mysteryevolution

[mysteryevolution]

You know the text the nomai kids make?

I think hatchling has some opinions about it

[mysteryevolution]

I think they were the one who programmed the translator

Idk, their thought process on the ship log looks very analytical to me, so I think it fits them. Whereas Hal is more the linguistic type

This isn’t just me projecting on the hatchling or anything

(Im studying computer engineering)

[mysteryevolution]

My hatchling, Graphite, would go on to essentially trek around each planet, quiz their fellow astronauts, and demand to be told what each individual thinks can be improved about the space program. Then they’d beg Hal to sit down with them and work out the theoretical side of inventing new things so that the two of them could work on blueprints together, and of course eventually build them.

They would give Slate a run for their money. If Hearthians had a concept of money….pfft.

Their proudest achievement (behind the Nomai translator tool) would be implementing color into video. They think the ship’s landing camera not being in color is dumb and that a lot of landing based crashes could be avoided if astronauts simply had…a better ability to see what is beneath them. Slate claims grayscale actually allows for a better definition of values and makes landing easier, but Graphite thinks Slate should try landing the dang ship themself before arguing about it.

(Hatchling with terrible landing skills my beloved. Those landing skills are entirely based on my own in the game. Who needs…intact. Anything. That’s totally optional.)

I do headcanon Graphite as afraid of ever having their own family/raising a hatchling? Due to being who they are as a person, read: an individual they do not think that turned out all that great, they’re scared that they would raise a child to be too much like themself. It is a very discomforting thought for them to entertain.

If Hal ever has a hatchling though, Graphite would make a wonderful…whatever the Hearthian equivalent of “I’m not actually your aunt/uncle but I’m such close friends with your parent that I essentially am anyways” is. That hypothetical baby salamander would be doted on so hard it’s unreal.

How would your Hatchling's life go if they were allowed to live their full lifetime without the time loop or any cosmic shenanigans? What would they do with their time, what would their career focus be? Would they raise any hatchlings or leave that to others? Would they even stay an astronaut?

This post doesnt expire you can answer forever ::]

[mysteryevolution]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63818119/chapters/165666841#workskin

I did it yall. Chapter two is here. In this one: Graphite solves absolutely zero problems, Gabbro is homesick, and no one is having a good day.

[mysteryevolution]

Saw a meme and i just had to

[mysteryevolution]

5, for the hatchling ask game? (could also be taken as a free space to share hearthian specbio headcanons if you'd like :D )

Oh. Oh boy! Thank you for the ask because this is gonna be fun! Long rant incoming, so I'll go ahead and put this all below a read more.

Prepare to learn about nictating membranes, gills, brachial hearts, scale coloration/patterns, why I think Hearthians have four eyes, and how those eyes function. Not quite in that exact order.

Eyes, Color Vision, and Nictating Membranes -

So, the reason some aquatic organisms on earth developed four eyes or mechanisms adjacent to four eyes (such as split pupils) was to see above and below water at the same time. This is likely the same reason Hearthians evolutionarily have four eyes. (If you don’t already know about them, check out some photos of anableps, also called the “four-eyed fish.” A lot of my science for this post was inspired by anableps .)

Proto-Hearthians are mentioned to have resided in pools of water within caves, and it’s likely that those pools contained debris that could be stirred up by movement, such as a loose sediment, and they would need a way to protect their eyes while retaining visual acuity. Hence, Hearthians have a nictitating membrane: not quite a third eyelid! But kind of. It's close. It's there to help with underwater navigation via not letting silt directly hit the eyeball.

Additionally, a Hearthian’s top eyes and bottom eyes have different color receptors. One of the best colors for penetrating murky/lower visibility water is yellow light. As such, their lower eyes, which are meant to spend more time below water, contain red and green color receptors to create the illusion of yellow by mixing the two light wavelengths! The top eyes contain blue and green color receptors, and their brains essentially piecemeal the information from both sets of eyes to create “true color” vision. 

(This means not only is Gossan’s depth perception messed up, so is their color vision. Or it’s at least somewhat skewed, unfortunately for them. Oops?)

Gills, Three Hearts, and a Little Bit of Metamorphosis -

Hearthians have gills along their sides/ribs. And you may be thinking, hey? Doesn’t Hatchling drown in the game if they jump into water? Why would you give them gills? That's weird.

Yes. But by all appearances, Hearthians are amphibious, and it would make sense that Hatchling would know how to swim. Hatchling clearly does not, but that's a whole different can of worms. Of course, amphibians on Earth don’t retain gills unless they remain in their larval form, such as axolotls, but I have to have a little fun deviating from Earth norms when it comes to aliens. We (I) slap neoteny on things here (in my headcanons). 

Graphite “the worst amphibian on the entire planet” is an outlier and should not be included in data. The fact they drown so quickly, however, inclines me to believe that to remain game accurate, I must account for why the gills…are so very bad at their job. (It's either that or Graphite/Hatchling specifically just forgets how breathing works. Let me be real here, they would.)

How the gills are orientated: they run horizontally from a hand’s length below the shoulder blade to the front of the body. Pretend to draw a line vertically from where the hip bone meets the femur. That's approximately where the gill slits stop. There are two sets on either side of the body. 

