ACL Omake: Let's Play: Legacy of Steel, Part the First (Patreon)

Preface

This one’s for the player. He knows who he is. Rather than write an AU sidestory, I decided to do an omake of the PMD series.

It’s just a two-part summary of Amy and Vicky’s reactions as they play through the game. Is it canon? Ehh, it’s not not canon lol.

Let’s Play: Legacy of Steel, Part the First

Amy Dallon

“Amy! Amy! Amy!” I groaned and flipped over on my bed, turning to face the door to my room. There was only one person in the house who yelled my name like a neurotic parrot. Seconds later, my lovable ditz of a sister barged through the door without so much as an “excuse me,” not that I ever chided here. She thrust her phone in my face. “See what your boyfriend did!”

I sighed. And there was the biggest source of chaos in my life: my boyfriend, at least on a technicality, Blake Isley.

He was… He was good for me. In a lot of ways, he was the best friend I wished I had, one that could understand the burden of being a healer and didn’t think I was a sarcastic bitch. He could make me laugh, cared about me, and dragged me out of my shell in a way that only Vicky could do before.

He was also a frustrating jerk who seemingly did things for no other reason than to make me want to rip my hair out, a point I was sorely reminded of once again as I read the PHO post Vicky indicated.

“Amy! He made a video game!” my sister squealed. “And you’re the main character! Eee!”

“Vicky, calm down,” I grumbled. “It’s probably some 8-bit flash game he made to get the mods off his back. You gotta admit, that’s exactly the kind of stupid joke he’d pull.”

“Well yeah, but it’s still super cute. Come on, we have to play it now.”

“We don’t have to do anything.”

“Ames~” Vicky pouted. She knew I was weak to that shit.

My stomach did flips and I knew immediately I’d cave. Just like every other time Vicky batted her lashes at me and shot me one of her dazzlingly expressive looks. I could never deny her anything because I was a filthy degenerate.

“Fine,” I sighed but forced myself to sit up. “Let’s see what sort of nonsense he’s pulled out of his butt this time.”

Surprisingly, downloading the game didn't take long, not even fifteen minutes. My laptop wasn't garbage, but it wasn't the latest gaming laptop from Dragon's subsidiary or anything either.

Soon enough, Vicky and I sat on my bed, our laptops in hand and displaying the same loading screen.

As if the creator wasn't already obvious, Blake immediately started with the trolling:

Disclaimer: Characters in this story are not based on anyone in real life. All similarities one may notice while enjoying this game are mere coincidences.

Except the main character, that one is Amy Dallon, the walking nurse fetish.

“Pft,” Vicky snorted. “At least he's honest. Something you want to tell me, sis?”

I felt my cheeks redden. I hadn't even started playing the dumb game and I already wanted to strangle him. A part of me wanted to close my laptop and leave, but this was my room. And Vicky had trapped me against the wall. I knew there was no getting out of this humiliation.

“Nope. Nothing to tell.”

“Come on, so you two don’t have a little fun when you’re alone in the break room after a shift?” she asked, eyebrows wiggling suggestively like the filthy old man stuck in a teenager’s body she was.

“We don’t do that!”

“Really? Like for reals?”

“Yes! We’re not perverts!”

“The disclaimer implies otherwise, you know.”

“I’m going to kill him.”

“Have you at least kissed him?”

I shook my head. Why would I? He was Blake. He was my best friend, just my meatshield against Vicky’s horrible matchmaking tendencies. We weren’t dating for real and…

I thought about what it’d be like to kiss him. He wasn’t the sort of guy girls at school giggled about. I’d dated my fair share of those boys and they were idiotic, shallow, and immature. That Vicky was the best part of those “double date nights” was telling.

Blake was… He wasn’t hideous or anything. But I’d never considered something physical with him. He liked to joke, make insinuations, but they were mostly to get under my skin.

“You’re kidding,” Vicky gasped. She’d put her laptop to the side. “What? Does he have a pug nose under the helmet?”

“He doesn’t,” I denied.

“You know like ninety percent of girls at school wish they were you, right?”

“Well he’s pretty vanilla, alright? He’s not some super exciting prince charming.”

“It’s just, you two always look like you’re having fun.”

“We do,” I said, a small smile coming unbidden to my lips. “But he’s honestly more normal than you’d think under the mask.”

“Fine, keep your secrets, Ames. But if you need me to distract mom for a night to go on a date, you know you can count on your big sis, right?”

I pointedly turned back to the laptop. I wasn’t going to answer that.

