#and they will never get sick of the sky in the overworld

[aimseytv]

[butchsky]

>:).. elaborations below.. /paws

starborne jason firstly (also feel free to steal it i love spreading my silly autism propoganda):

he is, by FAR, the oldest of the tc group. chronologically, anyways. yellow supergiants range from a few thousand to *millions* of years old, and jason is on the lower end of that spectrum (so, think, like, 200,000). starborne age *much* slower than humans / earth hybrids do, though, so he looks and acts much closer to, like.. seventeen or eighteen. (he's also the shortest of the group.)

being a star, and a yellow supergiant specifically, he runs *hot.* like, badly so. like, people can't touch him for more than a few seconds without it hurting. they joke that you could probably fry an egg on him.

he also has, like, ZERO immune system, being from space and all. he gets sick really often, and while it doesn't always stick due to his body heat, sometimes it leads to some STRONG ass bacteria. fucker's like a petri dish. also, he uses a nasal cannula and an air filtration thing! tying into his health issues, he canNOT breath straight overworld air. (interestingly, though, he seems to have much less trouble breathing in the end.) it looks pretty normal, and he keeps the tank / filter in a portable bag.

seto:

this is also a lot of cultural infodump because ive spent years working on end hybrid lore. seto was a studying / practicing mage, working under royal alchemists. he wasn't a full-fledged mage *quite* yet, but he was well on his way.

he also has a natural penchant for being curious, and it gets him into a lot of trouble sometimes. this is how he ended up living in the overworld; he was sent off to gather materials for a spell, and got distracted and wandered off. he ended up getting caught in a rainstorm and losing the end portal, so he kind of just got stranded. he didn't speak ANY english at first, it took him a while to actually learn.

enderian and english are very, VERY different languages, and the overworld / english has a lot of things that seto had never even seen, much less enderian having words for them. there's a page in an old journal of his where he wrote down learning about the concept of the sun and the word for it, for example. his journals slowly transitioned from being in enderian to being in english, now he mostly just writes in enderian if its something personal or private.

he still busies himself as a mage now, but still not official and largely just doing whatever the hell he wants. very interested in culture, hybrids, etc, and has absolutely zero tact asking questions about it. (he had a field day with mitch.)

also, seto originally faced a *lot* of issues being in the overworld, due to many humans / overworlders (or "brightlanders") being suspicious or distrustful of enderians. he still kind of does sometimes, although being close with tc (and sky especially) has made people, uh. much less likely to voice those kinds of things. his name also isn't technically SETO. his name is ⏁☍⊬, pronounced like "(t)ss-ah-yo" (the s is a hissing sound), but people kept switching the sounds around and caling him seto so he just kinda went with it. (he doesn't mind it now, he's come to like it.)

also, enderian has three different words for animals of varying classifications; one for beasts, which are wild animals, and then ones for domesticated animals (i.e livestock) and pets. when seto first met jerome, he accidentally called jerome all three of these on varying occasions because enderian didn't have words / concepts for the kind of hybrid jerome is, so he just kind of saw him and went "oh! animal". jerome will not let him live it down now.

lavender axolotl mudkip is brought to you by the fact that blue axolotls don't actually exist irl, and one of the closest you can get is lavender. >:3

also wrt tags, bjd mitch is one of my favourite things ever. EVER. at first glance, he looks human! he does! until you look closer and you realize his skin looks like plastic and his eyes move oddly, and he doesn't make facial expressions, and his mouth doesn't *move* when he speaks-- yeah, he scared the FUCK out of the tc crew when they met. he knows he's a doll, but he doesn't know *why.* he doesn't have memories of "his" childhod, but his creator (dad) explained it away as amnesia from head trauma. (in actuality, the head trauma is what killed his real son, and it was just something he said to continue the fantasy.)

mitch, by creation, is meant to be around 21 years old. if we're going off the time he was *created,* so chronologically, then he would be five. (this makes him the "youngest" member, in the same way that starborne shit makes jason the oldest.) he lived in a cabin out in the woods with his 'dad', going on with life "as usual" after what he believed to be amnesia. there were no mirrors in the house, so mitch couldn't see himself, and see the things that made him, clearly, not human (and not the "real" one).

things got on great for that time, it only got "bad" after his 'dad' passed away. mitch himself was fine, physically; he didn't need to eat, or sleep, or anything of the sort. mentally, not so much, and the house itself fell into *horrible* disrepair. he knew *how* to fix things, but he just physically can't move his hands to have actually *fixed* them without his dad. at this time, he also fully believed that his dad was just.. out. jerome comes across the cabin about a year afterwards. he thinks its abandoned, so he goes to check it out and potentially loot it, but he runs into mitch while he's searching one of the bedrooms. (of course jerome gets the shit scared out of him, but they get past it.)

they end up becoming friends, and jerome visits him almost every day. he tries to broach the idea of mitch leaving, but he's insistent that he's "waiting for dad". it's not until jerome finds his dad's journal in a drawer that he figures out what's going on, and that mitch's 'dad' absolutely is *not* coming back.

(jerome convinces him eventually, saying that his dad wouldn't want him to be all alone with the house like this and no help, so "come with me, and we'll leave a note and i'll bring you back once he's home!")

of course, mitch knows by now that his dad's dead. he knows he's a doll, but he still doesn't know what happened to the "real" mitch. jerome refuses to *ever* tell him; he doesn't see a reason to do something like that to him. if mitch finds out on his own, sure, but jerome refuses to say it himself or let anyone else say it.

this got long as fuck so i can send solace lore in another ask if u want :heart:

i wanted to wait to reply to this when i wasnt so exhausted (ive been soo busy and low energy recently) but WOW. i am invested in all of this!! the planning and writing and world building- oh i am in love with it.

i have no other notes, honestly. (in my honest opinion, mitch and seto really are my favorites out of everything you've told me so far. wow! little doll mitch, im imagining it and am just.. obsessed. so so obsessed)

the world building for the end- ohh i love that. curious little seto. oughhh. ougghhh. puts my head in my hands. hunches over. grunts and groans.

but please feel free to share more, whenever you are willing! my ask box is always, always open. you do not need to ask to share anything with me, hehe

[izzymaekgaem]

IzzyCraft - Devlog 0

First off, let's start with an introduction.

Hey! Name's Isabel. I'm a Comp Sci student in her 20s living in Portugal. I've wanted to try making a Minecraft mod for a while now, and I decided that right now's a good a time as any to start. I wanna keep track of my progress by making one of these every now and then. I'm gonna try to keep this something that I do… every two weeks maybe? But I'm not gonna hold myself to any specific posting schedule for now. Keeps me from going insane.

So, what's this about?

This blog will be a development log of my attempt at making a Minecraft mod. It's something I've always been curious about trying, and I figured I could start learning instead of just sitting on my ass wondering what it's like. I have decided to try the Fabric API out, because it's the one I've spent the most time actually playing on, and I've never really had many stability issues with it. Since this is Minecraft, I will also have to learn more Java, which, coming from someone who learned Python first… is gonna take some getting used to.

I want this development log to serve as practice for any potential attempts at game development in the future, hence the blog name. I guess you could say that everyone reading this is part of my little experiment.

Basic Idea for the mod

The working title is "IzzyCraft", for no other reason than I think it rolls off the tongue well.

The end goal of the mod is to introduce a fantasy rpg flair to minecraft by adding a bunch of your traditional fantasy species to the game. They will replace villagers in their respective biomes, and the player will also be able to chose what species to play as, similar to the origins mod, but with more mechanical balance tailored for online play.

So far, these are my concepts for playable species:

Underground (Found in Cave biomes in the Overworld)

Dwarf:

Darkvision: You see better in the dark.

Size: You are noticeably shorter than the base game model, and can fit through 1.5 block tall gaps without crouching.

Unshakeable Stance: Knockback has less effect on you.

Sky sickness: If you spend more than one day without sleeping with a roof over your head, you will become Skysick. Weapons and tools will take longer to draw, and you will restore health slower. To cure Sky sickness, you must sleep with a roof over your head.

Dark Elf

Darkvision: You see better in the dark.

Size: You are noticeably taller than the base game model, and need spaces to be 2.4 blocks tall to be able to fit without crouching.

Iron stomach: consumables with harmful effects (poison potions, suspicious stew, rotten flesh, etc.) have a reduced effect on you. You can eat raw mushrooms, including nether wart.

Sky sickness: If you spend more than one day without sleeping with a roof over your head, you will become Skysick. Weapons and tools will take longer to draw, and you will restore health slower. To cure Sky sickness, you must sleep with a roof over your head.

Surface (Found in the surface of the Overworld)

Human:

Base player.

Wood Elf (Found in Jungles and Old Growth Taiga biomes):

Nimble: Weapons and tools have a slightly faster draw speed. You have a higher sprint speed.

Size: You are noticeably taller than the base game model, and need spaces to be 2.4 blocks tall to be able to fit without crouching.

Bark skin: Negative effects on throwable and lingering potions, as well as potion tipped arrows, have a reduced effect on you.

Fast metabolism: Your hunger bar decays faster.

High Elf (Found in Flower and Birch Forests):

Arcane: Level caps on the enchanter are lowered (can make higher enchants with less bookshelves).

Size: You are noticeably taller than the base game model, and need spaces to be 2.4 blocks tall to be able to fit without crouching.

Ward: Enchanted weapons deal slightly less damage to you.

Slow learner: Killed creatures drop less experience.

Catfolk (Found in Deserts and Mesas):

Agile: You have a higher jump height, and a faster sprint speed. You take less fall damage.

Size: You are the same size as the regular player.

Claws: Unarmed attacks deal slightly more damage.

Fast metabolism: Your hunger bar decays faster.

Halfling (Found in the Plains Biomes):

Sneaky: Weapons and tools have a slightly faster draw speed. You can walk without triggering skulk sensors.

Size: You are noticeably shorter than the base game model, and can fit through 1.5 block tall gaps without crouching.

Lucky: Your critical hits have a chance of dealing double damage.

Light build: You have less health.

Minotaur (Found in Savannas):

Charge: Your critical hits deal slightly more damage.

Size: You are noticeably taller than the base game model, and need spaces to be 2.5 blocks tall to be able to fit without crouching.

Bulky: you have slightly more health.

Horns: You can't wear helmets.

Nether

Piglin (Found in Crimson Forests and Nether Wastes):

Netherspawn: You spawn in the Nether.

Charge: Your critical hits deal slightly more damage.

Size: You are the same size as the regular player.

Piglin Reputation: You do not need to wear gold to keep other piglins from attacking you. Piglin brutes are not hostile to you, unless you attack them first.

Overworld sickness: If you spend more than one day without sleeping in the Nether you will become sick. Weapons and tools will take longer to draw, and you will restore health slower. To cure Overworld sickness, you must sleep in the Nether.

Tiefling (Found in Warped Forests and Basalt Deltas):

Netherspawn: You spawn in the Nether.

Borne of Fire: Fire enchantments deal slightly more damage.

Size: You are the same size as the regular player.

Lava skin: You are immune to fire damage (swimming in lava still damages you). You can stand on magma blocks without taking damage.

Nether Metabolism: Your hunger bar decays faster. You can eat nether wart, as well as crimson and warped fungus.

The End

Enderfolk (Found in the End Islands):

Enderman Reputation: You can stare at an Enderman without angering them. They are still hostile if you attack them.

Teleport: You can Teleport short distances without needing to use an ender pearl.

Size: You are noticeably taller than the base game model, and need spaces to be 2.5 blocks tall to be able to fit without crouching.

Silky hands: You can collect grass and leaf blocks without special tools.

Hydrophobic: Touching water damages you. This also applies to rain (but not snow).

[papermariosuggestion]

What are you hoping for from a new Paper Mario? What's your "golden ideal", I guess?

I could spend, like, years thinking of things I’d like to see in a Paper Mario game, but I’ll try to narrow it down. Here are some of the main things I’d really like to see:

☆ New partners (plural)

• Based on previously established Mario species, preferably “enemy” species, as “The circumstances of one’s birth are irrelevant; it is what you do with the gift of life that determines who you are.”

• Unusual, but believable, and perhaps even poignant, backstories and fully realized character arcs. I want to care about these characters because I’m invested in this world, its inhabitants, and those inhabitants’ personal successes and failures, not just because their design is so kawaii and/or their dialogue is so funny, though those things are a plus.

• Distinct personalities and opportunities to show those personalities off (through design, body language, dialogue, etc).

☆ RPG mechanics

• Built on the solid foundation established in Paper Mario (N64)

• Turn-based combat

• A leveling system where you get to choose which stat to increase

• Badges (Including superficial badges like the L Emblem and Attack FX badges)

• Something new, like being able to use two partners to perform a Bros.-Attack-like move, or maybe even stats specifically pertaining to your partners.

☆ New locations

• It’s a delicate balance. Locations should both feel like they could realistically exist in Mario’s world and feel like something we’ve never seen before. TTYD has some great examples of this (Rogueport, Boggly Woods, Twilight Town, etc). Super Paper Mario has some creative locations as well, but because it takes place in another dimension, not in the typical world that Mario inhabits, none of them really feel particularly “Mario-esque” in nature. They’re all a bit off-brand, so to speak.

