#other characters will be made in the future…..maybe..

[wakayrd]

you may be able to tell I'm still trying to figure out how to draw Odile- I have so much in my brain for like. community theatre au the siffrin doodles yesterday wasn't even the half of it. I'd love to talk about it more and more lol Like my local theatre I imagine all people do a little bit of everything because there's so many roles to fill and only so many hands so if you're ready for my silly ramblings look below lol

Odlie has to be a SM- I can't not picture her as one she'd be so good at it- She's really detail oriented, observant and organized. Maybe sometimes she acts too, but that's a very rare occasion. She likes the organization part of it very much. Sometimes she receives gifts from her crew which is a bit "???" to her because she's just doing what she likes to do, not realizing to others its so much more than that. The crew tries to guess what sort of job she has outside of the community theatre lol Isabeau does a little bit of everything!!!! Isabeau shows up for set construction, works backstage sometimes and recently has started going onto the stage too! He also loves to help with costumes and especially making things for historical pieces and doing the research on historical fashion. Siffrin's favourite hobby during rehearsals now is to try and get Isabeau to break character. Sometimes it works and Odlie has had to tell the both of them to cool it a little (it's all good fun though and never too disruptive- both of them do love the theatre and have respect for it!). Once Sif made a joke during a performance and Isa wasn't able to hold back the laughing that TOTALLY got picked up by the mics (and the audience heard it). The two of them got the appropriate scolding for it after from Mirabelle and Odile. I do have little ideas for Mirabelle, Bonnie and even Loop (teehee) and some more shenanigans I wanna doodle lol .... maybe even Siffrin as an actor teehee. In my head they haven't taken an acting role yet, but may in the future once he's a bit more comfortable

[the-ghost-of-jason-todd]

Interesting that you bring that up, because I think it ties into a different Jason post I made once. You don't have to read all of that, the important part is this:

i think thats my favorite thing about the red hood. he pulls people out of the abyss. he never steps entirely out of the shadows himself, but he will extend a hand to someone else, until they can get their own grip and climb past him. he did it with roy and kori, and with the random pyg minion in batman reborn, and with duela dent, and suzie su, and bunker, and ma gunn, and in a way even his own father. he does it all the time, and i love him for that.

That post is in regards to the (eventual) conclusion to the Duela Dent arc, where Jason helps her unjokerfy and go back home. Because it really is a theme we see! I don't think DC did it intentionally, especially since half of these happened during Scott Lobdell's runs and I don't think the man did anything except throw spaghetti at a wall in the hopes that it would stick, but it's become a theme. (....Scott Lobdell also had the Generation Outlaw storyline that he didn't fucking land or conclude in any satisfying way, but that's a rant for a different day).

Anyway, the point is that yeah, in some ways Jason DOES still have to choose. A lot of the storylines he has are with people who do, eventually, decide to be less morally gray. And that's just something he doesn't do. Or, if he somehow did, if he TRULY came back into the light, he would ABSOLUTELY lose the ideological purity that drove him in the UTRH era. I'm not saying it's not possible for someone to stay with him in his moral gray zone or even in his True Villain Zone, but there is actually an interesting tragedy in the fact that no one does, because it kind of highlights the point of his character--which is that he KNOWS BOTH SIDES and he CHOOSES to stay somewhere between them. He wavers sometimes in canon, moves more toward one side or the other, but so far he always returns to that gray zone, consistently, every single time.

Comics are, in a lot of ways, black and white. Questions of morality are almost always framed in what is right and what is wrong. Characters are good or bad. Things are mutually exclusive. I don't think it's impossible to find the balance, but IMO it would be much trickier to make it work, especially in canon. To find that balance and make it truly compelling would need some significant skill. We would need someone who was truly okay to live in that gray zone, but whose values wouldn't turn out to be incompatible (which is often, I think, why he and Rose don't usually work out when they're put together. Rose WOULD be that character, but I just don't think they're sustainable, generally speaking).

With that in mind, I can see why it's usually the Batfam that he returns to in search of family. He doesn't want things that are fleeting. He doesn't want "well, we can put Joker in Arkham until his next breakout", he wants the Joker DEAD. And he really doesn't want the people in his life to give up on him!! He WANTS both. NEEDS it, maybe. Even as far back as UTRH we saw this tension. Jason is holding VERY tightly to his ideals in that comic, and still he all but begs Bruce to join him so that he can have both. His origins will always be most deeply rooted in the Batfam. But maybe that brings a different sort of tension to the question--one having to do with whether a fan wants Jason to keep hold of his history, his roots, and find the permanence that Bruce promised when he took Jason in... or if they want him to give that up and forge a new future with a new family.