These gills are not useless to the point of vestigial, per se, but they’re not the most functional organ either. There are two brachial hearts that branch off the main heart, one on the left gills and one on the right gills, (a mechanism observed in many real fish! Examples include cuttlefish - my main inspiration here - as well as hagfish (except they have four hearts), and octopi). Most real reptiles and amphibians have three chambered hearts as opposed to the mammalian four chambered heart, so the brachial heart structure used here is essentially just a more extreme version of spacing out those bits. The brachial hearts help move oxygen more efficiently into the bloodstream when it is taken in by the gills.

Gills are a remnant from the completely aquatic tadpole stage of the Hearthian lifecycle. Tadpoles have cute little webbed fingers and toes, a tail, very prominent gills, and lack of external ears. They still have internal ear canals, but sound travels much farther through water, and external ear shells aren't necessary for picking up vibrations. If anything, they'd create more drag when swimming, and that's counterproductive to survival. This stage lasts for about a year until the tadpole is ready to fully transition onto the land. They'll undergo a metamorphosis as they get closer to the one-year mark, losing most of their tails and webbing, growing proper air-breathing lungs, and developing external ears. Once they can breathe air, they're considered a hatchling.

Culturally, there's two stages to hatchlinghood: "you've still got some of your tail left" stage, and the "you no longer have a tail" stage, or, in human terms, pre-teen and teen.

Even though the gills and brachial hearts remain throughout all life stages, they don’t increase proportionally to body size once the tadpole stage is over. This means they don't have the capability to keep up with the energy demands of an adult body. The main heart is doing most of the cardiovascular work now.

Additionally, a lot of the water they might find themself swimming in isn’t oxygen rich. Breathing through gills will only provide a very meager amount of supplemental oxygen. They can, however, breathe better in cold water because of the higher concentration of dissolved oxygen available. You would think this is counterintuitive because, well, warm water is a better solute, right? And you'd be correct. But that also means warmer water contains a higher amount of CO2 than cold water, the same reason warm sodas go flat. The CO2 that couldn't dissolve before at lower temperatures suddenly can dissolve. This is not good for breathing.

When a hatchling or adult does breathe through their gills, picture it like this: you’re running, and you get a stitch in your side. You continue running while trying to breathe, and your breaths become fast and shallow. The balance of CO2 and oxygen is thrown off by breathing in this way, even though it’s a mechanism meant to try and disperse the buildup of lactic acid from your muscles. As such, you’re breathing, but you are not breathing efficiently. It can't be sustained for long. That, and in this analogy, you're breathing in a liquid, and you'd have to exhale underwater before you try breathing air again. Otherwise, you will start choking. Drowning. One of the two. It’s not the world’s best pulmonary system.

Scale Patterns and Coloration -

So, there’s this very fun form of camouflage present in many real animals called countershading. Countershading is exactly what it sounds like: two different colors working to provide protection in different environmental contexts simultaneously. Thinking mainly of birds and fish here, these organisms often have lighter bellies (ventral coloration) and darker backs (dorsal coloration). This is because when viewed from below, they are backdropped against the sky, or the top of the water column, lit by the sun, which is brighter than the rest of their surroundings. When viewed from above, they are seen backdropped against the darker colors of the ground or the depths of the waters. I think Hearthians should get lighter colored scales (off white/yellow-ish) on their tummies as a treat. 

As for scale patterns, why have patterns at all? What’s the point? There are two answers here, and I will only go into detail with the latter: attraction of mates and more camouflage!

Essentially, like many real animals, it’s likely that their spots/scale patches are a form of camouflage. And in my mind since the Hearthians all have mineral names (or names related to geological features, looking at Esker and Moraine there, lol), the naming convention stems from the idea that tadpoles are initially covered in spots to blend in with the rocky bottom of the pools they hatch in! These spots develop into more complex patterns as they age. …I also imagine their eggs look like rocks in all likelihood. Prevent predation by pretending to be rocks, y’all. No one wants to eat those. 

In short: Proto-Hearthian had spots because rocky bottom of habitat + outside pressures necessitating them = pebble-like spots on tadpoles = oooh, pretty scale patterns in modern Hearthians.

If you made it through this post, kudos to you! No seriously. Thank you for reading. If you want to hear my thoughts about Hearthian egg development, courtship rituals, child rearing structures, or pretty much anything else, my asks are open. I have speculative evolution-based rants for all of that stuff. Also, plants. I have so many thoughts about space plants.

[mysteryevolution]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/64138666

Mind the ao3 tags on this one!

Gabbro experiences the effects of negative inertia and is enlightened to the concept of premature arthritis.

[mysteryevolution]

"When I’m done exploring, I want to make some more quantum art. Maybe some kind of creature sculpture that just, like, shows up and scares the daylights out of you.”

I always found that Gabbro dialogue hilarious so I made a comic about it 💃💃💃

-> More Outer Wilds Art!

[mysteryevolution]

[Major Outer Wilds/EOTE spoilers below the cut!]

HUOHKAY, After chipping away at this for over a month, my Outer Wilds comic is finally done!!

Initially I wanted to do this in two parts, like how many other versions of this beloved Undertale quote have done. But in the middle of thumbnailing the sketch, I thought why not illustrate Hatchling's journey too and I further expanded this project, by a lot hfjdjg

Outer Wilds is such a fantastic game and truly one of a kind, I only hope I did the game justice with this comic I made

----

Some artist notes below, if you're interested in reading all of it!

I began this project around early August!

I separated each page to their own canvases so I don't have a ridiculously huge file size. And each canvas has a different name. From the first to the last, their names go: It's you > Nova > Loop > Lonely > Glade > Despite everything.

