. . .Going through the same procedure for what would (hopefully) be the last time in a while. . .
He popped the bunker door open to murmuring tower denizens.
Though unsatisfying, the nightmare was over. Fishing through his pockets, Pizzahead planted a complete tent on the ground. Continuing to ignore the questions being spat at him, he dashed inside and zipped the door shut.
Inside, of course, a fully-furnished office with a magnificently mahogany desk. Pizzahead plopped onto his chair, tucked his legs, and spun around as he formed a list. He'd need a new tower, confer with the shareholders, update his security, and...
The chair came to a halt as he kicked his legs and leaned back. Fishing through his pockets, he pulled out his already-lit pipe. With the weight of that paper still heavy in his shirt pocket, he took a draw as he thought back to the unconscious Peppino and the lucky-to-still-be-standing Noise. As the one who fought BOTH, seeing them struggle naturally put sweat on his crust.
No one's gonna accept an apology from the bad guy, so. . .
He may as well do the thing that always worked.
Pulling out his Pizzaboy-themed checks and a Pizzaboy-branded pen, he tapped his chin twice... and began to write.
. . .Going through the same procedure for what would (hopefully) be the last time in a while. . .
He popped the bunker door open to murmuring tower denizens.
Though unsatisfying, the nightmare was over. Fishing through his pockets, Pizzahead planted a complete tent on the ground. Continuing to ignore the questions being spat at him, he dashed inside and zipped the door shut.
Inside, of course, a fully-furnished office with a magnificently mahogany desk. Pizzahead plopped onto his chair, tucked his legs, and spun around as he formed a list. He'd need a new tower, confer with the shareholders, update his security, and...
The chair came to a halt as he kicked his legs and leaned back. Fishing through his pockets, he pulled out his already-lit pipe. With the weight of that paper still heavy in his shirt pocket, he took a draw as he thought back to the unconscious Peppino and the lucky-to-still-be-standing Noise. As the one who fought BOTH, seeing them struggle naturally put sweat on his crust.
No one's gonna accept an apology from the bad guy, so. . .
He may as well do the thing that always worked.
Pulling out his Pizzaboy-themed checks and a Pizzaboy-branded pen, he tapped his chin twice... and began to write.
In a spiraling flourish of smoke, Death reemerged within the sanctity of the Lost World. Already, he could feel his strength returning to him in droves, now that he was awake and surrounded by a decent number of spirits who wandered the space. A few new wisps decidedly approached to hover about his shoulders, given those which had been with him prior expended their energy. They should regain their form later, albeit not as bright as before. Not like their visibility would matter, because what they had done should prepare them for the journey ahead.
Speaking of. The very reasons why he had hurried home were waiting for him.
“Please excuse me for my tardiness. It’s been a busy night; I’m sure you both understand.”
A wry smile was given to the two figures. They had been a little unclear before, but now he could fully see them for who they were. Did they somehow know he would not have recognized them in their purest states? Regardless, it was pleasant to see their faces one last time, given what they were here for.
The more amicable of the two was the first to approach. Her rosy pink form was just as warm as she was in personality, exhibiting her kindness and the love she felt towards the people who surrounded her. An internal wish for her family and friends to carry on and support each other shone brightly within.
@rosadolces asked: ' ... Could you make sure this gets to someone important to me? ' A familiar, pink ribbon was placed in his hands. The spirit offered a gentle smile. ' And ... Thank you for helping them. I'm ready. '
Oh? Never has anything like this happened before. Spirits usually could not carry physical objects for obvious reasons. However, if he had to hazard a guess, it must have been out of sheer will that she was able to bring it here. After all, it was meant for someone she cared deeply about.
Curiously, he accepted the accessory, holding it delicately. As she handed it to him, a visual of the person she was referring to flickered in his mind. Even still, his powers were a little unstable, though he was not complaining. This made things much easier on him. He could even see where he should be able to deliver it.
“Of course.” Nodding to her, he carefully tucked the ribbon into storage for now. “I know I’ve already expressed my gratitude before, but… you both truly shined out there. What you did, it was nothing short of valiant. I don’t doubt everyone is grateful for all you have done to protect them, as well.”
A soft, low breath was taken. He had only met them during the battle, and yet, it felt so strange to do this. Opening his palms, his scythe materialized, naturally setting in his grip.
“Alright then.” Tightening his hold, he waited for Cotton Candy to revert to a wisp-like state, indicating her preparedness. Then, he raised his scythe high over his head and swung down, cleaving into the center.
It was not painful. It was liberating, in every sense of the word. All the weight of reality which bore on her soul was released, separating it from the mortal world. Shining like a star, a twinkling white light broke free from the flame, and it began to drift away towards the glowing tunnel in the back.
“Safe travels, and take care.” He waved, watching her until she vanished into the gate.
Then, his gaze shifted to the other one. Fittingly, he was a bright burning red, which is a passionate color in itself. Ever the warrior, fighting for the sake of strength itself – until that strength could be used for a greater purpose. One he may not have anticipated, but he adapted. Perhaps he even learned a little more about what it meant to live.