• On a technical level, graphics are improving all of the time, but that doesn’t automatically lead to more intriguing and/or more visually satisfying designs. At it’s core, Mario is a fantasy franchise, an escape from reality, and the Paper Mario series is one of the few series in the franchise that really builds out- or at least used to really build out- its world, and that world was interesting because it was new and mysterious, it practically begged to be explored. Paper Mario games should show me something I can’t see in reality; I know what paper and cardboard and lemons and steaks look like, show me underground cities and palaces, show me sprawling gardens with talking flowers, show me a floating tourist trap in the sky. The biggest limit is your imagination, so let it run wild, and show me that, show me that Alice in Wonderland-like controlled chaos.

☆ An interconnected world and motivated backtracking

• No stage-selection maps. Even if the game is fairly linear, I don’t need to have that shoved in my face. I don’t want to feel like I’m working my way down a to-do list, glued to a track, I want to journey through the world and explore somewhat freely.

• No fast travel by default (maybe you unlock fast travel after beating an optional challenge like the Pit of 100 Trials)

• No pipes that take you right from the hub world to the chapter area; I wanna walk…

…and I want it to be through a believable, expansive, intricate world that changes as I progress through the game, a world I could see hundreds of times and never get sick of because its details are constantly in flux, and because those details are the kind that make it feel realistic and lived-in. I don’t want to be teleported from A to B, or confined on a path from A to B to C, I want to explore, I want to discover, I want to experience this world and to form an attachment to it. This alone would make backtracking more worthwhile, but…

• …another way to make backtracking even more enjoyable would be to add events that make walking into a game in and of itself, like having to follow a creature up in the trees, or having to get through a cursed area in Mirror Mode, or having to dodge and weave through falling rocks because there’s a huge earthquake destroying- and altering the actual geometry of- the area. Walking doesn’t have to be a chore for you to complete in order to get on with the game, and it shouldn’t be, it should be part of the game, just as engaging as anything else you’re involved in.

☆ Non-linear elements

• The game should still be fairly linear overall, because Paper Mario games are chapter-based stories with beginnings, middles, and ends, but having some say  in which chapter comes next, or which partner you meet, or even just which puzzle you solve next would give the player a stronger sense of agency. Story-driven games are at high-risk of making the player feel like they’re just along for the ride, and this would help to counteract that.

☆ Spin dashing

• Gotta go fast! Getting rid of spin dashing always felt like an odd choice to me. Characters like the Yoshi kid, Carrie, and Dashell kind of replaced it, in the sense that they allow you to move quickly, but being able to speed up without switching partners, as well as being able to spin attack and just to witness the utter chaos of Mario flinging himself across the screen again, would make backtracking and walking around in general less of a slog. It would also give you more agency in the overworld and serve as a nice callback to the original game.

☆ Free-moving NPCs & situational dialogue

• In past games, NPCs have been confined to certain paths and locations. They might move from chapter to chapter, but they would always stay in the same general area until you triggered an event that placed them somewhere new. I’d like to see characters wandering around, going in and out of buildings, visiting other locations, having private conversations with one another, getting into fights, buying and selling items at the shop, putting on different clothes, and doing just about anything else they would typically do in-universe. Obviously this would be huge challenge to program, but we’re talking about an ideal here, and anything in this general direction would be an improvement in my eyes. We already see a bit of this in the series, but I’d like to see even more.

• When NPCs say things like “Where are your manners, Mario? You shouldn’t climb on the table” and “Don’t be so careless. There are too many enjoyable things in the world to gamble with your life!” it makes it feel like they actually see what you’re doing and care about what you’re doing. Having NPCs respond to you differently because of where you’re standing, or what partner you have out, or what badges you’re wearing, and so on, makes them into more than just set decoration or a sign to read, it makes them people, or at least more person-like. Nintendo’s been pretty good about this in recent years, probably because technical improvements have made it easier than ever before, and I think it would be fitting for a series known for its world-building.

☆ Dynamic lighting design & a day/night system

• This is all about aesthetics because, as it turns out, visuals are pretty important in a video game. Paper Mario (N64) had some really interesting lighting design, notably in darker areas like the secret passage in Peach’s castle, and we haven’t really seen a lot of that since, despite having more advanced technology that would allow for advanced lighting.

• I’d like to see things like swinging chandeliers that cast beams of light, and cracks in the ceiling that light pours through, and mirrors/reflections that Mario uses to solve puzzles, and shadows that hint at secrets. Lighting is a huge part of shaping a world, and using it in a variety of different and meaningful ways just makes your world seem that much more complex and grounded.

• As for the day/night system, I am picturing a game that visually changes based on the actual time of day, kind of like Animal Crossing games do, but not a game that requires it to be a certain time of day for any gameplay purposes, not for the main quest, not for side-quests, and not even for easter eggs. All I want is for it to be bright when I play in the morning, orange when I play at sunset, and starry when I play at night. This also would add to the game’s replayability, as different chapters would look and feel different depending on what time of day it was when you played through them.

☆ Easter eggs that reference other games in the franchise

• I want it to be clear, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the Mario we see in Paper Mario games is the same Mario we see in other Mario games, not another person, and talking about the time he visited Isle Delfino or when Bowser fused with a sentient tennis racket would really drive that home.

• Make me really look for some, though. It’s cool to spot easter eggs in plain sight, but what’s really rewarding is having to dig for them. I don’t just wanna see Luigi standing in the background, I want to spot little inconsistencies and cracks in the walls and cryptograms spread throughout the world. Sure, the five-year-olds playing might not find them on their first playthrough, but when they’re fifteen and they remember that awesome Paper Mario game they played a decade ago, they won’t just be revisiting a world they’ve fully explored, they’ll be playing on a whole new level, figuratively speaking.

☆ amiibo Compatibility/functionality

• I’m not a big fan of DLC in general, as it’s often overpriced, but I do think amiibos are neat; using a real object to unlock something in a virtual world makes the virtual world feel just that much more alive to me, that much more like it’s a little world I can actually affect.

• The Paper Mario series never really got official merch, and while you do see a bit of your partners’ lives in the epilogue, it’s only a glimpse into their future, so getting little figurines of past partners that make them appear in the game, tell you about a recent adventure they had, and give you a unique badge based on their abilities/personalities/experiences, would be like a dream come true.

☆ Just be creative (I know it’s not that simple, but like, figure it out)

• Surprise me; throw in something inventive and revolutionary, like Wall Merging from A Link Between Worlds or The Aperture Science Handheld Portal Device from Portal.  There’s a whole universe of possibilities out there; please dream a little bigger than items disguised as a gameplay element and a hammer that fills in glaringly obvious gaps in paint. Nintendo’s always pushing the video game industry forward with their creative consoles. Use that, take whatever whacky control method they come up with next and integrate it like Super Paper Mario did- but hopefully even better than Super Paper Mario did- with the Wii remote.

• I see fans writing stories, and drawing characters, and making sprites, and working with all kinds of mediums to make art that knocks everything from recent “Paper Mario” games out of the park. Obviously Intelligent Systems can’t just steal those ideas, but I’d love to see them get on that wavelength and match that passion.

• Make a game that you’d never want to put down because you just can’t get enough of it, and don’t even bother with that “You’ve been playing for a while. You wanna take a break, grab a snack, chill out for a sec?” message; if I die playing your game because it’s truly that good, I see that as an absolute win. That’s legendary game design, my friend; aim to make a Paper Mario game so good it’s worth dying for, and if you fall short of that, hopefully you’ll still land on something pretty awesome.

[hidden-not-isolated]

Hidden, Not Isolated [C3]

Just staring.

Just staring.

Just staring.

All

Just 

Staring.

Continuously staring.

Staring.

Staring.

All staring.

Plop.

Feeling something wet land on his head, the instinctive backlash of slightly tucking his head into his shoulders in wince was barely acknowledged beyond the eternal nighttime atmosphere and unnatural trance that dragged him overwhelmed. After all, all he saw in that sprinkled window was the reflection of a very much despised bloke with cowardice; He may as well just try to treat himself with this curious gaze. He didn’t have a choice. Something paranormal was drawing him to the glass. Something. Just a few more moments and then he would tear away. What was the harm in proceeding to glare into his echo regardless? It was shuteye, right? No one would come out here and see him. No one would call the police. Hell, no one even technically knew he was in the area, right? There was nothing wrong with watching the glass and if it could move.

Plop.

Guess another drop knocked against his skull. 

Tap.

And another behind him. 

Pff.

And another against his scarf. 

Drizzle.

Rainshower.

Not even having enough time to stitch together any sort of opinion of the unmerciful droplets from the scattered fabrics that were his thoughts, what was once a soothing pitter-patter soundtrack gradually yet hastily unveiled its true colours, them being rapid droplets which remained to repeat the tapping racket whilst chilled liquid streamed from the threateningly shaded clouds overhead again...and again...and again...and again...and again...

Well, this was just great. 

As he gingerly escorted him and his shivering silhouette back to the nearby alleyway, the fact that the diversion overfalling him had charmed his eyes to tear away from the glass was pushed aside behind the eyes of cowardice alongside a brand-new rainfall brazenly marching his way. The first time the gloomy clouds decided to bombard him with a violent shower, he passed out; Even if a contributing factor were his stress levels, what were the chances he would get sick this time around? Actually, what were the chances he was already sick? It would explain the strange block in his throat and continuous fatigue amidst frequent coughing fits erupting from his scratched throat. No...no, surely he was fine. The universe wouldn't do that to him, right? 

God doesn’t play the dice.

Less dice and more empathy.

As he sat onto the newly wet alleyway floor, the storm was already unmercifully descending onto the town, it being significantly heavier than the first rainshower. If that was possible, I mean. On the flipside, what the hell were the odds? What was he, a black cat, bringing bad luck to everything and everyone in proximity? He brought misfortune to everything and everyone in his vicinity previously anyway. Why did he even deserve friends before, in fact? He didn’t. From anything and everything he had done injustice before, why would he deserve companions out of the rubble? Friendship is a privilege, not a right, no? A right is something you deserve to have, no matter the circumstances. A privilege is something you don’t need to have and can live without. Like friends. Or people in general. He could live without them.

He

could 

live

without

them.

In fact, he lived without them before. He did it before...! Couldn’t he just do that again and call it quits on his mission? He was initially really adamant about going on his quest but…Nothing worse could come from going back into hidden isolation, after all. He would be just fine. He was just fine…

...right?

Finally releasing an itching cough fit that had been rising in the back of his throat, he questioned if you could measure your own sanity without anybody else's input, no? He had, in fact, remained sane throughout the course of years-...It had been years, right? He really never had any way of recognizing what time it was; any sort of clock or watch went haywire in either of the alternative dimensions. Year by year didn't exactly seem to work parallel in the Overworld as it did past the skipping lines of cross-dimensions.

What time was it anyway?

Obviously, it was night, unmistakable by the darkness imprisoning sun, but how many hours had he burned through after he melted himself asleep exactly? When did he fall asleep? Just his luck. He positively didn’t get to see the sun nearly as many times as he would’ve liked. It just always seemed to be blackness around him. In fact, had he been in more nights than days? He couldn't tell. Why couldn’t he just outlive the teasing sun and instinctively doze away from the moon of mystery?

How long would the night last?

To be honest, if this town was just “so nice,” wouldn’t there be any sort of way to measure the passage of time outside? Has that never been a problem for others previously? Literally shivering in his boots, beyond the blurred haze of dim colours, his disoriented mind dragged his feet from the ground and ran away.

He ran away from his problems, I mean.

Yet again.

Evident by him tucking his knees into his chest, he geared up for the storm approaching by protectively enveloping his arms around his legs whilst the cold wind patrolling the night whirled around the atmosphere. If you think about it, even the worst of fiction has a happy ending, so his story would eventually be met with a peaceful conclusion if he just waited long enough. Again, it’s all about perseverance. Just keep waiting, Soren.

Just keep waiting, Soren.

CRASH.

And then,

Soren’s outcry went ignored.

It was submerged with a roar of thunder amidst a bursting screech of sudden illumination ripping apart the celestial sky. His instinctive flinch of violent startlement was discarded and only mimicked past another CRASH warningly breaking through the relatively quiet atmosphere with its crash echoing in and out of his eardrums, pursued by one more BOOM of thunder presently after.

The storm wasn’t going to be easy. 

It’s not much of a secret that people can get used to things without even realizing it. Character development, gradually adapting, taking what you have for granted, all that. He's been through worse; a simple thunderstorm wouldn't be so bad. Besides, it was only...day four? His memory was taken with the wind. Maybe three? Five? Either way, after all he had been through, it’d be pathetic to go down here. Besides, whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger, right? He could survive this storm past the hours ticking onwards. And with the hours ticking onwards, a sickeningly familiar pain in his stomach made yet another appearance.

