ellipsanet | Video, UN: Puppetking

Almost a century later. [ That's a lot to absorb, but he takes it well, mulling over it while he watches Russell play. Different enemy movement patterns, that extra life ship trick. It's interesting, all this technological acumen bent toward something so innocent and frivolous.

Less innocent and frivolous is that comment about thrift stores. Maxwell's memories of dodging debt and making ends not-quite-meet are sharp. ] You look plenty dapper, anyway. Take it from someone who cares about that kind of thing, style's an art form, no amount of money will buy it.

[Russell breathes out a little sound almost like a chuckle, his lips turning up at the corners in the faintest hint of a smile.]

Thanks.

[He’s quiet for a bit, focusing on the game. Then:]

…You said when you “last checked in with your home” - did you spend a lot of time away from your world?

[ He's not trying to do this well. It just seems to be working out, which is as nice as it is confounding. He leans back against the side of a Dance Dance Revolution-esque bar, the better to watch and lounge comfortably.

The question takes him by surprise, and he lets a few quiet breaths pass. How should he answer it? Some close cousin to the truth, but not an outright burden. ]

I won an all expenses paid trip to a fairyland dimension, contest I didn't even know I entered. As far as I know, nobody who gets in ever 'goes home' again, but you can wander astrally, even under lock and key. I could bring other people in to me. [ Torture them. Kill them. Anything to fend off the boredom, distract from the misery. Become as bad as what kept him there. ]

You mind if I ask how you ended up in Eyetopia?

Edited 2025-02-03 23:11 (UTC)

Definitely sounds like a video game. [Russell reaffirms, very matter of factly.

When prompted to elaborate on where he’s been before this, his eyebrows raise slightly, like he hadn’t expected return fire. He seems to be focusing on the question instead of the game, and nearly loses a life because of it. His brows then furrow for an instant - whether at the game, at himself, or at the question is anyone’s guess - before leveling back out to true neutral.]

… It was… an experiment.

There were some similarities, anyway. [ Maxwell looks at the little alien sprites on the screen. He really badly wants a smoke, but there's a no smoking sign just about eye level and three feet away, and also he has only just arrived and has no cigars yet. Still, it preys on him at the slightest gleam of stress.

Which, to be fair, an entirely new dimension is pretty stressful for anyone, but he knows it isn't that. Not really. ]

Is that all I get? This is a dismal storytelling exchange rate. ... Here's an idea. You show me a two player game you like in this place, I'll play you. If I win, you tell me more about this experiment. If I lose ... I'll buy you thirty tokens.

… …Okay.

[Russell would’ve probably given up more information willingly if asked without the need for a challenge, but that sounded almost fun. This man was… interesting, to say the least. Not something he could say about a lot of adults.

He lets the little ship meet its end and the cabinet plays a sad little tune to mark the grim occasion. He doesn’t get a high score for such a relatively short playthrough but it was a respectable showing all the same.]

Let’s go.

[And so he leads the way over to the two player cabinets, stopping at a (slightly) more modern one: it’s a 16-bit fighting game. He’d only played it once or twice, but he doesn’t tell Maxwell that. It’ll be a fair match that way.

He puts in two tokens, one in either side, before stepping to the left and pressing the start button.

CHOOSE YOUR FIGHTER ]

[ Maxwell sees no reason to do anything unless it's fun, or enhances his ability to do things better. This runs into its own problems, but he's never boring.

To himself, softly, but loud enough to potentially be overheard; ] What sport shall we devise here in this garden, to drive away the heavy thought of care...

[ He cocks his head curiously at the cabinet selected, then grins. It is violence based, and he takes like 3 seconds before he selects the mysterious masked character with the flair for fashion. Of course.

After a pretty short time playing, and losing the first match, he realizes this is a matter of capitalizing on opportunities, on risk/reward gambits, and on blocking incoming attacks instead of tanking them, at least with the nimble little noble he's chosen to play. He wins the second match largely through luck, but it's not enough to win him the game overall. He's a good sport, tho, smiling wide enough to show his exaggeratedly sharp canines. ]

You are good, Russell. Looks like your next few weekends of games are on me.

