corruption au meme

[kbcctv]

CORRUPTION AU MEME

The Sword Army pursues the Retrograding Army through history, encountering familiar settings and reliving old memories. Though strong, with every change in time and setting, the swords dread the old memories. As they fight to preserve history as it is meant to be, the Sword Army must steel their hearts and resist temptation lest they come to fight themselves…

A popular fan theory is that the enemy swords you fight are actually your swords from an alternate universe who wished to change history. For this meme, feel free to make up your own starters or use one of the prompts below. Remember to state if your character is corrupted, not, or if you have no preference.

PROMPT IDEAS 1. How could you let this happen? They wanted to be left alone, their mood was poor, and maybe you should have noticed the signs but now that you have, it’s too late. They can’t stop these thoughts in their head and something in their soul has turned dark and ugly. Is it too late? Maybe you can get through to them… if not, are you ready to draw your sword? 2. Possession. Even the smallest trace of doubt can attract them— evil spirits. Once the dark spirit has latched on to your soul, it takes over and consumes you. Maybe the possession is gradual or maybe it happens suddenly. All you know is that everyone has regrets and anyone can doubt… this could happen to anyone. 3. Cry Wolf. We fought the same battles and shared the same meals together so it was only natural that we would be considered allies and friends. The fateful moment approaches and suddenly it is revealed: One of you is not a true friend. There is a traitor among you. 4. Becoming your own enemy. Your mission is to go back in time and let things happen as they were meant to be but their fall into despair was never supposed to happen, right? And so you went back in time to prevent their misfortunes but you keep failing again and again until, this time, you think you’ve got it. This time, you’ll be able to save your friend - but will you be able to save yourself too? 5. Reborn again. When destroyed in battle, the sword disappears only to return again anew. You can’t choose the fate you’re born with though and this time, someone has returned… from the wrong side.

INSPIRATIONS There are some corruption fanart floating around Pixiv, as well as a FST made by Aki (fletrir). Other canons with similar themes to this meme are first and foremost Puella Magi Madoka Magica, as well as Shin Megami Tensei and other demonic-theme heavy series.

Original premise and coding was done by eskimo, image taken from here.

Comments

OTA, corrupted

[candlecutterpikachu]

It's not easy to focus when there's a flower coming out of your eye.

He knows what they are. Higanbana, flowers of the beyond - red spider lilies, symbols of death. And it disturbs him, how they just manage to appear in the fields during sorties, dancing in the iron-tinged breeze. There were never many of them, perhaps just a single bloom amongst a sea of green, but still there nevertheless.

(Who knows? They might be alive, too - spirits of the dead shadowing his every move, red as the blood of iron in his veins and the blood of humans on his hands. He would believe it, for he is no different - a being borne of an object infused with the hopes and thoughts of man.)

The humans said that if these flowers bloom along the road, you would meet someone that would be parted from you for ever. And he's wondered why, of who he would lose - but things seemed to be fine, were fine, would be fine. Everyone was happy, or as happy as they could be. Many of them carried emotional weight of their own, but the sword spirits had each other. Old comrades, new friends, support. Happiness. Until he realizes that they were not the ones he would lose. The one that would be lost... was himself.

Why else would he be given a second life in an imperfect form? The right side of his vision was darkened for ever, a maligned scar in its place. He had thought little of it, pushing it aside to devote himself to duty. An eye is a small price to pay for a second life, after all - but Death is a stern gatekeeper, especially if your kind has been cheating him out of his pay. Even demons have souls.

He doesn't even notice it, actually, not when he intentionally hides his scars. So it is only when the lily blooms that he is forced to take note - because the blackened half of his sight is now interspersed with red streaks. Is it a day off? Perhaps, most likely, because it's what he had written on the planner pinned to his wall. One stroke of luck, then, as he raises one hand to his face, feeling the sickeningly soft petals of treachery.

You might come to his room asking for him, because it's already nine in the morning and nothing has been done - a swift sign that something is definitely wrong. Or you may come across the trail of blood left across wooden floors, leading out from the swords' quarters and out into the fields. The bloodstains only get larger, because a sword is capable of bleeding far, far more than a human can. It ends only at the river that curves past the Citadel, where a certain familiar form can be seen, a red spider lily drenched in blood and tossed carelessly into the grass beside him.

(You can't see his face.)

> Approach?

[birthmarkless]

Something was off from Mitsutada. So damn off. A lot of them would probably say the same thing. Although not a single one of them confronted the said tachi directly to ask him that. That was, fortunately, not Ookurikara's modus operandi. He hated beating around the bush. There was literally no point in doing so. He was always blunt and harshly straightforward when it came to those who he paid attention for; Saniwa, Tsurumaru, and of course, Shokudaikiri Mitsutada. Today is not going to be any different.

