#Crescent prism

[hungry-skeleton]

Happy 10 years of games from my favourite indie dev ever, Torch60! I discovered these games pretty late in their lifetime but I love each and every one so much! Please play Torch60's RPGs THEY'RE ALL FREE!!

Itch.io page - Steam page (less games then the itch.io page)

[audart]

Characters from my partner's upcoming game Crescent Prisim

[bugfragged]

I'm guessing that later chapters would have been structured as Lunita's POV followed by Nova's POV. Maybe we would have been able to fight Lunita's party as the Sundown Squad?

INVERT THE MOON - Let's Play 「 Crescent Prism Chapter 1 (Hard) 」 - 4

[sailormoonnoir]

🌙

[impscreation]

Crescent moons always make me think of sailor moon.

[hungry-skeleton]

@brownie-grill

I'm done with found family, give me evil polycules instead.

[sterlingssuncatchers]

Handmade window cling suncatchers available here 🌈

[revelisms]

I keep nosing through my half-written Arcane things and feeling the itch to write it again, so I finally dusted off this little ficlet. Short and sweet domestic oneshot about Jinx, Silco's oddball crime family, and card games 🃏

stratagems

WC: 1.6k | Rating: G | Jinx-centric | Domestic fluff, found family, gambling, character study Also on AO3

Tuesdays are slow nights at the Last Drop—the kind that smoulder on for hours, the neon dimmed to only a fractal prism across velvet booths and varnish-glossed tables: nights for myths and recollections spun to liquor-sweet grandeur, and books read aloud in grinning theatrics, and cards shlack-clack-clacked together between Sevika's weathered fingers, slicked across the table like darts to waiting hands.

When she was meek and younger and still reeling from it all, these nights felt magical. In some ways, they held a candle to those small, rare moments, carefully treasured, of when things in that dingy little storeroom, cramped between three others and Vander's bellowing laugher, felt okay. 

It's different, now. 

The storeroom's locked up; her brothers and sister-mother-Vi are all gone, gone, gone; Vander's dead, betrayed, rotting, deserved; she's older and restless and lonely and bored. 

But there are three others, still. 

Sat at a table across from Sevika's rippling hands—glinting augmentation and golden rings, shuffling cards with a magician's ease—is a mountain of a man, his sickly-pale skin littered with a patchwork of black tattoos. 

Lock. Hemlock, when she'd told him Lock was a weird name—and then he'd glared down at her with his beady eyes, incense smoke-blue: gruffed, Don't you call me it.

He had a puggishness about him, not a hair on his body save the coarse clumps that lined his burly arms and flared out from the low cut of his tattered tank like a spit of soot. His voice was cavernous and dry: not like Silco's: like he'd swallowed rocks and kept the dust, rumbling and rough with a gravel that flowed like music on a foggy day; Lock's was deep and scratchy and altogether unpleasant, but warm. He wheezed more than laughed. His smile split his face to a crescent of yellowing pikes. He called her Little Devil.

He swipes up six cards between his bulky fingers, tongues his cheek, and skips two over to Ran—who Silco said once went by Rania; who kept their hair sharp as black fins. Jinx could count on one hand the number of times they'd said more than five words in passing to her. Their eyes were like dim violets, and they soothed her, in the strangest way: found the ache in her heart like a quiet beacon, and held it. They liked to tousle their metal fingers through her hair, muss her fringe to a squealing mess. They called her Blue.

At the bar, bent over a dissembled revolver carved with gold, sat dusty little Dustin, head in the clouds, painted nails flecked with gun oil and a rag in his ink-blitzed hands. Talking to him was like dissecting a parable. He spoke in tongues, seemingly flipping through his days on a catalogue of obscure references: a code one had to crack over a lifetime to understand. Jinx, though, had taken the feat to heart. She'd spent hours peering through his craftings and margin-scrawled notes, like one may study an abstract to glean its meaning. She would squirm next to him when the nights grew too quiet, painting in the chips of varnish on his nails and humming his strange tunes. He had eyes like black buttons, and freckles on his nose. His smile was the kindest. He called her Jay.

She didn't know which name she liked best—which one of them she liked best. But she liked the lot of them all more than Sevika.

At least they didn't glare at her, or call her brat or runt, or wait for her to screw things up, like always. 

