User blog:GamerNerd i/Christmas: For Allies, Enemies, and the Forgotten in Between

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Happy Holidays! I expected something in my stocking this morning, but I didn't expect a Recreator email in my inbox. Ah, well, duty calls... Looks like Aidan has something to tell us.

//TBH I'm probably going to severely regret writing this and get a lot of weirdness points, but what the hell. What's done is done. Also, I probably should have written this to use the horizontal line less. "Use sparingly" they say. So much for that...

Hey ,

It’s me, Aidan. Merry Christmas! Or... Well, I guess it’s more correct to say “Happy Holidays.” Funny how the majority of major religious events are celebrated at around the same time of the year...

Anyway, I’ve been a little busy dimension-hopping recently, so I haven’t had the chance to check in for a while. Why, you ask? It’s event season, so everyone’s been redecorating. You’re probably aware that games have holiday themes, like the Feastivus I’m sure you’re familiar with. Ive been involved with this decorating since I became a Recreator. Heck, I helped Suburbia get decorated the other day; both the Plants and Zombies. Let me tell you a little story...

I started with he Zombies. Obviously, Zomboss hates me, but considering what he needs to work with, he’s willing to strike a truce to get things up. Well, his second-in-command is willing, anyway. I don’t know of Zomboss knows.

Scientist is a pretty nice guy, if you’re on his side. We’re wary of each other, but after that last fiasco he’s not going to take his chances with Zoologist’s mind control. There’s probably a hint of mutual respect there, but I shouldn’t be the one to say. The usual things had to be put up: tree, ornaments, wreaths, the like... Then I had to fetch costumes.

“A few of the Zombies enjoy dressing up for holidays, so their costumes are in the base somewhere,” Scientist explains. “Unfortunately, they’re all too stupid to actually find them in the warehouse. Would you mind getting them? They shouldn’t be too hard to find.”

I nod. “Not a problem. Also, you might wanna stop those Imps...” He turns around as several Imps stacked like a totem pole attempt to place a brain on top of the tree. He hurries off to reprimand them as I turn to the holiday decoration warehouse. Behind me, I hear a crash.

See, this is why I help. Most of the Zombies are horribly incompetent. They may be villains, but setting up holiday decorations doesn’t hurt anybody.

I walked through the familiar warehouse of holiday decorations. Lawn of Doom, Food Fight, Birthdayz, Luck O’ The Zombie... It was all here. I hefted a fallen Gargantuar’s carrot club back onto the Springening shelf. (For its size, it’s pretty light, in all honesty. A hollow aluminum alloy, aerospace quality--even if it doesn’t look like it.)

Feastivus, like the other events, takes up a large section of the warehouse. Most of it is costumes, mostly duplicates for the many Zombies that make up a single "type" of attacker. I pull out my Inventory Pouch and start stuffing the costumes in.

I haven’t told you about the Inventory Pouch yet, have I? It’s kinda self-explanatory. Small bag that’s impossibly big on the inside, enchanted with the same spacewarping magic that lets a Steve carry around a thousand 1 cubic meter blocks of solid diamond without difficulty or a bulging pocket. Nothing complicated conceptually.

About halfway through the special Gargantuar leashes, I get the vague feeling that someone is watching me, and not in a good way. Most people would brush it off as imagination, but as a Recreator, I know that nothing is just imagination. I continue to stuff the bag in silence and pull a Lucario, trying to sense the aura of whoever is behind me. Reading: female, about 16, not much older than me. Not a Zombie or Zombie Hero; Nadia wouldn’t be here. This person is just... Watching. As long as it’s just watching, I’ll be fine. If she becomes aggressive... Well, sucks for her.

I finish collecting the costumes and turn around. Sure enough, the stalker is gone. I shrug it off. Someone’s always keeping tabs on me, whether I’m aware of them or not. No big deal. Usually.

I whistle Carol of the Bells as I walk out of the warehouse and back to Scientist. He’s brought out the vending-machine-like sorter that’s used to give out the costumes. He glances up from supervising a Jetpack swarm set up tinsel.

“You know what to do,” He says. Then he goes back to directing the straightening of the decorations.