@pizzatrocious asked: "Whatever lies ahead, I hope it ain't too peaceful. A fighter like me needs something to keep 'em sharp, y'know?" The spirit paused for a moment, pondering the possibilities of the afterlife.
"...Eh, non è importante. Just send me on over."
Truthfully, Death did not know what lurked beyond the gate. It could be anything, really. For all he knew, the afterlife might cater to everyone who passed certain checks. Whatever those checks might be, he did not doubt either of these two were qualified. They had sacrificed so much, and grew tremendously in such a short amount of time.
“Who knows? It might be everything you could have ever dreamed of and more.” His head tilted. There could be plenty of people like him, just waiting for a new challenge. He most certainly could provide.
Best not to keep him waiting, either way. It looked like he was raring to go.
“Very well. I’ll make this quick.”
Just like before, Death allowed Shadough to shift back into a sphere of spectral fire for the ritual. Again, he lifted his scythe high over his head and swung down, severing his bond with reality. Any burdens he might carry, they were gone in the blink of an eye.
Another star rose from within. Somehow, he felt like this one was going to bolt, so he said his farewells immediately. “May you find what you’re looking for in the great beyond. Take care, now.”
Aaand he zipped off, towards the great unknown.
Silently, the reaper looked back, staring at the entrance to the afterlife with a mild somberness. It was bittersweet, watching them go. But he knew they would be happier there, no longer under the threat of someone else’s control. They were free to be who they wanted to be, without anything holding them back.
His scythe was dismissed.
“Well. That’s that. There’s only one thing left to do now.”
Closing his eyes, he vanished once again, taking the three souls lingering about him. Time to repay the favor.
So! With the end of this wonderful little event, I do have a bit of a bittersweet announcement.
I'll still be around here and there on a low-effort multimuse I plan to make a while from now... but, save for any light activity you'll still see from me, I plan on retiring from writing.
I'm not retiring for any bad reasons, quite the opposite! But as someone that's been writing on Tumblr for roughly... 14 years? I think I've done most of what I've wanted to do. Every kind of thread you can imagine, every type of character, and every type of genre. For the past few years I've jumped blogs A LOT, but really only because I loved chasing whatever next big thing felt fun to write.
I was here when ask blogs were the standard instead of RP blogs, regardless of whether or not the mun could draw. I remember my first ever Bowser RP blog, iconless and full of crack on a classic Redux theme. I unfortunately remember the Homestuck and Danganronpa craze, and an era where icons were a semi-new novelty that only the 'fancy' blogs used. I remember back when a majority of the Pokemon RPC was a fairly popular crack group that, at its peak, had 300~ active blogs all at once.
I remember the Splatoon Marie roleplayer that chased after me, even when I'd socially isolate myself during the darkest spots of my life, and the Rosalina blog she made later down the line. You might know her now as my wife, Rosie. Funny to think, our more popular duo wound up being Peach and Bowser.
I remember all the different iterations of the Smash RPCs, and all the people that rocked the community with every post. Then there was the Sonic RPC, a place that was almost torn apart by an awful person's hold on the community, only to rise from the ashes! That RPC's pretty quiet nowadays, but those guys may as well be sleeper agents for Sonic content.
Then there's the people I affectionately call 'The Elder Gods'. The ones that, despite being here over a DECADE, they still dedicate themselves to the same characters they always have. They're usually the ones with the ancient-looking blogs that go largely under-the-radar nowadays, but they're the foundation that built these writing communities. You guys mostly just keep to yourselves nowadays, but I see you.
And of course, my good ol' kindred spirits, the people that roleplay the most obscure, hyper-specific characters. Those one-off indie games, obscure shows, characters stuck to a spinoff title or are just dubiously canon, or characters with basically no canon that they've made into their own!
Of course, that's not to forget the people that take the big popular characters, and absolutely ROCK them in a way that makes the character all their own. Gotta toot my own horn, considering one of my old Bowser blogs had a couple thousand followers.
I could go on, and on, and on... but long story short, I've had a great time here.
Part of me never wants to stop, to be honest. But in all this time, I've become a different person. My hobbies have changed, my interests have changed, I'm a completely different person now! But I've also always been a stubborn creature of habit, never wanting to give anything up.
As a result of being anchored to my old habits so long, I'm left a little at a loss for what I want in life. More and more I've felt like a caged animal, just circling around my little enclosure and doing the same things over and over for enrichment. Add to that the usual struggles of adult life being rough and expensive, and you can imagine wanting to spend more of my time on survival is a factor too.
Nobody's gonna know what I really want now, except for me. I need to get out there and do some soul-searching. Find new hobbies, make new friends, experience new things... who knows what I'll be doing a year from now!
That said, I give my genuine, most heartfelt thank you to everyone I've ever crossed paths with in throughout all of the Tumblr RPCs I've been in. Honestly, the only reason I don't list off names is purely because I want to make sure nobody gets left out of my little expression of gratitude. You all know who you are, anyway.
I wish I could've known some of you a little better... but that's just life, isn't it? Sometimes the most impactful people in your lives are the ones you never get to really know. I'm sure I've gotten to be that person for my own fair share of people, with how reclusive I tend to be.
