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crusherthedoctor · 4 years

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In the Hall of the Would Be King

“Hmm...”

“No, that won't work...”

“Too similar...”

“Not using another brainless monster, not without a catch...”

“If I can find another Conch... Nah...”

“I could just steal the Master Emerald again...”

"Maybe I can use Metal's copied data samples for something...”

"Refine the Slow-Down Shoes perhaps...?”

In his newest lab, surrounded by faint darkness, the aspiring conquerer was hard at work on a new plan to ensure his domination... or at least, he would be hard at work, if he didn't have schemer's block. Though the doctor had many ideas circling around in his head, he dismissed each of them for one reason or another, having taken their chances of working out - or lack thereof - into account. Needless to say, he was not in the cheeriest of mindsets as a result.

“Maybe a virus would do the trick, I haven't tried that sort of method before...” Eggman mused to himself, tapping his pencil idly against the desk where his currently empty sheets of paper were positioned. Normally his papers would be used up with elaborate thoughts and schematics, but this was not the case today. Not a single bullet point or diagram could be found on any of them. He frowned as he stroked his chin in thought. “But such a thing would take ages to prepare, and it could easily escape my control if I'm not careful... bah...”

He lightly tossed his pencil aside, and he slumped on his chair, his wide moustache drooping just a little. He hated it when his imagination came to a road block. Not just because it meant he couldn't be productive with his time and brainwaves, but also because it would pave the way instead for more time to reflect on... him.

He tiredly rubbed his hairless cranium at the mere thought of that meddlesome hedgehog, the one who had thwarted his expertly devised plans, and his immaculately constructed machines, every single time, for what felt like generations. Everything about that hedgehog bothered him to no end. His ridiculous face, his endless taunting, his undeserved luck... How he loathed him so... And how he loathed those irritating theories spread about how he secretly liked him and would regret defeating him for good.

Absolute nonsense, he thought, with a loud bristle of his 'stache. Far as he's concerned, any respect towards the hedgehog is purely on an academic level, directed towards his power and the admittedly entertaining challenge he brings. On a personal level, he wants nothing less than to see his cocky mug six feet under at the bottom of the ocean, and that will never change one iota. He may like his fun, but he's always been serious about obtaining his empire. Why would he go out of his way to postpone his own victory?

“Confound that Sonic,” Eggman quietly muttered, a sneer visibly planting itself on his face. “No matter what I whip up, the conclusion remains the same. How does he always win? What is it I'm missing...? What miscalculation...”

True, he had underestimated his nemesis a couple of times in the past, and the same applied to the hedgehog's increasing number of colorful aquaintances. But he's gotten wiser over time, on top of his already established scientific brilliance, so why did Sonic remain the eternal victor even now?

The doctor scoffed, as he crossed his arms in a muted huff. Surely it couldn't be because of all those friends the hedgehog had. Not when half of his victories were on his own. Not when Eggman himself had far more resources than all of them combined. Not when half the time, Knuckles was on his side, although to be fair, that trick stopped working quite a while ago. And yet... Sonic does always go on about how friendship is everything to him... That's why he's always spouting drivel about teamwork, right?

Maybe the argument of strength in comrades had some degree of logic to it, even if only a little. Sonic's closest sidekick does share a similarly impressive IQ, though still considerably below the doctor's own, in his generous and humble opinion. Since he entered the scene, Tails had always been making planes, ships, and all other sorts of technological doodads, and though they would rarely rival the sheer scale of Eggman's own contraptions, the fox boy's expertise in his own right could not be denied. Though he despised the fox just as much as he did the fox's idol, Eggman could admit that with Tails, he would always be guaranteed an intellectual back and forth. More than can be said for Sonic, who preferred to speak in outdated catchphrases that he could never comprehend the utter inanity of.

Eggman's sneer loosened, as he contemplated further, though it didn't disappear entirely. His biggest dream had always been to be recognised as the best and most beloved genius there ever was. Yet for all his efforts, everyone feared and hated him, because what, he fires a missile at the occasional city? He corrupts the occasional alien species into violent monsters? He pays the occasional media to publicly slander the hedgehog and his friends? Meanwhile, that loathesome piñata of spines was always the one who gained everyone's love and respect with minimum effort... the love and respect that belonged to him.

