#io has an answer of a sort

[theinfiknight]

What if the characters of Discworld were Avatars of the 15 fears from the Magnus Archives?

Now, just a disclaimer, this is just my personal opinion of which character would best fit the bill. Regardless if you agree or disagree, feel absolutely free to do so either way. Also, obvious spoilers for the books excepting Shepherd's Crown and Raising Steam.

The Web:

This one is obvious and can be no one other than Lord Vetinari himself. An absolute master of subtle manipulation and long term planning, Vetinari is the perfect Avatar of the Web. He creates a reputation of pervasive fear and makes people believe that he could do away with them at a whim, despite him never once killing a single person who wasn't an irredeemable criminal of some sort, and even then usually giving them chances to redeem themselves first. This being the case, I'd say Lady Margolotta is also an Avatar, and the one who exposed Havelock to the Web in the first place.

The Hunt:

The most stereotypical aspect of the Hunt is manifested most by Wolfgang von Uberwald, the textbook Hunter who chases and kills for the thrill of it. Both Sam Vimes and Angua hear the call of the Blood, but both refuse to heed it, and so aren't Avatars. I'd argue that there's another Avatar of the Hunt fulfilling the other role, created by the Hunt to be the perpetually hunted, the never caught but ever pursued white stag/ golden doe, the one, though not only, Rincewind.

The Eye:

One Avatar is Jeannie and every Kelda before and after her. The Kelda sees everything and knows what has happened and what will. The alternate answer is Blind Io, given his literal eyeballs that float around and also that he's cognizant of everything that goes on in the Disc, and that everyone knows he's watching.

The Spiral:

The Elf Queen. The undisputed master of illusion and deception, creating false worlds that operate on her rules, trapping people in unreal dreams they cannot escape, making them see and believe what she wants them to see and believe. Bel Shamharoth is also a possible answer given how he distorts the senses and feeds on those he traps.

The Buried:

Albrecht Albrechtsson. Knockermen are undoubtedly Avatars of the Buried, with the complex stew of fear and reverence they feel for the underground, and Albrecht is the lowest among them. Agi Hammerthief is probably the only fully realised Avatar of the Buried, who dwells beneath the Disc where no one will ever reach him.

The Flesh:

The Igors and Nutt. The Igors for obvious reasons, their affinity for tinkering with bodies, and their indisputable understanding of the fact that meat is meat, and as such can be used for a lot more than its original intention. Nutt because he is a creation of said tinkering, flesh made warped, with a living engine of meat inside him.

The End:

Mort and Bill Door, and possibly every zombie. This really needs no explanation. Mort stepping into his Master's role is the textbook descent of a human into Avatarhood, developing strange powers and slowly becoming Other. I'm not counting Death because he is the personification of the thing and isn't human enough to qualify as an Avatar, and I'm not counting Susan because she never carried out the Duty.

The Slaughter:

Carcer, the Gonne, and Cohen the Barbarian. Carcer killed for the fun of it with no care for reasoning, consequence or morality. He WAS a one man slaughter by himself. Cohen's existence was also very similar to Carcer's, albeit he killed far more people and lived by a Code that ensured that though he mass murdered on the regular, he always did it with the same honesty as a man hunting for his next meal. As such perhaps Cohen was more an impersonal personification of the Slaughter like the Piper rather than an Avatar of it. The Gonne was more an a artifact that channeled the Slaughter into whoever held it, be it D'Eath, Cruces or even Vimes.

The Corruption:

Vorbis and the Cunning Man. Vorbis absolutely embodies the toxicity and insidious creeping infestation of the Corruption. He pollutes organisations and people, changing them and turning them into versions of himself, utilising extremely unhealthy relationship dynamics in order to do so, creating an atmosphere ripe with fear, desperation and despair. The Cunning Man is similar except his method of corruption is more direct than Vorbis's ie literally taking over the body of his victim while subtly influencing the minds of those around him when he's less corporeal. His presence is filth of the mind and stench of the soul, and incites disgust and fear among those aware of his true nature.

The Stranger:

I had some trouble with this but finally decided on Susan and Lu Tze. Although one would intuitively put Susan under The End, in practice the characteristics she actually exhibits line up more with the Stranger. She walks unseen among others, unknown in the places she passes through, never usually staying very long in one place unless that happens to be her dwelling at that time. Her presence unsettles people. She doesn't fit in among others and has always been set apart. She's too undead to be truly alive and too alive to be truly undead. The only people who really know her are Death and Time. To everyone else, she's a stranger they see sometimes.

And Lu Tze, of course, is just the Sweeper. No one knows the first thing about him apart from the fact that he happens to be there. He's a part of the background of whenever he is. If anyone ever truly Looked at him, and actually noticed what they saw, that he's in fact a stranger in their midst, the first words out of their mouths would be "I do not know you"

The Desolation:

Stratford, Spider the Rat King, and Ipslore the Red. Stratford was a motherfucker who would bleed every last drop before abandoning the corpse he created. This was a bastard who, wishing to cause Vimes as much pain as he could, chose to target his son rather than seek him out directly. A man after the Desolation's own heart. Spider was out for everything the humans had. It wanted their utter ruin and destruction and was well on its way to achieving it. And Ipslore attempted to destroy the whole world with his resentment, using and abusing his own son as his instrument to do so, and would have succeeded too, if it weren't for some idiot with a half brick in a sock.

The Extinction:

The Things from the Dungeon Dimensions. The Extinction is the end of the rule of Man and their replacement with the horrifying Other. And there's nothing that fits that description better than the Things from the Dungeon Dimensions, constantly seeking to bring about exactly what the Fear is.

The Lonely:

This was difficult to decide as well, but I believe the First Tooth Fairy might qualify. Living literally locked up in a bubble separate from the rest of reality, it lives apart from everyone and everything else, keeping alone for all eternity. Additionally, I believe that every living witch(with the exception of Nanny Ogg) carries a piece of the Lonely inside them. Its influence never goes away, and those who succumb to it are the ones who become cacklers.

The Vast:

Tiffany Aching and, funnily enough, a Simon once again. Tiffany's primary source of power is that she is, at her core, something far bigger than herself. She may be just Tiffany but she is also Land under Wave, the power and will of millions of years of life before her. At her most powerful she is aware of EVERYTHING, from the bones of the flint beneath the chalk to time itself to the stars being born in the distant sky. She is small but she is also Vast. And Simon sees the whole universe and truly understands what he's looking at. He sees and understands more than he can express and his knowledge of the Vast almost approaches comprehension.

The Dark:

The one, though once again not only, Samuel Vimes. There couldn't be any other answer here. The dark walks with him. He was born in it, moulded by it... By the time he saw the light it was nothing more than BLINDING. But yeah, he is most at peace in the true dark in the pissing rain on the cobbles, even before he was literally possessed by the living darkness itself. The dark aids him and talks to him. The dwarfs and the goblins may live in the dark, but Sam Vimes looked into the Abyss, and he wasn't the one who blinked.

[youredreamingofroo]

📩 Simblr question of the day: Who's your biggest inspiration/s on Simblr? Mention them! Tell us why you like them!

honestly probably could've made an 800 page essay on people who inspire me on simblr, but these are my BIGGEST biggest inspirations :P

@minimooberry : Honestly, she's the reason why I even pursued rendering in blender and her stuff is probably the only reason why I even joined Simblr to begin with 🥹

@stellarfalls : Bree, the LEGEND, has inspired me in a lot of ways but the biggest one was her GIFS... I remember seeing her post of Rohan and Hana's first meeting and that sparked a light in my chest... I wanted oh so badly to make Gifs as good as her... I'm getting there but we all have different styles so it'll never be exact and I know my gifs will be good in their own way 🫶

@birdietrait : Their overall sim style just... idk its so good and loved it when I first saw their posts 🥹

@groovetrys : Her general editing style was a HUGE inspiration for me, I can't quite explain or pinpoint it but I LOVE her editing its sooo aesthetically pleasing

@slightly-ludic : This is a bit of a smaller detail, but I just LOVE how Jade edits her globetrotter screenshots, I love the sort of narrator perspective in the text and I've started to try and do something similar in Make the Most of It :)

@mattodore : So i've always loved being passionate about my characters (hence why Roo still exists 5 years later), but seeing River's blog and how IN DEPTH they go for Theo and Matthias (and their other OCs ofc) and how much passion they have for their characters inspired me to get more into the blood and guts of my characters, I don't think I'll ever get there exactly cuz I feel like u could ask River what Theo was doing on February 9th 2018 and they'd have an answer and I would not LMFAOO

@rebouks : I am just overall VERY inspired by Becca, but she's one of the people who got me inspired to start making more poses (albeit I was already into making my own poses, she definitely bumped that inspo) and I'm very inspired by her storytelling, its SO good and feels soooooo human

@buttertrait @miralure @acuar-io : squishing these three together because all their vibes just make me so happy and inspired or at least allowed me to feel like I can be myself in this community (mainly cuz their vibes are similar to the vibes of people I like and am friends with irl)

@torissims : her whole aesthetic is just something that I ASPIRE to have... like the vibes of her yesterday save posts are just MWAH chefs kiss man

@missatan : (nat getting all my love today damn LMAO) I don't think my renders will ever be as 8K ultra HD 5 billion pixel quality as hers, but the symbolism behind them and just how good they look have inspired me to at least WANT to do/get better at rendering

some of these might not really be classified as "inspirations" but I still felt like sharing my adoration for these people - There's SO many more people I could've @'d but felt these were my very VERY best inspirations.