The game didn’t start there. A small, fox-like pokemon hopped onto the screen with a smug, self-satisfied look. An eevee, though black instead of the creamy brown I’d seen last time.

“Yo,” he said, “I’m Mr. Black. Before we get started, let’s have a bit of a personality quiz. Ready?”

“Oh, god, he inserted himself into the game,” Vicky said.

I found myself chuckling too. I should’ve expected this.

“First question: What’s your favorite pokemon?”

I rolled my eyes as a list of options appeared. Scrolling down, I selected the obvious: Eevee. It was easily the most genetically complex thing I’d ever touched. And its fur was so sinfully soft…

“Second question: Which pokemon deserves to be Lord of All Creation?”

Vicky immediately selected the spheal. I saw a few more options, like arcanine, lucario, and tyrantrum, but the one that stuck out to me was a blackened silhouette. It looked kind of like a quadruped, with a strange ring around the torso.

Beneath it was the quote, “None of the above, for there is a Lord of Creation. Praise be to Arceus, Alpaca Almighty.”

I snorted and selected that option. It was exactly what Blake would do.

A few more questions rounded out the survey. Some of them were about pokemon, while others were simple, nonsensical questions like favorite color, preferred ice cream flavor, and the like. When we finished, we received two separate results. Vicky’s screen read:

You are not the chosen one. Alas, as imperfect as you are, you may follow the journey of one greater than yourself. Bear witness to the glory that is Aimee the buneary.

PS: If Amy kills me, my will can be found in the end credits. Teehee

“I think I hate him,” I grumbled.

“You don’t mean that.”

“I don’t… I’m still going to kick him in the shins.”

Oh hey, Amy. You got around to playing this game, huh? Well, you’re in for a treat. I know you have a bunny fetish so I decided you should be a buneary. You can thank me later. Enjoy the game, I promise you’ll like it.

As much as I grumbled to my sister, I couldn’t help but feel flattered. This was the first time anyone had gifted me something so personal. I didn’t know how long this took. It wouldn’t surprise me if he had a form that was a tech-wiz, he seemed to have one for every conceivable need, but he made this for me…

Granted, mostly to fuck with me, but not maliciously. I’d never had a friend like this before.

I rolled my eyes as the intro played. Aimee, a nursing student from Brockton Bay, fell through a hole in the ground and ended up in a world occupied by nothing but pokemon. She was adopted by a tinkatink, some kind of bubblegum-pink gremlin with a mallet, named Nike.

“Aww, I’m in here too,” Vicky cooed, only for her amusement to turn into indignant wrath as “Nike” slammed her mace through the wall on accident. “Oi! I’m not that bad!”

I coughed awkwardly as Vicky raged at my boyfriend over PHO.

►Point Me at The Sky (Verified Cape) (New Wave)
Replied On Jan 31st 2011:

What the fuck?

[Menagerie_Official], why? I don't break everything!

►Menagerie_Official (Original Poster) (Verified Cape) (Crownless Champion) (Aura Master) (Will of Legends) (Guardian of the Hall of Origin) (Alpaca Whisperer)
Replied On Jan 31st 2011:

Coincidence.

If you see yourself in some of these highly dysfunctional characters, perhaps that is your conscience trying to tell you something.

That got me. I snorted out a laughter that earned me a look of betrayal from my dearest sister. I imagined Caesar gave Brutus the same look before he died.

“You’re not that bad,” I said through a fit of giggles. I wasn’t very convincing if her face was any indication.

“Betrayed. By my own sister.”

“You’ve gotten better?”

Vicky grumbled but turned back to the game. “Let’s just play. But this better not just be a bunch of shots at my good name or we’ll be having words.”

X

It was.

Or at least, the tutorial was.

We stood before Knightly the charcadet, a red and black pokemon with little fireballs for irises who ran the village training ground. Why a village needed a training ground was beyond me. He could be Gallant, as the name implied, or maybe an Empire wannabe given the color scheme.

“O-Oh, you want me to teach Aimee the ropes? I can do that!” he said, chest puffed out. A rosy pink blush, side-eyes towards Nike, and his fumbling attempt at giving her a flower put the question of his real world inspiration to rest.

“Thanks! I owe you one, Knightly!” Nike replied with a cheery grin.

“O-Oh, then can we go on a d-date?”

“Yeah!”

“Really?”

“One moment.” Nike rummaged in her bag for a second, returning with a dried, pink berry of some kind. Pecha, sweet and great for poisons apparently. The obvious hint at yet another berry he could make made my gaze flicker to my new bonsai plant. “Here’s a date. I’ve been saving this one. It’s super tasty!”

