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regrowal-the-game · 7 months ago

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Update Log #2

Rushing /right/ into things since I am ever-so slightly approaching the midnight of 5/24/2024 (im so sorry) here's the new/fixed tools and fixed copper color :)

(left to right: claymore, staff, spear, knife, shovel, chisel, rounded shield, bucket, paxel, pickaxe, hoe, axe, bow saw, sling shot, and bow)

Now that I've caught your eye, time to quickly go over the huge technical stuff that doesn't have any fancy images to show *yet*: 1. It now is supported on Linux! (Windows and Apple too obviously) 2. Controller support! Play using whatever controller you'd like, or a standard mouse and keyboard. 3. There's now a saving state when quitting the game to ensure no file corruption when quitting to main screen

4. WE'VE STARTED THE SURVIVAL MODE AND WEIGHT-BASED INVENTORY SYSTEM LETS GOOOOOOO

Here's the WIP design of the HUD, followed by the concept draft for the inventory system:

Basically, as items are added to your backpack/player/whatever, they add to the total weight vs possible storage weight. similar to games like Fallout or Skyrim, but with the visual grid layout of inventories like Stardew Valley or Minecraft or Terraria. obviously as that list grows, itll expand the size of the GUI but if its *too* large itll have a scroll bar. no more worrying about having 347353 different flower types or random knick knacks. so long as you have the STR stat for it you're good to go!

Magazines/books are in the work now too! You can find and read tidbits of these across the world, ranging from top secret training manuals which give you permanent stat bonuses to learning how to make coffee or bits of lore and new customization options, they've got it all!

(also ignore the sentinels standing in as the temporary player models for now but i felt like including this image from a past update preview to visually explain what i meant by stats and STR/strength/carrying weight/leveling those things up and whatnot)

AND FINALLY THE REST

Updated Textures!

New textures and models

New unique items/tools/weapons/blocks

Implemented more blocks

About 15 new lore entries/logs to discover

2 new in game corpo logos and some related items, Daemonik Energy and NUD - Neural User Display (aka the brand that made the user HUD)

A bunch of new skybox elements such as the distant Orbital Satellites, Planets, and more

....a few more things i cant remember right now (i swear ill get better at these summaries - @recusantalchemist)

We are working on the details to have a musician now to work on our soundtrack with us.

All in all, a fantastic 2 weeks of progress that wouldn't have been possible without @andeditor7, like seriously this dude is a genius and I will hype my friend's technowizardry forever. P.s. we are thinking of changing the title to ReGrowAll instead of ReGrowal, let us know what you think. all in all im tired and missed the deadline by 16 minutes (sorry!!!) and im gonna pass out for the night. See yall with a more coherent summary on 6/8/2024! - @recusantalchemist

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darkness-and-lavender · 6 months ago

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Cycle 3- Two-Headed boy

Clyde sat at the far left of the podium in Dal-Innis’s stuffy and over-lit conference room. Despite the building being recently constructed in the past year, he already knew the layout off by heart. It wasn’t unbecoming of the occupation to drag him and his Chief father to these meetings here and use them both to calm their people.

This time was different not. He and his father both had been called once again by the Imperial Governor of Harrow to attend for a so called “emergency meeting”.

Clyde knew what had happened, he had been informed by his mother Eubha about the murder of a Harrowish child earlier in the day, the arrest of his pseudo-sister Suvi and the deaths of two soldiers that apparently had been done at the hands of his pseudo-sibling Kuunya.

He wondered what fancy words would be twisted by the Governor and his war criminal cronies to make light of the situation and shift the blame off of themselves.

The whole situation soured his stomach. He hated how with every passing moon he was seen as nothing but a collaborator in his people’s eyes. He hated the diplomatic, fence-sitting façade he had to put up when in all honestly, he wished to unsheathe his claymore from upon the side of his black kilt and take the heads of every Imperial and Loyalist he happened upon. His father being not an exception.

But that was not to be, at least not at this moment. The room had Imperial soldiers armed with mana rifles and gladii blades stationed at all exits. Not far from Clyde stood the Governor’s personal guards in correct postures. The guards wore gold and white fatigues that were infused with plates of the magic resistant, icy blue metal of Zephez. That armour had become their trump card in taking and the Isle.

Clyde’s pale emerald eyes scanned the room in hopes to land upon a familiar face. He was surprised not to find Suvi, Kuunya and their mother; Rain absent. His mother most likely with them too. If only he could be so lucky.

Clyde’s gaze caught the indigo eyes of a somewhat familiar Druid that stood with awkwardness by the double doors at the entrance. His name was Allister, a man older than he at thirty-three whose appearance spoke more than he did. Allister wore his fiery ruby hair shaved on all sides but the top where it was slicked back to resemble a flame. Though Clyde may have spoken a dozen words or less to the man throughout his life, he knew why he was here.