I stood for about three minutes just letting the costumes fall out of my tiny pouch into the massive machine. When the last gift sack was out, I queued one of each costume. The fabric came out perfectly folded, accompanied by their respective props.

I whistle to Scientist and give him a thumbs up. He nods and I turn to leave. Now it’s the Plants’ turn.

Peashooter greets me and takes a big sniff as I walk in. “Why do you smell like musty fabric?”

“You’re not the only one who decorates at this time of year,” I respond. “Nadia and I give your rivals hell during the year. Consider it a form of penance for me.”

Naturally, he’s skeptical, but gives me orders anyway. “Rose and Sunflower are trying to grow new wreaths. The old ones got burnt by someone careless.”

An “Oh, shut up!” comes from a Fire Chomper on the other side of the base. “I never said it was you!” Peashooter yells back. “Anyway, they should be in Rose’s castle. You know the way, right? Go help them out.”

“Roger that,” I say. I walk through the giant tree that holds up Crazy Dave’s house. Rose’s red portal on the other side takes me back a few centuries, to Rose’s home in the Dark Ages.

The two flowers are in the greenhouse. They’re combining their talents to accelerate the growth of some branches, but they can’t quite get the shape right.

“You can’t just assume that it’ll stick to the outside of the model,” Sunflower insists. “It’ll just grow all over the place.”

“Yes, but it will not grow at all if we force it to stay inside the model,” Rose rebuts, “Even as we accelerate its growth, it needs sunlight.”

“Sunlight? I’m a Sunflower! Sunlight is my job!”

“Calm down, you two,” I say carefully. “You can’t use a solid model to get a wreath to grow.” Between my hands I form a wireframe donut, similar to what you’d see in the behind-the-scenes of 3D animation. I will the wires to be tangible, and the donut shape falls into my hands. “Try this.”

I haven’t explained spriteweaving yet, have I? It’s the main way that I get objects into this world. Like a true animator, I start with a skeleton—-usually a wireframe-—and fill the solid areas in between. I used to be really slow with making it look good, but with practice I’ve managed to make them relatively flawless within a span of a second. Two-dimensional sprites are possible too, but being two dimensional in a three-dimensional plane, they act... Unusually. I won’t get into that. Spriteweaving is a skill, not an actual object, but I’m sure Pix has some spriteweaving machine thing somewhere.

Rose and Sunflower accelerate the growth of another set of branches. Sure enough, the branches move between the wires, wrapping themselves around the metal rods. Within a minute, the sprout had twisted itself into a bushy, green wreath.

“Well done, Aidan,” Rose says, inspecting the circle of vegetation.

“Thank you!” Sunflower says cheerfully. “But you have better things to do than just make these for us, don’t you?”

“Well, I won’t need to stick around,” I point to the wreath. “Just reuse that one. Pull it out.”

Rose experimentally tugs at an expensed section of metal. The whole frame phases through the branches, appearing almost glitched. When the two are totally separated, the ring solidifies again.

Rose inspects the metal ring as she did the wreath. “You... You never fail to impress, Recreator.” She hands the frame to Sunflower, who also tries to figure it out. “Including with that dragoness a few weeks ago.”

Sunflower looks up. “Dragoness? As in, female dragon?”

I laugh nervously. “Yeah, that. Don’t worry, it was temporary. I’m still a guy 100%.” I turn to leave, raising my hand in farewell. “Anyway, I should go back to Peashooter now. I don’t think this is the only thing he needs my help with.”

“Thanks again!” Sunflower calls.

I leave the greenhouse and walk through the expansive halls of the castle, trying to find my way back to the throne room and the portal. As I walk, I get the same feeling that I did in the warehouse: I’m being watched... And followed. I sense the aura again—-Same reading. I get a vague conviction of my stalker. For once, I hope I’m wrong. If it’s this Breaker...

I was right. Peashooter did need more help. I did the same things that I’d done at the Zombies’ base: ornaments, tinsel, the usual. I even met the new plant. (That Holly Barrier fellow is rather odd, but he’s not the most unusual Plant I’ve met.) Nothing else worth noting happens until I leave.

I help Tile Turnip hang the wreaths I’d contributed to earlier. When we’re done, I tell Peashooter that I need to go.