I should mention that all my mutuals inspire me one way or another, the community as a whole has inspired me to be kinder and inspired me to just spout my adoration for peoples' work

[sentience-if]

Omg hi sorry if this has already been asked xoxo

How would crushing RO’s react to Io talking sweetly about them to friends not knowing their could hear?

And/or how would RO’s try and goad Io into admitting they loved them?

i have answered the first, sort of. The answers would basically be the same 🤭 so here's the second question

Val: just straight-up whining and melodramatic begging. Tell me you love meeeeee~ quick, before I shrivel up and die of being unloved

Connie: not much for goading, really, especially with someone they actually like. Connie'd rather never hear it than push Io into it. Or so they tell themself, anyway

Ira: goading is also not the right word for Ira, but they might fish for it. Saying it first, leaving space and opportunities for it, but never out-right provoking it. Ira's patient.

kat: Says it for Io. I know you love me, you don't even have to say it. Is this pointed? Is it a little bit of a guilt trip? Maybe. But in Kat's brain she's doing Io a favor and nipping any anxiety in the bud

klaus: *gestures broadly at everything Klaus has ever said or done*

[thefirstknife]

Hey Bel, I was wondering if you or one of your followers might be able to give me a rundown on the Nine, specifically as related to Prophecy; I just recently read the Ishtar entry on Eris and Drifter’s dialogue that (used to I guess) play throughout, and I’m pretty lost as to how Orin became the Emissary, how Eris knew her, why the Nine made her their Emissary, what their answer to the questions posed by us might mean now that we know so much more about Light and Darkness, that sort of thing? You’ve probably answered something like this before so feel free to kick me in that direction if so lol. Thanks for all you do for the community! 🩷🩷

No problem!

You can still get all dialogues in Prophecy! You get some at the start, and ofc at the end, but when you return to the big deserted area after defeating the second encounter, you can get dialogues. However, you have to find the little copy of the Emissary just floating around on each of the areas.

So, "the wasteland" (the big desert area) has 5 locations that are from the planets that were taken by the Pyramids at the end of Arrivals (for some reason, two for Mercury). When you get back to this area after the cube encounter, the Emissary will spawn in a specific order. It's always Titan first; if you don't go there first, you won't see her on other areas. After Titan, it's Mercury (Infinite Forest gate), then Io and then Mars. You can watch them all here: there's several per location. Alternatively, if you have the time and patience in-game, you can listen to them once, then kill yourself before you proceed to the next encounter. That will wipe you and restart you in the area and you'll be able to listen to them again. Sometimes you'll get repeating lines, but sometimes new ones will play.

Orin's story is detailed in her lore book, Ecdysis! In short, she was one of the passengers on the Yang Liwei, so the original Awoken in the Distributary. She was friends with Sjur! After leaving the Distributary, she left to Earth where she ends up dying and becoming a Guardian (Titan). Later down the line, after Mara met her again (this time as a Guardian), Mara tasked her with helping figure out how Sjur died. This is the start of her connection to the Nine.

Sjur "died" mysteriously and only a strange coin was found on her body. A strange coin is the little relic that is associated with Xur and therefore the Nine. In her search, Orin found Xur (and got terrified, resulting in breaking his back with her hammer; this is why Xur is standing that way, his back is broken). Her meeting with Xur left her somewhat changed and she started experiencing weird things that were pulling her to the Nine. Over time, she also met the Drifter and after realising that he lied to her about his identity, she snapped and went to look for the Nine full-time. She found them and became the Emissary.

I don't think it's ever specified how she and Eris knew each other, but it is most likely through Mara (if there's any piece of lore that explains this, feel free to share). But yeah Drifter confirmed they were friends "back in the day."

The whole conclusion to Prophecy is really interesting for us now because it shows that it was essentially... well. A prophecy. The Nine used it to tell us that the Light and Darkness are not some sort of moral opposing forces (confirmed now) and that they're both just tools that can be used in different ways, for both good and bad (also confirmed). This idea is also present in the mechanics as well, as we have to utilise both light and dark to progress and get things done.

It's a really cool dungeon! Though a lot of the context is now missing. It came out in Arrivals as a sort of precursor to the planets leaving, which is why there's a lot of imagery about them, especially the wasteland. It was also a sort of an intro into how we'll eventually need to use stasis, by showing us that Light and Darkness are tools we can use and that we shouldn't be rejecting the Darkness on the idea that it's inherently something bad (or that the Light is inherently good).

[flecks-of-stardust]

calling the astrophysicists and planetary scientists of rain world

hi i'm a little bit fucking nuts, but i'm curious about this and hopefully someone on tumblr has an answer for me. tl;dr: i got myself into trying to figure out whether it was possible (following our laws of physics; if you want to reinvent physics, be my guest) for a planet to have a significantly shorter period of daytime as compared to nighttime on average, so something like a day-night cycle where daytime is 12 earth hours, while nighttime is 1 earth week. it doesn't have to be that extreme though, at minimum i just want to figure out if it's possible to have an uneven day-night length.

the reason this is relevant to rain world is because i'm trying to work with this idea as a possible explanation for why hibernation is called 'hibernation,' since having a night time this long, due to a whole host of issues like temperature outside, would force any life to take shelter until daylight returned. obviously not everything about rain world can be made applicable to our laws of physics; we don't have anything resembling void fluid, and that's. probably a good thing, but it means anything void fluid related, we can't really predict in terms of planetary science, so i've mostly been ignoring that.

going to add a cut here because the longer this post goes the more unhinged it's going to be. but if you don't want to read the rest of this, proposal for you: planet rain world is actually a moon of a bigger planet.

that crack theory is something i settled on because based on what i've looked at so far, it doesn't seem possible for a normal planet to have such a staggered day-night cycle? not unless it's tidally locked with its sun, sort of like what mercury has going on in our solar system, but tidal locking with the sun is probably not a great thing for life in any capacity, so that's not what i'm going with. the concept here is that due to planet rain world being a moon of a bigger planet, there is a portion of time it spends completely behind the bigger planet, thereby being completely blocked from receiving sunlight. i don't know if this idea alone is even possible; our own moon doesn't seem to be blocked from receiving sunlight by being behind earth, but our moon is also tidally locked with earth and it's god damn gigantic for a moon, so i don't know if it's a good point of comparison. i haven't got around to looking at jupiter or saturn's moons yet, especially io, but i ran out of steam before i got to that point, so i don't think it's happening.

this obviously gets into a lot of problems. how big is planet rain world and how big would the planet it's orbiting be? where are both of them in their solar system? how many other planets are in the solar system? what's the orbital path of both planetary objects? their rotational velocity? orbital velocity? axial tilt? geoactivity? among probably other questions that i can't even think of right now. there's also the factor of planet rain world very obviously having a moon of its own, which is theoretically possible (hence why i brought up io earlier), but we haven't found any planets with submoons yet. what i did find said that submoons are very likely to have unstable orbits that will result in either the bigger planet adopting the moon, or the submoon spiraling into the moon and crashing into it, and both of these scenarios probably did not happen with planet rain world (or... not yet? up to you i guess). there's also other concerns regarding planet habitability, stuff related to climate and atmosphere and evolution and what have you, but i'm not going to keep going here. point is, there's a lot of complicating factors, ones that i don't know how to contend with. i'm not an astrophysicist or a planetary scientist, i'm a biologist that's way out of their depth. the furthest i got was this:

this doubles as an image description, but there's a lot going on in this. the orange quarter circle in the bottom left is the solar system's sun. the blurple circle in the middle is the big planet, and the partially black circles on an elliptical path around it is planet rain world. the orange parts on it are a marker of the sunlight exposure they're getting, while the blurple parts are where the big planet blocks sunlight from reaching planet rain world. (if you actually bother drawing lines on the left side of the orbit, you'll see that the point where planet rain world is starting to loop back around to the starting position but is still partially blocked by the big planet is not, in fact, actually blocked by the big planet. i... drew this in medibang.) so obviously the half of planet rain world that faces the sun is going to get sunlight, except when it's behind the big planet, wherein it'll get no sunlight. the white dots on them are a marker for a particular position on the planet, showing how it's spinning counterclockwise as it orbits the big planet. it also completes one full revolution in only half of its orbital path, so it takes approximately two full revolutions to get sunlight again. the yellow ellipses and the dark yellow dots on them represent the moons of planet rain world, orbiting it quickly clockwise.

i know i am making so, so many assumptions here and i don't even know if this works at all. but i'm way out of my depth here and i gave it my best shot. the elliptical orbits are just... i'm pretty sure a circular orbit wouldn't give me what i'm trying to go for regarding daylight length? that's really the main reason, and also just. single planet systems are more likely to have planetary bodies that orbit elliptically, from what i've read. but that's about all i know. if anyone else knows more than i do and is interested in taking up this theory themself, feel free, and let me know if you ever figure something out, i would love to know as well. otherwise... dunno. consider the crack theory. if you want.

also because it's space, i made a version with a dark background and stars:

[hpowellsmith]

Werewolf: The Apocalypse—The Book of Hungry Names will be out April 25!

