#i love the new battle mechanics its so fun

[jobbot]

doodled my 3 main skrunklys in yw4

[ghostbeam]

Oblivi_n.exe | Dabi/Touya Todoroki

Touya Todoroki, known as ‘Dabi’ to the league, quirk class: cremation, mech title: Blue. You’re his new handler. 

As Dabi’s new handler, you’re well aware of his history, how frequently he goes through handlers assigned to him. Not that he ever uses them—it’s more complete resistance. You’re not particularly good at your job. Transferred from the PLF for lack of success in handling any of their pilots, you’ve always been far too gentle. You lack authority. Your pilots never respected you. You don’t think Dabi will be any different. You give it a week. 

Notes: okay wow hiiiii it’s been a long time since I’ve posted an actual fic (nearing almost a year now😬) this is something I’ve been working on for a bit. I have mech brain rot curtesy of @streimiv and @hawnks (both of whom this is dedicated to bc there’s no way I could have written this without yapping to them abt it and also mint helped me come up w the acronym for HERO’s) and we’ve all got our own mech fics in the works atm but anywayssssss this is kind of my baby atm but I hope it makes sense it’s very inspired first and foremost by pacific rim and then also NGE (mostly through consumption of YouTube vids bc I haven’t actually watched it pls don’t hate me) it’s a whole mess of things and Dabi is kind of a bitch and reader is slowly coming into herself and at the end of the day they both wanna be metal fused to one another forever (no matter how hard he denies it) also I’m not a huge computer person idk if this title makes sense so don’t make fun of me pls ok anyways I hope u like it!!!!

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, pilot!Dabi x handler!reader, there’s no explicit sexual content in this part, not even a kiss sorry guys, mentions of robot gore (exposed wires, insides described as guts), brief descriptions of being trapped inside a small space, descriptions of burning while inside said space, mention of surgery to fashion a metal jaw onto someone, mentions of child abuse (nothing graphic just allusions to the todoroki family and touya’s past), angst, many run on sentences, a small cliff hanger

Words: 7.9k

Pt. 1 | Pt. 2 (coming soon)

You are nothing without your machine.

It’s the first rule, the first thing beaten into his brain by his father. You carry the burden of the mech alone, or you’re weak. You don’t exist. 

U.A. raises the best and brightest pilots, navigators, mechanics, and handlers, each one carefully trained to ensure the most important outcome: winning. It should be protection. It should be defense. But if Touya has learned anything at all, it’s that winning means glory. It means worship. It means HERO’s (Human Engineered Robotic Objects) are saints, and pilots are gods. 

 Touya used to be one of those best and brightest before his accident. 

First son to Enji Todoroki, Touya was supposed to be the golden child, the first Todoroki to pilot without a handler. He was supposed to carry the burden alone, something his father couldn’t do, something only one man has ever actually been capable of. 

But Touya is born weak, bad bones, a brain unable to handle all that the mech needs to unload onto it. One too many accidents results in him being expelled from the pilot program, his HERO discarded and collecting dust in its pod, and Touya is promptly transferred to mechanics. 

It should have been a smooth transition. If one kid can’t handle it, the next will. Because they have to. 

He doesn’t take the news well. It’s a fit of tears, a persistent fight, unable to accept the loss of his machine—of his body. Because Touya loves it. What he lacks in strength, he makes up for in pure passion, and despite being unable to handle the burden, there’s no denying that he’s good. He’s almost perfect. 

But almost is not enough for Enji Todoroki, and no matter how hard Touya tries, he’s made up his mind. 

After months of mechanics, Touya makes a decision. When the next fleet of HERO’s is deployed for the next kaiju battle, Touya sneaks in among the chaos, tucked neatly inside the chest of his machine where he belongs. It doesn’t take long for things to go south, for Touya to get caught in the crossfire, losing control of his mech and burning from the inside out. 

It should be an excruciating death, stuck inside a machine made for war, fire raining from above as a battle continues on outside without him. 

But he survives, because what he lacks in strength, he makes up for in resilience, and his mech is programed with solutions to every situation. He’s stuck inside for months before he’s found.

Tomura Shigaraki rescues him, pries open the chest of his mech and pulls him from inside. His group feeds him, takes him in, fashions a new jaw for him made from the metal of his mech, and allows him the decision to join their cause or go back home. 

And since there’s no home to go back to, Touya finds his footing with the league and becomes one of their top pilots. One who vehemently resists any and all handlers.

…

Touya Todoroki, known as ‘Dabi’ to the league, quirk class: cremation, mech title: Blue. You’re his new handler. 

As Dabi’s new handler, you’re well aware of his history, how frequently he goes through handlers assigned to him. Not that he ever uses them—it’s more complete resistance. You’re not particularly good at your job. Transferred from the PLF for lack of success in handling any of their pilots, you’ve always been far too gentle. You lack authority. Your pilots never respected you. You don’t think Dabi will be any different. You give it a week. 

Following closely behind Tenko, formerly Tomura, he quickly explains to you the in’s and out’s of the pilot/handler relationship, along with a warning about Dabi’s resentment toward the whole idea. You try to keep up, but he talks quickly and uses his hands a lot. Even so, you can tell he’s a natural leader, something he had to grow into after overthrowing the man who raised him. His story is a tragic one, and it resonates with you because Tenko came out the other side stronger. Now, the league is a community with a cause, one you really believe in. Even if you and Dabi aren’t the right fit, you still have a place here. 

You follow Tenko into what he calls the garage, a large floor of the abandoned academy that serves as the league’s base, this part of it full of HERO’s and mechanics all focused on the machines in front of them. It’s completely different from how HERO’s were worked on at UA, where you grew up, and even the PLF didn’t have one dedicated floor to this sort of work. You can feel the energy of the room buzzing on your skin, music blasting from old radios and mechanics tossing tools towards one another in a familiar routine. Tomura leads you to Dabi and his HERO, Blue, though you’re instructed not to call it a HERO around him. With goggles over his eyes and gloved hands, he brings two wires from Blue’s ankle together, sighing at the way they spark each time they connect. 

“Dabi.” Tomura calls over the music coming from the radio hanging off of Dabi’s waist. He drops the wires and his gaze flickers toward the two of you. Pushing his goggles up to his forehead, he gives you a once over. His eyes are the brightest you’ve ever seen—kaiju blood blue—and burn scars litter his body. He’s striking in a way you’ve never seen, almost too beautiful to be human. Giving Dabi your name, Tomura explains that you’re taking over as his handler, seeing as he couldn’t keep the last one for more than a couple of days. “She’s your last handler. If you can’t keep this one, then go ahead and fry your brain. See if I care.”

“You say that every time.” Dabi calls from around sucker as Tomura walks away, leaving you alone with your new pilot. 

You just your hand out in a greeting, “I’m looking forward to working with you.”

Eyeing your hand, Dabi shakes his head and turns his back to you, picking the two wires back up and connecting them again, despite the same spark from before igniting between the two. He looks back up at Blue, touching his fingers to the slim lines starting at the back of her ankle and running all the way up her leg. You peak over his shoulder at the wiring, noticing that he’s connecting two of the wrong ones. 

“It’s the wrong wire.” You tell him, and he spins around to look at you, tearing his goggles from his face as he scoffs. 

“Here we go.” He sighs with a roll of his eyes, pulling the candy from his lips and tossing it onto the tool cart without a care. “Handler know-it-all bullshit. This is my mech.”  

You push passed him and grab the similarly colored wire from beside a red wire and connect it with the one in Dabi’s right hand. Blue lights up cyan through the thin lines that run along each of its limbs and torso, connecting with the two cameras within its head, which seem to blink before the light reaches them. 

In an instant, you’re being pushed up against the hard metal, a strong arm over your chest—pinning you up against the HERO. Dabi, now having discarded his goggles, looks at you full of white, hot rage. 

“Don’t fucking touch her.” He growls. You’re suddenly aware of the close proximity, eyes flickering between the snarl across his lips and his angry gaze. For a beat, you both freeze, the air suddenly charged like you’re waiting for one another to strike. Snapping yourself out of his hypnotic stare, you push against his chest, forcing him to let you go. 

“If I’m going to be you’re handler, you’re going to have to trust me with her.” You remind him. He lets out a harsh laugh, like he can’t believe you would suggest such a ridiculous idea. 

“I don’t trust anything but this machine.” He speaks, turning away from you to seal up the machine’s exposed wires. It’s a challenge you’re willing to accept.

“Well, I’m here to change that.” You tell him, before turning on your heel to leave him alone. 

He thinks he’ll give you a week. 

…

One of the worst parts of being assigned a handler, Touya thinks, is the way that pilot/handler living quarters are set up. He assumes the academy, before it was abandoned and turned into a base for the league, created this sort of set up so that handlers could keep a close eye on their pilots. The handlers Touya has burned through up until now also assumed the same. 

The door that connects both the pilot’s and handler’s dorms doesn’t lock, and all of Touya’s past handlers have taken advantage of this fact. He’s been pulled out of bed far too early, pushed around and commanded and barked at. Most handlers behaved as if pilots belonged to them, which was the sentiment drilled into their brains from being thrown into such a fucked up system at a young age.—unless you were a pilot of status like a Todoroki. While he league dedicates a lot of its time to reversing these ideas, most handlers look at Touya like some kind of challenge, this arrogant pilot begging to be tamed. It never takes long for them to realize how easily he’s able to flip the switch on them. You’ll be no different.

But hours pass and you still haven’t entered. You don’t swing the door open and demand he apologize for his behavior earlier. You don’t try and punish him with training regimes, a command of a set of push ups, a schedule you expect him to follow, an extremely detailed meal plan. The entire evening comes and goes without so much as a sound on the other side of the door so he knows you’re even behind it. 

He falls asleep unnerved by this, waking up late into the night in a cold sweat, expecting you to barge in, rip the covers from his body and demand to train together. When he wakes up (peacefully) the next morning, there’s no sign of you. He rises from his bed, drinks orange juice straight from the carton and eats a candy bar for breakfast. He fiddles with the navigation screen from his mech that stopped working a couple of days ago, tools spread out on the counter in front of him. Once he’s got the thing working again, your knock sounds from the unlocked door between the two of you. He thinks this might be it, the commands he expects to fall from your lips at the ready as he swings the door open, but you stand there, nervous, hands twitching as your eyes finally meet his.

Greeted by a shirtless Touya, hair mused from sleep, cargo pants hung low on his hips, dog tags swinging against his chest, his scars on display, unashamed and proud. The sight of him knocks the breath out of you, and you clear your throat in embarrassment, hoping your state of dreaming comes off as nerves rather than lust. 

“Dabi. Or do you prefer Touya?” You smile. When he doesn’t answer, you continue. “I wanted to see if you wanted to eat breakfast together in the caf. I think we should start over. Yesterday was—”

You’re promptly cut off, “I already ate breakfast.”

With a harsh slam of the door, he leaves you stunned in your room.

You eat alone. 

When you started as a pilot, back when you’d entered UA (a few years about Touya’s accident), you went into it believing you could change the world. The exam had placed you into the position of handler, and you were assigned a pilot who had always seemed a little frightened of you despite your obvious lack of authority. Bringing the fact up to your instructors did nothing. They all assured you that this was the ideal dynamic, that the handler always had the upper hand, but you hated that feeling. You weren’t a team like you expected to be; you were urged to control your pilot. You were there to keep them in line, not to be a pillar of support. The bond was never built on trust, and the soul link was always a looming threat. No matter how many pilots you went through, the link was never held as a gift, but a prison, something you would both be stuck with for the betterment of society, a sacrifice to make. 

You’d been expelled from the handler program after guiding your pilot to help save another in the wreckage of your first battle together, resulting in the damage of your pilot’s HERO. Your pilot was okay, but the other couldn’t be saved, and you were blamed for the damage of both mech’s. 

When you found the league (or when the league found you), you were working with the PLF, but proved to be a weak handler. Every pilot you were assigned to took advantage of your optimistic outlook on the kind of relationship dynamic that pilots had with their handlers. Despite all that you had been through at UA, and with the rest of the pilots you’d been paired with after, you never gave up the hope that handlers and pilots could behave as a team, or, even better, one entity. 

Tenko had taken one look at you and demanded you’d be transferred to the league. There hadn’t been much of a choice in the matter, not that you really cared. You were miserable everywhere else. But when you arrived at the abandoned academy and taken a peak behind the kudzu covered walls where each and every area of the building acted as multiple moving parts in collaboration with one another in order to create one massive system, you realized that this was the future you imagined for yourself—and for the world you lived in.

Tenko saw something in you that day, something you aren’t sure you even see in yourself. And so Dabi was your first task, one that’s proving to be very difficult. But he doesn’t treat you like all the other pilots before had. He doesn’t use you. In fact, it seems like he wants nothing to do with you. And while that’s a problem, it’s still one you can work with. 

You’re broken from your thoughts by the sound of a voice through an overhead intercom asking for everyone to meet on the first floor of the academy at their earliest convenience. Judging by the quick movements of those around you, you figure you’d better head downstairs as soon as possible. 

The meeting on the first floor makes you very aware of just how small the league really is. While it’s definitely not a tiny organization, it’s still much smaller than both UA and the PLF. With everyone piled up like this in one group, you realize it feels more like a community, and the hum of conversation that surrounds you comforts you in a way you’ve never felt within the walls of any other academy before. 

There’s discussion about the upcoming mission, one which may be the league’s most ambitious yet; the plan to hijack a mech and kidnap a pilot may be a little unorthodox compared to the league’s past missions, but the jaded pilot they’re targeting has a high chance of joining the cause. Or that’s what they have assumed. As the bodies move and speak around you, it strikes you how different this meeting is from any other meeting you’ve ever been a part of. Tenko is less a dictator and more a wrangler for the disembodied voices of your peers. 

You don’t know much about his story, save for the vague details you’ve heard, but Tenko’s status as a lone handler is something you find yourself curious about. If he’s able to work without a pilot, why can’t you? It’s an idea you keep in your back pocket, one you think you can fall back on if things with Touya don’t work out. But you want them to work out. So badly. 

You aren’t sure what it is about him, but he’s reignited that spark inside of you. You know he’d rather you give up, and maybe the you from a couple of months ago would have, but something about him—and this place—won’t let you leave. 

As you observe the meeting, you take the time to look around the room, taking in your peers and their attentive faces as they listen to Tenko intently. You turn to your right, your eyes meeting a pair of blue ones, impossible to miss. Dabi holds your stare for what feels like ages, and when your colleagues erupt in a fit of many simultaneous discussions, you tear your eyes from his to observe the commotion. When you glance back in his direction, he’s gone. 

You don’t seem him again after that. You train with other handlers, get to know your peers a little better. Everyone else seems to be welcoming, and most offer you sympathy when they find out you’re Touya’s new handler. From what you can gather, he’s had his fair share of them, all of which have quit or left in hysterics due to his harsh nature. When you ask around about where he could be, you’re told that he’s most likely in the garage, a place you assume he’s in more often than not.

You don’t know if you’ll ever get used to the garage. A place so completely different, so against the ideas and beliefs of any other academy you’ve been a part of, the chaos and community within is so foreign to you. You find Touya with Blue, working inside of her chest, where the cockpit is. 

“Touya!” You call up to him and watch as he peaks his head over the edge of her metal plating. Annoyance falling across his face, he jumps down from where he stands, landing hard on his feet in front of you. 

“What are you doing here?” He questions, his figure so tall and imposing above you. He’s not particularly muscular, not even all that tall compared to Tenko, but he makes you feel small regardless, in more ways than one. Rolling your shoulders back, you stare straight into his eyes, unwilling to back down. 

“I figured you wanted your space today.” You explain, as Touya moves around you to get to his rolling cart of tools, forcing you to turn toward him and follow him if you want him to hear you. “I know adjusting to a new handler is rough, and I never want to make you uncomfortable. But I was thinking we could try some of those pilot/handler bonding exercises. It might be good to start training like some of the others do.”

He drops the wrench in his hand onto his cart with a loud thud, turning around toward you with a look of disbelief on his face. “Pilot/handler bonding exercises? They really brainwashed the shit out of you at UA, huh?”

At the mention of your past academy, your eyes widen in surprise. You had no idea he knew about that. Clearing your throat in order to compose yourself, you speak again, “I left UA for a reason. I have no attachment to their methods, but you guys do the same stuff here, so what’s the issue?”

“The issue is that I never asked for a fucking handler in the first place, especially not one as eager as you.” He spits, “Sure, you’re understanding now, all that bullshit about ‘giving me space,’ but the moment you get a lick of power over me, you’ll change. You’re not different.”

“I don’t want power over you. This is an equal exchange. Pilot’s and handlers are meant to be a team—” You try and argue, but he doesn’t let you finish. 

“That’s what they told you, right? We’re a team, and as teammates, you make sacrifices. And it doesn’t matter if one of you turns into the other’s braindead dog because that’s your place.” His words hit you hard, the exact thought process you went through when leaving UA, completely disillusioned with their idea of “teamwork.” He’s right, and you know it, but since coming here, you thought that wasn’t how it had to be.

“Look, trust me, I get—” You’re cut off again.

“You went to UA! There’s no trusting you.” He scoffs, “It’s not like you’ll last here, anyway.”

“You are such a hypocrite! You’re from UA!” You retort, throwing your arms up in desperation. “You can hate me all you want. You can resist and resist and fry your brain ‘till there’s nothing left, but I believe in this shit. And you don’t get to tell me that I don’t, or tell me I’ll turn into something I worked so hard to get away from.”

Touya stands there, surprised by your outburst, completely unaware that you were capable of all of that. He doesn’t say anything back, and you roll your eyes. “So fuck you, and, by the way, her angel port is smoking.”

At your words, he turns in a rush, seeing the smoke billowing from Blue’s chest as he climbs his way up her form. Once inside his machine, he extinguishes the port and allows himself to relax. There are two things on his mind in this moment: how you could have possibly known it was the angel port without being inside of Blue’s chest and how, for the first time in a long time, he feels bad for his handler.

But for you, it’s the first time you’ve ever held your own against a pilot before, and that feels good.

…

Something feels weird.

Off, unsettling, strange.

He realizes, much to his dismay, that it’s your absence. Despite only having you around for such a short time, Touya has realized that your lack of presence now feels wrong. He hates it. He hates you. 

He can’t find you. You haven’t knocked on his door. You’re not in the caf, not the garage, not the sparring floor, not in your room. And he did check—without knocking. 

He’s not even sure how he can feel an absence. You aren’t a regular part of his life, and he never wanted you to be. But he feels all fucked up.

During training, Touya jams Blue’s halo core and she leaks vibrant neon from between her ribs. It takes him half an hour to get her reboot her system and rips one of the cables attached to the back of his suit in the process. He spends the afternoon cleaning HERO fluid off the sparring floor. 

During repairs, he shocks himself over and over while trying to fix her core, fingers burning from the sparks each time he arranges the wires inside. The cameras in her eyes won’t work from the reboot, and Blue won’t let him unlock the lens panel to fix it. It’s almost like she’s mad at him too.

He’s a complete mess. It’s your fault. He has no choice but to go looking for you. Again.

He searches every wing of the academy before concluding that you’re in your room. He barges through the joint door, spotting you at the counter in your tiny kitchen. You’re surprised by the intrusion, a frightened gasp falling from your lips as you jump in your seat. You turn toward him, prepared with angry words on your tongue, but Touya speaks first.

“You’re not getting an apology out of me, so don’t expect it.” He begins, moving to stand in front of your swiveling kitchen stool as he looks down at you. “But I’m willing to be civil with you, so we don’t have to do this shit anymore.”

You’re not exactly sure what “this shit” is, but Touya looks a little worse for wear at the moment, so you don’t question it. He places a tray from the caf down in front of you that you hadn’t noticed in his hands upon arrival, says nothing else, and turns to leave the room. After shutting your joint door, you look down at the tray of food, noticing one of his suckers placed onto a vacant compartment of the tray. 

You’re greeted the next morning with a knock on your door, Touya dressed in his pilot’s suit on the other side as you swing the door open. “C’mon. You’re gonna watch me train today.”

You watch him turn around to leave, expecting you to follow. You rush to pull on your combat boots and grip your dog tags in your fist as you rush to catch up to him. He doesn’t spare you a glance as you fall into step beside him, taking a look around his dorm before he leads you through the exit door. 

“You need to get a feel for my fighting style.” He explains as you walk down the corridor. “I’m not saying I’ll listen to you when it comes down to it, but it’s important for you to know.”

You nod, agreeing that you should definitely observe him inside of his HERO. By understanding his moves, you’ll be able to understand the way he thinks, and you’ll be able to help him in actual combat if needed. He’s already said he won’t listen to you, but it won’t stop you from trying. He stops abruptly, turning to look at you, and you stop with him. 