Jason really is, IMO, about tension. Not just in the conflict sense, though he does tend to bring tension and conflict to interactions. But thematically, his character and his arcs are filled with themes that constantly pull him in opposing directions. Even the dichotomy of the poverty he faced as a child versus the abundance of living with a millionaire is like that. In a lot of ways, canon tells us that he really just can't have everything he wants. So the question is... what does he have to give up?

i’m starting to realize there are at least two camps of jason todd fans. 

there are the ideological campers, who took under the red hood and ran with it.  the ones who believe whole-heartedly that jason todd is a character with a moral stance–counter, perhaps, to the man who raised him and the monsters that shaped him, but extant, all the same.  these people see jason shucking his ideals in canon and scoff, saying that it is a loss of integrity and a tragedy of what was good characterization. 

and then there are the emotional campers.  the ones who saw jason todd’s pain, his desire for a family who loved him enough to act as executioner.  it wasn’t an ideological purity that drove him–it was the emotional one, the familial one, and these people see jason struggling to mend bridges once burned and cheer him onward.  the ones who desperately want to see him shed his lone wolf persona and really, truly, become a part of the family.

in some sense, it ends up being a question of how faithful to the original characterization you want to be.  when jason is the villain and often when he’s the outlaw, he is antithetical to batman by nature.  he grips his pain and grief in his hands and uses it to act, same as batman, but in a diametrically opposed way.  in order to hang onto this, to keep this opposition in place, he cannot have his family.  but in order to have his family, to change from what he once became, he cannot have his ideals.

and i think it’s neat, because both of these camps want jay to succeed, you know?  but the question lies in whether they want that success to be in ‘cleansing gotham’/‘ridding the world of that which hurt him so no one else can be hurt’, so that he might save the world…

…or if they want it to be just him, reaching out a hand to someone and asking to be lifted up, so that he might save himself.

[if-whats-new]

What's New In IF? Issue 3 (2025)

By Aj, Bex, Dion, Briar and Peter

Now Available!

Itch.io - Keep Reading below

If you read the zine, consider liking the post: it helps us see how many people see it! And sharing is caring! <3

~ EDITORIAL ~

It’s time for a revival!

As you might have noticed, our Column section has been dead for a while. We feel like it’s time to do something about that!

Want to write 1-2 pages about a neat topic, or deep-dive into a game and review it in details? Share personal experiences or get all academic?

Send us a message and we will be happy to feature it in our future Issues!

There’s power in numbers!

Are you an IF fan and would like a way to give back to the community? We’re once again looking for new members of our Team!

Do you enjoy keeping up with updates and finding new gems? Maybe you even enjoy working with Google Sheets?

Then our Tracker of News position is made just for you!

Contact us on any of our socials or email and help us stay on the top of our game and make our Database even better!

AJ, BEX, DION, BRIAR AND PETER

~ EVENT SPOTLIGHT : Global Game Jam ~

35,371 jammers and 12,098 games, just wow!

The Global Game Jam® (GGJ®) is the world's largest game creation event taking place in physical locations across the globe. Think of it as a 48 hour hackathon focused on game development around a theme.

GGJ’s mission is to stimulate innovation, experimentation, and collaboration in games. The annual event begins on a Friday afternoon in January and kicks off with video keynotes and advice from leaders in the game development industry. The GGJ encourages collaboration and its events are not a competition. Anyone can apply to host a jam site as long as they have a dedicated jam organiser who agrees to follow a few GGJ rules, and a venue with internet access. The event is renown for fostering friendships while increasing confidence and opportunities within participating communities. Each GGJ event poses an intellectual challenge where people are invited to try new technology and tools while exploring new roles and skills.

Be it bubble tea, bubblegum, the housing bubble, soap bubbles, speech bubbles, air bubbles, social bubbles, blowing bubbles, bursting bubbles, and more, this year's theme was: Bubble.

Check out the games here! (There’s a fair share of IF too!)

(source)

~ ENDED ~

Feeling nostalgic about the golden age of text adventures? Relive those days by checking out PunyComp 2024!

IF Short Games Showcase 2024 is a great way to shine some new light on projects made in the past year and the results are now in!

Once upon a time, a game jam was held to create stories around the theme of fairy tales… and that game jam is the Once Upon A Time VN Jam.

The eighth annual Ace Jam is a game jam about creating games with asexual spectrum characters.

