YaWH!
Chapter – The Start
ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN: It is dark. A deep, unrelenting darkness. Comfortable in it's nothingness. Welcome back, old friend. It's been a while, hasn't it? How is the wretched husk treating you?
YOU: Not a fan, honestly. Thought I was through this.
Actually, wait. What happened?
ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN: Funny, how it always comes back to a question? "What happened?" "What did I do?" "How much did I drink this time?"
YOU: I wasn't drinking. I stopped. I'm free.
LIMBIC SYSTEM: A comforting lie. The taste will never leave your mouth. It will always be at the tip of your tongue – a desire for that cold, bitter comfort when all else abandons you.
ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN: Again. And Again. The cycle never ends, baby!
YOU: Alright, but what happened? Why am I...here?
Wait...my God. It's finally happened.
I'm dying, aren't I?
MAGICIEN DE FLEURS: Well, I wouldn't necessarily call this particular kind of stupor death. Think of it more as a...dream.
ENCYCLOPEDIA(Challenging – Success): A medical study showcased that the border between dreaming and dying is thinner than a layman might expect. The comfort of this statement is paper thin, and cold.
MAGICIEN DE FLEURS: Mighty cynical. I'd ask you to lighten up, but then I suppose I shouldn't have expected any different.
RHETORIC(Trivial – Success): Wait. Something isn't right. He wouldn't think like that.
INLAND EMPIRE(Godly – Success): There are no flowers in your mind. Not anymore. All that were, withered long ago, and never bloomed or sprouted again. But the Tower, departed from this mortal coil, where flowers bloom in magnificent splendor? Maybe there we could borrow some?
CONCEPTUALIZATION(Legendary – Failure): Wait, I'm lost. What is happening?
LOGIC(Challenging – Success): That person—no—this thing does not belong here. It's not one of us.
YOU: Good catch!
Who are you? Why are you in my head?
MAGICIEN DE FLEURS: Oh, just an meddler who wanders in dreams. Don't mind me. You can go back to the dark if you want.
YOU: I'd rather not.
MAGICIEN DE FLEURS: Well then, you'd better awaken then! There's still much ahead of you. And I only hope you live up to my expectations.
YOU: Expectations? Of me? You're joking, right?
DRAMA(Challenging – Success): There is a glibness in his tone, a tinge that speaks of mischief and trickery. But underneath all that, tucked away and covered up, his hope in you. That is, without a doubt, sincere.
VOLITION(Medium – Success): He speaks of duty. One we don't know yet. But we will.
MAGICIEN DE FLEURS: Hah, what a curious man you are. But I fear our time is running out. Until we meet again!
YOU: Wait! What am I meant to do? Why me?
Circuits Magigues: It is fine. I am borderline worthless, and not of much use to you. I worry for our future, and that I cannot help when you need me. But nevertheless...I will be with you all the way.
Circuits Magigues: I still have faith in you.
Circuits Magigues(Challenging – Failure): There, through your body, what meager, unused connections there are, flare to life for but a moment. It is a burning, a crackle of lightning in your soul. But something feels wrong, if only for that fraction of a moment. It suddenly jolts you, the pain lancing through your bloated flesh! The darkness forcefully lifts.
Circuits Magigues: Wake up, Harry!
The man jolted as if shocked by a defibrillator, only without protection in place to numb the actual burning agony, however brief. His mouth moved as if to yelp—maybe scream—but only managed to make an sound akin to a snorting walrus. His spit left his sputtering lips in an inelegant, messy display.
A truly embarrassing way to wake up on the floor. At least he had clothes on this time.
As the man finally recalls that he needs to inhale to breathe correctly.
"Oh thank goodness..." a voice, feminine, young, speaks from a bit to the side. Through bleary eyes, the man manages to regain enough focus to see that he is on the floor in the middle of a pristine white, almost clinical hallway. And that he is, indeed, not alone.
Beside him, standing over him, is a girl. A teenager by the looks of it, maybe about 15 years old. Pale of skin, with light lavender hair with bangs that cover one of her purple eye. She's dressed in a sort of loose uniform, with a tie and everything, but wears a gray hoodie over it.
PERCEPTION(Challenging – Success): The hair shows no obvious signs of being dyed, nor do the eyes have an off-look to their shine. That is her actual hair color, and those are not colored contacts.
