video | un: NOMERCY - backdated to July 25th

[the_obedient_servant]

CW FOR MASS MURDER OF UNARMED CIVILIANS, RELIGIOUS FANATICISM, THEMES OF NIHILISM AND UNREALITY, GASLIGHTING, "MERCY KILLING", THREATENED HARM TO CHILDREN, CHARA IN GENERAL, MOTHER MERCY IN GENERAL



[The video starts from a low point, broadcasting only Chara's feet. They have their omen doing the recording, after-all. Or did he decide to do it himself, because he thought the world needed to see this? Regardless, all that's currently seen is a collection of corpses on the ground.

There's two sets of shoes, nearly identical in size, though one is perhaps a bit bigger. One of the few living bodies (* 4 Left) slumps to the ground as the smaller of the pair sinks a knife into his chest. Trenchies. The kind that die permanently.

The video cuts then, to Chara sitting alone on the stump of what used to be a statue of Mother Mercy, better known to the inhabitants of the dream that came before as Mother Superior. Splattered on the walls in many different kinds of blood are the words NO MERCY.

They clear their throat, their face chalky and their eyes a dull lifeless black.]

Greetings. I am Chara. [Their voice perfectly polite, their smile perfectly pleasant.] I am here to show you something. No doubt, a lot of you are already familiar with my work. Oscar Pine, Ezra Bridger, the "Clockhouse" as I believe it was called, Professor Ozpin... Others were killed under my direction, of course, and I take responsibility for all of them. If you want revenge, I'm here to receive you. In the last day or so I have killed approximately forty eight of the inhabiting NPCs in this world. Trenchies, as I believe they're called.

[They fish out a bag sitting next to them, concealed by their clothing. They unfasten it and pour them out into the palm of their hand. Small silver crystals of light, and a fair few of them too, at least ten, maybe fifteen.]

Moon Drops. I think the Reckoning likes me. If you needed proof that the rulers of this world do not care for the people within it, let this be it. I will not be punished for my crimes. Everything I have done has been according to the Reckoning's wishes. Everything I have done has been, in some way, in the name of justice. The most broken motivation of all.

I am here to prove Mother Superior a fraud. I am here, to make it known that any attempts made to revere her by the local inhabitants will be met with death. I am here, to preach the opposite of her pretentious self-serving drivel.

There will be no mercy for this world, or those responsible for creating it. Not from her. Not from anyone else. I reject her forgiveness, because I will never allow myself to be forgiven by someone so weak and pitiful. Others have preached this - no mercy - without truly knowing the meaning. No mercy is the relentless pursuit of power. No mercy is the destruction of civilizations. No mercy is the complete and total annihilation of your enemy. No mercy is embracing the path you were always meant to walk, no matter how high the ocean of blood may grow.

You do not understand what it is to live without mercy. So I am going to show you.

And now. I am going to demonstrate the broken mercy of this false patron. Don't worry. I'm not under the impression that any of you believed in it to begin with. This is for the NPCs of Trench to see. [They smile, and the black inky substance of their eyes begins to drip down like tears, like their face is melting. And they reach into their bag and pull one of the moon drops out.

They hold it against their chest, letting it fill them with it's warmth, and the black in their eyes fades, leaving only a normal human child with a dull stone. Other things seem to fade along with it as the video (and reality) flickers. The harsh emptiness in their eyes is gone, replaced only with a wide-eyed fear and horror. Their mouth twitches into a shocked laugh.]

...You'll even use yourself, won't you? [They wipe the ink off their face with their sleeve.] We're so fucked up.

[There's another cut. And in the next video, Chara is not alone. Standing before them, looming over their tiny stature, is a pale woman in a dark veil. A mourning widow, looking down at this child, lost and pitiful. They look up at her, their eyes filled with anxiety, determination, and to some extent the loathing remains just as strong.

The woman places a land on the child's head. Standing here amid a hall dedicated to faith in her cause, faith in her kindness. Standing amid the corpses of those who died for no reason other than a bad choice in gods, she speaks, quietly, but loud enough for the omen to pick up, at least a little.]

...Forgiven.

[And in just a moment, she turns to the bodies. To a group that aren't quite dead yet, but rather tied up and bound in their injuries, kept alive by Chara's blood magic. They could be saved, if taken to the ministers. They might even want to be saved, unlike Chara.