And that's why the first thing in the morning, Ookurikara is going to visit his best friend's room. As he slides the door open, he is still able to see him sitting there, his back against him. Figures.

However, the aura around Mitsutada is already making him cautious enough to not to make another step inside the room. Usually, Mitsutada would still give the friendly vibe even in the darkest mood. Usually. At least until yesterday. Because right now, Mitsutada is giving one of the venomous atmosphere that he have ever come against. 'Something off' will not cut it out anymore, that is the understatement of the century. Crossing his arms, he leans warily around the door, watching the other Date sword for any sign of movement.

"Who are you and what have you done to-" There's no one around and such, there's no need to set the bar low. "-my friend Shokudaikiri Mitsutada?"

When Ookurikara puts 'friend' with a full name, you know that he's actually worried sick.

[candlecutterpikachu]

Mitsutada jumps.

He jumps noticeably, because it is only when Ookurikara speaks that he realizes someone had come in. He gets up and turns around, perhaps all too quickly - slamming one hand against the flower that bloomed in place of his mutilated right eye. And it hurts, because for some stupid goddamned reason the flower actually linked itself to him, and he can feel through every inch of its surface.

Just... fuck. Fuck this.

"Kuri-kun?" He doesn't even have the energy to try and pretend that this is fine. Where does he even begin to explain?

He doesn't want to. He doesn't want to even entertain the thought of breaking down in front of his best friend, because he wants - no, needs to be strong, to smile in the face of adversity for them both. Ookurikara even used the word 'friend', and he knows exactly how much that meant. But how can he even do that, when he is turning into one of them? Does he even have the right to do it?

"I... need you to help me... with... something."

At least he could force that sentence out of his throat.

[birthmarkless]

What.

What in the world is going on.

As fire-forged friends, they have went through a lot together, and they have seen the best and the worst of each other. But the worst of Mitsutada that he witnessed before doesn't seem to be even close to this one. His best friend have never sounded so... pathetic. Ookurikara have never thought even once in his life that he's going to actually to live to see the day where Mitsutada comes pleading at him this desperately.

He does a double take at the other tachi, opening his own mouth, closing it silently, before finalizing it by opening it once again to speak. He still tries to sound as if he's not worried, although whether the other person is going to interpret it like him is another case altogether.

"...Yeah, it's me. Just say what is it."

There's a fine line between a laughable matter and not, and this one is clearly the one that Ookurikara will never approve. If he can help his partner out of this predicament in any way possible, he will definitely try.

[candlecutterpikachu]

He doesn't want to say it.

He doesn't want to, because it's about ten different layers of wrong; falling past embarrassment, awkwardness, then discomfort, straight into the pitch-black abyss of things that were cruel and filled with despair. It's all wrong, and he's painfully aware of it, even more aware than he is of the insidious infection blooming in his ruined eye. And it isn't just because he is at his most pathetic in possibly the entire seven centuries that he had lived - because this isn't about himself, ultimately. What brought him the most pain is having to subject his partner to seeing him in such a state.

It just wasn't supposed to be, wasn't meant to be. Life is never fair, and his friend drew the short end of the stick several times. He knows more than anyone else about what made Ookurikara the withdrawn and unhappy person he is now, and he had stayed by his partner's side all this while - because even if they can't change the past, they could always change the future. And he's tried, over all these years, to make it one where his friend could live better, because it's just the least that the other deserves.

To take all this away now, in the most painful way possible, it's just plain downright cruel. Because he knows he's tainted beyond saving now, feeling the sickly sweet perfume of the lilies not in the surrounding air but inside in his mind. The only thing left for him to do now would be to pass into the darkness for a second, final time ... he doesn't know if he can do it himself. And yet, he also can't bear to ask his best friend to do it, because what hurts more than having corruption eat away at your sanity is to be forced to watch a dear friend fall to its insidious grip.

Then again, Ookurikara is the only person he can possibly trust this with. Because he knows no one else will do a better job than the other tachi would.

"You know what this is...?"

It's more of a request for confirmation than an actual question. Slowly, he lowers his hand, revealing the flower taking root in his mutilated eye. And he doesn't say any more, because he knows the other would understand even without prompting.

But it doesn't make the pain any less acute.

[birthmarkless]

Even if only barely, there was a tint of hope in Ookurikara's train of thought that Mitsutada was trying to pull some sick prank a la Tsurumaru, considering how much the three of them had bonded together. Sure, he'd hate him so much for pulling such surprise, but honestly, he would kill an entire platoon of those historical revisionists by himself just for that to come out true.