Why couldn't anyone on this entire globe see that he should be the one everyone should idolize. That he should be the one everyone should parade around like a reclaimed treasure. That he should be the one everyone wants to be friends with-

“How's the plan coming along, doc?”

“BUZZ OFF.”

“Alright then, see ya,” Cubot casually mumbled with a salute, as he left the room as quickly as he entered it.

He turned his head back to his empty papers, very much agitated. His mood was always at its worst when Sonic was on the brain, to the surprise of few. So what if Sonic was the world's fastest thing alive? Eggman was the world's greatest scientist alive. Making new innovations and paving the way for a better future (from a certain point of view) was far more worthy of high esteem than simply running around with your arms outstretched like an airplane. Stupid animal, wrecking apart his glorious monuments of technology like they're nothing.

Still, what monuments of technology they were...

He thought back to when he created the Egg Dragoon, and how he and Sonic - in an alternate and frankly bizarre form - duked it out towards the heart of the world. Despite the outcome being the same as most of their battles, he looked back fondly on the memory, if only because he remained proud of that particular creation in spite of its untimely demise. Why wouldn't he? It had more weapons than you could shake a ring at, its design was awe-inspiring without compromising its practical purposes, AND it could withstand the extreme temperatures of the planet's core with no issue whatsoever. It was one of his biggest breakthroughs, and this was a man who considered everything he ever made a breakthrough.

Well, almost everything. The Egg Dealer was made on an off day.

His lips curled into a smile, and he rested his legs on his desk, crossing them after the fact. As he clasped his hands by his rotund chest, he lifted his mood back up as his thoughts shifted from his enemy to his achievements. He was so delighted to finally bring Eggmanland to life that same day. He never quite decided on what exactly he wanted it to be as the years went by - one day it would be a city, the next day it would be a theme park - but when it finally went under construction, he was more than happy with the results by jamming all his ideas for it together. Sonic may have ultimately conquered it, but at least he got to see his much longed paradise in the metallic flesh for a brief moment... and it certainly wasn't an easy endeavor for the accursed pincushion regardless. He made sure of that much.

The Death Egg was another one he always had a soft spot for, no matter how many times Sonic sent it plummeting. It was the doctor's first project of such a scale, and its design remained emblematic of everything the mad scientist stood for... himself, and nothing else. Simplicity can do just fine sometimes. He laughed merrily as he recalled all his additional Death Eggs, and all his additional spacecraft that might as well have been the Death Egg, like the Cosmic Angel, and the Egg Utopia. He always did like the view from space... mainly because he got to look over what he considered his kingdom.

Sonic always questioned how he constantly had the money to make all his material, particularly his intimidating doomsday devices, and his consistently oversized fortresses. Alas, that would remain his secret. But who said he was shortsighted enough to only have a single means of obtaining his investments...? For all his childish habits, he was remarkably shrewd when it came to maintaining his finances. He would certainly hope so, that's for sure. What sight would be more embarrassing than a revolutionary without a penny?

And of course, there was Metal Sonic. Still one of his finest inventions to date, and track record of defeats aside, time and advancements have only reaffirmed that in a way. He remembered how unashamedly excited he was when he first witnessed his prized subject in action, particularly after witnessing its raw speed, having realised he had successfully created something that would give even its flesh and blood copy a run for his money in the very field he prided himself on. There was a reason that whereas other models and units came and went, Metal always remained by his side. He was undoubtedly a special robot to Eggman, and questionable though it may be, he eventually grew to see Metal as something of a son... Ironic, given who he was based on.

In fact, in retrospect, Eggman couldn't even bring himself to reflect that angrily on the Egg Fleet takeover, for as utterly humiliating as the experience was for him at the time, it at least validated the genius of Metal's programming, and how it brought the copycat's power to new heights.

Not sure what his appearance was going for at the time, though. That was a bit too tacky even for him to stomach. And you know, a betrayal's a betrayal, so he still had to be taught a lesson. He was only slightly more forgiving when it turned out that Metal had simply overloaded with all that power, as opposed to him actively calculating to upstage his master. He made sure that wouldn't happen again if the robot underwent any future upgrades... both the overloading and the poor fashion sense.