Glade was actually a really long canvas that I split into two, bc I wanted to experiment with like a vertical scroll thing. So the Glade pages were split into Glade A and Glade B

My favourite page to work on was page 2, the supernova was fun to make, especially with the pointilism brush that CSP had which made it way easier.

Page 4 initially had a way different layout before I settled with this one. As shown below here:

But when I did a second pass, I rearranged the panels and instead decided to illustrate scenes that Hatchling had with the two.

With Solanum, it's learning and translating her texts on the QM. With Prisoner, it's when you discover the truth and after the vision…

For the Gabbro and Hatchling panel, I changed it so that both are at a distance and facing away from the viewer. As like a sort of way to show that Hatchling is having the reality of the situation dawn on them and try to cope with it. I did name this canvas "lonely" for a reason ::)

My Hatchling's name is Pyrite, or Pyre ::)

[mysteryevolution]

For the Hatchling OC Ask Game, 1, 21, and 39,

1.) Their actual name is Graphite, though they’re sometimes called Graph, particularly by Hal. Hal thinks it’s fun to call them Graph because then their names kind of match, since it’s Halite minus the -ite -> Hal. (This is inspired by my friend and I needing something to call the player character when we played the game together. Obviously so we could blame them when we…crashed the ship into every conceivable object.)

21.) Their least favorite planet is specifically all the water parts of Giant’s Deep. Don’t get them wrong; they love talking to their buddy, but also - they can’t swim. Everything is salt water. The cyclones want to kill them. There are several seconds when breaking through the cloud cover where you can see *nothing*, and that is horrifying to them. Dark Bramble is a close second, but it’s not the worst because at least they can rationalize a wild animal’s behavior in a way. They cannot rationalize an ocean.

39.) Probably a little cliche, but their favorite would have to be Solanum. Together, Graphite and Hal obsessed over the little bit of Nomai text that was kept in the museum to make their translator, and interacting with a real living (kind of) Nomai made them question if the time loop had finally driven them insane. Because that’s the kind of thing they’d DREAMED about. Subsequent visits proved, no, they haven’t gone insane. They definitely confused the heck out of the poor girl by just wordlessly screaming in excitement.

Thank you for the ask! (I didn’t expect anyone, let alone one of the people who made the questions, to ask, lol!)

[mysteryevolution]

HATCHLING OC ASK GAME

How does it work? Reblog this post to let your followers know that your ask box is open for any of the following questions about your Hatchling OC! Followers will place a number or two in your ask box, along with the name of the OC they are inquiring about if you have more than one. Then you’ll answer the ask as it fits your Hatchling OC. 

Does your Hatchling go by any name other than The Hatchling? If so, what?

How old was your Hatchling on their launch day?

Does your Hatchling use pronouns other than they/them? If so, which ones!

How tall is your Hatchling?

Does your Hatchling have scales, whiskers, tails, multiple eye-lids, or some other feature not seen in game?

What color are your Hatchling's eyes?

On a scale of one to ten how perky are their ears? One being tall and pointy like Tephra or Galena, ten being low like Spinel or Gneiss.

Do they wear something other than the canon outfit/space suit?

Does your Hatchling wear jewelry, accessories, or makeup? 

Does your Hatchling have any piercings or tattoos? If so, what and where?

What is your Hatchling’s favorite color?

What is your Hatchling’s favorite food or dish?

How does your Hatchling like their marshmallows?

What is your Hatchling’s stance on sap wine? Why?

What does your Hatchling like to do with their free time?

Is your Hatchling athletic or nerdy?

Is your Hatchling more likely to sass Slate, or leave them wondering why Gossan is letting an airhead launch?

How does your Hatchling approach problem solving? Do they try to think through the problem, attempt to brute force the issue, or stumble across solutions accidentally?

Where does your Hatchling hang out when they are on Timber Hearth?

What is your Hatchling’s favorite planet?

What is your Hatchling’s least favorite planet? Why?

What is your Hatchling’s favorite space tool? Examples include signal scope, translator tool, little scout?

Does your Hatchling have an instrument? If so, what is it?

Does your Hatchling have any specific area of study?

If your Hatchling had to pick a  job other than astronaut what would it be?

Why did your Hatchling join OWV?

After a crash, is your Hatchling more likely to repair their ship or leave it to reset with the loop?

Is your Hatchling a decent pilot? Were they always that way?

If the time loop had never happened, what kind of astronaut would your Hatchling have become?

Which Villager did your Hatchling attach to most while they were growing up?

Is your Hatchling flirtatious?

Is your Hatchling dating anyone? If so, who?

Would your Hatchling OC want hatchlings of their own?

Which lost loved-one is the hardest for your Hatchling to process?

Did your Hatchling ever consider trying to add someone else to the time loop? If so, who? 

How long was your Hatchling stuck in the time loop?

Where in the solar system did your Hatchling visit first?

What was your Hatchling's first death?

Who is your Hatchling’s favorite Nomai and why?

 What discovery was the most shocking for your Hatchling and why?

Was your Hatchling tempted to break space time? If so, did they suspect what would happen?

In a normal game setting, which ending does your Hatchling get?

How deeply in denial was your hatchling about the end of the universe?

How willing is your Hatchling to end a loop early? Do they meditate through it? 

How does your Hatchling feel about the inhabitants of the Stranger blocking the Eye signal?

Does your Hatchling tend to agree more with the Nomai or the Owlks regarding The Eye? Why?