Allister had trained alongside Kuunya nearly all their life and became a close friend to them, one of the few people they minded not to be around. Allister was a good fellow in Clyde’s eyes, he had always attended these meetings in place of Kuunya, despite wanting to be here as much as Clyde himself did.

Clyde caught Allister turn to glance out the windows of the double doors, with haste he moved to be seated. The soldiers that bordered the doors opened them in sync and entered the Cathbad Veterox who looked as he forgotten what happiness was. To Veterox’s left was Clyde’s father; Chief Pádraig who wore the silver pointed, emerald heavy crown as if he deserved to. His faded green eyes hid behind a pair of oversized round glasses, his short black hair thin at his hairline on the right. His father’s complexion was as pale as his own, minus any freckles and the fact he aged like a tall glass of milk. Clyde could only hope that he’d age like his mother.

Two rows of six of the Governor’s guards trailed the two figureheads, followed by the Governor himself; a vile, shrewd faced bastard by the name of Olivius Nepton. The sunken eyed man wore a sky blue overcoat with epaulettes of gold on the shoulders above of a white and gold uniform that held many medals, no doubt awarded to him for his role in defiling Clyde’s Isle home. The Governor’s appearance alone made Clyde’s blood boil, perhaps he should have not worn his black turtleneck this day.

When the Governor entered the soldiers at the doors slammed them shut. His guards formed rows on either side of path that led to the stage, their backs faced towards those seated. Each soldier thumped the butts of their rifles against the concrete floor when the Governor passed. A sign of respect, Clyde assumed.

The Governor’s heavy boots creaked across the wooden stairs upon the stage. Veterox acknowledged the Governor with a nod and his father dared to bow. Clyde tried with all his strength to mask a scowl that threatened to show upon his face. Harrowish needn’t bow to anyone but Her Darkness; Undrel.

The Governor took to the podium, all those Loyalists and pro-Imperialists in attendance before him rose from their seats and sat down a second later. Clyde however, did not rise.

He stood now meters away from Clyde. Clyde’s freckled nose infested by the overpowering cologne in the Governor’s shoulder length, wavy brown hair. It was a stench Clyde wished he was unaccustomed to.

The Governor cleared his throat. “Citizens of Harrow, My colleagues and I have been made aware of a shooting that involved a member of our protectorate forces.”

Here we fucking go.

“However, I assure you that whatever you may have heard from those who claimed to have witnessed the event, is simply an unreliable side to this unfolding situation.”

The Governor’s lied with such confidence. It is as if he believes he will never reap what he has sown.

“There is no further information to be delivered at this moment. Whenever my colleagues and I should be informed on any developments, we will share them with you all via radio, television and newspaper.” The Governor rubbed his pointed goatee.

“I shall now let Chief Pádraig take the stage for any inquiries you may have.” With that, he and Clyde’s father to his left swapped positions.”

“Hello everyone! I’ll be taking any questions for the next 10 minutes.” His father spoke in an unfittingly laid back tone, a half smile upon his face. Could he at least attempt at giving a rat’s ass?

Clyde pinched the bridge of his nose. His black, square rimmed glasses pushed to his forehead against his long, vibrant orange bangs. Many conferences before had proved to him that his father’s passion, his respect for his position of Chief had been lost, if his collaboration was not enough of a statement in itself.

For the sake of his ever dwindling sanity, Clyde purposefully zoned out the rest of the conference. He had not a desire to speak. There was not a thing he could say that would benefit the situation. What thoughts that passed through his mind were about Suvi and what she must be going through, about Kuunya and how the occupation may attempt to have them trialed and about Sean, who was the last living member of his family. Another family the Empire had destroyed. Another Harrowish sent to Chello’s realm.

____

Clyde took his leave early to avoid any questions asked of him and to distance himself from his father. Any moment he could spend away from him, he would take without question.

The late day’s sun kissed his pale face and its gentle winds weaved through his long, voluminous locks. It improved his mood only slightly.

What would greatly improve his mood and mask his troubles was a trip to his favourite pub; the Black House, located in a dark corner of Dal-Innis and one of the few places left unmolested by the Empire.

Sure, in his sights on the main street before him there were many watering holes, ones he was once a regular at, five years ago prior to the war and occupation. Those taverns however, saw change to fit the palate of the occupiers and their families. Where whiskey once had flown, now various wines did, fruity in all the wrong ways. Pies of haggis swapped for something the occupiers called a “gyro”. Or was it “gyro”? In all honestly, Clyde minded them not. It was still mutton.

The high heels of Clyde’s thigh high black boots clunked down every stair at the hall’s entrance. The main street before him had little activity. The song of the breeze through the forever green trees behind the buildings overpowered all other sounds.

The doors behind him cried in a creek, followed by the voice Clyde didn’t care to hear.

“Hey Son! Me, Olivius and some of his men are gonna be heading to The Spread Eagle for supper, and y’know, some other things. Would you like to join us?”