The ticking of the clock pauses. The sands of time stops. The cube of time is breaking. Everything seems to be put on halt.

What's happening right in front of his face is shattering everything about Ookurikara. As in literally everything; physically, mentally, and emotionally. Any sign and prospect of staying composed quickly left the inside of his brain as his eyes scans over for what in the world is happening behind Mitsutada's face. In fact, thanks to what he's witnessing, he can't even bring himself to put any strength in his legs as he falls to his knee. Rather unceremonious of him to show that kind of weak action. But such thing matters not to him at the moment.

Mitsutada... Mitsutada is... His best friend is...

"...How...?"

His take on his tone is not that different that the other tachi's. A confirmation, or at least a short explanation of this... He's going to appreciate them. A lot. Lest the tachi with the dragon carving will never be able to understand, let alone accept what is he looking at.

This is not happening.

quietly ninjas this in...

[hoasen]

[ The ones who survive the flows of history come out intact. They say that a human who approaches a country and stays with them for too long will be swept in by the rages of time and eventually go mad. What this defines is that in theory: only the strongest can handle time, accept history, and accept their fate.

Vietnam would've thought that swords at least would be safe from the clutches of time and history. She wouldn't have suspect that all this time jumping could have consequences similar to a human exposed to a different flow of time. And so today could've been just any normal day.

Until she visited the Citadel and saw a trail of blood leading from the sword's quarters. She followed the trail, not knowing what to expect, or who. Was it even one sword? Ten?

It was the river she saw him. His familiar back and the blood that pooled around him and a demented flower settling beside him.

> Approach_ ]

Mitsutada?

yes good

[candlecutterpikachu]

[ He's given that thought, while he sits by the river and watches the water rush by. Time changes all things, people, spirits, everything. And yet, he's soldiered on past all that, even if it meant reliving the blood that he had spilled. He considers himself lucky to have his owner die a peaceful death, for it meant that he had less of an inclination to change history. Things happen because of a reason, and sometimes it's just best to let sleeping dogs lie.

But underneath all that cheerfulness he exudes, he's known from the beginning that he would be different. He is dead, after all - a soul crushed by fire and now bound again to a form on the living plane. Even if it meant he could spend time with everyone again, there was always a part of him which knew that his time was running out.

As it did now.

He doesn't quite respond when Vietnam first calls out to him, not even turning - because he knows that voice, and it's a voice that should definitely not be here. ]

... you should go.

wow this is sad already WHY

[hoasen]

[Her eyes narrow as she hears the response. Something is clearly wrong. He doesn't even try to disguise it, like he usually would if something was upsetting. It was serious enough that he doesn't even take a glance at her. Not a single greeting.

Just one short response.

This just fuels her. If something is the matter, she is not going to leave him on his own. There's blood around him, does he need something? Is he sick? Is it even possible for him to be sick? It's possible for countries when their land is in trouble, maybe it's something to do with his sword form...]

Mitsutada, what is wrong?

[She walks right up to him, this time settling in front of him.

And then stops.]

GOOD GOOD

[candlecutterpikachu]

[ His sword form is still belted to his waist, slung so casually and lazily that it could almost have been normal. Almost, because the flower's infection has already spread - red vines curling around the hilt of his sword form before snaking into the scabbard and out of view.

It's too late.

Mitsutada instinctively backs away when she comes over, still holding one hand to his bloodied eye socket - though it's more of concern for her than anything else. Nobody knew if it couldn't spread to other non-humans. ]

It's nothing.

[ No, it's everything. ]

- I'm sorry.

/JAW DROP EMOTE

[hoasen]

[She could notice that, his sword form was infected. At least those vines don't look at all normal. But that was the least of her worries for now. It was just a glance, one that she thought was strange, but didn't put much thought into it until he tried to back away, hand covering his face.

The trails of blood that still marked his face gave it away.

She marches forward, quickening her pace so that she can reach him. Vietnam fears nothing. She's been through a lot. And so it was not going to stop her from extending her hands out so she can try to pry his hand away from his face, should she be able to touch him.]

You need not be sorry. Something is wrong, please tell me.

I'll let you know that I'm enjoying this immensely

[candlecutterpikachu]

[ He still tries to keep his distance, countering with his free arm - because these things are deadly, he fully believes it now. Higanbana are indeed poisonous to humans, their bulbs containing toxins - but he doesn't know that, and his belief is fueled by mere cloudy logic. ]

Don't touch me. [ That was rude, so he quickly adds; ] Please, I - don't want to hurt you...!