Starvation. 

He was still fine.

If he couldn't find food sooner or later, maybe he could just take his chances with more Chorus Fruit--they never even teleported him that far, what was the big deal the first time? Besides, humans can go, he thinks, two weeks without food...? One…? Regardless, he was fine.

Though time moves on regardless of decisions, one thing that was unique to him was his patience that was turning out to be gradually burning to bits. That was evident by him experimentally brushing his eyes upwards naturally with a heart violently thumping amidst its complaints. It had been several hours, the day’s sun would emerge from the horizon. Of course, other humans would also be out and about but that would be his problem when he got there. Also, the rain and thunder definitely didn’t seem to go anywhere, even after an entire night but at least he could begin his journey to fix his sleeping schedule. Though...the sight of anyone at all would mainly be enough to give him panic attacks. But again: 

That was the problem when he got there.

His eyes expecting to see a glimpse of sunray cracking the overcast sky was met with a nasty surprise, as he was confronted by yet another BOOM instantaneously that flung him almost staggering over himself and fracturing his skull against the stone concrete if it wasn’t for his elbows to save the day.

What the hell?

It was still night? 

CRASH.

Violent flinch.

I mean, he knew the storm was still thundering loud, though he dismissed the crashes in the background, but it had been hours, right? He even made a conscious effort to refrain from looking towards the sky until now, why wouldn’t the universal concept of time just cooperate with one man’s brittle sanity? The clock was ticking on for all he knew to be hours! Sure, he didn’t have any way to verify the position of hands on the clock from his situation on the stormy alleyway but it should’ve been hours, no? 

Was he going insane? 

He dismissed the topic of insanity previously but was it official now?

Was the paranormal the problem or was he the problem?

CRASH. 

Startled, his survival-instinct forced his hands to clasp on the coldly wet pavement and froze in fear for a moment. He learned to maintain a habit of both sound-sensitive and touch-sensitive reflex. Loosening one of his delicate arms, he released his fingers to experimentally wander on auto-pilot to retrieve his scarf’s loose-end from the alleyway floor, for he was beginning to become rather cold with all this wind and rain...or a lot cold with all this wind and rain. He more or less just suffocated himself with his own thoughts for the past...hour? Was he wrong thinking it had been several hours? Or was he just going mental? Regardless, his active daydreaming habit singled him out too many times, this time he aimed to numb himself from reality. It worked. Most of the time anyway. When his cautious fingers did belatedly meet the fabric, Soren automatically recoiled in surprised revulsion, feeling the wetness of the cloth.

His life was far from predictable but was there really an excuse for being this jumpy? It obviously wasn’t a big deal, guess he never really acknowledged his own scarf much. It was just a part of his outfit for so long, he neglected its existence overall. At least not enough to actively take care of it. What’s that phrase that’s like: “when your life’s in danger, you don’t have to be fabulous?” That’s why he rubbed some of the soggy dirt off of his scarf without much hesitation--he never really had a reason to care especially about health, he was used to getting hurt...physically or mentally will stay ambitious. As he wrapped his scarf around his neck, he was warmer. Not warm. But warmer. 

Speaking of which,

What he wouldn’t do for a jacket.

But he brushed that off.

He did so many crazy things, why would he be resentful with a thunderstorm? He did so many crazy things, would a downpour really be his snapping point? He did so many crazy things, it would make him hypersensitive to fail to this. There was no need to be such a baby over some water falling from the clouds. Besides, it would be hypercritical to whine over starvation, homelessness, weakness, and whatever else he may be forgetting past the haze of disorient. After all, didn’t he technically do this to himself? If he had never come here, no lightning storms nor human beings would be any cause for concern. In fact, was he just...waiting for something interesting to happen...? Within this alleyway...? Waiting for courage? Waiting for essentials? Waiting for the Grim Reaper? What was he doing? If someone was to actually find him, they would just call the police and be arrested, no? He wouldn’t even have the energy to futilely try and run away upon sight. If anything, his nocturnal sleeping schedule was working in his favour, seeing as nobody would be out and about, chance of noticing him. Not to mention his Anthropophobia would obviously be pulsating uncontrollably if someone witnessed him passing time with heaving his life to hell. So realistically, if someone was to actually see him, help or otherwise, a panic attack would be all he’d be hit wi

CRASH.

- - -

Morning.

That was all he could make out past the fact that, though he didn’t want to, a brand-new day emerged from his rotten karma. Once his eyes instinctively cracked open, they were immediately bombarded with exhaustion beyond the actuality that he had woken from an insomniac slumber. Again. 

Also…

It was morning, right? 

Then why did the shading of morning seem darker than normal? And why did rather annoying beats of wet seem to just plunge from the sky again and again? 

Right. 

It was raining.

His thoughts in his mind were hazed. They were blurred. 

So much so, then and there, he couldn’t tell the difference between the clouded, light-headed lines of drizzle and downpour.

But it might as well be.

. . .

Splitting his eyelids apart, an orangish hue coated the area amidst overhead dark shadows he knew to be clouds past his fatigue. 

Day.

. . .

He

Couldn’t

Tell.

It

Was

Noon,

Right?

. . .

Sunset.

Probably.

. . .

Night.

Rain.

It was night.

And it was raining.

Not drizzling.

Straight up pouring.

He knew that.

He could know that.

Finally.

When he was finally able to keep his eyelids open for more than something of thirty seconds, the sun was already beginning to set upon the horizon, leaving him to wonder when he had fallen asleep...all times. He could hazily recollect making a deliberate decision to take a nap to try to shake off his heavy eyelids the first time around but the others? He didn’t mean to. Worth noting though, I’m talking, within the last two seconds of consciousness the first time around. Maybe that was him being impulsive initially. Maybe that was him looking out for himself initially. Besides, what harm could a short nap do? This. But in the morning, that was all he thought he needed. Sure, he didn’t have any kind of alarm clock obviously, but he thought he could’ve trusted himself. 

He couldn’t.

This wasn’t a nap. 

He wanted to fix his sleeping schedule since the darkness had a habit of scaring him but he was asleep for all he knew to be hours--that was called being straight up nocturnal. Not to mention the confusion of how many times exactly he fell asleep throughout the day. And woke up. That was the most confusing part. He woke up at the times of...morning and...day...? Sunset and noon…? He was really just guessing. He was really just naming stages of the day. Yeah, that was really what he was doing. He could easily be wrong. It was pointless. Like his presence. Since he had no sure-fire way of recognizing his awakenings, he should really just call it quits on understanding. He would probably just strain himself trying to remember anyway. 

And no,

He didn’t find any food that day either.

CRASH.

Even if the thunder was out of sight and he didn’t want to see something that would scare him half to death anyway, the feeling of it hitting somewhere behind him, him not being able to tell how close exactly the flash was to striking him, made it enough to make him violently flinch amidst immediate, uncontrollable trembling.

CRASH.

You know it’s bad when someone who hadn’t even been looking towards the sky knows it was bigger than that first bolt. Scarier than the first bolt. 

They say fear is one of the strongest emotions. They say fear can control someone. They say both. Who is “they” and what exactly are the other emotions they’re comparing it to? No idea. But maybe he just couldn’t remember. Fatigue can do that to you...not that he would recall it past the blur. Regardless, that’s why the sky just somehow seemed to use some kind of fear-mongering tactic to get Soren to worriedly stare at the threateningly pessimistic atmosphere, waiting for an invitation from hope whilst his only source of warmth remained to be his scarf...but mainly his forehead.

CRASH.

Was it just him or was the lightning striking more frequently tonight? And was the falling rain heavier tonight? Again, he really couldn’t tell. Was the first storm several nights ago just some kind of warm-up? Was it a warning he should’ve heeded? Probably. Just another thing he was doing wrong. He did everything wrong. Even if it was basic. On the second day, he couldn’t breathe. On the third day, he didn’t know where he was. On the fourth day, he was starving. On the fifth day, a thunderstorm made him pass out from fear. What was going to go wrong this day? His realization that if it wasn’t for him and his idiotic scheme of a plan, he wouldn’t be here, getting drenched in a cloudburst? He wouldn’t be here, wanted? But that didn’t even matter, even if he wasn’t wanted, he couldn’t talk to anyone to save his life. He was a failure. A coward. A liar. Whatever else he might be forgetting. Hell, if he knew what was in store for him years ago, he’d really just rather be born as something of a donkey, living out such uneventfully peaceful days. I mean, you know your life’s gone relatively downhill when you consider the possibility that a mule probably has a better life than you. Maybe he should just retreat to the End after all. Nothing worse could come from withdrawal; he was silently dying and nobody would help him...not that he’d want anyone’s help. He had no clue who he was supposed to be, considering he was replaced. He made so much effort to be something of a “great architect” and it had all been turned to dust with a new generation. Kind of similar to how he did so much to get hither but was he really going to call it quits now? Besides, he was still way too vulnerably weak to traverse the distance to the nearest End Portal. So, all in all, what alternative option did he have? He was still stranded in an alleyway with pointless emotions amidst pointless thoughts.

“Uh...is anybody there?”

His presence was pointless.

“Kill ya’ to say something?”

His existence was pointless.

“Hello~o~o?”

He was pointless.

“Woah!”

And then,

His heart stopped.

The words only barely slipped from his mouth.

“Magnus…?”

[ask-midnight-au]

When Death didn’t come back to Necropolis from his visit to the overworld, Luciel grew nervous and irritable. He paced the halls of the castle quickly, dismissing anyone who approached him regarding royal matters. When the bells of the cathedral rung signifying 12 AM, Luciel had enough. From the throne room he was standing in, the long corridor behind him lit by rows of blue torches on the cold, dark stone walls. The carpet was black and intimidating, with red crosses across from each-other. The throne itself was grand, fit for a king. The very throne Death himself had sat in for centuries. It had a red cushion, and was lined by obsidian. Just straight down the long corridor was the balcony, it was a distance away.

Luciel had turned away from the throne and ran, as fast as he could, towards the balcony. As he approached faster and faster, he muttered a spell to himself before he jumped off. The breeze felt cold and sharp against his face as he fell, his hair flailing. A pair of black demon wings had grown from his back, and he took flight, right before he would’ve hit the ground. He flew higher, up into the sky, where Necropolis was small and hardly visible aside from the bright lights and sign of people.

He had waved his hand and flew through a portal to the overworld that had opened. It was his duty to protect and serve his Majesty, no matter the cost. And he wasn’t going to lose the trust he had with Death.

------

“Is he awake yet?” “Not yet Love, stop being impatient.” A voice had snapped. “I’m sorry, I want to see him fall head over heels for you.” The other voice gushed.

Death had opened his eyes slowly, the light in the room bothering him. He had no idea where he was, or what he was doing here. The room was small, yet large enough to fit at least two people. The bed was large and had a canopy, there were dressers and tables against the wall, and next to him sat two people. One of them he recognized as Life, his enemy. The other was foreign to him. He sat up and put a hand to his head.

“Where am I?” He groaned. The light was in his face, it wasn’t like home.

“You’re at Staral, the kingdom in the sky.” Love explained with a smile.

Death couldn’t keep his eyes away from Life, Thomas Jefferson. There was just something about him Death couldn’t explain, was it his eyes, his hair that looked soft to the touch, or his soft smile? Death could feel the heat rise to his face. Love only smiled in satisfaction with the thought that the spell is working.

“The overworld?” Death struggled to think properly.

“Yes, you passed out.” Life tried to explain.

“I’m terribly sorry about the inconvenience.” Death shoved the covers off of him and looked down, sitting up.

Life just gave an alarmed expression and held him down with one hand.

“You should rest, you don’t look very well.” Life looked away.

“How could I be sick? I’m a god.” Death had insisted, trying to fight back against the urge to fight.

“Even gods get unwell sometimes.” Life only offered an apologetic smile before turning to Love.

“Go get Moon.” He had whispered to Love. “I’m on it, your majesty.” Love ran off and out of the room.

Silence filled the room, as Death was awkwardly staring at Life. A few minutes had passed before he decided to say something. “You know, you’re really hot.” Death had said in a tone that made it seem like he just figured something out. “W-Why would you say that?” Heat rose to Life’s face as he looked away.

“Well you’re a good guy, I guess.” Death questioned his own words.

“We’re supposed to be enemies.” Life had said coldly. “Why be enemies when we can be friends? Or even lovers?” Death’s eyes widened and he put a hand over his mouth. “Love’s spell must’ve gotten to you.” Life muttered to himself, though that didn’t help quiet the small part of his thoughts that said he should care about Death.

“Who-” Death started before the door slammed open, Love and Moon coming into the room.

“Ah! Moon! Thank you for coming at such a short notice!” Life had stood up and smiled at the shorter lady covered in a moon pattern.

“It’s the least I could do, your majesty. How can I assist you?” She bowed and stood up, never changing her neutral expression.

Life walked beside her and put a hand to the doorknob, closing the door behind the two.

“Please, put our guest to sleep.” He had asked Moon.