[DONT THINK RUSSELL MISSED THAT SHAKESPEARE REFERENCE FAM. He’s a pretty well-read little dude so even if he doesn’t necessarily immediately peg the exact play, he can at least tell it’s a quote from something. He sees you.

Anyway!! After the match, he steps back from the cabinet and turns to Maxwell; he’s wearing more than just a hint of a smile this time, still small but undeniably there. These sorts of clear expressions are pretty rare from Russell so count yourself lucky, Max.]

You did well, too.

[A silence falls. He had no reason to tell Maxwell anything. He’d won, after all. However, he felt a sort of… resonance? with the older man. It was a bit like how he’d felt comfortable confiding in Frieda when they had first met. He had no way of knowing yet how deep their similarities truly ran but he knew that they had both ended up in strange and troublesome fantastical worlds - homes away from home. Maybe this was someone who would understand.

… … At the very least, he should probably let Maxwell know what kind of person he was sooner rather than later so that he didn’t get the wrong idea about him.

He turns back and stares quietly at the screen as it plays through a demo match.]

… In exchange for my life, I was made to take an experimental drug that induced a deep sleep. It was a rehabilitation program that played out through my dreams.

[That was a start.]

Edited 2025-02-04 22:31 (UTC)

[ This reserved kid is having a good time, it's obvious! And really, this is also like Wendy. Minuscule reactions mean a lot, where she's concerned, too. ] Thanks.

[ But then Russell actually does him a solid and continues, giving out information he didn't have to. Maxwell blinks, listening intently. ] Didn't follow any white rabbits, I hope?

[ He turns, heading one of the machines for money exchange, recognizing it as a thing you put money into to get a cupful of tokens. In exchange for my life? The only 'normal' thing in his life these days is how weird everything is. Maxwell chuckles involuntarily at 100-odd years of inflation. Christ. A nickel gets you nothing anymore. But he's used to spending reckless in boom-bust cycles, both his money and luck, so he hands over the tokens without any hesitation. ]

You're not the only one who cuts deals you shouldn't. Go easy on yourself, huh? Kids make mistakes all the time.

[Hey clever little Alice in Wonderland reference I’m sure Russell will appreciate th— oh. Oh no actually he looks like you just slapped him. The color has drained from his face and his eyes dart nervously across the arcade like he’s looking for an escape route. Red and white and red red red white red red blood red blood red blood red and white unbreathing unbreathing unbreathing UNBREATHING—

When he speaks again, there is no trace of the previous gentle enjoyment left. His voice is distant, haunted. He holds his hand out and accepts the tokens.]

… It’s not a deal if you didn’t get a choice. It’s not a mistake if you meant to do it.

[ Maxwell completes the transaction automatically, even if he's become aware that all is not well at all with this fella.

But then, how could it be? Magical kidnapping aside (and so infrequently can magical kidnapping be put aside as a low priority), if he's learned anything in life it's that injuries don't heal, they compound, and complicate, and spiral, and reach out in all directions and hold fast and decay everything they touch.

Adapt or perish. ]

...Why don't we get a little fresh air, huh? Sunlight might do you some good. C'mon.

[ Absently he taps on the claw grabber glass to wake the Peeper, which startles up and then follows his little motion to the hole by which it entered. ]

[The color is gradually coming back to Russell. The moment appears to have largely passed.

Maxwell’s offer is unexpected but not, he’ll admit, unwelcome. He wonders what he must’ve looked like just then, to prompt that sort of response. Was he helpless and pathetic? Was this a type of “pity” too? Poor thing. Poor thing. Ha, what a joke.

Still, he nods slowly, stuffing the tokens into his pockets.]

…Where should we go?

I'd like to see what kind of fusion cuisine is in this dimension. I haven't had chespini for at least sixteen years, so fingers crossed.

[ Russell looks... steadier, not that Maxwell really knows what to do in situations like these. Tries to imagine what he'd want, in a similar situation. Certainly not a fuss. Maybe acknowledgment, but maybe not. A rose some days, the thorn on others, difficult and not worth the time taken.