[ And because he doesn't want to explain, doesn't want to give voice to those fatal, final words, he just lifts his right hand away from the bloody mess that is his ruined socket. There is a hole where his eye should have been, and even the knotted scar in its place has been torn out. First, by the flower that bloomed beneath it, and then by him when he finally rips out the treacherous bloom.

Maybe it's a good thing that there's so much blood. She won't be able to see exactly how bad it is. ]

Please, just go.

[ Don't stay, because all she'll be doing is watching him die. ]

oh my god this is just spiraling into darkness /WAILS

[hoasen]

[As poisonous as they are, it will not affect her. But even if it could, her body will either heal it, or let herself die so that she can be revived. Whatever will happen will mean that she could stay with him. He will not have to blame himself and not the flowers.]

You know nothing can truly hurt me. [Her voice is gentle, but it is firm, determined to see this through to the end.

Unfortunately, her definition of the end does not match up with his, but it really is close to being aligned.

Instinctively, she reaches out close to the bleeding area of his eye, but does not quite touch (she doesn't want to hurt him unknowingly). Her hand hovers as she looks him over, slowly, and then more desperately as it finally hits her. She doesn't know the details, but it doesn't take a scientist to work out that whatever is happening to his sword form is happening to him: He's cursed.]

No. [She shakes her head, but it's not from disbelief or shock. It's in reply to him.] I am staying. I can't leave you alone like this. [Her hands grab his wrists, anchoring herself to him so that the only way he can get rid of her is to carry her back himself.]

[havocking]

The bloodstains are a problem. Or - maybe they themselves aren't the problem, but they're an indication of a problem, and Midare isn't sure who to go to about them. He lingers in the hall where he first notices the splattering of blood, and looks both ways. To the swords' quarters? No, it came from the swords' quarters. He's been in enough battles to be able to tell just by looking.

It's unusual, and that means it's dangerous. The war they're fighting is dangerous enough on the battlefield, but for such oddities to follow them to the safety of the Citadel means things are getting very out of hand.

...the saniwa is here. It occurs to him that if something is going on, it needs to be taken care of before their master is put in danger. So he gulps, steels himself for what might come, and follows the bloodstains all the way out to the river.

Mitsutada is stronger than him in many ways. He knows that. If something strange is affecting him, maybe Midare shouldn't be here on his own - but he's here already. And, besides... this is close range. If there's anything he is skilled at, it's close range fighting.

"Hey, Mitsutada..." His voice comes out a little more shaky than he wants it to, but he presses on. "If you're hurt, you should be in the forge for repairs, not all the way out here."

[candlecutterpikachu]

Mitsutada is flicking something green through his hands, his remaining good eye darts down to recognize that it's just a blade of grass, stained red with what is most likely his own blood. The more he looks at it, the more he could swear that it's starting to shrivel up, too.

"Hey, Midare." He doesn't even bother to call the tantou Midare-chan, any trace of cheerfulness gone from his voice. He's tired, so really tired. So tired of e̗̹͇̦v̤̖͉̤̤̘̙e̤͓͇͇̟r̳y̗̞̺̮t͞h̦̖͈̖i̗n̠͔g̩͕. "Thanks for thinking of me."

He casts the grass aside.

"You should go, yeah? It's not safe here."

But not for himself, because he's already beyond repair.

[havocking]

That isn't right. Mitsutada looks gruff, but Midare has never seen him like... like this. He isn't really acting as gruff as he looks, but the warmth that usually comes from him (a different kind of warmth, perhaps, than most people would expect) is suspiciously absent.

I don't like this. Call me "Midare-chan," like everything is normal. There are times when he's wondered what it would be like if everyone left the -chan off and just treated him seriously, but this isn't how he wanted to find out.

"If it's dangerous, then you shouldn't be alone." Instead of leaving, he takes a step closer. "Telling me to go... that's pretty uncool, Mitsutada."

[candlecutterpikachu]

"Ahh, it really is."

He's not even denying it this time - but Midare's words do manage to make him smile a little. It's a weary, rueful one, but enough to maybe let him turn around.

Coolness has always been what he hung onto, as a way to cover his own pain and be able to remains strong for the others. For someone to see him at his worst moment would be an utter travesty, and he would have protested otherwise - if he just wasn't so tired and so close to falling.

"You shouldn't see me like this."

He's heard stories, of how swords immediately turn on their comrades when they finally become fully
corrupt. But he doesn't feel any of that bloodlust towards Midare, so maybe it isn't that bad yet.

Except it can't be cured, because his soul was dead and rotting in the first place. And you can't lie to the Grim Reaper, can you?

"Don't worry. I'll settle this myself."

