Disclaimer: I don't own the franchise (is that the right way to refer to it?) of Dynasty Warriors.. Though this being a disclaimer I was hardly going to say I owned it, was I. xD ..I guess I'd better say I don't own Kessen as well, just to be safe.
A/N (Please read, details spoilers ahead): This is a little silly really, but I wanted to write it anyway and get it up before the latest game comes out. Set just before DW7, it only has spoilers about Ma Dai and what his weapon will be (and one spoilery reference to something he will/should end up doing in the game, come to think about it, so be warned). Anyway, if you don't mind about the spoilers read on (might as well, you've made it this far :P)~
It's Magic, if That Helps
The battlefield was Hell incarnate. Nothing but grounds for slaughter; a hopeless place where odds merely emphasised your doom; constant fight and fight and fight and die and die and die. Inhuman creatures swathed through the ranks; man upon man mown down as if they were but leaves of grass. Murder and toy soldiers and the terrible cries of your comrades faces frozen corpse after corpse after corpse..
Hell. Ma Dai was in Hell. A numbing oblivion, and he was trapped in it.
The worst thing had to be the screaming. Dear God, the screaming. Death cry after death cry after death cry..
Always the same!
Forget the death toll – millions of nameless peons expiring to disappear immediately afterwards; did they exist, or even die at all? Forget the battlefield (it didn't take long to memorise all the maps anyway). It was the way they 'died'. The same sounds for all of them; changing but always matching and millions upon millions it did his head in.
Funny.
He wasn't much better. Same face, same generic lines he had to spout out like the rest of his group. Same weapon same hair touching his face he was someone else or perhaps they were all him and he watched his own features each day with various tags attached to them?
Ma Dai. He clung to that name, sometimes pestered the anonymous soldiers around him for hours on end what does the name above my head say what does the name above my head say what does the name above me say. Again and again and again because those (..combination of) floating characters belonged entirely to him. All his own.
...He wasn't sure he went and did that, actually. But, whatever.
He'd say he'd go back to the point of all this – if there was one.
That was the point.
…
Ugh. This place.. Dynasty Warriors. Whatever you wanted to call it. It had ruined everyone's lives, and a great deal of their deaths too! Not a single person was left unmarked from their time here.
And to what end..? He certainly didn't know.
No one else knew.
..Could anyone be bothered to care anymore?
..But don't mind him. This was routine. Wandering off after his 'job' (look like you're meant to be there when anyone important is looking, recite your lines, cry for help occasionally if you're hacked at too much when you sink back into daydreaming). Figurative blood on his hands, passing by the scenery that vaguely carried the whiff of cheese. Putting his generic little sword/spear (what was it again?) down wherever and then.. pondering. About nothing and no one – everything and everyone.
He did so like to ponder. At least.. he seemed to be in the contemplative sort of mood these days. Truthfully, he wasn't sure exactly what he liked any more.
The fate of a generic.
Perhaps he was lucky enough to remember his own name, but Ma Dai suffered like the rest of his fellow unfortunates.
(His personality – identity slipped down an even deeper hole. Who, and what was he again?)
Ma Dai – and Ma Chao and Pang De. Remnants of the good old days. ..They had been friends, once upon a time. Until they had been two of the really lucky ones – suddenly all 'unique' and 'sparkly' and drafted in for more than a bit part in this sick, monotonous game. Whispers in the night, and then they'd left for pastures new..
They had promised to visit. To keep it up.
To remain friends.
Yes.. and he had seen cousin much later; properly had the chance to talk but had instead had to listen to an over-the-top man, glorious and yet a shadow of his former self. He wondered if Mengqi had even realised he was talking to his own cousin and not... another identical face.
He wondered if his cousin had cared.
And Pang De... Hah. A recent conversion, but he'd never been the same since.
Wherever he'd been lately. ..There were rumours Dian Wei had got to him; some dispute about the halberds the latter had been denied for so long. (Zhang Liao, the filthy looter, was probably not much longer for this world.) Oh well. ..It was probably a mercy.
A mercy.
..A mercy. Wouldn't that be the day?
To be able to say his own lines... Be his own man... Keep company; laugh and live and enjoy life and die with his own distinct voice in a world full of exclusivity.
He wanted to be unique. Uniqueness – every 'nonentity's dream, if it did not depress them too much to consider it.
Argh-
"Excuse me?"
Blinkblink. That voice – he... hadn't heard it before. But wait. She was probably just addressing someone else. Someone unique – though if somebody else like that was around it was surprising there wasn't more of a commotion..
Nope. She wasn't speaking to him directly, but..
She was saying his name.
"Ma Dai? Is there anyone called Ma Dai around here?"
Amazing... There was someone looking for him! Actually searching specifically for hi
Shut up. You never learn, do you? As a generic never ever get your hopes up.
"Ma Dai.. That's me." He called out, deciding to answer the woman anyway. On the off chance.
"Ah!" Spotting the familiar face – a little more jaded-looking than you'd usually get – of the man perched on the nearby rock, the woman approached the self-proclaimed Ma Dai. On the latter's part he couldn't stop staring at her – incredulity and wonder but nothing lecherous because all he noticed was how delightfully different she was. Different. Different different different.
Unique.
..And likely saner than he was right now. Sigh.
He bet those stuck in somewhere like Kessen had an easier life than this.
"Just the person I was looking for." She said brightly, with a professional tone that said 'I mean business'. Formality (mixed in with self-importance) dripped off her, from the clothes to her bearing.
Ma Dai kept staring, the wonder almost completely being replaced by dark, heavy reality. Life was cold. Life was not fair. Hope was such a fleeting thing.
Who are you lady, and what do you want.