Even so, Metal was a testament to artificial intelligence, and a pinnacle of robotics. The doctor leaned back on his chair once more, cackling some more, followed by a sigh of satisfaction. He's made so many great things over the years, hasn't he? Of course he has. If he hadn't, he wouldn't be Ivo Robotnik, would he?

Suddenly, he paused, as his own surname flashed through his mind.

And with that soon came the memory of a different Robotnik altogether. That being, of course, his long departed grandfather.

His face quickly changed once again, this time neither happy nor angry.

Instead... there was conflict.

Once upon a time, he had nothing but praise for the memory of Gerald Robotnik, citing him as the inspiration to try his own hand at the world of science in the first place. Bloodline aside, perhaps it was no coincidence that they looked so strikingly alike. As a kid, he never actually saw Gerald in person, as the latter's occupation meant he was constantly hard at work on the latest concept that would revolutionize the world. Even so, he knew how amazing he was, and he admired all the intellectual prowess that he showed in his lifetime, even if he didn't particularly care for the whole "benefit of mankind" side of it.

But after that incident aboard the A.R.K... his thoughts weren't quite the same since then. He hated having to team up with that wretched hedgehog in order to ensure he had a world to conquer, as the one thing a genius like him hates more than even Sonic is having no control over anything. But his resentment over the incident went deeper than that. He still admired Gerald's intelligence, and still pointed to it as what led to the man that he is today, but the idea that his own grandfather may not have given a second thought about his own extremely gifted grandson's demise in the fallout of the A.R.K's collision course... was not an easy reality for him to consider. Even if they never met each other per say, did he really mean that little to Gerald?

And all because of his despair over Maria, the other grandchild...

The lesser one, Eggman thought bitterly, as he clenched his fist on the desk in a deceptively tranquil fit of stress. While Gerald was always too busy for young Ivo (and come to think of it, so were his parents, though that didn't matter as much), he had all the time in the world for Maria. Supposedly because of some illness or other that he dedicated his life to finding a cure for... but still, why did he hold her up high on a pedestal so much? Granted, Eggman never knew his cousin that well either, but what did she do to deserve it? SHE wasn't the one who made advanced automations during their school years, and anyway, if it hadn't been for her, Gerald wouldn't have gone insane and came close to wiping HIM from existence.

The doctor had no physical memorabilia of his grandfather, and it was always a secret desire to have at least one photo, no matter how old. But he also realised that even if he had one, it would have a likely chance of including the golden-haired child right beside him. For the sake of not having to witness the apparent bias at work, that was not designed in his own favor, perhaps it was for the best.

As he slumped further on his egg-shaped chair, he recalled to his own misfortune that it wasn't simply Maria on her own. By all accounts, Gerald seemed to favor another child over him as well... his pet project, to be exact. The Ultimate Lifeform.

The doctor's feelings on Shadow were every bit as messy, complicated, and a touch regretful. On one hand, he hated Shadow just like the rest. For making a fool out of him and causing the A.R.K. fallout to begin with, and for subsequently going on to join G.U.N. and oppose him alongside all those other anthropomorphic piles of sassy misery... along with that worthless traitor, E-123 Omega. His entire routine with the Shadow Androids was in part an act of petty revenge, to make the black hedgehog feel like a fool himself. An eye for an eye, as they say.

But at the same time... it didn't have to be this way. Eggman was perfectly aware that Shadow wasn't entirely on a different wavelength from him. Despite their dissimilar attitudes, their views were often in-tune with each other, and if there's one thing Eggman likes, it's when someone agrees with him wholeheartedly. They were both smart, and they could both see the grander picture. Not to mention their somewhat familial relation, even if they weren't literally related by blood. They agreed that the world had its issues, and the situation with Gerald was something that caused problems for both of them. It was also no secret that Shadow wasn't necessarily on buddy ol' pal terms with Sonic, especially when compared to the likes of the pink hedgehog, whose endless fawning never ceased to evade the doctor's approval and understanding. By all means, Shadow would understand Eggman's need for control, right...? Would he not take up the offer to help spread that control, and purge the world and beyond of all that could stand in the way of progression...?

