Work Text:
[Are you ready?]
The puppet hangs limp against the wall, shackled to a nothingness that isn’t there, bound to a place of nonexistence, of lack without rest. The mouth is stationary, unmoving as cobwebs, but it replies lowly.
🕸 I’m assured we would be doing this, even if I were not.
[Do you hear them? They are antsy for your entrance.]
🕸 Insisting that I’ll be arriving late was blatancy on your part. Required, nonetheless, I’m sure. It will not be suspicious to anyone who matters for this to succeed.
The puppet cannot shift, nor scuttle. There is nothing here. Nothing for it to do, nor prepare no more. The plan is complete, now only is the execution. Backstage, waiting until the perfect cue.
[I’m nervous. Are you? Are you excited to finally introduce yourself?]
🕸 It is what will happen.
A single [REDACTED] on its head twitches, relaxing into the swing of the strings.
[You’re at least a biiit excited, aren’t you~?]
🕸 Well. You understand me best. I confess it will be a relief to no longer maintain anonymity, and the surprise will certainly be delicious.
[Make sure you do this right, then. I’ve been waiting a long time for this.]
🕸 As have I. As aforementioned, you know me best. I will not waver, I am excellent in my work after all.
Its head rises a little, indignation at the implication of failure rising in its chest.
[Haha, of course. You wear yourself well.]
[...]
A moment of silence.
[Did you like them, in the end?]
🕸 They were but a mission to me. There is nothing to enjoy. At least now I can be rid of all those burner accounts.
It does muse, however, that [//////] had quite some fun with [///] account, perhaps it should teach [///] more modern technology. [///] could be [REDACTED] yet.
Its heart does not twinge, but beats softly twice.
[It was years though. Surely there is some hesitation in you?]
🕸 I’ve run longer cons before. It is easiest to detach myself when they don’t even know my name.
🕸 …
There is a moment of silence.
🕸 Still, I cannot deny truths from you. It will pain me a little. A routine change, yet still a loss in some way. I might miss the feeling of playing video games, as vile and crude as their habits tended to be. And it will be an adjustment again, performing without adjustment for ensuring the plan succeeds. I never did quite crack Sam in the end.
[Do you resent me for this?]
It chuckles lowly.
🕸 Hah. I resent you for far less. But I don’t care any more for these morons than I might a fly. There will be nothing to stop me from still being friends with them but guilt, and I doubt I’d care for any even if Malik pulls it off. It will be a wound, but a small one that fades in less than a day.
There is a moment of contemplation.
Then, in a moment of daring, the puppet speaks first.
🕸 Are you afraid? Or are your doubts in me a warning? I stand by my words, if the plan changes I must know beforehand.
[Afraid?]
[...]
There is a moment of hiding.
[That doesn’t concern you. Stick to your role, the script is always uncertain but I feel things will go to plan as expected. Hubris is so predictable after all.]
🕸 Do you not wish it to?
[Your cue is on now. Be prepared.]
🕸 Very well. You will upkeep your end of our promise, yes?
[Make your wish yourself. Play your part well, and I’ll ensure you get the chance to ask him.]
🕸 Understood.
The puppet begins to jolt into place, limbs and mouths and legs shrivelling and warping until its face is deformed into one of a human’s once again.
The curtain rises, and there is a door.
There is a deep breath, an anticipation on part of a being higher than this, and a crowd of voices.
🕸 —
[A voice calls from behind you, as a new person arrives at the Arcade.]