“As you wish.” Moon had walked towards the inquisitive Death and put her hand on his forehead, murmuring a spell. A small, blue moon laid itself on his forehead, and he fell asleep.

“When you want me to break the spell, let me know.” Moon had told Life before walking away.

He wasn’t going to wake up on his own without Moon to break the spell.

-

Luciel flew through the overworld sky with top speeds, possibly even faster than his majesty. He looked above the clouds until he could find the grand kingdom of Staral, where he believed Death was being held captive. When he did find it, he was more irritated and angry than ever. The inhabitants of the castle knew he was coming, and they prepared to greet him kindly.

As he landed, the welcomers approached him. “Welcome to Staral!” One of the welcomers flapped their pure white, feathered wings happily. “The kings would like to see you, if you’ll follow us this way!” The other exclaimed, opening the castle doors and guiding him to the throne room.

As they walked down the colorful corridors, Luciel was just about ready to fly away and call out to his majesty, awaiting an answer or a call for help. That thought was sent away as he was greeted by both Time and Life, sitting on their respective thrones with topiaries above them signifying which god they each were. Time looked quiet and neutral-faced. Life was glaring at him from his green colored throne. Luciel approached Life with a scowl.

“Where is Death.” Luciel had demanded from Life. “He’s sleeping in one of my various guest bedrooms. Dare to spend an eternity going through them all to look for him?” Life had smirked. “Life, there’s nothing he can do. Show him to his master.” Time looked at him with an air of authority. Despite them both being gods, Time was far more powerful.

“Fine, you’re no fun Time.” Life had sighed and got up from his throne.

Life had lead Luciel through corridor after corridor, turning left and right, until they approached a door. As Life had opened it, Luciel was given the sight of Death, his majesty, asleep in the canopy bed, peacefully snoring away. Luciel ran towards him and shook him, once, twice, three times, but Death wouldn’t wake up.

“What did you do to him?!” Luciel yelled at Life.

“I didn’t do anything. It was Time’s assistant, Moon, who put him into a sleep.” Life pointed towards the small blue moon on Death’s forehead. “How do I wake him up.” Luciel was distraught, shaking Death with all his strength. “You could try dispelling it, but it wouldn’t work. You’d have to find Moon.” Life had only shrugged and left Luciel and Death to themselves.

Luciel cursed and put his hand over the blue moon on Death’s forehead. His hand glowed as he muttered words trying to dispel the magic keeping Death in a coma. The blue moon smashed as he uttered the last few words, and Death groaned in response. He opened one eye and Luciel fell backwards in shock. “Your majesty! Are you alright?” Luciel immediately got up and checked on Death, making sure he was in top condition.

“I’m fine, Luciel. What are you doing here?” Death had asked him, getting out of bed and standing weakly. Luciel put Death’s arm over his shoulder and held Death up. “It’s my job to keep you safe, your majesty. I hope my performance today was good enough for you.” Luciel had explained, guiding Death to the balcony and carrying him into the sky and through the portal back to Necropolis.

“I’m thankful you had come to rescue me, but I miss Life.” Death looked down sadly.

“You’ll see him again.” Luciel assured as they landed on the dark castle’s balcony.

“Are you sure?” Death had asked for clarification. “Promise.” Luciel nodded. “Thanks, can you take me to my bed now? I’m tired.” Death had yawned. “Of course your majesty.”

-

When Life came back to check on the two, both Luciel and Death were gone. The emptiness that made its way into his heart as a result saddened him. Love came around the corner to assist in helping him take in the sad news. “They got away.” She stated. “They did.” Life looked down.

“Well, no matter. We can always go to them.” Love had suggested.

“You’re right.” Life had looked up and began to run down the corridors and out to the courtyard. Love followed closely behind. “Well, what are we waiting for?” Love had asked him, one hand on her hip.

“Let’s go.” Life had waved his hand like he saw Luciel do all those days ago during their first encounter, and a portal to Necropolis opened up.

The two had walked in and found themselves in the center of the city, near the grand cathedral, surrounded by people of all ages and heights.

“Be careful Love, this is unknown territory.” Life had murmured to Love.

“I know, let’s have some fun.” Love smirked.

They began to wander, waiting for the moment to infiltrate the castle, and to find Life’s missing love.

[accidentally-logince]

Guardian Angel - Chapter 3

Summary: Virgil, sick of always dying and being resurrected again, decides to finally work out a way to end it for good. The only problem- he left Patton alone and depressed. Virgil makes it his goal to keep Patton alive until the time comes for him to join Virgil in the land of the dead.

If you missed: Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Warnings: Suicide mention, crying, minor mention of eating disorder

(If there any more, please tell me!)

Word Count: 1.8k

Pairings: Royality, eventual Moxiety

---

Virgil

---

The bus driver snitched.

Based on the evidence given—what the driver saw, the time, the circumstances—they figured out that it was suicide. They even looked for a note. There wasn't one, of course. But then, they started questioning my friends. Well, and Demitri.

The asshole himself sits uninterested in the office chair, one leg crossed over the other, his eyes wandering around as if he'd rather be anywhere else. I lean on the wall to listen; the information might be interesting. 

"Did you notice anything off about his behaviour in the weeks prior to his death?"

Demitri huffs. If you wanted, you could play it up just a little more, I think. "I don't know. I never really talked to him because I wanted to. He was just there. If we're being honest—" Oh, ha ha, Mister Deceit over here, "—he was kind of a wimp." My wings give an irritated flap at that, but because I'm used to it from him, it's easier to blow off. Doesn't make me hate him any less, though.

"So he wouldn't have told you anything about what he was planning?" 

"No. We hated each other. I really don't think I can make that more clear. He acted like he thought he was so much better than me." Oh, that's just gold. "Listen, can you just call in one of the others? I'm bored, and I have no information."

The officer sighs. "We can move on for now. But you must be prepared if you're questioned again in the future." She drags her pen down her notepad and then taps it. "Can you bring Logan Crofter in as you leave?"

"Yeah, sure," Dee says, pushing himself to his feet. A smile breaks out on his lips as he leaves. He just flicks Logan's glasses, saying, "you're up."

Logan fixes his now askew glasses and stands up. None of them had been told exactly why they'd been called. All they know is that they're being questioned. Until they walk in and sit down, they don't know what about. I don't know if I like that better or worse than just telling them outright before they came. Patton looks a little stressed, but not excessively upset, though, which is a bonus.

As he walks into the office, Logan is tucked into himself. Giving the officer a small nod, he sits down and awkwardly places his hands in his lap, gaze wandering to his curled fingers. He was never good at eye contact anyway. 

"Mr. Crofter," the officer says. Logan flinches, and his face falls just slightly more.

"Good afternoon, ma'am."

The officer goes about carefully explaining exactly why Logan is actually here. He actually lifts his eyes to meet hers, almost as if silently begging her to say she's lying. I can tell how hard he's trying to keep himself from crying. 

"I didn't realize that he was... going through that," Logan whispers. I can hear the quiver in his voice, even at the low volume. I step forward and place my hand on his shoulder. He moves up into my phantom touch. I don't know if I'm cold or warm, but just the distant contact seems to relax him just the littlest bit.

"So you hadn't noticed any significant changes in his behaviour?"

Logan bites his lip. "I didn't. He always acted so happy. It was always him who would cheer us up." Then, his eyes drop back to his shoes, and he lifts a hand to lay on his arm, right near where my hand sits on his shoulder. I shift so that my fingers overlap with his. He crumples when he tries to say something else. "I'm sorry, I-I... Can I come back another time?"

They definitely should have told them before they got here. I kneel in front of Logan, reaching up to wipe tears from his cheeks. He blinks at my touch, which I'm starting to understand has a sort of soothing effect to people in the overworld.

The officer nods, dismissing him. She's starting to understand her error too. "Send in the last two, okay?" she asks. As Logan turns to leave, she brings her fist to her mouth, thinking. I reach out and brush Logan's arms with one wing as he steps through the doorway. He tells the other to come inside, and then keeps walking with hardly a glance back.

---

Patton and Roman hadn't been questioned. The officer, learning from the error of her ways, only told them the news, leaving the questioning for a later date. Patton had reacted dismally, collapsing into himself and sobbing into Roman's chest as his boyfriend rubbed his back reassuringly. Roman looked more reserved, but I'm sure that was for Patton's sake, because his expression was strained the entire time they were there, and his reassuring smile was forced on the drive to Patton's house.

When he got home, Patton didn't wait before making a beeline straight for the stairs, looking drained as he crawled onto his bed. All his tears had already run out, and he just sat, tucked into himself as he shivered. I sat with him for awhile, until he finally went to sleep—without accepting his mom's offer for dinner. I hardly have time to worry if he's going to stop eating again when a little light shoots into the air above his head.

It doesn't do anything. Just hovers there, right over Patton. I lift a finger and poke at it, and when I connect with it, it expands ever so slightly, showing a grainy image of a grassy hill. I reach out and press it to my palm, and it grows bigger yet, until it's matched the height of my hand, heel to the tip of my middle finger.

I can see Patton inside when I squint. He's wandering through the field; the grass is up to his hips, and he runs his fingers through it as he walks, staring bewildered at the sky. Is this his dream? I lean forward to see better, and the light grows bigger again, this time to the size of my torso. I reach out, and my arm moves through it—no, inside it. 

After a few seconds of contemplation, I lift myself up into the air, and the dream portal grows to accommodate my size as I fly through. I have to shield my eyes for a few second because it's so much brighter now that I'm actually inside. The dream is warm, ignoring the continuity of the real world. I guess it doesn't have to make sense.

A run-down shed sits on top of the hill, and I soar down to land next to it. The wood is splintery and extremely dry when I press my fingers to it. If it weren't for the tall grass, I'd say it never rains around here. 

Okay, again, you're trying to analyze the logistics of a dream, I tell myself. 

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Patton turn around. Instinctively, I swiftly turn the corner. I don't know what compelled me to hide from him, but a growing feeling of dread keeps me from revealing myself. What would happen if he did see me in his dream? What would he think in the overworld? Would it make him feel better or worse? 

As if sensing my turmoil, the dream portal reappears as a tiny dot in front of me. I press my hand against it and fly through.

---

Patton

---

I could have sworn I saw a wing.

Maybe it was my eyes playing tricks on me, but it looked like there were feathers moving around the wood of the shed. I stare for a few seconds and nothing happens. No movement, no sound. My fingers move absentmindedly through the grass at my sides, enjoying the soft feeling.

This place makes me feel... happy. Distantly, I know its not real. But I decide to pretend, for now. An overwhelming calm has enveloped me, and I just want to bask in it for one more moment...

And then the moment is gone.

My alarm clock wakes me from my sleep. I don't even know why it was set, but I trudge across the room and turn it off. For good measure, I even tug the cord from the socket. I haven't been using the clock, it's not like I've been going to school. Tears force their way into my eyes, and I shove the heels of my hands into them, frustrated with myself. It was a dream. It was going to end anyways.

I just stand at my dresser for a few minutes, in a dazed state of half-sleep. I start to think that maybe I can slip back into the dream, but quickly will the thought away and lean down to open my drawer, pulling on a hoodie. The alarm had gone off at four am. I decide I'm not getting back to sleep and instead take a walk, hoping I can clear my head. 

It really has been dreadful the past couple weeks. By not going to school, I'm subjecting myself to hours and hours of time where I have nothing at all to do. My friends can't even visit, because they're actually going to school. I don't know how easily I could take it, especially after I just learned what happened to Virgil, but the aspect of another day spent on the couch, flicking through the channels to find something that I won't even watch—

I didn't know I was going to Roman's house. My feet brought me here by their own volition. An overwhelming urge to feel his arms around me has me moving to the door. He told me I could come in without knocking, especially if it's this early. I don't want to wake up his parents, so I press my spare key into the lock and open the door quietly.

The door to his room is cracked open, as usual, and I slide in, shutting it again when I'm inside. The single strand of light from the dimly lit hallway leads to the foot of his bed, and I follow it, carefully pressing my fingers onto Roman's forehead. 

His eyes flutter open, and he recognizes the pressure, shifting so that there's room on the bed for me. Wordlessly, we readjust ourselves until we're comfortable, his arms wrapped around me—just like I'd wanted—and my head pressed just under his chin. I curl my fingers in the fabric of his sleep shirt.

"I'm gonna try school again tomorrow." I don't know why that's the first thing that comes out of my mouth, but I can feel Roman smiling.

"That's wonderful," he whispers. "Because I missed you." He moves his head to press a soft kiss to my forehead, and I huddle closer into him. 

We don't say anything else. I find it much easier to fall asleep with him nearby.

I don't go back to my dream.

---

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[the-gamechangers]

The Ore Cave

Once Rookie was released from the nursery, she wondered where to go. Someone seemed to have thought of this, however. There was another enderman waiting for her just outside.

“Hello.” She said pleasantly. “My name is Egg. I’ll show you around.”

Rookie stared at a point on the wall lined with emeralds. “Rurgle.”