There's a free demo up now!

You and your shattered werewolf pack must save the living Earth with Rage and spirit! In this interactive novel with hundreds of choices, can you defeat a Wyrm Spirit who manifests as a lie that you want to believe?

Werewolf: The Apocalypse — The Book of Hungry Names is an interactive novel by Kyle Marquis set in the World of Darkness. It's entirely text-based, without graphics or sound effects, and fueled by the vast, unstoppable power of your imagination.

Shapeshifter. Mystic. Hero. Monster. You are a werewolf, and you are all these things. Werewolves are the living earth's last guardians, created by Gaia, given the gift of shifting between human and wolf forms, and called to stop humanity from destroying the world.

But you have failed.

Three years ago, packs of werewolves worked together as a Sept in Broad Brook, Massachusetts, battling the Wyrm, the enemy of Gaia. While other Septs fell to the Wyrm or tore themselves apart with fratricidal Rage, Broad Brook thrived. Some said they would be the ones to stop the Apocalypse.

But in one night, a Wyrm Spirit called "the Answering Tiger" destroyed the Broad Brook Sept and defiled its caern. In fact, Broad Brook had never been thriving at all. The Tiger had deceived their senses, disordered their thoughts, and turned them against one another. Where the different tribes saw trust, in truth there was resentment and growing Rage. Where the different packs saw safety, there were security flaws that could be exploited. Where they saw the Wyrm, there were innocents that they massacred, before reporting to other Septs about another glorious victory.

Their cruel pride allowed the Wyrm Spirit to deceive them, and they mostly destroyed themselves. The Answering Tiger had servants, too, monstrous Banes and fomori, and even werewolves sworn to the Wyrm. But they were only there to pick off whoever was left.

Now, the Stormcat, once the Patron Spirit of the Broad Brook Sept, has called upon you to rebuild a pack from the survivors and fight back against the Answering Tiger. In the savage woods and decaying towns of New England, you will forge your own legend.

Build Your Pack. Human and werewolf survivors haunt the woods and hide in the cities: find them to learn what happened and to rebuild the werewolf nation. But not all werewolves can be trusted: shun those wolves consumed by Rage, and pity those who have lost the Wolf and become empty shells.

Survive the Wilds. A desperate exile, shunned by those of your old pack who have abandoned their oaths to Gaia, you'll have to survive by your wits. A winter night can kill as surely as any monster: find shelter, seek allies among spirits and humans, and learn how far you'll go to survive.

Unleash Your Rage. You are one of Gaia's monsters, a living weapon, herald of horror and death. Now the Apocalypse is here: wield your Rage with savage cunning and keen discretion, or it will swallow you whole.

Play as male, female, or nonbinary; befriend or romance werewolves and humans of all genders.

Shapeshift among five forms to slaughter your enemies, or outwit them to take what you need.

Choose your auspice (moon-sign) and your werewolf tribe to learn what sort of monster you are. Play as a Bone Gnawer, Child of Gaia, Glass Walker, Shadow Lord, or Silver Fang.

Claim your territory and heal the spirits there to unlock Gifts that let you summon animals, see into the past, or enter the spirit world.

Play free demo

Wishlist on Steam

Preregister on Google Play

Preorder on iOS

[ask-orchidthemew]

Europa, Ganymede, and Io are open for asks!

ASK: Honestly Pali, don't waste your time on that dick. He doesn't deserve to be a part of your life if all he'll do is treat you like trash.

PALI: I agree. Obviously going our separate ways was working. I'll be sure to return to the status quo... right after I find out where he's going. And maybe beat some answers out of him. Dialga, why is he going all the way out here? Oh, he stopped?

AEON: Hello, wildcat. We take it everything has been running smoothly on your end?

ORCHID: Ugh, more or less. Found something that could lead me to my lost memories. Went through hell to get it, though..

PALI: Is he... is he talking to someone!? Oh Dialga has he actually gone mad?

AEON: Be wary, it is dangerous to fixate on the past too often. Let's see what you've brought us today.

[Orchid used RE:integrate]

PALI: Wha... is... is that a RIFT!?

AEON: We're surprised we haven't already found something like this. Where did you find it?

ORCHID: Some old mew temple. I don't even wanna get into the shitshow that turned out to be.

AEON: We see. Then this should be no issue to collapse.

[AEON used ?????. It was super effective!]

PALI: What the bloody hell? Did Orchid just open and collapse a rift?? Since when could he do that?

AEON: Thank you for bringing this to us, wildcat, but it seems that we both should take our leave. Seems that you're not alone.

[AEON has fled]

ORCHID: SHIT! I've been followed!

[EUROPA used Fling. EUROPA flung her light orb!]

ORCHID: GRAAAAAAAH!!!

[ORCHID is paralyzed! It can't move!]

EUROPA: SEE! I TOLD YOU GUYS!!

PALI: -thinking- Oh no, that voice...

EUROPA: I TOLD U SMTH WAS WEIRD ABT THEM!!

GANYMEDE: Yes yes, you've told us many, many times. Despite how poorly you've described it.

EUROPA: Um, how abt a thank u Eura??? U literally never wouldve found them w/out me??? Theyve been givin suuuper off vibes ever since I saw them! And BAM! They just made a rift!

IO: mmm... but did you like... need to paralyze them...? seems kinda... um... cruel... i guess...?

EUROPA: Wut was I sposed 2 do? They woulda ran if I confronted them!

IO: yeah... i guess youre right. their soul is... like... super janked up and stuff... never seen nothin like it before...

GANYMEDE: I agree. Perhaps it's best if we take it to Mother. She should know how to sort this out.

EUROPA: Fine. But Im takin the credit 4 this 1.

[EUROPA, GANYMEDE, and IO cast a Transplanar Mirror Warp spell. EUROPA, GANYMEDE, and IO have fled]

PALI: Arceus... they're going to take him to mum. -inhale- Nope. Not my problem. He got himself into this mess, he can get himself out.

[smallgraygames]

The Salt Keep

Demo: The Salt Keep

Status: Complete (on sale now on Mac/PC, Android, & iOS)

Genre: Fantasy/horror text adventure (think text-based interactive fiction with CYOA and RPG mechanics)

Set in a high fantasy world with low fantasy stakes, the character-driven story of The Salt Keep follows a struggling merchant named Doyle who stumbles into a life-or-death mystery. During the last legs of a months-long journey as a traveling salesman, Doyle stops in the seemingly deserted village of Cardwyke to meet a friend who has promised to help keep him financially afloat, but what he finds is even more dangerous than the crushing weight of debt.

The world of The Salt Keep should be familiar to any fan of fantasy — it has breastplates, and swords, and other fun stuff like that — but is shaped by the vaguely industrial creep of bastard feudalism. Sprawling merchant conglomerates and faceless business structures pull the levers of power as much as dukes and knights.

The world is meant to be both a reflection of traditional fantasy settings (the England-coded sword and sorcery and D&D-style locations we're used to) and an answer to some of the tropes I find most frustrating about them. It's not a world of prophesied heroes doing Great Man Theory or of grimdark anti-heroes exposing the essential evil of humanity, but of ordinary medieval schlubs trying to survive within alienating and oppressive political systems.

In other words, it's not a world a character like Doyle has any hope or intention of changing; he only means to survive.

The Salt Keep is a text-based game, so the action is described through text and the player navigates and makes choices via button inputs. Through these basic mechanics, you'll be able to:

Guide Doyle through the village and the towering keep that looms above it as he searches for a means of escape.

Collect items and discover their uses.

Equip gear to improve Doyle's ability scores.

Succeed or fail at percentage-based challenges.

Earn experience and level up based on those challenges.

Talk to and work with NPCs to make progress.

Uncover secrets and missable areas.

Risk grievous bodily harm.

Despite the prevalence of choices and risks, there is no chance of death or dead-ends. The story always moves forward. In turn, you'll change the outcome of Doyle's story (as well as those of the NPCs) not just through the things you choose to do, but through the things you fail to do, and the things you choose to ignore.

The demo includes the prologue and first chapter of five total chapters. It should provide around two hours of gameplay, though it'll vary depending what you choose to do and how thorough you are. 

