#rewritten scene

The impact of a power-plant melting down is always felt immediately, and with the gravity of that situation on full display: the nearby cities are evacuated, the local rangers have to go into overtime doing damage control and quashing the incoming wave of savage, irradiated pokemon, and eventually the situation grows desperate enough that you need to help push back the horde.

A lot of pokemon games really don’t convey the stakes of what’s going on when the plot kicks in; the inaction of Cynthia on Spear Pillar, the stagnant indifference of Hoenn to the fluctuating weather, the lack of meaningful response or impact of Team Rocket’s Goldenrod takeover; in contrast to all of that, once powerplants start blowing up in Uranium, the whole world around it shifts in immediate response. It reflects the gravity of the situation, but doesn’t quite leave the tonal range of the game.

Unlike the behavior of the main antagonist. To briefly summarize, in the end of the game, the main villain is revealed to be your long lost mother: Lucille. Ten years before, she locked herself in the stasis chamber to save the game’s box legend: Urayne from a meltdown specifically orchestrated to destroy it because the guy in charge of the program wasn't happy it was developing a personality,  and the international police were on their way to investigate their super illegal research.

Later, when your trustworthy and responsible father sends you to explore the ruins of that powerplant, you inadvertently unleash the duo from stasis, and since Urayne needs nuclear fuel to survive, they attack the powerplants to obtain the fuel. In the final  moments of the game, it’s revealed that she was always motivated by keeping the vulnerable Urayne she helped create safe and alive, but that the ten years in semi-conscious stasis did a major number on her mind, making her lose touch with herself, her memories, and her empathy. It’s an ending that paints her as broken, sympathetic, and desperate.

So why in the fresh hell is she reveling in cruelty and murder? During her three scenes where all we know her as is CURIE, she’s a megalomaniacal menace, laughing at the weaklings that dare to oppose her, raving about world domination and unlimited power. This is not the characterization of someone who’s desperate and driven to extremes.

They do try to explain her behavior: it's said that being hooked into the neural link that her suit has with Urayne for so long produces mental degradation that drove her insane, and that her hatred of the director that called for the death of Urayne spread to all of humanity, but neither of those changes are something that believably flow from the caring mother this character needs to fundamentally be in order to be redeemable from this dark low.

This is why I say her writing is the reason this game is still so edgy; the conflicting desires for a dangerous pure-evil villain and a reunion with your long lost mom who was actually the villain - both edgy plot elements but serviceable on their own - clash horribly to the detriment of the story as a whole.

Now, with a lot of stories I have issues with the final execution of, I think there’s not really a correct way to fix it; there are a lot of different potential solutions that could’ve been explored, which may or may not be more satisfying than what we got. In this case, I think it’s much more straightforward; the writers of this story were so agonizingly close to something genuinely compelling, and I do believe there is a right answer for how to fix up this story. Reason being, the potential change I see doesn’t require CURIE to do anything different at all. All it requires is her to say different things. It’s just a shift in CURIE’s characterization from an enraged, power-hungry monster, to a cold, unstoppably-determined survivor.

In her first scene, rather than reveling in causing suffering to the people opposing her, write her as coldly fixated on her objective and willing to bash anything out of her way to achieve it. She’ll do whatever she needs to to get the rangers to give her the fuel, then she’ll do whatever she needs to to escape the situation when Interpol has her on the back foot. In the climax, rather than having her basking in the unlimited power that they’ve obtained, have her reveling in the seemingly unlimited source of life that she’s found for Urayne, and viciously determined to protect it. As for her second scene, ranting to you about using you as a hostage bargaining chip to exchange with the rangers for fuel, I frankly couldn’t help myself. I ended up rewriting her entire monologue myself back while under the illusion that I’d be turning this into a YouTube series. Here’s what I came up with.

After navigating the radiation blasted corridors of the melted-down Plant Zeta, you cross one final bridge before your hazmat suit’s shielding can give in. Waiting for you on the other side is the pair that attacked Plant Omicron: Urayne facing you, and CURIE facing away. As you step onto the landing, CURIE begins to speak. "...just as I thought. Here you are." "Urayne. Do it." A wave of nuclear energy washes through the room, and the bridge behind you collapses into the nuclear waste below. CURIE turns to face you. "I wonder what it would’ve taken for you to rethink this foolhardy quest." "How low would I have needed to stoop in order to frighten you away?" "Regardless, you have my thanks for coming here." "The rangers will be far more likely to cave to our demands..." "...with the child of the chief in our custody."