“Ah… Thanks…” he said meekly.

That brought a smile to my face. Dean, Gallant, was a lot of things, but he wasn’t shy or meek. Seeing his digital self accidentally get so thoroughly shut down was hilarious.

As Knightly trained Aimee on basic combat mechanics, we were presented with the first branching decision in the game. Two choices were available in the dialogue box: The player could have Aimee call him on his blatant crush, or they could play dumb.

Naturally, I called him out while Vicky felt bad for the little guy.

“This is mean, why would Menagerie put this here?” she pouted.

“Because you're dating Dean? Remember, he doesn't know Dean is Gallant so he probably saw the PHO rumor mill about you being in a love triangle,” I pointed out.

“Oh, right. Lame.”

On the screen, Knightly led Aimee through two “moves:” Splash and Pound. Splash looked useless but was unexpectedly good for hopping around the opponent's attacks. There was even a little mini-game in which Knightly launched small fireballs that the player had to evade for as long as possible. The longest streak could be recorded and posted online for bragging rights.

“S-Say, you're from far away, right? You must have met lots of people,” Knightly said, to me but not to Vicky. “Can you help me get Nike's attention? At this rate, I think the only thing she'll fall in love with is her own hammer.”

I wanted to reject on principle, but Aimee answered for me. “Sure. I'm not sure if she will return your feelings, but making them clear ro her is the first step, right?”

“R-Right! I should be brave and confident, just like the Blessed Knight was!.”

“Who?”

“Wow, you must be from really far away if you don't know that. The Blessed Knight was a mighty warrior who fought for justice all over the land. They say that his armor is somewhere out there…”

“You really admire him, huh?”

“Yeah. When I was little, it was my dream to find that armor someday, to be as gallant as him.”

“A knight is a protector,” Aimee said. “That's what you do in this village right? So you're part way there.”

“You're right, Aimee. Thanks. Speaking of protection, I know a move that might help you on your journey. Let me teach it to you.”

You have acquired the title [Fluffy Cupid]. In gratitude for your kind words, Knightly has taught you the move [Protect].

The move was a small force field that had a long cooldown. Doubtlessly strong, but apparently rather tiring to use.

“Oh, that's not fair,” Vicky pouted. Having skipped the unmarked sidequest, her version of the combat guide l had ended after the Splash mini-game. She leaned up against me to watch as I caught up.

“Apparently, Menagerie rewards you for being a busybody,” I drawled.

“Yeah, he's already dropping little life lessons and it's just the tutorial. He didn't even hint at a reward.”

“Probably on purpose. Knowing him, I bet there are all sorts of these unmarked achievements you can get.”

“Yeah, let's keep playing.”

X

For the next part of the tutorial, Nike dragged Aimee out of the village to see the berry orchard. It primarily grew oran berries and a chikorita by the name of Pint-Size managed it.

Except, said chikorita was an adventure-starved battle junkie who wanted to prove she was as good as an evolved pokemon, whatever that meant. She also hated “girlish and childish” colors, like pink.

“No points for guessing who that is,” I said with a laugh. “Vista's going to riot.”

“Definitely. But she'll forgive him with another dino ride.”

Aimee spoke to the walking berry dispenser and I was once again reminded of my very much non-digital healing berry. I'd have to talk to him about it soon.

The pokemon were about to help Pint-Size take the harvest to the village when they were interrupted by a group of three gulpin, some kind of gray, goo-like thing with a feathery cowlick, and a shuckle, a yellow, tentacle monster using the hollowed out remains of a red koopa for a shell.

They wanted to get first dibs on the harvest because… the turtle-murderer could brew booze in its shell…

“Jesus Christ, Menagerie,” I swore under my breath.

“He's really creative,” my sister said.

That was the problem: I was quite positive he wasn't joking. I now had to live with the fact that Menagerie had a pokemon who could make wine inside its shell. I could already imagine all the “You’re drinking my juices,” jokes already.

Vicky and I were presented with two options again. One, we could let them have the berries for a fee. The shuckle even invited Aimee and co. for a night of partying.

Or two, we could take them on in a friendly fight to see who got first dibs.

“Let's each pick a different one,” I told her.

“Good idea. We can see both sides of the story.”

You have acquired the achievement [Way of the Drunken Master]. Your ATK and DEF will rise by 20% when Confused.

I looked at my screen, then at Vicky’s. I received a perk for hanging out with the boozehounds while my sister just got a bit of experience points, which I was fairly sure I could make up in the future.