Then again. She was, first and foremost to them, some kid in their boss's care—she'd heard Lock grumble that more than once, like a warning—their boss, who had been nose-deep in a monstrosity of trade edicts and contracts and whatever else; who hadn't given her a glance when she peeked her head around the door to his office, huffing, Not now, Jinx. 

That had been hours ago. He still hadn't come down.

She kicks the toe of her boot against her chair, sat in a knot with its back to her chest, and sighs. 

The cards dance between Sevika's hands like a flurry of white-capped wings. Jinx watches from three tables away as she flicks out another round, a cigarillo embering between her teeth.

"Two for two."

"'Course you gives us that," Lock snarls. "Deck's loaded."

"All skills of the trade." A puff of smoke, the roll twisting between ambered fingers. "Dish 'em out, you brute."

The cards glimmer spell-like across the table. Jinx presses her chin into her arm, trying and failing and trying again to follow the strategy of the game. They moved in turns of three: trading in singles, drawing pairs, discarding all at once. It was too quick for her to follow. 

Footsteps creak down the stairs. She whips over her shoulder, staring through her fringe. Thieram—Chuck, as she'd insisted on calling him, just to make his ears color—meets her eyes with a skittish blink, and beelines for the bar. She scowls, hunching back in her seat.

Ran wins the round, with a coy grin and a smack of their cards on the table. Lock pounds the varnish hard enough to knock the deck over.

Jinx aches to put on a gramophone record, to get up and dance, bang on that dusty old piano by the back tables, anything. More creaking down the stairs, glass rattling, Dustin humming his old songs, boots th-thump th-thumping slow over the panelling. 

She smells the spice-sweet of his cigars before she feels him find his way beside her. 

His presence is less a quiet comfort as it is a blistered, bleeding reconnection: the wash of his cold energy startling, and sharp, and soothing, all at once.

"At it again, are they?" Silco drawls.

Jinx pitters her fingers over her elbow. "Yeah."

He hums. He's wearing green today: a dark, blueish sort. "Give them an ounce of time to themselves, and they gamble it away," he grouses. His fingers tick. He sighs. "I've kept you." The words carry the start of an apology. "This week's dealings were—"

"Unexpected?" Jinx quips.

"One could say."

"Annoying?"

"Dreadfully."

"Mister Finn being a big stupid-head, again?"

"A horrendous one." A small smirk slides over his mouth, crooked at one corner: the one he reserves only for her. "But no matter." 

It's a roundabout dismissal. It means, I'm sorry; means, My time is yours, now; means he will wait until she proffers an explanation for her gawping through the smoke-hazed green of his office, anything beyond I just wanted to sit with you, but anything beyond that would be a lie.

She presses her thumb into the chair's spine. After a moment, his eyes flit down to her. "They've not showed you how to play?" he mutters.

She shakes her head.

"It's simple enough." He folds his hands behind his back, tilting his head, and watches the whirlwind of motion that continues on before them. "You know the suits, don't you?" A shrug of her shoulders. "Well, then. Four kings; four aces. Hold either set of those, and you win. Anything in the middle is fair game to keep, or toss, or trade."

She frowns. "That's it?" It had seemed far more complicated than that, from all she'd gleaned.

"That's it." His eyes fall on her, mismatched. His fingers turn at his back. "Come," he murmurs, "I'll show you. One can hardly learn, without practice." 

As seemed to be his philosophy for everything, for better or worse. Trial by fire, mastery through mistake, and all that.

(Who's to say whether one can sink or swim, without first giving themselves to the deep?) 

He'd carried that philosophy like a mantle when he had sent her on her first missions, shadowing her movements with watchful eyes; or when he had tasked her with duties under Sevika's wing, or Lock's, or Ran's, or Dustin's. In things as small and simple as organizing his paperwork for him (client contracts on the bottom, client files above that, then industry reports, and industry-related headlines, and financial records); in things as precise as his daily injections of shimmer to his rotted eye, that she had learned and denied was killing him by inches, her finger shaking on the trigger that first and only time (nothing different from a bullet, child) and nimble as a fine-tuned machine, ever since.

He steps away from the shadows, into the gold, an unspoken invitation—and she watches, quietly intrigued, at the actions that follow: chairs squeaked, smokes raised, Sir's and Hey, Boss's bounced around the table. Sevika drags up an extra seat. He gives a nod to her reshuffled cards and Thieram's expectant glance, in turns.