Unwise curiosity is often his motivator. FAFO has always been Maxwell's biggest vice and virtue. ]

--You do believe this is all really happening, don't you?

Edited (historical accuracy my nemesis) 2025-02-05 21:23 (UTC)

…… Being here, you mean? It still doesn’t feel like it sometimes. So much about it makes no sense, shouldn’t even be possible. But it’s definitely… real.

[For better or worse. Russell takes his phone out of his back pocket and begins searching for restaurants in the area. He didn’t really get out a ton so he wasn’t familiar with all the local establishments.]

What is chespini?

Edited 2025-02-05 21:54 (UTC)

It doesn't take a brainbox to guess you might have had a doubt, so I'm just making sure. [ He has no idea why Russell is on his phone. Hasn't even remotely begun to absorb the power inherent in tiny-computer-internet-in-pocket. Just assumes he's texting someone on the EllipsaNet. ]

Chespini's a seafood stew. When individual fishermen weren't so lucky at their art, they came begging to the others, and received whatever scraps could be spared; a crab leg, mussel, or clam here, a shrimp or scallop there. Next time, the givers could be takers, and so on. Before I hit it big, I practically lived on that stuff.

[ He indicates Russell's phone. ] Anything interesting?

[People just… willingly helping one another in difficult times? Sounds fake but big if true. Russell holds out the phone to Maxwell, showing off a map.]

Mm. I found a place that might work. It’s not far if you use the nodes.

[He nods towards the exit and begins to walk that way, keeping an eye on his phone’s directions.]

… … So you were a fisherman?

[ Wow. Maxwell whistles low in appreciation at just how much this single device can actually do. ] Like the map scrolls from the Constant... But even more efficient. [ Even though large portions of the greater seasonal territories remain unexplored for safety reasons, which is honestly also a lot like the Constant. And speaking of things that are like the Constant? ]

The nodes also put one in the mind of the Telelocator and Lazy Deserter... [ Although those things tended to stress the mind, so it's not without slight trepidation that he considered the nodes earlier and decided to wait on using them.

He quirks a half-smile at the fisherman comment. ] I do enjoy fishing as a hobby, but no, not back then, I just lived in San Fransisco, near a sizeable community of fisherfolk, so that kind of food is a comfort these days.

What about you, anything you veer toward, in the gourmet sense?

[NOT BEATING THE VIDEO GAME ALLEGATIONS WITH THOSE ITEM NAMES, PAL. They’re intriguing sounding, at least. Maxwell had mentioned the “Constant” before when they were talking on the network, too - that must be the world he was sent to? Hmm.]

We didn’t have teleportation in my world. … Not the real world, anyway.

[Russell never thought much about food, before the dream. It was just whatever he could manage to make or buy for himself. Taste wasn’t priority. He’d come to know an aspiring chef in the dream, though. He’d even caught his own fresh fish! That said, he seems to brighten a little when Maxwell expresses an interest in fishing.]

I like… seafood. Meat pies. Turnimp salads.

[…What was that last one?]

Walking is fine in small doses. But when there's-- [ He stops. He was going to say 'miles to go before you sleep', sort of whimsically because he likes that poem, and yet the last time he just flippantly quoted some fiction this kid had a micro-depersonalization event or something, so he semi-smoothly amends: ] --miles in between you and where you're going, magic should intervene. Magic is often the answer. [ He's determined not to walk on eggshells, that's not his style, but it's not like he wants to make Russell feel like garbage on purpose so soon after whatever that was. Maybe once he knows a bit more he can avoid some of these problems better. ]

Seafood is the best, in my opinion. In fact, lobster, [ And he gestures a bit, before his brain catches up to the pun in the salad one, then snorts good naturedly. ] All right. Show me how a node works, if you'd be so good, pal.

[Russell doesn’t seem to catch what was funny about what he said. At any rate, he nods diligently and taps on the screen in front of him, indicating the node they’re headed to. Just like that, they’re hurled through space and it didn’t even cost them any of their sanity OR walnuts! They’re just suddenly there! Welcome to Blossomcrown.

