Chapter 4: Conversations and Ideas
Silently, Erik sits, studying the Plain Doll next to him. “So.” He finally bites out, thinking over things carefully.
“So?” The Plain Doll retorts, her smile never leaving her face.
“If I leave the computer, they’re going to mess with my access to it.” Erik nods, thinking. “Or so Monika says is what happened to others she met.” Erik rubs his chin, thinking for a moment.
“You spoke of at least one greater eldritch power being involved, as well.” Erik continues on, thinking, eyes never leaving the Plain Doll’s own as he works things out. “And you’re giving me hints so this won’t be boring.”
A soft nod from the Plain Doll is his reply, as he thinks over things. The smile never leaves her face as she watches him carefully.
“They want me to make things… more for the characters in the setting, and others. With whatever happened to me after my divinity came in conflict with my Titanic heritage…” Erik trails off. “It has to do with whatever is going on with my left arm, I’m sure…”
Another nod from the Plain Doll is his reply, before she abruptly smiles. “No experimentation, then?” She queries, carefully.
“Every time I do so, I get another inch or two of conversion from flesh to machine, growing up my arm every 12 seconds, roughly.” Erik admits.
The Plain Doll’s smile finally disappears. “Well, that’s tragic. If you can’t afford experimentation, no wonder you haven’t been able to visit once more!” She states, almost in a huff.
“...Whatever you’re aligned to, it’s a lot less Divine, and more ‘Titanic; in nature, then?” Erik muses aloud, the Plain Doll’s eyes widening in surprise to his statement. “No.” He admits, after a moment, thoughtfully. “It’s not ‘Titanic’ so much as… perhaps foreign?” He states, more firmly. “Those other options you talked about, at my near-miss with death were…”
The Plain Doll hums softly, a somewhat familiar tune, suspiciously like the title theme of Bloodborne, while studying at him, a look of interest there where none was before. Smile back on her face once more, as she listens.
“Unfamiliar, to say the least, barring one interpretation of a Great One.” Erik finishes, thoughtfully. “Would you explain some of them, perhaps?”
For a long moment, the Plain Doll smiles at him, before porcelain fingers move to her lips as she giggles. “So young and innocent, hmm, little Former Godling?”
“Jumping from universe to universe doesn’t exactly give me data about them.” Erik admits. “And the more I get closer to places that can easily power Mordred, the more it feels to my friends like someone or something is hunting us. Not as beasts, like the hunters you’re familiar with are, but…”
The Plain Doll pauses, thoughtfully. “Ah, you haven’t noticed it yet, then. Yes, you do have hunters chasing you. Though their method of conveyance is different from your own.”
Erik closes his eyes, and sighs softly. “Let me guess, this is one of those moments where I don’t get any help, because it’ll be funnier to watch it happen.”
“Didn’t I talk about stirring the pot just a bit ago?” The Plain Doll retorts, her smile never leaving her face. “At least some warning is better than none. And let’s be honest, your group knowing they’re coming will make things more entertaining to watch.”
Erik slowly nods, thinking. “I’m all ears, then.” With those words, he taps on his mechanical left wrist, pulling up the recorder hidden within, and hits record.
“A Princess’ older sister, her machinations for mutual safety have come to a barren harvest.
Their long dead father, poised to resurrect using the empowered Princess.
Armed with a Priest, a Master turned Demi-Servant, and a stick that lets them walk realities?
And more importantly, the power of forgetfulness.
You can’t have forgotten the terror of Jack yet, have you? And even if you have, your wife hasn’t.” The Plain Doll whispers, her smile soft, as she gives a warning.
Hmm. Little wonder he’s on edge, if he’s being hunted like that. Interesting…
Erik goes still, mind furiously working. “A stick means a Kaleidostick, no doubt. A princess’ older sister makes me think of… hmm. Nothing’s coming to mind… but a Master turned Demi-servant?” Erik trails off, then flinches, as realization comes to him.
Then he looks at the Plain Doll. “That fuckingJack the Ripperlived through that?!” Erik blinks, repeatedly. “No, but if parts of the spiritual core did…”
Do please note, my lord, that he’s also on edge because of you as well.
The Plain Doll nods, listening.
“Thank you for even that much.” Erik finally states, quietly.
“Oh, certainly. Unfortunately, that’s all I can offer in aid, except being of general assistance here in this place. Unless you’d like to make a bargain with myself? Or perhaps become a Hunter…?” She replies, smiling a little more widely with her last sentence.