Clyde bit his bottom lip in utter disgust, his fists clenched and he was only glad for he had been back on to his father. There was nothing about that situation that could ever possibly appeal to him.

He swallowed his growing rage and feigned a look of curiosity at his father.

“But father, isn’t it rather inappropriate to attend a brothel during this tragic time?”

His father let out a deep belly laugh.

“O-Oh Clyde, you know these past few years have been populated by nothing but tragic times! If we can’t relax now, we can’t do it at all! You know, you’re really starting to sound like your ma.” His father’s lopsided grin dissipated after his last sentence.

Clyde would take that as a complement instead of an insult. How he dearly wished his mother could have been Chief. She was everything his father wasn’t. Eubha was bold, strong in mind and body and loyal to her family, to her people, to her homeland and to Her Darkness. Truly it was a wonder what she ever saw in him.

“I’ll take that as you don’t wanna come then. Y’know, you will have to get used to the Empire if you plan on taking my place, son.” His father turned and re-entered the hall.

Clyde’s rage reached its peak, he would sooner take his final breathe than be a mere puppet for the Aethren Empire. Never would he become the filth his father was.

In quick steps he climbed the stairs and approached the doors his father just shut. One hand he placed on the door and the other the basket hilt of his claymore.

“No, not this day, not yet” He repeated to himself, and swallowed his emotions again.

Back down the stairs he went and towards the direct of his favourite secluded pub. He needed to get away as fast as his anger let him.

____

Clyde shoved the heavy, dark wooden, windowless door of the Black House open and practically fell inside upon the wooden floor, only to correct himself on the railing that separated the bar from the equally dimly lit seating area.

“Another conference, huh?” Questioned the bartender, Iain in his grizzled voice, his eyes stayed on the Cherrywood bartop he was polishing.

Clyde grunted in place of a reply and pushed himself onto a barstool. The bar was in its usual desolate state. The other barstools unoccupied along with the half dozen tables, minus two semi familiar, shady individuals that sat at the table farthest away, they spoke with looks more than in words.

Clyde lazily watched Iain clean. He was a middle aged man, but his exact age Clyde knew not nor cared to ask. His short, faded black hair in a widow’s peak. He wore a brown wool shirt and blue dress pants, held up by suspenders that curved around his gut.

Iain had been a soldier during the Imperial invasion and formerly a close friend to Clyde’s father. After the treaty was signed and the war ended, Iain set up this bar out of the way and it now stands as one of the last bastions of Harrowish culture.

The tired, green eyes of Iain looked Clyde up and down. “This might be the worst you ever looked, lad.” His thick accented voice held a hint of concern.

Iain was right, as usual. Clyde’s black eyeshadow had smeared down his face, his hair a frizzled mess and his black lipstick smudged from where his sharpened teeth bit down when he suppressed his rage.

“Just give me something strong Iain.” Clyde’s gaze still upon the bartop.

Iain nodded and grabbed a tall glass bottle of whiskey from the sparsely stocked row of drinks behind the bar. He placed it before Clyde along with a frosted glass freshly pulled from the minifridge below the bartop. Clyde hastily snatched the bottle and poured a good third of it down his throat. He cared not for the cold glass or the whiskey’s room temperature. He needed it as a raven needed the sky.

“Slow it down there, laddy! That’s thirty-five bolts.”

Clyde choked on the drink when the price hit his ears.

“T-Thirty feckin’ five?! t’was a twenty just the other week!”

“Aye, but with the occupation’s recent violent crackdown on the black market, I feel me stocks will only get lighter. The bastards really haven’t a problem gunning down children.” Iain shook his head, his expression read hopelessness.

It crushed Clyde to see it. Iain had already lost so much during these past years.

Clyde forked over two twenty bolt bills. “They never had a problem with it during the war.” He returned to his drink.

“Keep the fiver, put it towards my next bottle.”

Clyde hadn’t ever to worry about overindulging in drink. For whatever reason, he had never once gotten drunk or even tipsy in the slightest. This, he saw as both a blessing and a curse. In times like these, he believed it more as the latter.

He reached the bottom of the first bottle faster than he intended and immediately ordered another. This one would be his last. Sure he could handle more but he wanted not to drink what little booze Iain had left in stock.

Clyde and Iain resumed their conversation about the occupation and over the passing hours the topics would change to music, religion and finally to family.

“Again, I worry for Veronika. She still locks herself in her room, tunes out the world and cares only for her projects. She’s been repairing Kuunya’s moped for the past week and all it needed was a basic fix up! Something I know she can do within an hour!” Clyde rested his weary head in his hands.

“’Can’t say I blame your sis for not wanting to face today’s world, I’d suggest trying to get her out of the castle, even if for an hour a day. Perhaps bring ‘er here.” Iain ended the last word in a chuckle, his well-worked hands drying a mug.

Clyde only scoffed in reply. His sister wasn’t bad by any means at socializing, she just preferred to do it at home. Like all other things.

