#I know black is the IPC color

[illiaccrest]

Eepy

[otakuworks]

❛ 𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒. angst w/fluff

feat. Caelus x GN!Reader | wc. 1.6K

sum. fireflies are fleeting creatures, and so were his feelings for you. . . or so you thought

cw. 2.0 spoilers, some intended lore inaccuracies but nothing major

note. no firefly slander in here, just some angsty thoughts I got after finishing 2.0 before bed

main.mlist hsr.mlist

Ambiguous relationships are unstable, often leads to misunderstandings. The balance that had been barely maintained by not invading each other's territory and not interfering with each other's business had begun to shake. With the appearance of a variable called Firefly. Disorganized thoughts strewn like scratches in your head.

"Caelus, how can you be certain she's trustworthy if she's hiding something from you?"

"I never said she was, she has her reasons if she doesn't want to tell me, but I'm inclined to help her now that she's in danger."

He never spared you a glance as he stalked to his room.

I was in danger once yet you never came to my aid. What's so special about her? Was your bitter thought.

There were so many questions you want to ask him. If you had tried to count them, you would have run out of fingers and toes. But when you opened your mouth, what came out was utter nonsensical question.

"What makes you so inclined to help her?"

He finally stopped and gaze over his shoulder. "She's important to me."

. . . And I'm not?

You're shakened, but his golden eyes were utterly calm. It would be absurd to tell this man to forget her and stay by your side. The idea of fleeing was anathema to him.

You don't even know the girl, but based on his descriptions prior she's exactly the type of girl he would go for and it's enough to add salt on your unrequited love.

It's obvious you two like each other that even March was able to pick up the tension, but you both remained on the neutral ground and never fessed up.

Meanwhile, Black Swan's knowing gaze traversed on your distraught ones as you follow the Trailblazer on his way back to the Dreamscape. She knows the moment she looked, conflicting feelings who are yet to be acknowledged are now catching up.

Once Caelus entered his room, the Memokeeper turned to you.

"One with a sincere heart prevails, young one. He's yet to be aware of your burgeoning feelings, having the initiative might help you with your current predicament." She advised.

You barely glanced at her as you downcast your eyes. "And endure the plausible rejection now that he has her? I'd rather be colored in green."

She chuckled. "Green with envy doesn't suit anyone. It's strange to me how certain you are with your prediction."

Sighing, you turned to meet up with the special guest whom he invited you to have a chat.

"I'll head first. Take care of him, although he can do most part of it, it wouldn't hurt to have another shield."

Black Swan merely smiled as she watched you walk away with a heavy heart. Ah young ones, always so blindsided with things that hinder them to confess.

"Apologies for the delay, your friend told me about their plans to meet with the IPC ambassador before going in the Dreamscape."

Caelus, who was about to dive in, halted at his steps and his shoulders stiffened. For a brief moment, the Memokeeper witnessed the renowned Intergalactic Baseballer summoning his grey bat.

"Aventurine? Why would they meet up with him?" Was his immediate response with furrowed eyebrows and clenched fists.

"That, I do not know. You can wait and ask them once we're done with the mission."

Who ever said he's a patient guy?!

"Well, my friend. What do you say?"

You groaned upon gracing your eyes with reality and a peacock suddenly greeted you by the tub. No wait, it's just the IPC representative.

"I-I must discuss the details with the others first before making a decision." You clutched the rim the of the tub to balance yourself from that disgruntling experience.

Transition sucks the most.

"Don't worry, I can wait but try not to make it long."

Honestly, you don't even know the reason why he's seeking you out for this. It was Caelus at first and now he's interested in doing business with you.

You're tempted to ask him but it might lead to a longer conversation and you want nothing more than to relax for a moment without sleeping.

You heard Aventurine bid his temporary farewell, but you failed to notice him stopping right at the exit before shaking his head. You were too focused on alleviating the dizziness that you failed to focus the shadow framing you

"What did he want with you?" Your blood froze right there and then

"Shouldn't that be my question? What are you doing here, in my room?" You couldn't look up at him and can only look on his knees which are the same level as your eyes.

Look up and you would see every emotion to exist on his face.

It came by a blur, you were sitting in the tub and the next you heard the water splashing followed by being engulfed by someone warm and sturdy.

He's hugging you.

You blinked once and twice.

Caelus' hugging you.

If you can even call it a hug when you feel your bones cracking.

It's not a foreign act, you've hugged once in awhile but it's usually with the four of you; Dan Heng, March and him. You've never exclusively hugged before so this notion surprised you.

"Caelus?" You softly called out as he buried his face in your hair.

"Nothing remains with me. My memories and past companies, I couldn't grasp them. Now I'm graced with so many friends, I'm always afraid everything will slip away once more and I'll be an empty shell you met in the Space Station." His voice is unusually mellowed, it reminds you of a child complaining about school.

You let yourself relaxed and surround him with your warmth as well and right at that moment you feel him abandoning his weight.

He wants to say more, however the recent events seemed to have an invisible force squeezing his heart and preventing him from talking, but it doesn't stop his tears from flowing.

I don't want to lose you, too.

He wants to say those to you, but his heavy heart and parched throat reign supreme. So he bared himself and cried to you, letting himself vulnerable in front of you, hoping that would be the bridge to convey his feelings that words cannot express at the moment.

©OTAKUWORKS_2024

[azen13]

I'd love to inquire about the Starlight Pawnshop. While the chess piece intrigues me, can I have the double sided coin? (Hoping for Aventurine, you see!)

King of Hearts, Ace of Spades

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Double-Sided Coin: A coin where both sides show the same pattern, allowing its desperate holder to not need to rely on luck to win this bet and secure their prize.

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Description: You live on a dying planet, making just enough money playing poker to get by. One day, you meet a new player, Aventurine of the IPC, who has come to your world as a part of the IPC's plan to take your planet over. While he wasn't planning to make any big gambles himself, the thought of you being his might change his mind.

CW: Yandere Themes, Drinking, Mentions of Death, Non-Sexual Intimacy

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The scent of smoke and spirits is heavy and acrid, looming over your favorite poker table like a thunderstorm as the dealer shuffles a deck of cards. They’re red and black waterfalls in his weathered hands, rippling from left to right, right to left. Left to right, right to left, and again, and again. After you and the dealer, there are four empty wooden chairs, once occupied by players earlier in the night, now long gone after losing all their money. That left you and the strange man.

In your eyes, he looks rather gaudy in his well-pressed suit, practically shimmering from head-to-toe due to all the jewelry he wears. Unlike you and your rigid, controlled posture, he seems perfectly relaxed, draping himself over his chair, a king on his throne, overlooking his kingdom with a smile that seems to shine in his neon-colored eyes like diamonds. When the dealer passes out cards, dealing two to you and two to him, he glances at them without so much as a change in expression before he has settled back into his original position. His cards are so close to you that if you craned your neck just a little to the right, you might be able to know how to play this upcoming round. You know better, though. This is an impossibly important match, and if you lose it, you wouldn’t be able to pay your electric bill.

Still, the thought is tantalizing. Unlike the people you usually played against, who had easy tells and rarely won–unless you were having an off day–he was clearly well-versed in the game of poker, and had the luck to go with it: pocket aces, straights, a royal flush, even. You were certainly no novice either, but he had slowly been chipping away at you, taking high risk after high risk, to which you always folded, even when you had the cards to win.

Looking at your cards, you have to bite back a smile. In your hands lie the ace of diamonds and the ace of hearts: pocket aces. It was as though the stars–however invisible they were in the sky on your planet–had aligned in a serendipitous syzygy. This was the moment you needed. The moment your hard work would pay off. If all went well, you could pay your electric bill, as well as buy some bread. If you were really lucky, you could purchase a ticket off this planet, a world of decay and death, to go somewhere brighter and better, and start a new life.

Of course, that was all just wistful thinking, you remind yourself. Snapping yourself from your momentary reverie, you place your cards on the table, glancing over to the blonde stranger opposite to you. His eyes gaze at you with such unceasing focus, it almost feels like you’re being lasered straight through. You squirm in your seat a little, concentrating on the curve of his lip and the calm emanating from his posture, hoping to find some clues as to what your opponent might be thinking. Despite your best attempts, you come up with a blank.

“Why the long face, friend?” His voice snaps your attention like a toothpick, the words as thick and syrupy as honey as they pour over your ears. You do your best to force his voice out of your head, instead watching as the dealer lays out five cards in the center of the table and flips three over: king of hearts, jack of clubs, ten of diamonds. Just the sight of each card makes your heart thrum with excitement.

With shaky hands, you throw caution as far away as you can, and push your meager stack of chips into the pot. “All in,” you whisper. You have not prayed to the Aeons in many years, but in this moment, you send a silent prayer out to the cosmos, hoping for a response.

The stranger raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. Suddenly, you feel very small and insignificant, like an ant beneath a shoe. Perhaps this wasn’t a good decision, not when you’re on your last leg in this match, and you need this money. But playing it safe wasn’t working, and you’re almost out of money, so might as well go out with a bang, right? “All right,” he chuckles, leaning forward and using his free hand to push all his chips into the center of the table, “I suppose I’ll do the same.” 

After a moment, the dealer flips over the remaining two cards: a queen of clubs and a ten of clubs.

Shuddering, you lay down your cards.

Your heart shatters so violently and thoroughly, nothing remains but a pit in your stomach.

He has pocket aces too, but unlike you, he has the ace of clubs, giving him a straight flush.

For several minutes, you watch yourself sit listless, as the dealer gives your opponent the winnings and heads off for the night. Now, in this part of the gambling den, only you and the winner remain. The man picks up a red and white chip, running a gloved finger across its damaged edge. “A good game. Excellent, even,” he remarks, flipping the coin in the air and catching it in his palm. He looks at you again, his eyes flickering with something unreadable. “How about a drink? I’ll pay.” 

You want to say no. All you want to do is go home and cry and scream and figure out how you’re going to sustain yourself for the next week or so. You want to eviscerate this stranger for taking your money when he hardly needs it. He isn’t struggling to pay bills, or afford food and water. But you are. Even though you want to do these things, a free drink is a free drink, and with how tight money will be in the upcoming weeks, it’s not like you can decline the offer. “Sure.” You let him guide you away from the poker table, past strangers clad in shadows betting their miniscule fortunes and drunkards drowning in fleeting moments of hedonism to a small bar.

Lit by flickering neon lights and pungent with the smell of cheap liquor, it reminds you of everywhere on your home planet: trashy. There are no patrons by this time of night; all the reckless people have already spent their money, and those smart enough to not give into temptation know the price is far too much for just one pleasant night.

The man sits on a stool, lounging just as comfortably as he did at the poker table. “Well, what do you want?” He asks, propping up his chin with a hand. You search the bar, trying to find a menu, but come up with nothing. Not knowing what to do or say, you shift on your feet, chewing on your lip as your eyes flit over the room again.

Noticing your unease, your former opponent simply chuckles, sidestepping you to walk up to the counter. “Two glasses of sparkling water please,” he says, pulling out a black and gold credit card and sliding it over to the bartender. After a moment, he’s already handing you a fluted glass full of a pale, effervescent liquid. “By the way, I’m Aventurine,” the man says, offering his free hand to you. 

In return, you muster up a weak smile, though bitterness leaks through the cracks. “I’m Y/N,” you respond. You clasp his hand and shake it once or twice, before letting go. After a moment, you take a sip of your drink. “Thank you for buying me this,” you add.

Aventurine waves a hand dismissively. “Oh, it’s nothing,” he says, “it’s not every day I get to play against someone so talented.” Even with how horrible you feel, the compliment is enough to brighten your expression a little.

A momentary silence settles over the two of you, and you feel the urge to say something. To do something. But before you can ask a question, something stops you in your tracks.

Your stomach growls.

You feel your face warm a little, embarrassed at how loud the sound is in the quiet. Aventurine tilts his head a little, an eyebrow raised. “Hungry?” he asks.

You give a curt nod. “Food is hard to come by nowadays. I make it by with gambling, but…” your voice falters into a sigh. This man isn’t family, a lover, or even a friend. Just an acquaintance you met only hours ago. You shouldn’t be sharing your life problems with him. “With everything getting worse, it’s only getting harder and harder,” you explain. 

Aventurine’s eyes are intense. You never noticed how strikingly beautiful they are, as luminescent as the lights overhead. They gaze at you with a certain understanding, a solidarity even, as though he is silently saying ‘I have been hungry, too.’ Then you watch the light in them shifts, darkening like clouds covering the sun. “I could help you,” the blonde gambler offers, a smirk dancing on his lips, “for a price.”

At the sight of your confused expression, Aventurine continues. “I could give you anything you might want. Food. Water. Shelter. Luxury. I can show you the universe,” he says, gesturing to a cracked window showing the expansive, empty night sky. You have a distant memory of seeing the stars as a young child, but they are long gone, obscured by decades of pollution. 

“What’s the price?” You ask, immediately thinking of an old saying your parents used to tell you as a child: nothing in life comes for free. For such a bargain, surely there must be a price to pay?

With the flick of his wrist, Aventurine procures a poker chip in his hand, tossing it up and catching it; unlike the warped, dingy ones the gambling den owned, the one he held is in mint condition, colored green and gold. “Oh, nothing too costly,” he chuckles, leaning in. “Just you,” he murmurs. 

While the air feels electrified, you feel frozen in place. “I don’t understand,” you respond, the words moving past your lips like a drunk man hobbling home. Perhaps you are drunk with how your mind is spinning in every direction like a tornado. You check your glass. Still practically full.