A tray of carved glasses and a fifth of whisky is carried over, each gift deposited to the table in heavy thunks. Silco takes the first pour. The ambered sheen of the liquor fractures over the table like shattered glass. "Have a seat, child."

She's on her feet, sheepishly, in an instant: clumsy steps skittering over the floor: a birdish thing at a table of wolves, trying fruitlessly to don their fangs. 

A chair is cleared for her between Lock's black-mapped shoulder and Ran's tick-ticking fingers. She slumps into it, quickly. Sevika's eyes burn into her.

Silco deals out thirty cards—six for each of them—with a lazying flourish of his fingers, and ends the litter on Jinx.

"A game of luck," he tells her, without care for the looming prowl of their company. The gravel of his voice has the strangest way of twisting the world on its head, as though it is only the two of them. It always does. "Welcome to Crowns."

He gives a touch of a smile, there and gone in an instant. She smiles sheepishly back.

Then, the five of them descend upon their drawings—and, quick as lightning, they play.

[voldkat]

guess who figured out how to do botched 3d modeling . and continued doing so for the entire day . to feed the shape autism

this was inspired by the fact that i have hyperspecific headcanons for how the geometry of their heads and antennae . like every time i draw them i picture their shapes in my brain and rotate them . it's so fucked up /silly

also note that none of their face patterns are dented into their heads !!! the website just kinda fucks up and gets confused sometimes when merging shapes lmao all of these mfs have flat faces

sorry unparalleled innocence fans inno is not here again because i am Still trying to figure out its colors ( getting distracted and forgetting to ) . i might make a follow up post with its model if i ever get around to it ( and might model my ocs along with it )

closeups of each iterator ( sorted by age ) + design notes for all of them + the tinkercad project link below the cut :3c

LOOKS TO THE MOON

MEWNIE !!! a fairly normal looking iterator head . spherical shape . flat cylindrical earpieces with slots to support the antennae . doesn't get any more standard than that WEHBHJF

her antennae are very much standard too !! average height , average width , rectangular little things with singular yellow strips near the end . just an average old model during a time when the ancients were still in the middle of figuring things out

and also the circle mark on her forehead looks more like a crescent moon or a pearl in my design . which is very cool ( symbolism for both her name having "moon" in it and the fact that she's in the scholar passage )

SLIVER OF STRAW

ok . her design is also fairly standard but her antennae are a bit Strange . i figure this might be around the time the ancients are starting to experiment a little , but not as intensely as they do with the second gens

the rest of my iterator designs with antennae have sharp bends and are usually flattened prisms or extruded shapes , with the silly color patterns clear and visible on the side faces . sliver however . she's got ROUND !! almost like some sort of stretched out cylinder !!! AND her color patterns are on the top face and actually dented into the antennae , making it hard to spot them !!!! what a fucked up design . why is she like this /silly

nothing else of note to say tho so we're moving on :3c

CHASING WIND

WE'RE IN GEN 2 NOW GUYS !!! i actually Don't have a hyperspecific headcanon on what their antennae look like so i just eyeballed it based on how i usually draw them . they're certainly a weird shape . rectangular-ish prism thing that gets wider at the top with an ellipse cut out of it . and the color patterns are at the base of the antennae instead of near the top like they usually would be . they look like fucked up bug horns almost

you see the front of the antennae ? where the oval cutout doesnt reach ? yeah . that's not a modelling mistake . that's intentional . there's one little section where the top is nice and flat . what the fuck is up with these tennas /silly

i may give them a secondary pattern on their face later like suns' Lines On Face (/ref) if i feel like making that a signature design choice for gen 2 iterators . but for now all you get is Peculiar Antennae

NO SIGNIFICANT HARASSMENT

OH BOY . EASILY the one with the weirdest head shape . extruded rounded square for a head . screen face . no antennae at all . fucking Gamer Headphones . he was built WAY too different . built correctly ( fit for his purpose ) but also not ( breaks every single known iterator puppet design convention ) /silly j

on a more serious note , his earpieces are significantly thinner ( more flush with his head ) than average , and don't have the antenna notches !! that's the only reasonable comparison i can make tho because he looks SO Fucking Different

there are other little details that i feel i have to mention . like his screen is dented inwards a little . his 'mic' thing isn't touching his face but only by a slim margin . his fucked up eyeball isn't flat or dented in but actually extends out in the shape of a semicircle ish thing . yeah that's about it honestly

