Chapter Text
Motivation was a fickle thing.
It was what drove people to pursue their passions. It was what kept people moving forward in spite of their circumstances, towards the possibility of something better. It was what made the world go round- a current that ran through everyone that drove people to build, to thrive, to grow, to create.
And it was something that Mr. Puzzles had been severely lacking as of late.
The crumpled pieces of paper strewn about his decrypt excuse for an apartment were proof of that. Each one held various inane ramblings: stories that he came up with but never wrote, starts of scripts that went unfinished, insecurities from the deepest parts of his mind, and things he wished he had said but had never gotten the chance to. The latest paper sat in his hands, the words scribbled on it burning into his mind.
Who do I want to be?
It was a struggle that he had faced countless times before. He knew on the surface what he wanted to be- he wanted to be a showman, a star! He wanted his art to be adored by the world! He wanted his name in lights as the masses flocked to see his latest creations!
But… creations weren’t worth it without anyone there to share them with.
And as much as Puzzles still ached for that fame, that recognition… there was only one person he would ever truly want to share his craft with.
Said person had been missing for the last six years, and currently had a memorial set up for him in the corner of Puzzles’s apartment.
Puzzles let out a miserable little giggle, the paper crumpling in his hand somewhat as his eye twitched. What does it matter who I want to be now? All I know is that I wanted to be yours. I wanted us to be stars together, partners in crime wreaking havoc across the world! I wanted to be with you!
None of this matters if you aren’t here.
But I’m still here.
And I still have to figure out what I want to do with myself because of it.
Why, why, WHY couldn’t I have stayed trapped in that rift with you?
A desperate, manic laugh bubbled up in his throat, more despairing than humorous. He tossed the paper off to the side, the hysterical laughter growing louder and louder. He grabbed his head, clawing at the casing to try and get a grip on himself, but it didn’t work He couldn’t stop it, but it didn’t matter, none of it mattered, nothing matters if you aren’t here-
“Hah, ha ha, ahahah, ahahahah, hah, HAH, AGHHH-”
The crazed scream was cut off by the click of a TV dial.
Puzzles froze, slowly tilting his head to look forward. The old TV he had found abandoned in an alleyway was, for once, working. That alone was enough to pique his interest. He had spent countless hours tinkering with it in an attempt to get it to prime working order, but whatever damage it had sustained in the past had rendered it incapable of playing anything without massive amounts of static.
Now, though, the screen was displaying a flashing message, clear for the first time in forever.
A logo: A shiny silver V, with the words Calling All Villains overlaid on top of it, shining in a way that was almost tantalizing.
As if waiting until Puzzles’s attention was fully garnered, the logo finally flashed away. The ancient speakers crackled, then a voice floated through the apartment.
“Are you someone who feels stuck? Someone who craves for something more? A poor fellow dealt a bad hand, desperate for the power and recognition that you truly deserve?” the voice crooned, sounding equal parts sympathetic and smug.
That is… suspiciously accurate to what I’ve been feeling, Puzzles thought. Normally, he would’ve just zapped the television to turn it off. He wasn’t interested in being patronized by a disembodied voice. Curiosity drove him to stay still, leaning forward on the couch ever so slightly to watch the commercial.
“Then do we have the opportunity for you!” The screen flashed to an image of an island. Rolling green hills covered the landscape, giving the whole place an almost tropical appearance, but what really caught Puzzles’s eye was the massive structure in the middle of the island. It almost looked like a palace, if you ignored the massive walls with guard towers surrounding it.
“Introducing the Tournament of Villains! A gathering of people just like you- all the big bads who want the chance to prove that they’re the baddest of all! There will be a series of competitions that all contestants will partake in until only one remains! Tests of strength, skill, cunning, and ruthlessness that will surely get your blood pumping!” The screen flashed to different images of obstacle courses, decked out with knives, flames, and various other dangerous-looking items. Puzzles could’ve sworn he saw a pit of snakes in one image, but it flashed away before he could confirm it.
“And if that wasn’t enough to garner your interest, then hold your horses, because there’s more! The winner will receive a cash prize of one million completely legally obtained smackaroonies!”
Puzzles could practically feel his eyes shift into dollar signs. A MILLION DOLLARS? That would be more than enough to start fresh! To finally be able to afford a decent living space, maybe even a proper studio! And the money could also go towards hiring actors, screenwriters, set crews…
The possibilities were flooding his mind, but he managed to snap back to reality just in time to hear the final bit of the commercial’s spiel. “And even if you don’t win, don’t worry! The tournament will be streamed to an exclusive audience of benefactors all over the world! Your name and face will be in the lights, even if it is only temporarily- and that’s more than enough to get the attention of a potential future partner in crime!”