They turn away from you again, looking up at something behind them. "Look here: at your friend." The screen pans up behind CURIE, revealing an active stasis chamber with Theo inside. "He’s not dead; he’s only in stasis." "He is unaware, but conscious. Neither awake, nor asleep." "His thoughts are suspended at the very moment he entered the chamber." "What could he be feeling? Pain? Fear? Confusion? Anguish?" "A single miserable moment, drawn out for an eternity..." The screen pans down again, but CURIE continues looking in the direction of the stasis chamber. “It is a truly hellish thing your friend is enduring..." "...but it is only a fraction of what we endured." "And now, it will be your hell to endure with him." CURIE turns around to face you directly. "It is a shame you must be put through this," "but this chamber is the only way to keep you alive here, as our hostages." "If it’s any small consolation, your torment should only last a few days," "long enough for the rangers to deliver us the uranium we need." "It’s a necessary evil," "and compared to the decade of torment we were forced to suffer," "it’s a raindrop in an ocean."

Your character steps forward, issuing a challenge to CURIE and Urayne. "Hmph. Even after all of this, you insist on fighting back." "So be it. If you must be subdued," "then you will be subdued."

From a mechanical perspective and a plot perspective, this makes no difference at all; you’re still facing off against a dangerous nuclear boss for the fate of the region, your rival, and yourself.

But the difference that changes like this would make for Lucille’s character would’ve been the difference that takes her from a conflicted mess trying to be two characters at once, to a good person driven to unequivocal evil, stuck trying to justify it to themselves in real time.

Cemetery Boys AU

Simon could feel energy swarming below him.

“Do you feel that, too?” Penelope asked.

“Yeah. It’s way stronger in here.” he said. Whatever spirit that led them here was close.

Simon took a step back, and his shoe slipped. He’d stepped on a piece of cloth.

Penny moved in. “What’s that?”

“I think it’s a scarf.” Simon muttered, pointing his lantern to it. The scarf was pale blue. He bent down and carefully picked it up. As soon as his fingers made contact with the fabric, a shiver ran through his body. Electricity flooded through his veins, and he took a sharp breath. Something pulsed under his feet, synchronized with his own heartbeat.

“I think- It’s a tether.” he said, a spike of adrenaline making him feel light-headed.

When a spirit attached itself to a tether, they had to stay near it. That was why haunted houses existed, but not many cities haunted by a single ghost – spirits couldn’t venture far from their tethers. And mages could only release them and help them pass peacefully to their eternal rest once they were free of their earthly bindings.

Simon had never actually held a spirit’s tether before. They were incredibly powerful. Some of the mages claimed that mishandling a spirit’s tether would get you cursed. But Simon had never heard of anyone actually getting possessed, and he had no intention of disrespecting this tether.

“But it’s not Ebb’s. She didn’t own any silk blue scarfs, that I’m sure of.” Penelope said, reaching out as if to touch it before thinking better.

“It could be Ebb’s.” Simon tried to reason, his hope of finding his friend fighting against logic. He squeezed the scarf in his hand. Warmth spread through his palm and up his arm. He turned to Penny with a smile. “There’s only one way to find out.”

Penelope gave him a skeptical look, and Simon shrugged.

“I have to try – What if Ebb’s spirit got tethered to this instead of her staff?” he said, twisting the scarf between his fingers.

“It could be attached to someone who’s gone malefic.” Penelope said, casting a pointed look around the dilapidated church.

“Then it’s a good thing I’ve got a sword now, innit?” Simon said. Penny raised her eyebrows, but then grinned.

“All right, Greatest Mage, work your magic.”

The rush of excitement made Simon feel giddy as he knelt.

He held his hand over his hip, calling for the Sword of Mages. "In justice. In courage. In defense of the weak. In the face of the mighty. Through magic and wisdom and good." The hilt materializes in his grip, and he swings the sword up to his shoulder. Maybe it was the feel of the blade in his hand or the magic he knew flowed through his veins, but Simon felt recklessly brave.