SEVEN RED SUNS

okay back to relative normalcy . except the shape of their antennae fucked me up SO bad that it was the sole reason i decided to model these fucks in the first place

they're almost triangular prisms but the outward facing triangle is like slanted inwards slightly . which makes the upright lateral faces weird right trapezoids instead of rectangles . but also they have extra joints at the base of their antennae which allow for more movement !! Thankfully those joints a pretty normal shape ( ordinary cuboid )

also another detail i want to mention is the Lines On Face . the lines bend at 90 degree angles . the left / right sides disappear below the earpieces but the bottom sides kinda just . Stop . after some point . idk that's all i have really

FIVE PEBBLES

AAAAND with gen 3 we've looped back to fairly standard looking !!! he looks just like his sister but with the colors swapped around , and longer thinner antennae . and the fuckass stripes on his face i guess . one of the newest models , yet with little to no thought put into customization , since his creators are getting tired of waiting

it's interesting to me how he's the only design without a symbol logo thing in the middle of his forehead . perhaps the ancients ran out of feasible forehead symbols ? or maybe just a staple of gen 3 iterators ? who knows . all i can do is speculate and make shit up

AND !! as promised , the link , except you'll have to make an account to see it for some reason :

[chaos-cousins]

[A video is embedded.

You can hear Ene chanting from Ren's phone. "Do it! Do it! Do the pose!"

Ren sighs, and scowls. "Finnnnne."

He raises his hand towards the ceiling, then shouts, while fighting off a smile, "Moon Prism Power! Make up!"

And then a crescent moon shaped bow appears in his hand.

"WHAT," Ren shouts.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" Ene shouts.

"HOW DID I DO THAT?!"

"YOU'RE THE ONE WHO SUMMONED THE BOW! YOU SHOULD KNOW!"

"I DON'T!"

There's a pause, before Ene responds again. "Wow. That's totally useless."

Ren sighs. "Yeah. It is. Elena's better off having this than I am."]

[hungry-skeleton]

Sun polycule come back...,, come back to me..

[pocketramblr]

that sailor moon au part one

Holy shit, a talking cat!

“Holy shit, a talking cat.” En breathed, squatting down to look at the animal that had broken in and taken his futon.

“Yes.” It said, amused and batting at his finger when he tried to poke it. “I am Midnight. I’ve been looking for you, En.”

“And it knows my name.” Why had it been looking for him? Was he on some sort of animal hit-list?

“I wanted to thank- oh, I use she/her pronouns actually.” The cat corrected.

En pinched himself. It hurt but maybe that didn’t mean anything. “The talking cat knows what pronouns are.”

“Of course I do; human gender- and sexuality- are so fascinating! Ah, but that doesn’t matter right now, don’t distract me! I wanted to say thank you for helping me out earlier this morning, even though it made you late to your class.”

En would have been late anyway.

“No problem.” He shrugged, fully accepting this was a dream.

“And, I want to give you something.” She spun around, and then held out a golden pin between her teeth.

En stared at it.

Midnight waved her face at him a bit, tail flicking.

“Where did you get that?” He asked, like an answer would make sense if he asked the question out loud, like a dream would have consistency other than just being confusing. “You don’t have any pockets, you’re naked.”

The cat dropped the pin on his futon.

“I’m nude, actually.” She corrected, again. “But take it and put it on, En!”

“So pushy.” He muttered. “You’re just like Nana-nee.” But he put it on anyway, fastening it to his jacket near the collar.

The silver crescent moon stood out against the red fabric, almost shining. It didn’t look bad, and it wasn’t his normal style, but for some reason he didn’t feel the desire to remove it. Probably the weird dream logic.

“Now, repeat after me! Moon Prism Power, One For All!” Midnight said.

“Moon prism power, one for all?” En repeated.

And then suddenly, he was glowing.

An energy raced through him, cold and electrifying, though it didn’t hurt. His heartbeat raced in his ear to a strange rhythm, and stars raced past his eyes.

When they faded, he felt taller.

He looked down to see he was wearing boots with a bit of a platform- oh, and completely different clothes.

In a blur, he darted from his room to the bathroom to look in the mirror.

He was wearing a jacket like his old high school gakuran, except in dark blue instead of black. He had matching blue shorts and high socks tucked into the almost-as-high boots. The buttons and buckles shone silver like the band sitting cool across his forehead, mostly hiding by his hair, which had a moon crescent in the center- it matched the pin Midnight gave him, and so did the earrings dangling from his ears.