“If we’re gonna do this, it’ll be on my terms. I’m not your dog.” He tells you, seriously. He eye’s you up and down, taking in your expression as you nod at his words. “If anything, you’re mine.”

He begins walking again, leaving you in your spot, irritation filling your chest as you watch him, smug. “Asshole.” You curse under your breath.

“What’d you say?” He barks, turning to look at you abruptly.

“You’re an asshole.” You speak louder. He walks back toward you, making sure to tower over you intimidatingly as he looks down at you in annoyance. His eyes flicker down to the tags around your neck before hooking a finger on the chain and pulling you closer. 

“Watch it.” He drops the chain and walks away again. 

You follow him to the sparring floor, and he shows you where to go to watch. Stood behind a large window that looks over the sparring area, other members of the base watch the HERO’s engage in combat below. You spot Tenko and he motions for you to stand beside him. 

“I knew he’d warm up to you.” He comments. The last of the previous battle finishes and you watch the two enormous machines retreat to the sides of the area, their pilots emerging from their chests with their handlers rushing to the bottom of the mech’s in support. 

“He hasn’t. He’s not.” You shake your head. You aren’t sure why you deny it, if it’s some way to keep your expectations low or if there’s some kind of embarrassment aspect to the whole thing. Whatever is happening between you and Touya feels intimate and private, something that the two of you need to figure out for yourselves, not something meant for the eyes of others.

“Hm. Okay.” Tenko shrugs. “Guess not.”

You hadn’t noticed Touya enter his mech at all. You see the swing of one giant mechanic arm, too close to the window you stand behind, and you’ve shifted your full attention to the scene at hand. 

The enormity of the room surprises you, despite the fact that you had seen it just moments before. But when you’re truly looking at it, watching these huge machines go at each other, the way the ground shakes, the leaves outside shake, the deep forrest clear in view from the wall that opens out to the greenery (the lack of a wall is likely from the academy’s abandoned state, but it’s a good feature to have on the sparring floor when giant robots are toppled over onto various surfaces).

The way Blue moves is electric, mechanic movements almost feel fluid with the way that Touya pilots her, easily dodging attacks from their opponent and moving around them in the most graceful way a giant machine can. It’s beautiful, unlike any fighting style you’ve ever seen in a HERO before. 

“He’s showing off for you.” Tenko observes from beside you. You don’t argue with him, only because you can’t dispute it. This is your first time seeing him in action. It makes your heart beat out of your chest. There’s this ache like you should be inside with him, cables connected to both of you, tucked neatly inside of Blue together. 

It doesn’t take him long to get his opponent on their back, the heavy thump against the floor jostling the ant-like figures on the ground below, handlers waiting for their pilots to finish. It goes on like this for a while, his training, using different methods of combat and winning each time. He’s amazing, and you can tell why his reputation is the way it is, second only to Tenko, who you have yet to see in action. 

When he finishes his last session, you watch Blue walk to the edge of the room, and Touya emerges from her chest, jumping the long way down her body without any issue. You watch as he looks toward the window you’re behind. He waves at you, an acknowledgment of your presence, and you wave back, though you aren’t sure he can actually see you.

It’s the beginning of everything for the two of you. You think Tenko was right.

He lets you stay with him afterwards while he does maintenance on Blue. He helps you climb up the path to her chest, hauling you over the edge to sit inside with him. He turns around abruptly, holding a hand up before allowing you to walk any further.

“Do not touch anything.” He warns, completely serious, before letting his hand fall and allowing you further into the cockpit. You take in your surroundings, the guts of his machine, analyzing the different control panels and screens that line the interior. You can tell he takes good care of her, and he spends a lot of time in here. It looks lived in, stickers stuck to metal plating and pieces of him all over. He’s made a second home in between the ribs of his mech. You feel a little jealous, though you aren’t sure of what. 

The two of you sit against the left side of Blue’s interior, waiting for her updates to finish, the loading screen on each of her monitors display a fire graphic that grows with the increasing percentage on screen. Between you and Touya sits an opened bag of sour gummies, which Touya picks out the lemon flavor and drops the candy in your palm with each new handful he gathers. 

“How do you know all this stuff?” He questions around a mouthful of sour cherry, “Like, the real names for things, where stuff goes, how to fix them. That day with the wires…”

“I spent a lot of time around mechanics at UA, and then also at the PLF.” You explain, picking the yellow colored candy from his open palm as you speak. “I couldn’t connect with other handlers. I didn’t like how they thought, or how they viewed the pilot/handler relationship. Mechanics were mostly neutral, and they loved these machines like nothing else. They reminded me of why I joined UA in the first place.”

“Hm.” He nods, thinking about your past. “Well, I guess if you spent so much time around actual professionals…I could maybe use your help sometimes in the garage.”

“Really?” You question excitedly, a spark lighting up your eyes as you swerve your head toward him. He feels something tight in his chest at the sight.

“Yes, but only on the outside. I don’t want you messing with her insides, yet.” He establishes. “And never alone. I have to be there at all times.”

“Of course, yes, oh my god. Touya!” You smile, gripping his shoulder firmly, a gesture of thanks, communication of how much his trust means to you. “I’ll be so careful with her, I promise.”

“Yeah, well, you have no other choice.” He shrugs, throwing another pile of candy in his mouth. “I’ll kill you if anything happens to her.”

You take the threat seriously, but his heart isn’t in it. He’s realized that you’ve wormed your way into his life and he hadn’t even noticed just how entangled you were now. 

As the weeks go by, you spend a lot more time together. You work on blue together, and you rest inside of her chest, sometimes allowing yourself to drift off against his shoulder on especially tiring days. He sits beside you in the caf, and while he doesn’t always say much, the feeling of his arm against yours is comforting. You can tell people are starting to notice, and they’re starting to talk. You’re being dubbed someone who’s tamed him, but you know how far from the truth that is. 

Despite your differences and the petty arguments that come up when Touya feels like you’re intruding on his independence, you’re growing attached. You wonder if he is, too.

…

Spending time together in the garage becomes the new normal for the two of you. Being in each other’s dorms feels far too intimate, so you always meet in the garage. This way, one of you is always busy doing something with your hands. There’s no room for any strange feelings in the pit of your stomach to seep in. 

You sit in the crook of Blue’s neck, watching Touya as he repairs the lenses in her “eyes.” Blue has three pairs of eyes; in her head, her chest, and down near her hips, which all footage is projected onto monitors inside the cockpit so that Touya has a full view of what’s in front of him. 

He’s so peaceful while he works, you’ve noticed, almost like he goes somewhere else completely. It’s a part of him you don’t think many people get to see, a piece of him just for you, and you want to be selfish with it.

“Can I ask you something?” You question, leaning your head back against the metal. “But you can’t get mad.”

He looks up at you, still fiddling with a lens, a mocking look on his face. “I’m not making any promises.”

You take a deep breath, preparing yourself for the possible fallout of the question you’re about to ask, “What do you think about the soul link?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I’d never do it.”

You nod your head in understanding, “yeah, I get it. It’s weird, right? The idea that someone else would be inside your brain.”

“It’s fucking invasive.” He says.

“You know, at UA it always felt like a threat, you know. Like, it was a way for a handler to control their pilot, not a tool or a bond like it should be.” You begin, thinking back to how you viewed the soul link back then. You didn’t like how the bond was presented as this power that a handler holds over their pilot, a threat to keep their pilot in line. But, you could understand how the link could be used for good. “But since coming here, I can tell it’s not all bad. People trust each other here. I mean, there’s obviously some people who abuse it, but, for the most part, everyone seems to understand what it really means to be a pilot and a handler.”

You’re mostly just thinking out loud, but Touya doesn’t say anything to your ramblings. He continues to work on the lenses, and you can gather that he doesn’t want to talk about the subject anymore. But you can’t let it go, yet. There’s something you’ve been worried about since you met him.

“And what about…your brain? They say when a handler and a pilot don’t complete the soul link, the pilot will eventually fry their brain.” You can’t help it. You think about it all the time, what will happen when he can’t take it anymore. The closer you get to him, the realer it feels. “Are you ever worried about that?”

He looks at you, an expression you can’t quite make out fall across his face as he stares. It’s almost soft, the way he looks at you in this moment. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

The truth is, this is a reality Touya has accepted. He’s not afraid to die, and he never has been. He’ll probably die inside of Blue, and he has no problem with that fact. He doesn’t need to be around for long, just enough to show his dad what he’s capable of.

“C’mon.” You stare. “That’s not fair.”

“Shit. I left some of the screws for this in my dorm.” He curses. He looks where you lounge, tucked into Blue’s shoulder. “Keep an eye on her, okay?”

You watch him jump down, much higher than his usual height at her chest, but he lands anyway. He doesn’t turn to look back at you as he jogs away. You climb up the side of Blue, and look at the lenses in her head. They’re already repaired, and you know Touya used the excuse of missing screw just so he wouldn’t have to talk about the soul link.

But it’s the first time he’s ever left you alone with Blue before. 

…

As the mission draws closer, Touya throws himself into training. You’re on the training floor with him most days, standing behind that big glass panel as you watch him spar with his peers. He still doesn’t let you down on the floor with him until he’s full out of Blue and close enough to the edge of the sparring floor to get to you. You’re not allowed in the actual training area, and even though he says he doesn’t want you clinging to him, it’s really because he wants to keep you safe. Seeing your human body near the giant machines that are HERO’s makes him want to grab you and keep you inside of Blue’s chest forever. 

You can tell all the training is taking a toll on him. With an excess of headaches and the occasional nosebleed, you continuously get into arguments about him cutting back on training inside of Blue. There are other ways for him to prepare that don’t involve his fragile brain being hooked up to an entity that takes so much. He doesn’t listen.

Later and later into the night, as your fellow pilots and handlers disperse and return to their rooms to sleep, Touya stays inside of Blue, testing her movements and sparring against test dummies and obstacles. Once you and Touya are the only two left on the sparring floor, you speak into the intercom attached to your head.

“Touya, I think you should take a break.” You tell him, “It’s late. Get some rest and then we can pick it back up in the morning.”

There’s a pause, then, “I’m gonna stay for another hour. Get some sleep. I’ll be done soon.”

“No, Touya. You’ve been at it for hours. You barely took a break for dinner. C’mon.” 

“You know, you sound awfully like a handler trying to tell their pilot what to do.” He teases, but you can hear the irritation in his voice.

“You are insufferable. I’m worried about you.” You groan.

“I’m fine. Go sleep.” He insists.

“If I find out you aren’t out of here in an hour—” Your line is promptly cut off, leaving behind static in your ear. You sigh and throw your com to the side. You hope he’s telling the truth.

With one last look at Blue, you make your way out of the training floor and find your way back to your dorm. 

Touya doesn’t answer the door when you knock the next morning. With a frustrated groan, you leave your dorm and head to the training floor, assuming he woke up early to get some extra hours in. The closer you get the the floor, you notice other members of the base rushing in front of you. Feeling panicked, you pick up the pace, jogging toward the training room to make sure something isn’t wrong. You collide with a body in front of you, nearly falling to the floor as you steady yourself. Toga stands in front of you, her cheeks red and eyes glossy as she explains something your mind can’t catch up to understand. The only thing you recognize is his name, and you’re running toward the training floor in an instant. 

You watch as Blue stomps around the area, her arms swinging in all directions, losing her footing as she moves. Knowing you can’t do anything on the floor, you make your way up to the overlook, finding Tenko yelling into your intercom. 

“What’s going on? What’s happening?” You ask him, pulling the headset off of his head and placing it on yours instead. 

“He’s out of fucking control. He won’t answer. I don’t even think he’s conscious in there.” He tells you, running a hand through his hair, pulling at the roots in anxiety. “You’re not linked yet, are you?”

You shake your head, closing your eyes in frustration as you try to think. You know it’s the only way. You have to take some of the burden off of him, make him share it with you. It’s the only way he’ll survive right now. “Do you think you can get into Decay right now and knock him down somehow?”

He hesitates, “I can get inside. I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to touch him at all.”

“You have to.” You plead, desperately. “I just need him down for ten seconds, tops. As long as I can get inside of her, I can save him.”

He looks at you like you’re insane, and maybe you are. But you know you can’t live with yourself if you don’t try something. Tenko nods.

“I can do it.” He tells you. You rush passed him, following the stairs down to the training area. You feel Tenk grab your wrist firmly. “You bring him back, okay?”

“I will.” You nod. 

He dodges Blue’s movements, weaving between her legs as he finally makes it to Decay. It takes a few moments for him to connect, but he goes straight for Blue. You watch the giant machines fight one another, but it’s clear that Blue’s lack of control hinders much of her ability. She needs Touya just as much as he needs her. It’s tough for Decay to dodge her swinging arms, but Tenko manages to knock her down quickly.

The fall shakes the room, but you waste no time running for Blue. Climbing over the side of her, you manage to touch your thumb to the pad on the outside to open her chest up. She begins to stand up, and you slip down, grabbing onto a bar beneath her ribcage. You let out a frustrated groan as you try to pull yourself up over the edge of the cockpit. Finally making it over, you see Touya sitting there, still connected to his pilot’s chair, eyes glazed over and blood gushing from his nose. You push the button that closes the panel in Blue’s chest, and you’re suddenly alone with him. 

Touya’s body is being jerked around by the movement of the mech, and you hang onto the walls of her chest in order to make your way to him. You situate yourself in his lap, taking his head in your hands as you look at him with tears in your eyes.

“You fucking asshole! I told you to take a break.” You sob, resting your head against his as you try and think of what to do next. “Touya, please. Please, baby, I need to you come back. Just fucking come back so I don’t have to do this without your permission, please.”

With no response from him, you wipe your tears, coming to terms with the fact that you have to complete the soul link now, or he’ll die. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, Touya. Please forgive me.”

The soul link isn’t exactly an action so much as it is a feeling, an experience. There’s no trigger for it, no way to make it happen. It just begins. 

It’s Touya, aged thirteen, wild, chubby-cheeked and happy, in the pilot’s seat of his father’s HERO. It’s his drive, his determination, his anger, his hurt. It’s the day he snuck into battle, the day he couldn’t get out, flesh burning and fusing to the metal walls of his mech, the feeling now deep in your skin. It’s you, aged fifteen, hopeful, alive, shaking hands with your first pilot. It’s your heart, much too big and much too open for your line of work, it’s your passion, your fire, every piece of you that was broken down again and again until there was nothing left. It’s Touya and it’s you, and every single bit of your souls now tied together in one big knot. 

There’s nothing but darkness. And then there’s screaming. And then you can hear everything. Every thought running through Touya’s brain right now echoes in your head as you slowly come back to yourself. He can hear the same of yours.

It’s overwhelming at first, to have two sets of thoughts in your head at the same time, but you manage to focus. You can feel an anger inside of you like you’ve never felt. It’s almost like it’s your own. You need to come back. You’ve lost control of Blue.

In an instant, you feel yourself come back to your body, now straddling Touya like before, you feel his arms shoot around you and he tucks his chin over your shoulder to pilot Blue like he’s used to doing. He pays no mind as he presses up against you, but you feel your heart rate increase at the closeness. 

He’s so close.

I have to be. You’re in my lap.

Shit. I didn’t think—

Clearly.

I can’t fucking believe you. I told you we weren’t going to do this.

You were dying!

Then you fucking let me!

You’re jostled around in his lap for a moment as he stops Blue from destroying any more of the training floor, and Touya wraps an arm around your waist, holding you steady.

He gains control of her quickly, moving her toward the edge of the room. You tuck your face into his neck, not wanting to distract him and keeping your thoughts at bay so you don’t overwhelm him. He powers Blue down, severing the neural connection between the two of you, and shoves you from his lap and into the pilot’s chair like you’ve burned him. He storms out of the cockpit, climbing out of his machine and leaving you inside. You think about the argument you had within each other’s head, how Touya would have rather died than be linked to you like he is now. 

You slump against the seat, comforted by the metal cage you’ve been left inside of. 

[miscellaneous-marios]

Play Mario & Luigi: Brothership

I promise this will be my only post like this and funnie pictures will continue as normal right after this one, but I need to tell as many people as I possibly can about M&L Brothership (without spoilers)

This. Game. Is. A. Masterpiece.

This game helped me remember what video games AS A WHOLE mean to me.

To say this game has a ton of love put into is an understatement. Every single aspect of this game, it feels like everyone behind it truly cared about this project and gave it their all. Gameplay wise its a ton of fun, super polished and the battles are so satisfying I never get bored of em. Story wise, I havent gotten this emotional about a games plot since Super Paper Mario. They do an extremely good job at making you care about every single character you come across. Even simple, one-time NPCs have more thought put into than you'd expect. There are so many fantastic characters both design wise and personality wise. Theres tons of new enemies especially late game and they have complex movement sets that actually change depending what other enemies are around it. Even bowsers minions have very creative moves. For instance, shy guy has a move based on the flag game in mario party, and true to their name they will look nervous when trying to attack you. It feels like the people who made this game have loved mario all their lives and its a breath of fresh air.

The game may appear a little slow at first, but it keeps on introducing fun new mechanics that keep it fresh the entire way through. Despite what some reviewers say (fuck you very much IGN) it is NOT tutorial heavy. In fact its almost the opposite. This game trusts its players to figure out a LOT of stuff on their own. They dont stop you in the middle of big boss fights to make you practice incoming attacks, you learn with trial and error. They'll do some tutorials here n there in the first few levels but after the first lighthouse you're pretty much let free. And let me tell you, the game gets VERY challenging. Some of the attacks can be brutal!!! And if challenge isnt your thing, they let you change the difficulty after dying a couple times.

Oh, and I wont spoil anything, but the story gets like, Majoras Mask levels of dark in the late game. It even gets kinda straight up disturbing. It's nuts.

Play this game. Please!!!!

[blueskittlesart]

pleeease give a review for infinity nikki ive been thinking about downloading it but i dont know if i have the space and if its worth it to clear some up for it !!!

as someone who spent HOURS on flash-based dollmakers as a kid, i absolutely love it. the gameplay hits somewhere between dressup game and open-world RPG, in that there's a large botw-like open map to explore, but the express purpose of exploring it is to unlock new clothes for your character. The exploration itself feels very calm and cozy most of the time, with the emphasis being on small collection tasks like fishing, bug-catching, and foraging. again, all of this is specifically to craft new outfits for nikki which you can both coordinate with no limitations to wear in the open world and use in scored styling contests with npcs, some of which reward you with game currency and some of which help you progress the story quests. the only place where i feel the gameplay truly suffers is in combat. you have one attack, and it's a ranged shooter, but there's no aim-assist whatsoever, and the mobile joystick isn't NEARLY sensitive enough to justify this. aiming in combat is one of the most difficult parts of the game, and nikki can only take 5 hits before she dies and has to respawn, making combat decently frustrating. However, there are very few places where combat is strictly necessary in-game, and both of the boss battles i've done so far had hitboxes large enough that it wasn't an issue; it's really in the open world against hordes of smaller enemies that the lack of targeting becomes really frustrating. other than that, though, the controls are fairly well-designed and intuitive, especially if you've played similar games before.

The clothes themselves are the star of the show, of course. I've yet to see a single clothing item in the game that I don't want. there's a good mix of fancy intricate outfit pieces and basics to obtain early-on, and without even touching the gacha you can coordinate some really cute outfits via in-universe boutiques and quests that reward you with clothes. Even the very obviously themed ability outfit sets that you craft early on almost always have a few pieces that are easy to mix and match with, so there's a TON of styling potential even for free players! As for the gacha, it's actually one of the more generous games i've played in terms of rewards and pity systems. My one complaint so far is that the 5-star gacha outfits especially seem to be very accessory-heavy, meaning it's possible to pull shoes, multiple necklaces, gloves, socks, and hairpieces before ever pulling the dress they're very obviously designed around. there is a pity mechanic to prevent this, but it requires you to pull a few too many times before your guarantee imo.