No, it would seem not. Shadow considered Eggman's ideas a step too far into the realm of moral depravity (and perhaps absurdity), and never hesitated to inform him of that in blunt terminology. In Shadow's eyes, Eggman may be Professor Gerald's successor, but deep down, he was more comparable to Black Doom. Nothing more than scum in its purest form. At least, that was the impression that the doctor was given ever since the Ultimate Lifeform switched sides.

Is it possible... If he were still alive, and had he not gone off the deep end...

Would Gerald have felt the same way as his creation...?

Would he have disapproved of his grandson's actions...?

Would he have cast doubt on the path he's chosen in life...?

...Hmph. Who cares. What does it matter, when he ended up hardly a perfect bastion of selflessness either...

Eggman sighed to himself, born out of simultaneous acceptance and resignation. After all the time that had passed since the incident, it was still as clear as yesterday to him. He was forced to learn that day that for all his strengths, Gerald Robotnik was flawed like any other being... and those flaws came at Eggman's own expense, which was the important thing. He rested his elbows on his desk with his uniquely shaped head in his hands, almost prepared to sleep the night away to escape the depressing reality surrounding his childhood hero's shortcomings. No one was perfect, except himself.

Besides, he reasoned. Even Gerald apparently failed to unlock the mystery of the Ethereal Zone...

………...

Wait.

Eggman slowly raised his head, as if a light bulb inside had just been set to maximum. His body tensed up. There was no obvious emotion on his face, and yet the glint in his glasses seemed to shine that little bit more as he processed his fresh revelation. After a brief period of uneasy silence, sitting as still as a statue...

He catapulted from his chair without warning, and almost broke the door open to the right of his lab with his surprising strength, revealing a flight of stairs that descended into the unknown. He rushed down the stairs like a madman, his feet gliding faster than all those times he escaped the blue hedgehog on foot, yet he did not stumble for a second, for despite his sudden frantic behaviour, he was very much focused. He went further and further down, the shadows below inviting him to continue the path that suggested great promise... or damnation.

Though he would have taken the time to admire the gargantuan portraits of himself on the walls in any other instance, each of them in their own over-enthusiastic poses, he neglected to take a moment to do even that, such was the speed of his feet as well as his brain. When he finally got to the bottom, he slammed a second door wide open, which revealed what appeared to be a personal library of sorts, filled to the brim with notes and publications about a wide variety of subjects that, with a few exceptions, nonetheless pertained mostly to science and history. Even in this personal library, a magnificent golden statue of his own self stood tall in the middle of the room, its muscular arms holding up the roof as if it were the mighty Atlas, complete with a flattering six pack that was, let's say, visually ambiguous on the real doctor's own person.

Eggman scanned the rows of books to no end, his concealed eyes darting left and right at a speed worthy of his nemesis. He sprinted towards the row furthest on the left, starting from A and working from there. Most of his books were made by a certain author that he was very familiar with, right down to inhabiting his body, but he possessed some of the late Gerald's documents as well here and there. The more he thought about it, there was that one that he never got around to reading. He had obtained it way back in the day... must have been around the time of the Flicky Island siege... but if he remembered the cover correctly, he was absolutely certain it related to what just clicked in his head. It wasn't about the Ultimate Lifeform, or his Prototype, or the Chaos units, or the Black Arms, or the Gizoid, or even the A.R.K. itself… it was something else entirely, of which he only knew the name of. And though Gerald's pursuits were often connected to each other, this one might have been before all that...?

“Is there something you need, doctor?” asked the timely arrival of Orbot, as he made his own way down the stairs in a mild hurry. “I heard a spot of noise a moment ago, and...”