Wait. Only one of his ears was pierced.

Dream, right.

It was getting harder to believe that…

“This isn’t a dream, is it?” he asked.

Midnight jumped up onto the bathroom counter and shook her head.

“No, En, it’s all real. And I need you to become the Moon Scout.”

“The moon what?”

“The pretty guardian of love and justice.”

“The what?”

Midnight didn’t get a chance to answer his question- instead all he could focus on was a sudden ringing in his ear- well, just under his ear.

“Help!” a voice echoed. “We’re at the jewelry store off Besupin and 8th, she’s- ah!”

“Shimura-san?” a different voice asked, tinny, through a phone, “Are you still there, Shimura-san?”

En heard Midnight’s voice, but not what she said- he was instead remembering earlier when he’d gotten home from class, heard Nana and Sorahiko talking in the kitchen as they microwaved lunch. Something about an outrageous sale going on, and Nana and her boyfriend heading there after their own classes.

En had asked if they’d been going out long enough for an engagement ring to be considered, and after laughing at how Nana had nailed him in the head with an empty takeout box, Sorahiko had gotten his own jab in: “Do you really want a discount engagement ring? That’s not really romantic is it?”

Nana had sniffed and declared that a wedding she could actually afford to feed herself and her husband afterwards was the most romantic one. Then En had fled before she could aim another throw at him for saying that he was pretty sure she wouldn’t be the one cooking and feeding her spouse.

But now, if Shimura-kun was at the store, and calling for help-

“Tell me how to get there.” He told Midnight, who nodded and leapt from the counter without a word.

En’s heart was racing the whole way, audible even over the pounding of his boots.

The store wasn’t far, but any minute delay-

Sirens, red lights.

The police surrounded the place, a crowd of people by them.

“Maam, stop!” One raised his voice. “You cannot go back in there!”

“My boyfriend is in there!” Nana- oh god that was his sister, she was fine- but Shimura-kun wasn’t.

En blew past the crowd, and the officers.

“Hey, wait!” Another tried to call after him.

“Is that the Deku Scout?” another asked.

En didn’t even turn around. He didn’t want Nana to see his face, because if she knew he was in there she wouldn’t let herself be held back anymore.

He pushed open the door, and almost collapsed against it, panting.

There were a group of people huddled against the back counter, and more strewn across the floor, unconscious or- he didn’t want to think about it.

In the middle of the store, a figured held up a person with one hand, the other glowing on their face.

“Let them go, now!” He demanded, straightening up and walking inside.

The figure turned to look over their shoulder at him- and then kept turning, the neck bending and contorting in ways it shouldn’t.

En’s stomach dropped.

The door shut behind him.

Suddenly he felt cold.

It was hard to swallow.

“Who are you?” The thing demanded, dropping their victim.

“I’m-“ En wasn’t sure what to say- “the Moon Scout.”

“The moon scout?” The thing repeated, and suddenly words were pulled from En’s dry throat.

“Yeah, the pretty guardian of love and justice, if you want to surrender now.”

“Love? Justice? Surrender?” The thing laughed more with each word, and as they laughed their body stretched and bulged, sharp and jagged. “I think not, little boy.”

Then they lunged, arm stretching to claw at him.

En threw himself to the side.

The ground he crashed into shook, and tile cracked under the thing’s claw.

That had almost been him.

“Moon Scout!” Midnight’s voice echoed from one of his earrings. “Fight back!”

“How do I do that?” He asked, racing behind a counter of jewelry as the thing got back up and growled at him.

“Repeat after me, Midnight Shroud!”

“Midnight Shroud!” En screamed, and suddenly dark smoke billowed from his uniform, filling the room in seconds.

He blinked, and realized he could still see the outline of things and people, if not much else.

En began to move, staying low, edging the length of the counter.

Something slammed into the glass where he’d been.

It shattered, some hitting against the back of his coat.

He froze.

“Not so brave are you now, moon boy?” The thing asked. “Come out, let me see where you are… I bet you have lots of energy and individuality my master would love to take.”

En… wasn’t even going to try and parse that. He looked back to where the hostages who were still awake sat. Maybe they could at least leave, under cover, but where was Shimura-kun?