The full game is novel-length — roughly 260k words — and is now available on Mac/PC, Android, & iOS, and the demo should provide a good sense of both gameplay and the direction the rest of the narrative will take.  If you want to help support development or keep track of progress:

Follow here for dev blog updates

Become a patron on Patreon

Follow on Twitter

Please enjoy!

WARNING: The narrative includes all sorts of violence and generally negative emotional states, which can vary based on your individual play-through, so please keep that in mind.

[coldshrugs]

longing's favorite season 🔹 part one

pairing: io laithe / estinien varlineau rating: general word count: 3.8k additional entries: prologue 🔹 part 2 🔹 stable scene 🔹

"Saulette, could I trouble you to draw the curtain?"

Io looks up from her book to the cold, clear ray of midday sun streaming through the glass window and directly onto her left hand. An unwelcome distraction, the way it catches the faceted stone there, sending tiny colorful, refractions across the page. She twists the band until the gem is inside her fist.

She squeezes until the metal begins to dig.

When the girl doesn't answer, she asks again. "Saulette?"

New to the staff at Fortemps Manor, Saulette became Edmont's solution to Io's frequent lack of company: a handmaid and potential friend in one convenient package, of course, but Io is not Emmanellain.

Saulette is nice enough, eager and amiable. As a blessing, she is much less intimidated by Io after her extended residence at the Alicorn. But she's very young and, at times, overly familiar. Io has had to ask her to refrain from hanging over the back of her chair as she reads, or not to cling to her arm during their afternoon walks. Luckily she has learned to knock and wait to be let in, instead of barging. 

Now she is nowhere to be found.

Just as well. All the good reading materials were exhausted three moons ago anyway, so she closes the book with a mind to pillage the kitchens.

The east wing—a relatively small two-story annex comprised of a few private apartments—is empty. Once, it was a refuge for Io and her friends when they needed it most; now, the Lady Greystone de Fortemps quietly wiles away her days here until called upon for a social gathering. The warmth offered by these halls has all but seeped away, like the letters from her former Scion associates, save Y'shtola. Even Haurchefant's flame for her has burned inconsistently since she denounced life as an adventurer, just as Edmont predicted.

Her footfalls echo softly in the carpeted corridor until she reaches the parlor.

Murmurs creep through the door before she can open it, including Saulette's excited trill. Io doesn't bother trying to listen; she suspects they're on about the next high house luncheon or some other event she will be politely forced to endure as an envoy of Lord Edmont's great vision for opening Ishgard's borders. She hadn't planned for her exoticism to be his first import, but it seems her marriage to Haurchefant required it.

The voices hush as she enters, but the staff cannot hide their interest as they huddle around the long wooden credenza by the main hall's entrance. Io blinks curiously as they rustle a missive between them.

"Mistress Io!" Saulette rushes to her side, taking her hand and bowing awkwardly at the same time. "Have you heard the news? Ser Es—forgive me—the Azure Dragoon has returned to Ishgard. Just days ago!"

"Estinien is here?" Io musters her composure. She pulls her hand out of Saulette's and spins the ring once more.

Saulette nods vigorously, beaming at Io while the rest of the staff return to their chatter.

"I have some errands to run in the crozier, and may wander down to Foundation." Io places a hand on Saulette's shoulder when she tries to follow her toward the cloak rack. "I'm fine, really. I expect to be back in a bell or two. Take the afternoon to yourself."

Outside, the air is filled with wispy white flurries floating lazily toward the ground, one of the more pleasant types of snowfall in this place of endless winter. Not even the ever-present chill can temper the excitement flooding Io's chest at the thought of reuniting with someone so dear to her.

The friendship forged during their travels was shaky in the beginning, but she and Estinien grew into the sort of silent understanding she can't recall sharing with another since... maybe since she arrived on this continent. Their pasts, their journeys, and the titles they donned as armor were all congruencies that smoothed the initial frustrations of their forced proximity and made them walk in lockstep. When it was time for him to leave and make his amends, there was nothing painful in the departure—he needed time and space to grieve, and she would want the same for herself—so there could be nothing but happiness in his return.

And Io could use a touch of happiness. No one's been in her corner. Not like she needs.

Aymeric fusses over her wellbeing during this banquet and that gala, or calls on her when he has a moment to spare, but his new responsibilities leave little time for depth to accompany his fondness.

She rounds the corner of the manor to avoid too many eyes, then twists her aether in on itself, small enough to fling toward the pinprick of energy closest to her destination.

In an instant, Saint Valeroyant's Forum takes shape around her. Imposing charcoal stone and metal spires meet the snow-bright sky above, but on the ground, folks pick their way around crumbling rock and rickety boardwalks. Half of Valeroyant still reclines against the edge of the fountain. Io assumes this courtyard was once elegant to behold, but in its current state, she sees only a fitting metaphor in the fallen statue: how much the nation demands of her soldiers, and the kind of rest they might find in their futures.

The air is thicker in Foundation. Smoky, colder, and colored by the scents and sounds of the Forgotten Knight: brewing ale, smoked meats, and rowdy laughter. It is only midday and the tavern is already in full swing. She remembers staying in a dingy Cloud Nine room that was never quiet enough to rest soundly, but Gibrillont made sure she, Tataru, and Alphinaud were warm and fed. That was plenty, after what they'd fled.

Nostalgia's inviting whisper almost pulls Io into the tavern... but a soldier clinks past, reminding her why she's here. She bears straight ahead, into the Congregation of Our Knights Most Heavenly.

"Greetings, Laithe." Firmalbert's eyes crinkle beneath his helm in a smile. He does not correct his address.

She returns his smile and continues inside, where more than a dozen knights pour over various duties. More still wander up and down the stairs, going to the barracks and offices above, or leaving the premises toward their latest assignment. In the center is Ser Handeloup, third in command of the Temple Knights, bent over a table laden with documents, sorted linkpearls, and maps with scattered pins indicating troop positions.

Io's approach does not break his concentration. She waits across from his, her smile stretching with each passing second she goes unnoticed. Aymeric's choice of leadership may as well be his reflection. "Do you ever stop, Handeloup?"

"Io? You're a welcome sight." There is little surprise in his expression, a sign of his constant preparedness. He brightens easily, happy to shed a pressing responsibility or two in exchange for a chance to chat. "Apologies, I haven't had the opportunity to congratulate you personally. I hope you and Lord Haurchefant still bask in wedded bliss." He smiles, pausing graciously to let her answer.

Io's lips curve into the barest smile, but she offers only a nod.

Handeloup clears his throat. "My wife was delighted by the invitation. You see, families as middling as ours rarely have the pleasure of attending such events, and your wedding was an experience neither of us will soon forget. You have my gratitude."

There is a thick, faraway drumbeat in her ears. Her vision shifts focus, clear then blurry, seeing him but not. The false smile sticks in place. She sinks. 

This dread was there in the beginning, but has only grown heavier over the last few months. Handeloup is happy for her. He wishes her well and only means to share in what should be a joyous time. Shouldn't she be happy too?

Why is it so difficult?

It's only half a second before she resurfaces. 

"Careful, or I'll have to see you invited to the next soiree. You think you know exhaustion now..." With luck, she downplays her unease. Handeloup even offers her a polite chuckle. "But I'm afraid I didn't come with an invitation at the ready. The true reason for my visit is rather removed from the joys of high society. I've just heard Estinien has recently returned to the city. Is he here?"

At this, Handeloup's smile falters. His posture straightens. Io readies herself for some grave news of her friend's demise; was his return not a safe one? Or perhaps he's left again and she missed him by days, or merely hours.

"I am sorry, Lady Greystone, but Ser Varlineau is disposed. He and the Lord Commander are in a meeting just now and cannot be interrupted."

'Lady' Greystone, is it? Was she not simply 'Io' a moment ago?

At least her question has a direct answer.

Io straightens her own back, clasps her hands firmly. "Come now, Handeloup, you know the three of us are close friends. I am no stranger to their meetings. I'm sure Aymeric is currently making a generous proposal and Estinien is pretending to shoot it down with an in–"

"I am afraid the Lord Commander has asked for no disturbances." Handeloup looks to the stairs he has seen her climb time and time again to access Aymeric's office. "Glad as I am for the ways Ishgard is changing because of your deeds, there are some things that will ever be the same. As you are now the lady of a High House, I must ask you to stay here, until the Lord Commander has given his approval."

The disappointment is difficult to swallow, but she has already struggled too openly in this conversation. If it is a matter of approval, surely Aymeric will give his. She needs only to play the game as it is laid out before her.

Io inhales, then smiles. "May I leave a message with you?"

"Aye."

He passes her ink, quill, and paper. just She quickly scrawls her note and folds it in half once the ink has dried.

"For Ser Varlineau, with a post-script for the Lord Commander. I will not expect haste, but... it would be most appreciated." She places the scrap of paper into Handeloup's waiting hand.

"I will see it delivered," he says with a formal nod. There is a finality about it.