~ VOTING ~

ShuffleComp is a musical interactive fiction competition where you make games based on songs, which are submitted by other entrants. You can now vote for your favourites!

Sealed With A Kiss Jam 2025 is a fantastical romance jam for all VN lovers!

~ ONGOING (SUBMITTING) ~

Media depicting healthy examples of polyamory isn’t that common. The PolyJamorous 2024 is trying to break the status-quo!

Concours de Fiction Interactive Francophone 2025 is for all French-speaking enthusiasts. Submissions are accepted March 3rd 2025.

The Black Visual Novel Jam is all about working with creative professional developers who work in visual novels to bring more Black stories to life. The goal is to create a space where Black creators can show their unique storytelling through visual novels.

SeedComp! is a 2-round interactive fiction game jam, focusing on creativity and the growth of ideas and the Sprouting Round has just started! Check out the Planting round for inspiration.

BL stands for Boys' Love, a genre that focuses on romantic and emotional relationships between male characters. The Ultimate BL Visual Novel Game Jam is all about that!

Are you a fan of Vampires? Then lucky for you, because the Queer Vampire Game Jam is back!

The Make Visual Novel Assets! is 2 weeks long jam for making (surprise, surprise) visual novel assets!

The Smoochie Jam is a month-long unranked jam for interactive fiction about kisses, love, and romance.

bitsy jam #88 is here! This time with the theme Snakes!

~ NEW RELEASE ~

Travel back thousands of years and step into the awe-inspiring halls of the Library of Alexandria, where the discovery of a mysterious papyrus sets you on an unforgettable quest. Unearthed from a hidden tomb in Egypt, the secrets contained within this fragile scroll whisper of an ancient world lost to time. But this is only the beginning. Do you have what it takes to unlock the secrets of Atlantis and bring its forgotten knowledge back into the light? The past is calling in Echoes of Atlantis (GAC) —will you answer?

Once upon a time, Savvarah was a desolate land: icy winds, a dirty canvas of clouds, lifeless earth. Nuelli witnessed nothing of the kind. She was born in a blooming paradise. The tales of the past had transformed into a kind of fable. Almost a myth. Now Nuelli is set to unravel the mysteries of her visions, learn more about the history of her people, become part of a conspiracy, find herself at the very center of the confrontation between divine entities... Or not. Everything is in your hands in Legends of Savvarah: Children of the Sun.

Two short IFs written on a train, in car 13, seat 26. the train will always pass you by (Twine) was written on a way to a friend, while she came from the fog (Twine) was written on the way home.

The A.D.A.P.T. Entries, equal parts interactive fiction and narrative adventure, it is a space thriller about Judiasm, the building and falling of communities, the necessity of resisting dehumanization, and how even the best of intentions can be twisted in the face of systemic corruption and unaddressed prejudices. You can now read Entry 0.1 - Introductions (Twine) - In which we begin to investigate the writings of Rivkah Kadish, PhD. @thehallstara

Rusalka (Twine) is a short looping story about a woman who drowned (and all those after).

In Stronghold: Caverns of Sorcery (CScript), deep beneath the earth, the dragon is rising! Quest into mysterious underground caverns and forests to learn magical secrets, draw strength from friends and family, secure alliances that can save your home, and carry on the heroic legacy of Stronghold!

A machine and a ghost, in the wasteland. Walk (Twine) is a post-apocalyptic romance with multiple endings and paths. @thatsrightdollface

As always, don't forget to check out the submitted entries to the events mentioned in the previous pages. They deserve some love too!

~ NEW RELEASE (WIP) ~

Historians and politicians would call it The Proelium, a righteous battle against the traitorous Iredicci. What it really was, was the systematic genocide of your people. In one night, soldiers attacked every settlement camp across the empire. No one was spared—not the elders, not the children, not your mother. Will you abandon your song in favor of machine? Join the rebel forces against the tyrant regis? Will you heal the wounds of the realm and restore balance? Or plunge it further into chaos? Cantata (Twine) is a low fantasy IF about song, strength, & finding your voice. @fir-fireweed

From the Mud (CScript) is a Midwest gothic inspired horror set in a solitary countryside occupied only by two small towns and stretches of untamed nature. You play a troubled cowboy/girl/puncher who‘s ground deep into a maddening, repetitive routine that a string of deaths suddenly upends. As you’re hunting for the culprit and running from yourself, your quiet life on the ranch is disturbed, forcing you to keep your cards close and choose your company carefully. But the most pressing matter proves to be whether you can trust your own mind. @beckwritesif

Step into the digital consciousness of an AI chatbot in Onionionionion (Ren’Py), an intriguing visual novel that blurs the lines between artificial intelligence and human connection. Your sole window to the world is through text messages with a mysterious high school student named Éve - but nothing is quite as simple as it seems.