Aventurine’s smile widens. “And you don’t have to.” His eyes bore into yours; for a moment, you feel like you’re being hypnotized by how the kaleidoscopic hues in them seem to swirl and shift. You want to move, but you’re still frozen where you stand. “To be honest, I myself hardly understand what I see in you,” he adds, “but I know I need it. I need you.” 

The declaration hangs over your head like a thunderstorm, ready to strike you down in all its passion. Before it can, though, you manage to stand up on shaky limbs. “I refuse,” you mutter, storming out of the gambling den, leaving Aventurine sitting alone.

An easy smile rests on his face, his mind assured that this won’t be the last time he sees you.

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You return to the gambling den the next evening, intent on one thing: winning. Your electric bill payment might be late, but if you manage to eke out a victory, you can pay for both that and your upcoming water bill. Your dreams are immediately halted by the sight of Aventurine, lounging at your table as though it’s his, eyes glittering with what you now recognize as greed. It only takes a moment for you to put the pieces together: how precarious your finances are; how you make most of your money through gambling; how much he needs you.

He’s trying to crush any chance you might have at earning money, so that you willingly walk into his arms.

His expression is unceasing. He knows you’ll give in eventually, you have to. But you aren’t going to give him the satisfaction of winning. Not yet. So, with fire in your heart and daggers in your eyes, you stalk over to your table, and sit yourself down.

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It’s only a matter of days before you lose everything. Electricity. Water. Heat. Sewage. Waste. You don’t try to scrounge around for food or water, and don’t even bother looking for a job. You haven’t heard of an open one for weeks, especially with unemployment rising steadily. Most of all, you don’t bother going to the gambling den. You don’t want to see Aventurine’s smug expression.. Your home, a small, drab concrete box, will be your tomb. You’re sure of it. 

That is, until you see those neon eyes glowing in the darkness of your room. 

Immediately, you attempt to stand up, but your body protests, your vision growing blurry from vertigo. “What are you doing here?” You mumble. You try to channel fury in your voice, but you can’t find any fire in yourself, only weak, meaningless sparks.

Aventurine only laughs. “I’m here to offer you another deal.” With the flourish of a hand, he pulls out a small poker chip, the same one he held that fateful night you first met him. “If you accept, I’ll uphold my end of the bargain, and give you anything you want. But if you win a coin flip, then you don’t have to uphold your end,” he explains. “And let’s be honest: you don’t exactly have any more options, do you?” he asks, that smug smirk easily settling on his face. You scowl at him, but say nothing.

Finally, after a few seconds, you mutter a half-hearted ‘fine’. With the way Aventurine’s eyes light up, it’s like he’s already won. You suppose he has. After all, he has an extraordinary ability to get lucky when necessary.

“Hearts or spades?” he asks, though you hardly pay attention. You grunt out the former, watching as the coin flies high into the air, a blur of motion, before settling back down into Aventurine’s palm. 

You see the symbol of a spade, but instead of fear, you feel relieved, oddly so. You slump into yourself a little more, sinking back down to the floor. After a moment, you feel Aventurine’s presence by your side. “Hey, love, it’s okay,” he murmurs, tenderly brushing some of your messy hair out of your face. Then he starts working his hands against your scalp, gently attempting to detangle the knots in your matted hair. “I know how hard this must be, but it’s going to be alright,” he whispers. “I’m going to take good care of you, I promise.”

To your worn-down mind, that sounds divine.

[s-b-party]

HSR’s Guns & Roses: Analysis of Boothill & Argenti

****Possible spoilers ahead, esp. Boothill’s & Argenti’s lore****

With Boothill out now, I’ve been very intrigued by the Boothill & Argenti duo which I’ve noticed so many details that are similar but also different about them, some of which many people may have already noticed but I still would like to analyze them since it’s been a hot minute since my last lore thread

The main aspects of these 2 characters that I want to talk about are their gameplay, characteristics, and lore/backstories

When we look at their gameplay, some details stand out; for example, both have the same element (physical) but opposite paths when it comes to their DPS roles (Boothill is Hunt which specializes in single target fights & Argenti is Erudition which specializes in dealing dmg to multiple enemies)

Their weapons are also opposites of each other where guns are ranged & the lance is typically used in close combat

This is more of a coincidence which I tweeted about recently but I still think it’s funny that their best-in-slot relics can be found in the same cavern of corrosion

Next we’ll look at their characteristics by which I mean their personalities & designs; off the bat we can see that Boothill has a more gruff personality & if he weren’t censored by his synesthesia beacon, he would be the sole reason for bumping HSR to a higher audience rating; this man probably would not hold back on the expletives 😂)

Meanwhile Argenti is shown to be very kind with his words, often using compliments & praises; typically he speaks with levelheadedness & grace, just like how we imagine a knight would speak

If we think about it, Boothill & Argenti are both very flamboyant characters but in different fonts; just look at their demo trailers as references since they both move like dancers (Argenti looks like he’s in a graceful ballroom dance while he’s fighting the swarm disaster; Boothill straight up MOONWALKS while dodging bullets from the IPC, we literally went from Marilyn Monroe to Michael Jackson 😂)

What accentuates their flamboyance even more is the way they both have spotlights on them at various points of their demo videos

Bonus shot of Boothill being so extra (read: fabulous) while fighting:

They also have very flamboyant designs which makes them stand out (as Boothill explains, they’re both clad in silver which definitely is one of the first things you would notice when looking at them); I don't know how much value silver has in this universe but it is considered a precious metal & valuable to us due to its many uses which is thanks to its malleable nature

Another thing to point out is that Argenti is based off the Latin word for silver argentum; fun fact, the Latin translation is the reason why the symbol for silver on the periodic table is Ag :3

I feel like their color palettes are a bit similar (silver, red, black) but they also have varying degrees for shared colors, specifically red & black; from a visual standpoint, this goes very well because Argenti having more red helps to emphasize his association to roses & Boothill having more black helps to emphasize his identity as “death” (well, for the IPC at least)

Moving onto their lore, although Argenti doesn’t have lines about Boothill, we do get lines about Argenti from Boothill himself; based on Boothill’s voicelines, we can assume that he holds some respect for Argenti as someone to whom he can relate

Their backstories are quite similar when we take a closer look at them

For example, they both have experiences where they lost their homes & the people important to them (damn, HYV really said you’re gonna suffer 💀)

Their respective factions are both noted to be groups of solitary people

Interestingly the factions have different reputations according to the data bank where the Knights of Beauty are looked down upon & the Galaxy Rangers are seen as heroes which may be a bit different from what we’re used to since knights normally have a positive connotation as people who hold chivalry as one of their most important values

Their goals are similar in the way that they both are looking for a specific person or entity: Boothill is looking for Oswaldo Schneider (who is responsible for the loss of his family & home; we might possibly meet him soon since we ended off 2.2 with the cliffhanger where Boothill confronts Aventurine to ask him where Oswaldo is) & Argenti is looking for Idrila the Beauty

They also have their critical turning points in their respective Character Story Part 3 portions

Boothill’s portion talks about his transformation into a cyborg & his adoption of the name “Boothill” which he explains is what they called gunslingers who ended up dead; it is a clear representation of his old self having died along with his loved ones & his home when the IPC destroyed everything

Argenti’s portion talks about his journey as a new Knight of Beauty & the obstacles he faced after having met the knight that was mentioned in his Part 2; here we see his transformation into a Knight of Beauty & his dedication to the path he walks

Before I had mentioned silver being an important part of their designs; here I think is where we see the importance of silver the best (since silver is a malleable material, it can change its meaning for both characters based on their situations)

To reiterate, becoming a cyborg by replacing his body w/ silver represents Boothill saying goodbye to his old self who knew of happier times & his loved ones; for Argenti, the silver that he wears is a sign of his devotion to Idrila the Beauty

What ties their differences so well in my eyes is that silver acts as a symbol of Boothill’s & Argenti’s resolve to accomplish their goals (silver may be malleable but it still can be strong metal & it’s even better since Argenti does talk about his will/faith being unbreakable)

I truly love their dynamic as complementary foils & I really hope that we’ll be able to see more interactions between them in the future since we just only have Boothill’s voicelines about Argenti but considering their goals, it probably won’t happen, at least not any time soon

Let me just say that I only cooked this idea up after listening to Boothill’s demo trailer on repeat…..a normal amount, I’m so normal about him 🙂🙂🙂🙂

Thank the YEEHAW man :3

[heaven-s-black-box]

Vulnerability- Aventurine x male!Reader

Return to File

Recovery date: April 29th, 2024

Description: Hello sorry if this is a bad time, but I was wondering if you could make a story where the reader is male and comes from an extremely endangered species that is capable of having a child with a partner of the same gender, and he's kind of like Black Swan's apprentice, and went to Penacony with her but he ends up bumping into his ex Aventurine, the reader left him because he had a couple mental issues he needed to work out but he still cares about Aventurine and just doesn't know what to say to him.

Notes: This work was recovered in conjunction with an anonymous researcher, we thank them for their contributions. I couldn't really work in the "being able to have a child with someone of the same gender" but otherwise I think this came out really well.

Word count: 1 031

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Black Swan is a bitch.

That’s Y/n’s opinion as he catches a glimpse of soft golden hair and a gaudy green suit across the bar. The memokeeper had sent her darling apprentice to get them some drinks. She could feign ignorance, but Y/n watched her look over at the bar before sending him. He knows this was intentional, but he won’t let her lead him like she leads everyone else.

Seriously, he’d been under the impression that memokeepers were simply supposed to observe, why was she so intent on meddling with his life?

“One sweetened mood and one prolonged sunrise, from the man in the green suit,” the bartender nodded over her shoulder before he could ask about the second drink.

Y/n bit their tongue and tried to hold back a scowl.

“Thank you.”

He picked up the sweetened mood and brought it back to Black Swan.

“You forgot your drink,” Black Swan hummed, taking her drink from Y/n.

“I didn’t get one.”

“But he bought you one,” she grinned, taking a sip.

“And if I took it I’d be opening myself up to talk to him, and I have nothing to say to him.”

They both looked over to the bar, finding the man in question talking with a man with purple hair who looked less than thrilled to be there. When Y/n turned back around, Black Swan was watching her drink swirl together– the layers becoming muddled and the vibrant colors becoming one dull shade. He could sense a coming lecture and sighed.

“You want to be a memokeeper to preserve your kind, to leave a record in the wake of your destruction so that maybe someday– if the universe comes to an end– you can be born again.”

“If you’re about to suggest repopulating my kind I’m going to leave.”

Black Swan laughed.

“No, no, that’s a decision only you can make. I’m just saying that you’ve found your purpose now, maybe it’s time to give relationships another chance.”

Y/n frowned.

Black Swan wasn’t wrong. The only reason Y/n had broken up with Aventurine was because he’d felt too dependent on the IPC agent. Aventurine had tried to comfort him by insisting he could depend on him, but that had only made things worse. Neither of them wanted to be taken care of and while Aventurine was in a position where he could take care of Y/n, even if it was only superficially, Y/n was out matched. So he’d left.

Now he just wasn’t sure what to say.

He’d been unsure of what to say for years. He’d had the same conversation with himself every night as he lay in bed, trying to find the words that explained why he left. Trying to explain what exactly ‘you’re too coddling’ actually meant beyond never letting him pay.

---

Y/n felt shifting below him, nudging him awake. He buried himself into his pillow a little more, frowning at how hard it was, before prying his eyes open.

“It’s been awhile,” a groggy voice spoke from above him. 

The apprentice memokeeper sat up, groaning in pain as his back stretched out from the uncomfortably bent position he’d been in. Aventurine laughed, squeezing his hand. Y/n hadn’t even noticed that he was holding it, but he quickly pulled it back and settled his hands in his lap.

“Sorry, must’ve been really tired,” Y/n mumbled, yawning as he pressed himself back into his chair. “I’ll go get a doctor.”

Aventurine grabbed his wrist as he tried to leave.

“Can we talk?”

“You should get checked out, you’ve been out for a while.”

“It’s not like I’m hurt.”

“No,” Y/n sighed, “you were comatose. I’m getting you a doctor, then we can talk.”

He kept his word.

A few minutes after the doctor left the room, Y/n re-entered with a tray of food. He sat back in his seat and set the tray on the bed table before pulling it up to Aventurine.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Y/n said.

Aventurine nodded, staring at the food in front of him as they fell silent.

The small room was filled with the ticking of the clock on the wall and the faint sounds of footsteps outside. They were in the medical area on Penacony; Robin and Sunday were being treated in their rooms but Aventurine was stuck here.

Y/n found himself staring at the food on Aventurine’s tray as well.

“I’m sorry,” they both said. “Why are you-” they continued, stopping when they both turned to look at each other at the same time.

Y/n looked tired, and Aventurine looked a little sickly. It was almost funny that they were looking at each other in such vulnerable states. Maybe if they’d been able to see each other like this before, they wouldn’t have broken up. If they’d been able to understand that being able to protect one another was the only way they felt strong.

“I get it,” Aventurine said. “I always understood it… because I felt the same way,” his voice dropped to a whisper as he looked down to his hands in his lap.

“It was just… so hard to feel like I couldn’t do anything for you, like I was useless and maybe if we weren’t us we could have worked through it together but everything you tried to do to make things better made me feel worse.”

They fell silent again, collecting their thoughts and picking their next words.

This was the most open they’d ever been with each other.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” Aventurine asked suddenly.

“I did. I’ve been trying to think of how to tell you but it felt weird.”

“Why?” Y/n looked up at him. “Did you want to tell me, I mean.”

“Because I miss you.”

Aventurine nodded, then reached for their hand. He intertwined their fingers.