She could wait. But waiting might be considered an overreach, which could be perilous to the image Edmont has painstakingly crafted. Besides, they could be up there for half the day, and she told Saulette this would be back soon. Easier to leave without a fuss.

Midday gives way to early evening, and with it comes a heavier snowfall. The Jeweled Crozier doesn't flinch.

Ishgard's upper echelons (and those vying to join them) trawl the street in search of their next beloved frock, necklace, or hairpin. Treasures they will count as priceless for a single evening, deemed untouchable the following morning, for who could bear the shame of being seen in the same thing twice?

There is another form of commerce in the market, featuring treasures far more valuable, and intangible, than the goods on display in the shop windows. They are all watching, eager to glimpse who stops to chat with whom, who gets snubbed, which debutante praises the broaches at this artisan stall, what tailor the High House sons swear by this week. They trade stories of betrayal and betrothal, laugh at falls from grace in the same breath they lament the fallen. This is foreplay for them, the first sparkling sip of champagne lingering like lace on their tongues before venturing into heavier spirits, as vital as attendance at any charity gala or dinner party.

Io has no interest in being part of their performance, but her refusal to engage must come with a veneer of politeness. She keeps her smile soft, she keeps her head angled just so, away from the oncoming shoppers as she picks her way through the street. Few in this crowd want to speak to her, the anomaly, anyway—at least not here, where her past cannot be recounted as a series of amusing anecdotes over hors d'oeuvres.

She is only here to purchase an unremarkable trinket, some small proof this outing wasn't in vain before continuing back to Fortemps Manor.

An unpopular stall carrying wooden hairpins is her solution. The fashionable Ishgardian favors polished metal and gleaming jewels, neither of which appear on this display. Each pin is ornately carved and richly lacquered to accent the natural pattern of the wood. Io inspects a long, curved pin in the shape of a feather. The barbs are so delicately ridged... her muscles twitch, remembering days spent fletching arrows until her fingertips grew numb, the feel of smooth ash wood and sinew, cut feathers and twine. The work, its memory, moves under her skin.

"You will do," she says, passing her payment to the vendor.

With her task accomplished, she ascends the stairs that lead to the Pillars' residential areas.

"Warrior of Light," a gruff voice calls from behind.

She freezes, breath catching in her throat.

When was the last time she heard (his voice) that title? In hearing it, part of her feels restored. Hope, or something like it, flowers in the hollow of her chest. The shadows move.

With one hand on the balustrade, Io turns.

Estinien stands at the bottom of the stairs. At a glance, he is as gray and severe as the city that surrounds him, but Io has always considered him out of place here. This is no different. The icy breeze jerks at his untucked cotton shirt and loose silver hair, and he cares not what the onlookers at his back make of his appearance. One boot-clad foot is on the bottom step, the other hangs frozen in the air.

He looks... a bit stricken. Soft... His eyes widen, his mouth is open as his breath mists around him. A kind of surprise she's never seen him wear, as if he expected to find himself face-to-face with someone else entirely—he doesn't seem disappointed that he's found her instead.

His guard returns in the moment it takes him to bound up the steps. "Though I've just heard you've earned yet another title... I endure days of Aymeric's fondness for idle chatter, yet he failed to mention your developments." He looks her over in quick inspection, from head to toe, and shrugs. "Do not expect me to call you 'lady.'"

Io grins at him and nods toward the pillars, beckoning him to join her. In place of the hug she longs to give him, it is the best she can do. With Estinien at her side, the walk goes slower.

"If holding back the eighth calamity hinged on that alone, I believe you might let the world fall to ruin."

"Aye." He does not elaborate. "Should I congratulate you?"

His eyes are sharp and searching, the same shade as the darkening sky above, and they bore into her. She feels a question in them, one he doesn't ask. In truth, he doesn't need to.

It is simply: why?

"Gods, no. In six moons, I have had all the congratulations I can bear. You are too late, I'm afraid." Io clears her throat and steers their conversation toward a more interesting subject. "How were your travels?"

Estinien tears his attention from her face to the mountains that surround them. "Educational, as the last year has been," He pauses. Io waits.

They feel out this familiar rhythm, the rests and surges so common in their conversations. Generous spaces where thoughts collect in their own time, the places where meaning hides, waiting to be found. Always followed by something plain and true. It was the same on the road, once they found common ground enough to talk.

"I am not certain they've concluded, but if Ishgard has need of me, I will avail myself a final time."

"Ishgard?" she asks, ignoring the implication he may leave again. "Or Aymeric?"

He dips his head and smiles, a small thing she knows well by now. For a long time, it was the only part of his expression he would allow her—or anyone—to see. "Funny. I suppose I should try my hand at this 'commanding' business, what with being the Commander of the Knights Dragoon."

"Ah, I see that going smoothly." She does a poor job of hiding her amusement. Snow crunches softly underfoot, each step heavier than the last as the Alicorn's peak comes into view.

Estinien snorts as they enter the Last Vigil, "More smoothly than you as a housewife, surely."

She stops. Her pulse rises to her ears for the second time in so many hours. No. She finds the banister with an uncertain hand, propping her elbows on the snow-covered railing. Stay here, Io wills herself, don't go down there. She pushes back against the deafening rush of blood, slowing her inhales until each cold breath is comfortable. It helps to focus on the distant mountaintops haloed in gold from the setting sun, or the calm and cloudy sky above them, touched by the first traces of night.

Her pulse recedes, leaving the world strangely silent. The street lanterns flicker to life on either side of her. She cannot say how long it took to recover this time.

Long enough to leave her wondering if Estinien has left in the wake of her awkward retreat. If she turns around and finds herself alone–

"Io."

His hand falls on her shoulder, heavy. Steady. The last of the dread falls away.

He pries her away from the stone railing, and the unspoken question from earlier remains. But he smiles again, playfully jostling her shoulder until he coaxes one from her too. Io looks around the square; now that the crowd has thinned, she throws her arms around him and squeezes until he shakes with low, rumbling laughter.

"Oh, shut up." She rests her head on his shoulder, arms held tight around his neck. Warmth bleeds through his cold clothes, and he doesn't sway when she leans against him. His arms wrap around her, obscured by her cloak. He squeezes back.

The world threatens to fall away again. Her head buzzes with a new rush—a pleasant one. Instinctively, Io pulls out of it. She steadies herself with a deep breath and releases him.

Estinien drops his arms. There is a crease between his brows. "All right?"

They walk on. "I'm sorry. If you must know, I am a bit jealous of you. Your continued adventures. I haven't adjusted to standing still."

"Easily remedied, no?" Estinien shrugs casually. "We will make our own adventure. Unless you've been chained at the ankle, what keeps you from going where you please, at least for a day? If you want for decent company, well, I cannot claim decency. But we are friends, are we not?"

"Of course we are." Io bumps her shoulder against his. "Alas, the chain is metaphorical, and therefore heavier than you've imagined, and it has everything to do with the title you'd rather ignore."

He crosses his arms, steps slowing as they near Fortemps Manor. "You don't even mean to try?"

"I did not say that. I only meant–"

"Io, dearest! And is that Ser Estinien?" Haurchefant's high, clear voice cuts through her retort. She did not hear the door open, but she certainly hears it shut as he takes the opportunity to join them. "The steward said you were out on errands, but I never expected you to procure such a treasure as the nation's final Azure Dragoon. How are you, my friend?"

Haurchefant extends his hand to Estinien, who clasps his arm with practiced neutrality. Io doesn't miss the tight line of his lips signaling his annoyance at this interruption. For a blessing, this escapes Haurchefant, but there is comfort in knowing she is not the only one hanging to her charades by a thread.

"Fine," Estinien says. His gaze follows the arm he's just released settling around Io's waist. "And if we must go on about rank, 'Knight Commander' is the less abrasive option."

Haurchefant's expression brightens beyond possibility. "You are returning for good then?" In his excitement, his clutch on Io tightens. She breathes deeply.

It isn't always like this. His touch is one of the easier things to bear.

"For now."

"Then I pray we might catch up, though my post occupies the majority of my time. But Io is in residence, and I daresay the two of you would enjoy revisiting your treacherous expedition, or those most glorious of battles at journey's end. Would that my joining you were a certainty, but you need not delay on my account."

Estinien turns away from them, facing Haillenarte Manor and the path he would use to depart. A shoddy attempt to hide his growing grin. "A shame."

Haurchefant's face whips toward Io, and there is a look in his eyes she hasn't seen in moons: interest. Some reminder of her valorous past washes to shore and he desires her.

"Shall we go inside, my dear? I fear my visit here is not an extended one." He speaks only to Io now, in a voice he has barely lowered. Io has no doubt Estinien overhears. Perhaps the boasting is the point.

"Is it ever?" She swallows her sigh, feeling two things equally: grateful for a night of attention, and already eager for his return to Camp Dragonhead. Before he can answer, she sways out of his grasp and towards the manor door. "Goodnight, Estinien," she calls behind her without looking.