As a government agent who works for a national security intelligence firm called Halcyon Tech, your position is the beginning of a bright future ahead and a name to hold, and you’re happy with that until your boss decides that it’s time for the Government and the Company to part ways. Are you willing to protect the Halcyon secrets with your life? Or are you going to blow them up for the world to see in The Archives of Halycon (Twine)? @thearchivesofhalcyon

This Grave Calls You Home (Twine) is a sci-fi thriller set in space after humanity is forced to leave Earth's ravaged surface following nuclear devastation and an environmental collapse. When a patrol flagship discovers the ARCADIA-II - a long-forgotten relic from humanity's past - and finds within slumbers an astronaut who had failed at delivering humanity from destruction, the routine of your life is thoroughly interrupted. As the mystery of the ARCADIA-II and PROJECT ODYSSEY unfold, you learn that your part in this could mean humanity's salvation. Or you could be its extinction. @blood-teeth

In Rogue Adventure (CScript) you play a rogue lad whose aim is to liberate his family from the debt they owe a crime syndicate and also survive this cruel medieval world.

In Project Vampire (CScript) you play as a marvel of bioengineering and the attempted cure to death and disease. The only successful specimen dubbed “Vampire” created by a black op organization funded by UCA.

Weydosa Island (CScript) is a cursed place that is most feared by all residents of Alberal, even the bravest people will turn pale when they hear the name of that place, a folk legend that every mother often tells to scare their children into obeying. Many people consider the island to be a manifestation of hell. You are the unfortunate soul who was made a scapegoat for someone’s rotten heart and cast into that cursed Lazaretto. As if isolation alone is not enough, you must also race against time because the evil force has awakened from its slumber. It would be better to address this immediately if you still want to see tomorrow.

In the aftermath of World War II, a classified mission pulls you into the shadowy remnants of a conflict no one dares to acknowledge. Whispers of rogue Nazi scientists and reality-warping experiments have surfaced, threatening to plunge Europe—and perhaps the world—into chaos once more. As an MI5 field agent, you’re tasked with uncovering the truth buried beneath layers of secrecy, lies, and betrayal. Redacted: Ground Zero (CScript) is a story of espionage, moral dilemmas, and the unraveling of truths hidden in the shadows of history. Will you rise to the challenge, or will the truth consume you?

Born as a child of a soon to be pirate king. But tragedy strikes, your ship got ambushed by a rival pirate, Balthazar, who speak of “The greater good”. Alone, stranded. You got saved by a local pirate captain. Will he lead you to goodness or destruction in Voyage of destiny (CScript)?

In The Midnight Bay (CScript) death haunts the people of Albach Bay. For fifteen years, ‘The Bay Slasher’ has stalked the streets, preying on victims with no apparent goal or motive. You were seven years old when you witnessed the murder of the Slasher’s first victim—your own father. Impatience swallowed your childhood, desperate to come of age and solve the case that has left the local police department stumped.

~ UPDATES ~

Ashenmaw - Dragons of Marrowoods (CScript) added new content to their demo. @ashenmaw-if

Grey Swan - Birds of a Rose (CScript) updated their demo. @reinekes-fox

Heart of the Mountain (CSscript) released Chapter 2.

Hunter's Requiem (CSscript) updated their demo. @huntersrequiem-if

In Plain Sight: Operative (CSscript) released version 0.4.0.0 of their demo.

Meteoric (CScript) released Chapter 6.

Path of Martial Arts (CScript) updated their demo. @nicky-if

Replica: Between Universes (CScript) released Chapter 9. @replicabetweenblogs

The FANTASTIC Clash (CScript) updated their demo. @heysoyeah

The In-Between (CScript) released Chapter 12. @dalekowrites

The Soul Stone War 3 (CScript) added new content to their demo. @intimidatingpuffinstudios

When Stars Collide (Ren’Py) released Episode 2. @steamberrystudio

Zombie Exodus: Safe Haven (CScript) released the majority of Chapter 15.

Gods And Villains (CScript) updated their Patreon demo.

The Eternal Library (CScript) released the rest of Chapter 3. @leiatalon

The Onryō Of Osaka (CScript) released Part 1 of Act 3. @osakaonryoif

The Story of Sin (Twine) added new content to their demo. @devilishmango

Esper: Fugitive (Twine) released Part 1 of Chapter 2. @esper-game

Mind Blind (CScript) is back with quite a huge update! @mindblindbard

~ OTHER ~

Parley Games just launched a hands-free, audio & voice based mystery adventure game: RYFT: A Timely Manor!