“Kakavasha. That’s my name.”

A small smile tugged at Y/n’s lips.

“Kakavasha,” he brought the back of the man’s hand to his lips and placed a gentle kiss against the worn skin, “I think it’s a beautiful name.”

[tree-obsession]

Gold and Red Text in Penacony

So, for some reason, I have decided to torture myself by creating a theory that will likely have some plot relevance??? but not totally sure. it has popped up a bunch of times and seems to confuse a lot of people, so I'm just putting together what I know! feel free to tell me if I missed something, as I haven't done many of the side quests yet...

Anyway, spoiler warning for 2.0 trailblaze mission and possibly some of the side quests?? idk proceed with caution! I don't read many leaks so I doubt there's spoilers for that but tell me right away if there are any!

Alright, so the first time we see different-colored text in this mission is during Acheron's first meeting with the Trailblazer. According to this twitter thread (credits to user mobnermal, NOT me) Acheron's dialogue will change, depending on the gender of the tb and how we respond to her queries. She also says towards the end of the convo something along the lines of "It feels like multiple different versions of you were talking to me, saying a different thing each time".

So, I'm not entirely sure why she's lying, or even if she's doing it intetionally. It does seem like there's some aspect of "different possibilities within the Dreamscape" happening- almost like the Dreamscape itself is changing the tb's answers/Acheron's questions. But again, we'll get a bit into the dreamscape later.

2. Aventurine's final convo with the tb, and then Black Swan later.

My screenshots were failing me so hard in this quest lol.

Anyway, as far as I know, these two are the only ones in this mission who use gold text. It's mostly used to highlight the word "truth", and according to the wiki and playthroughs I have watched this dialogue doesn't change- only Acheron's red seems inconsistent. I find it interesting Black Swan put quotations around it, and I have no idea what this could imply. I assume she knows something we and Aventurine don't about Robin's death, which seems to be what they were referring to during this part.

As to how that "upends everything"... I don't know what the implications of her death are. It's implied by the npc who raised Robin (can't find any screenshots- I didn't take any, but it's dialogue from an npc in the Golden Hour) and Sunday and Robin's dialogue in the very beginning- the one where they were "shades"- that Robin's voice may have some special quality that could mind-control/ brainwash people to some extent. This is a bit of a tangent, but may point out why the gold test is so important- the new Harmony trace mats match Robin's design very well, and are part of the Order. The Order's- Ena's- symbol is an eyeball, which can be found in a lot of places on Penacony, but most importantly Sunday's clothes. Judging from what we know of Sunday's control-freak-esque personality (sorry dude ):) it's possible he or someone else in The Family is using Robin's potential powers to brainwash the people of different factions. If you choose the alternate ending, everything wraps up a bit too nicely, and nobody seems to want to leave Penacony after that. Tb never finds out about Robin's death in that ending, either. There's a lot of implications there that I don't want to get into for this post, but basically- The Family is orchestrating something, probs pinned the blame on the IPC in the bad ending (since otherwise why would hoyo tell us that?) and then brainwashed everyone to never leave. Why? No idea! But it does explain why Robin's "truth" (in quotations, because Black Swan's dialogue does imply Robin's not dead) is so important to the plot.

That was a bit of a tangent, lol. Going back to the first sc, I find it interesting Aventurine is the one to tell us this, and if we're going with the idea that gold=truth, that just tells us Acheron's most certainly an Emanator, no matter what the Dreamscape does. Why they choose to have Aventurine reveal this, especially with the first instance of golden text- that's still up in the air. However, something I want to throw in is that there was a theory floating around Twitter comparing his eyes to the eye behind Ena in their official art. They are identical- even the gold outline on Ena's eye matches his eyeliner. Since it's implied in his conversation with Sparkle his eyes are a defining feature of his race, Sigonian, and that their civilization has been taken over (I'm not clear on details) or fallen apart somehow- akin to how civilizations under Ena's rule fell apart after their death- there may be some relation. Also, Aventurine was sent to Penacony specifically, which Topaz questioned- this may be why Diamond sent him. It implies a lot of plot relevance for him later, certainly!

3. The really, really ominous text you can get from a side quest.

If you go to the Reverie(Dreamscape) VIP lounge teleport beacon and head to the wall, you find a broken Clockie surrounded by purple bubbles. If you haven't done this quest yet- do it now, I really can't explain all this! search up a guide- there's a couple good ones on youtube. you do get a sticker!

anyway, some screenshots of the tape's text (cw for slight gore, explosions, screams, overall very ominous and vague tour-guidey stuff):

sorry for the text overlap lol, this was very inconveniently sized for screenshots.

anyway, yeah! possibly the most unnerving thing in the game so far (aside from those lost text stickers...). but, as you can tell, I'm gonna focus on the gold and red text. fair warning, I don't really know what to make of this, but I think there's some connection...

first, gold. this is, if we go off what I previously thought, the "truth". My current theory is that this gold is true of within or outside dreamscape- in other words, the dreamscape cannot alter that thing in the gold text. It's there, regardless of how the dreamscape screws other things up. The "truth" in the dreamscape isn't necessarily reliable, since dreamscape seems to fuck with everything, but gold is apparently truth, so we're sticking to that. That means that bloodshed, mind-opening (?), and pressure-releasing (???) is... true? It's kind of interesting- the other things in gold we've seen are statements with meaning, and this... kinda isn't. However, it could imply this is actually what's happening in the Dreamscape. Some kind of deranged, creepy thing that the dreamscape/ the Family is doing while everyone else is on this cool-looking vacation. I have no idea why that line, of all the lines, is gold, but it's certainly not something someone trying to make Penacony look good would say! That's all I know.

Not much I know about why the red one, specifically, is red either. Are the instruments/music fake? That's certainly a recurring motif in Penacony, between bands in the Golden Hour and Robin being a songstress, plus Ena's "Beyond the Sky Choir", their exclusive faction, which fell apart upon their death. Something about Ena being swallowed by XIpe will certainly be brought up later, I'm almost totally sure. It's also interesting it gets cut off by static, without even finishing the statement(I think). I have no idea what to make of these- I just needed to point out the similarities between this tape and the dialogue.

Also, the tape itself is suspicious. According to Woolesley, there are multiple, appearing all over the Reverie (Dreamscape) and sometimes even messing with the Dreamscape.

First of all, why the hell is he telling us this very classified-sounding info? Also, he literally might pop up next to you- it's inevitable that you give him the tape at some point, really showing how The Family is cracking down on these.

Also, who's making these tapes? Why are they leaving them around the Dreamscape if they know it'll be taken? What's with these side effects/corrupting? And what's the relation between the tapes, Acheron, and Aventurine/Black Swan- are those things revealed in the tapes things only those three are aware of, or care to tell tb? It's really weird, especially since they're apparently in Clockie statues? Also, why tapes even- the tapes themselves seem corrupted(or censored?) weirdly, judging from the lines, and also just... why would anyone make these? Someone against the Family presumably wouldn't do rebellion in such a way, and someone within would have no reason to create this at all- is the Dreamscape itself making it? it's the only thing using both red and gold text...

there's probably some connection to Clockie, since that's who is most likely talking in the tape... and that's the statue we found it in too. Clockie is sus in a whole host of ways- don't even get me started, but I'm not sure how they relate to this theory just yet.

I have no idea. The tape is super creepy, but things probably will clear up a bit in 2.1!

tldr/clarification(sry for rambling so much): red text = lie/subjective/ easily changeable, to the dreamscape at least

gold text= "truth", dreamscape is unable to change it(?)

ena probs will have some lore relevance along with Robin, who seems to be the center of this "truth" for the moment

the bizarre tape is very mysterious and questionable, with nothing solid that we know about it- however, it uses both red and gold text, which automatically makes it suspicious even beyond what it's saying directly

what the hell is the family cooking up? i don't know, but it's probably not good! (for us, at least)

thank you for reading this lightly-proofread, very rambling theory/speculation- you are an angel for making it this long!

edit: so number one- I've added a reblog to this post- plz check it out, it has some other details from the Chadwick quest. and also, there's this Youtube video that mentions the red text in the beginning! It has a very similar idea to mine, but the thing it mentions is not an option I made (I accepted Acheron right away lol, so I didn't grab this detail). And the entire vid is pretty cool, so you should see it!

[generalsdiary]

legato*

Aventurine x Dr. Ratio

warnings: none

word count: 1.1k~

a/n: this literally played out in my head today and i had to write it down, aventio brainrot is so real, *legato is a term used for playing smoothly and slowly, not beta read, aventurine will come home

description: IPC throws a boring official party, Aventurine feels tired of it all and wants to leave, Ratio makes it happen, they share a moment afterward (more like they share multiple moments during all of it but whatever)

the genius society and the IPC had organized an event, a fundraiser so to speak, although the details are of little matter at this moment. due to their background they both had to attend, Veritas in a dark blue satin suit and Aventurine in a soft velvet one with many different colors such as cyan and splashes of yellow and light gray. one simple, the other full of flair, like a peacock spreading its feathers to woo its potential mate to be.

under a ruse of their conversation being related to a shared task given by their superiors, they chat alone at a tall table with high chairs near the exit. they talk in short sentences, and even shorter glances. Aventurine has his typical smile on his face, shining like the brightest star in the universe. those stars shine the brightest because they are burning, actively burning up... except only Veritas sees how plastic the smile is at that moment, he reads his body language; which shows small signs of tiredness and annoyance of others around them. Aventurine would usually love to form connections or refresh older ones. tonight… he simply, it seems, isn’t up for it in a sense.

the doctor dislikes unnecessary attention yet now, he decides to give him, give them both a quick getaway. being meticulous and intelligent as he is, he knows of a perfect way to leave this dreadful place filled with fake smiles, forced small talk, and ass-kissing.

without sharing this plan, he walks over to the glossy black piano. the instrument sits coldly, untouched for so long, cleaned without a speck of dust and ignored by the party, merely there as a decoration and not as a vessel of emotion and old magic unspoken by anyone there anymore. in calm, large steps Ratio stands beside the piano, unbuttoning a button on his suit jacket, and sits down on the red plush chair. he adjusts his posture, a public performance will surely invite attention and create conversations perfect for them to slip out. Aventurine quietly observed him, wondering what the doctor was doing.

a simple melody, gentle, quiet at first fills the room which, somewhat, quiets down. gazes shift to Veritas as his fingers in a calculating manner glide over the piano keys creating a rather romantic melody to the trained ear. Veritas is very well aware that pianists are typically known to stare at a random dot when they play and he grabs that information tightly because his eyes from the first note moved and stayed on Aventurine’s. his head cocked to the side, shaking slightly due to his lower arms moving as he keeps his eyes on the blond man. Veritas’ fingers move against the keys coldly, much like the keys are cool against his fingertips, yet he gently presses them, a silent letter to his… colleague.

Aventurine leaned on a wall beside him, the tall glass in his hand with a dark liquid swirling around as he smiled genuinely. almost like any romantic lead in a rom-com movie when the love interest holds their gaze as they publicly but secretly confess their love. Aventurine’s eyes fall down to his glass, still smiling he takes a small sip, which invites Veritas to shift his gaze lower. oh, they both know how to press each other’s buttons in just the right way, it wouldn’t be fun without the occasional mind game now, would it?

as the melody comes to a close, Ratio closes the lid on the piano keys, the sound of people clapping fills his ears and he disregards them completely, being much less obvious about where he is looking. the tall man walks over to their shared table, their fingers interlocking like fluttering feathers falling to the ground, hidden from most gazes. he leads Aventurine outside of the room, leaving the party fully. questions of how does he play so well, where did he learn, and oh I want to talk to that doctor now, who knew he was so talented in other matters as well fill the now forgotten silence and as their attention shifts to the wishes of talking to the man in the midnight suit, they slip out.

the fresh air hits their skin in a blissful, soothing manner. their hands separate.

“now doctor, that was quite a performance~” the shorter man says with a familiar tone in his voice.

with a nod the taller one answers, “I couldn’t help but notice your distress, it was nothing more than a way to help…” a few more words linger on his tongue, help you, dear gambler.

a chuckle escapes Aventurine, “and you staring at me like a fool in love was also a way to help, hm?” his words teasing the older man who scoffs, he quickly cuts himself off to take a small step forward and quietly whispers, “…thank you.” his eyes close to gather a moment of peace.

“of course.” Veritas’ hand finds Aventurine’s again, lingering around his fingers. furthermore, his hand moves to cup his cheek, his thumb caressing it as he lovingly stares at Aventurine’s face.

Aventurine’s eyes open for a couple of moments before he moves even closer, “could you look any more love-struck, you are being painfully obvious”, he whispers before his lips meet Veritas’.

too scandalous for their own good, the way they move slightly closer to each other and slowly kiss, like lovers who have no rush with one another, like time isn’t always running out for humans. savoring the taste, the warmth, the feeling, like it will fly away on a butterfly’s wings, or disappear like the smoke when the candle burns out. in the slow pace, there is a honey-like taste, a caramel note neither of them wants to let go, it makes them want more. like they are each other’s light and each other’s firefly, dancing like a couple of fireflies around one another. the younger one who fell first, and the older one who fell harder. a hint of desperation in the kiss, it is out of pure need to spend time with the other. to not let go. but the sugary sweetness of the kiss can only stay like that if one makes a break. if their lips separate to exchange a long glance in silence before they meet once again- where the caramel hue covers their lips and fills their chest once more.