But the woman approaches them, and kills them in an instant, kneeling down to mourn their loss. She weeps over their corpses, before disappearing in black smoke, leaving only the dead people and the ghost of a child that sits atop her statue of vanity like it's a broken throne.

It leaves Chara the last in this room alive, baffled, shocked. For all of a moment until their mouth twists into a vicious smile, and they begin to laugh, and laugh, and laugh. It's difficult to tell if they're back to the way they were. Or if any forgiveness or LOVE lost won't change the fact that this is who they are.

The video feed cuts for the last time.]

Comments

[terriblepurpose]

[There's a period of quiet, followed by a husked, half-believing:]

I caught that.

[He lets the wave come, in and out. He goes on evenly.]

What is the demonstration for? And don't tell me it's for the benefit of the people you're killing, after all that talk about there being no mercy. What is it for you?

[the_obedient_servant]

Does anyone actually care about the Trenchies? Of course it's not mercy for them, though I suppose you could debate whether their lives are worth living in this cycle of hell.

[On the other end, their voice drops an octave or two, almost sad in a bitter hateful way.]

Avenging a wrong committed millennia ago, and saving us all.

This? This is all just the beginning.

[terriblepurpose]

[Paul cares, but the hypocrisy of saying so when Chara watched him slit one of their throats would choke him, and he's sure would provoke Chara to fits of hysterical mockery. He constrains himself to:]

People care about them. You're seeing it yourself.

[In the furious barrage of answers to this demonstration, in the threats he's certain are being levelled as they speak. How performative any of it is, he can't say. but it's real enough to trigger action in the world, which is as real as anything.]

At least enough to take their own vengeance. [He sounds tired, a limn of sadness to his own voice.] How is this saving us? I want to understand. Please.

[the_obedient_servant]

They don't, though. They care about Ezra, and Oscar, and Ozpin, and probably even that Faith woman that throttled you. And more than that, they're eager for their own chance at revenge, or at having the moral high ground.

Perhaps Ezra cared. He's the only one who tried to get in my way for a reason that wasn't a personal grudge.

[They think Ezra believes his lofty moral values at any rate.

They're sure even he could be pushed to break them, to turn on them. The people of this world are disposable. The Pthumerians see it that way, and ultimately the Sleepers can't help but think the same, can they? They can revert to an earlier save file when they die, they have the sponsorship of the gods of this world, something that the inhabitants could only dream of.]

This is the first step. I can't share the rest of my plan. You'll only get in my way.

But, I will say, I can't do it alone. You have a role to play as well, and I know that you will play it well. You've never disappointed me thus far.

[There's something almost... sad, to their tone as they speak on this. When they say that Paul has a role to play, like he's a chess piece in their personal game, it's not with the possessive tone of a spoiled child expecting a toy to follow their directions, but almost mournful, like a goodbye.

Their friendship was built off a lie. They're aware of that. They were conscious of it every time they spoke.

It still hurts that this is the inevitable end they will come to.]

[terriblepurpose]

[ It's like hearing his own voice echoed back from a well. Chara's analysis of local feeling towards the Trenchies is ruthlessly unsentimental, and there is no specific part of it that Paul can disagree with. He's attended to the locals in their miseries enough to know that many Sleepers overlook their neighbors at best, exploit and abuse them at their worst.

There is a power differential, and in the presence of a power differential, a hierarchy forms. However loosely built, or often transgressed, it's there.

He won't be able to pry more out of Chara than they want to give. Even if he did, they might reset themselves and him. He cannot appeal to reason or empathy or even practicality. He knows Chara too well and not at all enough simultaneously. It thwarts all strategy.

So he forgets strategy. ]

I suppose I'll see what it is, in time.

[ Or after the fact, when it's too late to stop what he may have already done. He closes his eyes and takes an anchoring breath. He listens, not to their words, but to their voice. He makes a decision he's made before, and regretted, with no hope of it being different this time. ]

I don't want anything to happen to you. [ Even now. Even like this. ] Anything else. I don't understand what you're doing, or what you think it will gain you, or anyone else, but-

I care about you. Remember that.