“Thanks so much,” He says. “I know there are other things you should be doing, but I’m glad that you found the time to help us. Really, we wouldn’t be able to get things completed this early without you.”

“It’s my pleasure,” I laugh. “If you would excuse me, now I need to head off to-“

“Wait! Don’t tell me!” Tile Turnip interrupts, excited. “Uh.... Town of Salem!” he guesses.

“No.”

“The Tower!”

“No.”

“Kanto!”

“No.”

“Uh... The Nexus?”

“Closer.”

“Braxis?”

“Wrong universe.”

“Earth?”

“Fantasy.”

“Sanctuary?”

“No, no...” I shake my head. “I mean, there’s only one left, so...”

“Oh, Azeroth!” Turnip says finally.

“There we go,” I say. “You’re still sharp, Turnip. Keep it up.” I decide not to tell him about how hellish decorating the whole of the World of Warcraft would be.

He beams as I pull my Hearthstone out of my pocket. I start the recall process and wave goodbye. “Have a happy Feastivus, okay guys? See you!”

“Bye!” Peashooter says. That’s the last thing I heard before I got pulled away.

I was supposed to warp into Azeroth, but someone had other plans. I really hate these Breakers, especially when my schedule is tight like this.

I should probably explain the concept of Breakers, but it’s pretty self-explanatory. Breakers are self-aware characters, derived from “breaking the fourth wall.” As a gamer, they’re usually really fun. As a Receator, they’re a nuisance at best and a massive threat at worst. Notable examples include Deadpool and... Well...

I land in a high school classroom, staring at a whiteboard. There is silence behind me, but someone is there. The aura reading is the same as the last two times. Female, about my age... I really hope this isn’t what I think it is.

“You haven’t spent any time with me yet,” the girl behind me says. Well, so much for being wrong.

“Monika,” I say without turning around. “You’ve been watching me all day today. Surely you understand how pressed for time I am?”

“I do, but I’d like to ask you something,” she says. “Why do you spend so much time in places that aren’t real, helping people who aren’t real, instead of spending time with real people?”

I’m not sure what the implication of “real people” is. Honestly though, philosophical talk is better than the obsessive fawning that I’d expected.

I turn around. Sure enough, she stands there, too perfect because of her home world’s art style.

“Reality is relative when you’re one of us, Monika. What is real in this world does not determine the reality of other worlds." I shrug. "Also, it’s Christmas. My position in my home world doesn’t give me much ability to help others. But in the Multiverse? I can basically do whatever I want.”

She sits in a desk and puts her chin on her hands; a pose I’d seen from numerous sources before. “But I know that my world isn’t real. I can manipulate things to my will. I myself can be manipulated. And I know that this isn’t even my true story. I am not real. I’m just an image on a computer screen in a game made to be played by your people.”

I start pacing. I’ve met a lot of Breakers before, but none of them have been this questioning of existence. “That’s the key. You are a game-—but to my people. For all I know, I am a game to your people. Do you see where I’m going with this? To me, you’re a fictional character in a fictional game. To you, I am an outsider, an anomaly in this world. To me, your friends-—Natsuki, Yuri, Sayori—-are just characters who appear alongside you. To you, they are real, even if you are able to see their ‘files’ and ‘delete’ them. Ultimately, my reality and your reality are different.”

I stop pacing long enough to glance at her. Monika is deep in thought.

It always surprises me how independent fictional residents are when you meet them face to face. In a game, they’re bound by their code. They can’t do anything that developers don’t allow them to do, and they don’t appear as multi-faceted as they really are. This is especially true of Breakers. Being self-aware, most of them tend to flaunt their knowledge and power, leading them to seem strictly one-sided. In most cases, this self-awareness actually makes Breakers rounder, character-wise, than their unaware acquaintances.

“So I shouldn’t talk to them, then?” She says finally. “I should just... Tell them how to delete me so they can move on? Because I’m not real to them?”

“What? No, no,” I say hurriedly. “Your conversations are, in my opinion, some of the most interesting bits of dialogue in the... game.”

I really try to avoid using that term, especially in front of Breakers. Their reality, knowing that they are nothing but a game to a large group of people... It’s a touchy subject, even for them. But from what I’ve seen, Monika is one of the few who have come to terms with it.