"Excuse me, sir?" the girl speaks, a bit meekly, but not in an entirely asocial manner, "Are you okay? For a moment I thought..."
She doesn't finish the sentence.
EMPATHY(Moderate – Success): She thought you were dead, is what she means. But there is no mockery or disdain there. She was just honestly, earnestly worried about you.
DRAMA(Trivial – Success): Don't just lie there like a lummox! Respond, and make it elegant for this maiden faire!
The man thought better of it. Better just be casual about this.
"Er, yeah," the man grunted, the sensations from his awakening fading phantom sensations by now. "It's fine. Must have passed out there for a minute. And I know I ain't exactly a looker."
True. While the man was used to looking like—let's be honest here—a disheveled drunk, and his body was still bloated and ungainly from long years of abuse of many sorts, this time he at least had made an attempt to tidy himself up. His mutton chops were groomed(for once) and his mullet was neatly slicked back. Even if he still felt the pull of "The Expression" plaster itself on his face, it was by now more comfortable habit than forceful compulsion. Hell, he'd even worn this white uniform that looked a bit queer compared to his usual, if outdated wear. It was...very modern, to say the least.
He didn't look as much like death as he had a good while ago, but apparently not enough to not be mistaken for a corpse.
Change was slow, incremental, hard, and often unsatisfying in the moment.
Still, the girl quickly becomes flustered, eyes widening as the implications of her words register. "Oh, no, I didn't mean to imply...I'm sorry! I was just...worried..."
"It's okay," the man says, as softly and gently as his somewhat growling voice can manage. No need to be hard on a girl just trying to help. "Happens to the best of us."
PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT(Easy – Failure): You make an attempt to get back on your feet, but something in you fails mid action. Perhaps a lingering effect of what jolted you awake? Regardless, the muscles in your extremities slip your control and make you kiss the floor. Hard. Your bulbous nose, if it weren't naturally a bit red, now most certainly would be.
At least nothing's broken. So there's that. Still, ouch.
"Fou!" Something yips by the man's head and nudges at his cheek. From the side of his vision he spots a strange, small, fluffy creature prodding at him with a tiny paw. It seems to be almost glaring at him in disappointment, shaking its furry head. "Fuu..."
ENCYCLOPEDIA(Impossible – Failure): It is...okay, you have no clue what it is. Some strange fox-dog-thing? A strange hybrid? A Cryptid?
CONCEPTUALIZATION(Trivial – Success): Like the Insulindian Phasmid?
ENCYCLOPEDIA: Yes. Like that.
The girl does not sit by and gawk, but immediately goes to help the man up, even guiding him to a nearby bench to take a breather. Sitting down certainly helps the man clear some of his head. The furry thing climbs up the girls clothes to rest on her shoulder, just...watching the man.
Still, all this has some strong déja vu going on.
LOGIC(Trivial – Success): At least you didn't lose your memory this time. You were called to this place, remember? After you went to that blood drive?
ELECTROCHEMISTRY(Easy – Success): Who knows why? A sense of altruism? Pah! Can't use any water from a spoiled well, I say!
ESPRIT DE CORPS(Easy – Success): Your colleagues and friends in the force even insisted you finally use your damn vacation days and take part in whatever this "Chaldea" needs you for.
SUGGESTION(Moderate – Failure): They said you could do something. That you could be of great help. Even Kim said not to dismiss this chance, whatever it was. There was no reason not to go!
That's right. This Chaldea organization had picked him up and then hauled his bloated carcass all the way to Antarctica. The flight had...sure been a thing.
Oh, right, better not ignore the good lady who helped him.
"Thanks, girlie," the man says, trying to convey his appreciation. "The Expression" would convey most of it. Barely. "Ain't what I used to be way back when no more."
"Mash," the girl says. It takes the man a moment to realize it's a name. "Mash Kyrielight. I'm happy to help."
ENCYCLOPEDIA(Challenging – Success): 'Mash' is a name of Hebrew origin, meaning "to depart" or "to draw out". In a Biblical context, the name can mean "Who is drawn by force". Kyrielight, however, has parts of its origins in Greek, as 'Kyrie' means "Lord". Its full form being Kyrie Eleison, meaning "Lord, have mercy.". Her last name means "Lord of Light" or "Light of the Lord".
Neat. What useless, weirdly religious trivia.