[havocking]

"But you don't have to..."

Settle it himself, he means. Mitsutada is a part of the Sword Army. He's a part of their saniwa's makeshift family - that means he has so many who will help him carry this burden and find some way to settle it. Midare is one of them.

The burden he can bear may be small, but it's his duty to try and help.

And if he can't... if Mitsutada really is too far gone...

Then it's his duty to keep whatever sickness has been inflicted upon him from spreading. He can't let it infect the rest of the army; can't have them giving up, or turning on each other, or trying to hurt their master.

He can't leave. Who knows what Mitsutada will do if he's left with no one to watch over him?

"We're part of a team. You can't get rid of me that easily."

[candlecutterpikachu]

Get rid of Midare... he knows what the tantou means, but the double meaning of that word has him letting out a faint, hollow laugh. It's miles away from his usual cheerful exuberance which he can't even muster, because he is broken way beyond the point of still being able to lie to himself - to believe that everything will be okay. Is this how it feels like, to have a specter of madness hanging over your head, just waiting for the right moment to spring its endless trap?

"I won't."

Because he knows Midare is trying to help, and he wouldn't even think of raising his blade against the younger sword. That was never his duty, never what he wanted.

"But, it's for your own good. For the sake of everyone. I don't want to hurt you."

He doesn't have much time left, and he doesn't think that Midare will be up to the task. And he doesn't want to make the other watch him die.

"Did you know? Did the saniwa tell you? No, I don't think she did."

Why is he saying this so easily?

"I was dead from the beginning." A sky painted with crimson, bloody as the flower on the grass beside him. "It's only to be expected."

[timelesssurprises]

This is a surprise he would rather not live with.

Blood shows easily on white. He steps onto something wet and viscous, and he sees the trail of crimson. This is not just a reckless slip of the blade. Cautious steps lead him outside, away from the rooms, the fields, and the citadel. He is aware that it's a more isolated area.

The once usual fresh air is now pungent with the stench of iron, and is sickening to inhale. Tsurumaru feels a nausea-like sensation building up, spreading from his stomach to his chest. He sees a human visage. The familiar dark hair. He's prepared for the worst, but he doesn't want to grip his blade handle not yet.

"Yo, Mitsutada. If you're sick, you shouldn't be wandering this far out."

[candlecutterpikachu]

He laughs.

But it's not the usual cheerful chuckle that he spares at every possible opportunity. It's bitter, definitely, but tempered in its bitterness; no anger there, only resignation and regret.

"Sick would be one way to put it."

The tachi shakes his head, still with his back to his fellow Dategumi. He indicates the flower with a thumb, now lying in the grass, the colour of his blood mingling with the burning poisonous red of its petals. Still trying to joke, even at this point.

(Is this truly how losing your mind feels like?)

"You should go."

[timelesssurprises]

"That just makes me want to stay more. Tell me what's wrong...!"

White brows furrow violently. Tsurumaru's smile has turned into a complete frown. The feeling of dread is familiar, so is the grief that comes afterwards.

(Maybe it can be different this time.)

He continues to approach him with swift steps, and reaches a hand out to him.

[candlecutterpikachu]

His only response is to back away, holding one hand to the ruined half of his face. Even though there is blood seeping through his fingers and staining his clothes, it'll be enough to make sure Tsurumaru doesn't see where he ripped the sickening thing out.

"I don't think I need to tell you, do I?"

If the smell of iron isn't enough, the flower certainly would be. It's unnaturally sharp, in the way that it draws attention despite being an inanimate object, every silken curve of its petals painfully distinct against the grass.

"Please, just go. I'll handle this myself."

And because he really, really doesn't want to hurt anyone else. Especially not Tsurumaru, a trusted comrade - and one still untouched by the lingering darkness of death.

[timelesssurprises]

Was that what was hiding behind the eyepatch all the time? Was that a skeleton that he missed even when they shared about each others' lives?

Tsurumaru sighs quietly.

"If I let you handle this yourself, you're not going to come back aren't you."

The way they would open their shoulders and ears for each other, whether is it back in Oushuu or here. Mitsutada would help haul him or Ookurikara back when they were hurt. He doesn't see a difference now either.

"I'm bringing you back to our master."

[candlecutterpikachu]

"No."

Because he can't be saved. Even by the saniwa's magic, because it is that magic that brought him back in the first place. The corruption will only worsen, and he cannot bear to be in the midst of his friends when that madness finally sets in. Not when he can still think clearly...

"It will end." His life, he means. "And I would rather prefer it be here."

He doesn't say it, but hopefully Tsurumaru can catch on to what he may just have implied.

Kill me.