“That’s bullshit,” Vicky complained. “What does he know about drinking anyway? He’s not secretly a middle-aged man, is he, Ames?”

“He’s definitely not,” I said flatly.

“Older? Our age?”

“Stop asking, Vicky.”

“Fine, spoilsport. I can’t believe you get better items because you decided to go get drunk.”

It was true. The perk was also a medal, or rather a wooden coupon, which could be redeemed from the shuckle’s winery and bar. Instead of consuming oran berries like my pleb sister, my drunkard bunny now had access to Berry Juice, an item that healed 20 HP, twice as much as an oran berry, at the cost of causing Confusion, which wasn’t a bad thing in my case.

“Heh. You’re just jealous.”

“You sure Menagerie didn’t give you a secret guide or something?”

“I didn’t even know this game existed until you showed me,” I said truthfully.

“I thought he’d reward ‘heroic’ actions, like being sober. Guess your boyfriend’s using this to blow off steam a little.”

I thought about it. It was natural for the artist’s beliefs and opinions to shape their work, right? Some people were very self-conscious about separating the art from the artist, but I didn’t think Blake was the type.

So what did he value? Besides fucking with me and making PHO wonder just what the hell his limits were, why do this? Did he have a message he wanted to share with the world? A story?

“Ames, hello? You there?”

“Hmm? Yeah, I just got lost in thought.”

“What’s up?”

“Well, what you said got me thinking: Why? Why would Menagerie make this? It’s clearly not just an 8-bit flash game. This is real, polished stuff here.”

Vicky’s nose scrunched up cutely in thought. “You know, you’re right. The more I think about it, the less sense it makes. Why go out of his way to show people more pokemon? He’s just giving villains information, especially with stuff like the type chart.”

“And ruining the surprise factor. He loves surprising people.”

“RIght, which means this is about more than just blowing off steam. Or messing with you.”

“Oh, it’s definitely the second, but yeah. He’s got an agenda. I’m not sure the charity thing is it either. Maybe he has a story he wants the world to hear?”

“Your boyfriend is annoyingly clever when he wants to be.”

“I know,” I said with a sigh of fond frustration. “One moment he’s a giant, surfing rat, the next he’s pulling off crap like this.”

“Well, we’ll have to keep playing if we want to read the story he’s written for us.”

“Yeah…”

X

We couldn’t finish the game in one sitting. There was just way too much to do, too many sidequests that drew our attention. The longer we played, the more Vicky and my builds differentiated from each other.

Vicky, contrary to her style in real life, opted to be a support and harassment specialist. She leaned heavily towards moves like Helping Hand, Dizzy Punch, Thunder Wave, and Heal Bell to keep her party safe and hid behind powerful attackers like Knightly.

Meanwhile, I built my Aimee like a berserker, intentionally drinking a Berry Juice before a fight, even if my HP was full, to induce Confusion. I relied on moves like Double Hit, Jump Kick, and Quick Attack to clean up long before statistics could turn against me.

The amazing part of the game was that neither build was strictly better than the other. I struggled with bulky or evasive pokemon while Vicky had a hard time handling more aggressive threats. It was a really well-balanced game that allowed for a diverse array of playstyles.

We took a break from PHO to avoid all conversation about “meta” builds and spoilers about the story from tryhards who finished the game within a day or two. The story was fairly linear so we doubted we’d be missing much in terms of unlockables.

“You know, I’m starting to hate Mr. Black,” I grumbled. Blake’s self-insert, no doubt about it, was the kind of snarky asshole that got old really fast.

“Can’t remember the last time he did something useful,” Vicky agreed. “No, wait, he taught Aimee Quick Attack and it’s pretty great for mobility and initiative.”

“True. At least he doesn’t take up a slot in the party.”

On the screen, not-Blake was going on yet another wild tangent, something about the secret to evolution being the power of friendship.

“Evolution is triggered by the power of bonds, the threads that bind us all into a Grand Tapestry,” he said. “It is the great secret of this world and evolution is tangible proof of the Origin’s will. It’s an invitation from Arceus himself to explore the mystery by which he made all creation.”

“Watch, it really is the power of friendship,” Vicky joked.

“Not a joke,” I said. Was this the story he wanted to tell? “He’s always been serious about relationships, maybe even more than being a hero.”

“So what do we pick then?”

Before us were two options, Aimee’s internal thoughts.

A: (He’s nuts. He’s like one of those door-to-door people. The human world had those too. Maybe I should just smile and nod.)