How did your Hatchling feel when they realized they couldn't save anyone? Afraid? Relieved? Angry?

How does your Hatchling really feel about The Eye?

In a post loop AU would your Hatchling ever tell anyone about the loops? Who?

Freebie! Tell us any headcanon you want.

Special thanks to @merrydock, @nephtheless, @poisonhemloc, and @tippertot for helping me come up with some of these questions and providing peer review!

Inspired by this list of OC questions over in the Cult of the Lamb Fandom made by @transtistic. 

[mysteryevolution]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63818119/chapters/163645957

Yet another outer wilds fic. This time, Graphite tries their best to explore Giant’s Deep, but realizes their skill set does not include “ocean.” Gabbro is the best emotional support they’ll get.

[mysteryevolution]

"the freedom"

EXTREMELY last minute submission for Campfire Fest Day 5! intended to just be some cute smoking and smooching, and somehow grew into post-loop hatchling character study. enjoy! @outerwilds-events

prompt: Home wordcount: 5124 (sorry) (I don't know how it happened) ⚠️ warnings: 2nd person pov, smorking weed, base game spoilers, canon-typical existential dread, gabbro/hatchling ✔️ features: smorking weed, a LOT of kissing, fluff, happy ending, gabbro/hatchling. the q in qpr stands for quantum. to me.

~

Even when they weren’t on the same island of the same planet for over nine million days straight, Gabbro was easy to find.

You picked your way down the pebbled slope, next to the creek, keenly aware of the air on your skin and the lightness of your body. Just in the few steps between where you’d landed your ship and the beginning of the incline, you had reached instinctively for your jetpack control stick only for your hand to pass through thin air. It was disorienting every time, each more frustrating than the last. Only another reason to pay your friend a visit.

The temperature dropped as you descended into the crater, which was permanently cast into shadow by the tall pines. It smelled wetter, greener… pine-ier. More alive. Insects gossiped in the undergrowth that managed to eke out an existence in the sparse patches of sunlight. Birds sang from every branch. The crunch of each step turned into more of a scrnch as the soil and gravel under your feet became more damp. Even after everything, the fractally intricate beauty of life on your home world compelled you in a way little else did.

You passed between two towering old trees, which felt a bit like being allowed through a sacred gate of some kind. This place had always brought out those feelings in you, but especially now, after…

You paused and listened. Birds. Insects. The faint shh-shh-shh of tree branches brushing against each other in a faint breeze. The low, whispery sound of a distant flute.

You closed your eyes and the sound abruptly moved to your left. A small smile appeared involuntarily on your lips. You opened your eyes and began to turn circles in place, listening to the deep tones jump from side to side, from close to far and back again, until suddenly the flute sounded like it was right next to you.

You turned and stepped forward to place a hand on the taut edge of the hammock. “Hey, Gabbro.”

To their credit, they seemed entirely unfazed by your abrupt arrival. Both of you had lost your startle responses a long time ago. They lowered their flute and opened their eyes, the lower pair of which crinkled in a slight smile when they saw you. It’d been weeks since you escaped the loop—and the heat death of the universe, somehow—but seeing their actual face and not your own reflection in their visor still filled you with a sense of wonder.

“Oh, hello!” Gabbro said casually. “I thought the acoustics around me were changing unexpectedly. What brings you to my little slice of paradise?”

“Oh, y’know, I figured you’d be here,” you shrugged. Then you grinned, and hoisted your signalscope. “And I cheated.”

“Well, you’re always free to roast a mallow at my campfire,” they replied, bringing the flute back to their lips. And graciously not pointing out that they had asked why, not how, you were here. They were good like that.

You did sit down, cross-legged by the fire, and leaned back to rest your head on Gabbro’s side. Somehow your neck was oriented differently than expected; you realized you were used to assuming this position with a spacesuit and helmet on.

It was weird, being able to feel their actual body instead of the bulk of a spacesuit. The only thing between your skin and theirs was the chunky knit of their sweater. You could feel the shape of their body against you and without thinking, you rolled your head back and forth to map more of it out. On your right, the bony ridge of their lowest ribs, and to your left a soft, squishy expanse that finally met their equally bony hips, at the very edge of the range your neck afforded you. You let your eyes fall closed, enjoying the touch, and the smell of pine trees, and the flute’s slow, thoughtful song.

“Gabbro?”

“Mm?” they hummed without missing a note.

“Do you have any space weed?”

The next note exited the flute offkey and rather explosively, as if perhaps its player had exhaled a surprised laugh directly into the mouthpiece.

“So that’s what brings you to my slice of paradise, huh?” they asked, amused.

You leaned further back, pushing more of your weight against their side. “You know I need to relax.”

“Yeah, you needed to relax about a hundred loops back, buddy. You never asked me about it then. You can handle death by supernova stone-cold sober every day, but one week back home crosses the line?” they teased.

“C’mon, Gabbro,” you rolled your lower eyes. “We both know death by supernova was one of the easiest to handle.”

“Heh. Yeah.” they agreed. “…You do need to relax.”

You didn’t know how to explain why you couldn’t have relaxed in the loop, even to yourself. Rest, sure. You needed that. You’d spent plenty of loops resting at Gabbro’s camp on Giant’s Deep. But the idea of relaxing was intolerably horrifying. Some deep, primal, animal part of you was so terrified and repulsed by the thought that you could never even consider it.

But you weren’t in the loop anymore, and you didn’t come here to think about it. Instead, you latched onto something else they’d said.  “Also, ‘one week’?”