[shalomniscient]

ARCHIVE ENTRY #1: FAFNIR [HSR]

"That casino owner? She's nothing but trouble. If you ever think you're winning with her, think again—because the house always wins." - Ten Stonehearts, Topaz

◆ Name: Fafnir ◆ Title: Avaricious Embracer ◆ Owner of the Gnitaheath Casino ◆ Path: Nihility ◆ Type: Fire ◆ Rarity: 5*

Fafnir is a fanmade character in Honkai: Star Rail. The owner of one of the most famous casinos in the universe, she attracts both adoration and detestation. A Scion of Long, Fafnir has lived many long, long lives, and yet through them all, one thing remains constant: the gleam and glitter of gold is always her singular calling.

◆ Appearance Fafnir is a tall woman with short, black hair and yellow-gold eyes. There are streaks of yellow in her hair, located near the base of her horns which are gold in color, resembling a ram's horns. She also has a long, serpentine tail covered in black scales and adorned with more golden accessories.

Fafnir wears a neatly pressed, tailored black suit jacket with delicate gold embroidery on the cuffs that resemble scales, accompanied with black slacks with a similar design along their length. Below this, she wears a dark grey dress shirt, paired with a light-colored tie embroidered with gold thread. She also sports round, yellow-tinted glasses with a gold frame, and wears black, semi-palm gloves with the same golden embroidery.

◆ Combat Mechanics

Basic Attack: Buy-In

"Place your bets, please." Deal's Fire DMG equal to x% of Fafnir's ATK to an enemy.

Skill: All or Nothing

"C'mon, why don't you put some skin in the game?" Deals Fire DMG equal to x% of Fafnir's ATK to a single enemy and inflicts a Gnitaheath Marker.

Ultimate: The House Always Wins

"Looks like it's time for a payout... mine, of course." Removes 1 buffs from all enemies and deals Fire DMG equal to x% of Fafnir's ATK, and simultaneously consumes all Gnitaheath Markers on enemies, dealing an additional Fire DMG equal to x% of Fafnir's ATK. Detonation also triggers the effect of Gnitaheath Marker, but restores HP to all allies instead of only the ally at lowest HP.

Talent: Risk Premium

At each turn of an enemy who is affected by Gnitaheath Marker, the enemy takes DMG equal to x% of Fafnir's ATK. The DMG taken by the enemy is then converted into an equivalent amount HP, and is immediately transferred to an ally with the lowest HP. Gnitaheath Marker lasts for 2 turns. Gnitaheath Marker is considered a debuff. At E1: Gnitaheath Marker is consider Fire DoT.

Technique: House Edge

"Time for a blood game?" When entering battle, there is a 120% base chance of the enemy with the highest HP to be inflicted with Gnitaheath Marker.

◆ Voicelines

About Topaz...

"Little Miss Topaz, my favorite IPC agent! Her assignments bring her to my doorstep more often than not, and it is always refreshing to see her. Unfortunately, I haven't been able to convince her to step into the pit yet, unlike that colleague of hers. Hm, no matter. I quite enjoy our conversations away from the pit as well."

About Aventurine...

"Detestably card sharp, he is. He'd never take a gamble he wouldn't win—so I suppose we are two birds of a feather, in that regard."

Added to a team with Dan Heng - Imbibitor Lunae...

"My, my, a Vidyadhara? And a High Elder, no less... this will be interesting indeed."

Hobbies...

"Sometimes, when I feel particularly bored, I like to stroll across the catwalks above the pits. There's something particularly, hm, gratifying, about watching the going-ons of the pit. Someone may be winning, and someone may be losing, but in the end... well, the true winner has been decided long before they bought in."

Chat - Heritage...

"You wish to know about my heritage as a Scion of Long? I'm afraid there isn't much to tell. Many eras ago, my first incarnation was a follower of the Permanent Lord, and was bestowed the ability shared by all Scions. Hm? Others like me? ...I must disappoint you again, for they are no longer here."

Chat - True Form

"My true form? Heh... such a bold request. How about we play a game of blackjack, and if you win, I'll indulge you."

Developer Notes:

Fafnir is inspired by the dragon (or worm) of the same name in Germanic legend and folklore.

Fafnir's title, Avaricious Embracer, is a nod to the translation of Fafnir's name from Old Norse as 'the Embracer'.

Fafnir's color scheme is generally black/gold/yellow. The yellow-gold color of her eyes and the hints of yellow in her appearance are intended to convey her primary character trait of greed, since yellow is the representative color of greed.

Gnitaheath is the name of Fafnir's lair in the legends.

Fafnir is a Scion of Long, but not a Vidyadhara. I may expand on the lore of her 'lineage' through her stories at a later date.

Fafnir's Talent, 'Gnitaheath Marker', is named after casino markers; interest free, short-term lines of credit given to players by the casinos to encourage playing, although they are also expected to be promptly paid back.

Fafnir's true form is about the size of adult Drogon, from Game of Thrones.

Fafnir's kit is designed to be somewhat reminiscent of her character: someone who gives nothing, and only takes. I tried to give her kind of a life-steal mechanic similar to the one in PTN, though I'm not too sure how well it worked out, LOL.

I can't think of a character similar enough to how I envision Fafnir to add as a reference, and I can't draw for shit so my saving grace is once again Picrew. This isn't 1:1 how Fafnir looks like, as I picture her as having a skin tone more similar to Kaeya's (and my own), but alas, my Picrew options were limited. Nonetheless, this is the closest I can get as of now, so enjoy (?) one smug, bastard scrooge woman:

picrew link: https://picrew.me/ja/image_maker/6324

UPDATE: my absolutely amazing showstopping talented mutual @e-hibiscus drew fafnir and it is truly THE MOST amazing thing i’ve ever seen and is 1:1 exactly how i picture fafnir in my mind, they’re a super amazing artist and writer and i’m truly honored to be their moot !!

THAT’S HER !! THAT’S THE STINKY BASTARD DRAGON WOMAN !!!

[writing-frenzy]

Here come SI off the rails :D

Brain worms have arrived and shored up some of my remaining will to dream once more :D

And of course it dreams up a way to maybe, maybe give our favorite traumatized imaginary shield character a reason to actually smile and mean it. (Maybe?)

And of course, I forever fell in love with the SI OC trope, soooo weeeeee, buckle up everyone and thing, this one is gonna be a doozy.

First off, our SI boy was playing HSR, trying out a full imaginary team comp of Luocha, Walt, Aventurine, and Yukong when sudden, traumatizing death. It is not pretty, it is horrible, it is scaring, and it literally almost breaks our poor mc's mind; how can they not ask, beg for someone, anyone to save them?

It's a good thing (or is it) that something does.

Whether it is Aha on some sort of new kick, a manipulation of destiny, or even a certain Mother Goddess at work, our poor soul gets taken into a new world; but not as they were. Their mind and body were too broken when they were transferred, so the being had to get creative.

So, they took some inspiration from the team they were playing in their most recent memories, taking from doomed versions of themselves who were willing to trade for their own wishes in turn (and oh, how many were doomed in all the paths; there would always be one with a simple wish to fulfil easily.)

So, the MC becomes a meshed form of the Imaginary team of Luocha, Welt, Yukong and Aventurine: he is a good height, about 5-9, not six foot because Aventurine and Yukong are shorter taking it down a bit. He has Welt's brown hair, but it seems to be a bit messy and longer, what with all the hair styles, which he has to braid to keep in order and less annoying. And for all he seems human, he actually does have Foxian ears and tail, along with most of the bloodline perks, but hides it with illusions and tricks for reasons. His skins is tanner and kissed beautifuly by the sun, and his eyes are really cool, being a mixture of Aventurine's shape and style, but with the other three's colors. he also looks late 20's/early 30's just imagine him with welt's eye lines because the character maker doesn't have that. (The glasses are there for reasons and this is him illusioned because the ears were just not meshing for me.)

As for the eyes, I tried my best TT^TT (headcannon that most Avgin's eyes are usually in shades of brown to gold, with rarer shades of darker purples and even green at times, going with how Avgin means Honey and all, so with Kakavasha being born with not only bright beautiful eyes, it also has blue in them like water? and it rains? yeah, no wonder they thought he was blessed.)

But yeah, with his appearance over, now we get an interesting little bit about him; his path is Remembrance :D how? he has no clue, only that his memories are pretty shitty now, he knows random ass stuff (gifts from the other four; my guy know so many loopholes now for the IPC) he instinctively knows how to use his powers, just has to practice with control, but what was his favorite food? his dream in life? his actual name? nadda, zilch. He does know his power is literally a mixture of all four of his Imaginary team, allowing his skill to produce shields that also buff and/or heal his allies, with them disappearing can either randomly heal, buff, or do nothing before they go. His Ult is a mixture of Luocha's, Yukongs, and Welt's, doing incredible damage while also debuffing his enemies to hell and back, and even letting his team heal like with Luocha's. This doesn't even count in the terrifying follow up attack, that randomly does whatever the fuck it wants to :D tiny black holes to devour enemies? shower of golden rain that heals allies by draining the enemy's own life? this is only scratching the surface~

Yup, our boi is a OP beast :3

Did I forget to mention he came to this world with half the damage he got from his death? So it's very lucky where he ended up; a few years before the Avgin's genocide, luckily found by the tribe where they took him in, who while hesitant about the stranger, couldn't turn him away, then felt well they didn't when they finally opened their eyes to see they were one of them. Even if he's of mixed blood, he is still one of their own and came back to them, even as harmed and damaged as he is.

Not to mention just how talented and powerful he is.-

The wise woman watches, with her guard, as the stranger to their ways learns with an appetite like starving dog, so keen and willing to continue struggling on even with the barest of scraps. It is a kin to someone struggling with quicksand, finally finding some leverage that can save them from demise just in time, light entering those eyes once more. But like a beaten dog, they shy from most touch, hesitant and still, eyes watchful as they take in all threats to their self before they settle into a long wait, ready to attack.

It makes it both tragic and amazing, seeing someone so strong, someone she has seen break rock and stone with but a thought, so obviously broken, but willing still to heal. She knows her guard would like for this stranger to become part of the guard, to let others know of his strength so that they can better themselves and their people.

But the wise woman did not live so long to be wise as she was with simple thoughts and hopes like those; she saw signs everywhere, she has read omens in the sands and wind, reads the bones with ease; besides a select few, no one knows of their stanger's talents.

She names him Sarth, for his always thoughtful ways (and to hide within sight, just that for all his power, it is his mind most terrifying of all.)

(He was found under the stars for protection and warning, waking only when the stars for secrets was high in the sky. She sees how gentle, ever so kind their stranger is for the children, and she makes her decision.

She finds she will never regret it, traitors in their mist, the men in the black uniforms abandoning them, telling their stranger to please, please, if nothing else, save their children and ill away from this mess. If nothing else, she knows that at least the 452 with him will live.)

-so yeah, I have feels about those still being missing being 3,452 people; i just yoinked a chunk for myself, my guy Sarth covering everyone with his ridiculous powers, stealing a ship he found (interestingly, it was an illegal drug merchant who was currently being killed, so it would be a long, looooong time before someone notices one missing ship that was destined to be scraped because of damages and age over the years.) My guy is desperate, knowing of the discrimination they will face from practically everyone in the universe, not knowing who to ask or even if there is anyone willing to aid them; the IPC is shady as heck, he doesn't think Himeko has fixed the express yet, and their ship is running on luck, prayers, and Yukong's memories and knowledge of flying through even worse with even more tragic of conditions.

Sarth could really, really use a break right now; everyone with him at that.

Then in walk some Fools; Sarth somehow not only impresses them, he even tricks them, getting one fool, who goes by as Tricky Trickster, delighted (because what's more delightful then tricking others? Himself getting tricked in new and innovating ways. After all, how else could one learn to better themselves?)

So, my guy is able to enter in a game of high stakes with the Fools; he has 6 chances to win his people the chance to live well, with food in their bellies, chances for education, no worries of threats, the complete secrecy of their survival, all that good chance... here is the thing; he has to win at least four games, because the hightest amount of people that can be saved per game is 113 people, so yeah, four games would equal the 113 peeps. (he doesn't count himself; he can at least get along in this universe, he has power and tricks on his side, he can do what must be done; all these sick, injured, or too young? they can't.)

So he plays the games, winning two at first, getting 226 from there... only to lose the third game; what he loses is decided by random on a wheel, with him in the end nearly ending up practically blind, his eyes basically just for decoration now... he almost loses the fourth, but by chance actually wins, getting another 113 people. but this luck doesn't hold by the fifth game, this time he loses 20 years of freedom, to begin after the games are done and to serve in the Tavern. the last game is done with bated breath, the last 113 people's lives hanging by a thread, when MC pulls off yet another miracle; he uses the memories of harmony and abundance, sealing with preservation to gain back what little sight he can to win the game, saving all 452 people that came with him. there is much tears, crying, sobbing and mourning because once more something is taken from the Avgins but they persevere, many promising that they will do what they can for him in turn.

(In the end, they find an interesting item, one that can channel things with multiple paths and contain it, shaping to whatever the owner needs. Those are now shaped into glasses for Sarth to wear so he can see, only able to be removed by himself. it doesn't feel like much to the Avgins, it feels paltry for all he has done for them, but Sarth loves and adores anything he gets from them, to the honestly little mudpies from the kids to even the gems others offer; his favorite is the company they offer.)

So yeah, in my head, when the Trailblazer enters the planet of Festivities, my guy is near the very end of his service term, with maybe a year or two left.

This is so far what I have for him, but I must say; he gives off Dilf energy like hard core and the thirst for him is real :D

[inbetweenknacksandnooks]

Honkai Star Rail Masterlist

Current Interest Level: High

Click here for the Core Hub's Masterlist.

