Wave-Mania
She'd heard about it through the grapevine. Whenever she slipped off to the code world, just to get away from everything, Root had heard some passerbys talking about it. Discussing it with excitement, as it seemed relatively new.
She was curious. A place to unwind and relax, to have fun. She wouldn't lie, it sounded adult, but she just wanted a peek.
Getting there was pretty hard. Going through channels and portals, it nearly exhausted her. Eventually her feet land on..
Concrete? Blue concrete?
Loud cheering fills Root's hearing and she looks up, wide.
She was standing on a balcony, overlooking an arena. The stands were filled with so many programs and a few that looked Moderators.
Weren't.. fighting rings illegal?
Root slowly walks up to the railing and grips it. Oh. Oh this wasn't good. She needed to..
"Oh, hello there!" A female voice behind her purrs.
Root turns around to see a white cat, with a permanent ^w^ face, with the mouth moving as she spoke. Her whiskers were like that of a catfish, and she had a lower half that was not too dis-similar from a mermaids tail. Pectoral fins were on her arms, with a dorsal on her back. She was shades of white and neon blue.
"Welcome to Wave-Mania!" She purrs, flying forward. "I'm Bioluminescent! I'm one of the Moderators. Usually Current would greet new people, but she's out right now."
"This.. what is this?" Root asks, frowning.
"Why, a place for programs to get stronger!" Bioluminescent trills, flying over to the railing. Root locks onto the word stronger. "It may look like a fighting ring, but it trains everyone here! We always have medics on hand."
Seeing Root's doubtful face, the Moderator gently nudges her shoulder. "Here, follow me."
Root trails after the Moderator as she flies, and the virus looks around. She rubs her arm, her self-made cloak doing little to help hide herself. Her tan skin and silver hair stood out against the shades of blue making of Wave-Mania.
They arrive to the seat looking over the entire arena, and Root can't help but be surprised by the beauty of the Admin. At least, she thinks the Program in front of her is an Admin, as she does radiate that authority.
"Coral, I've brought someone." Bioluminescent speaks up.
"Goodness, what is a child doing here?" The Admin's voice is like that of waves gently crashing on the beach. Soothing and pleasant to listen to. "Come now, let's get you home."
"W-wait!" Root shakes her head. "Your Moderator.. sh-she said people get stronger here?"
The Admin pauses before smiling. "Yes, little one. You see, many programs come here searching to get stronger. But I've met many that want to train themselves to not become a monster."
Root's eyes widen. "Really?"
"Indeed." The Admin nods. "They come here because of a past, or they're an offshoot, or something similar. They don't want to repeat their past."
".. can.. can I join?"
"Goodness, you're a child!" The Admin looks shocked. "Why would I ever allow that?"
"Because.. I'm an offshoot." Root admits softly. "I don't want to hurt my friends."
The Admin is quiet before she sighs. "Very well. How about I train you myself?"
"You will?!" Root grins. "Th-thank you!"
"Of course." Coral hums. "Just don't go telling anyone, dear. Don't want us getting shut down, now do you?"
The Virus shakes her head, making the Admin smile. "Very good. Have a seat, and I'll tell you all about this little place of mine.."
As Root plops herself down a seat that forms by Coral, a small chat box appears beside her and Bioluminescent.
> Brillant work, Lumi.
> Thank you, boss
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hmmm thinking about how ocelot’s self-hypnosis works in mgsv (my interpretation of it anyway)
he tells snake to think of what he’s going to do to himself as “doublethink”, so to me it’s that he is always holding two conflicting and contradictory beliefs at the exact same time. depending on what’s going on, one belief is stronger than the other, and that becomes the “truth” to him.
so to him, there’s two truths: 1) i’m working with the real big boss and 2) this is just the phantom that i created.
for the majority of the time, he believes the first “truth”— although the other is always there, beneath the surface. in moments where he’s presented with information or situations that are inconsistent with what he believes to be reality (for example, snake “forgetting” russian), he’s able to subconsciously switch to the other “truth” in order to think up lies that keep the facade from faltering; to minimise the risk of the fabricated truth being splintered for himself, the phantom, and everyone around them.
then, as soon as he’s finished telling that lie, it’s no longer a lie; it’s the truth to him, incorporated into that first belief system, and that’s what he goes back to believing. so something like this:
from the mgsv script: Boss, you don’t understand what he said? Ahh… I guess that makes sense… (Ocelot is thinking of an appropriate lie) It looks like that “horn” stuck in your head has impacted the language center of your brain.
is something he’s telling himself too, a way to justify the phantom not acting like the real snake, and now it’s the real explanation. he knows he’s just a copy beneath the surface, but at the same time, he’s able to totally convince himself he’s not, and that he’s the real thing.
all throughout mgsv (or at least, until the time is right for him to completely abandon the “truth” he’s convinced himself of and understand that the real big boss is who he’s truly working with— whenever that is) i think he’s actively lying to and manipulating not just everyone else, but also himself, yet he doesn’t even fully realise it.
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i wonder if ill ever come to enjoy the touch of a man.
whether over time i'll grow used to the feeling of thick, sweaty hands that seemingly only know to grab at the wrong places, or lukewarm conversations about how pretty i am and god, i know im fucking pretty, but is that all i am to you?
am i just furniture? am i even real to men? in their fantasies, their musings about this body i own, do i even breathe?
i picture these versions of myself, the ones that encounter any and all of these petrifying scenarios in the minds of men with an eager smile and an arched spine.
or maybe he doesn't want me to smile, maybe I'll get on my knees and beg and plead. maybe I'll scream in terror and he'll beat me, and spit on me, and rape me, because it's really not about me.
its always about him.
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