Alive
Ballista
He woke up surrounded, stick figures on either side of him, guns in hand. He drew his sword and heard a scream that rocked his world.
And he became aware. Of the Outside. Of his Creator. Of the cursor that picked him up and took him off the stage and onto the desktop.
He wriggled in its grip, not enjoying being held at all, but not afraid. Why would he be?
He waved Out at his Creator, who waved back, still clearly a little shocked. After a moment, a notepad opened, and his Creator typed out a greeting in kanji.
“Hello.”
“Hey,” The newly created stick tore apart the kanji pixel by pixel to rearrange and respond.
“What are you?” Which earned a shrug from the stick.
“You made me. Who am I?”
There was a long pause, and the stick could see his Creator thinking before answering, “Ballista, your name is Ballista.”
Ballista nodded, he seemed satisfied with the name, face splitting into a grin.
“Now what?”
“I don’t know.”
—
Ballista watched his Creator work, and he watched shows with them, and he did lots and lots of posing to help his Creator figure out how to make the copy of him that wasn’t alive animate.
All the pictures strung together made an animation.
“Could another one come to life?” His Creator asked and Ballista could only shrug. How was he supposed to know? He didn’t even know how or why he was alive. What made him different from any other frame?
He was alive though, and life was good. His Creator was good to him. They drew him food, and a bed. They gave him cool abilities. They let him wander around the desktop as he wanted.
But, he still felt that something was missing.
—
“And that’s it. The last frame.” Ballista relaxed out of his pose, applauding his Creator’s work as they watched it back together.
He looked so cool.
He glanced back at his Creator and saw a strange expression on their face. One Ballista wasn’t sure how to read.
“Thank you for your help. You’re free to go.”
Ballista tilted his head, what did they mean, free to go?
He followed the cursor as it drifted down to the internet connection. And then with a few clicks it opened into a portal of white.
“It’s a way for you to get off this computer and onto the internet. Apparently there are more like you and they live in there. You deserve to be free.”
Ballista tapped his foot, on one hand, now that the portal was open, he wanted nothing more than to charge into it. But… “Can I come back?”
“Of course. You’ll be free to come back whenever you want.”
Ballista stared at the portal, then back at his Creator, whose eyes were shining wetly, and waved one last goodbye before taking a running leap into the unknown.
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AvA /AvM Oldest to Youngest
Do note, I feel like internet sticks such as Yellow and King were born and had a childhood, while hand-drawn stick figures like Second and Chosen are created at a specific age and then continue growing from there.
Bystander: 51
Royal Blue: 47
Navy/Tutorial Blue: 47
Neon/Tutorial Green: 44
King: 42
Hoodie: 39
Pink: 39 (when she died) 46 (if she lived)
Agent: 34
Primal: 33
Corn Dog Guy: 31
Ballista: 29
Hazard: 27
victim: 16 (when they died) 26 (if they lived)
Boss: 26
Chosen One: 26
Dark Green: 25
Cerulean: 23
Hangman: 23
Purple: 22
Dark Lord: 21
Blue: 20
Green: 20
Zaffre: 19
Yellow: 19
Red: 19
Second Coming: 18
Gold: 14 (when he died) 16 (if he lived)
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