Erik muses, thinking, while glancing at the screen. It shows that his character is still asleep. No other dialogue, yet.
Fair.
“You haven’t gone over those characteristics yet…” Erik trails off, curiously.
The Plain Doll nods, quietly. “I was hoping to not go over such a lengthy subject, shall we say? Here where things are harder. Mostly due to interested parties listening in to every word we speak. Double meanings can be hard, for one such as I.”
“Yet we don’t have any means of communication besides this.” Erik points out, musing.
“Not without you embracing aspects of yourself, at least.” The Plain Doll nods, almost bemusedly. “Unless you’d like to make a bargain? I do miss casual conversation with others so very much. The hunters I serve normally can’t communicate in the Hunter’s Dream so easily…”
“What would you want, with one such as I?” Erik asks, curiously.
The Plain Doll settles down, studying Erik. “Perhaps entertainment? Perhaps a decent source of conversation? A rules lawyer who works with contracts would be careful about such, I’m sure.”
Hmph.
“And what would you offer in return?” Erik asks, voice a little more curious.
“It depends on how often we’re in contact, and if you’re willing to let me be around more often, from trip to trip.” The Plain Doll admits, smiling more widely.
“I still can’t tell if you’re something posing as her, or the actual Plain Doll from Bloodborne…” Erik grumbles.
His confusion is interesting, at least?
“Oh, but I am a doll, meant to aid Hunters.” The Plain Doll retorts, her smile never leaving her face. “And you are the son of one deity that inspires Hunters to hunt.”
Erik pauses, thinking it over. “I never quit my job as a Bounty Hunter… and I did my fair share of hunting in the woods…”
“Did you live the lifestyle enough to count?” The Plain Doll retorts, calmly.
Erik frowns, silently. Then he nods, after a bit. “For a while, for certain.”
True enough, Technician. Though why he’s discussing things with her, I’m still not sure.
“Perhaps, then, something could be done with that.” The Plain Doll admits, thoughtfully.
Erik sighs, thoughtfully. Then, he slowly nods, glancing at the screen once more. “No sign of them trying to wake my character up, so it is paused…” Then Erik closes his eyes, rubbing his temples silently.
The Plain Doll watches him carefully, no emotion except her smile on her face as she does so.
“You wish for a bargain… is it truly that lonely?” Erik asks, thoughtfully.
Most likely to ascertain if she is a threat, Lord Nyarlathotep.
“Here, I am limited.” The Plain Doll admits. “And your preconceptions limit me further, in our methods of communication. If we were to meet more properly, it would be interesting to see what you would perceive me as, wouldn’t it?”
Erik pauses. Eyes slowly turning towards the Plain Doll, as he thinks, furiously.
“...There were interesting theories about Bloodborne’s setting, and you specifically as a character within it.” Erik states aloud, thinking. Eyes never leaving the Plain Doll’s.
“That you may have been an echo of Gehrman’s favorite apprentice, given life by that… Great One of the Moon. Flora.” Erik states, watching, feeling desperately for any senses of power, or anything, to say if he’s right or wrong.
“Oh? Interesting…” The Plain Doll settles back, listening. “Do tell.”
“They noted your doll body in the dream bled white, as the Great Ones all do, in the game. There was a bit of a note of your body outside the dream also moving slightly to look at the player character, as well. The most notable, however, was when Maria, trapped in a ‘Hunter’s Nightmare’ died, leaving you to note that you had changed somehow in an interaction afterwards. As well as you getting teary when given the gift of a comb that Gehrman had made for you, but never given. Or perhaps Maria…?” Erik trails off, thinking. “Others assumed that you were Flora, or some creation of Flora’s.” Erik finally states.
“And being limited by a game, they couldn’t assume otherwise. Interesting, I suppose.” The Plain Doll admits, thoughtfully. “What do you think, former Godling?”
Erik pauses, then finally shrugs. “I’m not sure. So far, you’re benevolent, rather than malevolent. You haven’t said anything to me that feels like an outright lie, as well. Twisting things, or simple omission? Definitely, though that can be explained by what you said about it being hard to communicate, here. But no lies, yet.”
A slow nod from the Plain Doll, as she frowns. “Indeed. I would rather see what you become, than force things on you. Other forces…” She trails off, not needing to say more.
“Like the ones who invited you in to watch over me?” Erik muses aloud. “No need to reply, I already know that answer.”
Smart man.