Egg smiled. “You will get the hang of language. For now, this is the Ender Village. We made our home in this ore cavern when we came to the Overworld. Water kills us. We did not know when we came here the possibility that the Overworld has a specific weather pattern that dumps water from the sky.”

All around them was an enormous cavern. The walls and floors themselves were covered in thick veins of all sorts of ores. Light came from what appeared to be glowing rivers of lava tucked behind huge panels of glass. In the bigger portion of the cavern, there was one fixture in the ceiling that was particularly confusing- a huge, black hole ringed by glowing yellow lanterns. Rookie couldn’t see anything past it. Was it nighttime?

“The Void is the opening to the surface. The Overworld has many resources dependent on water and light. Water kills us. We cannot have these things down here. We must send traders to the surface for these things. We can see if it is raining through the end of the void.” Egg explained. 

Rookie gurgled in response. She hoped Egg knew that it meant she understood.

There were buildings made of any material imaginable- stones of every color, wood, thick blocks of concrete. There was a building with all sorts of books in it, an enormous park of purple trees, and behind it an enormous building with a huge purple cross over the door. A few stalls dotted the park selling all sorts of goods. 

Egg watched Rookie’s face, and seeing that Rookie was getting confused, stopped. “These Chorus trees are very important. They come from the End. We come from the End. They were carried from the end to the Nether. They were carried from the Nether to the Overworld. That green building is the library. The schools are over there. That building with the cross is the hospital. You go there if you get wet. You also bring pets there if they get sick.”

In one corner, tucked behind everything else, there was a huge white building with an enderman’s face over the door. It nearly scraped the ceiling of the cavern. Rookie could see a glowing tree peering up over the top. She gurgled a small questioning noise.

“That is the Temple of Research.” Egg said. “Water kills us. We wish water would not kill us. We are researching a spell to make water not kill us. We are not successful yet.”

Rookie was interested. 

Directly behind the nursery was a stretch of land that was not stone, but dirt and grass. All sorts of plants grew on it- Assorted trees, carrots, potatoes, mushrooms, and flowers grew where there was space. There was a patch of fungi in the middle which appeared to be on a different kind of soil. Above it, seemingly floating, was a smaller slab of land with several buildings on top.

“Shrooms runs the farm.” Egg pointed. “We grow these crops for the good of enderkind.  We farm mobs on top. The most is food. Some are resources. Some are companions. You will learn the differences. The nether wart is for potions.”

Behind it all, were rows and rows and rows of obsidian huts. Most had some kind of pen or cage on top. Some had small farms on top. Some had absolutely nothing on top.

“That is where we live. You will get a home in due time. You will decorate it however you wish.” Egg said. “Come. You will go to the school.”

The other enderchildren were gathered in front of the big school. Most were eating chorus fruits with glee. Egg produced one from somewhere and gave it to Rookie. “I meant to give you this.” 

Rookie took it, nibbling the fruit nervously. It tasted sweet, then turned sour. Rookie decided she never wanted to eat anything else. “Huoh.” She murmured.

“You will do well.” Egg said. Then she vanished with a quiet vwoop.

Another enderman stepped into the doorway of the School. “Hello. I am Swoop. I am the instructor of speech. Follow me.”

Swoop led the enderchildren into the school, and class was officially in session.

[asknlarchivist]

Dear Miraka,

Remember how you told me I should be hanging out with friends more? I finally took your advice to heart and decided to convince Orpheus to come out with me on this trip. I’m sorry you got sick and couldn’t come along this time, I know how much you were really looking forward to it and all, but thank you for taking care of the children again while I’m away - you know how I always appreciate that. At the very least we got some decent photos to show you all when I get back. Oh, but you’ll never guess what happened on the way there, I don’t think I’ll ever let Orph live this one down!

So we managed to get to the site by around noon and...

I love rain. Truly I am blessed to have respawned as an enderman who can touch water. I love the way it sounds, the way it smells, the chill it gives me when it hits my scales and trickles down my body... ever since I was little I’ve always been utterly fascinated by the magic water that falls from the sky. Of course, I could still do without the lightning and loud thunder that sometimes accompanies a good storm. Like all sudden loud noises thunder has the unfortunate tendency to set off my PTSD from time to time.

Luckily it wasn’t a big stormy rain today, so I felt safe enough. Standing there on the hillside I took a deep inhale: wet soil and pine. Nothing compares to that rainy forest smell. It was an addictive, arousing fragrance, heavy with earthy scent and humidity that threatened to lure me back down into the shadow of the woods I just came from. I was born and raised in these parts, the Extreme Hills biome; this was my country, and I knew the terrain well. As such I was in high spirits right now and felt like nothing could faze me. Didn’t even mind the rain staining my poncho. Now to see if the forecast for this area would hold true...

A deep grumble at my side reminded me that for once I wasn’t trekking solo. Ah yes. My dear friend Orpheus the cave spider. A recluse like myself with far less thirst for adventure. And on top of that, much less love of the current weather. Could you blame him? All that fur was keeping him dry for now, sure, but at the same time his salvation was proving his doom because the water was sticking to him and collecting and probably already starting to seep deeper into rapidly drenching fluff. Needless to say he was pretty miserable.

“At the risk of sounding cliché, are we there yet?” he asked me without turning my way. Too busy glaring at the sky.

“I guess,” I answered casually as I pretended not to take heed of his discomfort. “This seems like a pretty good spot. Not a lot of treeline blocking the view - no shade too close nearby for aggressive mobs to spawn in... yeah, this’ll do nicely.”

“Great, can we please find some shelter already then? It’s cold and I’m getting soaked.”

I snickered at him. Walking sponge out here he was. “Alright, let’s find us a cave or something. I could do with lunch too. You?”

The mention of food perked him up somewhat and I had my answer. We’d been walking at least two days now. After half a century at this I could handle the journey easily, but Orpheus was a man... er... a spider... a being who had lived alone underground for literally as long as he could remember, ever since a series of events drove him from his original homeland and he suffered amnesia not too long after. As much as I was amused by his complaints and maybe a bit annoyed at the numerous rest stops we had to make along the way, I had to take pity on the guy; the brightness of daylight was surely causing him constant headaches if nothing else. And he wasn’t used to walking this far, let alone over the various types of terrain one encounters in this part of Overworld. When we hit snow passing through an Ice Plains biome I had to all but drag his big spider backside through it once the initial novelty wore off. Not because of the cold - well, not only because of it... more because he kept sinking hip-deep into the stuff the whole way.

But somehow he endured this long. And at this point in time we had finally reached journey’s end. Tonight he would be rewarded for his efforts... I silently prayed he’d like the surprise I set up for him. More than once he had asked me where we were going and why and when we’d be headed back home. All I told him was that it was something special Mira and I had planned months ahead of time on going to see. Poppy and Faith were still too young to make the trip this year so we were going to leave them behind with their godmother Wily and her mod Coati. But then the winter air got to Miraka and she was bedridden a scant few days before we were set to head out. It would be disastrous for her to go now when she needed so badly to keep indoors and recover. I honestly wanted to stay home with her - if she was gonna’ miss out then I would too, I would not have minded in the least. But my stubborn mod, she insisted I go anyway.

It wouldn’t be any fun without her, I told her. Then she asked me why not bring somebody else along? But who? It wasn’t like I had many really close friends who could spare the time last-minute. Well... except for one. He was perhaps closest of all my friends, maybe even my best friend. He almost always spared the time for me...

And that was how, days later, I found myself like this... In this hole in the rock with a griping cave spider morph. Boy was I gonna’ milk this for all it was worth.

“Lookin’ a little wet there, huh Orph old boy? I’m really loving this whole grunge thing you got going on, so edgy.”

“Shut up. You know this is all your fault. You were taking your time on purpose weren’t you.”

I shrugged without bothering to deny it. “Hey, one should always take the time to savor their surroundings while traveling, no?”

“Not while they’re getting rained on. Come on, it’s Winter. That’s just asking for flu to set in.”

“Why Orpheus, I had no idea you were so conscientious about personal health!”

“Yeah well, I’m also having to rely on you to take us back when this is all over. And we both know you can’t teleport when you’re too sick to even stand.”

“Thanks for doing the laundry, by the way.”

“Hmph.”

He did have a point. We walked here on foot because we were both worried as to how well Orpheus would be able to handle ender-blinking. And if he was going to get nauseous I wasn’t about to subject him to that sort of suffering more than absolutely necessary. That would’ve been cruel. No, the plan from the start had been decided on unanimously: walk to our destination, then teleport on the way back so we could return home as quickly and safely as possible before the frost week arrived. I would’ve preferred walking back if I could help it, however. Savor the scenery, savor the journey. Perhaps my comrade would be willing to discuss the matter later?

“How long do you think it’ll keep raining?” He seemed more at ease being in the safety of our little hollow but still looked at the sky in annoyance like it was mocking him. Knowing his luck it probably was.

“Hate to break it to you but I’m afraid we’re stuck here the rest of the day. It’s not supposed to stop until this evening, but should at least clear up enough tonight to see the stars. You... you like stars, right?”

Orpheus glanced out of the corner of all eight of his eyes at me. He looked suspicious almost, and for a moment I was afraid I had given too much away about the surprise. But he huffed and cleared his throat, then settled down against the cave wall opposite me. “I suppose. Yes. I like stars...”

“When was the last time you went stargazing?”

“Last time I went hunting. I hunt at night you know, so I see the stars all the time.”

I looked out at the rain again as silence set in between us. It wasn’t all that uncomfortable, though, not for me. I felt at ease even with my clothes soaked through (though I would’ve probably gotten hypothermia had it not been for the fire). Some days Orpheus was more conversational than others but it was fine. As far as I knew I was his only friend besides his own mod Seffiron. I understood; he wasn’t used to having somebody to talk to. At least I had my children, my family - Orpheus had had nobody for who knows how long... well, until now. He sort of needed to... ease into the whole interacting-with-other-people thing.

“Are you cold?” I asked him.

He actually snarled softly. “I’m freezing.”

“Sit by the fire then, you dingus, didn’t you just say you were worried about catching death of pneumonia?”

“That was the flu, and I am sitting by it.”

“You’re three whole feet further away from it than I am.”

“It’s plenty warm over here.”

“Says Mr. Freezing. Come on, come sit by me, huh? ... Or is it really that you’re just afraid of catching fire?” That got me a ruby-tinged eyeroll. Four pairs of it. I snickered at him. “Dear sweet arachnid companion, mine, you must be so mad at me right now for dragging you out in the middle of nowhere like this.”

His face suddenly softened as he turned to look at me. “I’m not mad at you.” I tilted my head at him curiously and didn’t have to wait long for him to elaborate on that for me. “I could never be mad at you. Not really. You’ve never been malicious towards me. Sure, you bug me with your constant teasing but you’re not really trying to be mean about it.”

“Ehh, you say it’s kindness when really it’s only pity - you’re just too easy a target.” That earned me a wet slap in the face by my own poncho. Even while my ears were at the moment filled with the sound of my indignant sputtering I could still hear that jerk smirking.

“Target that,” he quipped smugly. Aha. Once again I had managed to unearth the playful side of him. Success! It would get his mind off of being grumpy over the rain at least.

---

For the rest of the day we killed time however we could. We chatted, ate a few tidbits here and there, even scratched a few rounds of Hangman on the cave walls when the boredom got to be too much. At one point Orpheus tried to take a nap but his fur was still cold and damp, preventing him from getting any real rest. So, he eventually gave up on sleep altogether to dry off by the fire. If I thought the rain made his fur stick out more than usual, I was genuinely shocked by how ragged it got after the water fully evaporated. 

“My GOD, you are fluffy.” It was all I could do to keep from bursting out laughing. He reminded me of a poofy kitten. A very startled poofy kitten. With big fangs. He was... so adorable. Ohhh, but he would kill me in a heartbeat if I had said that out loud to his face.

The thing about Orpheus is that while he’s got twice as many arms as I do, his fingers just aren’t that great at combing and brushing. More often than not his sad attempts would leave patches of fur spiky when it dried. Now, while I obviously didn’t own a brush, my fingers were just the right size (and number of digits of course) for such a task... What kind of friend wouldn’t offer to lend a hand? I admit I had my ulterior motives for doing so, too; I had on more than one occasion confessed to Seffiron about my guilty pleasure of feeling all that plushness in my hands. When it’s groomed correctly Orpheus’ fur is nothing short of luxurious - think polyester blanket, one of those thick silky-textured ones. It’s great.

“You’re pouting,” I observed. To be fair it hadn’t taken much convincing at all to let me do this for him; he indulged me this sort of thing all the time, it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary where I was concerned. He had long since gotten used to my brand of friendliness. So why was he still upset? “Is this bothering you? We can stop if you want.” It was a full minute of stubborn silence where he refused to answer me on that. Maybe he was having trouble deciding.

“... Spider sourpuuuusss~”

“I’m itchy, be quiet.” Weak excuse. He was sore about my calling him fluffy. Like I called it earlier, he was far too easy.