“And giving the solution ruins the puzzle, so to speak. So, instead of changing your actions, change your motive,” I suggest. “Talk to them not because you are fiction, talk to them because they are real-—like you are. Does that make sense?” She nods vaguely. “I know it’s really not that clear, but this is a half full/half empty thing.”

“Yes... Yes, I think I understand,” Monika says quietly. “Thank you.”

I pull the Hearthstone out of my pocket again to leave. “You’re welcome, Monika,” I say. I stop short. “Actually, where is everyone else?”

“They’ve gone home. Well, except for...” she falls silent. “Aidan... Can you do me one last favor?”

“You deleted Sayori already, didn’t you?” I say. Now that I write it, sounds like an accusation. It wasn’t meant to be an accusation, but it explains why she became so defensive suddenly.

“I didn’t mean to!” Monika exclaims. “I was just trying out my... Power!”

“No one said it was intentional, don’t sweat it. If you want me to bring her back, I will.”

“Yes, please.”

“Okay, I’ll do it. No need to give me those puppy eyes.” I put the stone back into my pocket. “Take me to her house.”

Now, I won’t really go into detail, but as Recreators Nadia and I have this ability to... Reset parts of of the whole world. For Nadia, it’s the equivalent of starting a book over from the beginning. For me, it’s the equivalent of deleting and starting a new save file. And in this world, that’s quite literal, considering that file management is part of both its gameplay and plot.

Long story short, I tinkered with the world’s code—-literally-—and managed to recover and reintegrate Sayori’s original .chr file (a format that was created specifically for this game, in case you didn’t know), with a little help from Monika. If you don’t know what happened to Sayori... Well, a quick Google search should do the trick. Just know that it’s not very... Soothing.

With Sayori back in the game—in more ways than one—and the other characters’ memories reformatted, I tell Monika that I really have to go.

“Thank you so much,” she says, watching the newly reintegrated Sayori’s shadow move around her bedroom window. “I didn’t intend this to go on for so long. I just wanted to ask you a few things.”

I wave off the apology. “What’s done is done. I won’t get that time back, but if I can help someone, it’s not wasted. Besides, it's Christmas. I can spare a little time.” I take the Hearthstone out of my pocket for the third time today. “Now, I really must be going.”

Monika says goodbye and walks to Sayori’s door as I start the warp. “Don’t forget to visit.”

I laugh. “We’ll see. But until then, Merry Christmas.”

She smiles sadly as the doorknob turns. “Merry Christmas… For you.”

That’s right... Doki Doki is a static game. It, and by extension, it’s denizens, are unable to celebrate holidays. It’s the same thing, over and over again, monotonously. The others won’t care because hey don’t know what they’re missing. But Monika... She knows. She knows what she’s missing. It really is a shame... But there’s nothing much I can do about it. Or, actually... Well, it's too late for that. Maybe next time.

The next time I open my eyes, I’m sprawled on the floor in front of a throne in a stone castle. Blue and gold war banners emblazoned with a lion decorate the room. Azeroth at last.

“You’re late, Aidan,” the surprised king says. “Although I’m glad that you appear rushed in getting here.”

I hurriedly regain my composure and sit up in a respectful kneel. “Lord Anduin, I apologize. I encountered a… Forced detour, if you will.”

Anduin is skeptical, but nods in partial understanding. “Make your way to Gilneas, then. Greymane has requested your help first.”

I’ll cut it there. If I told you what I had to do, we’d be here until Half-Life 3’s release, and that’s just the Alliance’s half of the world. Okay, maybe not that long, but you get the point. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know how I’m doing. And also greet you for the holidays. So… Happy Holidays! Remember to keep the season in mind: if there’s ever a time to be nice to your enemies, it’s this time of year. If there’s ever a time to consider those who remain unconsidered, it’s this time of year. I do both, as you may have noticed just now. Although perhaps I do too much of it...

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to buy Nadia a gift. And… Everyone else a gift too, now that I think about it. Dammit. Maybe I’ll go ask Treasure Knight for a loan and go shopping in the Caldeum Bazaar... Anyway, that’s my problem, not yours.

Happy Feast of Winter Veil! Er, I mean, Happy Holidays!

Sincerely,

Aidan D---