentle voice of my dad, so of course I find comfort in tales of the dark, of course I want to find these monsters that are pushed to the fringes of society and make them all my friends, what do you mean they’re evil, can you blame them, maybe they’re just lonely, did you even think of that, maybe they just need someone to hold their hand and give them a hug and tell them that they don’t have to be alone anymore, maybe they just need to know that someone believes in them and cares about them, why else would they keep trying to steal away humans in the night, I would go with them if they asked, of course I would, I would kill people too if I was left all alone like that, why not, why does that shock you so much, do I really look that innocent to you, I’ll do anything if it means having a family again, I will tear apart anyone who tries to take my family away”
And Apo “of course I have morals, of course I have standards, I’m a soldier (I never wanted to be one) and I’m a good person (I try so hard to be one) and I want to help these stupid people and do the job I’ve been given to the best of my ability, except that the minute I take any action at all, I get told that it was the wrong choice, the immoral choice, why would you ever do that, you monster, you’re so selfish, were you even thinking before you did that (I agonize over every choice I make) but can’t they see that my intentions were good even if I messed up, doesn’t that count for something, why is forgiveness allowed for literal murderers and not me, fuck it, I’m abandoning my morals, it’s not like they got me anywhere, I might as well serve myself like everyone else is doing, only one person has ever understood me and I fucking love her and I’ll do anything to get back to her, oh my god why are you yelling at me again, you’re making it so damn hard to be a good person right now, I’m so tempted to just-”
And Scott “oh yeah, I’ve massacred civilizations, it was all the rage back in the day, it’s all I’ve ever known, I was born to power and I spent my life and unlife reaching for more power because why would I ever do anything else, moral quandary what’s that, never heard of her, don’t know her, I make all of your kill counts combined look laughable, if I ever had feelings and emotions they were buried a long time ago, yeah I had friends, they were all just like me, I made them just like me, I’m not out to enslave or torment anyone, I’m literally just over here living my best life, you should try it sometime, you should try not giving a shit, it’s great, it’s amazing, I promise my mental state is perfectly stable and not at all on the verge of total collapse after the loss of one fledgling, I’m not at all being overprotective of my remaining fledglings and considering altering my entire way of life and flipping my moral compass just because my new friends asked me nicely if we could please not massacre anyone, I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m totally fine you guys, I’m not looking back at my kill count and seeing the tsunami of repressed emotion about to sneak up and riptide me, I’m fine-”
And Sausage “of course I think about killing people, I’m a writer, it’s my job to think about these things, I spend all my days and nights hunched over a desk doing research and using fiction as a medium to explore all kinds of taboo topics, isn’t it kind of interesting to see what the human mind can come up with, isn’t it fun to think about how the only thing stopping most of us from being killers is a silly little thing like laws and morals, what do you mean that’s just me, you’re lying, I know you’re lying, everyone fantasizes about what they would do if they had unlimited power and no one to stop them from killing everyone who mildly annoys them, it’s totally normal for me to run off into the wilderness and throw myself at a vampire and beg to be turned, we all secretly want it, I’m just the only one not pretending anymore, come on, come play with me, I know it’s getting a little real now and I’m actually kind of scared, but I don’t know how to turn back now, I don’t know if I can or if I want to, I can’t even do the cool metaphorical thing of looking in the mirror to see what I’m becoming, please someone tell me that it’s not too late to turn back”
And Martyn “you see the thing about morals is, you assume I have them, I don’t or I try not to, it gets in the way of getting what I want, which right now is a safe place to lay my head, I’ll stay here for awhile, why not, these people look nice and gullible, I can tell them any sob story I want and they’ll accept it, they’ve actually been more kind of me than I expected, they’ve gone out of their way to look out for me and keep me fed and safe, and I keep looking for the underlying motive in their actions and coming up with nothing, and it’s hitting me now after realizing the danger we’re all in that a lot of them are genuinely good people stuck in bad circumstances and I don’t want them to die just for that, I’ve been there, I always wished someone had been there to help me, so I’ll gear up and do whatever it takes to get us all to safety, I’ve never been the hero in any story before and I’m finding it’s actually nice to feel like I’m strong and I have someone to protect, I’ll make the decisions that they won’t, I’ll hold them up when they falter, I’ll be the light in the dark, and for just a brief moment I’ll get to see what it’s like to be on this side of things, the one that stays instead of the one that runs away”
And Abolish “you see the thing about morals is, not everyone can afford them, and I get that, I really do get it, this world is not a kind one, I’ve experienced that for myself and you do what you have to for the sake of survival, it becomes purely a numbers game, there are people with power and people without it and the scales won’t be balanced unless some of these people with power actually get up and start doing things for the benefit of the rest, I never expected to be one of those people with the power, it kind of snuck up on me, but I’m here now so I might as well do the job, there’s no point in making this world worse but there is a purpose in making it better, I don’t really know if I’m making it better or not, I’m definitely doing more killing than I care to, and I’m so damn tired all the time, honestly just point me at the monsters and hand me a crossbow, I’ll deal with it as fast as I can and try not to think too much about the moral implications of it all, I just hope that if my soul ever becomes corrupted or if I go off the proverbial deep end, there’ll be someone else ready to stand in my way and do what has to be done, please don’t make me explain my reasoning to you, it’s both simple and complicated, and please for the love of god, don’t make me kill you”
And Ren “the most traumatic thing that ever happened to me was an act of absolute senseless cruelty with no purpose or reason behind it, and I can’t even speak of it without everyone mocking me and laughing because they assume my story is a joke, and now I struggle to trust anyone, human or monster alike, for fear of being tricked again, I withdraw and recoil from genuine acts of kindness, I cannot look into someone’s face without trying to see the lie behind their smile, the poison in their honeyed words, I beg anyone to heed my warnings as I watch my friends fall to the same darkness that cursed me one by one, I can no longer trust any of them, I know that I must kill them before they escape and hurt anyone else, before they hurt me, and yet I struggle to raise my hand against them, I can’t understand what would drive a man to become the very same monster that left my life in ruins, I cling to my humanity and my hatred of the darkness as the last thing I have left of my mother, and if I can’t bring myself to kill these creatures, then at least I will die before I become like them”
Like. Beheading someone when you know that they will come back is one thing. Traumatizing? Sure. Murder is like that. But when they asked you themselves to do it and you know that they will be revived is one thing
In the second part ren is red. If he dies, he dies permamently. He attacks martyn himself. Martyn COULD kill ren. He COULD argue that he did it in self defense later on. Even if Skizz came over like he did in canon he could give him a beliveable story without even lying that much! Ren did attack him! He could have dogwarts to himself, he could have taken another player out of the game (both would increase his chances of winning by a lot) and EVEN IF he got killed by skizz as an act of revenge, he would be only YELLOW. Fuck, martyn himself said that he planned to betray ren at some point! This was the perfect opportunity!!!
AND HE DIDNT TAKE IT!!! HE STAYED LOYAL!!!! DO YOU SEE WHY IM SO FUCKING INSANE
Like i have read MULTIPLE FICS of 3rd life treebark where after the beheading they just completely ignore the second part which i feel like is wasted potential!!! Come on guys!!! The angst!!! The fucking angst!!!!
"You took me in when I was a lowly traveller, going across the lands, searching the four corners of this world, and I learned there was nothing in this world for me... Nothing but walls, corners, edges."
"And you know what? You showed me life."
"As much as I've taken it from you, you gave it back to me in buckets' fulls.
And I'm with you."
"This is us now.
This is us."
Royal Procrastinator @mayashesfly - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