"Goodnight Io. Ser Haurchefant." She catches his reply as Haurchefant follows her inside, just before the door closes.

"Ser Varlineau (as I am expected to address you, apparently), Your arrival comes as the most delightful surprise. I expected you to stay away for far longer. Though you neglected to seek me out, I forgive you. And I think you will enjoy the fact I've made a fool of myself in looking for you. Please do come see me. It's been too long. Your friend, Io P.S. Aymeric, must your knights refuse to let me up the stairs?"

—A note found while cleaning the desk of Lord Commander of the Temple Knights.

"–saw him just days ago, in the Crozier of all places. He still cuts quite a brutish figure, but I make no pardons for saying it is a figure I would not mind viewing more thoroughly. A blessing directly from Halone, Herself... Oh, before I forget, are you planning to attend the Manseauguel affair? I simply cannot decide what to wear—"

—Lady Aileve, overheard at a formal Dzemael luncheon

[ohmygillygoshoppler]

what are.... your headcannons for Epsilon and his people?? Ad Francis too??

oooooh! OOOOOOH! FINALLY!!! MY THEORIES!!! IVE BEEN DYING TO SHARE MY THEORIES!!!

loooooooooong post lmao. Heads up-

Okay okay okay, so I had a few questions about these people when I first started watching the show a gazillion years ago; like how many more of The People are there? How do their numbers work? Are they all clones, or just the Epsilons? How do they do what they do in their universe? Who the fuck do they work for? And why are things the way they are?

I have more questions than answers, but I will say that brainstorming about it has been so much fun~ So lemme just break this down as best as I can-

I personally headcannon that only the Epsilons are cloned from each other, every other agent is someone they either recruited through traditional means, taken from childhood or from birth, or cajoled into service as a form of punishment. We all know how easy it would be to pluck a few promising young birds from some orphanage somewhere; unnoticeable, unwanted, and untraceable to the masses, an organization like The People would jump on the opportunity, I think.

Okay, now for my individual agents, I have only a few things I've actually put to pen about them. Don't you just love having blank slate character to project all of your bullshit onto? I do!

Firstly, I have Irene which i'll be real, she's my fave Green Man to draw. She's.... so pretty... To me....

Her stoicism is linked directly to her environment. When she's on the clock, she one of the most precise, cunning, cutthroat agents around. But the split second she has the okay to relax, she's relaxed.

Her detail is a saboteur, so she is the one disarming traps, disabling security systems and breaking shit up so she and her People can get their jobs done. That being said, she likes to tinker, and can make even the nastiest, most beaten up and abandoned forest can come back to life-

She is insightful, observant and sometimes even playful. She just hides it under a perpetual frown. I was also thinking she would have some affectionate feelings toward Francis, as she's known him all his life , and adored Simone. I imagine Irene and Francis are kind of like siblings with a huge age gap.

Next up, my man Io, a former Hunter who since kicks it with The People after an incident in the 90's. He, along with Epsilon and Simone worked with the Secret Scientists to create a vaccine against lycanthropy. He's been an invaluable asset to The People ever since.

Io has special knowledge on medicine and even alchemy, occasionally making passing remarks about an old colleague that could turn wood chips to gold shavings. He also has a vast knowledge in matters of supernatural sicknesses and possessions. He has a bit of a morbid fascination with it, even going as far as to try and give himself pestilences only for the sake of further research.

I think he'd be pretty neutral about Francis, seeing as how it's not ease accepting some kid to be your new boss. At the same time, he knows where he is, so Io does what he can to keep their relationship strictly professional. However, in light of... recent events, he may be spending more one on one time with his fellow agents; more so than he's used to. We might learn more about him later...

And now WOOOOOOO, GRANDPAAA!!! LETS GOOOOOO!!!!! No, but for real, Agent Rohan is the oldest agent here, pushing 65, and he's still out here taking orders from Epsilon and making moves with The People, all the while fighting vampires, befriending warewolves, tricking the fae and dealing with alien incursions of every sort. He's up there in "Spooky Levels of Competence" with Simone and Grandpa Max, like, this man has seen some shit.

Rohan likes hunting, fishing, shooting, and camping out in the middle or asscrack nowhere. You know, old man stuff. He's the good kind of Boomer, ya know?

And he's still just a chill Old Man who just wants to retire to a secluded cabin in the woods with his Dog (not a dog, not a dog-) and live out his sunset years like a regular American man.

Fuck you, I know Agent Mccabe divorced his ass (they were never married lmao) but sometimes when they're together it feels like nothing's changed. Then they look into each other's eyes and remember how they've hurt each other oh fuck-

Epsilon is an extremely reserved and extremely stifled man, so much so that he stifles everyone around him. He believes that order and routine are the ways to maintain a safe and normal lifestyle, and so many times he is proven right. So much so he allowed himself to be tricked into letting his dearest friend leave for outer space.

He is a, "By any means necessary," type of man to a fault. Ruthless, calculating, and by any sense of the word, the Perfect Agent. Nothing phases him, it seems. However, there is something there, a reason he instills instant obedience and zero hesitation, and I think we can all find that out... together....

Here cooooomes the boyyy~ 💖✨✨ my boy, my baby; Francis.

Hahahaaaa, this one thing soooo highly of himself, hahahahaa~~ Ohhh, thats so cute. I love him for that. I will break him. He will know humility.

You know what happens when someone with no moral compass is thrown into the most fucked up situation? They find that compass, and they fucking use it. The boy must learn, and there wasn't enough time in the show to teach him. Now's my chance-

Speaking of, his Foolhardy Father taught him that thinking for himself was the wrong thing to do, and after Morrigan, he has to start thinking out of the box because there was never a protocol for this...

Also..... I know the fact he's a clone hurts him, like, we saw that shit in The Unblinking Eye, fuckin he hates following Epsilon's orders but what the fuck else is he gonna do? What else is there, this is what he was made for, right? He seems like the perfect guy for a character arc, and it kills me that he didn't get one.

I want him to learn to be his own person. Kinda want em all to figure out what their lives are, since they could all be butchered at any moment and only their killers would mourn them.

Speaking of Killers....

Miss Morrigan Monroe

"Whaaaaat?!?!" I heard you gawking, "Your Evil Bitch™ is with The People?!?! How???" And I'll give you the diss-

next post, this bitch is already so long. But just know, she knew the OG Epsilon and they fucking DO NOT VIBE.

She is hundreds of years old, has profound beef, and the shits on site, so sorry Epsilon. That's what you get for the sins of your father, Get fucked, I guess.

I know she's bad, but she's meant to be vapid, petty, recalcitrant, repugnant and deranged, mean and clever and scary beyond all reason- You know, the perfect woman, lmao. (I dont AT ALL condone the shit shes done or is gonna do but like, its gonna be nasty 😈😈😈😈)

[duckprintspress]

Round Table: What Software Do You Find Helpful for Your Writing Process?

We asked our authors what software helps them write - and got a range of answers! 

Contributors: Adrian Harley, B. T. Fish, D. V. Morse, not-gwaenchanha, theirprofoundbond, Tris Lawrence, unforth

*

Discord 

Tris Lawrence: Lately Discord is becoming critical because that's how I'm making notes for my series bible with a combination of private folders and channels to split out information

(B. T. Fish +1, unforth +1)

Evernote

not-gwaenchanha: I use Evernote for all the ideas, makes them easy to sort. One notebook (or even a notebook stack) per WIP. It lets you interlink notes, use tags to sort stuff. It also has a webclipper browser extension which lets you copy websites or parts of them straight into the notebook which is super helpful for research. Free version can be used on two devices.

Image from the Evernote website...they didn't have anything writing-related, apologies.

Google Suite (G Docs, G Sheets, G Keep)

Hermit: Gdoc for me because my writing tends to happen on my couch/at the coffee shop and thus on my phone a lot (I am totally the person who brings a wireless mechanical keyboard to the coffee shop). I also make use of Google Keep for research notes. And a notebook with some frixion pens.

D. V. Morse: At the moment, I'm tracking things in Google Sheets, which is great (except there's a lot of functionality from Trello that I'm missing).

not-gwaenchanha: I use gDocs to write, mainly because I don't have to worry I'll lose everything if technology decides it hates me, but it also allows me to write from my phone and easily share with my beta. Google keep is where all the "darlings" go when I kill them a.k.a scraps of text that are good but don't fit. It's got a nice integration with google docs, you can send stuff there straight from the doc from the context menu and then move all the scraps into one "scraps" doc 

(unforth +1, theirprofoundbond +1, Adrian Harley +1)

Microsoft Word

Adrian Harley: I have been using the same laptop since 2012, and when the hard drive gave out in 2020, my independent computer repair shop was kind enough to reinstall the 2010 versions of Microsoft Office so I didn't have to pay a subscription for them. It's what I'm used to. The "styles" function lets me find chapters easily, and it's easy for me to leave comments for myself when I see an issue and don't want to resolve it right at that moment. I think the free Microsoft Word, whatever they're calling it, has those basic features too, though I'm not positive.