“Two, three weeks, whatever. Nothing wrong with some tasteful hyperbole.”

“Gabbro, it’s been two months.” you said flatly. You kept careful count of the passing days, marking each on the calendar. You had to.

“Oh. Hm. My perception of time might be a bit… loopy.”

“Ugh,” you groaned, lifting your head off their side. You were in no position to call them out for the subtle deflection after your own, so instead you turned to face them with a sly grin. “Sounds to me like you’re ‘relaxing’ too much. And need me to take some off your hands.”

Gabbro heaved a long-suffering sigh and reached for the mesh pocket strapped to their hip. You sat back, satisfied.

The banter was like a cooling balm to your frayed heart and mind. You knew them well enough to know that how much they pretended to put up a fight towards being asked a favor, was directly proportional to how much affection they felt towards that person. You had earned that affection; both of you had. It’d been clawed out of the cracks of a dying universe and clutched to your chest protectively, daring the powers that be to take it from you.

It was nice, having that easy closeness to someone. Once, you’d had that with Hal. Then you took off for your first spaceflight, and a few days later, a completely different person returned in your place, and things just got… complicated. Which was part of the reason why you were here.

You pushed your face into Gabbro’s soft side, grateful for that closeness and savoring it. Their sweater smelled pleasantly of wet earth and campfire smoke, and, if you concentrated, the faintest note of seawater and ceaseless rain. You wondered if it would ever wash out. 

You wondered if any of it would ever wash out.

“Very touchy today, time buddy,” Gabbro observed. You pulled away reluctantly, ears flicking with both embarrassment and irritation towards feeling embarrassed. “Hey, I didn’t say it was a bad thing.”

You leaned back in, enjoying the physical contact too much to deny yourself the pleasure. This time, you turned your head to look at them.

Under your watchful gaze they uncapped a small container and crumbled pinches of its contents between their fingertips. To your untrained eye, it looked like dried moss or lichen, though it certainly smelled stronger. They deftly arranged it on a slip of paper laid flat on their chest, then began rolling the paper into a tube, and you were captivated by the movement of their nimble fingers. You realized you wanted more than just the side of your face touching them. You wanted them in their arms.

Gabbro brought the rolled paper to their lips and licked the outer edge so it would stick and stay down, sealing it. Their gaze flicked to you halfway through the motion, meeting your eyes for a heartbeat. You felt a flare of… not lust, exactly. Just a general, breathtaking want to be closer. You looked away, overwhelmed.

“Here you go,” they said, drawing your attention again. “It’s just regular ol’ Timber Hearth weed, if that’s okay with you. One Gabbro-rolled joint, on the house.”

“I guess that’ll have to do,” you said with mock haughtiness, as you sat up. “Thank you.”

They passed you the joint and a small trifold of waterproof matches with a lazy smile. “Enjoy.”

You struck a match and lit the joint cautiously, then leaned back against them once more to bring it to your mouth. Slowly, you inhaled, in what seemed to you like a good deep breath. When you exhaled, you were rewarded by a tiny puff of white smoke for your efforts, and then promptly doubled over coughing.

Gabbro grinned when you recovered enough to glare at them. “Hey, don’t look at me, the first hit is always like that. No shame in it! It happens to us all.”

“How are you supposed to do it?” you complained. 

You brought it to your lips again for another try. Without warning, Gabbro reached over and gently plucked the joint straight from your mouth.

“I’ll show you,” they said, with a note of impishness you only recognized because you knew them so well. You were too stunned to respond, thoroughly distracted by the simple intimacy of that action.

The embers at the end of the joint brightened to a glowing gold as they breathed deeply, then lowered it. They exhaled a thick white cloud that shrouded their entire hammock in a faint haze for a moment before dissipating.

“Stoner,” you muttered, in a tone both derogatory and affectionate. Pointedly, you folded your arms over your chest.

“Now you try,” Gabbro went on cheerfully.

“Why don’t you just take the hits for me, if you’re so good at it?” you shot back.

Gabbro widened just their upper eyes in a non-verbal expression of incredulity and doubt. You shrugged carelessly in a “may as well” gesture.

They blinked an affirmative and took another hit, this time blowing the smoke straight at you. You did halfheartedly try to breathe in as it passed over you, but the idea was so ridiculous you couldn’t really commit to it.

“Yeah, you were right, that sucked,” you conceded. Momentarily defeated, you tipped your head back and watched the campfire’s sparks rise up towards the distant branches before winking out.

An idea did occur to you, then. An idea that, once upon a time, you would mull over and approach from every angle and thoroughly scrutinize until eventually hyping yourself up to finally, actually try it. But that time was long past, and your impulse control had been eaten away to almost nothing after living so long in a reality where actions didn’t have consequences. So, nearly the moment the idea occurred to you, you acted on it.

“Maybe you just need to blow it to me more directly,” you suggested. It was your turn to sound slightly impish. “Like, straight to the mouth. That’d be more effective, right?”

Gabbro gazed at you for a moment, considering the meaning of your words. For a second you began to doubt your earlier confidence. As always, the habit you’d been grappling with for two months resurfaced, the gentlest and most reassuring whisper in your ear, the promise of painless apathy. We’ll just try again next loop.

“Worth a shot,” Gabbro agreed, mercifully pulling you from that line of thinking. “Here, come closer.”

