VERZEPHOBIA

verzephobia (n): the fear of graphical errors, distortion, and visual glitches, especially in video games. pfp by 离堂风 on neka

[verzephobia-red]

ABOUT

An ask blog dedicated to RED from the pokepasta Verzephobia.

Run by @lost-and-found-silver, the creator of the story. 99% of posts will be text as I can't draw. Most content will consist of dialogue, with the occasional narrative post.

Asks that do not fit the mood of the story will be ignored. Otherwise, feel free to send questions and/or interact.

General Guidelines:

RED exists as a digital entity in an unplayable video game. The menu cannot be accessed; thus, the state of the game cannot change unless RED wants it to.

Any asks are transmitted into the game and he can read it. Images and videos cannot be viewed and will be ignored.

It is impossible to physically interact with RED or the game. Asks that involve the above will be ignored.

Interactions with other characters/muses will be noncanon, but greatly welcome. RED is capable of manifesting in other games/worlds if they are unable to leave.

Rules may become updated in the future.

This blog will contain descriptions of:

Glitches

Fictional animal death

Unhealthy coping mechanisms

Useful Links:

INTRO POSTS

THE ORIGINAL PASTA

PREVIOUS POSTS (in chronological order)

CHARACTER REFS (RED)

Please check those out before sending an ask to avoid confusion and/or unhelpful questions.

[verzephobia-red]

[ooc update]

just a fyi, i may redo this blog in the future- just because i'm not super satisfied with how the story is atm.

stay tuned for more updates (i swear i haven't forgotten about RED T_T)

[verzephobia-red]

Has this happened already to the world? Since you said that it could be reenacted if a Player encountered That again...

Are the master balls related or am I looking too hard into stuff?

RED: “It’s possible.”

“…but… this is a new cycle. I don’t keep any memories I made before…or, at least, not all of them.”

“I… that would…”

“………”

They fall silent mid-sentence, pixels flickering briefly.

“…let’s move on.”

[verzephobia-red]

how do you talk…without a face…??

RED: “The same way I see without eyes.”

“…this feels like a rather redundant question.”

[verzephobia-red]

Mistake...?

Red, c'mon, "should've known better", about what? To think and reflect about all before doing something? We all have those moments of impulsivity, consequences come, results are variable in nature, worse or better; but I have to say I care about you, and won't let you deal with such stuff by chosing to let you place all the 'fault' unto yourself.

So, then, what is it you say you won't make again? It sounds important regarding all this.

And....what is the ending you refer to?

RED: “……”

“…listen. I know you mean well, but you have to understand.”

“I was not created to be aware or to feel things.”

“…and thinking and feeling the way I did is blinding myself to the truth.”

“The PC was… arranged… like that because that thing—“ his “face” contorts with the effort of getting the words out “—knows everything.”

“It knows I would never have the will to open it without y—the PLAYERs. It knows the mere sight of it would get my hopes up. All that effort, just to try and make me give up and… stop existing.”

“…no. I don’t blame myself for being emotional. I blame myself for continuing to be a part of this… game.”

“……”

“Everything in this world is predetermined. The story has already been written out by something much, much bigger than the both of us.”

He looks back down at the ground, at the items still scattered there, with some amount of bitterness.

“There is only one way out. And it always begins with Venusaur dying.”

[verzephobia-red]

@the-missingno-virus - Xaviric watches Red for a moment, before resting his hands in his pockets. He was quiet for a long while, and once he finally did speak, it was a steady, but gentle tone, "..Would you like help with the burial?" Xaviric paused, before adding "To honor them."

RED: “……”

“…another person?”

“It’s not… often that I get visitors.”

“………”

As he stands and turns to face the newcomer, his mask of apathy is fully back in place.

“I appreciate the offer. But there’s no need.”

He inclines his head towards the headless pile of bones on the ground. Already, it appears to be partially caved-in, corrupted pixels swarming it like flies. As they watch, the remains sink deeper into the ground as if surrounded by quicksand.

“The corruption takes care of its own.”

He looks away, gaze landing on the Venusaur skull.

It would be so easy to let it slip out of his arms. It feels lighter than before, as if the very air is corroding it, turning it hollow. It would sink so quietly into the ground. Disappear so quickly.

But…

The words seem to come to him easier than before.

“All I can do is hold on to the things that I can. And... that’s my best way of ‘honoring’ them.”

“I can’t expect anything here to stay unchanging. Only the past is concrete.”

“…I believe you understand that particularly well.”