The story is ridiculous in a good way. It kind of reads like a 2000s-era barbie movie to me right now, in the best way possible. there's an amazingly predictable sexy villain, cute little flying creatures that follow you around, and every conflict is, of course, solved via clothes in one way or another. My absolute favorite thing about the writing, though, is how blatantly earnest it all is. at no point does the game poke fun at its own wacky concept or even attempt to make some self-aware joke about it to the player--it plays everything completely straight, and in this aspect it almost feels MORE self-aware. it knows that the kind of person who wants to play a dressup rpg is also the kind of person who does not, under any circumstances whatsoever, want to be questioned or made fun of for their love of fashion or their engagement with that game. It very much feels like the devs know that they're working with primarily girls and young women and a subject matter that those girls and young women are often looked down upon or made fun of for seriously engaging with, and so it promises to engage EXTRA-seriously to make up for that. (side note: there's one point in a story quest where, when asked to make a wish, nikki wishes that all girls never get cramps again. that was when i knew this was a game that knew its audience.) If I wanted to nitpick, i might say that every quest so far has sort of felt like an increasingly ridiculous trading sequence--you learn what you need to do very early on, but you'll always spend several hours of gameplay encountering obstacles and doing other smaller tasks to circumvent those obstacles so you can reach your original goal. this might annoy me more if the game was trying to market itself as a serious RPG, but it seems very self-aware to me, and despite how i'm describing it none of the quests ive played have actually FELT tedious. I think the fact that it's such a wild concept to begin with gives the writers a bit of leeway in how they handle the story quests, and because I as the player am aware i'm playing a dressup game I don't really expect quests to immediately get to the point and let me fight something. I will say that there are certain things that aren't super intuitive especially if you aren't a seasoned gacha rpg player, particularly the features relating to advancing your skills and the styling points of your clothing. though the game does technically explain what you need to do, it doesn't explain the RELEVANCE of the feature, just that it exists, so I had to lose multiple styling contests before I realized i could upgrade my clothing to get higher scores.

The final thing I'll talk about is performance. I'm playing the game on my iphone 13, and the performance is.... not great, i'm ngl. Off the bat, if you play the game on a mobile device, you're going to be getting a HEAVILY scaled-down version of the terrain graphics. all of those screenshots you see online of beautiful terrain full of flowers and particle effects are from ps5s or custom pcs. truthfully, the mobile app looks like a game from 2012 and it will still turn your phone into an incinerator. I've also encountered multiple graphics bugs, some during pivotal scenes, and I get consistent lags when playing for longer than a few hours, likely due to the strain on my phone's hardware. it's also an INSANE battery drain, so i only play when my phone is plugged in. All that being said, the game has been out for less than a week, so visual bugs are inevitable, and the developers have stated that mobile optimization is a priority, so hopefully we'll at the very least no longer have to overheat our devices to play it soon. Also worth noting, from what I've seen the rendering of the CLOTHING doesn't suffer AT ALL on mobile devices. presumably they sacrificed terrain rendering to allow for such beautiful texturing on the clothing itself, which, given that the clothing is the main focus of the game, I can't fault them for. Basically, if you're going to try to run an unreal engine game on your iphone, be aware that it will run like an unreal engine game on an iphone. and prepare yourself to have to let your device cool down every few hours.

tldr: i love the game so far. i'm really excited to keep playing and see where the story goes, and I think they should make more games for girls <3

[jelly-fish-wishes]

Finished the game…and I have SO MANY THOUGHTS!!!!

Spoilers below!

Gameplay was standard for an RPG. Bros moves new and old were great! But there were other features that were great, like the second camera in the Fake Mushroom Kingdom! That was an amazing mechanic that was unfortunately used for that one moment. Luigi selecting with the A button is still a thing that bothers me, but it doesn’t affect the game and story, so it gets a pass. Exploration was fun! Everything felt balanced to me and the story was PHENOMENAL! Now for the story…

The game WAS DEFINITELY a little slow at first, but it took its time to give us a little world building before we got to the REALLY good parts starting with Desolatt Island and the introduction of Zokket.

Boy was HE a real menace. Intimidating. We didn’t know his motives until the end of the second ACT. And by then, his motives were beginning to reveal themselves to be strange. What was the point of secluding everyone? Being purposefully forgetful of the names of his allies and enemies?

The Extension Corps were not just likable. They were LOVEABLE!!! Ten with his “similar to Fawful’s arc, but not quite” complex, Ecks being the little twat that he is, and Shun being the silent, but smart and brawny one, uuughhh they’re all great. And their battle was definitely one of the most memorable of them all!

Team IDLE was adorable. At first I thought they’d be trouble makers, but they were quite the opposite. I kinda wish they’d stop with the obesity jokes with Ellow. And Loog was…just there ngl. Their bond with Peach was great tho!

Starlow.

I’m kidding, she was mostly there for cameos and references to other games, other than that she had no reason to be there. It would have been wrong to not include her anyway. She was an important character in the previous games, so her absence would have caused an uproar the way people wondered why Toadsworth was gone after a certain point in the entire franchise.

I can see how they really wanted to bring back the Firebrand and Thunderhand, but couldn’t for some reason, so they replaced them with the Firebrand and Ice Flowers. And PERHAPS the Thunderhand was ALSO replaced with Luigi’s Bros Attack “Zapperator.” I wonder why they couldn’t bring it back. If they did, would Heatfreeze, Skorcheen and Slippenglide have had Fire and Thunder Concordians instead? I get excited thinking about it.

Bowser coming in to kickstart the 3rd ACT was EXCELLENT! The action, the cinematography, the way Bowser changed targets the minute he saw the Bros. This koopa was a major inconvenience in a good way. Besides, if it wasn’t for him, we wouldn’t have found the Great Conductor, who I assume is the one who can technically go in and out of the Warp Zone AT WILL without a pipe! His attack in the Bros Attack says a lot about his abilities hehehe.

The reveal of Zokket as Cozette came as a surprise to me since Zokket calls himself a HE while Cozette is a SHE. Bro got so brainwashed that she forgot her own pronouns (this isn’t my joke, but it’s still true). Cozette showing remorse over actions beyond control made me attached to her. And then we are introduced to the one and lonely only: RECLUSA. OH BOY DO I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS ON TUIS BASTARD.

Reclusa, Reclusa…where do I even BEGIN???

He is the MOST SUCCESSFUL Villain in the franchise. He has destroyed countless of worlds and plans to keep going. He got a reaction out of Mario because he not only threatened the Mushroom Kingdom, but the entire world it’s on. The last time I saw Mario react in such an emotional manner was when had to leave Luigi behind with Dimentio in Super Paper Mario.

Speaking of SPM, can we talk about the similarities with it and Brothership? Villain is a guy in a tophat with three minions. Minions are beloved by everyone in the fandom. True villain is a zesty frilly bastard who disposes the one in a tophat and uses plants to control people and becomes a giant freak monster boss in the end and dies by the hands of love and friendship??????? History repeats itself…and I’m happy about that.

But…the ending…holy cow…

Reclusa clinging to what life he had left in him felt very somber. He had no regrets and yet he seemed remorseful in the way he was stuttering. His death…kinda hurt a little…kind of a shame he is definitely a character we’ll never see again like Dimentio or Fawful.

I was also expecting Cozette to purposely stay behind because of the guilt she had. Was it just me? No? Hmmm.

Also

I knew they were going to say goodbye but I suppose deep down I brushed off the idea that they’d never see each other again.

Ireen saying goodbye to Peach???

Or Snoutlet with the Bros…the widdle tear he shed…man……..

Like, man…Junior and Buddy…come on man…OOOUUUGHHH….that one hurt….

This game

Wow

10/10

[celestialholz]

Be still made, my beloved crossbow (or 'let's talk about Durge's other other weapon... and maybe a bit about Stillmaker too')

You've read this post, friends. You know it's true, I know it's true. (And it's bloody beautiful by the way, lovely job @darkurgediaries.)

But wait, there's more.

Let's have a quick chat about the Hellfire Engine Crossbow, because if Stillmaker is Durge's blade from Gortash, this is Durge's side-bitch from him... or it was meant to be, anyway. Man never quite got around to piecing it all together.

Okay, let's start with er... I mean look at it. It's white, has a phoenix head on it - a creature that symbolises resurrection, rebirth and immortality, how very Durge, and is also associated with sun gods when Gortash is this easy to turn into a Lathanderan and that guy brings light to each new day - and it's also embossed with Gortash and the Steel Watch's black and gold motif.

And then you take a mechanical look at it and... hang on.

What are you doing here, Lightning Arrow? The Steel Watch don't have Lightning Arrow, but you know who does have Lightning Arrow? Rangers - archery experts, usually - at level nine and up. And who can we consider that's on level nine and is really good at archery?

And who can we consider who might run out of lightning-basic magic in the heat of battle; who is white, and has a theme of rebirth either by rejecting Daddy Bhaal outright or embracing them anew, and knows a sun-coded Radiant guy, and may once have had business in the Foundry?

Well hello The Dark Urge Vanilla Edition, our old spicy friend. There's also the lovely addition of Reposition Malefactor - Lightning Arrow, grab, Stillmaker stab. Classic Baldurian efficiency.

You know what kills me about Gortash's Radiant coding and Durge's Lightning? The first thing you see of lightning is its flash, its brilliance, and the second thing you see is its destruction. The light isn't the part that hurts you, but it's inextricably linked to the thing itself, just as you can't have the destruction without the light. Symbiosis. Gortash could have been thunder-coded, but... no. Thunder isn't destructive, not usually. It doesn't happen at the same time in the storm.

It's not symbiotic... it's not equal.

... Yeah no, I'm fine, not emotional at all. No sir, could not be me. Despite being level nine too, Gortash doesn't have Lightning Arrow. Why would you need lightning, when your beloved has it in their veins, when you've made them a crossbow specifically for it? You just bring the 'light' part, don't you?

Symbiosis. Peace and love on planet Faerûn. Anyway...

If we must consider the application of Lightning Arrow as a helpful aid to the depleted Storm Sorceror, we should probably consider Stillmaker's equivalent.

Hold Person. Hold. Person. Which, yes - very useful bit of utility for our lovely Durge to have, 100% - but then you consider the fifteen separate dimensions of romantic overtones in Durgetash and you just can't help but feel: Hold Person. It's a bloody hug. It's support. He's made it easier for you to slaughter people, which at least used to be your favourite thing to do.

So Gortash has A. made your murdering life much more fun because you can savour the kill and B. made sure you can still kill from a distance if anyone else happens to be around and you're tired.

What a complete fucking simp. 🥺❤

On the subject of Stillmaker in fact, much as the Fabricated Arbalest to the Hellfire Engine, it's rather different to Durge's main dagger, Bloodthirst.

This is pure function. Made to please Papa in the most gruesome way possible, whichever hand you feel like using to wield it.

Whereas Stillmaker... it's got an attached hug. It's got a wavy blade, perfect for the task of slicing and dicing - one that's very difficult to forge, that must have taken time and care.

... Well. Must have taken a mortal time and care. Because lest we forget, it's not the only wavy blade Durge owns.

... Seriously, Larian. How are you going to make both of them wavy. I'm on your ceiling fans.

It's two separate dimensions to Durge's life, in two blades with the same nastiness to them - absolute utility, versus actual care.

This is literally more intricate than the thing presumably given by a god. That's going to tear like a bitch, truly. And it's even got Bhaal's delightful countenance up front and centre. What was that devnote, about convincing the child of a god that they're not a monster? Mm...

Oh, I don't know. It's almost like, for a while anyway, Durge's connection to Gortash was more important than the one to their father. Maybe they wrote something about that very thing, in fact. Imagine. 🥲

I'd like to take this opportunity to also note the very violent and Thunder-mentioning text attached to the Hellfire Engine...

... And the fact it's found in three parts, because y'know, Dead Three.

There's only one minor flaw in this whole thing, really. One teensy little tiny problematic detail.

Sorcerors, unlike Gortash, can't use Heavy Crossbows.

... But, then, they can't use shortswords either.

I'll let you be the judge, shall I?

[heartbreakgrill]

Delicate: Vessel (Sleep Token); Part 8; "My reputation's never been worse."

“This is so fucking stupid.”

I shoved my hands into my hoodie pocket, eyes rolling at the sight of the boys, noise makers between their lips, some jank ass sign unraveling in the wind.

“Your mom’s fucking stupid,” Max fired back with his usual goofy smile, words muffled from the noise maker in his mouth. His knocked his fist against my elbow gently as he passed by, moving to help Cy hold up the poster board.

They’d bought it at a random Walgreens, after having forced the Uber driver to pull over, abruptly. Then, with bumpy hands and terrible penmanship, they wrote out some sarcastic for Sam about returning home from prison.

“Don’t be a sour puss, dude,” Adam replied. His brows were furrowed, chin dipping side to side in disagreement to my negative statement.

I looked to him, watching as he pulled a cone shaped hat down onto his hair, the rubber band snug against his chin. The meer humor of the too-small hat on his head made his words lose any meaning. I wanted to laugh, but instead I shot back, my brows skeptically, sarcasm quick as air, “Who? Me? No, never!”

Adam scoffed a laugh. His hat was finally adjusted now, hands falling to his sides exasperatedly. “Seriously. Just try to be nice, for once. Sam said Daisy’s, like, so sweet.” My skepticism only darkened my gaze, sarcasm sinking into genuine wonder, “So, what, we’re gonna be dancing around some child all summer?”

It was a valid question. When Sam asked us about Daisy joining the tour for the summer, everyone else just jumped on board. I, however, took a little convincing. What business did she even have here, 5,000 miles from home? It’s not like she had any professional connections to touch on, nor was London that interesting. Or, maybe I was just being a pessimist, again…

To say the least, I had trust issues. Or, in my therapist’s more light turn of phrase, I was cautious, careful to new people because I had a lot on the line with my career and had been through numerous situations with others that ended up with me, well…in therapy.

Max battled with the cardboard sign as the wind seemed to be winning the war. He struggled to get the words out as he scuffled to straighten its edges, which seemed to take more work than it needed to, “She’s literally only 5 years younger than you.”

“So, a child?”

“So, a 23 year old, grown woman. She’s really smart, Sam said. I’m sure you can have some fun conversations about the elements and shit.”

“Sam’s biased,” I murmured, focused now on the cigarette between my pointer and middle fingers. I dallied with lighting it, displaced energy in the act. It was early. I was tired.

“Sam’s one of your best mates,” Cy shot me a look. “Listen, just give her a chance. Stop moping just because you think some woman’s gonna take away from our guy time this summer.”

I straightened up, offense hitting my features like a stone wall, “When did I say that? I’m just worried we’re gonna have to cater to some child while we’re trying to literally do our jobs. She’s gonna be pursuing around like she’s in some Taylor Swift video while we’re going to be trying to earn our income. It’s just…weird.”

I’d never mention that fear to them- the fear I had of this trust. I think maybe if they all looked at me a little more closely, they’d see it. They’d see the fear in my eyes. But, I was really good at displacing my anxieties onto a separate, less pressing issue.

If I was ever terrified the sky was going to fall, then, suddenly, I was lashing out about the uncut grass in the front yard, randomly. Gotta love unhealthy coping mechanisms. Cy was still looking at me all judgmentally. I knew he wanted to lecture me further, but he simply reached over, patted my shoulder, and said, “Just…try not to be a dickhead, okay? Let the girl enjoy her summer.”

Max continued on, blabbering about something or the other. “I’m, like…Ollie, have you ever even seen a Taylor Swift video? I am pretty sure not a single fucking one takes place in Europe. They’re all super conceptual and abstract. Honestly, you might actually love some of ‘em. What’s that older one? With the trees and shit?”

“Out Of the Woods?” Adam was quick to fill in the blanks. I looked to him out of the corner of my vision, gaze narrowed. Of course he knew which one it was. He held his hands up, defensively, “What? My little cousin loves her.”

“Mhm,” I nodded, slow.

He trailed off, looking away, “And, maybe, you know, I do, too.”

“Oh, I’m sure.”

Max latched onto Adam’s help, continuing his rant about Taylor Swift, of all things. “Fuck! Out of the Woods! It reminds me a lot of the Fall for Me video! There’s, ya know, water…lots of running…self-deprecation. Fuck, a Sleep Token/Taylor Swift collab would go so hard!”

“Shit, could you imagine some real drums on one of her songs?” Cy perked up at the thought, fingers thrumming against the corner of the sign that he’d now laid his clutches on. “Sick!”

“Oh, God,” I rubbed my forehead, itching more and more to finally light up my cigarette, puff out a few smokey deep breaths. “I can feel the glitter and sparkles starting to fucking suffocate me! Can we please talk about something else?”

“Whatever, Ollie,” Adam flicked his hand towards me dismissively. He went to change the subject when his phone dinged from his pocket. He pulled it out, in one fluid motion, and read whatever text he’d gotten. “Shit! They just got their bags! Quick! Hold up the sign!”

Max shuffled around, all energetic, trying to make everything look perfect. He quickly tried to put a party hat on my head. I had to shove his entire body into Adam to stop him from getting the string down over my chin.

“Fuck off!” I cursed, brushing out the torso of my hoodie. He giggled, annoyingly, knowing he’d successfully gotten on my nerves. Again.

Max turned his attention away from me and to the two people who had just walked out of the airport, suitcases rolling behind them, backpacks looped around their shoulders. I noticed Sam, first, his head dipped down into his phone, curly blonde hair mopped up atop his head. He was dressed, head to toe, in all black. It was a welcome site, the fifth member of our posse back in our home country, our original stomping grounds, even if he wasn’t from here.

I let a smile overtake my features, excitement bubbling in my cheeks. It was actually really good to see him.

I wouldn’t have even paid any attention to the girl standing beside him if she didn’t stick out so much, like a sore thumb. Her bright pink sweater, gray sweatpants, the purples and greens swirled around her suitcase. Every single thing touching her was just…so colorful. Even the expression on her face, wide grin, cheery eyes- though they were circled by tireless bags- it was all so glaring.

I narrowed my eyes skeptically.

As Sam fumbled about on his phone, she stepped forward, excitedly taking an extra noise maker, my left over party hat, from Max. She barely got the hat on before Sam was looking up, our small crowd erupting into joyous ruckus that caused him to nearly drop his phone.

I don’t know why, but I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. I watched her, carefully, as she went through the motions of greeting everyone. Adam was his shy, introverted self. Cy was charismatic, Max obnoxiously flirty.

And she was just…constant, through it all. Upbeat, grinning, encouraging to every single average word that my friends told her.

And then she was looking at me, offering her hand. My head shook slightly as if to unscramble my consciousness. I glanced between her hand, her own gaze, unsure of what to do or say. I had been too busy watching. I barely brought myself out of that entrapped stare before my name came fumbling out of my mouth.

“Oliver.”

She seemed a little put off, taken aback, after I blatantly ignored her outstretched hand. But, I didn’t want to shake it. I was afraid that, if I touched it, she might shock me, sting me, scorch me with that bleeding sunshine she seemed to have sticking to her skin.

Besides, I couldn’t trust her, right? Right.

I turned my head away, feeling somewhat ashamed for the way I brushed her off. There was a rejected twinkle in her eyes, one that I could not handle. Moving on from that interaction, or in an attempt to do so, I tilted my chin down, glazing my eyes to the concrete. I shrunk beneath the cover of my hood. I didn’t need to feel bad for anything. I didn’t even know her, nor did she know me.

As the others finished up with their exchange of greetings, the group itself began making its way back to the Uber, with Sam and Daisy now a part of the flow.

The car ride back was objectively short, though it felt longer than the time on Apple Maps said. I rode in the back with the guys, pressed up against the door due to the lack of space. My long knees jutted out awkwardly. The bone of my leg ached from knocking against the door with each bump in the road that the car hit.

I stared out of the window, hoping the painful time would pass quicker. The ugliness of London stared back at me. A small, curious part of me kept darting my eyes towards the front seat, where she sat. But I stilled my gaze on the city.

That was maybe part of the issue- I just didn't understand why Daisy was so interested in visiting this place anyways. It was boring, bland. I associated the cloudy gray skies and rainy summers with some of the worst times of my life. This city looked the way I felt for most of it, too. The people were shit, too. Rude, always in a rush, unforgiving and untrustworthy.

What adventure could one find in this wet, concrete maze of hell?

Bored, I moved my attention back to the interior of the car, still resisting that urge to look forward. Adam, Cy, Sam, and Max were a cacophony of lost conversation, catching up, rumbling laughter. I listened for a moment, intently awaiting her to throw in her two sense. She seemed like the type to talk somebody’s ear off. Perhaps I could read between her sentences, find out her motives, her intentions, find something to use against her, so I could easily hate her and put distance between us-

Oh.

She was sleeping.

Her body was slumped against the door, neck pillow twisted around to support her forehead from the glass of the window. She cradled her hands to her stomach, the blanket she had just up underneath her chest.

The curve of her face caught my eye the most, the simple stillness of the lines around her lips, the peaceful flutter that ruffled her lashes every so often. I wondered what she dreamt of- rainbows, sunshine, lollipops. I bet she was the type of person who would respond, "World peace," when asked what she would wish for if she had a genie.

God. I really was an asshole. Here was this stranger, this beautiful, seemingly kind stranger, trying to catch up on sleep after traveling nearly 20 hours…and here I was, creating an entire persona around the two facts I actually knew about her. Maybe I should give her a chance, like the guys said. Maybe I should let her in, even if it was barely past the surface, and try to be amicable.

