At the end of everything, hold onto anything.

''MILES: start from the beginning'' Your wiry frame is chilled to the bone as you step through the "Faro gate" into "the Limbs", whatever //that's// supposed to mean. You're not entirely sure where you are, but you're confident yo (text-color:#f7db68)+(hover-style:(text-color:#f5e398))[But that's not where the story //really// starts, right?] [[NICOLE: play tape|tape]]

Your name is ''PHOENIX MIDDLEBROOK'', however, people insist on calling you ''NICOLE''. It //used// to be your name, but you are in the process of reforging yourself in your OWN IMAGE. You have taken your name from one of your favorite characters, PHOENIX VIRTUE from the AMAZING AGENT series of games. Getting off your stuffed animal-covered bed, you stretch, looking around your room. (click:"room")[Posters cover the walls for various things(cycling-link:"- Your Periodic Affair","- Crash In Girl","- A faded poster for the Twisted tour","- the Valley Sheep","- The Back Tops","- Videofeet",""). There's a large window on the left side of your room, leading outside, yet you undertook the task of hanging blackout curtains on it. You don't like harsh bright light much, which is rather ironic, considering your [[situation|expositiondump]]. You have a COMPUTER in the corner, and you can hear the notification pings go off. Your DOG, Ronnie, is lying down on the floor. Someone is trying to call you outside of your BEDROOM DOOR, and they seem rather agitated. [[PHOENIX: check messages|computer]] [[PHOENIX: pet the dog|dog]] [[PHOENIX: open the door|door]]]

You stand before your dog, a golden retriever. She stares up at you, her tongue hanging out of her mouth. Crouching down, you move to pet your dog. [[PHOENIX: get on your feet|homestuck reference]]

(text-color:#f5e8b8)[//"Nicole, get out here.//"] You sigh. You've been dreading this moment. (text-color:#9f86c0)[[["Yeah, sure."|yes]]] (text-color:#9f86c0)[[["Give me a minute."|wait]]] (text-color:#9f86c0)[[[You stay silent.|quiet]]]

(text-size:1.5)[''BLURRED PHOTOGRAPHS''] //or, an incomplete and contradictory history of miles duende, his trials and tribulations// (subtitle taken from ''ENCORE'', an album by //the garages//) made by ''``flowers_chaos``'' (visited:"dog")[''GOOD GIRL'' - You pet the dog.] (visited:"woof")[''WOOF BARK ARF'' - You //became// the dog.] (visited:"computer")[''PESTERED!'' - You read a chatlog.] (visited:"woof")(visited:"roommate")[''LILAC COMPANION'' - You found the librarian!] (visited:"funny reference")[''BUG GUY'' - Tag your friends to totally Legerdemain them!] (visited:"quiet")(visited:"hush")[''SHH...'' - When given the option, you stayed quiet.] (visited:"hide")[''ACTIVE EMPOWERMENT USAGE'' - You hid in an unorthodox way.] (visited:"move")[''L1 DAMAGE'' - Despite your sprained ankle, you pressed onwards. That's gonna hurt in the morning.] (visited:"pain")(visited:"char")(visited:"zone")[''THIS IS LIKE AMAZING AGENT'' - You thought for a minute.] (visited:"oh god its him")[''DEEP CLEAN'' - The //nerve// of some people.] Not seeing anything? Here are some hints - 1. You know that Twitter account about video game animals? 2. It's too loud in here. 3. *Discord notification sound. Discord notification sound. Disco-* 4. I call this one "''Bold'' and Brash." 5. Troubled dreams... 6. Shh.. I heard Midas is around. 7. //"Snake? Snake!? SNAAAAKE!!"// 8. You think some minor pain can stop me? 9. Ace Attorney, The First Turnabout - //"The murder weapon was this statue of 'The Thinker.'"// 10. What's that apartment complex called again? [[REWIND TAPE.|start]]

(text-color:#f5e8b8)[//"Nicole, get out here."//] You sigh. You've been dreading this moment. ''(text-color:#9f86c0)["Yeah, sure."]'' You open the door, [[moving out of your room|outside]].