“Midnight, I could use a little more help!” he hissed, and tried to crawl as silently as possible.

“I’m closeby, but my legs are shorter than even yours!” The cat answered. “I’ve called for more backup too, just hold on! And if you can get a clear shot, throw your tiara at the monster!”

As the realization of how bad an idea it had been to trust some random talking cat when she said she turned him into some kind of hero sunk in, the monster shattered another glass case. Eventually, it would find him, and he wanted to be on his feet when it did.

En grabbed a piece of glass and necklace of many hefty gems, and slowly stood up.

He crept around the monster’s back, then threw the necklace.

It hit the thing’s shoulder and snapped apart, and then the thing was turning on him, eyes aglow.

En leaned and slashed with the glass-

Sharp pain in his hand-

Then all over, thrown back. His back, crashing into a wall, out of breath.

The darkness was fading, light beginning to show at the windows, the door, and it cracked open.

Midnight stepped in.

En was looking at her when the monster moved again, and he was too slow to dodge.

“Moon Tiara Action!” The cat cried.

Then something hit the monster’s arm instead.

A rose glimmered in the low light.

“What the hell?” En asked, looking around for where it came from- and the monster did the same thing.

A figure in one window that wasn’t getting as light, a shadow cast.

“Who are you?” The monster demanded.

“Tuxedo Mask.” The figure answered- and yeah, En guessed he did have on a tuxedo. And a mask. The suit was fitted to a tall body, silhouetted sharper in the yellow lining of the cap he wore over it. The mask shaded his eyes, but didn’t hide the strong nose and smirk on his face. “Hey, Moon Scout, hiding and running won’t win this battle for you.”

En blinked. Seriously?

“It was doing a great job at keeping me alive.” He responded, and ‘Tuxedo Mask’ nodded once, as if giving him the point. It didn’t feel like much of a concession. “Anyway, where did you come from?”

“Moon Scout, don’t take your eyes off your opponent.” He said instead of answering.

“What do you-“ En looked at the monster, which was now lifting both arms, even with one bleeding at the rose stuck in it, waving them down towards En and to Tuxedo Mask.

En tugged the silver band off his head. What had Midnight said?

“Moon tiara action!” He said, flinging the circle forward.

It glowed bright as it spun, hitting the thing in their chest, which caved inward- and inward, and inward, their entire body crumbling to dust that barely hit the floor before it faded too.

“You did it!” Midnight cheered.

“Not bad for your first time.” Tuxedo Mask was still smiling as he lifted his cape and turned.

“Wait, are you really going to leave without saying goodbye?”

He left without saying goodbye.

Huh.

“Who was that?” Midnight asked, from near his ankle where she held his fallen tiara.

“I dunno but he’s hand- wait. You didn’t send him?”

She shook her head.

“I wish, he is easy on the eyes. Oh, right. Stellaris, cancel that emergency backup. Moon Scout is fine!”

“How many people are involved in what’s going on, exactly?” En asked, beginning to feel a bit dizzy. The cut on his hand where his attempt at using the glass had failed wasn’t big enough for it to be from bloodloss. Probably.

Unless he’d been bleeding out this whole time or something, everything from the talking cat onward a hallucination as his mind dealt with… he wasn’t sure, getting hit with a truck or something this morning.

But he was pretty sure isekais didn’t work this way, so…

“Let’s get home first, then I can answer your questions… and we need to get you a bandage.” She frowned, but then flicked her tail and went to the window Tuxedo Mask had made his entrance and exit from. “Hurry!”

He followed, shaking his head.

“We have to get back before your sister and her boyfriend do!” Midnight reminded him, and En went double time.

As it was, Nana still got back before En had finished cleaning up.

At least he was in his own clothes, Midnight having taught him how to un-moon-prism-power.

“Enkun, I’m home!” Nana called. “You wouldn’t believe what-“

“Are you ok?” He interrupted. “I, uh, saw the news and I was worried, since you went to that store, and-“

“I’m fine.” She said quickly.

“What about-“

“So is he.”

“I am indeed fine.” Shimura-kun’s voice joined Nana’s. “Just a really weird day. Passed out on the floor and missed the vigilante battle though, apparently.”

“Oh no, that’s too bad.” En tried to sound nonchalant, but the both just laughed.

“I was scared out of my mind, but it was alright in the- Engetsu-chan, what is that.” Nana stepped out of the kitchen and saw him attempting to bandage his own left hand.