[the_obedient_servant]

[It continues to baffle Chara, the capacity for this bizarre sentimentality in humans and monsters alike. When Sans declared that he wondered if there was something within them that used to be a friend, someone capable of coming back from the sin staining their hands and becoming the person he once believed in - it was a joke. A lie to trap them into a false sense of security.

But even as they were killing their family, even as they were bringing about the end of the world, again and again there were people trying to reach them. Sans was just the one smart enough not to try. Nobody recognized them, of course, as the child that they once held up as their savior and their hope, who doomed them to an eternity of anger and grief upon their death.

Paul remembers and that much is clear. And yet... "I don't want anything to happen to you." and even "I care about you."

There's only one response to that baffling set of statements.]

Why?

[terriblepurpose]

[ Why?

He's asked himself that about Chara even before memory returned, and gave the question sharp new pertinence. Can he say it's for fondness, for friendship, after that? After everything Chara has done and shown themselves to be, could he say it was for their protection? Knowing what he's glimpsed at the edges of their too-piercing eyes, can he even say he cares about them as a child?

Why? ]

Because I want to.

[ As simple, as irrefutable, as that. He lets his head fall back against a wall, a faintly audible thump. ]

And because you asked what I was, and I told you, and you didn't look away, either.

But the first one, mostly.

[the_obedient_servant]

[It's defiant, in the way that he defies them. Defies their expectations (though they truly should have expected this), defies even common sense. It reminds them, in a way, of Frisk's stalwart refusal to leave their side, even as they burn all the bridges around them in an orchestra of fire and destruction.

There's a deep emptiness inside of them, darker than the void, with a thousands screaming voices begging to escape. Paul looks at them, looks at the Emperor, and sees himself. They know this about him now. In some ways, they saw themselves in Paul as well.

They don't respond, for a long stretch of time.]

You and I are not the same, are we? [It's a good thing. And yet, it's almost mournful. Words delivered to another they thought would never leave them. Except...] You're a stubborn fool.

[There's a small laugh, almost fond.]

Good. DETERMINATION will serve you well. Far better than it served me.

[terriblepurpose]

[ Paul has never been able to leave anything alone. The phrase cuts deeper than meddling. He hears the brush of empty isolation in Chara's voice, and he bleeds for it, even if they don't. Especially if they don't.

Someone should be sorry, he told another person once, who also transgressed and exceeded the categories of ally or enemy. Someone might as well be him, for all the peoppe who can't be. He's getting very good at it. ]

No one is exactly like anyone else.

And you're right. I am stubborn, and a fool.

[ He's proven both admirably. He need offer no further evidence than even this moment. ]

There's no way to go back. That doesn't mean there isn't a way to go forward.

Don't say anything about that. Just remember it. You can do that, can't you?

[the_obedient_servant]

All that I have ever done is go forward.

[Or at least, that's how they think of it. What is the slaughter of everything you care about but a way to live without it? To carry the dead with them forever?]

You think you're a demon, don't you? They even told you as much. You will be a demon, and a savior, and an emperor, and the angel that will deliver them. The Emperor molded you into thinking you were just like him, didn't he?

What is different between us, Paul Atreides, is that that is all in the future, yet to be fully written.

When I was growing up, they told me I would be the one to save the world, and redeem humanity for all it's sins. It was only after I died and saw how pitifully small and repetitive the universe really was that I realized the purpose of my existence was to finally put it all to an end.

And so I did. Billions of voices, silenced in an instant, and it was as easy as slashing the game with my knife.

[terriblepurpose]

[ Everything Chara says is true. Terrible truths, unbearable ones. They open Paul up and read him as a book, or as augury, and with exposure comes the hot gush of shame. He thinks of God's heart, pierced on a hundred points of a knife, and wishing desperately to be unseen.

He wants to be seen; he wants no one to see him. ]

If it was so easy, why can't you forget it?

[ The wrong answer to the wrong question. ]

If none of this matters - if you don't matter, and I don't, and all of it is pointless repetition - why do you repeat yourself, Chara?

Why do we all keep doing this? [ He breaks on that, composure in tatters. ] What do you think will change, doing the same thing, over and over - lifting the same knife, and bringing it down -

What's the point? Where does it take us? Where does it take you?