Again, this isn't goodbye. I mean, I'd be a little embarrassed if people thought I was gone forever, only for me to pop up a week or two later. This is a hobby I've always loved, I'll always find my way back to it. I'll always be lurking about, sometimes posting during funny shenanigans. Like I said at the start of this post, I plan on making a private, low-effort multimuse! Mostly I'll just use it to keep tabs on my friends and the writers I really enjoy seeing, but I still have a small list of characters I'd like to play around with a little.
Otherwise though, it's time to leave the nest and try other things.
Right. Of course. The other was his own individual, as was he. He was Peppino, the other was... A slight head tilt. Did he not know his brothers own name? Maybe he was just so caught up in everything else, that he... He holds back a sigh. Some memories just weren't really as solid as he wanted them to be. He wanted to run that Pizzeria so desperately that he did all of these things to try to be seen as real, because..?
The other was already leaving, as well. It was truly a fleeting moment, wasn't it? The usually selfish beast couldn't help but offer a light frown as his initial response. Maybe he had truly gotten lonely in this mansion... He hopes Pepperman comes home, after this. Bit silly, how his closest allies are a pepper and... A different version of himself, an actual Peppino, but still. Better than nothing.
"Well, if you insist, I won't stop you." A hand is casually placed into his own cheek as he lets out a small hum. It really didn't take much to convince him that they were related. The vibes certainly helped, but. "I won't tell anyone that you stopped by, if that helps."
Though, if there were cameras in here, as well...
"Things will get-a better. Even if it takes forever... Like trying to create the perfect painting." He quietly muses. Pretentious fuck. He drinks the little remaining coffee in the mug. What the hell was the other eating, actually...
A part of him really did regret not showing up sooner. While he was so entrenched in his obsession with hijacking NTV and getting to Peppino, he never once considered the power of a support system. He may have been a star, but all the guys that stay behind the scenes really do matter, huh...
Then again, who knows what jackassery he would've caused, had he shown up while still riding the manic highs of freedom.
"...Like painting the perfect painting, or putting on a WONDERFUL SHOW! I'll keep my head in the clouds and my feet on the ground until then!"
Not wanting to leave the other with a mess (and because he still wanted more), he was careful to wrap up the remaining crackers and close the jar of caviar, tucking them under his hat for later. In a redundant (but silly) move, he reached just barely out of view, grabbing a stick with a cloth bundle hanging off of the end, slinging it over his shoulder.
As the background music began to slowly fade (evidently not coming from a music player), he waved to his newfound friend, giving a genuine smile for what might have been the second time in his life.
"Taaaaaake care, brother! I'll keep in contact, when the coast's a little more clear. 'Till then, just keep on being you!"
Zucchini returned the other's bewilderment with a frustrated huff, almost expecting that his internal guess was right before the other replied. 'Peppino' had gotten too soft if he was working with that cretin. If that were him, he would've left Noise to suffer on his own accord. Though, if he knew what the other was doing to 'Peppinos' co-workers... Right, they were his. That faker didn't deserve them. He would've gotten rid of the other day one.
When the other mentioned that Peppino was apparently out cold, and how Noise had to wrap it all up... His hand nearly crushed the mug it was holding. Why did people think that faker was real? The real Peppino wouldn't have passed out in a fight. The real Peppino was unstoppable. Powerful. Even when it looked like the odds of winning were next to none, he still got up. This is also the guy who was doing this like, ten minutes ago.
"Hmph." Any genuine suspicion he had of the other was dashed in favor of remaining bitter towards his fake. "I don't understand how-a people stay by his side, really."
There's a lot of thought in his eyes as he settles down and thinks. It is bizarre, comparing him to the other clones. Being content with not being Peppino... That's what makes them fake. If you aren't Peppino, then what are you? If you aren't going to be useful, then I'll make you useful in becoming the actual Peppino.
...The other was knocked out, though. Even if he was awake now, he was certainly in a weakened state. Hmmm. Despite the other's failure against the totally out of character team-up, he could potentially use this as an opportunity... He'll think on it. But if he gets that chance...
"...I was just looking over this place for a friend, I never would've thought all of that was-a going on." He shook his head, again. "Get used to biding your time. People are-a going to be mad at you for a very long time. Unfortunately."
"Yeah... dunno what I plan on doing yet, but I'm gonna be staying FAAAAAR away from that scene. But it's nothing I'm not used to, lotsa people doubted me back in Italy, even held me back. But now, even if I got my own share of problems, I'm MY OWN master now!"
Of course... that did leave the golden question of what he'd even DO during his time in hiding. As much as he hated taking orders from others, perhaps he could try his hand at a local theatre far from here? He'd be able to easily keep a low profile for a while, even if he started building a reputation on the stage. Plus, even if the cameras weren't rolling, he could still scratch the itch to perform.
...Wait, since when did the cameras stop rolling? That's weird.
Instead of dwelling on that matter, he decided to cast it aside in favor of the conversation at hand.
It didn't take much for the Noise clone to realize something was boiling underneath the surface of the Peppino clone. After all, a part of most clones was very animalistic in nature, so body language was always key. Though he hadn't had the time to check EVERY note that Pizzahead kept, he knew that as a fellow 'impostor', the other was bound to get himself into trouble.