You shuffled closer and stood on your knees to bring your face to a height where you could look down at theirs. You curled your fingers around the edge of the hammock to hold something for balance, unexpectedly apprehensive. Two intertwined revelations occurred to you suddenly: First, that this was a truly new experience, something you didn’t know the consequence of off the top of your head and even better/worse, something you didn’t have any frame of reference for. Second, that the nature of one of, if not the most important relationship you had may be about to change irrevocably. It was terrifying. It was exciting. It was intoxicating. Your heart raced in your chest.

Once more, Gabbro brought the joint to their lips and took a long, deep breath. They kept your eyes on yours for the whole breath, asking a silent question. Under their searching gaze, you felt another flash of that crushing, visceral want, and stared back silent confirmation.

They lowered it and then reached out to cup your face, fingertips skipping over your cheeks before coming to a stop with their thumbs resting on your cheekbones. You could feel the exact moment your brain turned off. Everything just went blank. Involuntarily, all four of your eyes fluttered closed, content to leave your face in their capable hands. They pulled you closer, pulled you in, and you remembered to open your mouth—and their lips brushed yours, met yours—and you ceased to exist. A nebula of blinding sensations remained in your place. The softness against your lips. The gentle, enveloping touch of their hands on your cheeks. Hands that pulled you in and kept you close, kept your lips to theirs. The smoke filling your mouth that you were supposed to breathe. Oh, right. You’d almost forgotten.

You breathed it all in slowly, feeling your lungs fill and your chest expand, and finally broke away to breathe out and up, over your heads. To your dismay, their hands slipped off your cheeks as you pulled away. This time, miraculously, somehow you didn’t cough at all. It had only lasted a few seconds, but what a few seconds it was.

You looked back down at Gabbro, starry-eyed. “Wow.”

“Pretty cool, huh? What do—”

“Can we do it again?”

They smiled and took another hit. You didn’t need their hand to guide you this time; the second the joint left their mouth, you were leaning in to replace it. You pressed your lips to theirs, so hastily that they hadn’t begun breathing out yet and for a split second, you really were just kissing. They made a faint noise of surprise under you, a noise you felt more than heard. Then, ever-so-gently, their free hand came up to cup your chin, as if to hold you steady.

You filled your lungs and hesitated, loathe to pull away. It felt so good to be touching like this, to be so close. But the pressure in your chest was too uncomfortable to bear for long, so you leaned back and exhaled a long plume of white smoke once more. This one did tickle your throat on the way out and you turned away to cough. Somehow, Gabbro’s hand had ended up on your shoulder. You quietly cherished the reassuring weight of it.

When the fit subsided, you turned back to face them and laid your arm on their stomach to hide your face in the crook of it, giggling. Their sweater was so soft.

“Wow, is it hitting that fast?” Gabbro asked. Their hand fell to your forearm, where their fingers curled around it casually.

You peered up at them from their sweater, still smiling. You shook your head. “You know that’s not why I’m laughing.”

Did you know why you were laughing? Simply put, you were giggling with pure glee. Joy from the closeness, the physical touch, the incomparable vibrancy of a truly, completely new experience, the warmth of such deep, mutual trust. Joy from having this, right here, right now, after everything. Joy from the absurdity of it all. You hoped they knew, because you certainly didn’t know how to put the small enormity of those emotions into words.

Gabbro squeezed your forearm gently, bringing you back to Hearth. Your gaze flicked to them.

After so long talking to their visor, you tried to savor their real face whenever you could. You never wanted to take it for granted. Their scales were a little darker than yours and slightly closer to aqua than a true blue. Irregular stripes, similar to Gossan’s, patterned their face, neck, and arms. Their eyes were often heavily lidded, as Gabbro seemed to spend most of their time relaxing and/or lost in thought, but when something caught 100% of their attention, their eyes became round and gained a sparkle to them.

You especially liked their ears, with their gauged lobes and small hoops near the pointed ends. You’d been meaning to ask them to pierce your own. You wanted a physical, bodily reminder of something you hadn’t had when you started the loop.

“That looks like a lot of overthinking for someone trying to relax,” Gabbro noted.

“Yeah, you’re right. One more hit?” you suggested cheekily.

They took another long drag off the joint, beckoning you closer with their free hand. You lifted your face and placed your chin in their beckoning hand, enjoying the touch immeasurably. You moved your hand from their stomach to their shoulder to be better positioned over their face. They drew you in with the hand cupping your face.

This time, you were slow and thoughtful, determined to savor every second to the fullest. You watched their eyes fall closed as you leaned in, faintly smiling. Gently, you touched your lips to theirs and appreciated the soft sensation of it before opening your mouth slightly to breathe in. You inhaled slowly and steadily, feeling your chest expand, noting the roughness of the smoke in your throat. For just a moment, you pressed into their lips as your lungs reached capacity, trying to breathe in as much as you could. Finally, you pulled away and breathed out with a sigh.

When you glanced down, Gabbro looked a little starry-eyed this time. Their mouth still slightly parted, the corners upturned in the smallest smile, eyes half-lidded and locked on you; the picture of contentment and pleasant surprise.

The impulse struck inevitably, and you stood no chance of countering it.

You kissed them. For real, no justification, no smoke, no distractions. As if pulled in by the sun’s gravity, you lowered your face towards them.