Maybe she wouldn’t sell my name to the paparazzi. Maybe she wouldn’t leak photos of me online, or call news sites to gain traction on social media.

I nearly flinched as she shifted in her slumber, so lost in my thoughts that the disruption was a panic. Her lips parted, just so, as air deflated from her lungs. The hair that curled around her face ruffled from the gentle gust.

Though she looked like Sam, she really was beautiful. Sure, Sam was attractive, in his own way. But, uniquely, Daisy was…honestly, gorgeous, all doe-eyed, rose lips, freckled cheeks.

I kept staring at her, analyzing, accidentally memorizing.

As I felt myself sinking, into my seat, into myself, into this stare I had on her, I straightened up, shoved myself back in the door.

The poor girl wasn’t even awake.

And I was being far too open.

When we reached the hotel, everyone piled out of the Uber. I went to step out, myself, to begrudgingly helped with luggage. But after I cast a casual glance over my shoulder, I noticed Daisy was still asleep. As though she were his responsibility, I found Sam and went to vocalize the issue with him. But he was busy with their bags.

None of the others were really familiar enough with her to consider her.

No one but me, I guess, because I was reaching out my fingers, touching her shoulder, telling her, "We're here."

I swept myself away before she could wake up and look me in the eyes. - "Where's your sister?" Cy inquired, poking at his dish with the fork in his hold.

Sam shrugged as he continued shoveling french fries in his mouth. "Sleeping, I think. She was fucking exhausted. Could barely get herself to bed this morning.”

"Poor girl," Max pouted his bottom lip. "Has she ever traveled this far from home?"

"Nope."

"Damn. Good for her, then. It's hard to just leave everything behind, to leave your everyday life for this type of thing for this long," Max continued.

I listened intently, though I made it seem like I wasn't even conscious of the guys seated at the table with me. Where they thought I was mindlessly stirring my drink, I was reading between the lines of every vague fact Sam dropped about Daisy.

"Well," he held a hand before his mouth as he chewed, swallowed. He sat back as he began to unload more information about his sister, "No offense to her, but she doesn't have much of a life. She works, like, two-three jobs at any given time. She works at some clinic during the day, waits tables in the evening, then does some stuff on campus here and there."

"Shit. Hope she's taking care of herself," Adam commented, thoughtfully.

"She does. I think. I don't know. We don't really get much time together anymore. Ever since mom died...I don't know. It's been hard to stay connected."

"This summer's gonna be good, then, for you guys to get to see each other," Cy touched Sam’s wrist with his fist, encouraging our friend with his response.

"Yeah," Sam's eyes seemed a little distant then, like there were foggy memories, regrets clouding his consciousness, "Yeah, I hope so."

Max went to speak again when Sam's phone went off. He pulled it out, scrolling through the texts he'd received. "Speak of the devil."

Sure enough, Daisy came padding into the hotel bar. Her hair was damp, twisted up behind her head by some clip. Her features were more prominent this way, skin shining with the care she must have just put into it. As she approached us, her perfume breezed off her skin, off her stupid Taylor Swift hoodie, right past my nose.

It smelled so sweet that I had to look away, focus on something else.

Everyone else greeted her, asking about how she slept, how she felt. I was inattentive, attempting to make it seem like I hadn’t just been thrown off balance.

I needed to do something, say something to her, to be welcoming. To make it seem like I wasn’t such a dickhead, even though I pretty much was. So, I worked on some phrases in my head, hoping to catch her in a side conversation, so there wasn’t so much tension with the others listening in. But, she walked out of the bar as quickly as she'd come.

I found the air to be cooler without her occupying the space.

I shivered and turned my chin towards that freeze.

-

Later that evening, I found myself on the hotel roof.

It was one of my favorite spots, no matter which city we were passing through, which state I found myself to be stuck in. I could go up to the highest floor, even if it wasn’t too far off of the ground, tune out the stress that came with work, and relax into the peace and quiet.

It was one of the healthier coping mechanisms my therapist and I had been working on. I was an antisocial person, to say the least. And when I’d had to be around others for too long, working literal overtime to just function like a normal person, I’d become irritable, withdrawn.

So, stalking off in the late hours of the evening with a book in my hand and some lyrics in my head became a usual, practiced ritual that I was comforted by, especially on tours.

The breeze of London flew past my face, braising goosebumps on my neck. I tucked my chin into my hoodie more. There were these tiki lights, all around me and the intimate seating area I occupied, but the little bits of light did nothing to help me see the book in my hands.

I tucked it away after straining for a few moments and settled on just resonating with myself for a bit. I watched the flames of the fire pit before me, listened to it crackle and pop. I was so focused on the peacefulness, that I hadn’t even noticed the elevator ding, nor the person scuffling across the concrete of the roof.

In fact, I didn’t even notice her until she was sitting across from me, these little alcohol bottles in her hands. The movement of her sitting before me flitted my gaze up, edges of my vision blurred slightly from the intensity of the flames. My hearing focused after. There was music streaming from the speakers on her phone, some Taylor Swift song I didn't recognize. I withheld the urge to roll my eyes and studied her movements.

She read the label on the mini shot of Jack Daniels with squinted eyes. I'd never seen someone pay so much attention to a simple liquor Maybe she'd never drank it before. That would be a strange fact, considering she was 23. Every 23 year old I knew had gone through every liquor known to man. Then, she drank it and I realized why she was so observant. Her face turned up in this grimace, lips puckered, brows furrowed. She just couldn't handle her liquor. Her examination of the bottle was really just a hesitance to consume it in the first place.

I stifled a laugh and instead found my words, urged to tease her for this occurrence, "Gonna share?' Maybe I should have intruded her peace more gently, or maybe I should have said something sooner than I did. Either way, I had spooked her enough that she jumped.

Her once shocked grimace twisted into a deep frown, like she was annoyed I had disturbed her. "How long have you been sitting there?"

My grin widened, though it didn't seem like she found much humor in the situation. "Long enough to know you can't take a shot." I held out my hand, awaiting her to hand over one of the bottles. She didn't do that Instead, her face hardened a bit and she made another comment, “Sorry I’m not an alcoholic. If you want one, you have to come get it, by the way. I’m comfy now.”

I was taken back by her crudeness. Everyone said she was so kind, so sweet. I'd even overheard her niceties earlier, at the airport, at the bar. Had I done something?

Instead of setting the record straight, communicating, though, I became defensive to her jabs. As I reached for one of the bottles, I said, "Comfy with this trash music playing?"

Funnily enough, this made her face sink more, if at all possible. Her frown was deep as a river, and murky as one, too, "Real men listen to Taylor Swift."

I tried another joke, hoping it would salvage the wreckage we were feeding, "Hey, haven't you heard? I'm a vessel, not a man?"

I don't know if it did, but she at least continued speaking to me. "So, vessel, what are you doing up here? Can't sleep?"

I tossed my hand in her direction, speaking with my casual satire, "Obviously." I looked away from her, breathless. I was trying so hard, so incredibly hard to seem careless, chill. I didn’t know why I couldn’t just, actually, genuinely not give a fuck.

I reached for my cigarettes, too stressed out to handle a head that was some sober from nicotine. After a long drag, I felt that familiar buzz of a clear head, the temporary reduction of anxiety.

Cigarettes were always a killer ice breaker, helpful in even the toughest, most awkward conversations. So, when my eyes popped back open and met hers, I offered a hit.

If her face had been disgusted before, it was even more so now. "That's okay, thanks," she almost sneered.

I pursed my lips. Okay, I wasn't the only one killing this conversation. She acted like she was just too good for anything that I had to do with. Like if she were to take a drag from this cigarette, she'd be infected with my sickness.

I voiced the concern with my snide tone again. Her response nearly made me choke on my own spit, “More like my mom died of lung cancer because she smoked for thirty years.”

As quick as possible, I stomped the butt into the ground. "Sorry."

She hummed some sort of response, looking away so uncomfortably. I wanted to grovel, to beg for her forgiveness in the case of such a small moment of misunderstanding, but I settled on another painful jab at a nice conversation.

“I’d ask what you’re doing up, but I figured you wouldn’t be able to sleep after the day you had.” She responded in that same dry tone, "Yeah, no."

Annoyed, I began to wonder where all this sweetness had gone. Earlier, with the guys, she had spoken like she'd known them for forever. Here, with me- she acted like I'd spit in her coffee this morning, like I was holding her at gun point just to have this conversation.

I gave up on trying to be overly considerate and shot straight to the point. I wanted answers anyways, and now I had a good reason to search for them, "What's your deal, Daisy?"

"What the fuck does that mean?" She responded.

I shrugged as I crossed my arms over my chest. What did she want it to mean? "Why are you here?" Instead of just answering the question, she countered me, echoing the question. Good fucking game, Daisy Hallett. Good fucking game.

I stretched my body out as I thought, unsure of how to answer. What was I here for? To do my job, obviously. So, I told her that. But, I should have known she would pry deeper. That were her job, after all, to observe, analyze, pry.

“That’s not what you’re here for,” She rejected my words, shaking her head just slightly, “That’s what everyone else is here for. What about you, Oliver?”

I started making music for myself, not anyone else. In the darkest, most terrible parts of my life, it had gotten me through to the other side with ease. It was my biggest coping skill, sitting at a clear number one on the list my therapist and I had outlined.

Getting paid for it, getting to tour and travel cities…that was all a plus. Touring, performing itself, were two things I was still trying to get used to. It was awesome to get to play my music life for others, to help them through to the other side, but it was sometimes…overwhelming, a hard pill to swallow.

So, I answered honestly this time, “To…worship. To celebrate my music, myself…life.”

She was impressed by this answer, pleased, and I could tell this by the stretch of her lips. That sweet, enticing smile did something to me.

As she held up the shot bottle in a gesture to cheers, I returned the smirk. We danced on the edge of some invisible line.

"To life."

I wanted to hear more of her voice, more of...her, more about her. So, I scrambled and said, "Wait, what about you?"

“There’s no deeper meaning to anything I do,” she waved me off.

I understood her more in this moment than I sometimes understood the people closest to me. She was like- she was insecure, she was scared. She was a little kid with monsters under her bed and in her closet.

So, I affirmed her existence with words that seemed so simple, yet would have meant so much for me to hear, too. “Oh, Daisy, there’s always deeper meaning to everything humans do. Think. What’s yours?”

This threw her off balance, yet somehow kept her from falling off the edge. It made the gears in her head turn, made her question her own thoughts. "I guess…I guess…to find that deeper meaning. To find what I’m looking for, maybe.”

She still didn't seem too sure, but I knew that, once this summer ended, once the leaves turned brown, and she returned back to a place called home, she would know it in her bones.

And I think, maybe, I might know it, too.

Sooner, rather than the later that I hoped for, we were in the elevator. Hours of breathless conversation sat, stale in the air on the roof, abandoned as the steel doors trapped us in silence.

The more she told me, the more terrified I was of her very existence. She was smarter than me, and very good at returning snide comments. Her wit was so profoundly intelligent, that I found myself silenced on more than one occasion.

Above all this- she was a disruption- she was chaos. She made me think differently, harder. She made me laugh.

I was drawn in by all of this, by her eyes, by the way the corners of her pink lips curled up into her cheeks. It took me a second to realize that she was staring back up at me, that our shoulders were turning to face one another, that my fingers were grazing the sleeve of her hoodie.

"You're very pretty, Daisy," the words fell out in a dangerous whisper. I loved the way she blushed, the way the tip of her nose scrunched, and she fell back onto her heels a bit.

I would have kissed her, I knew that for sure, had the elevator doors not opened up, had we not parted ways there, in the barren hallways. And I would have sought her out, would have reached for a simple phone number, another moment on the roof, another conversation about life and college and her favorite fucking color...

had I not made it back to my room and looked myself in the eye, through the smudged reflection of the bathroom mirror. The painful eye contact brought me back down to Earth, reminded me of the ugliness swirled up inside my chest, the bitter desire of my own self interest, selfishness.

I was...I was the chaos. I was the disruption. Here was this beautiful, interesting, smart girl...and here was me, this man-giant, who could barely hold a conversation without feeling like he was going to have a panic attack. Besides all that, her brother was my fucking best friend. I was his boss.

This was territory that I could not enter, not without a guilty conscience and someone's broken heart. So, I would proceed with caution, although it ended up making me seem like the worst person in the world.

-

I knew I could no longer keep up the act only a few weeks in, all thanks to Whitney Houston and this stupid pink fucking dress.

I watched her parade herself all night, guzzling drinks like they were air, batting her stupidly prim and perfect eyelashes my way. She knew exactly how to get me going- how to lock me in, most of all. And I was playing right into the fucking game, weak signs and Achilles heels all exposed from the second that she stepped out of that hotel room.

When I saw that knowing, vivacious smirk- I knew tonight would be different.

It wasn't until she was passed out, in my bed, with my hoodie on, that I realized I was falling for her. I had been able to subside the hunger that I felt, the hunger I felt to speak to her, to consume her with my eyes, my teeth, my hands, my body- God. It was easy to push all these thoughts away when she wasn't there- but then, she'd show up at breakfast or dinner or in my dreams and thoughts and desperations and I'd spiral again.

It didn't help that I was letting it get to me so much- and she was literally trained in analyzing behavior. I exposed my curiosities with even the slightest dip in my gaze or lift in my shoulders. There was a moment, during breakfast, when she told us of her plans for the evening of one our first shows- that she wasn't coming to.

Max had to go and make a stupid joke when I just barly glanced up from my plate, "Even Ollie's hurt!" I stopped coming to so many social gatherings, at least where she was concerned. And, then, I got all the space I needed when we took off on the buses.

Everyone flocked to her side, wanting even a second of her attention, while I kept to myself on the other bus. Because I thought the guys might leave me alone about it, I could almost reside in absolute peace.

But, then, Ronnie came knocking on my bunk.

It was early morning. We were stopped for gas, somewhere in Northern Italy. The bus was deadly silent, with nothing but my own quiet breath and the hum of the outside world to keep e company. Ronnie came in, bounding, like she always did. She slammed the bus door shut, jarring me from the focus I'd had on the game of Mario Kart pulled up on my Switch. Next thing I knew, she was ripping open the curtain to my bunk.

"Why the fuck are you rotting in here like a mummy? I'm close to wrapping you up in toilet paper and shoving you in with the suitcases!"

I rolled my eyes as she spoke and slouched my shoulders away. The hood of my sweatshirt dipped enough that she was no longer in my view. "Sam needs to stop gassing up your jokes. It's getting to your head."

"You're literally just jealous because your jokes are only ever mean and borderline tone-deaf," Ronnie grabbed the lip of my hood and tugged it down over my face.

I wriggled away from her, Switch dropping towards the inside of the bunk. I shoved her hands away. "Says you, Miss Jimmy Carr."

Ronnie's jaw jutted open a bit, "Now that's fucked, Ollie."

I went to jab back again, but she held up a hand, head tilted like she was a tired, annoyed mother of a band of men babies. "Stop while you're ahead, dude. Back to what I came in to harass you about- you need to come join us! We're playing Mario Kart with peaches- Daisy, sorry. You guys would get along sooo great. I know you're, like, weird about new people, but she's so fucking funny. Please, please just come over, hang out, be chill for once in your life."

Peaches. They had given her a nickname. Peaches, as if she weren't already sweet enough to sour the cuts on my skin.

I huffed and puffed at the rant as I pulled my hood down the back of my head. "First of all, I don't play Mario Kart-"

"I literally hear the music coming from your Switch," Ronnie pointed with a dead stare at the device, muffled humming rumbling from beneath my blanket.

I met her eye, absent any shame of my white lie. I took a breath and dove back into my rejection, "Second of all, why the hell do you guys give out the cringiest, most ridiculous nicknames? Like, peaches?What even is that?"

"It's called joy, magic, and fun, you grinch," Ronnie pinched my elbow. I flinched away from her touch again and she snickered. "If you don't like Daisy, just say so. I won't tell anybody. I'll just resent and judge you in silence- silent words, not punches."

What did she mean, that I didn't like Daisy? I knew I'd been passive towards her, but I never made it so obvious-

The expression on my face must have read confusion or shock because Ronnie popped a hip and crossed her arms.

"Listen," she added, "I know that she probably irks you. I get it. You're the bad boy, dark soul type and she's this ray of fucking sunshine and, yes, peaches. Just- give her a chance before you rain all over her parade."

"I literally never said I had a fucking problem with her. Why does everyone think I hate her guts when I've literally only ever had one conversation with her?" I frustratedly spoke, words rushed together. Ronnie stood back a second, reading the scrunch of my brows, the way I pushed myself up onto my elbows. Then, her offended frown morphed into something knowing, as though bits of information clicked in her head.

"Oh," she rhythmed, grinning now, "I see what's going on here. Hey, she's gorgeous.” "Oh, my God, here we go," I stood from my bunk, now, unwilling to just lay there and listen to her try to evaluate my behavior.

Ronne didn't follow me as I made my way to the back room, "Ollie...just remember who you are. And who she is."

And this sentence alone threw me for the biggest loop.

I didn't even know what she meant by that, but as well I knew Ronnie...it was definitely more than met the eye, deeper than any surface level warning anybody else could give. Not only did I know Ronnie well, but she could read me like a book. She knew what to say to make my skin crawl. Who I am...who Daisy is.

Analyzing the statement from top to bottom, general to specific, it was simple. She was my best friend’s brother. And I was his boss.

It meant more than that, though.

Ronnie meant that Daisy…Daisy was delicate. Daisy was meat, fresh off a shattered bone, and I was a hound.

I was always the hound. The Albatross, even. A winged creature always coming in to swipe shiny things off of stormy shores.

Ronnie didn’t want to harm me with the statement, but she sure as hell wanted to humble me. And that she did.

Each time I found myself aching to find Daisy’s gaze, I’d shrink back into myself. Remember my place. Remember who I was.

And, then…that damn Whitney Houston song. That damn pink dress.

Ronnie knew I was slipping, when I first spotted Daisy, in the doorway of her hotel room, long legs on display. I caught my lips beginning to party, drool beginning to pool in my teeth. This appreciative smirk came upon my face until I met Ronnie’s frown.

And I moved on.

I kept trying to move on, to fly away, leave the gold necklace on the beach for some other lucky, hopeless idiot to clean the sand off of, treasure for the rest of their sorry days.

I paid for her meal, as some sort of reparation for the damage I must’ve done all evening, being the hungry being I was while she toyed with the lock on my cage.

But, I just couldn’t . Especially not when she was running from the bar, sickness visible on her face. I could’ve left it where it was- Max was shuffling after her, ready to help, ready to hold her hair up.

Before I knew it, my feet were racing me out of the door, my hand was on Max’s shoulder, a kind smile was reassuring him that I could handle it, that he could go back to having fun.

My hands were in her hair, my neck was cradling the crown of her head, she was reaching for my wallet, letting us into the hotel room, laying down on my bed. I was giving her my hoodie, placing a bandage on her leg, caressing her fruity skin.

And then…just like that, as quickly as the rain began, like when you can see it in sheets, pounding into the Earth, just there, off in the distance…then it’s splattering on your windshield, the sound jarring you from your tired drive, the blur harming your vision of the road.

It was raining in my hotel room.

I didn’t have an umbrella.

I spent the entire night, laying there on the bed beside her, faced away, tensed up. Every breath she took stopped my heart. Every wrinkle from the white sheets made my eyes blink.

I was spending so much of my thought process trying to remember the taste of her fleeting lips on my own, pressing my fingers to them as though they were stained from her, as though I could close my eyes and taste them, again and again and again.

Then, in the morning, she returned my hoodie. There was this…look…this distant, worried look. Had she remembered? Had she remembered the words I said? Was this going to change anything? Everything? At breakfast, I ignored her persistent eyes, the gaze burning into my soul for answers. When she told us she couldn’t remember anything, I was little relieved.

If she didn’t remember, I could put distance between us, try to forget it myself- try to forget the way her fingers buried themselves into my hair. Try to forget the feel of her nose, pressed into my cheek, her chest, warm against my own.

While I was able to put physical distance between us this week, being that work kept us busy. But, the mental, emotional yards were harder to climb.

Once we made it through the airport, to Italy, I began my practice of celibacy, against the thoughts of her, against us.

I think part of me knew it wouldn’t last. I think part of me didn’t want it to. I think that’s why I was there- in the elevator, headed for the roof, in hopes that I might find her there. I didn’t even know if it was a place she frequented, but my intuition told me it was a good place to look.

And I was right.

I acted shocked when I first saw her, like it didn’t help my blood pump, seeing her, feet in the water, hair curling around her forehead.

She looked so…tense. Stressed. There was this permanent furrow in her brow. Did she really not remember…anything? At all?