While he knew he couldn't stop it from happening—it was never really his business to begin with—he at least hoped that the experience was a little less traumatic for the Peppino clone. Seriously, this was REALLY gonna hit the snake like a ton of Bricks (the rat) in the morning. Could a clone even GO to therapy? Things for later.
"I should proooooobably get goin' in a sec... angry mobs and all. But... whatever happens on your end, I'll be rootin' for ya! I can say from my own experience, having most of the world against ya is rough. So make sure that ya always keep the people that ARE on your side in mind."
...Maybe Fake Noise did like caviar. Guess he'll just have to take a while to figure it out.
A large hand grips at the coffee mug. There was a tenseness to it all, truly. He was genuinely thinking the other was using his own tricks against him... The whole 'pretending to be family' rugpull worked extremely well with his faker. He wouldn't let it get to him if that were the case. But that feeling of genuine familiarity... That couldn't be faked, right? A brain that had clearly developed much more thanks to some unwilling help strained itself.
There's another dreadfully long silence as the other 'explains' himself. Yes, the other did look like Noise. Zucchini reminded himself that there were many people in the world that would coincidentally look like you, not intentionally look like you... As much of a one in a million chance that would be. Though, having a brother that looked a bit too much like Noise did seem like a cruel twist of fate.
...Cruel twists of fate certainly did happen to Peppino a lot though, hm.
His expression doesn't completely soften, but the fact that he hasn't just gone 'nuh-uh' and lunged for the other at this point was, well. Good for Snoise, awful for readers who might've wanted to see these two bastards tear each other apart.
"Seriously?" Brows raised, seemingly connecting a few dots on his own, "People are mad at you for messing with-a Noise?" Though, he guessed Noisette must've been a factor... And whenever she got upset, well. He shook his head. "Cruel world."
A swig of coffee. Even if it was poisoned, poison wouldn't stop him at this point.
"...Was my fake involved?" He half-grumbles, already nosy about his status. "Surely he didn't get in the way, right? Why would the actual Peppino ever help Noise?"
Bastard apparently had a soft spot for Noisette as he still did, deep down, but surely even that wouldn't drive any self-respecting Italian man to help a lousy pizza-hating rat like Noise out, right?
Fake Noise relaxed ever-so-slightly, shoulders dropping a little as he listened to the other. It seemed like he'd made the correct choice of words to ease the tension a little! All he had to do was keep it up, and he'd be able to...
. . .
...huh. He didn't really have a goal here, did he? He was so used to manipulating his way into and out of situations, that he hadn't even thought about why he was thinking that way now. Though the thought would never cross the fake's mind, perhaps it was a desire for connection...
Then, came the inquiry about Peppino. Oh, how that simple question opened the floodgates for the Noise clone. He took careful note of the usage of the word 'fake', bringing to mind some of the 'attack frogs' that HATED the idea that the real Peppino was... well, the real Peppino.
"Y'see, that's EXACTLY what I don't GET!! He WAS involved!" He gave the other a genuine look of bewilderment, a look that really said 'Get a load of THIS guy!' as he waved his cigar-equipped hand frantically for emphasis. Genuinely, how the hell did that happen. He'd already pieced together that his little stunt had turned into a full-blown crisis, judging by the amount of people in the audience that wanted him dead. But REALLY? Peppino and THE NOISE???
"NOT ONLY did your fake team up with that rat, he got himself knocked out cold like a total chump! The guy was out here TAKIN' A SNOOZE while that idiot picked up ALLLLLLLLL the slack!" As he talked, he prepared and ate another cracker with caviar, eyes trailing to the side as pondered for a moment on whether he even liked it. Maybe? Maybe not? He wasn't really sure yet.
"Guy's a total joke, if you ask me. Dunno what makes him think he's the real deal."
Eyes had snapped open a while back. A bit of alarm had shot through him, but had quickly settled down. He honestly assumed was a shriek of some sort of wretched bird, because. Why else would he assume something would be around the corner? Pepperman wasn't even around, so there wasn't exactly a need to visit him. Zucchini hadn't... Been out, for a while, so nobody would pursue him in the one place nobody would look. He got up. Maybe he'd just continue to do some cleaning despite dusting off the place... Multiple times at this point. Eventually getting up from a bed that wasn't his, he walked out...
...And he stops right in his tracks, staring at the other. Unblinking.
Wh... Who-- No, what was he looking at. It became blaringly obvious that Zucchini did not turn on that nearby TV even once throughout the whole ordeal as he doesn't react as he would if he did. Funny. Comical, even. But he still felt as if he and the other had known each other for so long. Peppino loathed Noise. Zucchini was also aware Noise wasn't exactly prepping anything good for him after the erm. Tiny stuff. He almost tugs at his own collar even thinking about it.
Did... Peppino have brothers? Cousins? Zucchini had indeed used the 'cousin from Venice' ploy himself, so who's to say this intruder wasn't pulling a fast one on him with his own little tactic? They looked nothing alike. Was the other seriously from Italy? No accent, mustache too long, eyes too round...
Yet, something about the other demanded some sort of casual formality.