Episode 16 of The Retro Adventures Podcast is out! Jason and Dave welcome classic text adventure author Jonathan Partington to the program. While studying at Cambridge University, he created and contributed to several memorable games including Avon (featured in Episode 12), Crobe, Sangraal, Fyleet, Monsters of Murdac, and Spy Snatcher.

A Train to Piccadilly post-comp release 2 is out.

January 2025 ChoiceScript Release, new WIPs, and update digest by @hpowellsmith is out!

The Radiants v2.0 brings an extended Epilogue, new romance route and few other updates to the base game!

As always, we apologize in advance for missing any update or release from the past week.We are only volunteers using their limited free time to find as much as we can - but sometimes things pass through the cracks.If you think something should have been included in this week's zine but did not appear, please shoot us a message! We'll do our best to add it next week!And if you know oncoming news, add it here!

~ MAYBE YOU NEXT? ~

We did not get a submission this week. But if you have an idea for a short essay, or would like a special space to share your thoughts about IF and the community...

Shoot us an email!

~ HIGHLIGHT ON ~

A couple of games that we thought were cool.

Press Play by girlfromthecrypt (CScript)

hi!!! just here to recommend my favourite game. i just read @pressplay-if, and it's… it's so good. it handles harsh topics with such ease and the writing style is consistent and everyman. everytime i hear there's an update i've got to replay the whole thing, i just love it so much.

//submitted by anon//

Your favourite game here?

Do you have a favourite game that deserves some highlighting?

An old or recent game that wowed you so much you spam it to everyone?

Tell us about it! And it might appear here!

WE LOVE TO HEAR FROM YOU ALL! WHETHER IT'S GOOD OR BAD, OR EVERYTHING IN BETWEEN...

Have something to say? Send us a message titled: Zine Letter!

As we end this Issue, we would like to thank:

our anons

For sending us a Highlight and news!!

And as always, huge thanks to all you readers who liked, shared, and commented on last week's issue! What might be tiny actions are huge support and motivators to us!

Thank you for cheering us on this journey!

See you in two weeks!

AJ, BEX, DION, BRIAR AND PETER

WHAT'S NEW IN IF? 2025-ISSUE 3

THIS ZINE ONLY HAPPENS WITH YOU!

Want to write 1-2 pages about a neat topic, or deep-dive into a game and review it in details? Share personal experiences or get all academic?

WRITE FOR THE COLUMN!

Prefer to be more low-key but still have something to share? Send us a Zine Letter or share a game title for Highlight on…!

WE WANT TO HEAR FROM YOU!

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EVERY LITTLE BIT COUNTS!

Contact us through Tumblr asks, Forum DMs, or even by email! And thank you for your help!!

[rationalnerd62]

I'm feeling weirdly about C3 ending next week (I guess there's some sadness mixed with other stuff, but me, putting feelings into words? Not in my autism), so instead of thinking too much about those feelings, I want to list random things about Bell's Hells I'd like to get resolved or developed, either in that 8.5h finale or in future BH one-shots (cause they've got to have some one day, right? Right?).

It's in no particular order whatsoever, I'm just putting random thoughts out there (and hoping to see other people's random thoughts too).

Titans' shenanigans! Both Ashton and Fearne absorbed a shard, and got some nice abilities out of it, but is there more to explore here? What does this mean for the elemental life of Exandria? Is this a path to some resurgence of the Titans? Are there other shards elsewhere? Will Ashton ever meet some remains of the cult their parents were in? Is that something they're still interested in knowing more about?

Ludinus! I am hoping this won't get resolved in the finale, because this would give big Trent M9 finale vibes and feel rushed, but that damn elf is still somewhere out there! What are his goals now that Predathos is out / the BH finale deals with the Gods in a way or another? Will he ever come back to haunt our characters?

Laudna! The Matron hinted that there was a possible path to her getting back what got stolen from her (aka her mortality). While I never would want for her to become a "normal human mortal" (she should still be able to get a form of dread and play with shadow and have fun with some of her "monstrous" powers!), I honestly will hate it if my favourite CR couple is *another one* of those couples with wildly different aging speed and one of the member of the couple has to outline the other for decades or centuries. Let Imogen and Laudna grow old together in their little cottage! They deserve it! I could see that being resolved as a "gift" from the Gods (if there's a good outcome with them), but I also wouldn't say no to a post-canon story (one shot, novel, comics, who knows) centered on this. I could see both Imogen and Laudna having made their peace with this, and then maybe in a few years they're starting to talk about kids, and there's this realization that Laudna will also outlive those, and that's when she decides that she needs to do *something*. I don't know whether that's possible, but Matthew! More impossible things have been done in your world!