For a moment, they both sigh, before Erik looks at her, thinking. “You didn’t give anything away when I brought up those theories. Most have… passive tells. Responses. I can’t tell if you’re something posing as the Plain Doll from Bloodborne, or if you’re exactly who you say you are.” Erik admits. Then raises a hand, as he continues, to stop her from speaking, as he continues. “But… you have helped me out every time we’ve met. You’ve given me aid, and tips. What would you like most in a bargain?”
“Though I love hunters, it’s rather hard to communicate with them.” The Plain Doll states, frowning quietly. “It’s occasionally irritating to communicate, only to hear garbled words at best from the bulk of them.”
Erik pauses, mulling through that in his mind, then nods. “You want someone to talk with. Actual communication and companionship. Or friendship perhaps…?”
“All of those do come into play, I’ll admit. Though, sometimes their choices confuse me, too. I can never understand why some might dress up like myself.” The Plain Doll admits, confusion on her face for the first time.
“Maybe to look more like the only nice matronly figure they know at that point? The game literally portrays you as the nice lady they can always come back home to, after all.” Erik muses.
“Why are so many of them men, though?” The Plain Doll muses. “Aren’t dresses for women? Or dolls like myself?”
Erik simply shrugs. “No clue.” Silently, he adds in his thoughts, ‘She’s really good, if she’s a fake, at posing as the real thing. If it was an eldritch abomination, she’d probably be wondering if that meant they wanted to be a Doll like her, too.’ before stretching and glancing at the screen again.
Moments later, he adds further in his mind, ‘With how little they understand humanity, it would probably read like the movie script for that House of Wax film, or its remake. Krampus and his love of horror films, I swear… a greater horror fan, I will never know. Maybe with porcelain instead of wax? Hmm. Probably somethingdisturbing, anyways.’ before musing.
“You’re thinking something odd, aren’t you?” The Plain Doll states, calmly.
“Mostly working things out in my head. And reminiscing over answers that I would think you’d give, if you were something else.” Erik admits. Then sighs, closing his eyes.
“And if I am the real thing, just altered by how you perceive me?” The Plain Doll queries, curiosity now in her voice.
“Then I’d be thanking you for helping all those poor bastards in the Hunter’s Dream.” Erik admits, wryly. “They’d probably be giving you a hug, as well, if they were in my shoes.”
“I’ll accept anything like that at any time, considering I am exactly who I appear to be…” The Plain Doll admits, smile somehow appearing more genuine now.
Erik pauses, looking over at her again. “And how would you take your thanks, then?” Erik asks, playing along.
“Any way you’d like.” The Plain Doll admits, her smile soft.
Erik reaches over, then gently pats her head. “Thanks for being a good mom to so many Hunters.” He states, gently. “If you are truly who you say you are, then you’ve been the mother they need, more than the wife or waifu they want.”
“So this is the fabled headpat…” The Plain Doll murmurs, before her eyes focus on Erik, blinking. “Waifu?”
“An idealized woman that one would love to have as a wife. Their ideal lady. Some of my wife’s slang from home, but fairly accurate.” Erik admits.
A soft nod is his answer, as the Plain Doll nods, lost in thought.
Erik quietly sighs, then closes his eyes, breathing out. Then gently pulls her into an actual hug. “And that’s for helping so many.” Erik finally admits, allowing himself to show kindness for once, to one that might not get it often, or ever.
“Thank you.” The Plain Doll whispers softly.
Hmph. When will they get to the reality warper? This sappiness grows irritating.
“So, instead of questioning, or trying to dance around things… I’ll put it simply. Does anyone you’re linked to have plans for me I should worry about?” Erik asks, curiously. “Not including the one that brought you here.”
“My father, of sorts, would have nothing to do with you. My, shall we say mother, on the other hand, would love to have another as company.” The Plain Doll admits. “Though her influence wanes with such a place as this, to be a bare fraction of what let us last be in contact with each other.”
Erik pauses, blinking repeatedly, then sighs softly. “I see.” Erik admits, finally, looking at her with respect. “Your mom, huh?” Erik muses aloud, then closes his eyes, and breathes out. ‘A Scion, perhaps?’ Erik muses to himself, silently. “No, perhaps not the same as what I was born as.. But even still… much closer to what I once was, than I thought. A being that your divine parent can act through, partially a creation, and partially a child, born of desire.” Erik muses aloud, quietly, low, for her ears, hopefully alone.
The Plain Doll nods, her eyes glimmering with a flash of red moons, but for a moment.
“And the realm you live in, being much like the divine realms I’m used to, as well.” Erik admits, quietly. “Fascinating…”
For a long while, he trails off, thinking, before nodding. “And informative, as well. Do you think your parent would mind trading information with me, then?”