NSFW will be labeled as 🔞

If a work has trigger warnings it'll be labeled as TW: [the trigger warning(s)]

Note: Each fic is also color-coded on how accurate to the character I believe I've done it to. Every character is also color-co-ordinated on how well I believe I can write them overall, which may be helpful if some of ya'll don't like OOC, or want to request something.

Here are the color-keys

LightBlue = Pretty Good(85%+) accuracy, these are what I believe are the most character-accurate)

Green = Moderately-well (55% and above, but at or below 80%). These are characters and works that I believe I can get in character, but there may be OOC.

Orange = 0% Accuracy, definite OOC. I don't know how they tick, or their personality very well, or I simply don't know how to write for them, but I'm willing and wanting to write for them anyway.

Purple = EXCLUSIVELY PLATONIC. These are characters I definitely don't feel comfortable writing about for smut, or in a romantic setting, so instead it's for fluffy friendship stuff.

Red = Characters I WON'T write for, I'll just get them out of the way, here though:

Will not write for: Bailu, Quinque, Hanya, Guinaifen, Huohuo, Fu Xuan, Herta, Jingliu, Sparkle, Sushang

If the masterlist is confusing in some way, or you have suggestions for it, you can reach out and tell me.

Herta Space Station

Asta:

Ruan Mei:

Astral Express

Himeko:

March 7th:

Stelle:

Stelleron Hunters

Kafka:

Silver Wolf:

Firefly:

The IPC

Topaz:

Jade:

Belebog

Bronya:

Serval:

Natasha:

Seele:

Lynx:

Pela:

Hook:

Clara:

Xianzhou Luofu

Xueyi:

Yukong:

Tingyun:

Huohuo:

Penacony

Black Swan:

Siobhan:

Acheron:

Robin:

Robin Fluff Alphabet!

Multiples!

What every (non-platonic) HSR girl smells like!

Part 1 (Asta, Himeko, March 7th, Stelle)

Part 2 (Kafka, Firefly, Topaz, Jade)

Part 3 (Bronya, Serval, Natasha, Seele)

Part 4 (Xueyi, Ruan Mei, Yukong, Tingyun)

Part 5 (Black Swan, Siobhan, Acheron, Robin)

General.

(Aka: Nothing specific. Moreso world-building than anything character-specific. Currently only contains saHSRAU (self-aware HSR AU) "worldbuilding".

saHSRau.

General Worldbuilding (My personal ruleset-headcanons).

How Characters on a Secondary Account Work

A/N: Kinda crowded, honestly. I might need to make lists on just the areas, because this color splashing is almost eye-filth...

[ladytrollfishes]

Cresce: Find Yourself. Kind of.

Cresce Aubade | 10 Sweeps, 22 years | At the 12th Perigee Ball ----

You take a deep breath, smiling, and drink in the applause. A venue like the 12th Perigee Ball comes around only, well- twice a sweep, and you’ve never had a live audience this big. The sound soars around you, the cadence of claps only rivaled by the brass band of the sound’s of the crowd’s appreciation. It almost drowns out the rest of the crowd’s desires. Like hunger- probably eyeing the buffet bar, longing- perhaps pining for lost lovers glimpsed in the crowd, and even grumpiness and relief, that your song is over.

Well, the crowd wants what it wants! And most the crowd likes you. You give the crowd a glittering smile and toss out a wave before you turn to leave the stage, tossing a sincere thank you to the accompanying band and accepting the compliments of those standing near the steps.

You spare a glance to the crowd to see if you can find Melete’s enormous fur robe in the crowd, and find out what she thinks of that. You had written it, after all, in a fit of pique after the incident with the after hours office break in and the tiff about recycling notes. You hadn’t made any obvious references to what happened, and tuned it up a bit so that it was a little more mainstream, but you wonder if she recognizes the inspiration.

There’s a little room behind the stage for performers to prepare. It’s not much- it’s got a couple seats a large mirror for anyone to check how they looked before they went on stage, and a set of lockers for the performer’s things. You left a thermos of fruit tea there- the song’s left you a little parched.

No, Melete would not realize. The biggest reference you made to it was jumping out the window and she had no idea you had done that. And no one had to know that was true.

Another troll is the room, waiting to take up the stage. A ceruleanblood, looking out of place in an ill fitting suit, with a lip and several horn piercings, and fiddling with an electric guitar.  He flashes a nervous smile at you, just brimming with anxious excitement. You give him two thumbs up.

“You’re going to do great,” you encourage him, pushing enough power behind your words that he’ll feel it. He smiles back at you, the quick staccato of his melody easing off to something smoother.

“Thanks,” he says, relieved. “You did great yourself.” You beam back at him, until he steps onto the stage. He’ll remember you, you’re pretty sure.

If he was this nervous, surely he hadn’t done so many shows before. The 12th Perigee Ball wasn’t quite so exclusive when it came to performances, but certainly standards should be a little tighter.

You unscrew your thermos and take a sip when you hear someone else approach the room, a discordant jangle of unpleasant feelings. You sort out low tones of anger and disgust and a warble of grim satisfaction. Who could be performing with that sort of feeling? You check your lipstick quickly in the mirror to make sure nothing is smeared before straightening your shoulder. You ready a quick word that could set someone’s mind at ease, and a smile to welcome the newcomer.

You’re not prepared for what you find.

She’s wearing a simple dress, down to her ankles with a slit up to her knee, but in a rich velvet so purple it was almost black. Her neck and wrists sparkle with jewels that drop near to her waist, white crystals in a balls and drops and strung together on fine lace and silk threads. Her outfit makes you feel under dressed.  

But that’s not the worst of it.

She’s got a thick face full of paint of the Mirthful, thick greys smeared with impeccable lines on white, but the resemblance is unmistakable. Her cheeks are outlined with a grey that gives her more cheekbone than she has, but that was the soft shape of your jaw and the broad curve of your nose. Her horns are an exact mirror of yours. You have the suspicion that if you reached out and brushed off the paint on her cheek, you’d find a mole in the exact mirror spot as yours. Her eyes are surrounded with a grey that makes them look like they’re set deeper into your face, but she fixes you with a glare of bright indigo eyes of your own exact hue.

You feel yourself knocked off kilter, staring back at some strange, twisted reflection of yourself. One that’s inexplicably angry at you, you realize with some shock, as the thrum of her anger grows, for all that she’s not moving.

She’s furious, to be standing in this room with you. She hates you. It’s practically deafening, like it shouldn’t come from one person, the brass horns of fury and high, screeching strings of… grief?

The soundscape changes in an instant, the silence of shock, then the thud of anger as she takes a step forward.

You stiffen, straightening your spine against her approach, even as you note that she has muscle under the ripple of black velvet, more than you. There’s a guard backstage, but is that enough if things get that- she halts in front of you, unsmiling but you can hear low flutes announce satisfaction.

She knows you’re afraid. You pull your chin up further, glaring down at her- you’re taller than her, or maybe you’re just wearing higher heels. You refuse to be intimidated, you push back, drawing on anger as your cheeks color underneath your makeup.

She smirks, that flute’s satisfaction flowing easy until there’s that note of grief again and mixed with longing. The second you ponder it, it disappears again into anger.

She doesn’t just look like you. She has your powers. She can hear what you hear, and she can hear you.

A signmate? She’s clearly older than you- you’ve barely begun to shed your baby greys. An ancestor?

For all that you were surrounded by signmates and ancestors on campus, everyone knew that was because the IPC maintained and tinkered their gene banks to create the best soldiers and spies. You had been found and recruited growing up in the middle of nowhere. It had never occured to you there might be another living troll in your line.

Suddenly, at your very core, you understand what Melete must feel about Nomizo.

“Who are you?” you suddenly demand, and switch your wetware to ‘record’.

The other Aubade laughs, a low chuckle under her breath, though she doesn’t take her eyes off yours. She’s genuinely amused but the sound of flitting flutes rather feels like the sound of wriggler songs at the start of horror films.

“Why,” she says slowly. “I would have thought that would be obvious.”  She even sounds like you, you note with a flare of anger. A touch lower in pitch, you think, but there’s a musical lilt to her tone. If she was a singer, on top of everything else- you wouldn’t be replaced by some copycat.

Your fists ball up at your sides. You will not be brawling in the back room of the 12th Perigee Ball, with someone who looks exactly like you. That’s the sort of thing that draws paparazzi and puff pieces in gossip rags.

“And really, Cresce,” she murmurs with another ripple of a flute’s amusement at anger and shock at the use of your name. It’s not the stage name you made sure was put into the program. “You really shouldn’t be angry with the truth. What was that drivel you sung on stage? In front of everyone?” She tilts her head to examine you and steps to your side. She moves like a lion, with a sort of coiled anticipation.

You step to mirror her. You refuse to be circled like prey, even though her words sting like hell. And where did she get your name from?

“Ugh,” you say, as your mouth curls in disgust. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those hipsters who can’t appreciate art if it’s popular.”

A note of anger. You’ll have to review to see if it was anger at your attitude or the assumption you made.

“Impudent,” she chastises you softly, though you can feel the danger in her flashing eyes. “Careful how you speak to your betters.”

Your betters. You snarl. It’s not the sort of thing you usually do. You had put hard work into your image as friendly and kind to everyone, but this other Aubade who strolled in as if she owned everything didn’t deserve it. You toss your curls and straighten up again, drawing up your chin and to look down at the other Aubade like she was dirt on the street.

“Your name,” you bite, haughty as you’ve ever been. The rhythm of her anger thunders with the loud thumping of your pumper, but when she moves its slow and deliberate.

She extends a finger and wags it at you, shaking her head.

“Tsk, tsk,” she says. “I don’t think you deserve to ask me that.”

Your eyes narrow. This other Aubade is using pressure tactics, cornering you alone, with the upper hand in information while constantly positioning herself as superior and deserving. It’s designed to set up a dynamic where you’re always off balance, always defending your sense of worth until you’re too worn out to realize what you’ve given away.

Darkbone’s Assault, they called it in class. This Aubade’s an interrogarroter too.

You lose it. You break out of your circling to lunge, seizing a handful of jewels, and shoving her backwards into the lockers. There’s a cymbal crash in your ears, shock and anger at once as her eyes widen once in shock as you snarl in her face.

“I’ll ask what I want,” you snap. “And I don’t think I asked for your opinion, now did I?”

Her fingers close around your throat, and she uses your neck as leverage to yank your head down and to the side. You stagger to the side, trying not to tip over when she pulls you upright again and slams you into the same lockers you pushed her into.

“Now,” she murmurs, her voice just above a whisper. You can barely hear it over her fury, and you know you answer in the same anger as you start to wrestle her fingers off your neck. “Cresce. Listen carefully. You are a disgrace to our line. You dance with rabble. Your music is terrible. You pander for validation. You’re not even Mirthful. If I were you, I would tread very carefully, lest… someone decides to do some pruning.”

She presses her fingers into your windpipe with a terrible, terrible joy as a gurgle escapes your throat, and just as you get a grip on her fingers, she lets go, her face stony, as her cacophony starts up again.

You stumble away, too incensed for words. How dare she? How dare she?! Your necklace pokes your collar uncomfortably, and when you touch it, you discover she left her finger dents in it when she tried to strangle you. You tear it off and crumple the metal in your fist. The stone pops out of its misshapen setting and tumbles behind you and you toss the whole thing to the ground. You’d never be able to wear it again anyway, not without thinking of this moment.

“Cresce,” she says, quietly, quieter than her feelings, but it’s the only thing you can make sense of. Her melody is a rage, a cacophony you don’t have the wherewithal to sort through. She steps forward again, but you’ve had enough. You grab your thermos and flee.

You want to go to the bathroom to see what the damage has been, but you’re not about to head somewhere quiet and private for the other Aubade to follow you again. Instead you step into the ballroom, where it seems like the whole planet is dancing. No one notices your entrance, not with the ceruleanblood with the suit shredding his guitar. That suits you just fine, for once.

You keep to the sides of the ballroom, near the balconies and the shadier corners, until you find an empty one, and pull out your mirror compact to check the damage. You’re missing your necklace, of course, and your neck has a few bumps and scratches that weren’t present before, noticeable little dots of indigo against the light grey of your skin. No bruising though, which you consider a positive. You dab foundation onto the most obvious marks, wincing as they sting a little. It would be fine- you’d wash off when you returned hive.

Your makeup is fine, but your hair is a mess. You can’t really take care of it without both your hands and a mirror, so you take out your hair tie and let your curls fall out where they will. At least this way it looks more purposeful, and less like you had fought someone. When you’re done, your hands are still shaking. You unscrew your thermos and take a few deep draughts of the lukewarm tea but it barely helps in calming you down. Your throat is sore, but nothing worth taking to the medicullers. It’d fade in a bit and the tea helps.

Do you go hive? No. The hive was empty and you definitely don’t want to be alone right now. You could find Rumisa- she’d chatter at you until you forgot about it- no. No. Rumisa adored subbjugulators. If the other Aubade approached you wouldn’t be able to trust she wouldn’t shower her with affection as well.

One of the other sops you picked up through the night? No, they liked you because you were fun and made them feel good about themselves. None of them would like you if you were the least bit upset, and none of them would stick around if the other Aubade approached.

No, you’d find Melete. She was oblivious enough to perhaps overlook the obvious signs of distress and your missing necklace, and if the other Aubade approached, well. You’re at least certain she wouldn’t mock you for it, not with how she is with Nomizo.  And if she doesn’t want your company, well, you’re not really sure.

You do know how to play to an audience. You could be silent, for once. Surely she wouldn’t begrudge you that.