He already concluded that the doctor wasn't listening, as he was much too focused on finding that one book. He paced along the aisles like a hungry tiger, yet his eyes were glancing up and down repeatedly, faster and faster. It wasn't in the A aisle, wasn't in the B aisle, nor in the C aisle, or the D... Wisp books... Little Planet books... cooking books... where was it, he thought to himself in a jumbled combination of giddiness and frustration that frequently clashed with each other by the second. He gritted his teeth slightly. Where was that one blasted book. He swore to himself that if Cubot lost it, or if he placed it out of alphabetical order in the wrong aisle - even by the second letter - then he would gladly rearrange his scrapped remains into a Dreamcast so functional that he could play Skies of Spagonia on-

...No. That won't be necessary. Not today. For it finally came into view, in the G aisle, thankfully the correct placement in this case. Fitted tightly between the sleeper hit of “The Games of Dr. Eggman”, and the somewhat rarer “The Glory of Man: An Ivo Robotnik Story”, sat one lone book... a hefty one from the looks of it, even compared to those by its immediate left and right. Using the uncanny length of his right arm, he effortlessly picked it out, its weight resulting in no visible strain on his part. Not even a second into looking at the cover, he could already tell for sure that this was the very one, as it was marked with a rather beautiful array of different colours, almost every colour of the rainbow at that. It was capped off with sharp white outlines that appeared to resemble translucent crystals, each complex outline forming a circle all together, like the shining rays of the sun. The title, in thick white bold, was upfront about its subject:

The Gems of Heaven, by Professor Gerald Robotnik A study of Viridonia and its phenomena

Without a word, he scrambled through the pages, not giving the slightest concern towards the proud history of this region, nor its sights, nor its cultures... only one thing was on his mind, which was already beginning to make a sinister calculation even at this primordial moment. Flashes of colour were passing through the pages, with photos so awe inspiring that anyone else would have taken a moment to savor… Until at last, his speedy page turning came to a very abrupt halt. It was as if time itself grieved. He found the part he was looking for... to the unknown regret of the rest of the population...

“Is something wrong?” Orbot asked, more timidly this time. He was facing the back of his creator, and he had no idea what mood he was in, though given what he overheard earlier at Cubot's expense, he could have made an easy guess. The master still didn't respond, what with his intense fixation on what he was reading. Despite the plentiful amount of pages dedicated to the chapter in question, his mental process was breezing through it. His eyes finally slowed down, and he took the time to read it through a second time, though still rather quickly compared to that of the average person.

All of a sudden, he closed the book shut. It made a notable echo in the room, enough to make his servant flinch. His shoulders rose a single time, then relaxed back down, as if a weight had been lifted off of them.

“Doctor...?”

“We have work to do,” Eggman finally answered. His voice was calm... uncharacteristically so. “A lot of work. Perhaps I shall rebuild some old friends to help us out... In the meantime, set a course for Viridonia, immediately.”

“Viridonia? Never heard of that one... whatever, got it,” Orbot complied without argument. “Let's just hope Sonic doesn't obtain another new pesky friend to his collection when he inevitably catches on to us, hmm?” He was about to head back upstairs, but he hesitated for a moment, and raised a finger as he turned back to the doctor. “You are okay though, right doctor?”

Eggman stood still for a few seconds, though Orbot could see his head raising ever so slightly. He slowly turned to the robot's direction, counter clockwise... and with it, a perfect grin on his face. Orbot had seen that maniacal grin so many times before, so surely he would be used to it... Yet in his heart of circuits - maybe it was due to how it glistened in the shadows - he could immediately sense that something was off with this one... more than usual anyway... He didn't like it.

This was it, the scientist thought.

With uncontested proof, everyone would at last be left with no argument, as they finally witness the day.

The day he officially surpasses his grandfather to the world.

Even if the world has to suffer for it.

“Never felt better.”

#Crusher's Fanfiction #Sonic the Hedgehog #Dr. Ivo Robotnik #Fanfiction

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stillebesat · 5 years

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The Path: A Tale of Trick or Treating -Prince (11/15)

Sanders Sides: Logan, Patton, Roman, Virgil, Deceit, Remus Sanders Shorts: Remy (Sleep) Cartoon Therapy: Emile Picani Blurb: You’ve been trick or treating at the Sanders Side’s homes for as long as you can remember, but this year things get a bit more…complicated. Fic Type: Halloween, Adventure Chapter 11 Warnings: Duke mentions Author’s Note: This fic is told in Second Person.

Previous Houses: Remus(1) Patton(2) Emile(3) Remy(4) ???(5) Logan(6) Roman(7) Virgil(8) Diva(9) Duke(10)

Seer. Juice. Coins. Beast. Apple. King. Saint.