(text-color:#f5e8b8)[//"Nicole, get out here."//] You sigh. You've been dreading this moment. You stay quiet. You can hear her anger rising. (text-color:#f5e8b8)[//"Nicole. I'm going to come in there and I'm going to break that computer of yours. GET OUT HERE."//] ... Of course. Reluctantly, you [[shuffle outside of your room|outside]].

(text-color:#f5e8b8)[//"Nicole, get out here."//] You sigh. You've been dreading this moment. (text-color:#9f86c0)[''"Give me a minute."''] You dawdle as long as you can, but you can hear her sounds of impatience. Finally, you work up the courage to [[go outside your room|outside]].

She looks dissatisfied at your appearance. Not //just// in the physical sense, in the "I'm mad you're in my house" sense, however it's just one of the many looks you're used to by now. You have that pang of yearning for something again. (text-color:#9f86c0)[''"Can I help you?"''] (text-color:#f5e8b8)[//"I ''need'' you to get your sorry self sorry for your party tonight."//] Oh ''no''. You'd completely forgotten your birthday party was tonight. And not just any birthday party, specifically your sixteenth. You have been dreading this party since she first brought it up. [[PHOENIX: have a flashback|flashback]]

You sit down at the kitchen island, idly scrolling on your phone. (text-color:#f5e8b8)[//"Nicole, you know what's coming up soon, right?"//] You pause, looking at your phone's calendar. The current date is ''November 11th, 2030''. Oh no. Oh god. You know exactly what she's talking about and it didn't even hit you until now. Your name is ''PHOENIX MIDDLEBROOK'', and you are 15 years old, coming up on 16. You are terrified of what your mother is going to do for your party. You've been dreading it for a lot longer than you realize. (text-color:#9f86c0)[''"... my birthday?"''] (text-color:#f5e8b8)[//"Yes. You can't screw this up like usual, alright? This is the biggest moment of your life, besides your high school graduation. Everything needs to be perfect."//] //But what if we were to look at that date, at a different point in time?// [[MILES: go to the dive bar|flashforward]]

Your name is MILES DUENDE(mouseover:"MILES DUENDE")[, also known as "(text-color:#2686C9)[`[shadowscall]`]"]. The date is NOVEMBER 11TH, 2035, according to your NIC. *(text-colour:transparent)+(hover-style:(text-color:blue))[''Neural Interface Computer''] As it stands, you are standing in the ''LITTLE LONDON'' district of the ''YUKON CONTAINMENT ZONE'', where you are imprisoned for the sole reason of having the ability to hide better in the dark. Kind of scuffed, but okay. You are standing, specifically, a bit outside of a dive bar, waiting for your friend to show up. He did //bring// you here, but he went to do... something. Despite this being a casual meetup, you, personally, are here to celebrate something specific. //''You made it.''// You survived to the point where you could finally get the medical procedures you've needed to for YEARS. And you are ''(text-color:#5BCEFA)[happier] (text-color:#FFFFFF)[than] (text-color:#F5A9B8)[ever]''. [[MILES: go inside|dive]] [[MILES: think|think]]

The bar is violently bathed in neon red light. Your eyes twitch, as you slowly move to your seat. There is a person seated next to you, chatting with someone else you vaguely know, talking about something. They both look at you, beginning to start a conversation with you about instruments, hopes, dreams, what you want to do now that you're living in the Zone, et cetera. Your friend sits, near you. You realize he still hasn't taken that stupid helmet off. You need to ask him about it [[later|teehee]].

You stop for a moment, cracking your knuckles. You take the flannel jacket on your waist, untie it, and put it on yourself. Stopped in this moment of reflection, several topics form in your mind. ''What do you want to think about?'' [[My friend.|char]] [[My situation.|zone]] [[A similar situation, a different time, a different place.|rave]]

Your friend. A mercenary, to be exact. To be fairly honest, you don't know... a lot about him. However, you do know you //are// glad that he brought you along to this. [[Where //is// he, anyways?|flashforward]] [[MILES: continue ruminating on things|think]]

You have been in the ''Zone'' for a bit under a month, coming here at September's tail end. You remember being (cycling-link:"scared of everything, terrified for your life and safety", "colder than you've ever known", "alone in the light"). And, yet, in under a month, you've found //friends//. People you can lean on when you need help. Somehow. Huh. [[That's enough for now.|flashforward]] [[I wanna think some more.|think]]