You touched your lips to theirs softly. Not wanting to be too intrusive, you didn’t apply any real pressure, intending to pull away quickly. But before you could, the hand still on your cheek pulled you down more forcefully. Your mouth fell open slightly, somewhat in shock, but mostly just forced apart by the physicality. And here, you discovered the unparalleled, electric sensation of actually moving your lips against each others’. It was, wonderfully, like nothing you’d ever experienced before. How had you lived your entire life, not to mention a time loop, without this? The hand resting on their shoulder gripped it involuntarily, overwhelmed by your senses and this deep craving to get closer. Chest to chest, you leaned into them until the hammock swung outwards slightly. You could almost feel their heartbeat against yours. Their other hand appeared on your other cheek, holding you thrillingly in place. You were aflame with sensation from every nerve, the pressure and movement on your lips, their breaths on your nose, their comforting weight against your chest, their hands clasping your face warmly.

All at once, it became a little too much. You broke away reluctantly, breathing hard. When you looked down at them, you were both grinning.

“Just need a second,” you explained. You reached up to hold their wrists and leaned into their hands happily.

“No worries. Take your time,” Gabbro said. Gently, they rubbed their thumbs over your cheekbones. You leaned even further in with a sigh, closing your eyes.

Normally you’d have something witty to say here, a way for you to process the situation and respond to it simultaneously, but for once words escaped you. Besides, it seemed strangely disrespectful to your own emotions to fill the air with meaningless chatter right now.

Instead, you opened your eyes to look at them again and drifted closer, once more drawn towards their lips. Before you get there, you spot them quickly take a breath to speak and pause, hovering just an inch or two from their face.

“Can I try something?” Gabbro murmured, meeting your eyes.

“Of course,” you answered, forever chasing new experiences.

They pulled you closer and closed the distance between you.

Instantly, you melted into them. You could feel them smile against your mouth and you pushed a little closer, wanting more. Your hands slipped from their wrists, one falling to your side and the other planted on their chest.

Something soft and warm touched the boundary between your lips and it takes you a second to realize its their tongue. That certainly is a new experience, and who are you to deny yourself a curiosity satisfied? Slightly giddy—the hits might be, well, hitting right about now—you opened your mouth slightly to let them in. Maybe now you’ll find out what all the fuss is about.

You always thought making out would be gross. And it kind of was, but it’s also so awesome that all coherent thought, including forming opinions, are burned away by the white-hot haze overflowing in your chest and filling your head.

Their hands moved over your skin. One cupped the back of your head and the other slid down to gently clasp the side of your neck. The sensation felt like it was glowing on your skin. You weren’t sure if that was just because of the rush, or the mind-altering substance you took a second ago.

You decided leaning over Gabbro's head from the side isn’t enough. Still kissing, you shifted position to be more parallel to the hammock, laying half-across them and resting your chest on theirs. Somehow, the soft solidity of their body under you was the most comfortable thing you’d experienced in recent memory. You moved one hand to their shoulder and raised the other to touch their face. It was exhilarating, holding each other like this. You were overloaded with sensation. You wanted to hold all of them.

It was surprisingly easy to forget to breathe under the circumstances, so eventually you had to pull away to catch your breath. Gabbro's hands slid down your neck and shoulders to your arms where they held you gently. There were no words to sum up your current feelings, so you just grinned heartily at them instead and hoped they understood all the meaning you poured into it. By way of response, they leaned into the hand still resting on their cheek with a small, sleepy smile.

“Can I get in the hammock with you?” you asked hopefully. The faint rasp to your voice surprised you—a side effect of the smoke or of making out?

They glanced down at the end of the hammock, then shook their head against your hand. “Nah, the ropes won’t support the weight of both of us. I’ll do you one better though. Here, sit cross-legged again.”

You drew back with a sigh and readjusted yourself on the ground. The fire was getting a little low, you noted.

Gabbro sat up, stretched, and rolled sideways out of the hammock next to you. Then, they sank to their knees and all at once, appeared in your lap. They were a full head taller than you when you stood next to each other, and taller still when perched in your lap and grinning down at you. You had to crane your neck to see their face.

“Hi,” you grinned back, leaning forward to wrap your arms around their waist. “This is one better.”

They placed one hand on your inner shoulder for balance, thumb brushing your collarbone, and tipped your chin up with the other. Then, they leaned down to meet your mouth and kiss the smile right off your face.

You weren’t sure how long the two of you stayed like that, making out in each other’s arms. Every second stretched out and blurred with the next, as thick and sweet as syrup. You couldn’t believe you’d lived your entire life without kissing someone like this, their weight on your lap, feeling their body flex and shift in your arms, their hand on your face, the soft friction of their lips moving against yours. You weren’t sure you could ever live without it again. It felt like all the stars in the sky had congregated in your chest, heating you from the inside, light pouring out from between each rib.

Slowly, their hands danced over your skin. At the side of your neck, where your pulse hummed against their palm. Tracing your jawline and caressing your cheek. Pressed flat to your upper chest. Touching the sensitive base of your ears and earning a rare startle response from you for their efforts. How sublime was it to still be startled by things, after all you had seen and done? They ran their hands gently along the full length of your ears. Involuntarily, you sank into them with a relaxed sigh. You weren’t sure you’d felt this relaxed, and comfortable, and satisfied, and vulnerable yet safe, since long before the time loop. Maybe ever? You were glad/relieved that weed lived up to its reputation.

Eventually, a realization slowly dawned on you; while you were still receiving sensation from every other scale they touched, you hadn’t actually heard anything from your lips in a while. You pulled away to investigate at this new phenomena.

“Mlehhh,” you said intelligently, running your tongue over your lips.

Gabbro nodded sagely. “Go on.”