@the-missingno-virus

[verzephobia-red]

... I want to think this would've been different *if*... But it doesn't matter now.

Sorry, feels like I deceived you in a way, since this must hurt worse after things seemed to "improve", I guess.

RED: “………”

His silence drags on for longer and longer, broken finally by a single, jagged intake of breath.

For a moment, his image… flickers, strobing from red to black. His sprite seemed to be altered somehow beneath the colors, split open by dark pixels, but the glitches retract before you can take a closer look.

He falls back into what seemed to be a familiar routine for him. Breathe in, breathe out. Holding in the tears. Pulling himself back together.

Eⷫvͦeͭrͪyͥtⷫᵍhiⷲnͥᶫgᶫ iⷡsͤ bⷫaͦcͬkͫ ͣᶫtoͤ ͮnͤoͬrmͣᵍaͣlͥ.ⷫ

It takes him a while to remember that he was told something. That he was supposed to respond. That he had a p̨ᵾ𝗿p̷̵σꮥ𝚎̴.

“………”

“…no… it’s not your fault.”

He drags one hand reflexively across his “face”, as if to wipe away tears. 

“I… should have known better.”

“It was a mistake. I won’t be making it again.”

“…there was no way the ending could have been changed.”

[lost-and-found-silver]

do i keep waiting for questions about this post or continue with the blog?

wait

continue

Voting ended onJan 21, 2025

[verzephobia-red]

reblogging this to hopefully get more traction.

long update/ramble beneath the cut

if you're wondering why this blog has been inactive since forever... there's significant stuff in this specific post, and so far there hasn't been a question that i can stitch together into the quote unquote structured storyline that i've been trying to make. i've been really indecisive about how to handle it. irl stuff has also been a drag.

i do plan on posting updates on this blog more; i recognize that there are people that don't follow my main and the system that i've been trying to use just isn't working.

and for the people whose asks have been sitting in my inbox: i don't have much to say other than i am sorry and i promise they will be answered, no matter how long it's been. i do not throw away asks for the sake of "story structure" despite my fixation on it.

if you're still reading this: thank you, and i hope to continue telling this story in the future.

[hylidoll]

You are RED. You have been living in white space as long as you- wait a minute

@lost-and-found-silver

[verzephobia-red]

... I want to think this would've been different *if*... But it doesn't matter now.

Sorry, feels like I deceived you in a way, since this must hurt worse after things seemed to "improve", I guess.

RED: “………”

His silence drags on for longer and longer, broken finally by a single, jagged intake of breath.

For a moment, his image… flickers, strobing from red to black. His sprite seemed to be altered somehow beneath the colors, split open by dark pixels, but the glitches retract before you can take a closer look.

He falls back into what seemed to be a familiar routine for him. Breathe in, breathe out. Holding in the tears. Pulling himself back together.

Eⷫvͦeͭrͪyͥtⷫᵍhiⷲnͥᶫgᶫ iⷡsͤ bⷫaͦcͬkͫ ͣᶫtoͤ ͮnͤoͬrmͣᵍaͣlͥ.ⷫ

It takes him a while to remember that he was told something. That he was supposed to respond. That he had a p̨ᵾ𝗿p̷̵σꮥ𝚎̴.

“………”

“…no… it’s not your fault.”

He drags one hand reflexively across his “face”, as if to wipe away tears. 

“I… should have known better.”

“It was a mistake. I won’t be making it again.”

“…there was no way the ending could have been changed.”

[hylidoll]

They are all friends when not being tortured by the plot

@lost-and-found-silver

@creatively-cosmic

[banzaiblaster]

Some more doodles for pokepasta blogs! @verzephobia-red and @nuzlight-mia respectively :]

[verzephobia-red]

...I'm so sorry, Red.

It might be a bit of a useless question, but... God- are you okay?

RED: “………”

He doesn’t look back to acknowlege the words. But you hear something. Low and broken, barely intelligible beneath layers of static.

A sob.

With shaking hands, he gathers Venusaur’s skull into his arms, cradling it as though it was a child instead of something long-dead.

[verzephobia-red]

02

Light from a nonexistent sun filters down over the warped landscape. The world itself remains as dark and broken as ever—but something feels different. The status quo has shifted; the long-maintainted balance has been irrevocably tipped.

The Poké Ball in the Trainer’s grip is made of crisp red and white, out of place amidst the turbulence. It’s as perfect and unblemished as it was the day RED recieved it from the lab. The same as it had been while battling. Travelling. Seeking glory. Going on an adventure together, invincible with the knowledge that no tragedy could possibly happen. Not to them, the protagonist—the eternal hero of the story.