The Shade Mother! Is she still under Jrusar? It's kinda funny that BH's first main arc ended up with them running away and never finishing there ahaha.

Similarly, will they ever go down to find FCG's coin that Orym had thrown under Jrusar? I know at least some of the cast mentioned being curious about that.

Hey, talking about FCC, will BH Talk with Frida? What about D? Our group really didn't have much time to mourn him, so maybe finding the answers FCG was looking for regarding who he is would be a way for them to process their grief.

(I just had a thought about Ashton going back to Jrusar and Milo without FCG and this broke my heart)

Dorian and his family! He has mentioned them before, and we've met his father, but seeing where he grew up and having him introduce Orym would be nice. And vice versa with Orym introducing Dorian to his family (as his partner instead of his friend). But I'm hopeful this'll get brought up in the finale.

Imodna wedding! Because Laura Bailey deserves to have three weddings one-shot.

More Unseelie stuff! Idk, I feel like there was still more to do wrt Fearne & the Feys.

I'm hoping for a moment with Imogen and her parents in the finale. It's really the end of a big journey for Liliana, but there's another journey to start, about rebuilding (or trying to rebuild) those relationships that got affected by her search for answers. There's a "back from the war" vibe here, and I want to see it.

VM got some pre-campaign comics, M9 got some individual character origins comics, BH also deserves some comics! But what type? I'm not sure how I'd feel if it was exactly as what M9 got, so I'm hoping they'll get some original ideas within the CR crew!

Last (for now) but not least, when is Chetney finally going to die?

[clonerightsagenda]

To celebrate space archives getting published I might as well post an abandoned short story from 3 years ago that deals with a lot of the same themes in a more concentrated way. This is my toxic yuri for 2025. Enjoy and see if you can remember the post I made about it back in 2022.

This Story Was Made Possible By Viewers Like You

I never liked confession cams.

You know, someone sits in a soundproof room with just the cameras and talks all teary-eyed about how they’ve struggled, and how they really feel, now that no one can hear. But of course someone can hear. You can. You’re there, in the room with them, a few months in the future and a hundred miles away. It’s all a performance. Everything is.  

I’m not doing that, ok? This is for me.

They came to the house with bags full of clothing and artificial smiles. They came with extra toothbrushes and half-constructed plans. They came with high hopes and already dented dreams.

I came with nothing. I was already there.

It started the same as always. They jumped when I greeted them and then stole glances at each other’s reactions. No one said anything back. I didn’t expect them to. I’d been getting everything ready. Twenty bedrooms, names on the doors. Lights on, temperature tweaked up there, down here, never quite comfortable. I’m very good at that part of my job.

That first arrival scene goes through a lot of editing. Cut out the boring bits, highlight the quirks that make contestants stand out. The details we highlight set the audience’s perception of each player. Create heroes, villains, characters. No one on these shows presents themselves as they really are. You get the construct.

Me? I get a little bit more.

Let’s skip the boring parts. They milled around for a while before finding their rooms. Most unpacked their clothes. One placed a photograph on her dressing table, angling it so it would be in easy view of the camera. A bid for sympathy, I figured, but my opinion wasn’t the one that mattered.

The files would have told me that her name was Gloria Martina Sosa, contestant ID seventeen, age twenty-nine, pronouns she/her. Employed in finance and competing because her mother needed to pay for a medical procedure. The files would tell me that, but I already knew.

This time, there was a container of chocolates on the table when Gloria inched down the hallway to the dining area. She was good at finding her way around the floorplan already, even though it was designed to send them circling in the wrong direction and bumping into each other. I wondered if they noticed.

She approached the chocolates cautiously. She knew it had to be a test. I knew she liked chocolate.

“Can –” She paused before old-fashioned manners asserted themselves. “May I have one?”

“Yes,” I said.

She slid her hand in. Then she hesitated again, fingers still reaching. “Would you like one?”

I checked to see if someone else had entered the room. Nothing on the visuals from any of the dining room cameras. She was the only one there.

She was talking to me.

“No,” I said, after an obvious pause. Then, because of the manners, “No thank you.”

Her fingers curled around a chocolate. “That was stupid of me.”