He rocks in place as he reappears, taking him a moment to get his bearings before checking his phone and continuing the trek.]

…This way.

[It’s not a far walk to a tall building boasting a number of establishments, including OFF-SEASON’D, a little restaurant specializing in serving food based on the cuisines of otherworlders with an Ellipsian flare.

“Carrie, the player characters in this game are called otherworlders not offworlders so that restaurant name doesn’t really land…” LOOK if you can come up with a better name, have at it, judgy but admittedly entirely correct hypothetical voice. We don’t have to name it at all! I’m just trying to be ~IMMERSIVE~ here (and also I definitely forgot that fact and couldn’t think of anything better…)

It’s decorated in a clean but cozy way with some tasteful memorabilia from various otherworlder patrons’ home worlds brought in via wishing dandelion and donated.

There’s a cheery-looking young woman standing at a podium when they walk in.]

Table for two?

[ At least Maxwell knows he can fully indulge in shitbrain pun humor and jokes with Russell, whether or not Russell will actually appreciate them or approve. But for the moment there is learning about magitech (nice) and Blossomcrown (...interesting. Still has elements of the rat race about it, but there's a definite attempt to make the aesthetics less bleak). ] Fun place... Ha, fun name, too. I get it.

[ He's extremely interested in the objects, but even so, turns his full attention to the server as soon as they're addressed. ] Thank you, yes.

[ Good thing it's not a 'you need reservations' kind of place. He doesn't have 'you need reservations' money at the moment. He lets the young lady seat them and give them the physical menus, thank god it's not one of those 'QR code' things or he'd actually start beefing with the technology instead of admiring it. Then he goes back to staring pointedly at the artwork. This place is extremely different from the Constant, because that seemed like a vibrant dimension that black-holed itself and started pulling in mostly Earth people and mostly from a specific time and place. This is a total explosion of times and places. ]

Thanks for finding this place, by the way. [ That flinty intensity is banked, some, but not gone. And his eyes are curious as hell. ]

You could teleport in your dreams, then?

[Russell stares at the menu with a dull curiosity. Some of these things sounded entirely foreign. He doesn’t look up at Maxwell right away when spoken too, lingering on the food descriptions before raising his eyes.]

…Mm. [That doubles as both a “you’re welcome” and a “yes.”] There was a building by my house… that had items you could touch to teleport to different areas. Sort of like the nodes, but one-way.

And there was… the Homeward Rootie. An item Cody sold in her shop. It warped you back to town.

[…The dream was a little like an RPG too, in that respect, come to think of it. ~~Ha ha.~~]

So these were reoccurring dreams. With a through-line narrative. [ He meditates on Alice in Wonderland for a few seconds, letting his eyes reread the same few menu items again and again. Besides the odd literary reference, and the mathematical/logical aspects (and all those delicious chess metaphors), he can't say he's an expert on the dreaming parts of it, or even that they would necessarily apply. Maybe part of this experiment was programming this kid to respond to certain code words and some lab tech got cute.

He's done as bad to people, or worse, but he's still sorting all that out, and tracing culpability is hard when you're a villain and a victim in the same sitting. ]

Russell... [ He considers various lines of questioning. No good being cute about it. ] Is there somebody in this place who's looking out for you, or are you on your own here?

…Yes. I injected the drug every day and woke up in the same room in the same town.

[The Happy Dream Phenomenon is actually kind of fascinating conceptually - a technical marvel! (putting aside the highly unethical parts) - but Russell sounds very drab about it. He looks back down at the menu again.]

I live by myself. …… Doctor is here, though. …One of the people… from the dream.

[And it’s totally fine and they’re both Soooooo Totally Normal about this arrangement! There’s no wildly deep-seated unreality and guilt problems there at all! Hahaha ha ha haaa.]

Video, UN: Puppetking

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cw torture & murder ment

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CW vague mention of unreality

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cw brief needle & fantasy drug use mention

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CW pet death mention (almost forgot that)

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