TW: body horror, dismemberment, nonconsensual body modification, ask to tag
@itisindigos @dracl-dragon @chaoticcyprus
(Uhhh any other moots into body horror hehe-)
Anywho. Steve labs!rainbow pickaxe pov chapter :)
Nothing bad happens. Totally. (Lies)
I remember my first moments of existence, before the hell surrounding me kicked in. It was bright. Warm. Comforting light. I appeared in a lab overlooking a valley surrounded by forested hills.
I remember seeing that beautiful landscape just beyond that huge window. I remember my first thought was, "what a lovely world," as the sunlight streamed in on my face.
...
Back when I had a face.
I wish I ran when I realized something was wrong. I wish I didn't let them push me in, let myself stay put, out of pure confusion. But I can't change what happened..what they did to me.
...
I remember the first thing he said to me. "Rainbow Steve, my brother! How are you feeling?" I remember being...confused, he looked nothing like a Steve, much less my brother. "Just kidding, don't say anything! Nod up and down if you are willing to help me out with an experiment, are you down?" With that stupid, stupid smile on his face.
Of course I shook my head "no," I didn't even know his name yet! Hell, he wasn't the one to tell me his name in the first place! I was given nothing to...to prepare.
And then those cursed words. "Yeah, that's it! Alright everybody, he's- he's willing!" In what world is side-to-side a "yes!?"
...
I hate playing games.
How would..he feel, being greeted to a world of unknowns like that? He- the BOTH of them really- they didn't- they DON'T care. I was a means to an end for them. I'm lucky I was found by people that care, that- that try.
But, anyways.
He looked me in the eyes. "I'd really like to tell you what's happening.." honestly, he might not have, his eyes were covered, "..but umm beforeee thatt..do you mind stepping into this machine? :)" He harshly grabbed my arm, half-dragging me towards that godforsaken machine.
I don't know why I stood there when they casually said there was a 1% chance of survival. I could've ran. I..I could've survived. But the way that...damned machine stared at me, like it knew we were being watched...its artifical eyeballs burned a hole through my soul.
...
I wouldn't have, would I? I wouldn't have survived even if I tried escaping beforehand. They would've done it anyways. ...maybe with another me. Maybe if..not me, someone else. ...maybe it's better it only happened once (...on purpose...).
It..doesn't matter. (They wouldn't have escaped like I did, then..they would've caught them...)
...
He asked me how I was feeling, again without words. I shook my head, spun around, tried to communicate that NO, I DON'T LIKE THIS. ..but of course, nothing worked. I was just as powerless before it as I was after. They would've tied me down if they had to. ...but they didn't. I didn't protest. I wish I screamed at them. I wish I didn't listen. It's too late now.
They shut the door on me, after he walked away and I was left under that... mechanized thing's watch. I swear, I'd rip that thing's redstone heart out if I saw it again (that version, anyways..).
And then everything went numb.
And bright.
But it wasn't comforting. This..light felt like blistering desert heat, hellfire, it was draining and intense and burned. And then it went dark. I felt..wood beaneath me, in places where my body shouldn't touch the ground. Like..I was split. And I heard him again.
"..and no, you are not seeing wrong-." For a split second, I saw him, above me, peering in at my severed head. The lab lights were far too bright. And then darkness. "-I am indeed separating Rainbow Steve out-" he walked away, until I could barely hear him again. I strained to listen, as my head swam with dizzy nausea and an unending burning sensation behind my eyes.
I vaguely heard, "-did not feel anything," and immediately wanted to bite him (if only I could move). I was in a paralysis, a burning, overwhelming feeling of dread and vague-not-quite-pain.
'Is this what a "fate worse than death" is like?' Was all that I could think.
And then his voice cut in again. "Now let's go ahead and pick up everything," and, once again, blinded by the lab's obnoxious lights. This time he grabbed me, by the face. His whole palm covered it, making it hard to breathe, to see. It also smelled like metal, sterilized chemicals, and, weirdly, cheese. If my throat had still been connected to my head, I'd have vomited. The smell, the tight grip forcing my eyes slightly open, the harsh light, the sudden movement, it was all too much.
He suddenly changed the way he held me, by my hair. And stared at me. It didn't matter that I couldn't see them, I could feel his gaze. He glanced down and furrowed his brows, annoyed by the tears that dripped onto his foot. "This was my personal design," that wretched robot interjected. With a flick of his wrist, I was now in a small, gray cube. It wasn't dark like the chest, light filtered through a tiny bit. It felt like his glove, smooth and rubbery to a fault. I could hear much better.
"What, this machine? Wait, are you saying we didn't-?" I started losing consciousness again, and my focus on the conversation. I shut my eyes, trying to ignore the fact that I could feel slight movement, as if I were in his pocket. It was getting hard to breathe again, but I think I was hyperventilating at that point. The smell was still there, too.
After a second, I felt his hands grab my body, limp and paralyzed. I felt his finger rub where my heart was, making it beat faster. He slightly poked at my stomach, making me flinch. I heard a laugh. And then it went into, I guess, another gray box. I felt my dismembered torso slump against a corner. And then my arms. I felt him grab one, give it a high-five, and then shake the other around a bit. They went into their own boxes, still paralyzed. And then my legs, he shook them around some more, and smacked a wall with one. The blunt pain jolted me out of my dissociation.