... The urge to lash out at 'Noise', another urge to simply go utterly ballistic and lunge for the other for daring to come into his territory permeated within him as he remained silent for a dreadfully tense amount of time.
Before he closes the distance, hands slowly going behind his back as he does so. His form towers over the other for a moment, unblinking eyes looking right at the other. Leaning forward and just biting down on the others head to shake him around like a chew toy was still a tempting thing to do, but. Maybe it was the fact that he was genuinely well rested. Maybe it was that sense of proper, albeit vague familiarity that somehow seemed so rare to come by nowadays... Or maybe he had gotten lonely, waiting for Pepperman to come back and not exactly wanting to leave the Mansion, either...
...That he sat down in the chair. Looking over at the other, eyes gradually becoming properly lidded again as fingers drum on the table's edge. You've got his casual attention, somehow. Many questions clearly flash through his eyes, but.
"You're trespassing, you know." He half-murmurs the obvious. "Did you just get lucky in finding me? Or did you think this was the best place to-a hide, as well." Because I won't let you stay.
To say that the Noise clone was a little bit nervous about the interaction would be an understatement. This was, after all, a Peppino clone, even if this one was generally considered more advanced than most of the others. ...Although, even if it is in a Peppino clone's nature to hate The Noise, this one IS different in many ways...
Regardless, he likes to think he was brought here for a reason, so he just has to trust his Rosepetal.
And so, he held back every urge to react violently when the other loomed over him. He may have just had some of his strength restored thanks to reasons he doesn't want to linger on, but he wasn't exactly prepared to turn this place into another studio. Even with Pizzahead's magic, he wasn't nearly as powerful without that studio.
Besides, if he couldn't talk this guy down, then what kind of TV personality was he?
"Yeesh, tough crowd." He tugged at his own bowtie nervously. No respect, no respect at all. "I'm not interested in steppin' on your turf pal, not one bit! Haven't ya ever had family visit ya before?"
He had to muster up the strength of EVERY fiber in his being to hide the lightbulb that would've otherwise popped in above his head. He wasn't in the mood to chew on some glass this time, anyway. Maybe a bit later...
"...After all, isn't that what a true blue Italian family does? I may not look it, but I come from the same flesh and blood as you!" He took a moment to pop the cracker with caviar into his maws, quick to wolf it down with the inelegance of eating a potato chip. "Long story short, let's just say I was..."
Hm. Gotta think of a way to not give this guy too much clone dysphoria, or he might wind up gettin' hostile again. Maybe a good choice in wording...
"...I was hired to impersonate your co-worker. You know, that guy ya can't stand? Think of it like giving him a taste of his own medicine for once." After all, Peppino did hate The Noise.
"Though... maybe I shoulda been more focused on bein' better than him in my own way instead of trying to play the same act."
Zucchini would walk in on the Noise clone sitting at the dining room table, fidgeting with an unlit cigar in one hand while carefully spooning stolen caviar onto a cracker with the other. Thank you Pepperman, I will not be paying you back. Music played softly in the background, perhaps a little too on the nose for the pretentious Noise. A sense of familiarity could be strongly felt between the two clones, despite the two never meeting before...
"…Y'know, I've been in town for a while since I left Italy, and I've never even ONCE thought to visit my brother. Pretty screwed up, eh!?" Fake Noise lets out a low, quiet cackle.
"And now I'm gonna be skipping town again! Partied a little too hard, hurt a BUNCHA people, got even MORE people wantin' my head on a pike! You know how it is, don't you." He may have been created much sooner than the other, but you can imagine he'd seen MORE than enough about the Peppino clone that rose above the others. Not to mention all the tabs Pizzahead kept on everyone, which were quick to fall into the Noise clone's hands when he temporarily took over.
Were this a few days sooner, he'd probably try to absorb Zucchini like the rest. But now, he seemed relaxed and completely disinterested in attacking, something his body language easily expressed to the other. He gestured toward the chair next to him, a mug of coffee sitting in front of it at the table.
"Impostor Syndrome's a &%#!^, huh? I hope you're doin' a looooooot better than I am."
Cotton Candy was too stunned for words. Would that have been a better or worse? She, her clutch, and the friends who escaped the crumbling tower of pizza and survived that horrid night were programmed to be Peppino. Try as they did, their only success was in making his name too unbearable to carry.
...And that's how they came together. Peppino became Papeeno. Peppino became Tape. Peppino became Jae 2. Peppino became Cotton Candy. They could never imagine what life would be like outside of the tower, or how happy their escape would make them. Cotton Candy got to eat yummy food! She could bake crummy desserts out of dirt without discipline. She could watch Gold catch Pokeymanz, paint, and do everything she couldn't have done under the oppressive machinery of Italy.
Shadough never had that chance to be happy, and that made her ... sad.
So much so, that she almost missed the question.
' Father once mentioned he wanted to be remembered for ... something. ' From his castles, treasures, and video games, he had the ambition to go down in history! She'd caught his half-asleep rambles about how no one expected him to find success and how much he knew they were wrong — how he had his own way of tackling challenges; the Wario way. It's hard not to let that fiery ambition against all odds infect you, Mother once said. How right she was.
