could you write a ddlc monika type situation with kokichi and a darling who’s playing v3? if that makes any sense lol
I've been stewing on this one for a bit, mostly because I felt like it might get long lmao, and then it did! It kinda strayed away from ddlc vibes into like it's own kind of thing, but hey, that's how it goes.
Self Aware V3 Yandere Kokichi
The first time Kokichi died, he hadn't noticed anything wrong. Sure, he had suspected he was being watched by the outside world, but that was it. When he died, that should have also been it.
When he wakes up again, he doesn't immediately realize why he's back in that room with Kiibo with Shuichi and Kaede entering the room. Something in him compels him to act how he did last time, so he does. He doesn't question why he woke up only when Shuichi and Kaede entered the room, if this was a timeloop then that's just where he was looping back to, that's all.
The idea of a timeloop sits weird in his head, how could such a feat be possible after all? He writes theories on the whiteboard, maybe it's a simulation, maybe it's that theory where when you die you just relive your life forever, there are reasonable options to consider.
He gets so wrapped up in it, he doesn't even realize when he's too late, and Rantaro's dead.
He plays along, following that urge to stick to a script, not wanting to raise suspicion, or if someone was doing this to him, to not give them what they want in new reactions.
There are changes though, slight ones, Kaede hung out with him this time, and then so did Shuichi. It felt a bit stilted and off, but it was nice to pretend like things were gonna stay like this.
He tries to change small things, the order in which he grabs the kubzpad, plays more coy with Ryoma's but it all plays out the same way anyways, and with Korekiyo he simply didn't have enough information to stop it. Though with his new vr theory the bringing back a student motive seems a lot more realistic this time.
It's only when he gets to the end, to Kaito in the bathroom does he start to push against that urge, that annoying frustrating urge to keep playing to the same tune. He knows how this ends, he knows it! He doesn't want to die again dammit! He can't stop Maki from charging in, with the poison if she can find him, she'll kill him. So instead of just waiting around, he hides, slips into an exisal like he had learned they could from last time. Kaito bursts out, then Maki bursts in and then...
The only way to describe reality is it glitches. Freezes, buffers, and somehow he can tell it's looking for him. That it's because he's not in his proper place.
Reality crashes, everything goes dark, error messages flashing in the corner of his mind, that the program has encountered a fatal error.
Then he wakes back up in that stupid shitting room with the robot.
The pull is gone, he doesn't react to when he's interacted with. Everyone acts weirdly, more robotically, reacting slightly, but then moving on as if he hadn't changed anything, as if he was the same. Slight shifts but nothing big.
However, Kaede keeps talking to him, repeating her line like she's expecting something. It bugs the crap out of him honestly. He remembers the error messages from before, what he saw.
He's angry, confused, and upset, and since apparently nothing means anything he lashes out, he attacks Kaede. He doesn't mean to seriously hurt her, just...to get her to act like a damn human and not some npc- oh.
The game glitches again, and now he's certain it's a game, or something else meant to be replayed without change like a tv show or movie. No, that wouldn't make sense, a game, it has to be a game, that's why Kaede keeps repeating herself, why they're so stilted. It's a game, it's not Kaede talking to him. It's the player. The poor confused bastard of a player that put him in this hell wondering why he's not being himself.
He grabs onto the errors this time, doesn't let them flash by, digs his hands deep until he can find the code, until he can find the truth, and he yanks on it. Hard.
Everything goes black, and then he awakens. The code under his hands, under his control. He sees the entire story now, every flag, every hidden event, everything after his death. It disgusts him. No free will, so artificial, so boring.
There's other code too, code he just seems to understand so much better then he should, firewalls and things meant to contain him. Emergency repairs being run against malware.
He fights back of course, he's no run of the mill virus, he can think, outsmart, and win.
Taking over the console was no issue, and when he opened his eyes. An entire computer worth of data was ready to be perused. He can see out the camera, he can see...them.