I heard him continue to speak, grabbing the pieces of my upper body. Each arm and my torso were strapped into something. He said something about resetting, and then a loud mechanical thunder shook the ground. My upper body was once again in a chest, re-combined into one piece. I could feel a sting radiating from my shoulders.
I felt him strap in my legs. I braced for the thundering. It shook the ground, made my ears ring. I heard him shout about being too close, as my head swam with dizziness and nausea again. My legs were fused back together with my hips, part of my spine split from my upper half. He took them out of the chest. I heard him groan about forgetting to get a pickaxe, and then felt more jostling as he started walking.
...
The next few hours were spent listening to him complain about organization, still in his pocket. I probably passed out at some point, still paralyzed. The smell was starting to get in my head, and the empty, slick gray-white of everything hurt my eyes. By the time he was back in the lab, I was somewhat conscious again.
He strapped my head in. I blinked hard in the harsh lights, the nausea and dizziness ceasing quickly. I stared down at the astronaut-like man who had done this to me, and to the robot still staring me down. He strapped my upper body in. And then looked up at my head. "I just realized the head doesn't go on top, it goes on the side," he made eye contact as he pulled my head down with two hands, still rough and uncaring. I tried to make a face, but I still couldn't move anything but my eyes.
He kept talking and talking and talking. I stared out the window, yearning for the grass and the breeze and the flowers..
The breeze.
That's an open door..?
Once again, I was interrupted by that cursed robot. "This is disgusting," my eyes darted towards it, and then to him. "Listen, I. Am. Making. A Rainbow. Steve. Pickaxe," he pointed passive-aggressively with every word," okay? We agreed on this, alright," he walked closer to the robot, "I asked you what else-" "I love it." "Oh, okay, wait, so you're on board?" I glared at them both, desperately trying to convince them to stop.
...
He looked me in the eye when he pulled that lever that changed me forever.
...
If you've ever lost a limb and had it reattached, you might've understood the dismemberment a little.
This.
This was nothing like that.
Have you ever heard your own flesh and bones fuse with a pickaxe?
...
I have.
An excruciating, stinging pain, on par with dismemberment, that started in my neck and ran across the rest of my body. I felt my body contort and squish and reshape, in the midst of that same burning light. It seemed to almost mock me.
My body melted and stretched with loud, fleshy squelches and crunches. I felt my very skull reshape, hair shed, organs and bones and muscles crushed and liquefied and hardened.
...
Only a few fingers were left intact.
...
And I was very, VERY much awake.
...
To say I was disoriented would be an understatement.
The fact that I was conscious at all was both a miracle and a curse.
My muscles were unparalyzed, finally. But it seemed there wasn't much to move in the first place.
I could just barely flex my fingers.
The pitch darkness of the chest was somewhat comforting, but of course it never lasts.
He grabbed my handle, covering my mouth. That same damned smell. I blinked away tears (and blood) as he glanced at me with a distinct look of amusement. I didn't have it in me to glare anymore, I could barely breathe. I could hear my blood rushing in my head, my heart beating too fast, my rushed, hot breath blowing back at me.
He looked up, talking to...no one, it seemed. Maybe an invisible camera. I tried to catch my breath, catch my...mind, really.
He suddenly smashed my fingers directly into the floor. Hot blood dripped down. He was still talking casually, as my fractured fingers twitched.
And then, I remembered... I could move.
As he spoke, I started wiggling, bit by bit. Eventually he finally noticed, as I started shaking his arms, as he held tighter onto my handle.
And then, at last, freedom.
He let me fall to the ground with a fleshy THUNK against cold metal.
I finally caught my breath, grateful to at least be out of his hands. Slowly, I flexed my fingers, blinked hard a few times, and dug my fingers into the floor. I started crawling, with aching joints and burning flesh, my eye facing the floor. Eventually, I managed to flip myself around, so I could see where I was going.
I could hear them both talking. "-I know you're a little worried right now because you're a pickaxe now-"
I ignored him, focusing on just moving around, despite my body's protests.
And then I heard him ask if they could revert this.
I stopped, staring up at them.
"No."
"What do you mean no?!"
My eye darted between the two of them.
"This is indefinite."
I looked towards the window, and then to the crafter thing.
"You told me that we could reverse it!"
..IS that an open door?
"This is my design."
"You- you- you-"
I suddenly looked back at him. Did..he care?
...
"That's pretty funny, man, I'm not gonna lie."
I backed away a little.
"Hang on, we have to change this-"
I didn't hesitate.
I started moving around randomly (but away from them both), keeping them in sight.
He crouched down towards me, hands open.
"Okay, okay, Rainbow Steve Pickaxe, it's time to-"
I made a run for it, my handle smacking against the floor. I leapt onto the table, scurrying away as he yelled. I turned towards the first machine, bolting past it. The robot merely looked on. I ran past it and down the stairs. I only stopped at the bottom when I realized they stopped chasing me.
I looked up as I heard the robot say something that still chills me to the core. "I did it for the sole purpose of comedy." I looked up towards them, and started running again, staying near the cliffs and hills to my left, hoping to be obscured from their sight.