“Then here, lemme’ scratch that itch for you,” I said, raking my claws in lightly. I still believed him on being itchy. I had seen firsthand how murderous the urges made him in the heat of Summer. “Anything you want, I am yours to command.”

“You’re just like your mod, always babying me.”

“Aw you like it. Besides, somebody’s gotta’ help you untangle your pelt now and then, that’s what friends are for.” With no more objections from him I continued without another word. We went on like this for a good while longer until it was so dark out we could no longer see the landscape (the rain had stopped by now but it was still overcast) and all was eerily quiet save for the crackling fire. Nothing but the two of us, removed from all manner of civilization for hundreds of miles in every direction, spending a peaceful evening in each other’s company. I was dragging it out, savoring the contact of fur between my fingers as much as I could, for as long as I could... One of these days Orpheus was gonna’ accuse me of being touch-starved. But it wasn’t like he wasn’t enjoying himself, either. He even started purring on me once I worked my way up to his jawline and around his mandibles... big puppy. I’m glad he’s come to trust me enough to where he can feel safe around me. Emotionally safe... if we were to ever find ourselves caught in a fight against a bunch of undead mobs, I could always rely on Orph to get us out of that scrape no problem. Scaling rock walls all day and hunting large prey all night has given him a terrifying amount of physical strength - pray you never end up on the receiving end of it. But when it comes to being able to talk to someone, to come to the point where several times he’s confided in me his deepest fears and told me about his most terrifying nightmares that have plagued him for years on end... Bits and pieces of his memory began to come back some time ago. I was amazed to find out how similar his past was to mine. He wasn’t always a cave spider, he was once a human. Furthermore he was a highly-respected figurehead in his village. He was also a father with a wonderful family, and beautiful children that adored him. His life was absolutely storybook perfect. And then... 

The details he gave me were still fuzzy but the gist of it was that things went south faster than anyone could blink. Family dead. Home destroyed, the entire village was rendered to blazing shambles. Orpheus was both cursed and injured and whichever person helped him escape died or disappeared under mysterious circumstances. And then he was left alone. When the mutation completely took hold that was when the amnesia set in. Given what had just happened to him I think that was the greatest mercy fate could ever give him.

Recalling this part always made me a little sullen; I was never so lucky in that I was spared from remembering what had happened to me. Or what I did... But I would never hold that against Orpheus. Before we met, every night he was tormented by the same thing, over and over again. Now the burden on his conscience was easier for him to bear - he had somebody to help him shoulder the weight. These days the nightmares are rarer, and I can’t help but feel a sense of personal pride over being the one to help him reach that point. Perhaps one day I would afford him the same courtesy and tell him my story too. Until then...

“Why did you stop?”

Hearing Orpheus’ voice jolted me back to reality. “Sorry, I was thinking.”

“You tend to do that a lot.” He chuckled and settled his head back against my chest.

“But of course,” I stated matter-of-factly. “It’s just what I do.”

“You were frowning like you were worried about something. Or angry. It’s hard to tell when you’re upside-down.”

“Fff, yeah yeah.” I looked away then, still too wrapped up in my thoughts to resume combing his fur out. Not that it needed it anymore, it was nice and soft now without a trace of clumped spikiness. Well and truly silky. Anything after this point was purely for the sake of touch between us.

One of his hands from his lower set brushed my leg, tickling me out of my thoughts again. “Hey, Overworld to Nameless... What’s wrong.”

More silence from me. For all my intelligence coming up with what to say in the moment was hard sometimes.

“I’ll tickle your feet next if you don’t talk to me.”

“Do that and I’ll freaking kick you,” I retorted with laughter. Orpheus knew all too well how sensitive my pads were. “I just... I’m really glad you’re my friend.”

At this he treated me to a gentle smile and rubbed his head against me where he lay. “I’m glad you’re my friend too.” And then after a few beats he added “Even if you and your mod are both weirdly touchy-feely.”

“Gk~ you mean especially because we are you great big spider-turd, you! And as if you’re one to talk! Hypocrite!” I crossed my arms in mock indignation and covered his eyes with them. I expected him to flail about in disorientation but he only huffed a laugh and grabbed my legs with two hands firmly and lifted - the other two hands took position poised beneath my raised feet, fingers wiggling menacingly. Clearly I was playing a dangerous game far out of my league but I wasn’t about to submit so easily. Instead I leaned down close to his face and hissed “Do it and I will teleport you face-first into the nearest bog and leave you there.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

We sat there at an impasse for what felt like ages, both frozen, both deathly afraid to make the first move. And then I felt a jab right into my armpit (the scheming devil, he sneak-attacked my other ticklish spot while I was distracted!), making me squawk and lightly slap at him wherever I could reach like the fussy child I was. He only laughed at me, very loudly to boot, until I couldn’t help but start laughing too. It went on until we were both spent and wheezing and oh Notch my middle hurt so bad but I couldn’t care less.

Eventually we both calmed down and I announced that we needed to get some  rest, for which he had no complaints. He soon fell asleep practically in my lap. Unfortunately for me, I had my square head braced up against hard rock for a pillow. That was guaranteed neck pain later on for sure, but I didn’t care; Orpheus was keeping us both warm and I couldn’t ask for a better blanket in these temperatures. Sleep overtook me quickly.

---

I managed to wake myself up again some time later. It was close to time for that surprise I promised. The forecast proved right, miraculously so. From our little burrow hiding spot I could see the ethereal glowing blue of the sky outside, clear and speckled with stars that cast their soft light over the world. The moon was nowhere to be seen, but all the better to see what lie out in the vastness of space above. Absolutely 100% no light pollution in this place to hinder our ability to see what was to come. Good. This was exactly what I had counted on. I checked my clock to find that it was late, almost midnight in fact. Excellent. It was almost time...

This time of night the nocturnal world was quietly active. An owl here and there, the slight sway of branches as a cool breeze blew through the pines below us. The grass outside had long since dried (the rain wasn’t all that heavy today we were just out in it too long) and it was almost like there hadn’t been a storm at all. Except for the temperature. It was still plenty chilly but rainy days tended to be warmer in Winter than cloudless ones. Right now the atmosphere hadn’t yet dropped in too many degrees. I would need to sit by the fire again before too long but for now the cold was bearable. As for my partner, he needn’t worry about such trifles whatsoever. Perfect... Fate dealt me a great hand tonight. Orpheus was gonna’ love this!

Speaking of which, I was still trapped under him in his sleep. I tried to nudge him awake while still yawning myself.

“Hey... wake up... Orpheus... Or... Orpheus... Wa-... Oh my god Notch give me strength. HNNNNGGG~” Spider was a lot of fur but, again, he was also a quarter-ton of muscle and dense carapace. My stringy bean self didn’t have a chance against this kind of weight. Thankfully all my struggling at long last woke him up so I could revive both my dead legs.

“Sometimes I wonder how you can move so fast along walls when you’re this FAT.”

“I’m not fat??”

“Tell that to your butt.”

“That’s not my butt, that’s my abdomen, you know that.”

“Still fat.”

“Yeah, well, what would you know of it, you’re just a twig with scales.”

“And fabulous legs... Which I can NOT feel because YOUR FAT SPIDER BUTT was laying on top of both of them! Gaaahhh~”

He sighed at me. “In that case you could’ve just had me sleep somewhere else.”

“Heh... nah. You looked so peaceful. And you make a great blanket.”

“Gee, in that case, so happy I can provide you with warmth so you could wake me up ungodly early and verbally abuse me for it later.” He pouted dramatically my way for emphasis. 

“Come on don’t be like that. I’m about to make it up to you.” Finally. Sensation in my legs again. Orpheus held out his hand to me so I could take it and haul myself up, and I most gratefully did so.

“Really? Make it up to me how?”

“Think about it. You don’t honestly believe I hauled you three days into the mountains just to look at a bunch of wet trees, do you?”

“So if not for that, then what?”

“Hurry up and I’ll show you! Don’t wanna’ miss it!” 

---

“Did you know, Orpheus, that while most of the time I travel with the intent of finding something new and unknown, this week I’ve brought you out here to see one very specific thing in particular?”

“And what might that b- are you alright? What’s wrong?”

I had walked out into the clearing with him with my eyes covered. I was so focused on what I was doing I failed to realize he was even talking to me at first.

“... Nameless?”

“I’m alright. I’m just letting my night vision take hold.”

“Your night vision?”

“I told you before about my third eyelid, right? The thing that makes me able to function in daylight and avoid aggro mode when talking to people?”

I heard him shuffle a few steps away from me - presumably in worry. “Yeah?”

“Tch, don’t be so nervous, you’re not a human anymore. You’re not gonna’ set me off. Anyways, I have to let my eyes adjust to the new light when I retract my ‘shades’. I can’t see squat in the dark otherwise, but I always have to be c-careful.” My voice was beginning to lose strength without warning. Was my resolve failing? I guess I was just excited... or afraid. My hands were off my face now but I was gathering the courage to look at my friend - come to think of it I couldn’t even remember the last time I had shown this part of myself to anybody else, save for my family of course.

“I... I have to t-take it slow. Even dim light might hurt my eyes if I switch too fast.”

“There... Ah, oh yeah that’s much better. Wow, it’s really sparkly tonight, isn’t it? It’s fantastic!”

Orpheus... didn’t say anything. In fact, I dare say he went uncharacteristically mute on me.

“... Orpheus? Oh! That’s right, my eyes glow in the dark too, I forgot! I am so sorry! Did I startle you??”

After moving his jaw numbly in what was certainly no small amount of shock at my little deformity (poor thing) I finally heard him swallow and watched him smooth his fur back down from where it had fluffed up in fright.

“I... y-yyyou’re...” Curse it all to the Nether, he was scared witless just like that. Before I could explain myself and assure him that he was in no danger, his gaze flicked up to somewhere behind me, just as a thin streak of white crossed my peripheral. Soon more like it lit across the sky. Fast, bright needles of starlight, one after the other... celestial rain.

“The Angel’s Tears,” I breathed.

“Wha’~” It was so funny seeing Orpheus stunned into silence at what was happening over our heads.

“The Angel’s Tears,” I repeated in a murmur hardly above a whisper. It felt like if I spoke any louder the spell being cast over the world would be broken - positively sacrilegious. “Before she died, my grandmother told me long ago about them. We all know that Overworld is a realm of constant change, but it’s a balanced change. And it’s not just the land but the creatures living in it too. For every life born another life has its ending. Grandmother said that many years ago there was a terrible Winter that took far more life than was created, and in the upset of the balance Overworld was left barren even after Spring arrived. Nothing would grow and nothing would respawn except for undead mobs. Now, there was a servant of Notch  - a guardian among the many thousands tasked with overseeing the endless worlds in the multiverse we live in, and this particular guardian was charged with governing this world - upon seeing Overworld so afflicted by death and decay, they wept in sadness, and their tears fell to Overworld as seeds that would create new life to replace what was lost. Trees, flowers, even baby birds and other animals. And it was then that the guardian promised the surviving people of the world that they (the guardian) would always ensure that the land would flourish again after the Spring thaw, that no matter how hard the snow fell, when it melted again we would never be want for food and sunlight and plentiful green pastures. Now, same time every year, these falling stars signal the end of Winter and the happy arrival of Spring.”

As I finished my little tale I glanced over at Orpheus. I caught him staring back at me. I thought his gaze would’ve been glued to the sky the whole time. Then again, he always was a polite listener during even the most long-winded of my anecdotes. He quickly turned back to the meteor shower and I followed suit, and it was silent again as we drank in the magical sight. 

“... It’s amazing,” I heard Orpheus whisper next to me.

“... Yeah,” was all I could say.

I could feel him shivering uncontrollably and I only smiled and hummed to myself in sympathy; the first time I saw this starfall my body wasn’t sure how to react either. When you’re that moved by something like this, so much raw, unfiltered emotion gets piled on at once that you simply can’t handle or contain it. I remember how much I cried back then. I remember how safe and loved I felt in my father’s lap, with his and my mother’s arms around me. I remember how nothing was said but so much thought was running through my head at the time it was deafening. Papa told me he had felt me quaking so much on top of him that he was worried I was cold, but when he asked me such and I didn’t respond because I didn’t even hear the question, he figured out otherwise. That was what it meant to be starstruck, he said to me.

I don’t know how or when it happened but the next thing I knew my fingers had curled around Orpheus’. He made no attempts to pull away from it, and even squeezed back lightly - a comforting gesture. It became our shared anchor, keeping us from floating off into that beautiful, horizonless frontier. 

“My f-” The words stuck in my throat, so I cleared it awkwardly, louder than I meant to but at least it made us both remember to breathe. “Th-these stars... have a lot of sentimental value to me.”

“How so?”

“My father proposed to my mom under this sky. This exact spot.”

“Really?” Orpheus sat up at that to direct his interest towards me.

“Yeah! Actually this place isn’t all that far from where I was born! That ridge yonder? That’s where my village used to be!”

“’Used’ to be?”