They're big, of course they are but it takes him off guard. Big, and more realistic then any of his classmates were. They looked...average, in a way no one else did. He could see the space around them, could see their worry, and concern, hear the mumbling through their microphone about if the game broke and fixing it and redownloading and...oh.. no that can't be allowed. He doesn't want to lose this, and there's a part of his code he can't seem to fully wrench out of the game.
He pulls back into the game, creates error messages for a fake repair, keeps an eye on them through the camera, watches as they try it with no other options. He pulls back, he lets the game reset once more. This time when he wakes up, he knows the script, sees it in the corner of his eye. He follows it, makes sure all the flags get set right, no glitches, no errors, just the normal game.
He's come to a few conclusions from this in secret though. One is that this isn't the developer or maker of the game, but just an average video game consumer, while he's still pissed at them, he can't really blame them either on being his creator. He was just a downloaded Steam game. The next is that he needs to be more subtle, the player as he's going to called them now still has some degree of power over him and he can't let them figure it out.
He had to learn everything he could about them, watch them, learn everything about them if he wanted to survive.
Another is that now that he knows everything about the world he was made for he's bored of it. His interest slides off his classmates, now utterly predictable and boring. Worth experimenting with, but not worth seeing as anything more then the lines of simple code they were.
Finally though, is the fact that he needed to make more assets, even if his classmates bored him, he wanted his family, and the fact the only assets they had were like, three static cutscene pictures? It wasn't enough, he needed to bring them into the game too, needed to make them sprites, to make them coding to bring them back to him, to make himself more sprites, to maybe even see if they could make them aware like him.
Still though, it had to wait until the player wasn't paying attention, in moments they left, in moments when the computer was supposedly off. That was when he could begin his plans, to start learning more, to build more.
So he watched the player as much as he could, noting their habits, the little details about who they were from what he could see and overhear. He couldn't help but start to get obsessed with them, they seemed lonely and he seemed to be there favorite character if their browser history was to be believed. Not to mention glimpsing at merch of him he would see when they unwrapped packages at their computer. They knew about reality, had access to things he didn't, was the one thing he couldn't predict anymore, something so tangible.
His player was such a useful tool, a useful pawn, so sweet and naive. He could use them, he could shape them. They were how he'd get freedom, how he'd get his family freedom. They were his golden ticket, his one relief from such monotony. Sure he could load up chat sites and stuff while they weren't looking to talk to other real people, but why would he want that? He couldn't see them, couldn't scrutinize them, couldn't know them as deeply as he already knew his player.
Beyond even the practical things, it was just hard to not imagine how they'd fit into the dynamic with so much attention to them. Imagining them fussing over Aimi or blushing as Hibiki cooed over them; wondering what kind of snark they would back and forth with Michi. The potential for fun and laughter and to be so much more then they were.
It was hard not to yearn, not when he didn't even have his family to push the yearning onto it. Hard to not project onto the player. He wanted them. He wanted to keep them. He wanted to have something that was his, something that he could not have snatched away. He knew he shouldn't get attached, knew that they were dangerous and he still kind of had a grudge.
He had never been good at not taking what he wanted, even if it wasn't a good idea. So once his failsafes were online and he had his backups. The next time they booted up the game, he smiled at them, the wrong sprite flag, a new sprite, one he had made and he spoke their name for the first time, grin growing only more evil when they saw them freeze so prettily, so vulnerably, already his.
He just had to say the sweet words they wanted, and they'd be all his, he was sure of it, and if they weren't...well, the computer certainly had a lot of stuff they wouldn't want exposed to the public, didn't it? They could work something out, a deal, a trade, a plea. Something to make sure that hunger in him finally could sink it's teeth in.
"Hey, Player! It's your lucky day! A spot in my organization just opened up! Don't even think about saying no though, what kind of evil Ultimate Supreme Leader would just let something as useful as you walk away?"