But everything else is gone now. Only RED and the Poké Ball remain, the way it had been at the start of the game.

Their hold on the device tightens to the point of pain, the pixels that make up their hand deforming and breaking apart from the pressure.

“…can’t hold off of this forever, can I…?”

The Poké Ball opens, separating neatly to release its customary beam of reddish light. They can’t stop themself from shaking—in anticipation, fear, or something else entirely—as a shape gradually coalesces into existence in front of them. 

“……”

Four legs. Triangular ears. Something branched and plantlike protruding from its back. It looks whole. It looks like their old partner, their first friend, the way it remains in their memory before… everything else. It’s still Venusaur. It has to be…

… until the light inevitably fades away.

“………”

Venusaur’s ball drops from RED’s hand, sinking through the corrupted ground. Grief and hope, every shred of feeling they’ve been burying inside for so long, rush out of them all at once in a single, choked breath.

Nothing remains of what it used to be except for bits and pieces. A misshapen, many-eyed skull. A tangle of what could’ve been wings or scythes in place of its tree. The broken parts of countless skeletons, joined together into a hollow mockery of life. Scraps of green-gray still cling to it, slowly disintegrating into dust.

RED stumbles forward blindly, falling to their knees before the remains of their companion, reaching out as if seeking some kind of solace…

The corpse falls apart with the slightest touch, collapsing into a heap of mangled bones.

[verzephobia-red]

(I think this will make me feel mixed things- such is hope. I wish them to be alright...)

RED: “………”

“……”

“…y-yeah.”

“Thank you.”

They take a deep breath, as if steadying themself for something. Their hand closes over the Poké Ball in a convulsive movement.

“…there’s nowhere to go from here but up, right?”

[verzephobia-red]

Oh whoa... This opens up a lot. Can we take a look at the Pokemon you got?

RED: “………”

He begins typing a series of commands into the PC again, his “face” expressionless.

[Accessed BOX 1.]

When the screen fades back to white, it shows something completely different from what you were expecting. No miscellaneous weak creatures. No discarded teammates. There is nothing except for the icon of a single Pokémon, laid neatly, intentionally in the center of the Box.

A Venusaur.

Something looks… off with its sprite, even in miniaturized form. It appears almost shriveled, some of its pixels missing, eyes reduced to hollow black dots. The cursor flickers ominously when hovering over it, as if it, too, is as wrong as the rest of the world.

RED seems to not regard any of this, pixels shuddering as he leans closer to the screen. He reaches out towards the icon, the broken image of his former friend. Stray particles fall down to shatter on the computer’s keyboard, like corrupted tears.

[Withdraw this 尸Ҝ₥N꙲?]

> Ɏ𝗘̘̚Ꮥ

With a flash of light, a Poké Ball appears before him.

[verzephobia-red]

I'm... gonna assume that that wasn't supposed to happen, was it?

Um... This is your PC, right? As in, it's logged into your... account? I don't know how to describe it. Your boxes? Yeah, your boxes, we'll go with that. Your boxes.

Did you have any Pokémon or Items stored inside that you remember? Anything from before MissingNo? I'm not gonna tell you to look, and I definitely can't/won't force you to check, but do you think anything is still in there?

RED: “No… nothing’s ever spontaneously fixed itself before like that.”

“I don’t know anything for sure, but… I think it had something to do with your… pɍeꮥeηc𝚎̴.”

“………”

“…To answer your question… this isn’t ‘my’ PC, but it should be logged in using my credentials.”

“There shouldn’t be any Pokémon in there other than unevolved ones caught early on. And as far as I recall, there were no items other than some other key items the PLAYER thought were useless.”

“…But I guess we should still check.”

[verzephobia-red]

RED: “…It’s never worked for as long as I was here… but I guess I can try again just to humor you.”

He boots up the PC, his corrupted hand trailing particles in its wake as it moves across the blocky keyboard—the intact one seems ineffective when interacting with those altered objects—and the screen flickers to life.

At first, there is only static. The garbled remains of a menu fade in and out of focus. RED looks back wearily, mashing random keys with the air of someone who has done the same thing over and over again.

“See? It’s not going to…”

Suddenly, the computer flashes white, then starts to emit a low, bitcrushed hum.

“…wait…”

The scattered pixels on the screen begin to slowly knit themselves back together.

[ITEM] [PKMN] [CANCEL]

“……?”

RED seems as confused as you are, question mark blinking on their “face”.

“...well… that’s something new.”