He stood up from his stool in a stretch and glanced at the clock above the bar that read 10:18pm.

“I should prolly be movin on out now, gotta stop somewhere to pick up a meal for ‘Roni. If Mum or Kuunya haven’t dropped any food off than I doubt she’s eaten.”

“Aye then, oidhche mhath” bade Iain, his focus still on his mugs”

“Oidhche mhath” replied Clyde as he took his exit.

An armada of stars lit the night’s sky in support of the moon. The celestial bodies overpowered the dim streetlamps and served as a guide for Clyde on his journey to the shops.

End Cycle 3

#heresy #my writing

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kovacs-of-courage · 2 years ago

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Thing I wrote for my friend’s cadence of hyrule oc.

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Lute sprinted down a temple’s stone corridors, arrows landing at his feet, always a second too slow to the beat.

He looked behind him, his sweat-soaked hair matted to his forehead. It was about what he expected--that the hoard of bloodthirsty demons following him had grown in number yet again. They’d entered this temple on behalf of a princess--a simple milk run, just a casual afternoon of slaying a few scattered monsters.

Oh how wrong they were, so terribly terribly wrong.

The floor had collapsed beneath them in the first five minutes, sending them descending down a pit with no certain end. Lute wasn’t sure if the others had landed like he had. He and Wind awoke in what looked like a burial site, hidden deep beneath the temple floors.

Ancient and rundown as the crumbling brick looked, there were no bodies to be found, no tombs to honor. How does a millennia old graveyard, essentially, not have any bodies?

It turns out, to Lute and Wind’s horror, that this temple made very efficient use of their dead.

As security.

Dozens, possibly hundreds, of rotted, half decomposed corpses swarmed them. They bore their teeth like animals, the light in their melted eyes long faded. Fighting as just the two of them would be suicide, running was their only viable option.

Panic sounded in his heart, a pounding alarm telling him he was going to die here, that he would never see his siblings again.

He ignored it, like he always did. He didn’t have the luxury of dying, not when people needed him back home.

Lute continued his dash, skipping from cracked stone to stone, the faint glow of the torches guiding his path. It was taking all of his energy to keep pace with his curse’s current tempo.

He was wandering without direction, the layout of this accursed place a mystery. He’d lost Wind hours ago, having been split up by a surprise ambush of another undead horde. It’d almost resulted in his end, he could still feel the iron grip of a knight’s putrid hands around his collar; how it nearly dragged his struggling, squirming face into its maw of sharded bone.

He survived, of course, he always did.

Always.

Lute focused on the path ahead, his heart plummeting when the sight of a complete dead-end filled his view. Tears welled in his eyes, and volcanic anger swallowed his tongue.

“Not like this, not like this.” Lute said, fuming through gritted teeth.

He was almost at the end now. He focused on the beat of the music, trying to distract himself from the torrent of emotions.

Lute thought of his brothers, how they would survive.

If Time was here; He’d collapse the hoard onto itself, cutting a path to safety by the swing of his claymore.

Four had the colors to rely on, quadrupling his chances of survival.

Legend and Traveler had their magic and items.

And what did Lute have? A few weapons-in-one and a curse.

“HEY, HEEY, LUTE OVER HERE.”

Lute craned his head towards the voice in the darkness, coming from the opposite end of the hallway.

It was Wind, and Sky and Twilight were with him.

Oh thank the goddesses. He might survive this after all.

Lute hit the wall, ice-cold fear surging in his veins.

No matter how fast his brothers were, they couldn’t stop the monsters from devouring him whole.

He was going to have to make his own salvation.

Lute bobbed unsteadily, watching the flood of monsters rush closer. He closed his eyes, leaping forward onto the crowd as the curse’s music hit a crescendo. Lute winced, preparing for the worst--instead finding his boot standing flat on the skull of an undead.

Mentally, he sighed in relief.

From head-to-head, Lute dashed across the monsters that’d given him so much grief, slashing down at their grabbing hands and reaching mouths. He flowed above the crowd in a single, continuous motion, faster than the stride of any giant.

Agility was his to claim, and his to rule. There was nothing that could touch him, not in this moment of burning spontaneity. The fear that'd so terrified him fled from the light of his courage.

He skipped over the last meter of undead, making the process of crowd surfing look as easy as hopscotch. Wind and the others were only a few feet away.

Lute coiled his legs, unfurling them to initiate himself into an aerial roll, somersaulting over and across his projected path.

Wind turned to him with a grin.

“I knew you were gonna be fine, and these guys doubted me.” Wind boasted.

Sky shook his head, beginning his assault as the master sword tore into the skull of his first, unlucky opponent.

“To be fair--I thought he was being chased down by the minotaur.” Sky said.

Twilight chimed in, “Or the hell harpies,” as he too began to tear into the undead.

“The What?” Lute laughed.

“We’ve had a uh..we’ve had a day.” Sky said.

“Understatement of the century there.” Twilight added.