“You’re alive, aren’t you?” The Plain Doll admits, a smile on her face. “I aided you once before, did I not?”
“You did.” Erik admits. “Thus my wondering about things. What would your parent do, with aid from a craftsman like myself? Weakened though I might be…” Erik trails off.
“A hunter needs tools to hunt with, doesn’t he? An aid would be wonderful for such. Or tips, or perhaps weapons made by one such as yourself. But companionship and friendship, most of all, would be valued most. For both mother and I are rather lonely.” The Plain Doll whispers.
I’m not sure our cameras are picking things up right now, boss. They’re rather quiet.
“A bargain, then? A meeting whenever I’m between universes, and it’s safe to do so.” Erik nods. “In whatever ways that are safe for my weakened state to meet her and yourself in.”
“Well bargained and done, Erik Ulricsonr.” The Plain Doll whispers, a smile on her face, as her eyes reflect shining red moons, and her presence grows stronger. For a long moment, the room warps and twists around them, the stew turning red like blood in the now wooden bowl, with a great many things looking at him from it, when he glances it’s way.
For a long moment, Erik breathes out, before he looks at her, eyes shifting for a long moment.
‘No weaknesses on her’, his mind screams, as he looks for the first time.
‘A great many tentacled limbs around her, and no weaknesses!’ his mind screams again, when he looks, this time his gaze steady. Ignoring the gaze of dozens, if not thousands or millions lesser beings watching him. All the others surveying his every movement and action.
He’s figured something out that I haven’t? Curious…
Then he breathes out, as his eyes shift to normal once more.
“Was that enough to prove what I am?” The Plain Doll asks, curiosity in her voice.
“Indeed, it was.” Erik admits, after a while. “You and her are dangerous.” Erik finally admits. “In your own ways, at least. But an ally in a situation like this…” Erik trails off, quietly, thinking to himself. ‘Even if my goggles, then eyes have adjusted from ‘Death Perception’ to ‘Weakness Perception’, over the years due to my divinity being of 'crafting' rather than 'death' like the death goddess' mirror they came from, they’re still helpful in their own way. But there’s no weaknesses for her, at all. No sign of anything. How the fuck?’
“It’s hard to ignore, isn’t it? Friendship freely offered, as much as can be.” The Plain Doll murmurs.
Erik nods, quietly. “Bargained well and done, then. I’ll anticipate meeting yourself and your divine parent in other trips between universes, if it’s doable. Maybe we’d be able to get some things nailed down for differences of what I was before, and what I’ve become.”
“Without viable experimentation, it makes sense for such things.” The Plain Doll admits, thoughtfully. “Though do you not have allies of your own?”
“And the more I jump close to certain universes, the more it feels like an itch running down my back. Of something, or someone hunting me.” Erik admits, rebutting her. Then sighs, looking back at the game.
“Back to the game, before the dangerous ones decide to force things?” The Plain Doll asks, curiously.
“Indeed.” Erik muses. “And with the weirdness… I wouldn’t mind suggestions on how to take them out of the game if they become more able to interact with this place.”
The Plain Doll blinks, then giggles softly. “A harem, perhaps?”
“Monika would be cute with Scylla, if nothing else.” Erik grins softly. “And I’ve learned to be a one woman man, with my wife and her Polygamist Castration Fist technique, and pointed talking about how wanting to help more women leads to harems, and harems leads to her castrating people that cheat on her with it.”
Huh. He’s… legitimately thinking about going about it, if he gets the first batch, then?
The Plain Doll outright blinks repeatedly at Erik for a long while. “I’m not sure how to take that.”
Erik nods, turning back to the screen and clicking on next.
Then sighs at the screen showing a bright “30 minutes of time before other occupants awaken in the house”.
“Well, they’re on actual sleep timers, now. Let’s see what can be done, then… ah. A nice big meal made for them, for when they wake up.” Erik muses. “And since what’s cooked in game is cooked outside of it, is there anything you’d want me to make for you as well, oh Doll that helps Hunters?”
The Plain Doll blinks, then smiles for once. “Perhaps a pastry? I’ve heard hunters murmuring about such…”
“Japanese, American, or a surprise?” Erik queries.
“A surprise, I think.” She admits.
Erik nods, then starts to cook in game, listening to the items in the kitchen working in unison with him. “Something tasty and relatively easy to make… an apple fritter, I think. Mochi is right out with the work, and most japanese snacks are a bitch to recreate. Pocky, especially.” He murmurs aloud as he cooks.