' I guess... I understand that, ya know? ' A faint giggle. ' We did something incredible together. Something I never thought I'd be able to do. Ever! In my life. '
Her gaze drifted in the direction of home.
' ... There's no telling if I could even make it, to tell you the truth. ' Indeed, the thought of fixing herself crossed her mind... as well as several concerns that would only bring more grief to all parties involved. ' I think... it's better if they remember me valiantly than to watch me struggle on some minuscule, unfavorable chance. ' She wouldn't let them lose her a second time.
' I saved them, just as they saved me with their love. ' A careful pause... Somewhere, there's a grateful smile. It's for Papeeno, Tape, Gold, Jae 2, the pink bunny lady, her parents... and especially for Shadough. ' Though I'll miss them terribly... I have no regrets. '
'...Being remembered as valiant, huh? Sounds nice...'
He definitely understood that one. What with the way he went out on his own terms, when he was certain his death was near. He remembered the growing impatience on the Noise clone's face as Shadough's body grew weaker and weaker, and he knew... his time was up. Better to go out on a memorable note, as opposed to dying with a sad, forgettable whimper. He wasn't exactly the type to stay in anyone's heart, but at the very least... he hoped he made an impression with those watching his final moments.
'...We should get things wrapped up here, though.' He held up one of their hands, the surface of it constantly melting and reshaping, droplets running down their arm. 'I don't think this damn thing's gonna hold together much longer.'
With a bit of a struggle, he picked up the pencil they'd previously grabbed, and got to work. Shadough didn't have much of anything to say, especially to people he's never met... so he decided to let CC take the lead.
It was admittedly a bit of a struggle, but they managed to write out a fairly cohesive message on the receipt paper. Peppino clones weren't exactly known for fine motor control, but luckily Shadough was designed with a little more precision in mind. He focused the last of his energy on guiding CC's hand steadily through the process, making sure that she signed it at the end.
And with that, remained Shadough's own little parting gift... a bit of a parting taunt, as opposed to something with heartwarming intent. He reached into their doughy body, and rummaged clumsily for a moment, until... he pulled one of the broken halves of his blade from their body, holding the hilt in their hand. He stared for a moment, their reflection looking back at them in the pale moonlight, before placing it gently atop the piece of paper.
'Maybe now we can get some rest... See ya on the other side, kid.'
. . .
They turned slightly, staring up at the beautiful night sky. For a moment, they both pondered what could have been, the endless stars in the sky bringing to mind infinite possibilities. A world where they could both live their lives the way they wanted, free from the shackles of their existences.
For Shadough, a world of endless adventure and challenge, a world where he can truly hone his abilities and become a respected warrior.
For Cotton Candy, a world where she could be herself and live a simple life, surrounded by friends and family.
Soon, hopeful daydreams slowly slipped into peaceful dreams, their starry visions gently fading as they slipped slowly, slowly... into a peaceful slumber.
'Thank you for everything . . .'
'. . . Good night.'
Dizzy is her vision through his eyes. Would she have known where they were if Shadough never spoke up? She poured the last of her strength into operating their shared form, and her trust into his abilities. Cotton Candy hadn't noticed they left the field until they were trekking through the night, comforted by the stars above.
' Thank you ... ' Her conscious meekly managed. By the time Shadough was consumed, most of what made Cotton Candy herself had been... lost. A damaged, doughy core barely clinging on if only for the slim, slim chance of being able to do something more. She fought for every second she could, even if her strongest, fiercest effort resulted in a mockery of her original self.
Then he joined her in the belly of the beast, sparking the last bit of hope her soul could muster.
' ...Why did you let me stay? ' CC couldn't question it in the chaos. When she reached out, she'd fear he'd reject her for being too weak. When he accepted, she was ready to relinquish the rest of herself to him. Now they were sitting where her new life began, hidden away in a silence unfitting of her happier memories. ' You're stronger than me. CC thought for sure, you'd... ' Her thoughts cut off, as if cursing herself for almost making such a cruel comparison.
Not even he, as terrifying as he'd been to her, deserved that.
He pondered in silence for a moment, thoughts swirling about in their mind like clouds on a windy day. He knew an answer like that was a bit too simple, a bit too dismissive, so he thought of how to follow up. After a moment of silence between the two, he continued.
'I was made for one thing, and one thing alone... to be able to surpass Peppino in combat... But I guess I got a bit ahead of myself there.' Perhaps he should have listened to Pizzahead... but what did that guy know? After all, he created a clone designed to have a rebellious edge, yet never expected him to actually rebel against his orders. What good was sitting around and waiting, for a guy like Shadough?
'Hell, my original plan was to go around absorbing my brethren until I was strong enough. But here I am, helping one of 'em instead.' The clones' body heaved slightly, attempting to let out a pained laugh at the thought of it. 'I stood no chance, the guy's good. But not because of any sorta training or power boosts... nah, the guy just had something to fight for.'
And boy, did he fight for it. Though Shadough had severely underestimated his own body's constitution, that didn't change the fact that Peppino had thoroughly thrashed him. Only in death would he be willing to admit it, but a part of him felt like even under better circumstances, he wouldn't have beaten Peppino. Not in any way that would've mattered, at least.