“I’m just glad to see you’re safe. You don’t look too hurt. Are you still good to fight?” Wind asked

“Always.”

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mania-sama · 11 months ago

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rule #29 - throne room

Rule #29 - Throne Room - Fish in a Birdcage

➼ information ❧ Genshin Impact ❧ Pairings: Candace & Kaveh ❧ Tags: ruins collapse, whump, implied/referenced medical experimentation, blood and injury, broken bones ❧ Summary: Kaveh explores Dar al-Shife, the abandoned Eleazar hospital in the Sumeru desert, to gain a better understanding of the structural layout of hospitals in that climate. It doesn't end as well as he hoped. ❧ Word Count: 2,495 ❧ Cross-posted from Archive of Our Own ❧ Original post date: 13 October 2023

➼ whumptober 2023 ❧ Day 13: Crushed ❧ Previous Day ❧ Next Day ❧ Masterlist

As a diligent and thorough architect, Kaveh likes to cover all of his bases before starting on any project. If he wants to build a house, he examines dozens of different styles and draws out a hundred unique layouts. If he wants to erect a tower, he studies lighthouses and skyscrapers. These buildings may come in the form of contemporary or ancient architecture, and Kaveh investigates both with equal vigor and intellect. This way, he can combine the knowledge of all the architects before him and create a new masterpiece with every finished building.

It’s how he finds himself in the ruins of an old hospital in the Sumeru desert, located southeast of Aaru Village and completely abandoned. He’d been commissioned with an extremely generous base supply of mora to build a new hospital in the desert, and with the exploration restrictions lifted by the Akademiya, Kaveh pounced on the opportunity to survey one of the oldest hospitals in Sumeru history

A Matra guard trails behind Kaveh. She shifts uncomfortably as they stop at the entrance of the Dar al-Shifa, by all rights looking like she wants to be a thousand kilometers away from the hospital. Kaveh can’t help but take pity on her; in order to explore the ruins, a scholar must take a Matra member with them for their safety. The ruins are generally unstable and hostile creatures still lurk in the area, ready for their next victim.

Kaveh can protect himself, though. He has a Dendro Vision, a claymore, and years of exploring architecture under even worse structural conditions. So, he offers her the only mercy he can:

“You can wait here and guard the entrance,” he says. She looks at him hesitantly, biting her lip and tensing her shoulders in a speech about how she is required to stay by his side. He pushes on. “If anything happens, which I’m sure nothing will, I will scream for you. The hospital will have an echo, so you’ll hear me clearly. Besides, by standing at the entrance, you’re still doing your job. It’s the equivalent of guarding the outside of a room at night rather than standing directly by the scholar’s bed.”

The last addition manages to convince her, and her body sags with relief that Kaveh would find funny if anxiety wasn’t also curdling his stomach. It’s not the instability that worries him, he knows. It’s the hospital itself.

Dar al-Shifa emits an aura unlike any other abandoned building Kaveh has explored. Just from standing outside of it, unnatural chills make goosebumps rise up and down his arms and neck. The hospital has a driving wind of its own, like the current coming off of the sea at the port. It feels both horrifyingly alive and dead at the same time.

If Kaveh hadn’t been born Kaveh, he would’ve long turned away by now. Instead, he nods his head to the Matra guard in farewell and sets off to study the cold interior of the building. He was asked to build a hospital, and by the Archons he will do it with the Dar al-Shifa as the ancient structural base.

Ruins in particular benefit Kaveh in two ways. He can observe what the architects did right to make the structure look both beautiful and functional, as well as what they did wrong. Where were their calculations wrong? What caused one area to fall apart faster than the rest? What paint did they use to last hundreds upon thousands of years, and where did they find the resources to build their floors, ceilings, and beams?

All of these questions can be found within the hospital of Kaveh only looked. Unfortunately, the uppermost layer appears to be the worst off, with the ceilings falling away and the stucco floor and walls left to dry up and crack in the heat. The hospital is situated in a gloomy corner of the desert, sure, but the burning sun is as inescapable in the desert as water in the ocean. There isn’t much to note about this layer of the ruins other than the fact that Kaveh will need to use the reinforced stucco now more commonly used by modern architects to protect the buildings from cracking in the dry heat.

The stairs leading down to the second floor are as ominous as they can get. He swears he can hear a low whine in the breeze that sounds remarkably human, but it's gone the next second. Kaveh pushes aside his nerves and takes the steps one at a time, careful to not trip over any loose rocks that have been slowly pushed inside over the decades of abandonment.

The second floor is immediately cooler than the first one, though not much darker. Light filters in through the caved-in holes of the first floor, allowing the sun to reach far corners. Kaveh can find separate rooms now, and it's in the third room he explores that he finds the first bed. Maggot and bat-consumed holes dot the mattress. The sheets are brown, unrecognizable from the color they were originally. The frame is all but rotted away.