He stood up again and tried to take a deep breath, but he was too excited, practically buzzing. His palms were sweaty. He looked over to Penelope, who gave him an enthusiastic and encouraging nod.

Simon had seen his mentor, Davy, summon spirits before. It wasn’t exactly general knowledge for mages, but he knew what to do and how to do it. It was one of the few incantations that Simon believed he could get right, like with the Sword of Mages, because those weren’t like other spells. They didn’t come so easily to other mages as regular incantations did. Magic words are tricky, and Simon had never been good with words. You have to have a good vocabulary to do magic. You have to be able to think on your feet and be brave enough to speak up. And you have to actually understand what you’re saying, how the words translate into magic.

None of that came naturally to Simon. And his magic... He was powerful, he knew that, but his magic behaved differently than everyone else’s. His magic was immediate and literal. Sometimes, it acted when he didn’t even mean to make it do anything. It just… happened.

And that was exactly what he needed right now.

He felt the magic inside him, strong and infinite. He called it to the surface, his skin suddenly warmer, and held out his arm, the scarf looped around his hand. Simon cleared his throat, trying to breathe around the lump that had formed.

“I summon you, spirit!”

For a terrifying second, nothing happened. Then, an explosion of heat and golden light. Simon sprang back, choking on the smoke.

There was a person in front of him, doubled over their hand and knees, clutching their chest.

Simon could hardly believe his eyes. “It worked!”

The spirit’s face was screwed up tight in a grimace, their fingers knotted into the material of his shirt, a beautiful floral, white with blue and purple flowers and fat striped bumblebees.

“That’s not Ebb.” Penelope tried to whisper, but she’d never had a very good inside voice.

Simon groaned and dragged a hand over his face. On the bright side, he had actually summoned a real-life spirit

On the not-so-bright side, he had summoned the wrong one.

“Obviously.” Simon growled back, unable to look away from the spirit as they gasped for breath, the muscles in their neck straining. They had that translucent quality around the edges, like all spirits, Their eyes swung to Simon and Penny, with a handsome but very angry face, their grimace now more of a sneer.

“Well, at least it’s not a malefic spirit?” Penny offered.

The person staggered to their feet, upright but unsteady. “Who the hell are you?”, they snarled, dark grey eyes blazing, sharp as obsidian.

“Uhh” was Simon’s unhelpful reply, suddenly back to being capable of forming a coherent sentence.

“Where am I?” the person’s voice coming out of them in a tight roar, head tilting back as they took in their surroundings. “Am I in a church?” their attention swung back to Simon and Penelope with an accusing glare. “Who let me in a church?”

Familiarity prickled at the back of Simon’s mind, racing to place their sharp edges, posh look, and the irritated, cold tone in their voice.

“Uh- well- you see,” Simon stammered, not really sure how to explain their situation, but he wasn’t given the chance to finish. The person’s eyes snagged on the scarf still dangling from Simon’s hand.

“Hey!” Simon saw their anger swell, hunching their shoulders, and propelling them forward. The spirit stomped up to him, fire in their eyes. “That’s mine.”

They reached out to snatch the scarf, but their hand went right through it. They frowned and tried again, and when their hand slid through it a second time, they froze, blinked their eyes, and slowly waved it back and forth.

Their eyes went wide, and they stumbled back. “What the hell is this?” they demanded to know, looking between their hand and the scarf and Simon and Penelope.

“Wow, this is really awkward.” Simon said, scratching at the back of his neck. Penelope seemed less worried.

“Well, there’s no denying you’re an actual mage now.” she said, circling the spirit with keen interest. They scowled at her.

“Who are you, and what are you doing with my scarf?” they demanded, looking to Simon for answers.

“Well, uh, I used it to summon you.” he tried.

The spirit crossed their arms, arching a thick eyebrow.

“Yeah, we thought it might have belonged to Ebb.” What was the gentlest way to tell someone they were dead?

“Ebeneza. Our friend.” Penelope specified.