Regardless, it's only polite to answer a clear introduction in turn.
"Harrier du Bois," the man speaks, offering one of his scarred hands. "Please, just call me Harry. All my friends do."
The girl, Mash, blinks at the hand for a moment, before tentatively shaking it. She smiled softly.
OBSERVATION(Trivial – Success): Her hand is so soft and smooth, so pristine compared to yours. Hard, calloused, and scarred over a long career of hard, rough work. You almost feel like trash for tarnishing them with your touch.
EMPATHY(Moderate – Success): Her momentary hesitation to shake your hand, and how tentative she is with the gesture. This girl does not have many people who'd interact with her like this. It is small, but to her, this tiny connection means the world.
"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. du Bois-" the man raises a brow in jest, and she catches herself, "I-I mean...Harry."
"No problem, Mash," the man casually waves it off with a playful glint in his eye, the new name still a bit strange to the tongue. But not unpleasant.
"So, if I might ask. Why were you lying in the hallway?" Mash tentatively asks.
Good question.
LOGIC(Moderate – Success): You came to this base, and were put through a series of tests, the purpose of which escapes you. The last one drained you physically and mentally, and caused you to pass out after wandering about aimlessly a while. Your memory of the experience that caused this is fuzzy, at best.
As the information came back to him, Harry did his best to explain his experience to Mash.
"Oh!" the girl exclaims in realization. "You must have been put through the combat simulation. It can be quite draining the first time, so that would explain it."
Combat simulation? Was that what it was? Darn you, memory sieve!
"Ah, Mash, there you are!" A man in a green coat stalks over before the man knows it. "I was looking for you. Oh, and who is this?"
Mash stands up suddenly, and Harry sees fit to follow suit(more slowly). "Oh, Professor Lev! This is-"
AUTHORITY(Trivial – Success): This man is clearly a superior. Make a good first impression. Show him the respect he is due!
COMPOSURE(Easy – Failure): Who the hell wears a top hat in this day and age?! How silly!
"Your hat is funny," a snort escapes Harry's lips before he can stop himself. Mash stumbles on her feet, but catches herself. Her eyes widen at the man, and her expression tightens.
PERCEPTION(Moderate – Success): She's suppressing a laugh. A far superior show of discipline than yours.
"Hahaha!" the man named Lev laughs, taking the remark in good cheer. His eyes remain nearly closed the entire time "I suppose my sense of fashion is a bit behind the times." He takes the man's wrist and does some technological things to a bracelet he was given that the man does not fully grasp. "Ah, Harrier du Bois. Candidate Number 48. Our last, late addition."
RHETORIC[Moderate – Failure]: Hard to say what he means by that. Might be mocking you. Calling you tardy. I think he is.
INLAND EMPIRE(Formidable – Success): The demon hisses his sweet words. Lies so sweet they taint even the one who speaks them with ignorance. Yet even those words are not its own, but merely a collar made in antiquity.
YOU: Now that's just unnecessarily cryptic...
"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Lev Lainur, the chief technician here at Chaldea," the judgmental man introduces himself, smiling like a wily fox. He offers his hand as a polite gesture, and Harry is not so impolite as to refuse.
ESPRIT DE CORPS(Moderate – Success): This man's grip is firm. Resolute. Reminds you of some of the guys in the force. The guys who have their minds fully set on something.
SUGGESTION(Challenging – Failure): I know what he's doing! He's trying to suck up to you. Reel you in with a grin and a smile. And that's when it starts...
YOU: What starts?
SUGGESTION: The workplace harassment. It's happened before, when you first joined the force. Remember your first commanding officer? That prick, Nikolaus van Damme? That's exactly how it started!
YOU: Aren't you exaggerating? Maybe it's not that bad?
VOLITION(Easy – Success): Irrelevant. Pay attention. They are talking.
"Professor Lev, please excuse Ha- Mr. du Bois," Mask says, correcting the man's name, clearly just to be professional. "He passed out after the combat simulation, so he couldn't help it."
"Ah, that would explain it," Lev mused, rubbing his chin. "I really should bring up lowering the settings on that if this continues as a trend."
"I think we should guide Mr. du Bois to where he needs to go," Mash continued calmly. "He just recovered from his fatigue, but there might still be some lingering effects."