The disjointed thoughts tumble through your mind as you move quickly through the streets that were growing emptier as the night progressed, awkwardly carrying in your arms both the skull full of marbles with the bag of skittles sitting on top, and your candy bucket that you barely remembered to rescue from its hiding spot in the bushes.

Will you bring more Appley Juice?

You shiver, once more adjusting the skull as you turn another corner. It had been warm when Remus first gave it to you, but the further you walked from his house, the icier it seemed to get.

You glance down, checking to make sure the bag of skittles was still there.

Skittles. Coins. Seer. King.

It wasn’t like the other homes had been straight forward in telling you which house to go to next.

But Remus...Remus had been different.

Coins. Skittles. Marbles.

Three different things...okay, two different things. But if the marbles went to Roman and Roman gave you the coin, then why did you have the Skittles too? HOW had Remus known the fortune Dr. Picani had given you for giving him a quar---

You gasp, nearly dropping the skull.

OF COURSE! The coin!

You shift your arms, nearly losing the bag of Skittles in the process, but with your hands full you can’t check your pockets for the golden dollar.

The coin had to go to Dr. Picani! How had you not made that connection sooner! It wasn’t like anyone else ever needed quart--

“Chosen one?”

You start, looking up as a cape wraps around your shoulders, immediately sending warmth into your frozen limbs.

For half a second you can’t understand why the face before you doesn’t have a stalker stache under his nose nor why Remus is looking at you like he’d just found a lost puppy.

“What ails you?” He asks, keeping his voice low, wrapping an arm around you to guide you closer to the brightly lit home.

But this Remus doesn’t have the eyeball on the shoulder. This Remus has a cape. This Remus wasn’t laughing like a crazed lunatic. This Remus wasn’t Remus! It was--

“Roman!” You gasp out as your whirling mind finally makes the connection.

He raises a regal eyebrow. “Yes, my young Royal. It is I, but why have you come again to me this ni--”

The bag of Skittles plops to the ground, your candy bucket nearly following it as you hastily lift the skull up out from under his cloak so that Roman could see it and all the marbles within.

“IgottheskullforyoubecauseihadtogobacktoRemusandididntknowifyouneededallthemarblesandidontlikehimatallwhydoesheneedmetobringhimmoreappley--appleimeanapplejuicenextyearcanthegogetithimselfandhessoweirdbutIpromisedandIgottheskullfromhimandbroughittoyouandhegavemeSkit--imeananotherthingbutidontthinkitgoestoyoubutywhydidhegivemetwothingswhenIstillhavetogivethecointo--” You say, the words tumbling uncontrollably from your lips.

Roman kneels in front of you, warm hands resting on your wrists, his eyes flickering between you and the skull that now feels like a block of dry ice, numbing your fingers as you babble at him somehow managing to make sense of what you were trying to tell him.

“You got--You saw my brother agai--He told you his NAME?” He asks, barely above a whisper.

You draw in your first breath in ages, nodding vigorously. “And he gave me all the marbles!” You point out because wasn’t that the important part? That Roman will win the competition this year?

You glance to the Chalice, noting that it doesn’t look any difference since you put in your dozen marbles earlier.

“He did indeed.” Roman gives the slightest shakes of his head and leans in, looking into your eyes like he’s staring into the depths of your soul. “But first, my young Royal, before we put the marbles into the chalice and ensure our victory, can you promise me one thing?”

Your fingers twitch on the frozen skull. “What?” You ask, searching his face. You’d never seen Roman appear so...vulnerable. He was always self assured. Confident.

He draws in a shaky breath. “If..if you don’t complete The Path tonight, please...please keep your promise to my Brother for next year. Give him his apple juice. He--” Roman looks away to the chalice. “He doesn’t trust others easily and you--you have his name. None else have earned that Honor.” He turns back to you. “Please.” His voice cracks on the word. “Don’t make him regret it.”

Swallowing, your heart aching at the sincerity of his plea, you nod. “I promise.” You say softly.

With how...chaotic the Duke was, you definitely didn’t want to risk his wrath, so you definitely planned to return regardless of the fact that you intended to finish the Path this year. But knowing that Remus...trusted you? More than any other person who’d set foot on this Path?