“Um, well-“

“Are you bleeding, is that a cat, where- don’t sit on the couch like that you’ll get blood on it, here,” Nana moved in a flurry, tugging him off the back of the couch and pulling him to stand, focusing on his hand as she kept talking. “What happened?”

“Um…”

Midnight meowed.

“Um, there were some kids messing with this cat, and I stopped them.” En said, which was technically true.

“These aren’t from the cat, are they?”

“No, no! She’s fine. Sweet. Her name’s Midnight.”

“A good name for her.” Nana glanced at her. “But you have to be the one to buy cat food. And kitty litter!”

En had expected more pushback than that but was just glad he wasn’t hearing a ‘how dare you almost die so stupidly’ conversation instead.

Nana finished wrapping his hand. He realized hers were shaking.

“Are you okay, Nana-nee?” He asked.

Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Yeah. Just glad we’re all alright.”

He nodded. “We are. Hey, how about instead of us forcing Shimura-kun to cook dinner for us, you call Torino and he brings us something for us to eat in instead.”

“Instead of making me what?”

Nana’s smile got a little less even, and a little more true.

“Yeah, let’s do that. I’ll go text him. You start looking for cat things.”

“Got it.” He saluted, then returned to the back of the couch, pulling out his phone. “Hey, Midnight, what do talking cats eat?” he asked, a little quieter as she curled up next to him.

“Caviar.”

“Wet cat food, got it…”

“En!”

[bugfragged]

This game got discontinued, but according to my totally real uncle who works at Torch60, the full game would have ended with Maru destroying the moon in order to defeat Count Chroma.

CHROMATIC CHAOS - Let's Play 「 Crescent Prism Chapter 1 (Hard) 」 - 3

[i-am-a-megalodon]

Whimsigothic home decor on a budget

Lights.  Not everyone has the money for a Tiffany stained glass lamp nor a fringed Victorian-style lampshade, and that is ok.  Try a typical string of white fairy lights, or nature and fantasy themed lights.  You can also get a stained glass lightbulb.  https://lavenderconstellation.store/collections/home-decor/products/magical-mushroom-lamp-led-night-light

Speaking of stained glass, window film is a good option for bringing color into your home.  There are several stained glass design options, or you can go for a prism-like option that’ll shower your room in rainbows.  https://www.amazon.com/rabbitgoo-Privacy-Rainbow-Decorative-Non-Adhesive/dp/B01N20YR6B/ref=sr_1_2_sspa?dib=eyJ2IjoiMSJ9.7IuzOBu9keKshTNN3mkd-N8tpWAFsYRIV0ouHNdEeeuFQnxmfPWSlIj5AOINltgujXJL350fjcuPUqvkA7qE8EV1jRIp3Cb7SS2E_3ensZDC7YGrIUJUDuFoXyJUzoAaubOT4MHDFyxAGa0O0KJwLJrcka1cbIBBm6sqvWoPlmqYUfWb8Y3oQgzmLpqKP4JPQewDsYs5zoCzWcJwRlsZe-XMkEKHkIV98glPdYzd9X4VADl3IciKUs5lbNxqpoC3jFFKBPHnXHYxVJIFsY2jXvZb2m7XpyYM6uFeAZX_GCs.vV9V3wtusdEYUCL87IAKODkjErjag0hvIDXX576-Ppw&dib_tag=se&hvadid=557208947650&hvdev=c&hvlocphy=9004664&hvnetw=g&hvqmt=e&hvrand=9072085278713993898&hvtargid=kwd-408635345190&hydadcr=7467_13183976&keywords=amazon+rainbow+window+film&qid=1712327956&sr=8-2-spons&sp_csd=d2lkZ2V0TmFtZT1zcF9hdGY&psc=1

Tapestries! Could have celestial prints, tarot cards, dark nature prints, or a mandala.

Plants! Real ones, fake ones, doesn’t matter. Find some celestial themed planting pots.  Hang some vines. 

More tips:

DIY! Paint your mirror frame.  Paint an old box.  Have fun!

Don’t do a big shopping haul at once.  Pace yourself. Slowly incorporate decor elements into your home.  Let the vibe grow naturally.

[summerroseart]

So apparently if a partial eclipse shines through a prism it makes crescent shaped rainbow flares!

(Vs normal sunlight through the same prism)