(unforth +1)

Miro (formerly RealTimeBoard) 

not-gwaenchanha: it’s an endless white board. Great for visual plotting. You can put in sticky notes, tables etc. I also like to upload images to it to make a private moodboard for the story.

Image is from the Miro website.

Notes App (IOS, Android)

Adrian Harley: I prefer to use the Notes app on the go. It's just as easy as Google Drive, it doesn't freak out if I'm not connected to the internet, and I have to copy and paste the text from any portable software to my document record of choice anyway. 

(B. T. Fish +1, unforth +1)

Notion

theirprofoundbond: There is a desktop version and an app, with syncing between both. You can use it for writing but I prefer Google Docs for that. Instead, I've built myself a wiki, basically. My "Writing HQ" contains: current editing projects; word count table to track my daily word counts; gallery of my WIPs, which is pretty and motivating, and each "card" contains metadata and promotional info for each project; calendar for my posting schedule; and a gallery of completed work. Notion is incredibly customizeable with great documentation to help you get your head around all the possibilities. It'd be a great home for a worldbuilding bible, too, I think!

(B. T. Fish +1)

Scrivener

unforth: I use Scrivener for organizing my notes and research, its flashcard system is great for that.

Tris Lawrence: I live and die by a combination of Scrivener and Sprinting. Scrivener was the first piece of software I found that works the way my brain works, from the scrap documents to writing in the margins to index cards, and being able to organize it roughly but have it export pretty when I need it.

D. V. Morse: The main software I use is Scrivener, right up until it's time for critique/beta reading. Then everything goes into GDocs. I've experimented with mind-mapping apps with variable results.

Adrian Harley: Scrivener was incredibly helpful for my novella when I decided to turn it into a novel. It let me keep track of different drafts by chapter, so I could note which versions my writing group had already looked at. It also was easy to add in the "flashback" narrative that I've interspersed throughout the book.

Image from the Scrivener website.

SmartEdit Writer (formerly Atomic Scribbler)

B. T. Fish: It's a free word processor that has all the functions of Scrivener that I need and none of the confusing extras, is default dark mode, tracks my word count by scene and by entire project, and allows me to document and organize my writing projects from one-shots to novel length works. I use Discord for collaboration and have occasionally used Notion to organize writing prompts and story bible information, but most of that I also keep in Smart Edit, so it ends up being a bit redundant.

Image from the SmartEdit Writer website.

Spotify and Pandora:

not-gwaenchanha: because music helps my brain switch into the writing mode

unforth: I definitely use Pandora, music helps a lot

(theirprofoundbond +1)

Sprinto

Tris Lawrence: I cannot survive without a timer somewhere, because that's how I can force myself to focus in 20-30 minute spaces. 

StayFocusd

unforth: it's an extension that shuts off internet access for a specified amount of time, and it helped me not get distracted by All The Social Media. (I don’t use Chrome anymore, but when I did…)

@/porcupine-girl chimed in from the comments to mention that Leechblock is a similar extension for Firefox!

Trello

D. V. Morse: I've always loved Trello for organizing workflow and really need to get on that again. 

Tris Lawrence’s Word Tracking Spreadsheet

Adrian Harley: I have also tried a bunch of different software to track word count, because Number Go Up makes my brain happy. Can I recommend Tris's spreadsheet? That got me through a few months.

Tris Lawrence: I am slightly laughing that I didn't call out my own tracking spreadsheet. Probably because I've been SO focused on notes lately that I haven't gotten new words in uhhhh months. But obviously, yes, when writing I live and die by that as well! I love my charts. I loved the charts on the old NaNo site and wanted them year round. I wanted to be able to set goals and see how I was doing. I wanted to do comparisons. I wanted to see writing across weeks, months, and years, and it helped me learn that zero days and fluctuation were OKAY.

Image from Tris's 2022 spreadsheet blog post

*

What is your favorite software to use to help you write? We'd love to hear from you!

Have a question for us? Drop us an ask anytime!

Love what we do? Consider supporting us on Patreon or ko-fi.

Note that none of these comments should be interpreted as Duck Prints Press endorsing these products.

[whatsthebird]

FAQ

We've compiled a set of common questions that we hope to demystify through this page. If a question you have isn't listed here, shoot us an ask.

Submissions

Can I submit a photo for fun?

If it's your own bird photo, then it can be submitted as either a Bird ID photo or a Quiz Bird. Our General rule of thumb is, if you know what the bird is, then submit it as a bird quiz. If you don't know what bird it is, submit as a bird ID.

Are anonymous quiz submissions ok?

Absolutely! We just ask that you specify that you wish to stay anonymous, so that we don't think it's a Tumblr glitch.

Are submissions limited to America or some sort of specific regions?

Not at all. Submissions are open to anyone who's taken a bird photo.

Where's my submission?

It's possible we just haven't gotten to you yet. Each submission is selected via lottery, and scheduled two weeks out.

Additionally, not every submission will be used. Sometimes the image is lacking key identifiers, or the submission did not follow the guidelines.

Can you tell me if my submission won't make it on the quiz?

WTB will not be proactively reaching out to users. The lack of options to contact the person hinders our ability to do so. Multi person blogs can't direct message, and not every submitter has their ask box open. If you'd like, you can send us an ask about your bird's status that we will gladly answer.

I'm not American, do I still need to follow the ABA guidelines?

The American Birding Association code of birding is a general set of guidelines that can be practiced anywhere in the world. We expect our submitters to practice ethical birding while out photographing birds.

How high quality are the photos required to be?

We value all levels of photography. As long as the key identifying features are present in the photo, the photo can be used.

General

Is it okay to use resources?

Absolutely. This quiz isn't graded. Pull out whatever you want (apps, books, your grandma...) to help. If you're really stumped, throw a lifeline to your fellow players. Some have even been leaving hints in the tags.

How do I play?

Pick the correct answer choice. How you get to the correct answer is up to you. Play this game in a way that would be the most fun to you.

Why have a "None of the Above" answer, choice?

We wanted to a way to promote further discussion between players.

Blog

Are you accepting mods?

At the blog's current state, we have a proportionate amount of mods to work ratio. As the blog expands, we will reevaluate the needs and go from there.

I can't click any of the links, what's happening?

iOS users have been experiencing a bug where the hyperlinks to the submission button are unavailable. To accommodate, we have now allowed media asks.

[sephdb]

Glitch deep-dive: Hotel boss gate skip

On Jan 15th 2023 a new user, thezorazora, joined the Analgesic Productions discord and shared a very intriguing twitch clip of them playing Anodyne(2013)'s iOS version and clipping past the gates blocking access to the boss.

Normally to get to the boss of this dungeon, you'd have to explore across all four floors to get to both sides of the lower floor and disable the two sets of gates in that room.

All you need to trigger this glitch is to take the elevator from floor 3 to floor 1 when both sets of gates are still up, and a bit of luck(as I'll explain later in this post). If it fails, just take the elevator back up to floor 3 and try again. Success rate is about 50%, even with frame-precise inputs.

Deep dive on how exactly it works under the cut!

So, what's actually happening here, and why does it only happen 50% of the time?

The short answer to what's happening is that Young is colliding with the gates in front of the boss room and they push Young out of their hitbox.

But this is supposed to be where the player gets teleported to, so how is that in any way colliding with the gates?

The answer lies in exactly how collision gets calculated in Anodyne's engine, Flixel.

All entities not only keep their position, but also their last position. This allows for Flixel to do collision resolution on fast-moving objects, with their effective hitbox being the whole rectangle spanning both positions. The last position gets set to the current position at the start of each entity's update call, and movement is done at the end of that. In-between, entities set their velocity and other physics variables, and that way every frame, the last and current position are correct.

When the player gets warped across the map, however, a few things happen:

Entities on the current screen get unloaded

Player position(but not last position) get set to the warp point

Entities on the new screen get loaded

Game update stops without running an update call on all entities

An interesting thing happens when you warp from floor 3 to floor 1: the apparent hitbox of the player gets incredibly large, and, more importantly, intersects with the gates on the new screen:

The very next frame, if the gates' updates run first(before the player's update, which would correct this hitbox by setting the last position), they check collision with the player and this absolute unit of a hitbox is what they see. This then triggers the glitch.

Note the "if the gates' updates run first", because that shouldn't happen according to the explanation thus far. In step 3 above, the gates get added to the list of entities, which at that point only has the player in it. That means they go after the player in the update order.

Fortunately(for us, not the game), there is another part of the game that messes with the order of entities: the draw function. When a draw call happens, the entities get sorted by their "lower y" position(ie: the position at the bottom of their hitbox), top to bottom, to get the layering right when entities visually overlap. For some more reasons, this value doesn't get updated for the player until its update runs.

As the player's y bottom value is still that of before the warp, they are way below the gates, so they get put after the gates in the draw(and update) order.

Then the next update call happens, the gates update first, and see the enormous hitbox, etc etc.