Your name is ''MILES''. Don't worry about the last name. You're sitting in the corner of a party that hurts your (text-color:white)[[[ears|woof]]]. You're waiting for your friend, (text-color:#F4C78D)[Persephone], to get the two of you food. She's why you're here. At the party. She wanted to go, and, while you historically hate loud ragers, you showed up. Because you knew it'd make her feel better. ... Because, well, earlier today... [[Something... unpleasant happened.|uh oh]]

''//MEANWHILE, MONTHS IN THE FUTURE...//'' She looks at you. Blinking. (text-color:#C8A2C8)[//"... Miles."//] (text-color:#5e548e)[''"... Did it, uh..."''] (text-color:#C8A2C8)[//"The ears? Yes. They're there."//] Twitch. Twitch. You wince. It feels like somebody turned the threshold of your hearing's noise gate //allll// the way down. You can hear pretty much everything now. [[Wait, no, go back.|rave]]

A college bake sale. That's all it took. One very snobby cousin, a batch of overpriced undercooked cupcakes, and a very overstressed manager at his brink was all it took for your life to be thrown off the loose rails you were slowly building. ... You feel awful. You know exactly what's coming. Persephone comes back over, and her face... her face drops. Your stomach turns. (text-color:#F4C78D)[(text-style:"blurrier")["... Phoe- Sorry, Miles, you... You don't look too good. I... I think you should go, I'm worried about you."]] (text-color:#9f86c0)[(text-style:"subscript")[''"i'm sorry."'']] (text-color:#F4C78D)[(text-style:"blurrier")["... What?"]] Your eyes become glossy as you can feel pearls of salt start to run down your face. (text-color:#9f86c0)[(text-style:"subscript")[''"oh, god, i'm sorry."'']] [[... Maybe you should go visit someone.|pain]]

(text-color:#6f779e)[''"Forgive me, what... what do you go by these days?"''] (text-color:#9f86c0)[''"Oh. Miles."''] (text-color:#6f779e)[''"Okay. Well, Miles... I'm sorry. I'm sorry that there's nothing that can be done about this."''] (text-color:#9f86c0)[''"It's okay, dad. I'll... I'll figure out what to do."''] (text-color:#6f779e)[''"Mhm. No matter what happens. Promise me you'll keep your head up high."''] You start crying again. He gets up to get... something. (text-color:#9f86c0)[''"I.. Yeah."''] It's a flannel jacket. (text-color:#6f779e)[''"Found this in my closet. I feel like you should... have this."''] You nod, silently, holding the jacket to you. Close. (text-color:#6f779e)[''"Okay. Goodbye, Miles. Good luck."''] (text-color:#9f86c0)[''"G-Goodbye, dad. I love you."''] [[... Okay. That's... that's enough thinking.|flashforward]] [[I... I want to think about something else.|think]]

(text-style:"smear")[''Hostile white lights''] pierce your already suffering eyes as you shuffle into the center of the room, shakily holding a set of index cards. (text-style:"italic","strike","subscript")+(text-color:#9f86c0)[''make me be anywhere else please god''] You cough. An array of distant relatives surrounds you. You, ''(text-style:"strike")[NICO] PHOENIX'', are trapped. Time is ticking. You //might// just be able to get out of here, not without punishment, of course, but if you make your moves in just the right order, you might have a moment of silence. Of solace. [[Just follow the cards, Phoenix.|follow-orders]] [[Don't say anything.|hush]] [[Make a break for it.|run-like-hell]]

You don't say anything. You stand at the microphone, but you don't say anything. Emma moves over towards you, and starts to speak, in your place. It seems she expected this. You can't remember her speech. It's a bit of a blur. Most of the party is, actually. You [[lumber back to your bedroom|room-2]], tired and worn out.

//''No.''// You're not going to just sit here and take this. You've got to run. And you do. You trip on your ankle, and whelp in pain. And yet. You keep moving. Your body's pleading with you to stop, your brain screams to get away, and your heart's beating faster than it has in a while. ''Who do you listen to?'' [[The body.|hide]] Take a moment to hide. [[The mind.|move]] Keep going, Phoenix. The heart. Track your pulse. (click:"The heart.")[THU-THU-THUMP. THU-THU-THUMP. THU-THU-THUMP.]