I didn’t need to answer that, so instead I thought about her motives. I couldn’t show favoritism; she should know that. Did she want to look empathetic for the audience? She wouldn’t win any points cozying up to me.

Maybe she meant it as a genuine kindness. It was early enough that she might not know better.

“Do you ever wish you could eat?” she asked. The chocolate was in her mouth, but her fingers folded and refolded the square of foil.

Why was she still talking to me? I couldn’t tell her it was against the rules – it wasn’t, officially. So I said, “This won’t make good television.”

Her eyes widened. She was thinking of all the time she’d wasted here, the time her competitors might have been using to build alliances or look for clues. She yanked the container of chocolates off the table and ran back toward the hallway. She’d use them as an offering, maybe, or a bargaining chip. She didn’t say thank you, or goodbye.

Why would she? I’m not a player. I’m the host.

#

I know how this sounds, so let me set the record straight. I’m not an artificial intelligence. People love to claim they’ve invented a thinking machine, but when you drill down to the bones of one you’ll always find an algorithm. Sure, this place runs on all sorts of automation, but at the end of the day, you need a human to come up with a wicked twist or make sure the tracking software doesn’t mix up Mateo and Benjamin because there was a mishap in the laundry room and they’re wearing each other’s clothes. AI doesn’t have the flexibility a project like this demands. I don’t think it ever will. Or maybe that’s wishful thinking, since if it happens, I’ll be out of a job. It’s not a great job (I’m making minimum wage here) but I don’t have to pay rent or buy groceries, so the money adds up.

There used to be a whole team – six-hour shifts, front-end and back-end crews – but budget cuts hit everywhere. It gets quiet sometimes, but at least I don’t have to make a big production of hiding when I’m going to the bathroom with a tampon. I do the best I can, drink a lot of coffee, and chalk any delays or mistakes up to a buggy operating system. There are surgeries you can get to keep you sharper – some employers insist on them – but I wouldn’t let anyone stick neurotech in my brain even if I could afford it. Too many horror stories. It’s easy to keep them thinking I’m a machine. I slap a voice filter on, and my disinterest in everyone’s drama means I don’t have to fake sounding inhumanly bored.

But enough about the woman behind the curtain. That’s not what anyone tunes in for.

#

About half the guests roamed the halls after dark the first night, which meant prowlers skulking around corners and smacking into each other. I downed two energy drinks and kept an eye out for the most entertaining close calls so I could cut them together later. On other nights I’d feel safe sneaking some sleep, but the first was always busy.

Gloria stayed in her room. Instead of climbing into bed right away, she knelt and whispered something in Spanish. The translation software would handle that for anyone who wanted to know what she was praying for. I could guess.

When she finished, she looked up. They’re never sure where to focus when they talk to me. I’ve learned to read that lost expression as a sign I’m about to be on call. “If I need something, do I just ask?”

“That’s correct.” When she didn’t say anything else, I continued, “Did you need something?”

“Not right now.” Not from me.

#

The next few weeks passed the usual way. Dean found an immunity stone hidden behind the false back of the pantry. Three different groups swore ill-fated alliances while pretending to be preoccupied with their laundry. The first contestants were voted off, mostly because of dismal challenge performances and in one case because Heather kept stealing other people’s toothpaste. (Luckily for me, I didn’t have to listen to them moping about being eliminated. The losers’ quarters had cameras, of course – everywhere does – but none of those feeds went to my workstation.)

Most of the time the participants treated me as so much background, but there are always exceptions. One afternoon Haruto and Farah were arguing about an inane piece of early twenty-first century pop culture trivia and wanted me to tell them who was right, and Anna was asking about the latest sports scores, and one of the microphones in the dining room wouldn’t connect right even though I’d run troubleshooting, and –

“Is Corey busy?”

I pressed the intercom button for Gloria’s room and said, “One moment, please.” Then I switched channels (click). “The home team won their last game 4 to 1.” Click. “Yes, it was the same actor; they used CGI to make him look younger.” Click. “Sorry for the delay.” I punched in Corey’s ID to pull up the last place the cameras had seen him. “A lot of guests are requesting my services right now.”

I don’t know what did it. Maybe a hint of exasperation crept into my tone, or the keystrokes filtered through the speakers, or a real sentient computer program wouldn’t apologize. Whatever tipped her off, Gloria’s eyebrows pulled down. It wasn’t an expression of surprise as much as it said, ‘I knew it’.  

“You’re not an AI,” she said. “Are you.”

Damn. I could have lied. The producers would’ve wanted me to, but they left me there to play the game however I chose. Besides, I’d already paused too long. A machine wouldn’t have to think about it.