The spirit didn’t seem at all interested in who Ebb was. “It’s mine.” they insisted with a growl. “It belonged to my mother. It’s got our last name on it see?” their fingers curling in demand.

Simon turned the fabric over to find that a name had indeed been recorded in a tip. He blinked. “Oh.” The delicate cursive letters read PITCH. “Oh.”

The Pitch family was well known, and also magickal. They didn’t do any death-related magic, though, not like Davy or the Bunces – they were magickal authorities. Royalty, aristocrats, leaders. Researchers, linguists. They knew spells like no other magickal families. They were fire magicians, brilliant with fire. But they weren’t involved with action, not like the mages Simon and Penelope grew with. The Pitches didn’t know about death magick, not like them.

Simon knew the Pitch’s heir, Baz Pitch, or rather knew of them. They went to highschool together, and Baz had a bit of a... reputation. They used to be a top student, and when they were roaming the halls it was hard to not notice them. They had the sort of presence that demanded everyone’s attention without needing to ask. They were hard to miss.

Until they got expelled.

“Do you know how you got here?” Simon questioned them. Baz glared.

“No. All I remember is walking down the street with my friends. Then something- someone-” they frowned. “I just remember getting knocked over.” They unconsciously rubbed at the same point on their chest, near their heart. “Then the next thing I knew, I was in a church with you two.”

Three beats passed before Baz’s eyes went wide. “I died, didn’t I?” Simon and Penelope looked at each other. “Am I dead?”

Simon gave a small nod. Baz stumbled back a step, their body wavering in and out of existence for a moment. “Oh, Crowley. My aunt is going to kill me.” They pressed both hands against their face and groaned against their palms.

“Looks like someone already beat her to it.” Penelope pointed out.

“So I’m a spirit now.” Baz scowled, ignoring the girl. They didn’t sound angry or dismayed, just… annoyed. As if this were just an inconvenience. “And you’re also mages, I suppose. So you can send spirits to the afterlife, right?”

“Yes- Well, no-” Simon fumbled, trying to explain himself. “I should be able to- er, I guess- I haven’t done the releasing part yet-”

“Great. So I’m stuck with two shitty witches.”

Annoyance flared in Simon. “Look, this is my first time, okay?” Baz blinked slowly at him, unimpressed. “You- You’re attached to a tether, your scarf. So I just need to destroy the-”

“No, no way!” Baz shook their head. “That’s my mother’s scarf, you are not destroying it.” They tried to snatch it from Simon, but, again, they were left with a fistful of empty air. Penelope chuckled.

“No, just listen-” Simon gripped his blade, raising it.

Baz scoffed, which was not how Simon thought any sane person should react to getting a sword pointed at them.

“What are you going to do, stab me?” Baz’s laughter was flat and sharp. “Already dead, remember?”

“I’m not going to stab you!” No matter how tempting it is, Simon thought. Penelope cut in.

“He can use this to destroy the tie keeping you here.” Baz opened their mouth to argue, but Penny pressed on. “Not the scarf, just the tie anchoring you to the scarf. Then you can go to the afterlife and be at peace, okay?”

Baz smirked. “Yeah, no. He’s not doing that.”

Simon groaned. Of course the first spirit he summoned was a git that wouldn’t just be released willingly. No, he had to get stuck with the one who had an attitude problem.

“I’m doing this. Right now.” Simon said. “We still need to find Ebb, and, besides, if you stay here like this for too long, you’ll turn all dark and violent and start hurting people.”

Baz crossed their arms over their chest. “No.” Simon looked at Penelope for help, but she just shrugged her shoulders.

“You’re leaving me no choice.” Simon pushed his jaw forward to stand his ground. A thick eyebrow quirked. Simon called for his magic, squeezing the scarf in his hand. “Show me the bond!”

The Sword of Mages and the scarf glowed bright, filling the church with a warm blaze that made all three of them squint. A golden thread sparked to life in the air, starting from the blue fabric and ending at the center of Baz’s chest.

Simon inhaled a deep breath. “I set you free for the next life!” he sliced his sword through the air, aiming directly for the golden thread. Instead of severing it, the edge of the blade caught on the line. The Sword of Mages vibrated in his hand, and small sparks flew from where they met.