You take a deep breath in, and grab the microphone. Your hands (text-style:"rumble")[shake] near uncontrollably. You look up and see the piercing gaze of your mother, glaring at you. You can almost hear her saying: //"Nicole, you're making me look bad. Get it over with."// Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Your breathing grows more rapid, delapidated. Try your best to calm yourself down. Read the cards. (click:"Read the cards")[''The cards fall out of your (text-style:"shudder")[shaking] hands, falling onto the floor like the petals of a wilted rose.'' (text-style:"italic","strike","subscript")+(text-color:#9f86c0)[''no NO NO NO NONONONO''] Emma stares at you, mouth agape. She //rushes// over to where you're standing, grabbing the microphone. (text-color:#f5e8b8)[//"''Forgive me'' for my daughter's... strange acts. I assume she must be getting some ''stage fright'', hm?"//] She looks at you, clearly offended. You can't remember the next few hours well. It's a blur of unpleasant sights. [[Finally, you're allowed to go back to your room.|room-2]]

//Finally.// This horrible day is over. You change into a black tank-top and similarly colored shorts, sighing. What do you do? [[Do some before-bed reading.|funny reference]] [[Look in the mirror.|mirror]] (text-color:#9f86c0)(cycling-link:"NICOLE","PHOENIX","NICK","MILES")[[: go to bed.|intro]]

You keep limping, hopping. Your leg hurts so bad. Someone's in the... No. Emma's in the hallway. Looking at you. She looks... mad. Pretty mad. You can't remember the next hour. [[PHOENIX: trudge to your room|room-2]]

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. You put your back to the wall, and close your eyes. There's a (text-colour:#3e3c44)[(text-style:"smear","fade-in-out")[tingling sensation]] in your fingers and toes, crawling along your forearms and calves, until it's all over your body. One of your few ways to defend yourself from the pain of this... facade of happiness, as you've decided to refer to it as. (text-color:white)[[[You can't wait to get out of here.|roommate]]] You hear people talking. Somebody's yelling. It's all a blur. Soon enough, the lights in the house dim. ... Emma passes the hallway, looking defeated. It's a look you don't think you've ever seen. But it's not a look that you particularly... feel bad about. [[PHOENIX: slink back to your room under the cover of darkness|room-2]]

''//AGAIN, MONTHS IN THE FUTURE...//'' Now familiar with the Faro gate, you look at... a very oddly-dressed woman. She looks confused. The least you can do is help her out. You talk for a while, and eventually, somehow, convince her to come to your apartment. //Right.// This is what trying to make friends is like, despite being... rather unorthodox. (text-color:#C8A2C8)[//"So."//] (text-color:#5e548e)[''"So."''] (text-color:#C8A2C8)[//"This is a fine place... Ah. What is your name, again?"//] (text-color:#5e548e)[''"Oh, Miles Duende-Yasuhira."''] (text-color:#C8A2C8)[//"Mm. It could use some improvement, but... this place is fine, Duende."//] (text-color:#5e548e)[''"Thank... Thank you?"''] [[Back to the rat race, though.|hide]]

You go over to your bed, sitting down, grabbing your tablet. You scroll through the literary works you've collected, choosing a random one. (text-colour:#69350b)[(text-style:"emboss")[//"As Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams, he found himself transformed into a gigantic insect. He was lying on his hard, as it were armor-plated, back and when he lifted his head a little he could see his domelike brown belly divided into stiff arched segments..."//]] Of course. You always did like this story. [[Get up, and go look in the mirror.|mirror]] [[Get under the covers, and go to bed. Hopefully your dreams won't be as uneasy.|intro]]

You shuffle to your full-size mirror near the door of your (regrettably walk-in) closet. You've never really taken the time to look at yourself in a bit. You are (cycling-link:"scrawny and short, and incredibly uncomfortable with it","in your father's flannel, wearing a dyed-brown undercut","a guy with wolf ears (don't ask), happy in your body. For once"). Mm. [[Do some before-bed reading.|funny reference]] [[Step away from the mirror.|room-2]]