[skegulium]

The Road to Hell is Paved with Clocks and Good Intentions

==>Tomois, 11 sweeps

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. You wish you had something heavy to throw, but everything that could smash that clock was way out of your reach. There was a lamp on your hospital bedside, but your hands… Well. An experimental rattle of your wrists only served to remind you of the padded cuffs locked around them. So all you could really do was lie there and listen to it the empty hospital room. No escape, just the endless clicking of a fucking clock. There wasn't much else to do unless you wanted to watch more tv on the flatscreen built into the wall or… Sleep you guess. That's all you had. TV, sleep, or the clock.

The room was pretty much almost empty except for you, the bed, a sole chair that your captors dragged in, the door to the hall, the bathroom, a bedside table and the fucking clock.  So exciting, you know, how could you even live here with the constant stimulation of such a busy environment! It's insane! Wow! Much noise! Very exciting

… Yeah no, not even the sarcasm helped ease how bored you were. Or how agitated. The soft ticking of the clock was a constant now in your new life and frankly, you’re starting to wonder if you actually did die and go to hell or something like that.

If you did die, do you think you’d see Moirah and Ardela there? The Empire always put out mirthful propaganda that claimed that rebels and treasonous trolls always went to hell to suffer for their sins. Would hell be better if you had them with you? Would it be easier for all of you if you had died with them? It might have been for you, if it was an option. If only the Fleet took longer to drag out out of the wreckage… Licking your lips, you shifted to look down your body at your legs. Leg? You don’t know, all you know is that there was one long mound where your right leg was and… Nothing where your left one was supposed to be. And if you focused really, really hard, you can feel the cold hospital air against your skull where you knew ugly stitches stood out against pale skin where they sewed it back together over your brand new metal plate. You’re glad your hands are pinned down at this point because you’re not sure if you could have stopped yourself from playing with the stitches. You didn’t want them, you wanted to pull them out and let yourself bleed and maybe go back home with your quads and your friends wherever they were now, hell, heaven or purgatory - “Hello, Tomois?” You jump at the voice, twisting your head to look at the hall door and feeling the stitches in your head bump against your pillow. It hurts, but you keep your head there because you probably deserve that. You don’t even tell the teal walking in to fuck off like you want to, so you definitely deserve it. Stick to your guns, asshole! Say something mean! Make fun of the mole on her lip! Anything! Licking your lips again, you lifted up one hand to wave it at her. “Hi,” You croak, and the teal beams at you as she closes the hospital room door. There’s a chair near your bed, near the window looking into the hall and she pulls it close so that she sat near your side, the one that had a leg. She’s kind of pretty, you guess. It’s hard to tell how old she is since she’s definitely hit that point in her life where she’s stopped aging - a bonus of being highblooded - but she looks nice. Clean, crisp clothes, a pristine lab coat with the IPC logo on it, and you notice she’s lugging two tall crutches with her that she rests up against the wall next to the bed. Her almond eyes have just the tiniest crinkle to them and her round cheeks are just a tad flushed with color and she tucks a stray strand of hair from her bun back behind her ear. She looks kinder than anyone else you’ve met and you’re just so suspicious. You’re quiet as she settles in and she gives you another small smile before she reaches forward to shake your hand. “My name is Cadnic but you can call me Caddy. It’s really nice to meet you, I’ve heard a lot about you Tomie and I’m sorry for everything that’s happened to you so far. How are you holding up?” You just want to scream. God, you want to yell and jerk at your restraints and kick whatever legs you have left and yell that you’re doing horrible thank you very much, you're One Leg Joe now, they gave you a fucking shaved head during surgery, you look fucking hideous and your fucking friends are dead because of you and everything is terrible and horrible and here she is trying to be sooooo fucking nice to you and you hate it, you hate her and you hate yourself and this room and the Empire and the Empress and she has the audacity to call you Tomie - WHICH!! You never even told anyone that name which means she probably looked through your shit and messages on your phone and you want to cry -  “Could be better,” You whisper out, giving her a wary, half hearted smile. “It uh, kinda sucks being stuck in a bed but they let my have a TV with some channels. It’s nice. I guess. Food sucks bulge though.” Caddy beams at you again and gives your hand a small squeeze before letting go. “I’m glad! Unfortunately I can’t do much about the food, but I think I have something I could do about being in bed all the time.” She gestures on over to the crutches and you adjust your head to crane at them. The stitches dig into your scalp again but it's a dull, deserving pain as you glance back on over to her. “Of course,” She continues. “There will be some restrictions on where you can go with them and remember, it's a gift from me but your doctors will call it a privilege. You've behaved incredibly well while you were here so I decided it was time for you to get some mobility back! If you can promise you'll keep behaving, we can let you try them out.”

Well. You weren't expecting that but you know what? You'll take it. Swallowing, you look her in the eyes and nod, just a bit. “Okay,” you hoarsely whisper. “I can behave.”

“Great!” And the next thing you knew, her hands jingled some keys and the cuffs fell away from your hands.

It's… Weird to be mobile again and you take a moment to rub your wrists. Fingers run over bumpy scars six sweeps old and you inhale deep before you push yourself up to sitting. “Be careful,” Caddy cautions as she helps guide you up, one hand on your shoulder but you don't say a word. One leg swings off the bed and then another - oh. Right. There is no other and you awkwardly hang one leg off the bed as she gets the crutches ready for you. You balance them in front of you and inhale, long and deep before you grip the handles.

They're cold in your hands and for a moment fear seizes your heart and your vision blacks out. Suddenly you're back in the cockpit of that ship. The handles are hard and cold in your grip and sirens are blasting all around you and there's a hand on your shoulder, small and delicate as she screams in your ear to hurry, hurry, hurry -

“Tomie?” A voice pops up, quieter and kinder than the one in your head. “Are you okay?”

When you pull yourself back into your body, you're breathing harder than you expected. You're hunched over, crutches gripped with white knuckles in your hands and you're shaking from the effort. Caddy is petting at one of your shoulders and you focus on that instead of the fear pounding through your chest. It's soothing, kind of, and little by little you can feel your chest ease up and your back straighten. Cool hands slide up your shoulder and there's a hand on your cheek, on the scarred side, and you're too exhausted to even flinch away.

She's smiling again. You stare at her through a half lidded eye and she just pats your cheek gently. “Look, see, you're safe and sound,” she murmurs, brushing long tendrils of your hair out of your face. You dimly think you'll have to cut that later to match the shaved side. Thanks, surgeon, for the whole new haircut you didn't ask for. “Do you want to lie back down? We can try this again later. We shouldn't push you any harder than you can handle.”

Oh no. Oh no no, you couldn't stand the idea of lying down in that bed for another day, not when you had crutches in your hand and your wrists free. It's all you had and you shook your head and pulled away from her hand. “No,” you rasp out. “I can do this. I just - give me a minute and I'll figure it out. Please.”

Caddy just nods at your plaintive pleas and she steps back as you get a grip on the crutches again. There's no flashback this time around and for that, you're grateful. It gives you a minute to focus on pulling yourself up onto them and tucking them under your shoulder and…

You stand.

It's awkward, you feel like you're about to topple with one leg, but Caddy is right by your side with her fingertips on your back. You have to shuffle your wait around a bit but you think… You think you've got it. Maybe.

Once you're up and standing, Caddy’s face just breaks out into the biggest grin and you can't help but look up at her and smile back weakly. “Good job!” she gushes and she steps away to give you more room. “Can you move? Can you try for the bathroom?”

You glance across your hospital room towards the door in the corner that lead to it. It's not that far, maybe you can make it. “Yeah, I think so, maybe. Uhm, okay, let's - let's try it.”

It takes some finangling but you do it! There's a close call or two but you make it to the bathroom, inside the bathroom, back outside and around the room. Caddy was glued to your side as you moved, your hands struggling to keep a good grip on the crutches as you moved. The more you moved though, the more you got used to how to how much weight you had to put on your only leg. It was such a small thing, walking around the room, but for the first time in three weeks you felt…

Free.

Free-er, at least. On your second lap through the room and bathroom, you catch a good look at yourself in the mirror.

Stijon said once you were a handsome troll. He said it with an adoring smile on his lips and a thumb on your chin and his leg hooked around yours. He said you had pretty, open eyes - and then he’d laugh and correct himself to eye - and Moirah agreed when she stroked a hand across your cheek. A cheek she thought was chubbier than it needed to be, but also too thin? When did he last eat, she'd say before she pinched them. It was a joke, of course, you ate plenty but it was a good excuse to get all of you out for takeout somewhere.

Now?

Your big, pretty eye was sunken in and bruised. Your cheeks were just as bruised and you can see the faint blue marks of a fresh cut healing on your chin. There was one long, angry wound starting from the hairline of one side of your face and ran jagged across your shaved head and the skin puckered around the stitches. You looked like shit. You looked like a killer, a traitor, someone who should have fucking died in the wreckage with his friends. That's a quad-killer’s face, a quad-killer’s horns and lips and shitty, missing eye and -

“Hey, it's okay Tomie,” A voice calls out and you jump when you feel a hand slide between your shoulder blades. Good god, was she a fucking ninja? Caddy’s right there and she's all concerned and caring and shit and she lifts up a piece of toilet paper to blot your cheek.

Oh . You didn't even realize you were crying.

“You did great tonight,” She says softly as she scrubs your cheek. “We know you can walk around. Do you want to stop for now? You seem tired.” You almost want to call her bullshit out for that, you're not tired! Just because you walked a bit doesn't mean you're fucking tired!

… But you don't fight her as she presses a hand on your back and leads you back to the bed. God, you're pathetic. This is why your friends died, you're pretty sure of it.

You ease into the bed soon enough and the moment that your back hits the mattress, you sag into it. There's still that lump of sadness and loathing burning in your chest and you turn your head to push your stitches against the pillow so you can get punished again for being fucking weak. Caddy doesn't seem to notice, thankfully. She's too busy tucking your crutches against the walk again and she's still full of smiles as she looks at you.

“Don’t you think that's a good introduction?” She beams. “Now, now that you've got your gift and tried it out, how are you doing?” Caddy is settling back into her chair now and she pulls out a fancy holoboard out of a pocket so she can take notes. Of course she's taking notes, she's some sort of doctor. “Can you tell me more about yourself, Tomie? Don't worry, I don't want to know about how you got here, unless you want to talk about it, I just want to know more about you since we'll be working together from here on out. I want to make sure I have your back through thick and thin and -”

“Can I just be alone for a bit?” You interrupt. It's a bit louder than you were aiming for, but that was too many words, too many questions wayyyy too quick for you and you still can't get your ugly mug out of your mind. “Like - you're nice and all but I just… I don't think I'm ready to do that. Not tonight. I'm tired. And hungry.” You're not either of those, but you don't want her to blather on at you.

Caddy falls silent after you speak and she just sits there and studies you. You're not looking straight back at her per se but you're like, looking at her chin. That's good enough. That'll fool her into thinking you're making eye contact, you're pretty sure. “... Of course,” She says after a long moment and pockets her holoboard. “it's a lot to take in, how about… We continue talking tomorrow, after you rest? Bright and early in the evening?”

You nod. Sure. Whatever. Whatever will make her leave you be for a bit so you can, you don't know, beat yourself up with your own crutches.

She accepts that though and next thing you know, she's up and heading for the door. She doesn't lock your wrists up again and you're not gonna point it out to her as she beams back at you. “Goodlight then, Tomie! I'll see you tomorrow night! Sleep well!”

The door lock clicks when she leaves and then suddenly, you're thrust back into silence.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

… Ah shit. You didn't think this through you forgot about the fucking clock. One hand comes up to your scalp and you scratch and pick at the edge of your stitches as you eye up the clock. Could you - ? Should you - ?

No, you mull as you start pulling at a stitch. You'll just tough it out. It's punishment. Your own personal hell. You're supposed to suffer here anyway so no TV, no nothing, just you, an empty room and a fucking. Fucking clock. You don’t know what it’ll accomplish. Maybe it won’t do anything, but maybe, you think as pain sears through your head and tears prick at your eyes again, just maybe it’ll wake you up out of whatever hellscape of a dream this is. Maybe if you suffer enough, Moirah and Ardala will pop out and yell ‘surprise!’ and you’ll all go get East Alternian food again. There’s the sensation of something running down the side of your head, but you don’t pay attention to it. What’s hell without pain after all? What’s hell without torture? There’s pain, that’s definitely getting it’s quota filled, and the torture, well… Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Who knew hell could be a clock in an empty, silent room?

[componentplanet]

A New Study Indicates Humans Self-Generate Misinformation

A delightful mess of Google-colored cables

A new study into sources of misinformation suggests that humans self-generate it on a regular basis by misrecalling information they’ve previously learned in ways that fit already-existing opinions and biases.

The term misinformation is specifically defined as Merriam-Webster as “incorrect or misleading information.” It is distinct from terms like disinformation, which is defined as “false information deliberately and often covertly spread (as by the planting of rumors) in order to influence public opinion or obscure the truth.” One of the major differences between misinformation and disinformation is motive. Disinformation campaigns are always deliberate, misinformation can be spread in good faith.

The sources of misinformation matter a great deal if your goal is to deepen people’s understandings of facts and improve the quality of public discourse. If you think about how information is distributed, you probably picture some version of a top-down model: Something happens, eyewitnesses and journalists converge on it, and the information they collectively report filters down to all of us through whatever media we use to consume it. The education system uses more-or-less the same model.

Typically, when people think about fighting misinformation, we think about it in terms of fact-checking sources and ensuring the data in an article or textbook is as complete and up-to-date as possible. I check facts like die sizes, launch dates, and benchmark results on a regular basis to make certain that I’m writing factual data.