Baz relaxed, but Simon wasn’t giving up just yet. He tried slicing through it again, then tried sawing at it, but all it did was send more sparks flying and make his shoulder hurt.

Simon turned over to see an obnoxious smirk on Baz’s face.

“Wow. You really suck at this.” they said, looking pleased with themselves. Simon turned to Penelope.

His heart hammered in his ears, and his throat felt like it was closing up on him. The sudden aching in his chest (surely not helped by his tight binder) threatened to swallow him whole. Penny was immediately at his side, her voice calm and soothing as she gripped his arms.

“Don’t worry about this! This isn’t your fault, Si.” she jerked her head in Baz’s direction. “They’re probably too bull-headed to cross over.”

“Hey!”

Penelope ignored their protest. “Just like my great-aunt, remember?”

“Maybe.” Simon mumbled. He didn’t want to think about it. Shame burned hot on his cheeks.

“Look.” Baz called. “I’m willing to cut you a deal.”

Simon and Penny turned to them.

“I’ve got unfinished business.” Baz said, brow furrowed. “And I need to check on my friends. They were with me when I died, I need to make sure they’re okay.” their face twisted between annoyance and something that could’ve been worry. “And maybe they know who got me. That could be connected-” They shook their head, interrupting themselves. “If you help me on a personal project, and let me find my friends and make sure they’re okay, I will willingly let you do what you need to do and send me to the afterlife.”

Simon looked at Penelope, who shrugged. “I don’t think we have much of a choice here.”

“Okay.” Simon took a step forward. “Wait. What’s this ‘personal project’ you’re talking about?”

Baz’s features got rigid. They stepped closer to Simon.

“My mother’s killer walks. You are going to help me find out who he is, and avenge her, and bring her peace.”

„Mr Chambers! Could you identify that stunning bird for us there?”

„Ooh! Absolutely!” Bartholomew nodded, before heading towards the beautiful creature Lady Lucy pointed at.

„I’ll help you.” Mr Konevi followed after him, smiling at the man’s excitement.

The bird flew away a little further, making the following it gentlemen go deeper into the woods, before finally landing on a low hanging branch of an oak tree.

„There you are. I think I recognize you from one of my books.” Bart whispered to himself, sneaking up closer to take a better look. „Ah, I know. Yusuf, I think it’s an albino ptarmigan! Such a beauty,  isn’t… oh!” he turned to his lover only to be silenced by the barrister pressing an urgent kiss to his lips.

„You’re so captivating when you’re passionate about something, my love.” Konevi’s forehead rested against his when they pulled away.

„Yusuf! Mr Sinclaire and Lady Lucy might see us!” Bart scolded, still a bit breathless from the kiss, lightly hitting his arm with an open palm.

„Relax. They are so busy making eyes at each other, I’m afraid they wouldn’t even notice if these woods were on fire.”

„I’m happy for them. With everything going on, they certainly deserve every private moment they can get.” Mr Chambers sighed.

„And I wouldn’t say no to a private moment with you,” Yusuf smirked, wrapping an arm around his lover’s waist to pull him closer. Their lips met and Bart’s hands quickly found their way into the barrister’s hair. Yusuf began peppering the man’s nose, cheeks and jaw with more kisses, only to return to his lips after a moment, capturing them once again.

They weren’t quite sure how much time passed when Chambers finally found the willpower to pull away.

„I wish we could spend the whole hunting trip like this but we have to go back.” Bart looked into the warm, brown eyes with affection, his arms still around his lover’s neck.

„I could be holding you close for all eternity and it still wouldn’t be long enough. But you’re right. Our bird already flew away and I think the lovebirds waiting for us had enough time for themselves.” Yusuf winked at him and they kissed one last time before heading back.

Mr Sinclaire jumped away from Lady Lucy upon seeing them, trying to look as proper as possible but unable to keep the corners of his mouth from turning upwards. Mr Chambers beamed at the couple.

„I’m terribly sorry this took so long, the bird kept flying away.” he looked at Mr Konevi, who nodded to confirm his words. „It was an albino ptarmigan.”

„Your passion for ornithology seems to make itself useful more often than not,” noted Mr Sinclaire.