Kaveh leaves the room as quickly as he came. It’s a useless endeavor, he knows; there will be many more rooms to go, and they will all be necessary if he wants a full scope of what this architecture may have looked like in its prime, and why it's reduced to the flayed shell it is now.

Getting a hold of his nerves, Kaveh forces himself to work through the rest of the floor. Other than the occasional bed and table, there aren’t any artifacts to speak of. Even the insects seem to have left this layer behind. The real challenge, and subsequently more fruitful information, will be in the bottom third and fourth floors. Kaveh finishes his notes with a rising heartbeat, and he descends another set of stairs.

Dar al-Shifa seems to breathe on its own, sending a breeze through Kaveh’s hair even though he’s well below ground level at this point. He’s far from the sand and wind of the surface. It’s more unsettling than he thought it’d be. His hands tremble as he keeps a tight grip on his quiver, and he moves much slower than he had on the previous two floors.

It’s darker, he notes. The sun doesn’t reach this far anymore, and what little makes it through only settles by the stairs. He infuses his Dendro energy with Mehrak and lights the way. For once he’s thankful it cannot experience emotions like humans can. Kaveh wouldn’t want it to feel fear or the creeping dread that a zombified patient would come from the walls to eat him alive.

He jumps at the slightest of sounds, even though he knows logically that zombified patients are not real, and the only known “zombie” in the world is a little girl who can barely remember her own name. There is nothing to be afraid of.

Still, his heart pounds rabbit-fast as he takes notes of the hallways and rooms. His previous assumption about the bottom two layers was correct; fewer people have been brave enough to explore the ruins at this depth, so more artifacts are still present. He finds vials of soured liquids, shattered bottles and vases, medical machinery, and operating tables with the faint impression of dried blood.

Of course, he also finds the carvings on the walls and the notes left behind. He tries to focus on the preservative qualities of the stucco rather than the words themselves, but it’s impossible. He reads their pleas for help, the tick marks of the days going by, the vain scratch marks from insanity, and he feels sick. The faded ink on the papers is almost worse as they detail the “treatments” the Eleazar patients endured. They list names lost to history, long since buried in their righteous graves. At least, he hopes they’ve been buried. It’s the respect they deserve after their years of pain and suffering.

Kaveh manages to push on to the last floor of the hospital. The anxiety gnawing at his skin grows, and he’s nearly overcome with trembles when he reaches the bottom of the stairs. He doesn’t make it two steps in before he hears a tell-tale groan and the crack of stucco breaking apart.

He doesn’t have enough time to escape the falling ceiling. The little distance he makes protects his upper body from the main crash, but his legs still are caught by the debris. He falls onto the floor face-first. The air is knocked completely out of his chest, searing hot pain explodes through his body, and he screams. A hunk of hard, rotting wood lands directly in the small of his back, thwarting the desperate attempt he was making at crawling out from under the stucco, metal, and beams of wood.

His bones must have broken, for every time he so much as twitches, he cries. He can’t take in more than shallow breaths, both from the wood crushing his back and the sobs constricting his lungs. His heart pounds out of fear a piece of broken sternum will pierce the beating organ. His legs are entirely unmoveable. Any attempt at tensing or shifting them sends stabbing pain all over his lower body.

“Sir Kaveh! Are you — Oh my gods! Are you okay?” His Matra guard exclaims in horror. She got to his side in an instant and heaved the wood off of his back. It alleviated only some of his breathing restrictions; his chest is definitely broken, and he can’t quite push himself up with his arms without them immediately failing. “I knew I shouldn’t have left you! This is all my fault! I’m so sorry!”

Kaveh can’t respond to her even as she apologizes over and over for something he urged her to do. She didn’t make the ceiling fall, either. If anything, it was Kaveh walking on it after so many months or years of being undisturbed that caused it to collapse. He knew this going in — he should’ve been better prepared to make a mad dash.

His gasps come in fast and hard, every breath harder than the last. She clears the smaller pieces of debris on his arms and head, but the larger chunks crushing his legs remain stuck in place. Her efforts to move them only made it hurt worse, if that’s even possible. Every time they moved in an inch, electric shocks spasmed his body.

“I need to get help! It’s too heavy and I — I can’t do it on my own. I’ll be right back!” The guard tells him, kneeling to the ground and grabbing his face with her dirty, blood-stained hands. His blood. “Stay alive,” she demands. Then she runs up the stairs quickly as a hare.

He does everything he can to not let her down. He slows his breathing the best he can, and he tries to pinpoint the exact points at which the most weight is bearing down. It only lasts for a while. Most of his time is spent in a pain-induced delirium, thinking about the mistakes he made and the people he left behind.

He imagines Cyno telling a God-awful joke that nobody laughs at, but Kaveh still manages to find humor while underneath the rubble of the ceiling. Faruzan tells him about the various ways to get out of the predicament he’s in, though they all require more energy than he has. Then Tighnari sits down next to him, reminding him to stay awake and breathe.