Though it was a relief, I wanted to jog her memory (I wanted to kiss her).

I asked Daisy, barely glancing over at her in the seat beside me. From the corner of my eye, I watched her chew upon on her bottom lip, “Not really.”

Why did it feel like a lie?

She must’ve remembered something. Sure, she had been drinking, but…she was smarter than that. “Okay,” I choked, snatching another look at her.

I noticed Daisy turn her chin to return the gaze and I looked back at the city. I couldn’t look into her eyes, look at her face. I’d crumble.

“Is there something I should be remembering?”

It was timid, shy. But bold.

Bolder than I could bring myself to be right now.

Unable to find my own words, unable to form my own lie, I echoed her.

“Okay,” she copied.

The moment swelled in my mind. I wanted- needed her to remember. I wanted her to feel the ache in my bones at the thought of our lips pressed together. Wanted her to feel the longing Maybe then, she’d be the one to break, and I could blame it on her. Make her out to be the bad guy, going after me.

What a fucked up thing to think about.

Before I could catch myself, I blurted, “You don’t remember-“

At the same time, she went to push further on the topic.

I excused myself, motioned for her to continue. But, of course, she let me go instead.

“You don’t remember coming back to the hotel?”

I knew I was confusing her.

“Not really. you’re sure there’s nothing you want to tell me? Something important I should be remembering?” her knuckles, clasped together, were turning white.

I shrugged and pretended to be unaware, “I don’t think so.”

“Why did you tell me to come sit with you?”

She really knew how to make a guy question his own thought patterns. It would make her a really great therapist- but it just made me want to run.

To hide. To slip away from this disruption in my damaged peace.

I sighed, thoughtful, though still unsure, “I don’t know. Thought it would be nice. Like when we were in London-“

“Like when we were in London and you proceeded to pretend like we never did this? Like when we were in London and you kept interrupting me, so I couldn’t tell everyone we had been up on the roof together?”

So, she was pissed.

I knew she would be. She acted like she didn’t care, but I saw through the disguise. It reminded me of me.

I shrugged, putting on the same play, “Like that.”

I guess that was the comment that sent her off the edge, though. She was too guarded, too respectful of herself to take the bullshit I pushed. “I’m gonna go to bed.”

That wasn’t it for me. I needed to know what she knew. She obviously remembered more than she was letting on.

I slid into the elevator behind her, “Daisy-“

I swear to God, the rhythm of her breathing palpitated when I said her name-

“I need you to be honest with me. What do you remember?”

“Oh, cause you’re such a conscientious person yourself?”

I pulled at my hair, stressfully, “I really don’t think we’re on the same page right now, Daisy. Please, if we could just talk about this, if you could just tell me what you remember-“

Gears seemed to click in her brain. Something I said, the way I moved, the flash of the stars in her eyes, something had triggered a memory in her head. Something suddenly made sense.

I tried to help, though I was probably just being an asshole. “I want to figure this out, okay?”

I wanted to figure her out.

Whatever clicked was- it fucked things up.

“Oliver,” she frowned, “I can’t play this game with you.”

Game?

What game?

I was only ever playing defense- keeping to myself, keeping her away from my heart, trying to maintain distance. She had kissed me- I was the one to turn her away.

My shoulders fell, “What game? Daisy…I’m confused!”

“So am I, Oliver!”

Fuck. The way she said my name-

“I’m- you’re fucking with my head!”

Like she wasn’t fucking with mine?!

I went back to my original question, hoping to continue digging there, instead of worrying about this new hole she was unburying, “What do you remember?”

“It doesn’t matter, Oliver! I just don’t want to do this with you. Max is right. I should listen to him.” What the fuck did Max say? Why was he involving himself in this? How did he even know about- us- when we didn’t even- what?

What was happening?

“I’m not doing this with you.”

The doors opened, and she was leaving me. In her dust. In the swell of her words.

I retreated back to my room, throat tight, chest contracting for any gulp breath I could get. I fell back against the door like there were bullet holes bleeding out of my chest. I wanted to just...be honest. To be honest with her. Tell her what I really thought, what really happened, how I felt about her.

It wasn't the boundaries holding me back now. All my senses of morality and respect for our situation were dead. It was me. I was the iceberg. I was the gun.

I found my way to the bed, lay there like an empty casket. Dead, hollow, shards of wood. Why was I so afraid of her?

Maybe she'd be good for me...better than the last relationship I had, that much I could already tell. But, maybe she didn't want me for that.

Maybe she wanted to scalp me for my money, for my fame, dish out the gossip to the tabloids. Maybe she wanted to love me.

Maybe I deserved something good. Maybe I deserved to take a risk on something. Maybe I needed to. I was outside her door, before I was really conscious to my own movements, knocking, waiting. For barely a second.

She was opening the door, standing there in this barren light like an angel.

"Daisy."

I was kissing her.

Whatever she wanted, whatever she needed, whatever cruel fate she may prophesize or goodness she may expose to my paled skin- I didn't care.

Because she was kissing me.

-

I hadn’t been with someone for over a year.

That was what was so jarring about the entire situation.

It made me cautious, held me back. I’d been on a dating ban since I switched to my new therapist, who wanted me to focus on myself more than I always did on another person.

And for a while, it was going well.

Until Daisy disrupted that.

I knew, for as long as she was alive, breathing my air, I just could never be alone.

Usually, when I dated someone, when I was with them…I still felt that loneliness because I would give so much. And that person never returned it.

Daisy did, by a tenfold. She was…present. She so easily showed up, made time for me, chased me down when I went into those bouts of self isolation.

It was difficult to let her in…to let her join me in the dark.

But she made it feel less lonely. She made me feel…whole.

I started going to breakfast more often, started including myself in the group activities. Not only did she make me feel less alone, but she made me feel like I needed human connection.

“It’s warm, isn’t it?”

I scoffed at my therapist’s words, so simple for something so complex. “Warm. It’s hot. I feel like I’m on fire.”

“Good. Burn,” she responded. “You’re in the light now, Oliver. How do you feel about it?”

“Wow, what a question,” I teased.

Dr. Grime sighed heavily, crossing her arms over her chest. The movement was delayed, due to the time zone different, the laggy wifi in the hotel room. “Seriously, Oliver. Is it…do you feel like you want to snuff it out?”

“Of course I do,” I shuffled on my bed, “you know me. Something good comes and I feel like I don’t deserve it. But…I think it might be okay if I hang around in this for a while.”

“I think so, too,” she smiled. “I like how your language has changed, too. You’d tell me, ‘I don’t deserve this.” Now you say, you feel like you don’t deserve it. You’re recognizing rational thoughts from emotional ones. That’s very important. I’m proud of you.”

I offered a strained smile in response, uncomfortable with her praise. It was appreciated, though, and gave me body a sense of accomplishment.

Maybe I was getting better.

“So, this Daisy,” she leaned forward, more intrigued with the personal aspect of my love life, like some maternal figure.

I chuckled, shaking my head approvingly, “Daisy.”

“Do you…love her?” Dr. Grime poked.

I blushed, deeply, but quickly shoved the thought away, “Oh, no. No way. I…I barely know her. That’s- that’s crazy. Definitely not. No.”

My phone dinged in rhythm with the end of my sentence. It was her.

Daisy: soon as sam goes to bed, i can be over

My eyes lingered on the text, more concerned with this situation now than the accusatory, knowing tone of my therapist’s words.

“Mm,” she paused, “no, of course. So, is this just…a casual summer fling for you? A way to get over everything this, figure out what it is you want out of a relationship? It’s important to have something like this, a stable ground to work up off of for the future, considering you don’t have a great idea as to what love should be like.”

“Maybe,” I shrugged, toying with my phone. I stared at the message, reading and rereading the message again and again.

What…was this.

What was this to me?

What was this…to her?

We’d established some boundaries, mostly that I couldn’t really commit to anything to serious. And she said that had been okay.

Was I still okay with that?

Was that still what I wanted?

I was so obviously falling in love with her, but I would never tell anybody that.

Especially not her.

But it didn’t matter if I loved her- did I want her that way? Did I want this to last past the summer?

I did.

And that’s what scared me the most.

Loving her beyond the swept up dream we were caught in, back home, domestically. Loving her casually, routinely, in the kitchen back in my apartment, through school, sharing plants and bath towels.

I wanted that.

I wanted her…her ends and odds.

I lied, “No. I don’t want that right now. Got tour going on, new album soon. You know. Busy.”

Long after therapy ended, I stared at the message. The sun had set, the day had died…and I just couldn’t think of anything to say.

I think if I were to be around her right now, I might blurt out some passionate, mindless thing that I couldn’t bring us back from.

I needed to do…what I always did. Be alone. Ruminate in my thoughts in the darkness of a foreign hotel room in a strange city. All alone.

This felt…easier. Comfortable. What I was good at.

Yeah…this was easier.

The next day, I couldn’t stay from her any longer.

I needed her and she was needed that, too- however we could get each other.

So I pushed aside the feelings I had for her- put up all my walls and boundaries, and took her into my arms-

We would have this summer, even if it killed us.

–

"Hiya, Ollie, dear!"

My mother's voice was a sweet symphonic sound to my tired ears. We were in near opposite time zones, hundreds of miles apart, and I missed her more than anything. Touring usually took everything out of me and she was the one, separate, stable person I could turn to.

We'd only called once or twice the past few months due to my obsessed perversions with a certain best friend's sibling who had been taking up all of my time- not that I was complaining about who.

It was only recently that my mom and I had established such good rapport. Since I was young, she'd struggled to wrap her head around my career choices. Now that I was fully devoted to the act, and quite successful, she pushed aside her disagreement with it and chose to just keep supporting me.

Though I couldn't always answer, her calls were welcome.

"Hi, mum," I sat up in the hotel bed, my back sighing in gratitude at the change in posiiton. i had been rotting in here for a few hours, a little bored since Daisy was out with her friend. I could've went and hung with the guys, but I honestly needed some time to myself. That time was starting to really feel like loneliness, though. I guess before I met Daisy, they were empty hours full of empty feelings. Now, I was waking up to the reality of my existence. I'd made it so dull.

"Are you in Paris yet? Or are you still travelling?"

"We made it a few days ago," I replied. “Show’s tomorrow."

"Oh, I love Paris," she remarked. I could hear her lovely grin through the tone of her words. "I remember when we went there on a school holiday. My favorite part was the Eiffel Tower. It's so big. Now, I hear that it sparkles. You'll have to take a photo for me."

"Sure, mum."

"Have you gotten out much or are you holing up in your hotel room?"

Sheepishly, I scratched my neck. My response was delayed a bit; we both knew the answer. “Uh...I’m getting out there. Ya know, hanging out.”

“Ugh, Ollie,” I could nearly hear the roll of her eyes through the phone. “You know need a lady friend. Someone to drag you out of your bed. I mean, how many times do you get to see Paris. And get paid for it!”

At the mention of a ‘lady friend,’ I blushed. I hadn’t gotten a chance to tell her about Daisy, and damn did I want to. Though we weren’t even officially together. I didn’t know how to explain that to my mom, so maybe I’d just shy away from the topic, talk about something else.

But I guess my lapse of silent thinking made her think that there already was a lady friend.

“Oh?” she questioned with a cheerful lace to her tone. I didn’t say anything, my brain was unable to come up with anything in response. Acting defensive always made people think the opposite of what I said. Should I just tell her? Get it out of the way? Let her lecture me about my poor choices.

“Well, I won’t badger you. When you're ready,” she was already responding.

I was surprised that she was going to leave it there, to say the least, which only furthered my sentence. She usually pushed until I gave her some semblance of the truth. As she was getting older, I’d realized she gotten more relaxed and didn’t push as much as she used to. I think it was partially due to the guilt she felt for everything between us growing up.

So, I just went to move the subject along when she jumped back on it, “Just- please don’t tell me it’s that Fiona girl. I’m so sorry if it is. I just can’t sit around and watch you be treated so poorly by someone so...so awful. Again. Her personality is just- wow. Though, I shouldn’t be surprised. I went to school with her mum, and she was awful towards me. Apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree-”

I had to stop her while she was ahead. I guess some things never really, truly changed. "Mum, please! I’m not seeing Fiona again, I promise. I’m not...”

I wasn’t offended that she thought I was. It was just...more or so shocking. Shocking that she thought I’d put myself back in that. I had, a handful of times before. But...I was different now.

I guess she hadn't been around me these past few months, but I had truly changed. This past May’s Oliver very well could’ve let Fiona waltz back into his life. But July’s Oliver? He would’ve been hesitant.

And, even more so- Daisy’s Oliver...Daisy’s Oliver was a changing man. Daisy’s Oliver was a better man.

And I wanted to tell my mum that, I decided. She needed to know- it would ease her mind, along with my own. I know she was always worried for me. So, I told her-

“No, I’m seeing someone else. Her name...her name’s Daisy,” that felt good to admit, to put into the Universe, that I was seeing her, and she was seeing me, even if there were no labels attached.

“Daisy?” she perked up at the name. “That’s a pretty name. What’s she look like? You got any pictures you can text me?”

I realized quickly that I didn’t. In the near two months that we had been sleeping together, consuming one another’s souls, we hadn’t taken a single picture. It was probably for the best, just in case they somehow fell into the wrong hands. But- there were so many moments I could’ve- should’ve- captured. Moments of Daisy, hair whipping past her face on the roof, the lights of Italy glowing behind her like she had angelic wings. Daisy, in my hotel room, in the early morning before she had to sneak away. Tired eyes and an even more exhausted smile as she laughed at something stupid, I’d done in my sleep.

I wanted one. I wanted a picture of her, a picture of us, whatever I could get.

For now, all I had was my memories to help me describe her to my mum. It was easy to do so, considering she was etched into the very nerves in my mind.

“No, I don’t,” I breathed out, “but she’s beautiful. She’s got this-this- God, I can’t even describe her to you. Her hair’s darker, like yours. She’s got these brown eyes. Shorter than me, of course. You can always tell it’s her, though, just by the way she carries herself. She’s got this energy. You’d just have to see it to believe it.”

“She sounds amazing, Ollie,” she sighed distantly then giggled, “Well, if she’s so pretty, where are the pictures? I need to see her! Need to see what this talk is all about.”

I chuckled in response, “I know, I know. I suck.”

“It’s alright. I’m sure it’s difficult, with you on tour and her...what does she do, exactly? Where is she from? Would I know her?”

Here came the long winded, shameful explanation of everything between Daisy and me. The feelings that weren’t feelings, the girl who wasn’t mine, the upset sea tumultuous between us. Her brother. Sam.

I tried my best, “Well, she’s working towards her counseling license. So, she goes back to school in the fall. But right now, she’s on tour with us. Her brother works- um...Sam’s her brother. She just wanted to do some traveling before getting tied down for the next few years.”

“Sam? Sam Hatlett? She's his little sister?” There was a bit of shock in her tone now like I imagined there would be. Sam was like a brother to me, and mum knew that. In fact, she loved Sam. She always had.

When she first met him, she’d pulled him under her wing like a mother bird, like she could just feel that he needed her. So, to imagine that I might go after his little sister is rightfully shocking. It was close to home.

“I know, I know. Again, I suck,” I laughed, though I felt so tense. Rubbing my neck didn’t ease the tension in my skin.

“You don't suck, darling. It’s just a precarious situation, I’m sure. How does Sam feel about it all? Was he weird when you first started dating Daisy?”

When I first began to tell my mum about Daisy, I doubted whether or not I wanted to be completely honest. But I easily fell into the comfortability of her warm conversation and realized I could not bend the truth. Not only did she deserve to know it, but she needed to. I knew, too, that she wasn’t going to judge me, tell me I was making a bad decision. It took three times with Fiona for her to begin voicing her opinion.

Above all, I didn't need to jump through any hoops to win her approval. I didn’t have to play a role, fill a part. I was me. And she loved that man.

I realized, subconsciously, that this was how I felt about Daisy, too. Comfortable. Easy.

Loved.

I explained things to my mom, carefully, making sure she knew of the endless boundaries Daisy always ensured we had and the sweet, delicate moments that made everything worth it. I nearly fell into myself, swept up in the reminiscent beauty of it all. God, I missed her, even if it had been only two days since I’d seen her. Her friend Sasha was in town and took up all her time.

I didn’t know what I was expecting my mom to say, so I held my breath after I finished saying, “But, I don’t know. I don’t know if it’s just a summer thing or what. We’re both kinda in weird positions, so we’re not too worried about that, I guess. We’re just...having fun, ya know?”

As the insecurity rose up my throat and choked me out, I sighed out the rest of the air I had in me and added, “We’re not, like, in love or anything.”

I hadn’t expected her to laugh, that’s for sure.

But she laughed. My mum giggled, like things were well and truly hilarious, like I had just told her a joke. I waited there in silence, waiting for her to make fun of me for being so stupid as to let this situation occur. Laugh at me for being terrible at love and life. There goes Oliver again, breaking hearts, getting his heart broken. He can’t even be in a stable relationship! Laugh, laugh, laugh.

She said, “You are crazy, Ollie,” but it wasn’t meant in a harsh manner.

It wasn’t condescending, it wasn’t mean. She wasn’t making fun of me. She was...she was laughing because it was funny.

“You are usually so good at going after things. I mean, look at you with your music, darling. I said no, how many times? I insisted you do something, anything else. I never supported you financially. I never...I never supported you. I was the odds you were testing yourself against and looking at you now! I mean,” her voice cracked. A sniffle followed. My muscles eased from the discomfort I felt into something that wanted to reach for her through the phone, hug her.

“I know your father and I didn’t give you the best example for love. I know we weren’t some movie star-couple that everyone always knew would last forever. We fought. We weren’t there for you when we should have been. Your father left you. And then I held all these stupid expectations up to you, to try to make you better. And you! You’re successful!”

“And I give you all the credit for that. You are...my pride and joy, Ollie. My life. I am so proud of you, darling. But it breaks my heart, still, that you have not been able to find happiness. That you must spend so much time repairing what I broke. We cannot blame everybody else- you can...you can blame me, Ollie. I know I am to blame. And that is okay.”

“So, forgive me for laughing, forgive me for calling you crazy and stupid and wild, darling, but- it's right in front of your face, Ollie! She’s right there in front of you. Daisy. Darling, if you’re still questioning what love is, what it’s supposed to feel like...please let me knock some sense into you! You are wasting so much precious time on believing that it can only leave. It doesn’t have to stay for long for it to be important. If she leaves at the end of the summer, you will regret not telling her.”

I didn’t have to ask her what she meant; what she knew I’d regret not saying. I knew it, I knew it as well as I knew Daisy’s face, even more clear in my memory now.

“You can beat around the bush some more if you’d like, or you can carry on with this facade you’re so deeply transfixed by. Darling, I know it’s hard to let the chaos subside, to let the goodness in, but as I am getting older, I am realizing that it is bright. It is...comfortable. It is good. You deserve to have a lifetime of that. Don’t waste any more time, Ollie. Please tell her, please let her tell you. Please just...hold what you have.”

I had borne a hole into the wall, but snapped out of my still position when I felt a tear roll down the side of my nose. “H-how? How do I tell her?”

“However you need to,” she chuckled lightly. “Although, here’s a hint, Ollie: you are in the City of Love. Take advantage.”

I knew our call was ending and didn’t know when we’d get to speak again. So, like she had told, I took advantage of the moment and I held what I had; “Mum, just so you know,” my voice came out as a whisper, a gentle patter of rain on the roof.

“Yes, Ollie?” she whispered, too, like there was a gentle card deck stacked between us. I think maybe there was- I think there was always some sort of tension lingering from the harsh moments we’d beat into each other; the fighting, the leaving, the crying. I don’t think she ever felt like I’d forgiven her, as if I really needed to. She had been growing up, too, after all.

“I love you, you know that?”

“I know, baby,” I felt relieved that there was a smile in her tone, “now, go. You have some more dreams to chase down. And, Ollie?” “Yeah?”

“Get some pictures for me.”

-

I was lucky that, the next day, everyone was busy with their own plans on opposite sides of the city. So Daisy and I were able to spend some time together, outside of this drywall prison. I was a pretty good listener, too, and remembered all the spots Daisy had gushed about seeing in the little time we’d had together these past few weeks. I was being given the perfect setup to do what I needed to do: we were going to be alone, in the most romantic city on planet Earth. I could finally tell her how I felt.

Of course, so much of me shook with anxiety. What if- she didn’t feel the same way? She didn’t want to risk it? She didn’t want to commit to someone this close to school? Let alone someone who lived across the world from her? These weren't my only fears. There were so many revolving around my career that I could’ve drowned beneath their weight.