"Ah, that's right. The seminar being held by the Director is about to start." Lev nods to the girl appreciatively. "Good thinking Mash. Better safe than sorry, as we technicians say!"
RHETORIC(Trivial – Success): You're pretty sure that saying is not exclusive to technicians.
ENDURANCE(Moderate – Failure): When you try to walk just a bit too quickly, a sensation of vertigo and exhaustion washes over you. You stumble, but Mash stops you from making out with the floor again. Despite her small frame, she catches and holds your weight easily.
PERCEPTION(Moderate - Success): You spot the furry little beast hop off in that moment and wander off. The other two don't seem to notice, focusing on your sorry self.
Blinking away the woozy feeling and waving off Mash's concerns, and seeing no reason to turn away some guidance, Mash and Lev take over and guide Harry to the meeting room. After arriving, Lev bids them farewell, and Mash says she'll also stand in the sideline to witness the seminar.
COMPOSURE(Moderate – Success): You enter the room, and immediately it's glaringly obvious you do not belong here. It's not just that you're noticeably older than the majority of people in this room, but also your bearing. Weary and ragged, something no amount of grooming can hide. But you manage to maintain some semblance of control, and don't start perspiring heavily from the stares laid upon your person.
PERCEPTION(Easy – Success): A young woman up front, early twenties by your estimate despite her platinum, almost white hair, glares at you in a particularly nasty way. It is like just looking at you violates her most basic sensibilities.
ENDURANCE(Challenging - Success): It is an instinctual response. She does not know you. But in her gut, she has a feeling. A feeling that she will never like you.
AUTHORITY(Moderate – Failure): What is this child doing?! Laying snap judgment upon you? Standing up-front, as if they were leading this operation? Shameful! You should bring this up to the administration!
COMPOSURE[Moderate – Success]: Don't do that. There is still a lot you don't know about this place. Better play things cool for now, and not make a worse impression.
Undaunted, for now, Harry soon finds a free seat, plants his behind firmly on it and waits patiently, ignoring the looks he's getting. After a short bit, the young woman up front clears her throat, and the light whispering about the room ceases. Then she begins to speak. With authority.
It appears that this young woman is, in fact, the Director.
COMPOSURE: You dodged a major bullet with your restraint. It will reflect well on you.
The woman is named Olga-Marie Animusphere, and it does not take much for Harry to realize that the Director is looking down on every single individual seated in the room. Her words are snappy, direct, and coldly indifferent to the opinions of anyone.
DRAMA(Challenging – Success): It is a front. She's puffing herself up by tearing others down. You've seen this kind of thing before. It is borne of a sense of insecurity, of feeling small in a world far too large and intimidating.
EMPATHY(Legendary – Success): The signs are subtle. Her eyes wander. She pays far too much attention to the entire room when she speaks, gauging reactions. A truly confident person would not care. Beneath the facade, you can see it. Just barely. You initial judgment wasn't entirely unwarranted.
YOU: I knew it! She's too young to be in a leadership role.
LOGIC(Easy – Success): Age does not necessarily indicate experience or capability. But the woman up front still carries herself as if bearing a weight on her shoulders. And it is crushing her. All she can do is endure. She must!
PERCEPTION(Moderate – Success): Dammit! Her wandering gaze flick to you and her eyes halt for just a moment. Surprise dances deep in her eyes, which quickly turns to scorn. She acts like nothing happened and moves on with her speech. But the feeling remains.
YOU: What? But I didn't even do anything?
PERCEPTION: The bleeding heart. He gave you away. Your sympathy showed on your face. No one else noticed, they don't want to look at you. But she did. She was surprised you could see through her. And she was insulted. Took it as pity.
VOLITION(Moderate – Success): The young Director has her issues. But you're in the middle of something here. This seminar is supposed to explain why you are here. Pay attention.
Harry comes back to reality, his whirring mind slowing its pace to focus an the Director's speech. He was still mighty confused about one thing: Why him? He was just a detective, just some guy with a dysfunctional past and a myriad of questionable life choices left behind him.
He hoped that he could gleam something, anything that would explain it to him.
ENCYCLOPEDIA(Godly – Failure): The Director talks. Explains why you are here. But all you hear are terminology, jargon, and proper nouns that don't make sense to you. Rayshifting? Spiritrons? She even says something about mages, but that is the least confounding of the nonsense coming out of her mouth. Magic? Come on.