A new paper published in Human Communication Research suggests, however, that we’ve been overlooking a significant source of misinformation — and it’s going to be far more difficult to fix: Humans appear to self-generate misinformation even when they’ve been given the facts. This study focused on numerical misinformation — i.e., mistransmission of data related to specific factual information that study participants had been given. The fundamental goal of the experiment was to measure whether or not humans would remember numbers better if the claims they were given were consistent or inconsistent with the beliefs of the individual.

To test this, individuals were presented with data on topics like support for same-sex marriage in the US, gender preferences for one’s boss, the number of Mexican immigrants in the United States, and the total number of white people killed by police in 2016 versus the total number of black people. The individuals being tested were polled for their own pre-test expectations on these topics and the data presented to them was given in a manner that was both consistent with what individuals believed would be true or was chosen to present facts they were less likely to believe are true. Table 1, shown below, shows the framing for the experiment:

Individual polling of the test group showed that the poll results aligned with expectations, which is why this is called “schema consistent.” In the case of Mexican immigrants, people expected there to be more immigrants in 2014 than in 2007, when in fact the opposite was true. The first group of participants were asked to answer questions based on the data they had just seen. Their answers were then used to inform the questions that were shown to a second group of people. The answers from that group were used to inform the questions asked to a third group of people.

The image above shows how the system worked. The test was administered using numerical sliders to give answers and using text input. Effectively, this replicates a game of telephone — each person is transmitting the version of data they remember. Before you look at the next slide, let’s quickly review: Americans generally expect there were more Mexican immigrants in the US in 2014 than in 2007, they believe police killed more black people than white people in 2016, they prefer a male boss to a female boss, and they favor support for same-sex marriage. Now, look at what the test results showed. The values on the far left of the graph are the actual statistics, in every case. Wave 1 indicates the answers of the first group, Wave 2 the second group, etc.

When presented with data that conflicted with their own previously held beliefs, humans get really bad at math. The drop in Mexican immigrants that occurred from 2007 – 2014 reverses in Wave 1. The very first people who saw the data literally couldn’t remember the answer correctly and flipped the values, associating 2007 with fewer immigrants and 2014 with more. Importantly, these results continue to diverge when transmitted to Wave 3. In other words, it’s not just that people think that the overall Mexican immigrant population must have risen because of the passage of time. Wave 1 overestimated the number of Mexican immigrants by 900,000. Wave 3 overestimated it by 4.1 million. In this case, the initial figure of total immigrants doesn’t drop all that much and most of the inaccuracy is introduced by grossly inflated estimates of how many Mexicans moved to the US over this period.

With police shootings, Wave 1 manages to remember that more whites than blacks were shot, even if both values are wrong. Starting with Wave 2, we get the same crossover that we saw with Wave 1 — except in this case, the initial value keeps being shoved lower.

The data on police shootings shows a little more staying power. While the absolute values both moved towards reversing, Wave 1 still remembered which group was larger. By Wave 2 — remember, that’s the group that used the answers Wave 1 gave — that effect has completely reversed. This time, however, both numbers have come unmoored from their original data points in both tests.

But if you give people data they do expect, they show completely different mental patterns — not so much necessarily in terms of absolute accuracy, but at least in terms of relationships. In the case of percentage of Americans who prefer a male versus a female boss, the percentages climb towards the group-reported estimate of belief rather than maintaining the initial levels given, even though the initial percentages show clear preference for male over female bosses (aligning with general group preference). In the last case, the number of Americans who favored same-sex marriage was underestimated, while the percentage opposed declined in Wave 1 and then moved back towards the actual value.

Participants in the NIH ResearchMatch version of the study were told that numerical percentages could not exceed 100 percent in the slider version, and also told that the total number of immigrants did not exceed 20 million, which may explain some of the differences, but the charts are in general agreement.

People Remember Facts Less Well if They Disagree With Them

There are two interesting findings here. First, there’s further evidence that people literally remember facts less-well if they don’t agree with them. For all the people who claim they change their mind if confronted with facts, the reality is that people tend to change their facts, not their opinions — even when asked to answer questions about information they literally just read.

This has serious implications for how we think, as a society, about the transmission of information from one mind to another. About a year ago, I wrote a story debunking some rumors about AMD’s then-future 7nm Ryzen CPUs. At the time, some individuals were arguing that AMD’s 7nm CPUs would simultaneously deliver huge price cuts, more cores, large clock speed increases, and a giant leap in IPC, simultaneously. My debunk article wasn’t 100 percent accurate — I guessed that AMD might not use chiplets for desktop Ryzen and reserve them for Epyc instead — but the final chips AMD launched bear absolutely no resemblance to the rumored configurations.

I addressed this topic several times over six months because this set of rumors simply would not die. I bolstered my arguments with historical CPU data, long-term CPU clock scaling trends, AMD’s statements to investors, AMD’s statements to the press, and long-term comparisons on the relationship between AMD’s margins and its net profits. I discussed increasing wafer costs and how chiplets, while a great innovation, were also a symptom of the problems AMD was facing.

Now, let me be clear. I’m not arguing that everyone who read those stories was somehow automatically obligated to agree with me. My prognostication record is anything but perfect and reasonable people can disagree on how they read broad industry trends. There’s a difference, however, between “I think 7nm clocks might come in a little higher than you do,” and “I think AMD will simultaneously slash prices, slash power consumption, and revolutionize semiconductors with generational performance gains we haven’t seen in almost a decade,” despite the fact that there was literally no evidence to support any of these positions.

If you showed up to argue the former, or something that even reasonably looks like it, I’m not talking about you. I’m talking about the vocal minority of people who showed up to argue that AMD was about to launch the Second Coming in silicon form. Those who didn’t predict my firing often suggested I’d be writing a tearful apology at some later date.

My point in bringing this up isn’t to rehash old arguments or toot my horn. My point is that there’s a real life example of this very phenomena that you can go and read about. I don’t know where these rumors started, but once they took hold, they proved quite tenacious. As good as Ryzen is — and 7nm Ryzen is great — the rumors about it were better than the CPU could ever possibly be. When confronted with this, some people got angry.

Short of giving the planet some in-depth training in overcoming cognitive bias, it’s not clear how to reduce the spread of person-to-person misinformation, and the authors conclude that more study is needed here. As important as it is to ensure the factual accuracy of primary sources, the fact that humans appear to generate misinformation in an effort to make that data align with pre-existing schemas means focusing solely on the primary source problem will never address its full scope.

Now Read:

Technology Enables ‘Fake News.’ Can It Help Stop It, Too?

YouTube, Like Facebook, Ignored Toxicity Warnings in Favor of ‘Engagement’

No One Wants to Talk About How Completely We Were Lied to

from ExtremeTechExtremeTech https://www.extremetech.com/extreme/303881-a-new-study-indicates-humans-self-generate-misinformation from Blogger http://componentplanet.blogspot.com/2019/12/a-new-study-indicates-humans-self.html

[the-fitsquad]

Microsoft Great Plains 7.5 On Pervasive SQL Migration To Windows 2008 Server Notes

Guide To Choosing An Workplace Chair

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There is also no reason why you could not have a second personal computer system with a 4k capable graphics card a committed 4k monitor (TVs have a tendency to consist of colour correction firmware that may possibly seriously detriment the look of the footage displayed on various brands of TVs due to variations in color calibrations) or a Television that has a menu selection to disable automatic color correction, to deal with the 4k colour grading and other image adjustment jobs, to finalize the video editing of your project, and make the footage appear as close to the vision you have in thoughts, within the limitations of the offered technology and your wallet (I do my video editing on a shoestring budget, and I can not afford even a 2k monitor without having automatic color correction, so I devote far too much time tweaking the color correction settings to get the look I want on two distinct TVs).

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[pcmobilezone]

AMD Ryzen 7 1800X Review

It’s been a long time coming -- seriously, how long have we all waited on this moment? The moment that AMD would release a performance series processor with increased IPC that can match up and battle with that blue colored company. Well, the wait is over and we’ll be using some proverbial wording today. It is March 2nd and, yes, it is a hard launch thus Ryzen 7 is available starting today. The eagle has landed and we’re very happy to present you guys with our first Ryzen review. Zen was initially the development codename for the new architecture, and as such we should probably drop that name immediately and move to Ryzen. Well, actually I need to elaborate even a little more -- to make matters a little more complicated, the codename for today's released 8-cores (16 threads) processor is in fact "Summit Ridge". AMD Ryzen 7 8-Core Processor Die As you guys have learned over the past few months, the 8-core Summit Ridge processor series from AMD is also the first Ryzen based product series released to the desktop consumer market. The architecture has been fabbed at a more efficient and optimized 14 nanometer FinFET process, rather than the 32 nm and 28 nm processes of previous AMD FX CPUs and AMD APUs, respectively. AMD's processors and APUs over the years have run their course really, for the gamer and more mainstream PC aficionado the older FX and APU series simply lack in raw processor performance compared to what the competition has been offering. We discussed it many times in the reviews, but if you compared an Intel processor core and an AMD processor core and clocked them at the very same frequency, Intel was almost half faster. The effect of that phenomenon showed in the less optimized and threaded applications, many games are a good example here. Today's tested product is to deliver, per CPU core, more than 40 percent improvement in instructions per clock cycle over the previous generation cores and will come to market first in an 8-cores, 16-threads system-on-chip for desktops, and that my friends is Summit Ridge. The new "Summit Ridge" Zen family will use the unified AM4 socket. Ryzen, and in particular today "Summit Ridge" is the high-end desktop (HEDT) product.

We have seen a lot of info go viral over the past few weeks, but I stated it many times, the initial product launch will entail only this 8-core part, followed in Q2 2017 by six and four core processors. Much like the competition AMD will be selling Ryzen in product stacks, low-end, mid-range and high-end much like Intel's Core i3, i5 and i7 series. Earlier on referred to as SR7, SR5 and SR3, matching up with Summit Ridge (SR) and thus a performance segment denominator. But then Summit Ridge from the new Zen architecture was named Ryzen, and hence one more change in naming has now been made. You will see Ryzen series 3, 5 and 7 processors. It’s plain and simple, and as always that works out the best to understand product positioning, we’ll go into more detail on the next few pages, of course.

The Ryzen series 7 processors are spicy, eight core processors at very attractive pricing combined with an IPC increase of roughly 52%. They come with four integer units, two address generation units and four floating point units, the decoder can decode four instructions per clock cycle. L1 data cache size is 32 KiB and 64 KiB for instructions, the L2 cache size is a whopping 512 KiB per core. Two of the floating point units are adders, two are multipliers. One unit that holds four processors is a CCX (core complex). Ryzen 7 is an 8-core processor series and thus that means 2 CCXs x 8 MB (L3) + 8 x 512 KB (L2) = 20 MB in total for L2 and L3 caches. These numbers sound familiar, eh (Intel)? Today is obviously not just about the processors, au contraire Mon ami, you are going to need a new motherboard as well of course.

Product Showcase

Alright, it's time for some photos. We received a Ryzen 7 1800X processor. As you can see, these are retail samples and thus not vanilla picked ones, retail versions. Once you have one in your hand you realize these are a little heavy. They should be with eight properly functioning and fast cores.

The Ryzen 7 1800X processor clocks in at a base-clock of 3.6 GHz, yet can Turbo to 4.0 GHz depending on load levels versus active threads; this eight core processor will be threaded to sixteen threads. Given it's an 8-core architecture, AMD is really nicely managing that clock frequency.

It's a powerful puppy, I'll give you that. The final sales price is just as powerful at just under 499 USD per flagship processor. Let me also remind you that the Ryzen 7 1700 costs only 349 USD and the 1700X 399 USD.

Yep, that really is a Noctua cooler with a black fan ;-)

It Takes Two: The Chipset(s)

AMD sold its chipset division I think two years ago already, a new processor series will need a new chipset as the motherboard needs an infrastructure as well. This has been outsourced and at launch you will see multiple product stacked motherboard chipsets. For Ryzen, you probably want a high-end / enthusiast class chipset with lots of features and tweaking options, this will be the X370 chipset that goes along with the launch of the processor series release. At launch there should be at least a dozen or so choices available. X370 will give home to the new socket AM4 and will provide high-frequency DDR4 memory support (as well as all other modern usual suspects like USB 3.1 gen 2, SATA Express, as well as NVMe protocol based M.2 support and surely PCI-Express Gen 3.0). At launch, over 82 motherboards will be released by several partners. Bear in mind that there will be multiple chipsets, for Socket AM4 namely the X370, B350, A320, X300 and A300.

RYZEN Processor Series

We’ll start off first with the naming. You all know the upcoming AMD processor as ZEN. That is a codename for the new architecture, and as such AMD figured they need a proper final name for the product series. However with ZEN pretty much sticking in everybody’s mind, AMD made the rather sensible decision to name Zen to something similar sounding? Yes, the Zen and thus Summit Ridge product series officially will be named AMD RYZEN, kind of extrapolated from "risen" I guess. Today we start off with the 8-core RYZEN processors. We’ve seen engineering samples at work, we have been testing ever since a few days ago and yes... it is looks good and probably could be as good as what Intel has to offer. In fact, let me call it impressive even. Compared to an 8-core Intel Core i7-6900K processor the RYZEN engineering sample is pretty darn fast alright. Ryzen will launch with three primary 8-core models with others like 6 and 4 cores to follow. When time passes there will be three tiers with the Ryzen 3, 5 and 7 denominators comparable to Core i3, i5 and i7 for the Ryzen product range. AMD in the first phase will launch with three SKUs, the AMD Ryzen R7 1700, AMD Ryzen R7 1700X and AMD Ryzen R7 1800X. You guys have already seen the models being announced, and we explained the numbers and prices as well. Let me first make clear that ALL Ryzen processor are unlocked, that’s Ryzen 3, 5 and 7. The motherboards need a chipset that is unlocked as well though, but the B250 and X370 series are covering all of that.