Partner in crime.
The words were like a shard of ice being driven straight into Puzzles’s core, realization soaking through him.
If this commercial is being shown to people like me…
That means…
There’s a chance that WPNZ is seeing it too.
“So what are you waiting for?” The voice called, the screen switching back to the logo. “If you’re interested, meet us at the following location:”
The screen switched to an address, one that Puzzles dimly recognized as the city’s shipyard. The picture accompanying the address showed Dock F11. Puzzles wasn’t intensely familiar with the area, as he tended to avoid the more unsavory parts of his new home, but he was well aware of the reputation that particular dock held. Plenty of less-than-legal transactions went on there. Makes sense that the casting for an illegal villain-led gameshow would take place in such an area.
“The sign-ups will take place tomorrow at 9pm. Oh, and if you aren’t interested, that’s perfectly fine! Just don’t show up! And if you choose to run to the police to try and sell us out…”
The voice trailed off, the screen darkening ominously. “We will find you. We always do.”
In a flash, the logo was back, as bright and shining as ever. “So come on down, and take the chance to throw your hat in the ring to become the biggest, baddest villain the world has ever seen! We can’t wait to see you there!”
Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the screen flashed off, leaving Puzzles alone in his dark apartment.
He sat there for a moment, processing all of the information he had just been given. After a beat, he scrambled for the paper he had tossed aside earlier, flipping it over as he grabbed a pencil that had been tossed carelessly on the floor. His hand brushed one of the many bottles there, but he ignored it in favor of writing down everything he had just heard.
Gameshow. Tournament of Villains. Dock F11 at 9pm tomorrow. One million dollar cash prize.
After a pause, Puzzles wrote one more thing. WPNZ?
The second the word was on paper, he froze. It had been six years. Puzzles had searched tirelessly for his friend, desperately hoping he was alive. But after so long… the chances of ever seeing the walking weapon again were slim.
Puzzles looked over to the memorial set up in the corner of the room. It was the only place in the apartment that was spotless- he refused to let his tribute to his only friend be anything less than perfect. Candles burned softly, arranged delicately around a picture frame. Even from his vantage point on the couch, Puzzles knew exactly what was in the frame.
He hadn’t had any actual pictures of WPNZ. They hadn’t known each other long enough for him to have had the chance to take any. Instead, he had relied on his photographic memory to help him draw a portrait of his friend, as close to realistic as possible.
Puzzles was far from a good artist. His craft was writing, of painting a picture using words instead of colors and form. But he had poured so much time into creating the perfect likeness of WPNZ, so much energy, so determined to get it right, that the picture was practically a photo.
A perfect rendition of that moment after they had escaped from prison, when they had been riding off into the night on Toomp as a motorcycle. He had chosen the moment that WPNZ had looked back at him, a joyous, hopeful smile wide on his face.
It made him look so much softer than he normally was. A rare moment when his guard was let down. Where he was truly happy.
Puzzles didn’t want to remember him any other way.
Looking back to the paper in his hand, Puzzles weighed his option. On the one hand, there was no guarantee that WPNZ would be at this tournament. After all, it had been six years. Not to mention the fact that this competition looked incredibly dangerous. Puzzles might’ve been a villain, but that didn’t mean he was invincible. He didn’t want to risk getting killed over a mere chance.
But the less logical part of him, the part that made him cry himself to sleep almost every night, the part that he drank his weight in alcohol to drown, told him that it was still a chance. A slim chance- barely anything- but a chance nonetheless.
Besides, even if he isn’t there, think of the prize! Fame AND fortune, the eyes of the masses upon you as you solidify yourself as the greatest threat this world has ever seen!
It would be more than enough to set yourself up for success, recognition, and infamy…
…And there’s the chance that he could be part of that exclusive audience the commercial mentioned. Even if he isn’t there… he might still see you. Might still know that you’re alive.
If not, then the funds would certainly provide a good way to continue the search for him on a much more widespread scale.
The lock on the door to the apartment jiggled, then creaked open. Puzzles didn’t bother looking up. There were only two other people who had the key to get in, and he was well aware that he had thoroughly frightened the landlord away from bothering him outside of routine checkups. The other individual was no threat to him.