'...Guess I wanted to see what that was like.' For all his feelings on friendship being a liability, Shadough still wasn't one to shy away from anything that he deemed would make him stronger, physically or mentally. Call it a lame excuse to do something nice, but he'd never gotten the chance to think about right and wrong to begin with. Not many of the clones did... not even the one he briefly worked with, as much as he hated that guy.
'What about you, why aren't you trying to repair yourself? Y'sure are leaving a whole lot behind, yourself. Ya got WAY more of a future than a guy like me.'
What a way for things to go, huh? There was many a time where he could've stopped far sooner, or even avoided this situation all together. Yet from the very moment he escaped from containment, it's all been just one big manic blur. Could you truly blame him, someone living his life as a scared, cornered animal? Constantly trying to run on gut instincts, even if they don't make sense to others?
"The hell's a guy gonna do when he's dealt a hand like that...?"
Time moved at a snail's pace for the two, the thoughts running through his head becoming slower and slower. He kept trying to pull himself together, but his body had other plans, the surface of his being constantly melting and re-forming. A pair of droopy, anxious eyes met the other's comforting ones, lingering for a while as he stared off.
He thought back to Italy, and the comfort she brought him even while in that loud, chaotic, otherwise lonely room. He thought about the way she'd bring him comfort when that hollow feeling in his chest lingered, a feeling brought about by being an incomplete set. He thought about the time they'd spent together, and the way it felt like a distant, lost dream.
He could never truly be mad at her, could he?
Not when she was always there for him in spirit. Not when everything she'd do for him was always for his own sake, even when he constantly set himself up for sabotage. Despite his protests as he was dragged off, he secretly knew she was right to do so.
They were two halves of the same coin, after all. Even if none of it was real.
"I know you're lookin' out for me... Sorry for draggin' you into this mess, Rosepetal."
They were cruel to bring him into this world alone. Longing for something that could never be, lost without his other half. He'd done everything to claw his way out, and when he finally found that missing piece, the one to make everything okay again...
She'd turned her back on him.
Noise 2 never had vivid memories of Italy ... she only knew of the dreams of his name in dazzling lights, red carpets, and fancy dinners. He'd shower her with gifts after a long day of maintaining her store, and they'd relish in their success together. All of these hopes and dreams pushed The Noise through the static of his miserable existence.
Mutated from his isolation, plucked from delusions dreams of grandeur, his diligent Rosepetal couldn't have been a better actress. Cook his favorite foods, set up shop, and cheer him on as they both pursued their dreams. He could work any amount of hours, vanish for months for the sake of the job, and she'd understand. She wouldn't be lonely, she wouldn't fret, because she knew they'd always be connected.
Even now, he hurt. Even now, he needed her. Noise 2 pulled him into her arms and buried her head into his shoulder. It was time for her to take her bows.
Merci beaucoup, mon amour. For giving me a chance to exist in this world. For giving me the chance to be with you. The line between her yellow dress and his yellow vest disappeared as she held onto him even tighter, her form sinking and mixing into the other. Though it was over fast, there couldn't have been a happier girl on the planet.
It's warm, unlike anything he's been shown since he was brought into this world. Her legs wobbled before the rest of her form toppled into him, savoring the final seconds of their embrace. This was how she could repay him. Fake Noise would be overwhelmed with a sense of devotion as she continued to slip away.
Her gratitude kissed his cheeks.
Her love rebuilt his foundation.
'Til the stage calls again.
Her smile persisted, even as the last of her began to fade, even as she grew terribly sleepy. It was as if he were tucking her into bed. Like he had gently pressed a kiss onto her forehead to wish her pleasant dreams. He'd see her in the morning, he'd promise, with the most delicious breakfast to motivate her for the day ahead.
They watched the night sky with a hollow sense of longing as they made their way toward the building in the distance. The night felt as though it'd gone on forever, and for them, it would. Both of them had accepted their fates long ago, long before this. For one of them, their fate was relinquished to passion. For the other, it was given out of love.
It was fairly easy to leave the battlefield, once the fog began to clear. Despite their struggle to stay together, the clones that littered the battlefield were little more than child's play to one of them, all the effort to dispatch them being in swinging the weapon itself. When the fog began to clear, they knew it'd be for the best to make their exit as well. After all... a sad, prolonged goodbye would be too much for one of their hearts to bear, and too much of a time-waster for the other, who was barely managing as it is.
The Peppino clone shambled through the slightly-damaged, unlocked doors of Peppino's Pizzeria, their body bubbling and struggling to hold its shape. Managing to find a pencil and blank receipt paper after a bit of a struggle, they sat down at one of the tables that'd been pushed to the side, the night sky through the windows illuminating them.
One of them spoke, but... not verbally. Instead, a voice echoed through their head, his otherwise rough demeanor declawed by his exhaustion.
What can either of them say to each other? They may have been temporarily safe, but the air felt as oppressive as Italy. (Did it?) The extremes they were driven to and the consequences that crawled up their spines. He began to shout, but she didn't flinch. It's not she he's mad at — at least, not entirely.
. . .
She gently clasped one of his gloves, carefully pressing its substance back into the mold of a hand. Noise 2 gave it a squeeze and moved on to the other deformed fist. She is gentle, careful, and quiet... But very clearly has a lot on her mind. She just needs to sort it out.