Yet, each time I looked at her, I was anchored to her shoes. I couldn’t drift out to sea. I was grounded. Though my fears about how she would react sank, it took another amount of effort to get the words out.

I could’ve done it right away, gotten it out there, cleared the air, so we could enjoy each other even more. That would’ve been the best way: I would've gotten answers, started the day out on the right foot. But, when we got out onto the streets, I was swept up in the busy buzz of the crowds. It was loud in the cafe we grabbed breakfast at, loud on the sidewalks, overly crowded by the river. We finally found a place to sit, breakfast sandwiches and drinks in hand. Though there were still throngs of people all around us. So what good was the City of Love when it was full of ignorant tourists?

The anxiety of what I wanted to do was making me feel grumpy. I shut down a little bit, unable to really engage in much conversation, let alone tell her how I felt. I think it just looked like exhaustion to Daisy, so she didn’t really notice. I did- I was hyperaware of every short sentence, every avoided gaze. All of these people are going to be standing here when I tell her. They’re going to watch her reject me and they’re going to know. They're going to know I’m not good enough. She’s going to walk away from me, leave me stranded in the park, alone with my own rejection and denial. I’m not good enough I’m not good enough.

I thought about what my therapist would tell me, ways to snap myself out of this maladaptive pattern of behavior. My brain lies, she always said. It makes things up, creates false realities based off things others have said to me, or moments of true insecurity rooted in no sense of truth.

Daisy would want me, even if I wasn’t good enough. That was the one assurance I could tell myself to shake off the weary thoughts.

And if she didn’t- well, I don’t think thinking about that was going to help me very much. So, when we got back into the hustle and bustle, shopping around the city, visiting the sights, I opened myself back up.

I didn't know if I’d ever find the confidence. I was on the precipice again, after lunch, when I began spewing cheesy pet names as a sublimation for the words I needed to say. It shocked her at first, hearing such sweet things coming from me. And that stung a little. Was I that monstrous towards her that simple affections made her brows shoot up? Was I that bad? I repeated them once, twice, just so she really knew I meant it.

The day went on and on and I cowered in on myself even more. There were plenty more ample moments, but I just kept letting the clock tick down. I knew we were running out of precious time. If I didn’t tell her now, we would go straight back to secret moments in a hotel room, balancing on a tightrope, pretending like the moment the leaves changed color, we wouldn't be losing each other. I just knew Daisy wanted that about as much as I did.

Just when I was giving up hope, I found my moment, finally. Just after we had stopped to view the Eiffel Tower, some street side scam artist grabbed some pictures of us and was trying to convince me to spend $200 on the copies. At first, I brushed it off, until I caught a small peak at the images on his camera. Before he could spout another line, I was giving him $100. He gave me three photos.

Where my words may fail, these pictures couldn’t. You wouldn’t have to know Daisy and I personally to well and truly and see how infatuated we were with each other. I wasn’t even worried anymore that she wouldn’t want me. I was worried she wouldn’t want the risk, the jump, the caution of a fall.

These would be to convince her to leap. These had to be.

I stopped us outside the hotel, knowing if once we stepped inside, our memories might as well be cleared of the day's events. We would be going back to normalcy, to the real world. Our friends would be waiting there, we would allow the gap between us to grow. I would swallow my words and choke on them.

“I love you,” I pictured myself saying. “I love you, I love you, I love you. I love you, I love you in London, you in Paris, you at home. I love you from the hotel rooms we’ve indented to the streets we’ve wandered. I love you in the plane, on the bus, in every inch of this world.”

But it just wouldn’t come out.

I tried to encourage myself by thinking of who I was just a year ago. By thinking of how I was a year ago, the person I was dating, the situation I was caught up in. Fiona, the endless hours of fighting, of begging. Crying, screaming, the blood sport we played. Hunter and prey, me the victim and yet the one wielding the sword. I thought of Daisy when I first met her. The scent of her in my nostrils, like a clue that I was to hunt for as long as I could run. Of her in my teeth, when I first caught up to her incessant running. The satisfaction I felt, how disgusting that was. How horrible it was that I loved the taste of her blood on my lips.

And how much better I could breathe knowing that I had let go, that I had put my claws away and instead threaded a needle to stitch her skin close. How beautful that was- the beast retracting, the mask falling away. A true creature coming to light, renewed and willing.

Tears welled in my eyes. The words were there, finally, waiting just atop my tongue. She was leaning closer, clutching my hand, clutching those photos like a rosary, like she would sacrifice herself for me. I would, too. I would I would I would I would.

I think I hesitated a moment too soon, or I think she could tell what was happening. I think tha- that, I think that she was running again.

I think she wanted me to chase her or to stop, or she was placing traps in the woods, waiting for the wolf with a bow in arrow.

Because she was pulling away. And our friends were calling our names.

I didn’t have time to think, wrapped up in the swell of the arrival of our friends.

But I felt the death of the moment. It was heavy. It was rotten.

Later, I sat alone in my dressing room before the show, the photo I had kept between my fingers. I swear I could hear her breath, echoing from inside the paper frame of us. Swear I could feel her hands on my arms, grasping as though the wind would take us away from each other. Her lips on my cold ones, warm and fueling like a kindled fire.

I wondered if she threw the photos away. If she stared at them, with resentment. If she wanted to burn them.

Yet, I could’ve lived and died in that moment if I had to. If I was never able to tell her how I really felt about her, I’d be content to waste away, hanging on her lips like a vine, rotting from indecision and cowardice.

Eventually, Sam poked his head in to let me know it was time to go on. I flinched when he first spoke. It drew me back to reality in harsh, cold lighting. I drew the photo from my face, met his eye, and nodded.

I was lucky he didn’t ask any questions about my reserved response, though I knew he was aware that I was getting into character as this vessel. Part of me wished he had asked, though, if only to have someone to share the darkness with again, if even for just a second. And maybe outing Daisy and I to Sam would force me to tell her everything. Force some sort of decision to fall from the loitering hammer that hung above us.

Sam left. I set the photo down on the counter, not even thinking straight enough to put it away somewhere. Then, I hung the mask on my face, edges of my eyes darkened, just like my mind.

Part of me wished I didn’t even have to perform tonight. Every time I put on this disguise, I was reminded of those dark parts of me, the parts of me that were too much like this creature the costume made into. When I’d first come up with the character, I felt so strongly that I was just like Vessel- nothing but a pit of black, music transporting through me like some god had planted it there. I hadn’t been aware of my very real feelings. I just sat there, in that emptiness.

Things were different now.

Maybe I just needed a break from it all, from the costumes and the concerts and Daisy. Well, not Daisy. Not her. Just...everything involving her.

But never her. I just wanted her always, everywhere.

I didn’t get to have that, though, the break nor Daisy.

In fact, all I got was a slap in the face. When I went on stage, I spotted Daisy in the audience. For a split second, there was a lift in my heart, a fire in my bones. She was here. She hadn’t pulled away- she wanted me. She wanted me.

Then, as the lights flickered, I noticed the look of guilt on her face and the hand around her waist, She was here...with someone else.

I felt myself retracting, cocooning, not for growth, not for birth into something good, something with fluttering wings...but into that moth. Into that darkness.

Into that vessel.

In my fury, I laid claim to Daisy in all the wrong ways. I held her by the throat and let her dangle from my lips, reminded her how desparate she was for me, reminded her just how much she relied on my game. It had never been and never would be our game. I was the villain. I was the hunter.

She was my prey.

I was losing hope for my own reconciliation, for my own change. Maybe I would just always be detached, dark, monstrous. Maybe I would never be able to commit, to give in, to be someone’s something.

Maybe I was just this vessel, and maybe this vessel was just me.

Maybe I was never good enough for Daisy, but just enough to satisfy her furious need for that bad. And that was enough for me.

-

Things got worse when Fiona started blowing up my phone.

I wasn’t sure how she had gotten my number. I had changed it back in March, when I’d ended- really ended- things with her. And, with my career, it wasn’t like I’d just handed my number out to any person on the street. I had, maybe, ten contacts on my phone.

Daisy was one of the few I responded to.

But, somehow, someway, Fiona had gotten hold of my number and began blowing my phone up with messages. I blocked her the minute I noticed, after a show when I had time to get on my phone. Then, a few days later, she started messaging from a different number.

They were innocent claims- she kept saying I had left things at her flat and needed to come pick them up. But I knew her better than that. She was trying to use this to weasel back into my head, my heart. She’d convince me to come pick everything up and then, when I was there, she’d start crying. Start saying how much she loved and needed me. She’d convince her into her bed, and we’d start spiraling down into that same old waltz we both knew too well.

After I blocked this contact, I guess she evolved. She started using an unknown number, so I couldn’t even block the contact. I called my manager immediately and told him I needed to get a new phone number. Apparently, all the stores around us were closed for a few days, which just so happened to be my fucking luck. But he promised to get something for as soon as possible.

In the meantime, I just had to ignore her.

So, I booked a last-minute therapy appointment.

I glossed over everything with my doctor, telling myself that things with Daisy were hopeless. She obviously thought me to be disposable. I mean, I had watched how quickly she’d pulled away, how quickly she found another empty face in the crowd.

I didn’t want to admit that shameful situation to my doctor. I didn’t want her to know I’d let myself fall again.

Instead, we talked about Fiona, about the temptress knocking on my door. My doctor kept reminding me to, “Stay strong. Know your worth.”

Easy words for someone in a healthy, happy marriage.

All it would take was one more wrong look from Daisy and one wrong text from Fiona, and I’d end up back off the cliff.

So, I clung to the guys. Daisy had been...not so distant but detached. Cautious. She was taking the lead, so I followed. We still hung out, still fucked like we had been doing. Still had these meaningful, deep conversations that made me wonder, over and over, what the fuck was going through her head. But honestly, I now spent some of that extra time with Max, Cy, Adam, or Sam. We were due to begin working on the next album and I had plenty of ideas floating around in my head.

It was peaceful, quaint. Something I’d missed. Maybe I wouldn’t be ready to start dating again if something like this caused me so much stress.

Adam was texting me now, wondering if I wanted to hang out sometime this morning, talk about the album. I told him I’d let him know what time, considering Daisy was in my bed. And Fiona was blowing my phone up like fucking crazy.

The whole situation threw me off. She wasn’t really concerned about it, but made numerous, passive jokes about me having a secret girlfriend. I don’t know if it was because she really, truly wanted me to be exclusive to her, or if it was just something to do with her pride.

Signals were still mixed, even after we’d had a conversation about how committed we were to each other. Part of me wondered if it had just been an act, her agreement to never see anybody else, her admittance that she was, “mine.” If it had just been something brewed from the heat of the moment. But, when I answered the phone, set it back on the nightstand, I swear to God I saw something in her eyes shift, like she had been bothered at the thought of me with someone else.

Or it would be shitty in general if I was seeing someone else.

I weighed telling her, every single, how I felt about her. I don’t know that if I told her I loved her it would change anything. I had all but done so, and she still was unmoving. She still had gone and found that faceless nobody in the crowd.

Today, I felt like maybe I should. Tell her.

As soon as she had left, someone knocked on my door. I didn’t think it was Daisy, considering Sam would be waking up soon and she needed to get back into bed. When I looked through the peephole, Adam was there, staring over his shoulder sort of strangely.

“Hey, dude,” I started as I opened the door, then turned to make my way over to the bed where my book bag was. I reached in for my notebook, continuing, “so, I’ve got a few good ideas rattling around-” probably a few too many about Daisy, “that I wanna show ya.”

He slowly entered the room, shutting the door softly behind him, “Yeah, uh...” he approached me sort of hesitantly, distant confusion in his pupils, “I think we...should talk about something first.” He didn’t seem too sure of himself and the words he was saying were cautious. So, my tone slowed, hardened “What-what’s up?”

He finally met my eye and I felt like a sword had been shoved down my throat, “I just talked to Daisy...out in the hallway.”

I set my book bag down, hands having been frozen around the straps like someone cursed me into the stoic, icy position. All I could think to say was, “Oh.”

Adam nodded half-heartedly, “Yeah. Oh. I... don’t know what to say, really. I knew you guys had been...like, it was obvious. To me and I think Max, at least. Sam is kinda clueless and, he and Ronnie are totally sleeping with each other.”

Well, that was obvious. So obvious that I could have snorted, but I was too focused on the wild realization that everyone basically knew. All of that sneaking around, trying to be secretive- well, it didn’t fucking matter. And it didn’t seem like it really mattered that much.

“Are you gonna, like, scold me or something?’ I sat on the edge of my bed, running a wary hand through my hair.

“No, I’m gonna tell you that you’re fucking stupid.”

“What?” I looked up from the ground, shock widening my eyes.

Adam finally softened his expression and chortled, though it was short before he was in on me again, “You’re stupid, Ollie. I don’t think you’re doing it on purpose. I think you’re just...Fiona fucked you up. And I’ve watched you slowly start to heal over these past few months. Daisy has everything to do with that. And...she fucking loves you, dude. She thinks the world of you. And you’ve both, I guess, been dancing this dance with each other, walking around the whole thing. I just told her, like- stop thinking less of yourselves. You both deserve something good. You’re both worthy of each other. So, stop being fucking stupid and just tell her.”

My face was hot. I clenched my hands together, knuckles turning white as all these rampant, loose feelings released in my chest, in my head. “She doesn’t love me.” Adam chuckled again, “That’s a bold fucking statement. She just told me herself how much she adores me.”

“Well, yeah, she likes me, that’s obvious,” I waved him off, “she wouldn’t be sleeping with me if she didn’t. But...I think I’ve made it clear so many times how much I want her. And she, just, doesn’t care. Or she turns away.”

“She’s scared!” Adam exclaimed, making me flinch just slightly. “Sorry,” he spoke quieter, like he had shocked himself with his tone of voice. “She’s scared, Ollie. She’s...she doesn’t know who she is. That’s why she came here. That’s why she pulls away, why she seems unsure.”

“Well, I know that,” I scoffed, “I know her better than anyone. You haven’t seen the way she...how she denies it. I know she denies it. She denies us- me.”

“Okay, tell me,” Adam nearly popped a hip at this, a sassy tone overtaking his authoritative one. “Tell me how she denies, what she says and does that makes you think she doesn’t want you. Tell me that she doesn’t love you.”

I thought, long and hard. I could've mentioned the very recent time when she had been dancing with another guy, at our concert, a prowling look in her eyes. Or, of the time when I was on the brink of telling her how I felt, then she pulled away. Or-

Wait.

Am I fucking stupid?

I’m so fucking stupid. I am the dumbest, stupidest idiotic idiot to have ever existed.

It was all right there, clearing up now like I was wearing new glasses. I had a new perspective- I had an unbiased, outsider’s view of the world I had been suffocating in. And Adam’s view was- a breath of fresh air.

I was so obviously the one turning away from her.

From the beginning, I’d been denying her, us, for fear that she wouldn’t want me that way. For fear that someone would find out, for fear that I might die if she ever looked away from me. And I’ve been covering it up with the excuse that I was broken, or hurting, or-or...worthless.

I knew differently. I’d known it differently for a while now but had been unable to act upon this rationality. I was too emotional, too, in my head. And that made me seem manipulative, and asshole-ish, and- fucking stupid.

Adam watched me carefully, watched me as I processed these past few months. My eyes were narrowed, confused, though they widened as the information unfolded in my mind, as the notches clicked together.

“You’re…right.”

Instead of worrying myself with the evidence that she, too, was afraid, I felt my head flood with memories, as tangent on my skin as the cool air of my hotel room. Memories of her devotion, her promise, her love. Memories of us in the stale morning, sharing stories of her mother and that little apartment back in America. Memories of us on the roof, atop the world, atop the feeling, a private sanctuary where even just the flash of her eyes should have told me everything that I needed to know. I was going to tell her I felt the same. I was going to pull her up to the roof, one of our most sacred secrets, and pour everything out onto the barren concrete between us. And I knew she would say that she loved me, too.

It was delicate and I would have to handle it as such. Any sudden movement, and we’d be falling apart, all over again.

But, then Max was bombarding my hotel room, spewing some nonsense about Daisy and Ronnie getting tattoos. He was dragging us to Sam’s hotel room. I was practicing the lines in my head, over and over, a prayer.

Daisy was looking at me with these doe-innocent eyes, like she, too, was praying to some old god. Altering herself for a breath that he may resurrect what was dying between us even now.

I found more words, new words- lyrics, pummeling my skull in wondrous discovery. It was right there- everything was- My phone wouldn’t fucking stop ringing and I thought that I might explode into atoms. I ignored the call, watching as Daisy’s face fell each and every time that it did. She well and truly thought that I was seeing someone else.

Enough was enough.

I took a step towards her, fully intent on putting a rest to the strangeness and awakening what was already there. But, then my phone rang again.

And Sam began making some joke about Fiona calling me, a knowing, devious smirk on his features. He didn’t know- how could he know? I couldn’t be upset with him, but I wanted to strangle him into the carpet.

But I couldn’t focus on that anger for too long-

Because Daisy was leaving like we both always left, one too many times, in one too many silent glares of this something that we just may never get right.

The delicate threads of us bent and snapped.

[do-you-ship-it-polls]

Do you ship it?

reason under the cut!

okay i have to get this out of the way first: - a common headcanon is that they are siblings. which. no, dont ship this if you think they are siblings, thats weird and gross. blegh. - i (submitter) do not believe this! they have a rivalry, yes, but they aren't siblings! made by the same creator, sure, but that's a constant theme throughout the game. made by god, and made by humanity. they have a more interesting dynamic as strangers! - below is a copy and pasted (and slightly edited for the sake of clarity) rant from a discord server !! when i posted about some of my art about them, a pal of mine asked what the source material was! so that is that rant.

OKAY ULTRAKILL !!!! blue guy (V1) was a machine built for A Big War before humanity fails!!! its the character you play as in the gayass bloodplay shooter game <33 hes made to destroy. the first think you know about her is her name, her objective (FIND A WEAPON) and where she is (APPROCHING HELL) and three things: - mankind is dead - blood is fuel - hell is full WHICH MEANS THAT THE ROBOT USES BLOOD AS FUEL!!!! she needs blood to live and she will use the souls of the damned to do that. anyways so she was an actual war robot in the Real Life!! V2 (red) on the otherhand was a robot made after the New Peace that humanity made before their final death. they were meant to promote peace and are awesome!!! i also love their battle mechanics... silly :) in 1-4, V1 fights V2!!! its very interesting because v2 bows before the battle, showing it is but a curtesy, or a show of power, but it;s not personal. it was never personal, before. after the battle, v1 takes v2's arm, knuckleblaster. LATER ON. 4-4. they fight again. v2 has a new arm, whiplash, and sits upon a throne, awaiting v1's arrival for once they get to their area of Greed. it's so personal now. they fight, and they kill. v2 dies fully, and v1 takes the arm again. parts of v2, engraved into their arms and beating into their code. its very interesting to meee!!! taking a part of your dont even get me STARTED on the contrast between the soundtrack and how the visuals of each level are so vastly different!!!!! dont even get me STARTEDDDD because clair de lune and claire de soleil comparisons. hakita you are a genius!!!!

plus, all the fan interpretations are also fun!! comics based around the gore of the thing. art made for the sake of understanding these two. thank you for your time. if you headcanon these two as siblings, good! vote for i dont ship it and leave me alone please! thank you :)

tag: @bright-honey

[momo-shut-the-fuck-up]

So i ve done the main story in infinity nikki and im gonna stop playin now, before i squeeze the game dry of content and have nothing (new) to do on release.

Time for a lil review/thoughts post

I m not gonna review every single mechanic in the game, simply things that stood out to me or that i wanna talk about. I also wont add more images, i kinda want ppl to see the world for themselves... i ll share more when the game comes out tho.

There s a lot of text under this. Tldr, i like the game i think it's a solid, enjoyable experience with a good gameplay loop, the story isn't for me, and i'll keep playin of course. And u should try it too if ur device wont blow itself up tryin to run it.

Dress up

The bread and butter of Nikki games... it's good as usual. Game doesn't shy away from long skirts or coat tails or complicated ballgowns just cuz nikki can run and jump and dash now and i'm very happy bout that. There's some clipping issues once in a while, but it's nothing major and the clothes we do have in the game are lovely. There s an evolution system for some of the sets, which makes em a diff color.... usually they can evolve once, but i saw Three extra evolutions for one of the UR sets and that scares me. Bcs to evolve them u have to craft the suit again. So u have to pull 4 copies of a suit to max it out..

Combat

Game's definitely succeeding in its quest for being cozy. There's no real stakes, combat isn't difficult in the slightest but i do welcome it- super simple but it's pretty fun regardless. The boss fights were surprisingly creative and fun for what they are, it's just unfortunate that you have to do them more than once or twice (crafting mats)- but they do change what the boss does so it's different depending on what mat u are farming for... and u can claim double or triple or however much stamina u got-le of the mat after u complete it once. So that s rly nice.