B: (Well, he gets a bit rambly, but he hasn’t been wrong yet. New world, new rules, right? Maybe the talking toilet brush is onto something…)

“I want to choose B this time,” Vicky said. “It’s the one with the buff, watch.”

“Probably. You’re the healer in the game so sure,” I agreed and watched along on Vicky’s laptop.

Then promptly burst into laughter as there was no buff to be had.

Instead, Mr. Black went on another rant about these things called Origin Pyres, eighteen in all, that were scattered throughout the land. Lighting incense and praying at each would lead to spiritual enlightenment or something.

“So not fair,” Vicky grumbled. “You get a cool berserker build medal. I get a fetch quest with eighteen parts.”

“There’s probably something at the end.”

“I want instant gratification, damnit.”

We kept playing and laughed along as we encountered familiar capes from Brockton Bay. I doubted Hookwolf was every going to live down being called “Hookitty.” It didn’t help that he was the first serious boss, still more of a tutorial. Maybe Menagerie made it too obvious just how little he thought of one of the deadliest villains in the Bay.

We also met Ulcer and Leek, horrible parodies of the video game duo. That they were incapable of evolving because of something called an everstone made me almost feel bad. If evolution was the “proof of Arceus’ will” or something, did that make them divinely ordained punching bags?

There were other members of New Wave and the Wards too, all available to round out our party options. 3iZ the magnemite, which took a while to recognize as a sideways “WiN,” was an especially useful addition, with a lot of ranged options for Vicky to make use of with her support playstyle. Then there was Blackwing the murkrow, who was so absurdly edgy and aloof that she had to be Shadow Stalker. She had the lowest base stat total out of anyone, though with a higher chance to critically strike to make up for it.

On the New Wave side, we saw Shells the torkoal, definitely Eric, and Sparkles the oricorio, some kind of blonde, pom pom-waving cheerleader. They were siblings, the turtle and the speedy cheerleader, and definitely went in our main parties. It was a pity Blake didn’t hang out much with Eric and Crystal because he didn’t quite nail their voices right.

I had my Aimee visit Kangamama, a dinosaur-kangaroo hybrid that adopted Sparkles and Shells, who taught all the elemental punches and mothered the little bunny like only Aunt Sarah could.

Eventually, we got around to beating Hookitty, where not-Blake recommended we rely on Knightly and said something about metal being hard to swim in. A part of that loot was one third of an Auspicious Armor.

“Wait, hold up,” I said, making Vicky pause. “Open up the armor description again.”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“Yours says, ‘The armor looks grand and noble. I wonder if a valiant warrior wore it once.’ Mine doesn’t say anything.”

“Wait, I finally got something you didn’t? Hah!” she cheered. “I mean, it’s only one third of the armor… Wait, is this the armor Knightly’s looking for?”

“Maybe you only get the hint if Knightly was in the party you used to beat Hookitty.”

“True. You benched him as soon as you could.”

“Because fuck him, he’s lame,” I groused.

“Well, guess you don’t get to see Knightly’s glorious evolution.”

“”Whatever. Teaching me Protect is the only useful thing he did on my team. Hey, at least you have your hammer back.”

“Not my hammer,” she growled.

On the screen, Nike finally retrieved her favored weapon, the original reason Nike and Aimee set out on this whole adventure in the first place. According to her, every tinkaton left behind a part of their own hammer for their offspring, making the weapon something of an heirloom. Without it, she couldn’t hope to master the greatest steel type attack, Gigaton Hammer.

Having reunited with her weapon, Nike evolved into tinkatuff, a… a slightly larger pink gremlin. It really didn’t look very tough. Then again, most pokemon didn’t look too intimidating. She wasn’t the first to evolve, a few of the party members had simple level requirements instead of this convoluted fetch quest, but as one of the deuteragonists, her moment in the sun admittedly tugged on my heartstrings a bit.

It was a suitably solemn moment, one in which the heroes swore to chase down Kaiber the bisharp to return all the other lost items and find out just why he’d been collecting so much steel.

And then I read the item description and laughed. Trust Blake to make one final crack at my sister.

Nike’s Hammer of Justice (Collateral Damage): +25% ATK. Deal 30% of the wielder’s damage as AOE. Doubly effective against terrain and constructs.

“It’s not funny,” Vicky huffed. “Let’s see him try to control his own strength.”

I couldn’t help the snort of laughter. She looked so cute like this. “It’s a little funny. Remember when he blew out all the windows for several blocks because he was running so fast?”

“Yeah, I do. Jerk. Glass houses. He doesn’t have to live with super strength.”

I patted her shoulder. “There there, Victoria.”

“Oh, hush, you.”