Suddenly the skull doesn’t feel so cold in your hands.

Roman visibly relaxes, his regal smile appearing back on his face like it had never gone. He straightens, pulling the cloak from around your shoulders to dramatically flare it behind him. “Then come! My dear Chosen One, let’s continue your valiant quest! Pour my brother’s spheres into yonder cup and my victory shall be complete!” He bows to you, the red stone in his crown catching the light as he gestures for you to approach the chalice.

Heart pounding harder in your chest, you carefully put your bucket of candy on the ground before approaching the pedestal. Using both hands to lift the skull up to the chalice, you tilt it, glancing to Roman as you do so.

Clink.

He looks up from his bow as the first marble falls, the regal King once again replaced by the more vulnerable Roman as he watches the marbles pour into the chalice like lives were on the line.

Maybe there were.

Clink clink clink clink clink clink clink clink.

The final marble leaves the skull and you set it aside, turning fully to Roman just in time to see the Red Ruby in his crown flash to a brilliant vibrant Green Emerald.

“YES!” Roman cries as he surges forward, grabbing you by the hands. He pulls you into a dance, spinning you around the porch. “YOU DID IT CHOSEN ONE! YOU DID IT!!” He laughs, a throaty sound much different from his brothers and suddenly drops to his knees in front of the chalice now filled with shining red and white spheres, still clinging to your hands.

“I have already given you your next task.” He says, giving your fingers a light squeeze. “Only one more thing can I offer.”

Roman lets go of you to grab the half forgotten bag of Skittles from the ground, placing it into your candy bucket with as much care, if not more, as he’d done for the King Sized Chocolate Bar earlier tonight. “When all is said and done and you’ve reached the end of The Path and gained your reward.” He says, lifting the bucket up to you like a supplicant seeking alms from their King. “Remember to unlock the gate.”

On to the Next House Picani(12) Logic(13) Deceit(14) ???(15)

Taglist in reblog.

#The Path: A Tale of Trick or Treating #stillebesat #Sanders Sides #Roman #Creativity #Duke mention #Halloween #Trick or Treat #2nd person pov

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intoxicatedeuphoria · 7 years

Text

Day 1: Chess (Royai Week 2017)

NECESSARY EVIL

She would be the queen who would make him king.

Roy Mustang fiddled with his silver pocket watch nervously. His lieutenant – no, it’s captain now – was late.

Fifteen minutes late to be exact.

Riza Hawkeye was never late…

…unless something happened to her.

The door opened with a creak, and the newly promoted brigadier general almost jumped out of his seat.

“I’m terribly sorry, sir,” the blonde woman began, entering the room with her beloved dog, “but Hayate’s leash broke on our way here, and since the pet supplies store was on the way, I decided to drop by before coming here. I apologize for not calling.”

Roy released a sigh of relief. “It’s alright, lieu – err, captain,” he fumbled awkwardly. “Sorry, I’m still not used to your new rank.”

“It’s the same for me, sir,” she admitted with a slightest hint of a smile.

He sat up straight and motioned for her to take a seat. “Well, let’s get to business then, shall we?”

She settled on the armchair across his, while Black Hayate laid down by her feet.

She inhaled deeply, as if preparing herself for the worst.

“Col—“ she shook her head, then tried again. “Brigadier General Mustang, may I have your permission to speak freely?” she requested weakly, so unlike her.

He nodded.

“Sir, I’m sorry, but…” Her right hand grabbed the arm of the chair tightly and continued. “I’m afraid I cannot watch your back anymore in the near future.”

Nothing could have prepared him for her declaration.

He froze in his seat, his breath caught in his throat.

For a minute or so, his mind went utterly blank.

“What are you talking about?” he demanded harshly. It was all he could say after recovering a part of his wit.

“Please don’t get me wrong,” she said steadily even when her hands shook as she placed them on her lap. “I’m not abandoning you, sir. I just found a better way to help you reach the top, that’s all.

Their eyes met, and hers were filled with equal parts of desperation and dread. He could only guess at how his looked like. He was a convoluted mess of emotions, and panic was slowly taking over his entire being.

“Do you trust me?” she asked, her voice so gentle that it calmed him down considerably, but not completely.