Exploration

I actually think it's really really good. Again this isn't a difficult or complicated game, not yet i guess... but with the major goal being "get new clothes" and "take pretty pictures maybe", the open world feels actively engaging to participate in. There's collectibles everywhere, little challenges you can do that are diverse but quick, styling battles, collecting everythin from animals fur to bugs to fish, and allll of this brings u closer to that never ending goal of woo more clothes.

However even if a challenge doesnt give you a blueprint, it's still just. Really Nice to exist in this world. It's very whimsical, as expected of Lilith, and the world has a combination of realism and cartoon artstyle that is just soso appealing to me. It's genuinely how i would've imagined miraland to look in 3d. Shame it's not the same miraland we know..

Story

Hmm... silly is one word i could use for it. Cute also. The story isn't doin anythin bad per se, and i did start skippin dialogue near the end w the pieceys because i want to keep at least Some part of the story for the game's release... but i get the gist of it, and it s just not my thing.

It feels like a story made for children, and it definitely would get a G rating. Easy and simple to follow, there's moments of tension or sadness sure but with the antagonist bein a literal babie lookin cutey fairy with a grown man's voice, or the creatures that i'm interacting with are a bunch of. Fuckin weird lookin big eyed balls of fabric that look closer to plushies than somethin Alive... it's all so silly and dramatic sometimes i can t help but cringe.

Part of it is a me problem, if u just open ur heart and free urself from the cringe the story is fine. It's just a little too kiddy for me and i so desperately hope it won't stay like this forever. My prayers might be answered though, there's a whole war beyond the borders and we have refugees around... shit's lookin bad for Umbrosa.

Other things i noticed that i liked:

The effect on nikki's skin when it's raining, she actually has water dripping down her face... its so cool

Momo capes are actually kinda neat ngl. Especially cuz the fucker follows u around everywhere, at least i can bedazzle him

Npc models look really good im a fan. They do suffer from "everyone is very beautiful" syndrome, which makes some of the npc villains look/sound ridiculous, but they have kid-teen-adult-elderly versions of models (i never see teen models in these games! Its cool!) And some body variation. The grandmas look so lovely i cry

The dark skin tone is really dark, and it looks quite nice and natural.

The lighting engine in this game is just rly good in general. God bless UE5

The edges of the map where there s forest, which u obv cant go thru, the forest is made to be darker, thicker.... i m a huge fan of this idk y. It's not just *invisible wall in front of an open field* nopee cant go there lets explore that area later tee hee. And it looks good to boot.

Camera function is p robust, has more options for changin brightness/saturation/contrast etc which i feel Shining Nikki lacks.

Some of the creature designs are so good man i looove themm <3.... the pieces are awful tho. Ok creature design is a hit and miss sometimes but the stray hatty? Peak. All the weirdy fashionable animals? Peak.

Bein able to quick switch thru ur saved sets while in the overworld is real neat

Oke that was it. Bye

[werlikesreblogging]

Well i havent posted in a while well, mostly because, i forgor

BUT

wow pretty busy really said fuck you f2p players

I didnt complain untill now so i think i can get a little treat

So ok prepare cause this will be a prob long post or just very well mostly negative about my whole expierence with this game because well I AM PISSED

So I acually first played this game around the time of its release (of couse because of the Leviathan Bath card lmao) but didnt like how the game looked like that much so i quit pretty much as soon as i started

Then my friend got me into it again and well i fell in love with the characters and the plot LITERALLY DONT JUDGE THE BOOK BY ITS COVER

And why am i talking about it well its because it was around the time of christmas gabriel nightmare pass and i was new so i just kinda didnt care about it back then

But now back to the present

so the whole reason im writing this is in the first place is obvs the nightmare pass

Like gabriel one, ppyong one i could live i was like ok it sucks but what can i do i can still get all the 7 kings eventually so thats fine

AND THEN VICTORY LUCIFER NIGHTMARE PASS CAME OUT

AND OMG ok i was like ok im pissed but its probably just the victory cards that will be in the nightmare pass right ?

WELL NO NOW BATH BEEL NOT EVEN A FEW DAYS AFTER LUCIFER'S

both of my favourite characters in a row well how nice

Dont even get me started on how fucked the pricing of it is like i payed for battle passses in games before im not even a total f2p and i was acually considering doing the same here because i mean its a small company and i really like this game so i might as well support it well no. not with this price.

And not only are there no new stories, previous events are payed if u havent read them, oh and if u want to reread them well fuck you too

I honestly havent even read the belphie's event cause i just really dont feel motivated to do it

Maybe its just me but unlocking the character card stories is also a little hard because getting the BEGINNERS candies is just annoying even though it well should be the easiest out of all of them

And the story is what made me get into this game as much as i did

I think it was the first time a game was so perfect for me when it comes to story length, and amount (i tend to get very overwhelmed when theres a lot of content)(I acually quit playing genshin impact after 2 years because there was no skip button)

The 5 chapters, all the events, some of the character's stories i read were all so interesting and fun

and well now we get literally no new content

plus like thats very personal but i would have loved it if this game had some sort of a routine because i feel like everything is such a mess ?

like now we get 3 fucking nigtmare passes in a row, new characters and event are so random and the main story well it left to get milk

also when i say i play this game for the story i really mean it because the battle system is really not my cup of tea overall the game mechanics im just not that big of a fun of that

+just the fact that PB hates that we share content of payed cards with each other but also puts important lore in it just man be fucking for real

I log in everyday just to log in and get my 10 key pull from the pancake shop to feed my gambling addiction and maybe get that mammon or satan attacker cards cause they are the only ones i lack from the ones u can acually get from the standard gacha at the moment

oh and now they erased the free 10 pull from the store huh

well with how little red gems we are getting say goodbye to any gacha in a fucking gacha game

Oh and also i dont know if anyone noticed but now selling S tealeaves gives u 6 pancakes and L tealeaves gives you 9.

3 pancake diffrence. For an S character and L character.

oh and lower grades just dont give you anything really i have like around 14 milion gold and books so yea

and while i wont have that much of a problem cause i already have most cards,most artifact, almost maxxed out bloodshed beelzebub (not his skills)

But now imagine you are a new player trying to get into this game.

And you cant read events unless you pay, u can do the story but i mean u might finish it quickly or it might get hard if u cant get any characters because well doing any gacha at all just got 1000 times harder,you just see another nightmare pass thats just expensive af, oh and a new character comes out and you didnt get lucky with your one ten pull that u managed to get after weeks of working ? well u have to wait 3 months TO MAYBE get it in the standard gacha that well you might do once a week maybe

and so the low maintence game i loved in a span of a few days changed for much much worse

I will probably keep on loging in just to see if maybe anything changes but i dont have my hopes high

ngl with how it looks like rn i doubt even asmodeus for who i was waiting so much for will change my mind about this game

what i need them to do is honestly just bring back the whole previous pancake shop along with this new nightmare one i feel like for me at least selling tealeaves for the normal pancakes and then if i have a lot of it i can changee into nightmare pancakes and then maybe exchange it for some thing would be much cooler and honestly i just want my very easy ten pull back........

for the nightmare passes just make then like i dunno every 3 months even would be better and just make it so that its smth special not neccessary or just make it more affordable for players to acually afford

and i mean what im saying is just random stuff i havent even thought about it that much there might be better ideas for what to do but i honestly wish the best for this game and what is happening right now is just pretty much ruining it for not only me but most players i doubt only f2p, cause even if you pay for a game u need a reason to do it if the game doesnt provide then you might as well go to a diffrent one

Ok i think thats pretty much all there might be more i wanted to say but well i forgor and well im gonna get bubble tea as a treat prob......

[firestorm-can]

And as we bid farewell to Splatoon 3's final regular update, I look back on the past two years of splatting and salmon running and find myself craving even more.

Speaking as someone who's played since the Wii U original, Splatoon 3 has its pros and cons compared to its predecessors--but it offered a lot of welcome Quality of Life changes and new game mechanics that make battling feel so much better than before. The roll and surge were huge game-changers for me, I feel more freedom of movement than ever before in these games.

While the single player modes weren't all that groundbreaking lore-wise, they were still fun in their own right. I'll always rank 1 as the best main story and Octo Expansion as the best expansion, but I still loved playing them when they first came out. With this era basically over, who knows where are humanoid cephalopods will explore next?

As for the Splatfests themselves... err maybe adding a third wheel wasn't the best idea in the long run. Each fest was basically a one-sided affair, with a certain shark-loving octoling taking the most wins. I get that it's hard to balance a huge multiplayer event like this (you're talking to a long-time Altador Cup player), but things felt super-skewed this time around. I doubt adding a fourth item would be much help either, but that's just me.

Whatever comes with Nintendo's new hardware, I hope they can take this franchise even further. Until that day comes, I'll still be playing in the Splatlands so I'm ready for 'em. However, there are other places that still need my attention... and a lot more coming down the line.

Thanks for joining me on this Grand Festival throwback. More Splatoon and other Switch clips to come!

Stay fresh, folks.

[theresattrpgforthat]

Heyo! I just love learning about indie rpgs and you are amazing at showcasing everything! You make me want to play anything you recommend!

With that being said, do you have any recommendations of TTRPGs about dancing? I have a friend that really want to have dance battles, and I really want a system to make it more fun!

THEME: Dancing

Hello, thank you for your kind words! I'm happy that you're enjoying the recommendations that I put together. I have a small selection of interesting games and game-things that you might like to look at.

Corps A Corps, by arisia

Corps à Corps is a GM-optional, stat-raising tabletop RPG about fencers in training. Each player portrays a fencer honing body and spirit in pursuit of future triumphs alongside—or against—each other. Taking its cue from sports drama serials, the game unfolds in a series of scenes depicting training or other bits of daily life in a team. Each scene offers fencers a chance to develop skills or strengthen bonds with each other.

From what I can gather by looking on the store page, I think you could easily re-skin Corps A Corps to be about dance battles, rather than fencing. You play through your story over a series of scenes, which involve training, bonding with your team members, and facing off against rivals. You also begin the game with a series of questions to define the world around you, so I think if you wanted to base this game in a world that you’ve already built in another campaign, you might be able to do that!

If you want to focus on the tension that builds when two opposing sides compete in contests of skill, perhaps consider picking up Corps A Corps.

The Fire In Your Heart, by Justin Joyce.

DANCE THE NIGHT AWAY! MAKE FRIDAY NIGHT UNFORGETTABLE! ALLOW YOUR SOUL TO SHINE THROUGH THE RAW QUIVERING POWER OF RHYTHM! IF YOU MASTER THE HOWLING STYLE, YOU TOO CAN ACHIEVE OLYMPIAN HEIGHTS!

This is a re-skin of the basic moves of Masks: A New Generation themed around DANCE and fighting through the raw might of moves and music. 

Inspired by The Get Down, P4: Dancing All Night, and the karaoke sections of Yakuza, this modification to Masks is meant to emulate the raw feeling and power of letting loose on the dance floor. 

A lot of the moves in this hack look promising, including Lose Your Rhythm, Get Down, and Perceive the Beats.I think it’s really interesting that this game uses the basic Masks system - it feels like you’re teenagers learning about themselves, but through the language of dance, rather than through big battles with super villains. Because the game keeps the Influence mechanic, your status amongst your peers is still vitally important - I like the reinterpretation this game has of your influence being something you can gain on the dance floor. I think it makes the game feel more grounded, while still making the players care about what’s going on with each-other’s characters.

Baka Mitai, by Hipólita

The economic boom of the 80s promised a life of glitzy decadence and endless neon opulence for all. That was a crock of shit, huh? The same fat cats who had it made before have it made now. “ Nowhere is this stark class divide more evident than in Nemuranai, the foremost entertainment district in Tokyo, where grandiose cabarets, casinos and hotels sit next to run-down dwellings, struggling small businesses and homeless camps. And no matter who you are, if you’re not in the pocket of the crime lords, you’re living under their thumb. They have a finger in every pie and they only get greedier and more violent with every passing month, making the lives of working people miserable and difficult.

That’s where you and your friends come in.

Baka Mitai may feel a little bit out of left-field, but when I saw this game I thought of the video game Like A Dragon, which has a sizable side-quest revolving around a dance battle. The core system is very good at allowing you to pick your dice pool first and then describe how you succeed or fail after everyone in the group rolls, and it also distills a number of actions into a single turn, where everyone rolls at the same time. I like the freedom the PARAGON system gives players, as well as the opportunities it gives you for teamwork. If your group wants to enter a dance battle with a local gangster to save some face, you could have one person dancing, another person setting the music, and a third character hyping their friend up to the crowd!

You’ll need the core rules for AGON roleplaying system in order to play this game.

A Dance, A duel, by a.fell.

this is a minigame hacked from and written for games of firebrands by d. vincent baker. sometimes you want to dance, but you're dancing with words or fists instead of steps. sometimes you're dueling, but there's more grace to it. whatever it is, this is the game for it. (of course you could just use the dance or the meeting sword to sword games for that-- but where's the fun in that?)

This is a mini-game that you can add to a Firebrands game or perhaps any game, really, about intimacy, dancing, duelling, and using one to mask the other.

This game has a series of questions, which can be used in either a dance or a duel (or something that is a little bit of both). These questions ask about physical movements, small gestures that carry a larger meaning, and a relationship that changes as you move through each question. If you want to take some time out of a game you’re already playing to focus on two players, or if you just want to explore a small roleplay session through the language of dance, you might like this little mini-game.

The Infinite Dancefloor, by Rat Wave Game House.

"The Infinite Dancefloor is every nightclub and none of them. A sprawling, ever growing, ever shifting venue behind a thousand small doors. A party that never ends. A night where the sun never rises. Unfortunately that can make it a pain to actually leave the Infinite Dancefloor once you’re there. But you and your friends are done. You probably should have left at least two hours ago but you didn’t and now you’re here. You’re separated from one of your gang. You need to find them then find an exit. The Infinite Dancefloor won’t make it easy for you. You’ll need to band together and maybe you’re already a little past that but you don’t have much choice. Let’s get outta here already."

The Infinite Dancefloor is a GMless rpg inspired by those rough nights that could have been good, if you just stopped sooner.  You'll use dice and a tarot/oracle deck to determine and overcome Obstacles in your escape from the title venue, such as finding a friend you've been seperated, facing down other partygoers and confronting the location itself.  The Dancefloor will keep warping you back to the beginning, putting pressure on the cracks in your friendship.

This game is inspired by a music album, called Time Flies, by Ladyhawke, and is meant to be played while listening to the album. It’s a tarot-based game all about retrieving a friend of yours from the dancefloor of a night-clube so that all of you can go home.

While the core theme of the game is more about just trying to take care of your friend, I think that if the group is in agreement, dance can also be a core part of the obstacles that stand in the way between you and being able to leave. Perhaps the DJ has cast a spell on the crowd, making it hard to stop dancing - or perhaps your friend doesn’t want to leave until they win in a dance battle against their nemesis.

While the games’ twists and turns depend on the randomness of the tarot deck, since tarot cards are meant to be loosely interpreted, I think that if you went into this game thinking about your obstacles using dance metaphors, this game might give you a little bit of what you’re looking for.

My Jam, by Eric Mersmann.

My Jam is a larp in which players embody high-school musarchs—magicians whose powers are focused through music—at the biggest dance of the year. During the dance you’ll be able to hang with your friends, pick arguments with your frenemies, and moon over your crush, just like any other high school dance. But when your music is playing, you become the most powerful being on the dance floor—and maybe the entire gymnasium! At the end of the night, one of you will be elected Dance Monarch and enact a powerful ritual that can permanently change the world. 

As a LARP, My Jam looks to be a great option for folks who want to do some actual, physical, in-person dancing. Your dance is more than just the moves you can make - it’s also meant to represent magical powers, attached to pieces of music attributed to each player / character. The game comes with recommendations on curating people’s song choices for the space in which the LARP is being held, as well as a few pre-selected songs to set the tone for different stages of the LARP.

There’s some really neat pieces to this game, including covens, which detail the kind of music you might find power in, as well as a rule that gives each player unlimited power for the duration of whatever song they choose to play. At the end of the dance, the group votes on a Dance Monarch - and this choice will also say something about the school year to come.

You might also like…

I Have the High Ground, by Jess Levine Games.

[beautifulterriblequeen]

Thoughts from Dreamer's Nightmare

Each of Wonderstorm's graphic novels has given us extra content outside the scope of the show, and each has teased us with hints and foreshadowing that fall in line with the greater themes of the multimedia story they're presenting.

Through the Moon gave us a greater understanding of the purpose of the Moon Nexus, which the new trailer has shown will be expanded upon in S7. We got to see the mechanics of rescue and resurrection through Phoe-Phoe's rebirth and Rayla's visit to the world beyond life and death, which foreshadowed Runaan's return in S6.

It also gave Rayla and Callum a reason to hold love and pain in their hearts at the same time, so their struggle to come back together after separation, in S4 and beyond, would mirror the greater struggle of the humans and elves all across Xadia as they try to find ways to stop fighting their endless war and achieve peace and love with one another.

Bloodmoon Huntress gave us a new villain, Kim'dael, who appeared in the show in S5, and set up what feels like a rematch between her and the moonfam. It also gave us Runaan and Rayla's bonding origin story, allowing greater understanding of her heartfelt focus on rescuing him.

We also got the tiniest peek at Keeper L-------'s existence. When Rayla sees him in S7, his lore will expand.

And then there's Runaan and Ethari's relationship, which was expanded a lot in the graphic novel. Whatever we get in S7, we already know that they're an effective battle couple, each with their own strengths, and that they're devoted to each other and work well as a team.

Puzzle House did so much heavy lifting with its foreshadowing, I'm in awe. The unicorns were a fun throughline that no one suspected would lead us to Leola, but it has. The meta moment when we've left the cute childlike area behind and now we're in the dark scary part is delightfully self-aware and holds such importance for the constant growth and maturing themes in the show. The hint that the greater multimedia story of Xadia itself is like a puzzle to be solved is subtle, but accurate. We can find valuable secrets hidden inside if we take the time to think and analyze properly.

Claudia's ability to read Viren's map foreshadows options in S7, and the concept of a pure heart, first touched on with Amaya in S3, is expanded upon here as a real phenomenon that has real in-universe effects, so when we came back to it in S6 with Soren - with comments from Corvus and from Viren - we are left with a much expanded understanding of what that means for him.

So, what does Dreamer's Nightmare have to offer us? Let's take a look. (This is just a high-altitude pass, looking for peaks rising from the fog. I'm not going to delve into every aspect of the book in this post.) The things that stand out to me at similar heights to the other points I've mentioned for the other graphic novels are these:

Callum and Ezran's relationship is fraught during much of this story, even though they do love each other. It's reminiscent of TTM's approach to Rayla and Callum struggling to find common ground despite their fathers' conflict, and I think that's where it's pointing again, too. With Runaan returned, Ezran and Callum will find themselves on opposite sides, despite their love for each other. And they'll have to try to work through that if they want to reach an understanding. Callum and Rayla didn't get there in TTM - it took them much longer, so we might not get a complete and tidy result just from S7.

The dream warden holds the rest of the big themes I see as foreshadowing. They circle around time and identity.

The warden itself was young when it made a friend, and then it lost them. Connection and loss are constant themes in TDP, from all the parents our main five kids have lost, to the choices they make that take them away from each other, to the ways they choose to seek each other out again. The warden lost its connection to the little one it loved, and over time it grew angry, hurtful. This feels like a parallel to Aaravos and his loss of Leola, and the darkening of the star on his chest. Its plan to attack the adults for leaving their dreams behind is similar to Aaravos' grand scheme in some ways.

The other aspect of the dream warden I feel is themey is the time gap and loss of identity it suffers once it's calmed. It returns, and for a moment it is still very alone and uncertain. More than one show character has stood in such a position, and yet more may stand here soon. Rayla stood here when she finally sought Callum out after two years. Runaan is standing here now, between S6 and S7, uncertain where the battle lines have shifted to in his absence, and who is on his side. Aaravos may stand here if he stops causing chaos and truly looks at the people he's been harming. Claudia could stand here as well, seeing the way she's been pushing those who love her away and changing herself in pursuit of her goals. The warden's storm can represent a host of too-big, negative emotions, and plenty of characters carry such a storm inside them.

The hopeful side of the identity moment is that the warden takes on parts of the identity of those supporting it. Little bits of the other creatures live on in it. It is already not as alone as it may feel. It already has support, even before it begins to reach out in dreams for new friends. It's choosing to emulate those who helped, and that will help the warden become a helper itself, once more. A new cycle is beginning, and it can spread to anyone receptive to it, anyone who takes something good and makes it their own and carries it forward to touch other lives. Runaan was not always an assassin. Aaravos was not always a manipulator. Claudia was not always a killer. If you live, you can still learn.