“Aye, boss,” a voice said, Brooklyn accent mixing oddly with the speaker’s high pitch. The door creaked again as it was closed- they really should get some oil on that- before footsteps padded into the ‘kitchen’ (which was really just a stove and fridge shoved next to each other). “I got some of the food ya wanted, but they wouldn’t let me get alcohol. Didn’t believe I was 22, even when I showed them my I.D. Maybe ‘cause the I.D’s fake. But that’s just ‘cause I needed a fake identity! It still has my real age on it!”
Puzzles didn’t answer. The speaker’s movements hesitated, then slowly moved towards him. “Boss? You good?”
With the same pace as two stones grating slowly against each other, Puzzles turned his head to look at the speaker.
A small robotic drone looked back at him. They appeared almost skeletal, aside from the various wires and bolts holding their bony frame together. A tank of magenta fluid was attached to their back, and their eyes (one of which was covered by a peculiar little vent) glowed the same color. A small antennae stuck out from their skull, a small charm dangling from the end.
The sight managed to snap Puzzles out of his stupor, and he immediately lunged.
Bone Drone squeaked as he was swept off his feet, Puzzles easily scooping him up and under his arm. “Ah, Bone Drone, my boy! I’m delighted that you’ve returned!” he said enthusiastically, waving his paper with his other hand. “I’ve just been made aware of the most wonderful opportunity, and I wanted to share it with you!”
Under his arm, Bone Drone looked at him skeptically. “Is it better than the ‘opportunity’ you had to break into that government facility? ‘Cause that didn’t go very well, if you forgot,” he said.
“Nothing like that at all!” Puzzles dropped the drone onto the couch, albeit with a little more force than necessary. He didn’t exactly like being reminded of his shortcomings, especially when it was in regards to his botched plan to acquire a second YouTube remote in order to potentially track WPNZ. Not only was the stupid thing apparently unique to his original universe, but they hadn’t even managed to snag anything remotely valuable from the place before being run off by soldiers and agents. Not his finest moment.
He flopped onto the couch, holding up the paper to Bone Drone while simultaneously slipping his arm around the drone’s shoulder and pulling him close. “This, my boy, is what I was referring to!”
“Uhhh…” Bone Drone didn’t even have to speak a word before Puzzles quickly realized that the paper was facing the wrong way. His statement, Who do I want to be, stared mockingly at the two of them. He quickly flipped it, refusing to acknowledge the remnants of his mental breakdown, revealing the tidbits of info about the competition.
“While you were out, the most fascinating commercial came on! It was an invitation to a tournament! A competition for all the worst villains out there! Think about it- fame, recognition, a chance to get our blood rushing and cores pumping… and just look at that prize!”
“A million bucks, huh?” Bone Drone mused, taking the paper in his mechanical hands. He tilted his head. “That’s enough to make sure they don’t shut the lights off again, that’s for sure.”
“Think bigger, my boy. We could move somewhere where we never have to worry about losing power again,” he said. He waved his hands wildly, gesturing to the apartment. “I mean, honestly, this is all beneath me, anyway! The only reason I am here is because I had no other option that I could afford! But with this… we could finally move to a place that is fitting for someone of my stature.”
Bone Drone snorted, a flicker of amusement entering his tone. “You mean that in a snotty way, or a ‘I’m too tall for most normal living spaces’ way?”
Puzzles lightly smacked the back of the drone’s head. “Shush, you. It’s certainly not my fault that more places aren’t accommodating to my height,” he said, dramatically placing a hand to his chest. Bone Drone couldn’t roll his eyes, on account of not actually having pupils, but Puzzles was quite certain the little motion he did with his head was meant to emulate that.
The drone looked over the paper for a few more moments. “Whadja say this was called again?” he asked, tapping it lightly.
“The commercial referred to it as the Tournament of Villains,” Puzzles said. “A bit over-the-top if you ask me, but that’s showbiz. You need to have something a little dramatic and ridiculous if you truly want to garner the masses' attention.”
Bone Drone was oddly silent. “Y’know, I’ve heard of this,” he said quietly. Puzzles’s antennae perked up, and he eagerly leaned forward.
“Oh? Do tell. If I’m going to participate, I’m going to need all the advantages I can get,” he said, resting his head in his hands.
“That’s the thing, boss. I… I dunno if you should participate,” he said awkwardly. Puzzles instantly stiffened.
“And why not? Do you think I’m incapable? I’ll have you know I am perfectly well-equipped to hold my own in a fight-”
“It’s not that,” Bone Drone said quickly. “I’m sure ya know how to fight. It’s just… the… people that used to own me… they watched this thing. Apparently you can send money in order for different challenges to be added for different people. Hell, the guys that owned me would send money just to target whoever they thought looked weakest. Just ‘cause they could.”