“Landslide,” I admitted with a tinge of disappointment. “Really bad rain came along some years after I left home, knocked out a lot of the trees on the cliffside above the settlement and so all that dirt and rock and stuff came loose with no roots to hold it in place. Thankfully it wasn’t all at once and nobody lost their house or anything, but I learned everybody decided to move elsewhere right after that and avoid the worst.”

“Where did they go?”

“I heard they moved north, closer to the sea.” North was at our backs and I looked over my shoulder at the rest of the mountain we were perched on that was over that way. “But that was a whole lifetime ago, before I respawned. After my respawn I felt it best not to go looking for my people and instead start anew. They wouldn’t recognize me anyway.”

Orpheus could sense the despair creeping into my voice and shifted closer to me. I never even talked with Miraka about the fate of my community. All this time I decided it best to leave it be, let bygones be bygones, and not let the past weigh me down because it’s not like I could go back and change things anyway. However... as much as it hurt, I felt better talking about it. When it came to emotional support it would seem Orpheus was good at providing that just as much as me. He didn’t say anything, only put his two leftmost arms around me in his version of a half hug.

“You don’t have to be alone anymore,” he murmured.

“I’m not alone.”

“No... you’re not.” I saw him smile a little out of the corner of my eye when I read the truth in those words. I couldn’t help but smile too.

“Thank you for coming here with me to see this.”

“Thank you for inviting me. Although I’m still confused as to why you were so insistent on someone coming with you.”

“First of all, you are not just ‘someone’.” I said this with a firm tone and a matching expression, and I said this directly facing him so that there was no mistaking it nor room for argument otherwise. “You are one of my best, closest friends I’ve ever had if not my absolute best friend period. Secondly, I... I see stuff like this all the time. Don’t get me wrong, I live life to the fullest with every new marvel I come across. I’ve seen things beyond your wildest imaginations, in realms other than this one no less! But for all of that... The most memorable moments, in my opinion, are the ones that are shared with those you care about.”

I looked back at the meteor shower and nestled myself against Orpheus’ fluffy shoulder. “I’m beyond happy right now, because I was able to share this with you. So thank you for coming out here and putting up with me and putting up with all sorts of other crap like getting soaked to the exoskeleton because as long as I live by Notch I will never forget this moment purely because you were right here with me.”

Don’t cry, Nameless. Don’t you dare cry in front of him. He doesn’t deserve that.

“I don’t think I’ll ever forget this either,” Orpheus stated simply. “Any of it. Thank you.”

My hands balled into fists in my lap. I was annoyed with myself for not being able to say what I really intended to say to him... No matter. There would be other meteor showers and celestial wonders. I had all the time in the world to tell him... For now, I settled for continuing to watch Winter’s swan song with my spider companion, well through the night until the pale hues of sunrise came.

We would decide later whether we would teleport back home the short way or not. Orpheus actually agreed to doing the trek back on foot. 

Just so long as we would steer clear of any more rain this time.

[crepusculum-rattus]

he’s so cold, but it’s also always a new uncomfortable kind of warm in the overworld. nothing makes sense. how does anyone survive this place? everything is always changing. it gets dark then it gets light and then it’s dark again. when it’s light out, it’s blinding. it’s so bright out, unbelievably so, he doesn’t understand how anyone gets anything done. when it gets dark, everyone hides away and then the monsters (some he knows, others he’s never seen) come out. he is used to this. to protecting his life like it’s worth something.

if the dark and light weren’t enough change, occasionally water falls from the sky and if it’s cold enough, it is freezing and it hurts. the sky, usually blue and bright, turns gray and dark, the first time he thought the world was ending. it had only just became light once more, why is it dark again? then water hit his face and he nearly jumped out of his skin. it doesn’t hurt, he thought it would, but it’s okay.

during the times when he’s not still getting used to the constant changing of the overworld, he searches for food. the mushrooms he’s used to are hard to find here. he can kill cows and pigs and chickens, but he doesn’t have a way to cook it. he does not have fire here, he knows how to make it but he can’t find the right materials. sometimes he takes the risk of eating raw meat, he can stomach it better than a human, but that doesn’t mean he can’t get sick. he knows there are crops he can eat, he sees others eating them, but where is he supposed to get them from? he steals when he can and tries not to get caught. he doesn’t know how to grow these on his own, stealing will do until he can figure it out.

the people he steals from fear him when he gets caught. they do not stop him from taking what he needs. he watches them try to hide the reach for their weapons. he knows why. piglins are known for attacking first and asking questions later. he is dangerous and he is just a mob to most of the people he sees.

he tries to be most active during the dark, when everyone hides away and he can wander freely. he sleeps when it is light, hiding in the trees and sometimes a small hole he has dug out in the side of a mountain. it’s not safe, but it’s better than the stares and it’s easier to not have to always look at the way the overworld changes. it’s harder to tell in the darkness.

everyday is something new, and yet it starts and begins the same way. he wonders if he’ll ever get used to the overworld or if it will always be strange and full of surprises.

he doesn’t know much, but what he does know is that he is lost. he is scared. and he is alone.

thinking abt newly out of the nether techno…

[readbookywooks]

THE QUEEN OF UNDERLAND

TWO Earthmen entered, but instead of advancing into the room, they placed themselves one on each side of the door, and bowed deeply. They were followed immediately by the last person whom anyone had expected or wished to see: the Lady of the Green Kirtle, the Queen of Underland. She stood dead still in the doorway, and they could see her eyes moving as she took in the whole situation - the three strangers, the silver chair destroyed, and the Prince free, with his sword in his hand. She turned very white; but Jill thought it was the sort of whiteness that comes over some people's faces not when they are frightened but when they are angry. For a moment the Witch fixed her eyes on the Prince, and there was murder in them. Then she seemed to change her mind. "Leave us," she said to the two Earthmen. "And let none disturb us till I call, on pain of death." The gnomes padded away obediently, and the Witch-queen shut and locked the door. "How now, my lord Prince," she said. "Has your nightly fit not yet come upon you, or is it over so soon? Why stand you here unbound? Who are these aliens? And is it they who have destroyed the chair which was your only safety?" Prince Rilian shivered as she spoke to him. And no wonder: it is not easy to throw off in half an hour an enchantment which has made one a slave for ten years. Then, speaking with a great effort, he said: "Madam, there will be no more need of that chair. And you, who have told me a hundred times how deeply you pitied me for the sorceries by which I was bound, will doubtless hear with joy that they are now ended for ever. There was, it seems, some small error in your Ladyship's way of treating them. These, my true friends, have delivered me. I am now in my right mind, and there are two things I will say to you. First - as for your Ladyship's design of putting me at the head of an army of Earthmen so that I may break out into the Overworld and there, by main force, make myself king over some nation that never did me wrong - murdering their natural lords and holding their throne as a bloody and foreign tyrant - now that I know myself, I do utterly abhor and renounce it as plain villainy. And second: I am the King's son of Narnia, Rilian, the only child of Caspian, Tenth of that name, whom some call Caspian the Seafarer. Therefore, Madam, it is my purpose, as it is also my duty, to depart suddenly from your Highness's court into my own country. Please it you to grant me and my friends safe conduct and a guide through your dark realm." Now the Witch said nothing at all, but moved gently across the room, always keeping her face and eyes very steadily towards the Prince. When she had come to a little ark set in the wall not far from the fireplace, she opened it, and took out first a handful of a green powder. This she threw on the fire. It did not blaze much, but a very sweet and drowsy smell came from it. And all through the conversation which followed, that smell grew stronger, and filled the room, and made it harder to think. Secondly, she took out a musical instrument rather like a mandolin. She began to play it with her fingers - a steady, monotonous thrumming that you didn't notice after a few minutes. But the less you noticed it, the more it got into your brain and your blood. This also made it hard to think. After she had thrummed for a time (and the sweet smell was now strong) she began speaking in a sweet, quiet voice. "Narnia?" she said. "Narnia? I have often heard your Lordship utter that name in your ravings. Dear Prince, you are very sick. There is no land called Narnia." "Yes there is, though, Ma'am," said Puddleglum. "You see, I happen to have lived there all my life." "Indeed," said the Witch. "Tell me, I pray you, where that country is?" "Up there," said Puddleglum, stoutly, pointing overhead. "I - I don't know exactly where." "How?" said the Queen, with a kind, soft, musical laugh. "Is there a country up among the stones and mortar of the roof?" "No," said Puddleglum, struggling a little to get his breath. "It's in Overworld." "And what, or where, pray is this... how do you call it... Overworld?" "Oh, don't be so silly," said Scrubb, who was fighting hard against the enchantment of the sweet smell and the thrumming. "As if you didn't know! It's up above, up where you can see the sky and the sun and the stars. Why, you've been there yourself. We met you there." "I cry you mercy, little brother," laughed the Witch (you couldn't have heard a lovelier laugh). "I have no memory of that meeting. But we often meet our friends in strange places when we dream. And unless all dreamed alike, you must not ask them to remember it." "Madam," said the Prince sternly, "I have already told your Grace that I am the King's son of Narnia." "And shalt be, dear friend," said the Witch in a soothing voice, as if she was humouring a child, "shalt be king of many imagined lands in thy fancies." "We've been there, too," snapped Jill. She was very angry because she could feel enchantment getting hold of her every moment. But of course the very fact that she could still feel it, showed that it had not yet fully worked. "And thou art Queen of Narnia too, I doubt not, pretty one," said the Witch in the same coaxing, half-mocking tone. "I'm nothing of the sort," said Jill, stamping her foot. "We come from another world." "Why, this is a prettier game than the other," said the Witch. "Tell us, little maid, where is this other world? What ships and chariots go between it and ours?" Of course a lot of things darted into Jill's head at once: Experiment House, Adela Pennyfather, her own home, radio-sets, cinemas, cars, aeroplanes, ration-books, queues. But they seemed dim and far away. (Thrum thrum - thrum - went the strings of the Witch's instrument.) Jill couldn't remember the names of the things in our world. And this time it didn't come into her head that she was being enchanted, for now the magic was in its full strength; and of course, the more enchanted you get, the more certain you feel that you are not enchanted at all. She found herself saying (and at the moment it was a relief to say): "No. I suppose that other world must be all a dream." "Yes. It is all a dream," said the Witch, always thrumming. "Yes, all a dream," said Jill. "There never was such a world," said the Witch. "No," said Jill and Scrubb, "never was such a world." "There never was any world but mine," said the Witch. "There never was any world but yours," said they. Puddleglum was still fighting hard. "I don't know rightly what you all mean by a world," he said, talking like a man who hasn't enough air. "But you can play that fiddle till your fingers drop off, and still you won't make me forget Narnia; and the whole Overworld too. We'll never see it again, I shouldn't wonder. You may have blotted it out and turned it dark like this, for all I know. Nothing more likely. But I know I was there once. I've seen the sky full of stars. I've seen the sun coming up out of the sea of a morning and sinking behind the mountains at night. And I've seen him up in the midday sky when I couldn't look at him for brightness." Puddleglum's words had a very rousing effect. The other three all breathed again and looked at one another like people newly awaked. "Why, there it is!" cried the Prince. "Of course! The blessing of Aslan upon this honest Marsh-wiggle. We have all been dreaming, these last few minutes. How could we have forgotten it? Of course we've all seen the sun." "By Jove, so we have!" said Scrubb. "Good for you, Puddleglum! You're the only one of us with any sense, I do believe." Then came the Witch's voice, cooing softly like the voice of a wood-pigeon from the high elms in an old garden at three o'clock in the middle of a sleepy, summer afternoon; and it said: "What is this sun that you all speak of? Do you mean anything by the word?" "Yes, we jolly well do," said Scrubb. "Can you tell me what it's like?" asked the Witch (thrum, thrum, thrum, went the strings). "Please it your Grace," said the Prince, very coldly and politely. "You see that lamp. It is round and yellow and gives light to the whole room; and hangeth moreover from the roof. Now that thing which we call the sun is like the lamp, only far greater and brighter. It giveth light to the whole Overworld and hangeth in the sky." "Hangeth from what, my lord?" asked the Witch; and then, while they were all still thinking how to answer her, she added, with another of her soft, silver laughs: "You see? When you try to think out clearly what this sun must be, you cannot tell me. You can only tell me it is like the lamp. Your sun is a dream; and there is nothing in that dream that was not copied from the lamp. The lamp is the real thing; the sun is but a tale, a children's story." "Yes, I see now," said Jill in a heavy, hopeless tone. "It must be so." And while she said this, it seemed to her to be very good sense. Slowly and gravely the Witch repeated, "There is no sun." And they all said nothing. She repeated, in a softer and deeper voice. "There is no sun." After a pause, and after a struggle in their minds, all four of them said together. "You are right. There is no sun." It was such a relief to give in and say it. "There never was a sun," said the Witch. "No. There never was a sun," said the Prince, and the Marsh-wiggle, and the children. For the last few minutes Jill had been feeling that there was something she must remember at all costs. And now she did. But it was dreadfully hard to say it. She felt as if huge weights were laid on her lips. At last, with an effort that seemed to take all the good out of her, she said: "There's Aslan." "Aslan?" said the Witch, quickening ever so slightly the pace of her thrumming. "What a pretty name! What does it mean?" "He is the great Lion who called us out of our own world," said Scrubb, "and sent us into this to find Prince Rilian." "What is a lion?" asked the Witch. "Oh, hang it all!" said Scrubb. "Don't you know? How can we describe it to her? Have you ever seen a cat?" "Surely," said the Queen. "I love cats." "Well, a lion is a little bit - only a little bit, mind you like a huge cat - with a mane. At least, it's not like a horse's mane, you know, it's more like a judge's wig. And it's yellow. And terrifically strong." The Witch shook her head. "I see," she said, "that we should do no better with your lion, as you call it, than we did with your sun. You have seen lamps, and so you imagined a bigger and better lamp and called it the sun. You've seen cats, and now you want a bigger and better cat, and it's to be called a lion. Well, 'tis a pretty makebelieve, though, to say truth, it would suit you all better if you were younger. And look how you can put nothing into your make-believe without copying it from the real world, this world of mine, which is the only world. But even you children are too old for such play. As for you, my lord Prince, that art a man full grown, fie upon you! Are you not ashamed of such toys? Come, all of you. Put away these childish tricks. I have work for you all in the real world. There is no Narnia, no Overworld, no sky, no sun, no Aslan. And now, to bed all. And let us begin a wiser life tomorrow. But, first, to bed; to sleep; deep sleep, soft pillows, sleep without foolish dreams." The Prince and the two children were standing with their heads hung down, their cheeks flushed, their eyes half closed; the strength all gone from them; the enchantment almost complete. But Puddleglum, desperately gathering all his strength, walked over to the fire. Then he did a very brave thing. He knew it wouldn't hurt him quite as much as it would hurt a human; for his feet (which were bare) were webbed and hard and coldblooded like a duck's. But he knew it would hurt him badly enough; and so it did. With his bare foot he stamped on the fire, grinding a large part of it into ashes on the flat hearth. And three things happened at once. First, the sweet heavy smell grew very much less. For though the whole fire had not been put out, a good bit of it had, and what remained smelled very largely of burnt Marsh-wiggle, which is not at all an enchanting smell. This instantly made everyone's brain far clearer. The Prince and the children held up their heads again and opened their eyes. Secondly, the Witch, in a loud, terrible voice, utterly different from all the sweet tones she had been using up till now, called out, "What are you doing? Dare to touch my fire again, mud-filth, and I'll turn the blood to fire inside your veins." Thirdly, the pain itself made Puddleglum's head for a moment perfectly clear and he knew exactly what he really thought. There is nothing like a good shock of pain for dissolving certain kinds of magic. "One word, Ma'am," he said, coming back from the fire; limping, because of the pain. "One word. All you've been saying is quite right, I shouldn't wonder. I'm a chap who always liked to know the worst and then put the best face I can on it. So I won't deny any of what you said. But there's one thing more to be said, even so. Suppose we have only dreamed, or made up, all those things - trees and grass and sun and moon and stars and Aslan himself. Suppose we have. Then all I can say is that, in that case, the made-up things seem a good deal more important than the real ones. Suppose this black pit of a kingdom of yours is the only world. Well, it strikes me as a pretty poor one. And that's a funny thing, when you come to think of it. We're just babies making up a game, if you're right. But four babies playing a game can make a playworld which licks your real world hollow. That's why I'm going to stand by the play-world. I'm on Aslan's side even if there isn't any Aslan to lead it. I'm going to live as like a Narnian as I can even if there isn't any Narnia. So, thanking you kindly for our supper, if these two gentlemen and the young lady are ready, we're leaving your court at once and setting out in the dark to spend our lives looking for Overland. Not that our lives will be very long, I should think; but that's a small loss if the world's as dull a place as you say." "Oh, hurrah! Good old Puddleglum!" cried Scrubb and Jill. But the Prince shouted suddenly, "Ware! Look to the Witch." When they did look their hair nearly stood on end. The instrument dropped from her hands. Her arms appeared to be fastened to her sides. Her legs were intertwined with each other, and her feet had disappeared. The long green train of her skirt thickened and grew solid, and seemed to be all one piece with the writhing green pillar of her interlocked legs. And that writhing green pillar was curving and swaying as if it had no joints, or else were all joints. Her head was thrown far back and while her nose grew longer and longer, every other part of her face seemed to disappear, except her eyes. Huge flaming eyes they were now, without brows or lashes. All this takes time to write down; it happened so quickly that there was only just time to see it. Long before there was time to do anything, the change was complete, and the great serpent which the Witch had become, green as poison, thick as Jill's waist, had flung two or three coils of its loathsome body round the Prince's legs. Quick as lightning another great loop darted round, intending to pinion his sword-arm to his side. But the Prince was just in time. He raised his arms and got them clear: the living knot closed only round his chest - ready to crack his ribs like firewood when it drew tight. The Prince caught the creature's neck in his left hand, trying to squeeze it till it choked. This held its face (if you could call it a face) about five inches from his own. The forked tongue flickered horribly in and out, but could not reach him. With his right hand he drew back his sword for the strongest blow he could give. Meanwhile Scrubb and Puddleglum had drawn their weapons and rushed to his aid. All three blows fell at once: Scrubb's (which did not even pierce the scales and did no good) on the body of the snake below the Prince's hand, but the Prince's own blow and Puddleglum's both on its neck. Even that did not quite kill it, though it began to loosen its hold on Rilian's legs and chest. With repeated blows they hacked off its head. The horrible thing went on coiling and moving like a bit of wire long after it had died; and the floor, as you may imagine, was a nasty mess. The Prince, when he had breath, said, "Gentlemen, I thank you." Then the three conquerors stood staring at one another and panting, without another word, for a long time. Jill had very wisely sat down and was keeping quiet; she was saying to herself, "I do hope I don't faint or blub - or do anything idiotic." "My royal mother is avenged," said Rilian presently. "This is undoubtedly the same worm that I pursued in vain by the fountain in the forest of Narnia, so many years ago. All these years I have been the slave of my mother's slayer. Yet I am glad, gentlemen, that the foul Witch took to her serpent form at the last. It would not have suited well either with my heart or with my honour to have slain a woman. But look to the lady." He meant Jill. "I'm all right, thanks," said she. "Damsel," said the Prince, bowing to her. "You are of a high courage, and therefore, I doubt not, you come of a noble blood in your own world. But come, friends. Here is some wine left. Let us refresh ourselves and each pledge his fellows. After that, to our plans." "A jolly good idea, Sir," said Scrubb.