Cycles aren't inherently bad. They're just tools. Big, giant engines, massive cosmic things we build with our will and maintain through our choices - all of us, together.

Here's to Season 7 of The Dragon Prince, and the conclusion of the cycle we've spun together. I'll see you on the other side.

[lowpolynpixelated]

Nightmare Kart: Multi-Track Dreaming

LW Media have done it again. After making one of the best fanworks on the web with “Bloodborne PSX” star developer Lilith Walther has returned to the realm of nightmares to go a little faster this time. How much faster? Somewhere around 200cc or so. Nightmare Kart made its debut on itch.io on June 3rd 2024 and has already become yet another banger from the dev that keeps on giving. First imagined as “Bloodborne Kart” the game hit a minor legal snag and ended up having to scrub any overt references to the Fromsoftware game entirely, leading to its rebranding into the much more original “Nightmare Kart”. But what is Nightmare Kart? And why should you play it? In this article/review I’d like to go over my personal favourite elements as well as some not-so polished ones that all in all make Nightmare Kart an easy sell to anyone looking to have some new fun in an old school way.

Some Background:

If you’ve read my article on Bloodborne PSX you know that I’m a massive fan of LW Media’s previous work. BBPSX was a masterwork in bringing old fashioned clunk to a modern game and letting it thrive on the atmosphere and gameplay quirks that come with something like that. Nightmare Kart is no different. According to Lilith via our previous interview work on Nightmare Kart began not too long after BBPSX released, owing its existence largely to a popular meme used to tease a new Bloodborne game being announced at major gaming shows. Ever since the game’s inception Lilith was hard at work trying to make a kart racer that captured not only the feeling of Bloodborne’s visceral world and combat, but those old school racers we all know and love. I personally am a big fan of Mario Kart 64, and when I got to ask her questions about Nightmare Kart’s development I was delighted to hear that she was taking inspiration from the title. My previous article is linked here as well as Lilith’s tumblr blog and youtube channel where you can see more of the development process in action leading up to the debut of the game.

Nightmare Kart:

So, back to that question I asked before, what is Nightmare Kart? Inspired by kart racer classics like Mario Kart 64, Diddy Kong Racing, and Crash Team Racing, alongside some rather exciting action picks like Halo, Nightmare Kart is a combination kart racer/battler. In the game you take on the role of “The good hunter”, a mysterious person who awakens in a strange world known as the Pocket Dream before taking to the streets of Miralodia, a gothic styled city beset by all sorts of creatures of the night. The game takes you through a brief singleplayer campaign consisting of several races, battle mode matches, and even boss fights showing off an impressive array of gameplay and animated cutscenes. The base gameplay of the racer is closest to those kart racers I mentioned before, with drifting and boosting being a core part of the racing experience. It does however put some unique souls-like spins on a few things, as well as introducing a brake-slide mechanic which allows you to turn on a dime at the cost of your momentum. A true feast for the senses, consisting of graphics and music to rival Bloodborne PSX in their quality, and a truly impressive feat of development prowess. The game, much like its predecessor, feels so at home in its old school roots that I could almost hear the disc whirring in the drive of my non-existent PlayStation as I played through its campaign and tore through some multiplayer battles.

Gameplay:

Let’s talk more about that gameplay for a bit. As mentioned before Nightmare Kart does a superb job at nailing the feeling of an old school kart racer with a modern twist. A large part of that is its more battle-focused gameplay, as the powerups and controls are much more suited for aggression and duking it out at high speed than just simply racing. The first mechanic to show this off is the Blood Droplets system. As you race a number of enemies will spawn on the track and wander around, some will even try to attack racers as they speed past. Running over one of these enemies or destroying them with one of the several weapons on offer nets an amount of “blood droplets”. These function identically to both Blood Echoes in Bloodborne as well as coins in the Mario Kart series. The more droplets you collect, the higher your maximum speed will increase (as indicated by a red sword shaped arrow on your in-game speedometer). There is, however, a limited number of these enemies on a given track. Once they’re all killed you’ll have to turn to alternative means to collect those speed-granting droplets. Most notably, the destruction of your fellow racers. With a small array of weapons at your disposal granted via small powerup sparks scattered throughout the tracks you’ll be able to cut, smash, shoot, or even call down the stars themselves upon your competition to take their droplets as your own. This feature is most important during races, where speed is much more of a focus, but during the battle modes is where the fighting truly shines.

Deathmatch, elimination, capture the flag, and a score mode based around having the most droplets for your team all serve as the real way to show off Nightmare Kart’s strengths. The brake-slide mentioned before serves as your way to stop and aim ranged weapons like the hunter’s pistol and lever action shotgun, or to reposition yourself for a lunging strike with one of the several melee weapons you’re able to slot in to your melee powerup slot. My personal favourite of these were the gatling gun, which straps a four-barreled monster of a gun to the front of a vehicle of your choice allowing for 40 shots of continuous rapid fire destruction, and the spark-cage, a stand in for the Bloodborne Tonitrus which sends you leaping forward in your kart to smash an electrified mace into your opponents. All of this is headed by a health and stamina system much akin to the game’s former namesake. Health dictates damage done and sustained, while stamina is used by dashing. Also consumed by dashing are “Aether Viles”, viles of blue liquid used in groups of 5 to send you careening forward with a burst of speed. Performing tricks off of jumps by tapping the jump button or simple picking them up from a powerup grants you a number of these viles which you can use to bash into enemies or get ahead in the race standings. With everything I’ve talked about here I hope it’s apparent just how fun Nightmare Kart is to play. I had such an amazing time trashing enemies in deathmatch battles and roaring my way through city streets and forbidden forests.

Graphics/Design:

Nightmare Kart boasts a sense of style rivaled only by the game that came before it. Iterating on the already delightfully dated look that BBPSX had, Nightmare Kart takes it to the next level with original characters and environments that give it that trademark PSX feel. Coming with a built in (and customizeable) CRT filter along with a slew of graphical options ranging from texture warp to pixel distortion the game has quite literally never looked better. My entire time with the game was spent marveling at the track design and style that bleeds from every low-poly crease and jittering texture. Twelve vehicles and a variety of playable characters show off the gothic horror inspirations from Bloodborne and otherwise in perfect pixelated glory. Just as with BBPSX the game shows a mastery of the concept of a “demake”, but being built from the ground up as an original concept the game shows off iconic themes and locations leftover from its Bloodborne origins now with a lovingly crafted layer of originality. Fans of PSX horror and modern retro-makes in general will find nothing but some of the best graphical styling from this game’s blood soaked streets and haunted clock towers.

The real star at the center of well crafted textures and wonderfully low-detail models is the track design. Even if it isn’t legally allowed be Bloodborne Kart, its very apparent that the tracks on offer are nothing less than love letters to a wacky concept contained within a genuine respect for the inspirations. The game’s first few tracks do a top notch job at showing off the sort of homage you’d come to expect from a game inspired by Fromsoft’s gothic masterpiece, but soon descend into the depths of creative (and sometimes seemingly sadistic) level design that sets a kart racer apart from its peers. The Forbidden Forest, for example, features a split path laden with traps and lurking enemies that culminates in an upward clime via jump pads that sends you up the decaying innards of a windmill tower. Delving further into the madness sees you drifting your way through a library maze and making daring jumps to catch up with Nicholas, one of the game’s bosses to put him down for good. The inspiration for this game shines through even the mandatory layer of original art, enhancing into a viscerally wild ride from the first look at the endless void of the Pocket Dream to the cramped quarters of the Outsider’s Mansion.

Sound design/Soundtrack:

At last we arrive at what I consider to be the true highlight of Nightmare Kart. Continuing from BBPSX’s beautifully bitcrushed audio design Nightmare Kart wastes absolutely no time showing off just how much work was put into making the nightmare sound as good as it looks. One thing in particular that stuck with me was the animated cutscenes seen throughout the singleplayer campaign. Fully voice acted and entirely animated the voices in the scenes remind me of the best of the best PlayStation VA work. Extending a massive amount of congratulations to the entire voice cast, which the game’s developer Lilith Walther also provided a performance for. Those sweet filtered voices are only the beginning though, as Nightmare Kart’s soundtrack explodes into a symphony of haunted house jams and retro bangers right from the first screen. I find myself left without a whole lot to say other than just how good the soundtrack is. Composer Evalyn Lark destroyed any doubts I could have had about the game’s soundtrack not living up to the hype that the concept drummed up. The full soundtrack is available on youtube as well as other streaming services and will also be linked in this article for your listening pleasure. A short but sweet section for a set of tunes that I truly feel need to speak for themselves.

Full soundtrack

A sweet nightmare, and everything that comes with it

This section is a bit different from what I usually do in reviews like this. As I don’t have a second interview with Ms. Walther and I want this to be just as much a discussion about the game as well as a glowing review, I’d like to go over the less than stellar things I experienced while I sped my way through the horrors and bloodsoaked nightmare visions. I’d like to start off this section with this: This article/review is a work of opinion, not objective fact. Everything I put here is based on my own experience with the game. I also understand that in the modern video game landscape we exist in a time where games can receive updates and patches to repair and alter things that might be grinding or frustrating to players. I say all of this out of profuse respect for Ms. Walther and all of those who worked on Nightmare Kart, so that my words cannot be taken as damning evidence that this game is anything other than fun.

Nightmare Kart is above all else, an indie game in the purest meaning of the phrase. Developed by a small team on a small (by video game standards) budget and released entirely for free for anyone to enjoy. Because of this it does suffer from some standard if not frustrating bugs and glitches that made my experience with it nearly perfect, but not quite. Every game (especially today) has it’s rough edges. And with one trying to have so many on purpose (visually anyway) it was bound to have something in it that didn’t function one hundred percent of the time, or something out of place at random intervals.

Common glitches I encountered while playing:

- Hitting walls and ending up underneath the map (this has a minor fix already in the game in the form of a respawn option)

- Controls not being recognized after being hit by an enemy weapon, requiring me to either repress buttons or restart the match/race

- Powerups not actually firing off but being consumed anyway

Please keep in mind that these three things are glitches and do have the potential to be patched out. However, even if they weren’t, I think they added to the charm of the game either way. What was also a part of the charm and became somewhat grating as the game went on were some things I feel work against the games sense of flow and speed that the races would have you want to achieve. These notes are not comprehensive, and come from a place of constructive criticism only. The first frustrating element came in the form of the game’s strict adherence to a retro draw distance. Most of the tracks in the game are enveloped in a dark fog after a certain point, and the track becomes revealed to you as you ride or drive. This works wonders for the atmosphere, but tended to work against me when I was gaining speed and using my aether boosts, only to run face first into a wall because I couldn’t see the turn coming. Moving on from that but in the same vein, running into things can lead into some frustrating moments as well. Some objects and even enemies have hitboxes a fair bit larger than what it would appear. There were several times I tried to skirt past a crucified beast or stack of unbreakable boxes only for a seemingly small part of my cart to clip it, causing the entirety of my speed and momentum to be lost along with my placement. Getting stuck on one of these objects is a different beast entirely, as sometimes the objects invisible hitbox stops you from turning or accelerating altogether until you physically use the reverse button and reorient yourself. On top of all of this, and I’ve certainly seen people state this in far less kind ways, I do feel like the game’s campaign is a bit too easy. Now please keep in mind I did not go into Nightmare Kart expecting a high skill ceiling challenge that would test my mettle at every turn. I also didn’t expect to essentially go on a joyride through the nightmare’s scenic vistas and town squares while a host of NPC drivers waged war with each other far behind me, occasionally sending a volley of stars my way which did very little to actually slow me down. Combined with the fact that enemies didn’t seem to respawn once killed, I found myself with shockingly little to do other than just drive and go for style points on the jumps as I stayed well ahead of the pack. This issue, I will add, was exclusive to the campaign’s races. I found the AI was much more suited for battling it out in the boss battles and other versus modes, the elimination match at the end of the game being a particular highlight of an absolute brawl. None of these issues stand to ruin any part of Nightmare Kart’s fun. Video games are hard to make, and not a single one of them can ever claim to be perfect. These just stand as notes from a personal perspective, meant to offer a bit of a look at what someone jumping into the game and playing it start to finish might experience.

Closing Thoughts:

If you’re looking for something fun to play this summer I can’t recommend Nightmare Kart enough. It really does echo the days of playing head to head with friends in wacky kart racers and deathmatch games, going as far as to combine the two into easily one of the most fun kart games I’ve ever played. If you liked what you read here or would otherwise like to support LW Media’s endeavors, I’ve linked the official itch.io page and steam page for Nightmare Kart below, along with the LW Media patreon and (yet another) link to my previous article on Bloodborne PSX. Thank you so much for reading, now go shred those radical streets.

Links:

Nightmare Kart

Steam

itch.io

LWMedia Patreon

Bloodborne PSX Article

[homestuckreplay]

if EOA1 is so good how come there's no EOA2??

(page 533-541)

8/24/2009 Wheel Spin: Parent Bad :( Verdict: Child Bad (Destroying House)

8/25/2009 Wheel Spin: Dramatic Irony Verdict: We, The Audience, Know Nothing

The bathtub returns! The imp/bathtub comedy routine is fun (and this is my favorite color palette I’ve seen for an imp yet) and I’m delighted to finally see the RANCOROUS mood put to use. Some of these pages have very cool visuals – p.535 is very well animated, where we see through the wall x-ray vision style with a fuzzy view of the study, and then when the bathtub smashes through the wall, the inside of the hole comes into focus. John gazing up through the ceiling holes at the first gate far above on p.539 is also great. And Rose and John’s radically different ideas of what might be in Dad’s room nicely highlights their different view of parental figures. John goes for the simplest explanation, tied to the one personality trait he most associated with his dad, while Rose is second guessing everything, and assumes that parents are keeping sinister secrets.

I’m still enjoying Homestuck, there’s still a lot to love, but Act 2 is feeling very directionless right now. This past week or so is the clearest it’s ever been that this story is written by reader suggestions, a large group of people who all have different goals concerning the characters and plot. It’s very much the session of a D&D campaign where the players get distracted roleplaying with every shopkeep in town and the DM does nothing to guide them forward on their party’s quest. It is easy to forgive Act 1 for this or even not notice it, because it’s doing the hard work of setting up the world, and we learn new things every page even when nothing is ‘happening.’ I have less patience with it in Act 2, now that we have a bunch of lore and mechanics setting up what looks to be an incredible story.

The Act 2 thumbnails have gone onto a second line on the adventure map, so it seems like this act is not coming to its end any time soon. Act 1 kicked into high gear at around the 70-75% mark with the Cruxtruder’s countdown, and I’m hoping something similar will happen soon with Act 2. Even if it continues to meander along the way, I think having a Clearly Defined Goal for the act would improve the story a lot.

Some possible ideas for what this endpoint could be:

The nebulous danger surrounding Rose’s house becomes more pronounced, causing the generator or mausoleum to catch fire, making her entry into the game more urgent

Dave successfully installs the game, and Rose now has to navigate the alchemy process outdoors while battling the elements

John hits another ‘plot tunnel’ in Sburb where his progression towards the First Gate is now immediately necessary or else he risks losing the game, possibly an advance by the forces of darkness against the forces of light

John finds something in the safe in the study and/or in his dad’s room that either puts more urgency on finding his dad, or gives John a different quest unrelated to the game, causing his and Rose’s goals to be at odds

Some potential obstacles that could show up on the way to these goals:

Dave’s brother shows up and tries to prevent him from getting the Sburb Beta, similar to Dad blocking John on p.90

GG is introduced and impacts the story in some way, perhaps trying to get their friends to quit Sburb due to foreseeing its dangers to them

The Vagabond gets John seriously hurt by giving him irrelevant commands while Rose isn’t able to save him from dangerous

The damage Rose is causing to John’s house from throwing furniture through the walls causes its foundations to become unstable, threatening to topple all the building work done so far

A new and more dangerous enemy type, such as a rook, spawns in John’s house

John himself is unable to access his dad’s room, due to the same field of static Sburb has set up, until he completes a different quest

I’ll stay patient, and I definitely won’t stop reading just because the story is taking its time, but I am keeping an eye out for these moments that there’s no coming back from.

[its-dean]

I’ve been posting on other online platforms about Fossil Fighters for a long time now, and most who are familiar with what I share know that a lot of my content has a heavy focus on original vivosaur ideas. With these vivosaurs I come up with, as well as the stats I create to go with them, I notice that there are often people questioning whether what I come up with would be balanced or not from a gameplay standpoint.

As I’ve gone on with developing this unique vision for my vivosaurs, I’ve also slowly refined my idea of Fossil Battles entirely. All of us are aware that both the original Fossil Fighters and Fossil Fighters Champions don’t have the best balancing in the world. There are certain cast members and even a few core game mechanics that allow so many otherwise memorable characters to fall to the wayside, and with the stats I was coming up with I was only further encouraging that type of hostile environment. The more I worried about whether something I was coming up with would feel realistic or balanced the more I considered the fact that the formula itself may have been broken in the first place.

There have been others in the community that have projected their own ideas of how to change things up regarding gameplay, things like adding new elements or even having customizable skills. Because the series felt like it had ended so suddenly there's become so much to dream for in a potential sequel. These are the people that inspired me to attempt something similar myself back when I was making my vivosaur last year. It inspired me to take a step back with my thinking and ultimately led to me creating a total re-imagining of the classic battle system we all know and love. 

That's the thing, the games may not be perfectly balanced, but I always find how these games work to be something that's just inherently fun in a very unique way. Above everything else, with this project I wanted the new system I was creating to still have the "feel" of having a good old-fashioned Fossil Battle. These games have incredible potential for an interesting competitive landscape, just if only some of those unbalanced mechanics were to be adjusted. This is what I strive to achieve the most with my ideas: an environment where every vivosaur has something practical to them, a format where you CAN win using your favorite vivosaurs. The only thing that should stop you is how well thought-out and unique of a strategy you can come up with.

Fossil Fighters Odyssey is a personal project of mine that I've technically been working on for over half a decade now. Still, I think it's most important to stress the fact that everything I come up with and will be talking about in this post is for fun. This shouldn't explicitly be seen as a vehicle for a potential fan game, I make these things for my own enjoyment and have no plans or obligations to turn any of these ideas into tangible content in the future. We all can pretty unanimously agree that it’s fun to dream about a theoretical continuation of this franchise, especially because of how it felt like it came to such an abrupt halt in a way none of us were really ready for. This project is simply meant to represent the changes I'd most want to see if that were to ever somehow happen, and that vision of mine simply might not appeal to your individual preferences.

But now moving to the fun stuff itself. I strive to be as in-depth as possible when taking into account how I would rework the gameplay, taking a comprehensive look at the entire series. To keep things feeling familiar while also feeling like an "evolution" of sorts, I found it most compelling to try and utilize standout mechanics from all three of the previous games. Yes, that includes Frontier because, while I can't defend its battle system as a whole, I do think there are some features it introduced that can really enhance potential team building and strategy (mainly referring to the boost system it uses).

Since there are far too many changes to cover in a text post, I created a PowerPoint to explain everything in a more presentable and organized way. The link to it can be found directly below this paragraph, with the presentation being separated in order of different areas of discussion, from how vivosaurs have changed to the differences in the battle system to new and altered abilities and so much more! Plus, attached to this post are the stat sheets for every single vivosaur, #1-300. My own vivosaurs as well as the 10 unique vivosaurs from Frontier are included in the lineup, and all the vivosaurs you're already familiar with have received numerous changes and enhancements to their skill sets so that they can thrive in this new Fossil Battling format.

Link to the PowerPoint (in case the picture quality is too poor to be able to read on this website)

FFO Mechanics.pptx

Link to all 300 vivosaurs and their stat sheets:

FFO All Vivosaurs.pptx

(Disclaimer: not all of the vivosaurs have artwork to correspond with their dino medals, but those will be hopefully trickling out down the line in the future.)

To round things out, I definitely want to thank the people that have already been supporting me and the things I create these past few years elsewhere. Without the level of the recognition and approval I see from the people who always respond to what I make, I definitely never would've come this far with developing my ideas. You guys are the ones who've been enjoying these things, from vivosaurs to characters to the overarching story I hope to one day be able to share with you all. I owe it to you for allowing myself to become as invested in my favorite series as I now am. And hey, depending on how people react to what I have here I may make another post outlining the more creative story and character elements I have in mind… 

Thank you to everyone who's been there for all this time, as well as anyone willing to read through everything I've been able to put together here, this project never could've been completed without you all for me to share it with.