(She might as well hurry up and disappoint him quickly.)
The woman seemed a little ruffled by the underwhelming response – it had to be out of egotism rather than surprise, surely.
"Listen, lady. I am a faceless tool where my whole mockery of a life is pandering to the monotonous sadism that calls itself Dynasty Warriors. The dredges of my sense of self mean that I have three set and overly rotated moods and conversations with my peers get very tiring very quickly. In fact, you might have heard all I've said dozens of times before but I have no identity beyond a name, no escape and no prospects so do forgive me if I seem a little unenthusiastic, alright."
It was the sort of speech which didn't make you feel better at all, Ma Dai thought miserably as his expression returned to 'dull, and near-catatonic'. Just echoed in the hollowness inside.
"..I understand," was her reply – about as genuine as his generic compliments felt these days. "But perhaps it can be different for you. I am a representative of the company behind Dynasty Warriors 7."
Ah yes, Dynasty Warriors 7. Talk of it had begun to float around but Ma Dai tended to ignore such words until the changes were actually implemented. And another friend disappeared.
"I'm recruiting for the upgraded roster, and you happen to be on the list. So, Ma Dai.. Would you like the chance to be a part of Shu proper?"
A beat, as the honey started to sink in.
Wait..
"Lady," Ma Dai reached out, gripped like clinging to a lifeline before the storm of the realisation. What she was saying.. what she was saying.. What she was saying-! "Are you seriously suggesting what I think you're suggesting..?"
A nod.
"I get my own lines?"
A nod.
"I get my own clothes?"
A nod.
"I get my own.." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Face..? Voice..? Personality back?"
A nod. A nod. A... nod!
…
Dear God.
As that dawned on the man, his complexion ashen heartbeat pounding the hope the hope the hope- The woman pushed off the shaking hold on her collar, one of her hands going to her pockets.
With the other she clicked her fingers.
"Your new face." She smiled, and produced a mirror.
Ma Dai's expression as he gazed into it resembled one seeing something incredibly exalted – and it was the truth. The awe that spilled into his features was only because of them – new, exciting..
It was his face, finally.. his.
Such an indescribably marvellous feeling that was!
He didn't know when his legs had given out on him; when the weight of everything had pushed him down to the ground but the 'representative' was helping him up gently, then she stepped back.
"Now.. some things are still being finalised and will take a while to settle in; like your personality and voice. Here's a brief description to help you adjust. And there's also the contract here – you need to sign it to formalise the procedure." The two papers were handed over alongside a writing implement.
Ma Dai read them; drank the words in that were so strangely soothing to his soul.
Yes.
Yes. Yes! He was beginning to remember; knowledge that he'd forgotten to crave already filtering in. Sunlight, after beyond an age, filtering through his cracked heart- But wait.
Wait.
Hold up. What was this? Should he just go barrelling through with it like this? Look what had happened to Ma Chao. What had happened to Pang De. Everyone else too – Zhang Fei and his lost daughter, Wei Yan barely able to string a word together, Zhang He no longer laughing at the joke, Xu Chu unrecognisable after the exaggeration (and name change). Even Zhuge Liang had become more subdued.
..Being recognised was not the most wonderful 'mercy'.
Nevertheless.. He couldn't bring himself to care. He would be getting a better deal! Taken more seriously! Acknowledged.
Recognition – wasn't that every generic soldier's dream? To be recognised, and to be unique.
Wasn't that what was being offered to Ma Dai now? He should be (figuratively) biting this woman's hand off. He should be thanking his luck for getting what millions of peons would murder him to achieve.
Yes. He had to be... 'Cheerful'. He was supposed to be a cheerful man, according to this description. So no more moping.. No more suspicion!
Ma Dai signed the contract.
Cousin, perhaps we can at last be able to talk as equals again.
He handed the paper over to the woman and returned the smile she gave him. Cheerful. Cheerful cheerful cheerful.
He could feel himself becoming a new man already.
"Glad that's sorted. See you soon, Ma Dai!" The 'representative' bade farewell, turning and walking away.
"Bye!" Ma Dai said merrily, in much higher spirits than he'd been in a long time. Only amazing possibilities awaited him, after all – he could effortlessly cut through the peons, be praised generically, the centre of attention. He could take his glorious (or gloriously angsty) moment and cut down Wei Yan (who'd never taken him seriously before – now it was payback time).
Hell yes! Bring on Dynasty Warriors 7! I need to find a mirror again..
He looked happily down at the piece of paper bearing his description, and.. Oh..
"My lady!" Ma Dai called out, hoping she hadn't gotten too far away. The 'representative' paused.
"Yes, Ma Dai?"
"You forgot to take this." The brush was held up, and he twirled it in his hand.
"Oh no, please keep it."
A frown formed on his shiny new face. "No, I couldn't possibly-"
"It is the weapon you'll be using, after all."
…
My weapon...?
Wait.
What.
A/N: There you have it! I didn't think this was going to be my first DW fic - the idea kinda popped up out of nowhere - but yeah. xD Just a few notes to make: Dian Wei historically wielded dual halberds I believe, like Pang De did in DW5 (and Zhang Liao did in DW6 - if I'm wrong about that it's still true in this fic, mwahaha). Zhang Fei had two daughters historically, Xu Zhu (or Xu Chu) wasn't as dumb historically, I don't think Wei Yan spoke like that historically and yes, this fic makes a few references to history doesn't it. xD; The description of Ma Dai is based off what is on the DW7 European site, and Mengqi is Ma Chao's style name. ...I think I listed everything there, lol, but don't forget this is just a gentle poking fun at DW and not at all meant to be taken seriously. :) Thank you for reading, anyway!