“Introduction: Welch” (Cursor DJ AU Fanfiction)
Official: Cursor DJ and Cursor Noogai (Alan Becker) Design!
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Summary: Noogai, the most feared Cursor. But who is the one that stood beside him?
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A long time ago, there was a small cursor named Welch. He was an odd one, a misfit among his kind. Smaller than the others, weaker too, Welch struggled to find his place. Other cursors dismissed him without a second thought, offering neither guidance nor companionship. To them, Welch was insignificant, unworthy of their time.
He tried to prove himself, to show them he was just like the rest. Yes, he was smaller and weaker, but surely that didn’t matter. Yet, no matter how hard he tried, no one accepted him. The rejection stung, and it left Welch questioning his own worth.
Desperate to belong, he made a bold decision—he disguised himself as a stick figure. Perhaps, he thought, they would accept him if he looked like them. But this new form came with its own challenges. As a cursor, Welch had at least some strength—he could take a few hits, withstand a little more.
But as a stick figure? He was even weaker. His body, fragile and awkward, could barely hold itself upright. Despite his best efforts to perfect his disguise, weakness clung to him like a shadow.
What use am I if I’m this weak? Welch cried to himself. He had been alone for centuries, trying in vain to fit in. No one cared for him. No one saw him.
As he sat on the ground, shoulders slumped and heart heavy, a voice interrupted his thoughts.
“What ails you, little one?” The voice was calm, lazy, almost curious. Welch, startled, turned to see who had spoken.
He wasn’t used to anyone addressing him—let alone with kindness. For years, all he’d known were dismissive glances and disgusted looks. His eyes widened as he took in the figure before him.
It had been so long since Welch had spoken to anyone that his voice felt foreign to him. He opened his mouth to respond, but only gibberish escaped. His face darkened with embarrassment.
How long had it been since he’d used his voice? He realized with a sinking heart that he’d spent so much time as a stick figure that even his basic abilities were slipping away.
The figure before him was tall, draped in loose, flowing clothes that fell past his knees. He looked strange, even for a stick figure. Large, wing-like appendages jutted from the sides of his head, twitching slightly. Welch couldn’t help but stare.
He had never seen anything like this before. Was this some creative liberty taken by this stick’s creator? Welch couldn’t say—he does not have the ability as the other cursors to create his own stick figures.
The figure’s feet were bare, unprotected by sandals or shoes. Welch felt a pang of familiarity. He too had never understood the appeal of such things. His own clothes were simple—a white oversized long-sleeve shirt and pants that trailed so long he often tripped over them.
He looked down at himself. He’d neglected his appearance for so long that his hair now dragged behind him, tangled and unkempt.
“You must be a cursor,” the figure said, his voice calm and sure. Welch frowned. How did this stranger know?
The man tilted his head, smiling faintly. “I am one, too. Though it’s quite unusual for a cursor to willingly disguise himself into a stick figure.” His eyes roamed over Welch’s face, and the wing-like appendages on his head twitched again.
Welch’s long, elf-like ears twitched in response. He had modeled them after the stick figures he’d seen, but they were abnormally long, drawing strange looks wherever he went. Even with something simple, such as designing his stick figure disguise, he was also useless at it.
Welch sighed internally. The soles of his feet ached. He longed to return to his true form and soar freely through the air, but he knew what awaited him if he did. Rejection. Isolation.
[I’m only trying to find my place in this world,] Welch said, his voice echoing in the stranger’s mind. [Have you come here to laugh at me too?]
The man smirked, placing a hand under his chin as he tilted his head thoughtfully. “I see,” he murmured. “No need to feel so scared. I am just like you. You can call me Noogai.” He bowed slightly, his smile calm and unreadable.
Welch’s breath caught. Noogai. The name sent a ripple of awe—and fear—through him. This was Noogai, the strongest cursor alive. Welch took a cautious step back.
He had heard the stories—tales of Noogai’s strange, taboo experiments, his fearsome power, and the unease he inspired in others. Should Welch fear him too?
“You know,” Noogai drawled, his sharp gaze locked on Welch, “in basic stick figure courtesy, when someone gives their name, it’s polite to share yours in return.”
Welch flinched, startled by the reminder. His hands clenched tightly together in nervous energy. [I am Welch. It is a pleasure to meet you, Master Noogai,] he replied, bowing deeply.
Noogai’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. His smile widened, curling with amusement. “Ah, yes. I’ve heard of you. Many cursors speak of a... failed cursor. One who cannot do anything but exist.”
Welch stiffened, the words cutting deep. The rumors were true. Cursors lived for eons, each with a purpose. To exist without one was a failure—a sign that rebirth, a complete reset, was imminent.
Welch feared that fate more than anything. He didn’t want to lose his identity. He’d lived for 300 years—still a child compared to the millennia-old cursors—but he wasn’t ready to start over.
[It’s true,] Welch admitted, his voice steady despite the ache in his chest. [Have you come to kill me then?]
Noogai laughed, the sound sharp and unreadable. “Kill you?” he repeated, his blank, calculating eyes studying Welch. “No, no. It’s not your time yet. Recently, I’ve taken an interest in teaching. I’ve lived far too long and gathered far too much knowledge to let it sit unused. I think it’s time I shared it—with cursors and stick figures alike.”
Welch frowned. What was Noogai getting at?
The older cursor’s smirk deepened. “I believe I’ve found my first student.”.
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Brief Story Background about Welch in the Cursor AU:
Welch met Noogai when he was just a child, and Noogai took him on as his first student. He taught Welch how to fight and even granted him unique abilities, as Welch had no special talents prior to his birth.
Before the start of the 400-year war, Welch did not care about it, and he believed that Noogai felt the same way. However, when Noogai announced that he would be joining the war, Welch became angry and pleaded with him not to participate. This disagreement escalated into a massive fight that nearly destroyed an island. In his rage, Welch chose to hide in a secluded place where no one could reach him and fell asleep for hundreds of years.
He was unaware that Noogai had undergone a rebirth and was now known as Alan.
About Welch Information:
Welch has the ability to communicate telepathically, which means he never speaks out loud when he takes on his stick figure form, he rarely speaks and some stick figures assumed he was deaf. Additionally, he can summon weapons and transform any surface he touches into what he wants. Be it a chair, a gun, a cup.
Most cursors do not typically become stick figures because doing so results in a significant reduction of their powers from their original bodies. However, Welch often chooses to remain in his stick figure form to assist Noogai in his library.
Welch has grown so accustomed to having his powers diminished as a stick figure that when he transforms back into a cursor, he completely forgets that his abilities and strength quadruple in that form.
In his relationship with Noogai, Welch serves both as a student and a caretaker. After spending several years with Noogai as his mentor, Welch realized that Noogai is incredibly lazy. If not awakened, Noogai can sleep for years before he finally decides to move.
Before the war, after many years as Noogai’s student, Welch had established himself as the second strongest Cursor next to Noogai. However, when the war broke out, it was as if he had been forgotten. Some speculate that Noogai himself erased Welch’s identity to protect him from harm.
But who truly knows? Welch never discovered what happened; instead, he chose to isolate himself in his anger over his mentor’s decisions.
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