I know— I– I'm sorry, honeypie... She flattened his bowtie next. You were brilliant, too... Even if her first customers accused him of awful things. Even if they wanted to... A hiccup. The prop that wasn't really a prop, all of the shouting, and the vitriol against the pair just trying to survive. That girl in the trench coat, the employee she dubbed 'Noise 3.'.. was the only one that made her feel welcomed, as short-lived as that was.
Noise 2 smoothed out the edges of his mask, then cupped his cheeks.
But you were ... hurting. I was scared. I'm so, so sorry. I had to do something– I'm sorry. If I lost you —
...
Her hands rested on his shoulders as a sad, yet hopeful smile struggled to form.
What a way for things to go, huh? There was many a time where he could've stopped far sooner, or even avoided this situation all together. Yet from the very moment he escaped from containment, it's all been just one big manic blur. Could you truly blame him, someone living his life as a scared, cornered animal? Constantly trying to run on gut instincts, even if they don't make sense to others?
"The hell's a guy gonna do when he's dealt a hand like that...?"
Time moved at a snail's pace for the two, the thoughts running through his head becoming slower and slower. He kept trying to pull himself together, but his body had other plans, the surface of his being constantly melting and re-forming. A pair of droopy, anxious eyes met the other's comforting ones, lingering for a while as he stared off.
He thought back to Italy, and the comfort she brought him even while in that loud, chaotic, otherwise lonely room. He thought about the way she'd bring him comfort when that hollow feeling in his chest lingered, a feeling brought about by being an incomplete set. He thought about the time they'd spent together, and the way it felt like a distant, lost dream.
He could never truly be mad at her, could he?
Not when she was always there for him in spirit. Not when everything she'd do for him was always for his own sake, even when he constantly set himself up for sabotage. Despite his protests as he was dragged off, he secretly knew she was right to do so.
They were two halves of the same coin, after all. Even if none of it was real.
"I know you're lookin' out for me... Sorry for draggin' you into this mess, Rosepetal."
It didn't matter what she had to do. As long as she got The Noise anywhere safe, where he wouldn't be found...
! ! TERRAIN ! ! TERRAIN ! ! PULL UP ! ! PULL UP ! !
... They'd be able to pick themselves back up again.
They crash against the pavement, scraping to a halt. She yanked down on her ears in a feeble attempt to block out the cacophony in their brain. Terror. Betrayal. Guilt. Heartbreak. She recused The Noise in his time of need. She helped the other clone in the pizzeria reunite with Peppino. Hadn't she done the right thing?
Noise 2 sat up and scanned the horizon. Once she snatched her honeypie, her mind blanked — no true destination in mind. She sees... an ornate, black fence. A stunning mansion that'd surely make the drool in any other situation, fancy hedges, lush trees, and... her beloved lying with his face buried into the ground.
This was not how their second meeting was supposed to go. Bits of her polarized flesh returned to both her and him as she ran to meet him. She watched as he stirred, tears threatening to spill. Noise 2 wanted their reunion to be a happy one. One where she'd shower him in kisses as he scooped her up and spun her in his arms. They'd share a laugh, nuzzle noses and he'd ... propose, ready to begin their newly-forged future.
He locked eyes with her as he sat up, flesh still dripping.
And she is frozen.
As much as she wanted to wrap her arms around him... She understands the gravity of what she's done.
It took him a while to process where he was, as you could imagine. Especially when he'd slammed into the ground face-first. It took him a moment, but he eventually sat up, melting and bubbling eyes surveying the area. They were FAR from the studio, that's for sure. And this place... it seemed familiar.
He stared for a long, LONG time at Noise 2. He had so much to say, and it was fighting for dominance as it all made a mad rush from his brain to his mouth. After what felt like an eternity, his arms were thrown into the air in sheer rage, slamming the soft earth beneath him. He lurched upward, his body still struggling to keep shape.
"...WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!?" His high-pitched scream echoed through the area, birds scattering to the skies. "I NEARLY HAD 'EM! HE WAS RIGHT THERE, BEATEN TO ABSOLUTE $#*%, AND MINE FOR THE TAKING! ALL I HAD TO DO WAS ABSORB HIM, AND THE LIFE OF LUXURY WAS IN OUR #&^%ING CLAWS!!"
He thought back to that moment, the other Noise completely beaten to a pulp and barely clinging on. Ready to be absorbed. First him, then Pizzahead. Then that world of caviar and fast cars was all his.
"I HAD THEM TRAPPED!! TRAPPED LIKE THE UGLY LITTLE WORMS THEY ARE, AND YOU JUST GO AND—"
And save him?
He thought back to that moment. He thought back to the way that girl that shared his Rosepetal's face jumped in front of his attack. The fear and hope in her eyes as she shielded his mirror image from harm. The fear of the inevitable, and the hope that her sacrifice would be enough to protect the love of her life. It was all so picturesque, like a scene directly out of a film... and it made him feel so hollow.
"I nearly... I just... I just wanted..."
Fists clench, shake, and melt. He tries to think of what to say as he stares at her, to absolutely no avail.