It's quite //ironic// because you, and your mother, and you can assume the rest of your maternal family, have a certain genetic issue that allow you to ''manipulate light itself'', in a sense. Your mother uses it to start fires, you use it to create constructs. The two of you are aware that, if this ability is ever to be shown to the public, one day you will up and disappear, never to be seen again. You know that this is the only threat to your mother, as not all of the money in the world could stop.. whoever it is that enforces this. Whenever you think about this fact of your existence, you feel (either: "terrified","sick to your stomach","the crushing non-importance of your life","empty"). [[back|homestuck reference]]

You move over to the computer, and go to check your messages. (b4r:"dashed")+(b4r-size:1)+(b4r-colour:white)[(font:'Courier New')[''TEXT LOG [(text-color:#9f86c0)[phantasm: good god, i'm here] (text-color:#F4C78D)[dialupbag: not //my// fault you get up so late. what r u doin] (text-color:#9f86c0)[phantasm: uh, trying to wake up properly?] (text-color:#F4C78D)[dialupbag: damn you werent awake at the crack of dawn? ngl kinda cringe] (text-color:#9f86c0)[phantasm: you know i'm a heavy sleeper. `:[`] (text-color:#F4C78D)[dialupbag: sure buddy. suuuure. well i will leave you to whatever it is ur up 2] (text-color:#9f86c0)[phantasm: thanks, perse] (text-color:#F4C78D)[dialupbag: dont mention it. u still owe me tho] (text-color:#9f86c0)[phantasm: you're never gonna shut up about that, huh?]]'']] //... She never did.// [[PHOENIX: log off|homestuck reference]]

A few months later, you'd finally gotten a place at The High, apartment 109. You don't know //who// the previous tenant was, or why they left everything they had, but, alas. You used the cat tower left there as a sort of home for your pet moff, Combs. Right, Combs. It's hard to particularly explain //what// they are, although on paper, it's simple. A housecat-sized moth. What that description fails to entail, however, is all of the being's odd quirks, such as (cycling-link:"enjoying the sounds mechanical keyboards make","being partial to bossa nova music","refusing to leave your side, even when it might endanger them"). Speaking of a few months later, it doesn't really matter //who// it was, but you'd let somebody stay at your apartment. As you walked close to your apartment, however, you started to hear a... strange sound. (text-color:#5e548e)[''"The hell is that?"''] [[MILES: go inside|oh god its him]]

//Knock, knock, knock.// You unlocked your apartment, with the password you'd had, since... //well//... (1-1-3-6), to find. Him. Sitting on your couch. With the walls //''covered''// in ice cream. Every. God damn. Flavor. (text-color:#5e548e)[''"What the hell?''] (text-color:gray)["Okay, look, I know it looks bad, but it was an accident."] (text-color:#5e548e)[''"An accident? An //accident//? There's ice cream behind the damn //fridge//, how in god's name is that //accidental//?"''] (text-color:#5e548e)[''"No, no, no. You. You listen to me and you listen well."''] (text-color:gray)["What's your issue?"] (text-color:#5e548e)[''"WHAT'S MY //ISSUE//? OH, I DON'T KNOW, THE CLEANING COSTS!?'''] (text-color:gray)["Not my problem. You clean it up."] (text-color:#5e548e)[''"GET OUT OF MY GOD DAMN APARTMENT. YOU KNOW WHAT? NO. THE NEXT TIME I SEE YOU IN THIS PLACE? IT'S ON //SIGHT//."''] You slam the door in his face, groaning. It's going to be a //miserable// next few hours. [[back|teehee]]

Give it a few hours, and the two of you have finally made it back to the Limbs, walking towards the apartment building you vaguely know (besides, y'know, the giant neon sign outfront) as (text-color:white)[[[The High|iced cream]]] to fix your sprained ankle. To make an incredibly long and convoluted story short, you'd fell off a rock. Later, on a soft couch in a dark room overlooking the district, as rain pours down, you take a moment to think. Think about the last time you had a "party", as the mercenary had described your outing. ... It's not a time you remember fondly. [[PHOENIX: worry|party]]