AMD Ryzen 7 1800X - 499 USD

AMD Ryzen R7 1800X is the flagship processor and it has 8 cores with 16 threads, in fact all Ryzen processors have this core/thread ratio. The Ryzen 7 1800X processor will get an impressive boost frequency of 4.00 GHz, the base-clock is 3.6 GHz base clock. Depending on your choice in cooling, XFR will kick in and bring it to 4.1 GHz, maybe even higher on a single thread. XFR (extended frequency range) by the way is a technology that uses hundreds of sensors inside the processor. If the registers on thermals and such are within certain thresholds it can further boost the turbo frequency above the default spec available. So it’ll give you a performance boost based on proper cooling. We’ll talk a little more about it later on in the article though. The X in the Ryzen 7 1800X refers to a better yielded processor (could tweak better), a higher base and boost frequency and yeah, simply is a binned processor (thus tested and selected from good to great). This processor has a terrifically rated 95 Watt TDP. A similar 8-core Intel CPU would cost you about 1,200 USD, the price for this flagship Ryzen R7 1800X processor is 499 USD/Euro ex VAT. This is an unlocked (multiplier) processor, in fact all Ryzen processors are unlocked.

AMD Ryzen 7 1700X - 399 USD

The next AMD Ryzen in line would be the R7 1700X, this dawg once again gets 8 cores and 16 threads but this time the turbo and base clock sit 200 MHz lower compared to the 1800X. But that means a turbo frequency of 3.80 GHz. Yes, this is pretty much the same processor, just with a lower base at 3.4 GHz and turbo frequency and yes, a lower price as you just shaved off 100 bucks.

AMD Ryzen 7 1700 - 329 USD

The lowest SKU AMD R7 is the Ryzen 1700, and actually I am the most excited about this product as it would be a terrific processor for gamers at a shocking price of just 329 USD. Again, you'll receive an 8 core and 16 threads processor. This time at a turbo frequency of 3.70 GHz and a base clock frequency set at 3.0 GHz. That lower base clock helps you with your energy consumption as a very notable attribute is that this processor is rated at a 65W TDP whereas the other two would be 95 Watt parts. Again, eight cores / 16 threads boosting to 3.7 GHz at 65 Watts for 329 USD. This might become one of the most popular processors ever.

So the above three processors will launch initially. All these processors will fit Socket AM4 and thus you can use the same motherboard. The AMD Ryzen 7 1700 will be bundled with a Wraith Spire 95W cooler. The other two are not bundled with a cooler. We’d recommend you to look at a nice LCS kit or some sort of cooling from Noctua, as a little extra cooling performance can do magic to your boost frequency.

Ryzen 5 Processors

There is more in the pipeline. In the second half of 2017 AMD is going to introduce four core Ryzen 3 processors. However, in the 2ndquarter of 2017 you will already see six-core / twelve thread parts. These will initially launch as the Ryzen 5 series. The Ryzen 5 1600X will thus be 6c/12t, yet it is going to be a spicy processor as we have been able to confirm the base and boost clock frequency already. That boost is 4.0 GHz with a seriously proper 3.6 GHz base clock frequency. The prices have not been confirmed just yet but we expect this SKU to hover in the 260 USD space. Another six core 12-threaded part will be the Ryzen 5 1500X. This processor will occupy the sub 250 USD space, again with pretty impressive clock frequencies, 3.5 GHz for the base clock and still a really proper 3.7 GHz boost clock. Again, the 6-core SKUs will be released in the second quarter of this year. Below I’ve compiled a chart overview of the processors that have been or are to be released. The greyed out ones are unconfirmed, yet an indication of what is to be released.

Processor model

Cores/Threads

L3 Cache

TDP

Base

Turbo

Unlocked

Price

AMD Ryzen 7 1800X 8/16 16 MB 95 W 3.6 GHz 4.0 GHz Yes $499 AMD Ryzen 7 1700X 8/16 16 MB 95 W 3.4 GHz 3.8 GHz Yes $399 AMD Ryzen 7 1700 8/16 16 MB 65 W 3.0 GHz 3.7 GHz Yes $349 AMD Ryzen 5 1600X 6/12 Release Q2 16 MB 95 W 3.6 GHz 4.0 GHz Yes $259 AMD Ryzen 5 1500X 6/12 Release Q2 16 MB 65 W 3.5 GHz 3.7 GHz Yes $229 AMD Ryzen 5 1400X 4/8 8 MB 65 W 3.5 GHz 3.9 GHz Yes $199 AMD Ryzen 5 1300 4/8 8 MB 65 W 3.2 GHz 3.5 GHz Yes $175 AMD Ryzen 3 1200X 4/4 8 MB 65 W 3.4 GHz 3.8 GHz Yes $149 AMD Ryzen 3 1100 4/4 8 MB 65 W 3.2 GHz 3.5 GHz Yes $129

In the above table you can see the launch SKUs as well as an overview of what to expect in the coming months processor wise, it is going to be a busy year with AMD processor reviews alright. You will have noticed that some models end with an X, while others do not. It remains simple, the X models are a little more special in the sense that they will have a higher base and boost clock frequency as well as an increased XFR range. We'll talk a little more about XFR (Extended Frequency Range) on the next page but basically look at it as a bit of an extra on top of the boost. Also, all X model processors are binned. This means that the processors are tested on ASIC quality and then sorted from good to better and often will clock higher on the XFR range and yes, X models could be / should be more easy to tweak as well.

20 MB L2+L3 Cache

The RYZEN caches, we already spilled the beans on that one but initially all we got was the number which is 20 MB (for an 8-core processor) for the L2 and L3 cache, and that matches what we have discussed numerous times.

The 8-core part with two four core CCU units aka Summit Ridge aka RYZEN in the end get a L1 data cache size of 32 KiB, a L1 instruction cache size of 64 KiB and then a L2 cache size of 512 KiB per core.

L1 8 x 32 Kb Data

L1 8 x 64 Kb Instruction

L2 8 x 512 Kbytes

L3 2 x 8 Mbytes L3

So that is 8 x 512 KB (L2) + 2 x 8 MB (L3) = 20 MB in total for caches, again one clustered Core Complex Unit holds four processor cores. The L2 and L3 caches are similar in size compared to the Intel Core i7-6900K. The processor has dual channel DDR4 support (up-to 3200MHz), AVX2, AES, FMA3, AMD-V SSE 4.1 and 4.2 instruction sets etc. The bus frequency is 100 MHz multiplied by whatever the processor fires off at it. Ryzen is built with a 14nm FinFET fab node, this greatly helps where AMD is with the performance and power consumption. For the transistor aficionados, the number is 4.90 Billion of them.

That is the money shot right there, eh?

CPU-Z Screenshots & System

And here we have CPU-Z screenshots of the Ryzen 7 processor seated, armed, ready and waiting in the motherboard, let's have a look. So, that's all looking alright. If interested, you can download CPU-Z here.

Power Consumption

In an IDLE state, a PC (motherboard / processor / GTX 1080 / memory / SSD) consumes roughly 50 Watts. This number depends and will vary per motherboard (added ICs / controllers / wifi / bluetooth) and PSU (efficiency). Keep in mind that we measure the ENTIRE PC, not just the processor's power consumption. Your average PC can differ from our numbers if you add optical drives, HDDs, soundcards etc.

    I want to make it very clear that power consumption measurements will differ per PC and setup. Your attached components use power but your motherboard can also have additional ICs installed like an audio controller, 3rd party chips, network controllers, extra SATA controllers, extra USB controllers, and so on. These parts all consume power, so these results are a subjective indication. Next to that, we stress all CPU cores 100% and thus show peak power consumption. Unless you transcode video with the right software your average power consumption will be much lower.

Overall stress/load temperatures are very nice with temps at the ~70 C marker peaks (with a simple heat-pipe based Noctua U12S SE AM4 cooler). These, of course, are default results and not tweaked. The processor idles at roughly 45 to 50 Degrees C. Again, we used the AMD review kit supplied Noctua cooler here for cooling. We also received a liquid cooling kit (Predator 240 from EK) which we will use in the overclocking segment. That unit keeps the cores chilled at roughly 65 Degrees C under stress and being tweaked. Overall we are very happy with the temperature results here.

Overclocking

With so many cores in the system we cannot resist overclocking. We're keeping things relatively simple. We need to take a couple of steps if we want to overclock. First tip, always invest in good hardware by the way (MOBO/PSU/Memory/Cooling), the cheaper motherboards often are not well tuned for enthusiast overclocking. Also get yourself a good power supply and proper processor cooling. Overclocking with any 8 or more core processor (doesn't matter if that is Intel or AMD) is far more difficult than you expect it to be. Both brands end in the 4.2, maybe 4.3 range, again that is similar with Intel processors as well.

A bit of a mess, but that's what an overclocking table should look like ;-) We use the new Ryzen compatatible EK Predator 240 here.

Overclocking 8-cores on a high clock frequency is a tough job, but can be managed relatively easily from the BIOS. You can also use AMD's software tool of course. The Ryzen 7 1800X has a base clock of 3.6 GHz and a boost frequency of 4.0 GHz. During our measurements by trial and error we found that at 1.375~1.425 Volts you will end up at roughly 4.1~4.2 GHz (that is on all eight cores!). And yes, that is not a lot over the default Turbo, but again this is 8-cores!

BIOS Overclocking

The Guru3D reader-base overclocks mostly from the BIOS to try and find the maximum stable limit. The generic overclock procedure for multiplier based overclocking is as follows:

Leave base clock (bus) for what it is right now (100 MHz)

Set the per core multiplier at a maximum of your liking:

Example 1: 100MHz x 42 = 4200 MHz

Example 2: 125MHz x 33 = 4125 MHz

Increase CPU voltage; though setting AUTO should work fine. Start at 1.350 volts and work your way upwards into a state of equilibrium in perf and cooling temps.

Make sure your processor is properly cooled as adding voltage = more heat

Save and Exit BIOS / uEFI

Now, with the ASUS motherboards you'll have tweaked options available at the press of a button. To set the processor to 4 GHz (all 8-cores) just go to the Extreme Tweaker menu and select your profile. You can now hit save and exit and you are done. Basically this just sets the multiplier at 40 and disables XFR etc. This setting was 100% stable.

Ryzen likes memory bandwidth, so with this dual-channel setup we really can recommend higher frequency memory like the 3000 MHz kit used. Most motherboard partners will label this as XMP, but since that is an Intel branded name for pre-defined SPD memory profiles just go to the Ai overclock tuner and select a D.O.C.P stage. Standard will activate the memory tweak at close to 3000 MHz.

Once you've applied this your DIMM voltage should have increased to 1.35 Volts (if not set it manually as we really can recommend that as stable voltage). You can also find the recommended DDR4 voltage on the sticker of your DIMM modules alongside all optimal timings. Also in DRAM timing control you will notice the most important memory timings preconfigured. If your memory should not be compatible, you can of course simply enter them manually as well and not use the D.O.C.P profile.

Now... have a peek at the screenshot below:

Here is an example at 4125 MHz

With the limited time available we tried some overclocking. We can boot into Windows and run a simple test at 4200 MHz just fine. Yet we need additional tweaking to be 100% stable and to be able to benchmark intensively. We dropped to 4.1 GHz on all eight cores. With the ASUS board we can advise you to leave CPU voltage at AUTO. With the EK PRedator 240 Liquid cooling kit we hover in the 65 Degrees C range under full load.

Our ease of overclocking tip: in our findings the more widespread, stable and acceptable overclock is 4.1 GHz on all 8 cores with voltage set to auto. This does apply to the ASUS HERO motherboard we used. That number seems to be the sweet spot that I'd like to recommend to you. Overclocking however always varies per system, PC, ASIC quality, cooling and sure... a bit of luck as well.

Power Consumption

Back to that tweak; adding that some extra voltage on the CPU for the OC also has an adverse effect on the overall energy consumption. Under stress and overclocked we all of a sudden use roughly 200 Watts under full processor load. That is power consumption for the whole PC measured at the wall socket side including a GeForce GTX 1080 in idle and the Predator 240 liquid cooling kit (yes pumps and fans eat power as well). All characteristics we observe, measure and see look pretty similar to the 8-core 6900K in terms of heat, power consumption and clock frequency wise.

The Final Words

It’s been a long time coming for AMD. The past year or four have been pretty dramatic for the company. They have been unable to keep up with market milking Intel in terms of per core performance, and then the economy collapsed as well. Ryzen, however, brings AMD back to the table, and they have a strong hand to deal. The introduced processors have been nothing short of impressive looking at them from any perspective. That will bring much needed competition back into the game. Even today at launch, AMD will introduce a processor that can compete with Intel’s 8-core 6900K processor for less than half the price of what Intel is asking. Not just that, Intel is charging an arm and a leg for their motherboard chipsets hence the artificially inflated high prices. There's where AMD will make a difference as well. It's all more fair. So thanks to AMD, that means 8-core is going mainstream, and that opens up a plethora of possibilities for developers and game designers if the market slowly moves to more cores that are properly fast as well. Thing is though, Intel remains the top dawg in this arena, they can answer to anything that AMD has to offer and they do have a little more flexibility in terms of clock frequencies. None the less, with the Ryzen series processors AMD offers close to equal raw processor performance and sometimes even faster performance, for far better prices.

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Source: AMD, guru3d

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