“My lips feel weird. Numb, kinda? I dunno.”

“The nerves are probably desensitized from all the stimulation,” they shrugged. “Let’s give ‘em a breather.”

Something about their simple, matter-of-fact explanation of the fact you’d just been kissing too hard for too long, struck you as humorous. Possibly the funniest thing you’d ever heard, even. You burst out laughing and leaned into their chest, hiding your face in their wonderfully soft and squishy sweater as giggles shook your body. Their arms folded around you, holding you against their chest.

“What? I’m not that bad a kisser, am I?” they said, with a smile in their voice.

You laughed even harder and slapped the ground, overcome with mirth. Everything that would normally get a smile or a singular laugh out of you, had become indescribably hilarious. You could feel Gabbro beginning to snicker too. They hugged you to their chest until your laughter petered out and you finally caught your breath.

You leaned back, and kept leaning back until the back of your head touched the ground. A new giggle bubbled out of you, this time driven less by humor and more of an expression of pure, overflowing joy. You reached out blindly, making grabby motions into thin air until Gabbro’s hands caught yours. Their fingers interlocked with yours like precisely machined couplings.

“I think I’m in love with you,” you said happily. “I think I’m in love with everyone.”

How could you possibly put all of it into words? The realization that you could kiss them for as long as you wanted and only ever be interrupted by fellow Hearthians or possibly inclement weather? The realization that you could kiss anyone for as long as you wanted? That you could do anything you wanted. You could not do anything you wanted. It was never going to be rudely interrupted by the heat death of the universe. You could take on long-term projects that take more than 22 hours to complete. Other people would see it. For better or for worse, everything you did could be seen and talked about by others. It would stay. They would stay.

The realization that finally, delightfully, magnificently, profoundly, your actions would have consequences.

You sniffled. Your laughter had taken on a distinctly “close to crying” quality.

“All good, time buddy?” Gabbro asked gently, squeezing your hands.

You opened your eyes, letting the tears roll down the sides of your face and wet the ground below. “Yeah. I’m good. It’s just—we can do this as long as we want, and it won’t be cut off by an unpleasant fiery death—or at least, it’s statistically very unlikely—and we could do it with anyone, and they’d remember, and—” you broke off, suddenly dangerously close to really crying, sobs and all. You released Gabbro’s hands to cover your eyes, embarrassed. In a small voice, you finished your thought. “I’m just so happy.”

“Aww, buddy…”

“Can you come here?” you asked wetly and somewhat pathetically.

You heard shuffling as Gabbro joined you on the ground. You stretched your legs out with relief; they’d been going numb from being folded so long. Then, you turned sideways to throw your arms around them and pull them in. You tucked their head under your chin and hugged them closely, grateful beyond measure for… everything that was happening right now.

“This feels really good. And that’s not just the weed talking,” you mumbled into the top of their head. “Though it does help.”

Gabbro wrapped their arms around your middle and hugged you just as tightly.

“Can we just… do this?” you asked. “Like, be friends who make out?”

“‘Course we can,” they replied into your chest, slightly muffled. “It’s like you just said. We can do whatever we want.”

“Awesome,” you whispered.

Tomorrow, you’d talk to Hal. You’d apologize for being so avoidant lately, even if you weren’t sure you were ready/capable of explaining why, yet. You could simply tell them that, and you trusted they’d accept it, because they were Hal, and you were their favorite astronaut. And then, you’d rebuild the irreplaceable relationship you’d once had, log by painstaking log, because you could. What was going to stop you?

But for now, you were going to hold your time buddy in your arms and reflect on the gift of being alive, and probably pass out on the forest floor with them. Your back would be sore in the morning, because time would actually pass while you were asleep, time your body would feel even if your mind did not, and a new day that everyone else perceived as a new day would break. You could come back and enjoy physical contact with Gabbro whenever you wanted, without dying unpleasantly in between. You could do whatever you wanted. You could be whoever you wanted.

You and Gabbro did pass out on the forest floor, wrapped around each other, sleeping mercifully peacefully next to a dying fire in a living universe.

[mysteryevolution]

Suitless Gabbro. Because I think they’re neat

[mysteryevolution]

OUTER WILDS FANDOM THIS IS AN IMPORTANT QUESTION

do. the hearthians. purr. or at least do they have an equivalent. like, since theyre lizard/amphibian people would they retain some of the ability to make lizard/amphibian noises? or would it disappear after they're not babies anymore, like their need to be moist when theyre tadpoles?

asking for. science. yeah. *hides my fluff behind me totally secretly* i'm totally NOT a sucker for cute Creature behavior no not at all ahaha

edit: actually let me make this a poll so i get an actual kind of visual

[mysteryevolution]

time buddies hurt/comfort of any kind??? mayhaps?? going both ways even?? tbh i’m constantly craving time buds content in general and your art style is SO good i will take anything and everything you put out there

Something is brewing...

(This ask was the perfect excuse to finally draw an idea I've had for a while! It's a bit long to post it at once, though- so I'll eventually post the next part! And thank you for the kind words too <3)

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-> More Outer Wilds Art!

[mysteryevolution]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62982085

I wrote a one-shot about the Hatchling experiencing the type of introspection really only a time loop could induce. (Totally wasn’t meant to be a small section of different story, no. I would never let my writing run away from me like that.)

If you like a Hatchling that’s a bit of jerk, undeniably weird, and who inevitably breaks the fabric of the universe, this is the fic for you.