It feels suspiciously like Death is keeping him company, with the way the hospital’s breath settles over his broken body like a cold hand. His vision swarms, and the same Death that took away the Eleazar patients kindly numbs his broken bones. Head buzzing with overwhelming exhaustion, he lays his head on the ground and stares listlessly at the debris and dust lying in heaps in front of him.

Then Alhaitham pinches his cheeks hard enough to leave bruises. “Do you really think you’re going to die here?”

Kaveh wakes to Hydro overtaking his senses, stuffing his nostrils, and bringing pain back into his body. He gasps, his broken sternum stabbing into his lungs, and his vision sharpens in on golden sandals. The weight on his legs releases with several groans of effort, and he can’t hold back his cries as an entirely new ache settles in his bones.

“I thought I almost lost you,” Candace says, her sweet smile showing through her voice alone. “Thank you for holding out until I could get here.”

Death’s cold embrace is replaced with Candace’s warm hands pulling him clear of the rubble. Hydro flows consistently from her Vision, closing the bleeding wounds from the sharp edges of the debris and binding, to some degree, his broken bones and torn ligaments. That doesn’t mean the process of moving him doesn’t hurt like he’s the sacrifice to a particularly violent deity, but the pain at least reminds him he’s alive.

Candace and the doctors she brought with her set up a temporary camp outside of the hospital grounds while still remaining in the general area. It’s too risky to carry him too far until they have the proper equipment, like a rolling stretcher and splints. She holds his hand when he can, letting him soak up her Hydro energy like a cat does the sun. It’s not a fix-all solution; her healing powers are limited in comparison to the strength she produces.

She was likely the one doing most of the debris removal, too. Kaveh wonders how he was able to make allies with the strongest person in the nation, someone who would come to him in his hour of need without a single complaint on her lips.

“Thank you,” he says when he’s lying down. His chest still aches with every inhale, and his breaths are still too short in comparison to normal breathing, but he needs to say this. He needs to express his gratitude for her saving his life.

Her heterochromatic eyes fix on him, and there is nothing less than comforting warmth in her gaze. “I was only helping a friend. Please, rest. I’m sure you’re in a lot of pain.”

“Whatever I can do,” he wheezes, “to repay this debt. Tell me.”

She smiles at him and crosses her legs on the chair situated at his makeshift bedside. Her hands rest in her lap. “I want you to recover and build our hospital. That is the debt you owe me.”

Kaveh closes his eyes and lets blissful peace wrap over his aching and broken body. It is not Death that keeps him quiet this time. It is the promise of a debt to be paid, a hospital to be built, and friends to heal for. It is Candace’s prevention of Dar al-Shifa’s final attempt to claim one last victim that puts his mind at ease.

#genshin impact #genshin fanfic #kaveh #genshin kaveh #candace #genshin candace #dar al-shifa #genshin dar al-shifa #eleazar #genshin eleazar #ao3 fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #ai less whumptober #whumptober fic #whumptober #whumptober2023

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outcast-thingz · 1 year ago

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Good morning, afternoon, and night! Another update another Blurb. First up, the redemtion codes as always

RS99D5LVTM6V (100 primos 10 mystic enchantment ore)

UBRQC4MCT4PZ (100 primos 5 adventurers exp)

8BQ9CMMVS5PM (100 primos 50,000 mora)

***~Banners~***

Phase 1: Navia & Ayaka (5 stars) Verdict (5 star *weapon*)

Phase 2: Raiden Shogun & Yoimiya (5 star) Chevruse (4 star)

***~Navia~***

-Geo claymore

-**Elemental skill:** shoots multiple shots that pass through opponents dealing Geo DMG

-for a certain amount of time after using skill all attacks will deal increased DMG and be infused with geo *(cannot be overriden)*

-other characters getting shards by making the crystalized reaction Navia gains shrapnel charges that can be consumed using her elemental skill, *the more charges the more powerful*

-**Elemental Burst:** AoE of Geo DMG (rocks raining from above!!!)

-This can also provide shrapnel charges when it hits opponents

-**Passive Talent:**rewards gained will be increased in Fontaine if on a 20 hr expedition

***~Chevruse~***

-Pyro polearm

-**Elemental skill:** uses her musket to fire at opponents during her skill, will provide healing to the active character on the filed for a certain amount of time

-when nearby party members make the overloaded reaction she gains a special ammo which can be consumed during the skill which provides a larger AoE. It provides a buff as well to the pyro and electro peoples in the party

-**Elemental Burst:** fires an explosive grenade which will split into a couple grenades providing a second explosion

-**Passive talent:** Stamina consumption is decreased when she is in your party

***~Events~***

-*Roses and Muskets:* possibly getting a claymore and um.. a shiny tape lookin thing

-Special Defense: you use camera to seeming headshot opponents

-Trick Shots Tricky lights: Domain fighting with special buffs for each lvl when you activate the lights

-Extreme Drive: (you can do it in co-op) chasing around Mekaballs

-Into the Frame: camera shots and film making event

-Arataki Blazing Armor Beetle Boot Camp

-Lost Riches (LITTLE SEELIE BUDDIES RETURN)

-Dance of Resolute Will: combat challenges with two rounds.