“So, honestly… I don’t think you should go. Not ‘cause ya can’t, but ‘cause I don’t want ya to get hurt. You’re all I’ve got,” Bone Drone finished weakly, curling in on himself.
Puzzles thought over this for a moment. Bone Drone never spoke about his past. It was a rather tense subject for him, and one that had rarely come up ever since Puzzles had found him half-wrecked in an alley and had taken him in as an assistant. The fact that he was willing to talk about it, painful memories or otherwise, meant that this tournament must truly be a threat.
But on the other hand… “Bone Drone, look at me,” he said firmly, causing the little skeleton to look up at him.
“I am not afraid of getting a little roughed up. Goodness knows I’ve had my fair share of beatings throughout my life. But the reward far outweighs the risk,” he said, taking the paper back and tapping it. His confident smile faded, and his finger trailed down the paper to rest next to the name written at the bottom.
Thankfully, Bone Drone was smart enough to pick up on what he was thinking. “Ya think your friend might be there?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder to the memorial. Puzzles had gone on enough drunken rants about how much WPNZ meant to him for the drone to know exactly how important taking this chance would be.
They had chased leads on less evidence before. Surely, surely this time would be different.
(There was a reason the prison psychiatrist had looked so concerned after his evaluation, but that was completely irrelevant to the current situation at hand.)
“This tournament seems catered to a very specific audience. It stands to reason that he might be there, whether as a competitor or as someone in the audience,” he said reasonably. He wouldn’t seem crazy if he sounded logical enough, right? “Even if he isn’t there, the cash prize and free exposure is still a substantial motivator. It certainly wouldn’t hurt to throw our hats into the ring for a shot at a better life.”
Bone Drone was silent once again, clearly ruminating over the possibilities. Puzzles may not have known the little droid very well, but it was obvious that he wasn’t happy living in such squalid conditions. Content, maybe- apparently the apartment was much more comfortable than whatever he had lived in before- but not truly thriving.
“Alright, fine,” he finally said. He looked up at Puzzles with an expression that was adorably determined. “But I’m comin’ with ya.”
“But of course!” Puzzles said, patting the drone’s shoulder amicably. “Where would I be without my trusty assistant? Speaking of which, I want all the information you have about this tournament written down in an organized list, as well as a list of things I’ll need to bring. I may not be the strongest brute out there, but I’ll be damned if I’m the least prepared.”
The drone nodded, a hand flying up to his forehead in a salute. “You got it, boss,” he said, eagerly hopping down from the couch and pattering away. Puzzles chuckled. The drone may have been a bit of an odd fellow, but it was nice to have someone competent around for once.
His smile faded as he looked back at the paper, finger resting on WPNZ’s name. With a sigh, he pushed himself off of the couch, walking over to the memorial. Various bottles and crumpled papers alike were kicked aside as he walked, a mess that was constant these days. He paused in front of the small table, reaching out to gently lift the picture frame into his hands.
Oh, how he missed his dear WPNZ. That harsh laugh, toothy grin, and incredibly dangerous weapons- they had become something that he only ever saw in his dreams. He set the paper down, then slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a familiar object.
The bullet casing was still in pristine condition, having survived his fall from the rift while somehow remaining in his pocket. Puzzles had made sure to polish it daily, buffing out any potential blemishes that might tarnish the one real gift he’d ever received. A reminder of all the sappy memories they had made, as WPNZ had so charmingly put it.
“Soon,” he murmured, staring down at the drawing in the frame. As realistic as it was, he still had never quite managed to get the glow of WPNZ’s eyes right. He hoped that he could see those eyes again to get a proper reference. “Soon, we’ll be back together. I promise. I’m not giving up on you yet.”
If the tournament ended up being another dead end… if WPNZ wasn’t there, and they weren’t able to find him after…
Puzzles wasn’t sure what he would do with himself.
Please, my star. For both of our sakes, be there.
I can’t lose anyone else.
----
Deep below the surface of the earth, in a dark, damp cell, a figure knelt.
Chains bound their arms up to the wall. Another chain wrapped around their neck, forcing their head down. When they coughed, blue blood spattered on the stone floor, glowing faintly against the dull tones.
The figure sucked in a breath, trying to ignore the pain threatening to pull them into unconsciousness. Far away, they could hear the sounds of shouting and heavy machinery. Things were being moved. Welded. Slotted into place.
It was a painful routine, but one they knew well.
Another tournament.
How great.
With a sigh, they dropped their head, letting unconsciousness take them at last.
They would need all the rest they could get in this next week.