A/N: This is my first time posting my writing and it is unbetaed, so please be gentle. Don't hesitate to mention any mistakes or things I could do to improve, though, as I am writing this to improve. Enjoy!
Chapter 1: "Introduction"
Zacharie sat with disinterest in the smoke mines of Zone 1. How the Elsen ever managed to stay down here all day for multiple days at a time would always baffle him. He had only been here for perhaps an hour and he already wanted out, and he was practically crawling up the walls.
But he had no choice but to remain here. After all, if he broke the game's script he'd be chewed out by Pablo once more, and that wasn't something he wanted. So he stayed put, waiting for the Puppeteer to arrive with their pathetic little dancing monkey. He was fairly certain The Batter didn't remember any of their past encounters, or at least not like Zacharie himself did. That was to be expected, though. If the puppet knew what would happen the whole time, the Puppeteer would lose interest in playing. Still, the merchant thought it to be rather cruel. How was he supposed to form bonds with someone other than Pablo if everyone else forgot everything once the game was started anew by another Puppeteer?
He was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard the sound of the spectres shrieking, followed by the loud crack of a bat. Finally, The Batter had certainly kept him waiting. He smirked as he heard footsteps slowly thumping closer to him. The Batter stepped into the room, thick black blood splattered across his ridiculous baseball uniform and bat. Zacharie could tell the Puppeteer was eyeing both himself and the yellow save block floating to the left of him. He briefly wondered if they would even interact with him before logging off, but Batter's approaching figure answered that question for him.
"The characters are starting to pile up, aren't they?" Zacharie questioned with his usual chuckle, relishing in the puzzled expression he received from Batter.
"Pardon?" he asked, his tone still mostly monotonous but still displaying the confusion he felt.
"What I'm saying is that the average player doesn't need all these complicated and tedious dialogues," he elaborated, his smirk only growing when the Batter narrowed his eyes at him. "There should be more action and fewer questions."
"Who are you?" It was a simple question, but the answer was anything but simple. Since there were about a million different answers he could give, all based on which play through of the game someone questioned about. While the story remained the same, the interactions between the characters while the Puppeteer was off did not.
Still, he couldn't say what he wanted to say, only what the game would allow him to with its script. "I'm Zacharie, the traditional items merchant that's necessary in every video game." He did a cheesy bow as he introduced himself, loving how confused the Puppeteer was by the fact that he was self-aware. Oh, they'll have quite the ride with this game if they're so easily put off. "I'll always find myself in places you're going to visit before you arrive. But enough blether. I'm not one of those protagonists you need to listen to for hours." He shrugged his bag off his shoulders. "So, lemme see the color of your credits."
The Puppeteer simply sat there for a moment, maybe wondering what the use of the credits were since it hadn't been explained. They'd just started getting them after each battle. When the Puppeteer finally hit the enter key, allowing him to continue with his dialogue, he opened his bag, displaying the contents both to the Batter and the Puppeteer. "Need anything in particular?" The Puppeteer bought nothing out of the ordinary, a few Luck Tickets, some defensive and offensive equipment for the Batter and his Add-On. Once they were finished, they tugged the Batter over to the aforementioned save block while Zacharie thumbed through his newly acquired credits, counting up the amount to make sure it matched. Not that there was any reason it wouldn't. He looked up when he heard the telltale snap of the strings cutting. The Puppeteer had logged off and Batter was free. Zacharie looked over to him, watching as he examined his surroundings as if he were seeing them for the first time. Eventually their eyes met, though Zacharie's were kept hidden by the emotionless toad mask he always wore. The Batter approached him, the earlier confusion now replaced with curiosity.
"You're strange, merchant." The words were simple enough, and the tone with which he said them remained as blank and dull as ever. But they still caused Zacharie to chuckle.
"Ah, so I've been told." The reply is easy, much more friendly and playful than the other's statement had been. Not that that was anything unusual for either one of them. Batter was always emotionless and blunt, at times eerily so, and Zacharie could be considered his complete opposite in that respect. For someone who was never seen without his mask on, Zacharie was fairly open.
"What's with the mask?" Zacharie tensed only slightly at the question. He knew it'd been coming, but he hadn't expected it quite so soon. He thought about the best way to answer and eventually just laughed it off.
"Maybe later, Monsieur Batter! After all, answering that would eliminate my air of mystery!" he said with a casual flick of the wrist. He saw the Batter roll his eyes and smirked under his mask.
"Whatever you say," he murmured, turning back to the mine entrance he'd just walked out of. He couldn't go to any new places unless the Puppeteer was with him, so Zacharie assumed that he wasn't going back to fight more spectres to kill time.
"Oh, dear Batter?" Zacharie called out to him, a hand holding onto his mask to adjust it. It was a habit he'd developed ever since he first started wearing it, and he'd seen no point in breaking it. "Do be careful out there. It'd be a shame to lose our 'holy savior.'" He said the last two words with a mocking tone, sarcasm laced in them. Batter scoffed somewhat, but kept walking, barely sparing him a glance.
Well, this would either be extremely fun or extremely boring. And he hoped it would be the former, as he wasn't one to let things go boring. And he'd rather not have to personally spice things up.