-LIBEN RETURNS

***~misc/TCG~***

- Navia story quest

-Raident Secrets, 6 new character cards, 5 mosnter cards, new table design?, more NPCs to play against

-there are a lot of new system updates for convenience

-Fontaine style layout will be added to the teapot you can buy it from Tubby

-some islands will have ponds where you can put fish!

-online genshin concert should be coming soon

#starshine rambles #genshin

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pfpanimes · 2 months ago

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⌕ claymore • galatea.

like or reblog if you save/use. 🤍

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quiltingwitch · 2 years ago

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I do not know if I can sate their hunger.

Progress on my big sword quilt project, each of my designs have been heavily inspired by a historical or classical fantasy reference. The sword on the left side is based on a combination of True Renaissance Two-Handers, or Zweihänder. The middle sword is loosely inspired by a Claymore reference. The sword on the right is inspired by Anduril of Lord of the Rings. Today I’m working on a rapier loosely inspired by Needle of A Song of Ice and Fire.

After I’ve gotten the basics of all my planned swords down I plan to go back through the designs, edit, and add detail. Then I’ll break them down into patterns and work on the quilt layout.

I am using swords as a motif for this quilt because the recipient loves them and owns quite a few replicas. I’ve stared at swords for hours now and really come to appreciate how beautiful they can be, their careful proportioning, the diversity of their designs and functions. The process of making this project has already given me a greater appreciation of my friend’s interest, and my friend. And a great excuse to listen to The Return of the King audiobook.

#i’m the kind of person whose favorite parts of lotr are the appendices #the quilt recipient learned elvish as an independent study project at our high school #so pretty much the same wavelength already tbh #sword lady #swords #quilting #quiltingwitch #foundation paper piecing #fpp #fantasy

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updatecrazy · 1 year ago

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BattleBit update 1.8.1 is available to download on PC players. According to the official BattleBit patch notes, the latest update introduces Party Codes for easier party joining, a Report Player Shortcut, and Stat-Sync Protection. Additionally, BattleBit patch 1.8.1 also includes changes to objective capture zones, gadget limits, map layouts, bug fixes, and improvements. Previously. a minor BattleBit update was released with tweaks and changes. Unfortunetly, since the BattleBit Remastered day one patch, players are experiencing various bug fixes and errors. Today's BattleBit update 1.8.1 will fix a few of these issues. Read more details below. BattleBit Remastered 1.8.1 Patch Notes - July 17, 2023 Party Codes: Players can now join parties without adding each other as Steam Friends. Report Player Shortcut: Left Shift + F1/2/3/4, etc. brings up the report menu for the respective player, without accessing the scoreboard. Stat-Sync Protection: Fixed a rare case where a player's progress would reset if they joined a game server while the player stats servers were being updated. The game server will now prevent players from joining if it fails to fetch their stats to avoid joining with level 0 progress. The backend will no longer save stats of a player if their rank is lower than it was before to prevent intentional progress resets. Objective Capture Zones: Reduced the size of capture areas to provide a tighter and more consistent attack-defend dynamic. Capture areas were adjusted to match the in-game result and prevent areas from being too large. Improved user experience in CONQ and FRONTLINE game modes, making it easier to defend objectives and spawn on them until the enemy enters the capture zone. Placed Gadget Persistence: Limited the number of C4s, mines, claymores, and ammo kits that players can place simultaneously. C4s will be destroyed when a player dies, allowing a maximum of 6 to be placed. Claymores and mines will not be destroyed upon player death, with a maximum of 4 allowed at a time. Domination Ticket System: Reviving players will no longer return tickets. Map and Level Changes: Eduardovo - CONQ 32v32 received a unique layout separate from the 127v127 playable area. Salhan - RU Border extended on the west side to make spawn camping more difficult. Frugis - The last stage of Rush received changes allowing the attacking team to exit from a subway near the enemy spawn. Wakistan - Domination 32v32 layout changed to an east coast line layout, with the old layout moved to 16v16. Map Display: The number of players in enemy vehicles will no longer be shown on the map when they are spotted. Building Placement: Walls now require a half-player-size space margin to avoid clipping with other objects, preventing visual and gameplay issues. Bug Fixes and Improvements: Fixed issues with switching to primary weapon while placing a claymore and throwing a grenade. Fixed friend list loading delay until the party menu was hovered over. Fixed main menu navigation issue caused by avatar images. Fixed broken Progress Bar at the bottom of the screen. Fixed a bug allowing players to walk during the countdown on Frontline. Resolved lag issues while using the Rappelling Rope. Improved spectator camera functionality. Download the free BattleBit Remastered patch 1.8.1 on PC.

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