RHETORIC(Challenging – Success): Wait, don't make a rash judgment like that. There's something to this. Her manner of speaking is way too straight-laced to be an attempt at a joke or deception.
LOGIC(Challenging – Success): Things line up too well for this to be just a joke. The facility of this "Chaldea" is too professional, not to mention it obviously has a lot of money poured into it. The people around you aren't reacting like this is some big surprise, nor do they get offended. They know something you do not.
YOU: Once you eliminate the improbable...
LOGIC: Exactly! Things click into place. Those things she's saying. They are real, at least to everyone in this room except you. You are the anomaly. Or you would be, but you were called to be here.
YOU: Wait, wait! So, you mean to imply that...
CONCEPTUALIZATION(Legendary – Success): The facts gather up in your mind and a brand new image forms. But as it does, something in you breaks. Something you've known all your life: normalcy. Your anchor to all that you know snaps from the stain, sending you adrift in unfamiliar waters.
COMPOSURE(Impossible – Failure): You start to sweat. Your breath grows shallow. Your vision blurs. Your stomach wants to revolt against you, to expel something just to lighten the growing uncertainty in your gut, to no avail. In the haze of white noise you can only hear your heart beating it's way out of your chest.
ENDURANCE(Formidable – Failure): It's too much for you, bröther. Better call it quits before you give yourself a hear attack. This is not my problem anymore.
Outside of his head, Harry pathetically and unceremoniously collapses, limply flopping off his seat and onto the floor like a dead fish. His cognizance has barely enough juice to realize that a few people around him are murmuring. Probably about how pathetic he is for passing out for seemingly no reason.
PERCEPTION(Legendary – Success): You manage to discern a few things through the cacophony of nothingness you're is falling into. The Director shouts something you can't make out. She sounds angry. Footsteps rush to your side, another voice calling out to you. They're highly concerned. That's Mash.
CONCEPTUALIZATION: As the darkness reclaims you once more, at the twilight of your consciousness, something within you stirs. While you mentally shatter, a part of you breaks off to join your inner disorder. And in your last moments before losing yourself, it springs to life, offering you your impossible revelation.
CIRCUITS MAGIGUES: Feeble as I am, I have always been with you. You simply lived in ignorance of the truth. Not that I could do much for you regardless. But now the veil is lifted. Despite our doubts, finally I will serve the best I can. This is what you are.
And as Harry passed out for the second time since arriving at the Chaldea Security Organization, a new aspect of himself was born. And it gleefully whispered to him an unknown truth.
MÈTIER DE MAGIE: You're a wizard, Harry!
Author's Notes: I pronounce the shortened title as a *yawn* sound.
Now, you might be asking yourselves: "What the hell is this nonsense?" And the answer...I dunno! I got a brain fart for this stupid piece of glorious failure, and had to write it down as a creative icebreaker.
In an alternate Universe and Timeline, Ritsuka Fujimaru, our lovable and competent protagonist, is replaced by random chance. And their replacement is the human train wreck that is Lieutenant double-yefreitor Harrier "Harry" du Bois, from the hit RPG Disco Elysium.
And if you know anything about that game...Chaldea is so boned. Gods have mercy and may the fortunes smile. Harry, and the very future of Humanity, are going to need it. And just for clarity: This is Harry after an approximation of the events of the game happened, so he's a little bit more put together. For now. Will it last? Probably not.
Will this continue? For however long it amuses me and when the whim strikes. The idea has actual interesting merit, and the method of storytelling split between Harry in the real world, and his Skills narrating his reactions and observations in his head is bound to be...interesting if nothing else.
And yes, in this Harry is a Mage. But...this is still Harry "I drank myself into total amnesia" du Bois, so that predictably doesn't amount to much. Or does it?
-A New Function has Awakened-
Circuits Magiques – A representation of Harry's Magic Circuits. Few, feeble, and atrophied from a lifetime of disuse, they carry a deep pessimism at their potential. But they are there for Harry, always. Despite their meager being, they hold Hope for him.
-A New Skill has been Born-
Métier de Magie – An Intellect Skill representing Harry's aptitude as a Mage, and his knowledge and capacity for Magecraft. Understandably, it's pathetic in its scope. For now.
-An Interloper is Spotted-
Magicien des Fleurs – Who is this asshole?