Hey! The context DID show itself eventually! I bet we’re all real glad it did. Anyway, come and read a very weird short fic about Nero playing arcade games for little kids. Even if you hate it, it’d make my day... which was kinda cruddy so I’m not setting the bar too high here.
I’m generally trying to get more comfortable with sharing fics; I don’t know where this stuff is coming from or if people even enjoy this kind of thing. But it exists now! I hope you enjoy it anyway, or at least spare my feelings if you didn’t, e.g;
The atmosphere in there was cacophonous. However, it was an organized cacophony, a fully composed lullaby, metered with thousands of tiny twinkling plasma lamps, underscored with some hideous day-glo carpeting that emitted a faintly carcinogenic aura. But there was no music, only noise, and all noise generated within the confines of this building defied physical law. Sounds did not reverberate throughout the cavernous halls of the Manderville Gold Saucer, so much as they accumulated in its hollows and crannies, and congealed into a rhythmless mush. Which was also probably carcinogenic.
Nero always figured his life would come to that anyway. Cut short by some bizarre or ancient, or best of all totally unidentifiable disease. Barring that, some easily avoidable industrial accident, as Garlond kept insisting. Barring that, any other way, so long as it was hilariously ironic. He slurped some more triple-potency Ishgard-style black coffee (which was not recommended for the elderly, children or anyone else with a functioning heart, for that matter) from the cup he gripped fast; the man had long since learned you only needed one hand to play Mog House. Barring that, a nose. Barring that, a pulse. ...
Check out the rest on Google Docs! Because it’s almost 1500 words long and I don’t wanna clog up your dashboard with all this tchatchke. 🌟