[subversivesmile]

☰

x | Munday Meme Extraordinaire

☰ - Fun random fact about the mun!

Every time someone asks me a random fact I immediately forget all facts about my life.

No, I’m kidding. Or well, I’m not, but that’s not really a great random fact. So instead I’m going to go with my latest achievement. Yesterday evening I finally beat Tyranny after ~31 hours of play (according to Steam), which is a god damn accomplishment because I NEVER finish games. Like I’m the sort of person who plays a game for a while then gets distracted by another one and never comes back to finish the first. Of course, it also doesn’t help that I’m really bad at a lot of genres, so it’s just difficult for me to beat games in general. RPGs (whether CRPGs or more mainstream ones), like Tyranny, are probably just about the only games I ever beat, since they require just time rather than skill (especially since I usually play at relatively low difficulties so I can feel OP).

In fact, I’d guess that I’ve beaten less than 10% of the games I’ve played, and 5% of the games in my Steam library. Since I’m now curious, I’m going to go through and list the ones I’ve played, and bold the ones I’ve beaten, so that I can come up with an ACTUAL percentage.

For the record, all RTSes or multiplayer titles will be left out unless they have a single player campaign, in which case, that’s what I’m referring to by whether or not I’ve beaten the game. (example: Heroes of Might and Magic 3 is well-known for being a great tactics game, but it also has a complex campaign line made up of multiple branches that come together for a story. Since I’ve not beaten it (though I’ve been periodically replaying it over the years), I can’t consider the game ‘beaten’ even though I’ve won quite a few normal games against the AI on easy difficulty.

Abzu

Age of Empires II

Age of Mythology

Age of Wonders III

Antichamber

Aquaria (gotten so close, like probably 80%, but then got stuck)

Baldur’s Gate

The Banner Saga

Bastion

Brothers: A Tale of Two Sons

Brutal Legend

Chroma Squad (got SOOO close. Got to right before the final boss battle, then my game glitched and wouldn’t let me continue, and it was so disheartening I haven’t gone back. I know the bug’s fixed now, so I’ll probably replay it someday, but...)

Cinders (though I’ve only gotten one ending out of like 7+)

Costume Quest

Costume Quest 2

Cthulhu Saves The World (main campaign only, not the new game+ mode)

Divinity: Original Sin (so many attempts made, but it’s better with two players, and that always leads to the other person I’m playing with losing interest, or scheduling conflicts for play sessions, or whatever.)

DLC Quest (this game is less than two hours long so I’m not sure if it counts, but.)

Dragon Age: Origins

Dragon Age 2

Dragon Age: Inquisition

Dust: An Elysian Tail

The Elder Scrolls 5: Skyrim (hahahahaha. ha. h a.)

Epistory: Typing Chronicles (got to a point I’m just not good enough to progress, sadly. fucking amazing game though.)

Evoland

Forced Showdown (have beaten the first campaign, not able to beat second one yet. I probably will never be good enough for that, though.)

Gravity Ghost

Guild of Dungeoneering

Hatoful Boyfriend (gotten one ending. that’s enough.)

Heroes of Might and Magic III

Hunie Cam Studio (have beaten it and gotten the highest ranking of dick trophy, if I recall correctly.)

ittle Dew

Knights of Pen and Paper (beat it on mobile before it was the +1 edition, have not cleared all the new content that’s been added since)

Lego Marvel

Lego Star Wars: The Complete Saga

Long Live the Queen (is it even possible to beat this game without a walkthrough...)

lumino city

Magicka

The Marvellous Miss Take

Mass Effect

No Man’s Sky (have not reached center of the galaxy, due to spending time grinding out the language of one of the aliens, which I did fully complete.)

Ori and the Blind Forest

Paper Sorcerer (almost done with, I think)

Party Hard (beat it a bit after release, have not beaten the new content that came out since.)

Pillars of Eternity (probably would have beaten if it I didn’t keep restarting the damn game every time. I’ve beaten the first act once, and the first 3-5 areas probably a couple dozen times...)

Putt Putt Goes To The Moon (beaten this probably hundreds of times as a kid, plus a few times as an adult)

Putt Putt Travels Through Time

Rack n’ Ruin

Recettear: An Item Shop’s Tale

Renowned Explorers: International Society (have beaten the release version a couple times, have not beaten the new content)

Reverse Crawl

Saint’s Row IV

Scribblenauts Unmasked

Seduce Me the Otome (no judging pls.)

Shadowrun Returns

Shadowrun Dragonfall (I got really far then lost a bunch of progress, I forget why, and didn’t feel like doing the same missions I’d just done. Someday I’ll play it again and beat it.)

Snakebird

Solitairica

South Park: The Stick of Truth

Stacking

Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic (unfortunately I can’t get the resolution fix to work on my current computer, so playing this is reserved for when I visit my parents, since it works on their computer. thankfully, I can transfer my save file easily via email.)

Stardew Valley

thomas was alone

To The Moon

Transistor (someday. some fucking day)

Trine

Trine 2

Tyranny (still planning new playthroughs to finish the game with all 4 endings possible)

UnEpic (I think this is beatable and not JUST roguelite?)

War for the Overworld

The Witcher

The Witcher 2

The Wolf Among Us

The Yawhg (have played through to the ending once, have not gotten other endings.)

So, I’ve played 74 out of 276 games in my library. Of those 74, I’ve beaten.. 23 of them, or 20 if you consider only getting one ending in a visual novel to be cheating (which is probably true to be fair). >_>

...That’s actually not as bad as I thought, all things considered.

Not included on the above list, games I’ve played very very briefly and either lost interest in or was too bad at:

Assassin’s Creed (can’t remember which one I played, but I gave up and switched ot watching the movie versions on youtube)

Ascendant

Batman Arkham games (see Assassin’s Creed)

Broken Age

Final Fantasy.... 13, I think. I hated the stupid ‘stars on battle’ mechanics because, due to my OCD, I could NOT handle not getting 5 stars. like I’d just keep trying the same battles over and over and over again and not getting 5 stars and getting frustrated and just. It was probably the game I’ve hated most of all time.

The Magic Circle

Mass Effect 2 (someday I’ll get around to this again... And then ten years later I’ll get around to 3...)

Middle Earth: Shadow of Mordor

Pony Island (not sure how far I got, but someday I’ll come back to this)

Portal

The Witcher 3 (the FoV makes me sick and it’s not worth the effort to mod the files, since honestly, it’s a bit gorey for my tastes anyway. I’m STILL mad I can’t refund this since the steam refund policy came out a day too late...)