Omake (Because I couldn’t get this scene out of my head, even though I’m definitely not writing it as canon. PERIOD.):
Erik stares up at the figure of Nyarlathotep, as he descends, the Plain Doll by his side, and the figures of the Doki Doki Literature Club that he managed to save, behind him.
“Since you’ve been playing a visual novel, and working to rescue the characters? I’m sure you’ll get this reference. You have unlocked the Eldritch Waifu route with the Plain Doll. Now, all we have to do is see you married to her, and we shall welcome you as one of our own!” Nyarlathotep states, eldritch grin on his face never leaving him. The Eldritch being appears like a black human, utterly hairless, but something is wrong with him and his looks.
Erik looks back at the girls hiding behind him, then at the Plain Doll beside him, before looking up at the eldritch abomination floating before them.
“No.” Erik states, firmly.
“No?” Nyarlathotep blinks, confused.
“I said that, didn’t I? That’s my answer.” Erik states, firmly.
“Why, pray tell, are you acting like you have the right to refuse me? This isn’t a statement, this is what is about to happen.” Nyarlathotep asks, looking unamused.
“My wife.” Erik states, calmly. “That’s why I said no.”
“I’m sure that we could convince her to listen to reason, and have you as a member of our pantheon, of sorts.” Nyarlathotep states. “Now, about that wedding…”
Erik just facepalms. “My wife developed a spell or curse called ‘Polygamist Castration Fist.’. It’s not happening.”
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NzqyPdG8stw (for an example thereof)
Nyarlathotep pauses. “And why, exactly, do you worry about such a spell?”
“She figured out how to use it to deal with people without ever meeting them. It’s like that ‘Punching someone through the internet’ superpower that all people that deal with the internet and social media wish for, but never get.” Erik states.
Nyarlathotep raises an eyebrow.
“It’s all fun and games until she went and used it to castrate Zeus for coming onto her too strongly.” Erik states. “And considering he was in the most warded room in existence, and he still lost one of his balls?”
Nyarlathotep pauses, considering it. Then he smirks. “She’s not here, now, is she?”
Moments later after feeling three brutal kicks in the worst spot imaginable, with no obvious source? Nyarlathotep screams in utter agony, then whimpers and clutches at his crotch.
“I warned you, didn’t I? She also has a sixth sense for people trying to get me to cheat on her, and dealing with them.” Erik states. “Now, where’s the exit for us? Keep in mind, if you lie, I’ll just get her to use that spell until you change your mind… I’m sure an eldritch thing like yourself has plenty of skills for regeneration…” He adds in, menacingly.
“You win…” Nyarlathotep weakly croaks out, then points, and an exit sign appears moments later.
“Thank you!” Erik smiles, leaving, the others following him out.
Omake Author’s Notes:
Yeah. I just had a thought of “What if Tamamo was just a bit more terrifying to deal with?” and had the urge to write.
https://www.reddit.com/r/grandorder/...ist_explained/ has a better explanation of Polygamist Castration Fist than I ever could give, too. Suffice to say the Scion version of Tamamo figured out how to do hers at range with this omake. Thankfully, it’s just the Omake… Or IS it…?
Author’s Notes:
So. I had a bit of this written up for quite a few months now. About the first 4 pages. But I shelved it, because I wasn’t sure how the “Flora” and “Plain Doll” relationship worked back then, and hadn’t decided to go the way I did in that interlude between Archer and both The Plain Doll as well as Flora. This should clear things up a bit, as well.
Between Halloween and where the campaign is going for poor Kieran, and my camping buddy, though? I thought I’d take some time to write up more in between writing huge amounts of news reports, rolling for how the world is taking things, and so on and so forth.
Somehow space elves wearing eldritch abomination power armor and piloting biological/eldritch mecha, invading the earth because their home planet’s biosphere got screwed over, makes for an interesting campaign. Especially with all the random events they keep getting due to plot reasons they haven’t figured out quite yet…
I fully blame Kieran for that, and his throwing “Camp Crystal Lake” at me and the others in the gaming group last year for the Werewolf the Apocalypse game, for some of the messes I’ve been throwing at him to think over, and he’s yet to realize are brewing.
His surprise at the Voodoo Psionic Necromantic Plague that popped up in the campaign friday, when he proofread things, was just icing on the cake. “Have you been playing Resident Evil Five lately? This is suddenly reminding me of Resident Evil Five…” mwahaha.