He kept his gaze on her as he replied. “With my life.”

Her eyes widened slightly at his confession, and he added as an afterthought, “…and everything in it.”

It took her a second longer to recover. A sigh escaped her lips, then her explanation came afterwards. “Please believe me when I say I’m doing this for your – no, for our goal. Right now, I’m still working on the details, but I promise you, everything will be worth it.”

No, not everything. I can’t lose you. Roy screamed inside his head.

He tried to reign in his feelings, but he was failing miserably.

“What is this really about, Riza?” His voice was loud, but trembling.

Her eyes widened once again, but she regained herself in a blink of an eye.

Slowly, the corners of her mouth lifted as she countered carefully, “Which chess piece do you think is the strongest, sir?”

“Definitely the Queen,” he responded in a heartbeat with an intense gaze directed at her.

The direction of their conversation bewildered him, but he decided to indulge her. After all, Riza Hawkeye was a woman of purpose. There must be a point in all of this. There had to be or he would lose his mind from the confusion.

“…and when is she most powerful?” she resumed her questioning as she crossed her arms.

“When she’s moving across the board,” he stated mindlessly.

“Precisely.” A proud grin took over her countenance.

He raised an eyebrow. “What are you getting at?”

She ignored his question and started speaking instead, “The Queen is useless when she’s always next to the King. She, out of all the other pieces, has the greatest chance of leading the King towards victory.”

Roy tilted his head to the side. He already knew all of this, so why–

“One last question, sir,” she declared suddenly, effectively interrupting his musing. “Who is more powerful than the Queen?”

He scratched his chin before he voiced out, “Isn’t it the King?”

“Don’t you think he’s the weakest one of them all, sir? After all, he’s the main target, but can only move one square at a time.” She reasoned out evenly.

He let out a displeased grunt.

Riza chuckled softly at his undisguised dismay. She knew how much he adored the chess metaphor, and here she was, insulting the King who was supposed to be him.

“Fine,” he acquiesced, letting her have her fun. “Then pray tell, my fair lady, who is more powerful than the Queen in the game of chess?”

She regained her composure, then captured his gaze once more.

“The person who moves the pieces across the board.”

Her answer floored him, and all of a sudden, everything fell into place in his mind.

Riza watched as his eyes lit up in comprehension. He might not know what the actual plan was, but at least he had some idea who the players involved might be.

In about two years’ time, Führer Grumman, her maternal grandfather, would set the stage for her, and she planned to take the country by storm as the First Granddaughter. If everything went according to their plan, she would become the de facto First Lady of Amestris since she was the one – and only, he assured her – woman in the führer’s life.

By doing so, Riza believed that she could pave the way to the top for him.

It was a brilliant idea, really. She came up with it after reflecting on the events that led to the Promised Day.

It was her conversation with King Bradley, in particular, that prompted her to come up with this plan. She knew that the homunculi got away with what they had done for centuries because they were good at manipulating the perception of humans – of the masses, in the case of Wrath. They eventually stopped the homunculi’s plot and brought down the Bradley regime, but the system – as well as the institutions associated with it – that Father and his homunculi had established remained.

And then one day, Riza realized that the only way to beat it was to join it.

It was high time they started playing politics.

In the end, politics was simply another game involving cunning moves and great sacrifices.

She finally understood why her grandfather insisted on playing chess with Roy. He was preparing his favorite protégé for what was in store for him the closer he got to the top.

This time around, she refused to become a passive piece.

She would lead him to victory and would do so in a way only she could.

She would be the Queen who would make him the King.

HAPPY ROYAI WEEK~!!

Soo... it’s a little rough around the edges since I was cramming so much a bit. It’s supposed to be the prologue for a multichapter fic entitled Playing Politics, which I was planning to work on maybe never eventually. I’m still deliberating whether to write the rest of it because I would have to ignore Roy and Riza’s epilogue photo (where he’s a general without the ‘stache please and she has short hair) for this story to make sense. Going against canon breaks my heart, but the canon is breaking my heart, too!! T__T

#royaiweek17 #royai #roy mustang #riza hawkeye #fullmetal alchemist #FMA #my stories #kite's fanfics #FMA fanfiction

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