So if it's this simple to trigger, why is it so inconsistent?

That's because while Flash can only draw at 30 frames per second, Anodyne's updates try to run at 60. So for every draw call, there is about 2 update calls(there is some random jitter bc of performance varying across frames, sometimes there's 3 update calls).

This makes it essentially random whether there will be a draw call in-between the update call that performs the warp and the next. With no way to make sure the update and draw calls line up perfectly at that moment, it's going to stay about a 50/50 shot at landing the glitch. Luckily it's only a few seconds to retry, with a large amount of time skipped not doing the rest of the dungeon.

[flownintothesun]

            ⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── a closed starter for @clemencetaught .

       𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐃𝐃𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐄'𝐒 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑, 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐃 — Francis knows that. He’s always known that. Only a great fool would think that a tribute could enter the arena and come out unscathed. One way or another, they all get claimed in the end. It’s why he tries to avoid the whole of it. What’s the point in getting attached to someone just to watch them die? He’s always known that behind the pageantry — the tributes are people. When he’d been five years old, he’d declared to his mother that he didn’t want to eat meat anymore. His father had told him he’d grow out of it. He hasn’t. Living things deserve the right to live. Who are they, in the end — to condemn death? To give themselves the role of ‘higher power’ in the absence of religion? Things can change in an instant. By the circumstances of birth, the citizens of the Capitol have been told that they are better. But it’s just luck of the odds — just like the slips of paper bearing the names of children.

      He parts through the crowd with their fizzy drinks and champagne like one might endeavor to part the sea itself. They don’t fear him yet — his grandfather’s era has not yet passed. They try to stop him, to make small talk and pleasantries, but all Francis can see is the plethora of giant screens flashing a recap of the death of a tribute. This one’s name had been Io. They had been from District Three, and Francis had bumped into them quite on accident — which isn’t a thing that’s supposed to happen. Io had been smart as hell and there had been one too many glasses of champagne and they had told him that they didn’t feel they belonged in this world, and Francis had felt that with such a deep, aching yearning that he’d allowed himself to slip away into the comfort of the moment. Too far down the rabbit hole. And two days later, they’d been sentenced to die. And now he’s searching for — he doesn’t know what. Answers? To the madness? Answers that don’t exist. Madness is madness. It is without reason and logic.

     Nevertheless, he finds himself situated in front of one of the District Three mentors — Patrick Grace. It’s a precarious position to be in. He can’t afford to show any sort of emotion. Not with everything resting atop his shoulders. And still, his eyes are glassy and he’s swaying a little bit as he searches the victor’s face — as though he can provide answers. As if he had anything to do with it. He has a million things on his mind, and he can’t bring himself to say anything. People are staring, and Francis has a reputation and — “Better luck next time,” he forces the words out as the cameras zoom in on falling white rose petals over Io's body — a gift from his grandfather. A punishment, and a statement — this blood is on Francis’s hands.

[yaminerua]

Rimmer deciding he’ll try to keep going with therapy sessions with Snacky the dispenser because even though he had only mistaken Snacky as Asclepius and all the help he thought he got from that session was all in his head he DID feel better after getting it out of his system and sometimes Snacky does have insight into some of the things he struggles with so why not keep it up? Snacky may not be qualified in that area but he has picked up a lot of potentially useful information just by being in the vicinity of intelligent people from various different fields. He was after all able to configure the stasis booths successfully. And besides, for Rimmer, getting things off his chest to someone who won’t be likely to use what they learn about him against him is better than the alternative of just sitting with it forever and never making progress.

Snacky will usually just let him vent, only offering advice if it seems fitting but otherwise most of the time Rimmer will talk himself round into some sort of realisation or solution on his own so there’s very little he needs to do other than be a listening ear.

But maybe one day Rimmer finally dares to bring up his insecurity around his sexuality and how he always tries to behave as expected, as he was raised to think and behave, but that it doesn’t come naturally to him and the whole thing always feels like he’s walking into an exam for a subject he’s never even taken. How he’ll pursue women and act the way he does but that it feels so much like an ill-fitting glove, a role he’s putting on and has been for years but he’s been too terrified to examine what that means because the alternative is something which was unspeakable of back on Io with all its uptight conservative traditionalist rigidity. So he just never dared think about it. Just pressed on as he always had been, trying to fit a mould he’s increasingly becoming worried he wasn’t made for.

Snacky tries gently to start suggesting some possible answers to all this but Rimmer is too flighty and immediately attempts to shut the conversation down, chickening out of hearing whatever Snacky has to say at the last second. He doesn’t want to know. He’ll just keep doing what he’s doing. What does it matter 3 million years in deep space anyway? He just wanted to get it off his chest, no advice needed, thank you Snacky, goodbye!!!!!

Snacky wouldn’t bother following it up at all if it didn’t continue to keep cropping up from time to time, the issue still evidently floating around unresolved amongst Rimmer’s many other anxieties regardless of how much he later insists he doesn’t actually want answers.

So instead of pushing the matter directly maybe Snacky decides to put the responsibility of learning about himself into Rimmer’s own hands and simply discretely delivers some informative pamphlets from the medical bay, info sheets on Asexuality for him to read at his own discretion to digest the information held within at his own pace.

When he finally does sit down and read them, after much procrastination and several attempts at throwing away the pamphlets before someone like Lister can see them, at first he feels kind of hollow, because he has to accept and face the reality that there really had been something missing there the whole time, something different that he had been overcompensating for. But after a long while of just sitting with the information he eventually accepts it reluctantly and is in a way somewhat relieved to have a reason to drop the performative act without it meaning or implying that he’s gay or anything instead…

well.

Snacky has thoughts on that too, of course, and has a selection of appropriate pamphlets set aside for future use when the time is right. Because it will crop up eventually. But for now it’s best to take this one step at a time. Rimmer needs time to fully process this first big revelation and discovery about himself. He needs to work through how he feels about it, how he feels his family might have felt about it, and whether he ought to even give a smeg about what any of them would have thought about it!

Unpacking the rest of himself will have to wait. And Snacky has a sneaking suspicion that once that particular process begins he’s going to have quite a lot more therapy sessions on his plate.

[eric-the-bmo]

1, 15, 22, 34, 41

1. which ocs are the most touch-starved? Oh my god APOLLO. This man hasn't been touched by another being for as long as he's been in the City, and even then he's not sure how long he's been down there. Literally the best thing he can do to simulate contact is just,,, holding his own hands. This man is gonna Freak Out when he goes up to the Surface and someone shakes his hand. I'd also like to say Rhidian as well. He's been stuck in a library with only a ghost in a book as his only companion for quite a few years now, and the people who found their way into the library never really wanted to get near him.

15. which ocs are too self-sacrificial? I want to say Ophelia. She's dedicated her entire life to serving and protecting the town she grew up in, as well as the added tasks of making sure her wife is doing alright. She's always wanted to go to the ocean, but feels bound by her duties to stay home. However, the more I think about it, Apollo is also a great answer and might be a better answer. Due to his, uh, current worldview, he will in fact do anything Silvidahl tells him to, even if it's self-detrimental. The more I think about this, the more I realize I've got more self-sacrificial OCs than I've realized. Those are the top two, however. Ios comes in right afterwards, being the Chosen One for a sun cult and all.

22. which ocs are most flexible? which ocs are least? Amazing question. Gel and Memorja are very close ties for being the most flexible, but that's only because they're both made of slime. The non-slime answer would be Gemma :-) She was a contortionist at a circus! As for least-flexible, I want to say Zachariah Cain. He is a walking corpse, after all.

34. which ocs are clumsiest? which ocs are graceful? Hm, I've never given this much thought before. But Monarch is the most clumsiest overlord you will ever meet, there's a reason he's died so many times (besides from eldritch horrors and The Bit). John and Sildar might be close contenders- John walks as if he's new to being in a human body (he is), and Sildar is just very clumsy when he gets nervous- and that happens a lot, since he's not the most charismatic man. He's also like 7 feet tall so yknow. I think as an Archfey, Reese was incredibly graceful, being a powerful spirit and all that, and I think she'd still try and attempt to mimic that. I feel as if Ceremorph would be graceful as well, being a charismatic cult leader, but for the first few times it took over Ven, it would definitely be in the Most Clumsiest category.

41. which ocs enjoy gazing at the sky? APOLLO APOLLO APOLLO, Listen!!!! He hasn't seen the sky for fucking ages!!! He canonically enjoys watching the sunrise and he's been underground for so long and aauuuggggh, I feel like he'd just really enjoy seeing it all again but not really realize it, I have many emotions about this man And while Michael doesn't really enjoy it anymore, he used to do it a lot! With the place he lives in, the sky can be all sorts of colors. Sky-watching's taken a bit of a turn for him, though, ever since he realized it should be blue instead of whatever apocalyptic color the sky decides it should be for the day.

This has been fun, thank you! I've got two more of these in my ask box, I will answer them later :-)