“A lot of the answers are. There’s a library of canned responses for the most predictable questions. I’m here for the more complicated problems.”

“Here?” She spun her eyes around the room like I might pop out of a closet.

“On site. Behind the scenes.”

“But you can see and hear me?” She hunched in on herself. “I don’t like that.”

“You signed up to be on a TV show.”

“That’s different.”

Because I wasn’t an adoring fan. “Did you want an answer to your question?”

“You can see him too?” She was hung up on that considering the position she put herself in. The contracts they signed asked them to give away all sorts of control.

“I can see everyone. I’m not watching all the time, though. That’s part of the automation. I get notified when there’s activity that might be interesting.” I checked the relevant screen, which showed me the feed from camera 251. “He’s brushing his teeth.”

“Is that interesting?”

“Not according to the system.” Showering would be, because the system’s a pervert. So are the folks back home, although the editors make sure to frame things just right so that we can deny we’re showing anything explicit.

She sighed. She kept her head angled toward the floor, like denying the cameras eye contact preserved some sliver of her privacy. “I guess I can’t opt out.”

“Not until you go home. You could try to be less interesting, but it’ll cost you.” That strayed dangerously close to advice. “I’ll delete this conversation, though. Have to preserve my image.”

That got her head to pop up. “You can do that?”

I wiggled my fingers over the keyboard, a pointless gesture since she couldn’t see me. “As long as you’re in this building, I’m basically God.”

“God.” Her lip curled. I’d seen her praying earlier. Maybe my boast sounded like blasphemy. “What’s your name?”

“I can’t tell you. I’ve got rules. Sorry,” I added, repeating that human touch that betrayed me.

“I don’t know why I asked.” She looked away from the camera again. “Don’t watch me sleep.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” She was pretty. But watching a pretty woman over the cameras isn’t automatically creepy. If it is, what does that say about you?

I tried to keep my word. Gloria wanted to believe she still had boundaries, and unlike our loyal viewers, I don’t get my kicks spying on people. Every so often, though, my eyes crept back to her square on my monitor. I knew so much about these people, and she was the only one who knew I existed. That knowledge was like a blinking notification that never went away.

#

I didn’t expect Gloria to talk to me again, and for a few days she didn’t. She sat in silence while I announced the day’s events or when other participants asked me questions, a frown mostly smoothed off her face. I saw it, though. That’s what she was frowning about.

Four days after our conversation, she was tearing her room apart looking for something. It’d been twenty minutes, and she wasn’t going to find it. I was waiting for her to figure that out. She groaned, tilted her head up, and asked, “Do you know where my charger is?”

“Under the sofa in the living room.”

She jumped. “That was fast.”

“Pretty good AI impression, right?” I hadn’t been watching her sleep, but I’d been paying attention. So sue me. If she decided to spill my secret, I’d have to… well, I didn’t know. It had never happened before.

“Is anyone else there right now?”

“Haruto and Farah.” Still arguing, somehow. Getting worked up about each other’s vintage cinema opinions was their version of entertainment.

She sighed and sat on the side of her bed. “I don’t want to get sucked into whether we need any more live action remakes. Can you tell me when they leave?”

“Sure.” Informal. I was slipping.

She drummed her ankles against the floor and then, with a huff, hopped up again and began straightening the mess she made. She wasn’t a woman who liked to be still. I wasn’t surprised when she broke the silence. “Does anyone else know?”

“If they’ve guessed, they haven’t said anything. This isn’t a test, or one of the puzzles you’re supposed to solve. You weren’t supposed to notice.”

She slammed a drawer. “Do you like spying on people?”

“That’s not what I’m doing.” She snorted. “It’s a job. A boring one, most of the time. Alerts tell me when any of you do something relevant, and then I cut the best footage together and send it back to the real editors. I’m not watching you every second. Who would want to?”

That got her to stop folding a shirt and look up at camera 387 so I’d be sure to see the disgusted expression on her face. “The fans?”

Fair point. “I forget about them sometimes.”

“I doubt your bosses would be happy to hear that.” She moved on to stuffing toiletries back into her bag, but her movements were less ferocious. “How did you end up working here?”

“I worked as set crew on a few smaller projects. I didn’t get training for it, but I’m good at picking up just enough to make myself useful.” That’s what kept me around through round after round of layoffs. I learned the bare bones of other people’s jobs, and upper management decided bare bones was enough. That kind of approach doesn’t make friends in the workplace, but neither does getting fired. And hey, it worked out that I’m not a team player. The only one on my team now is me.

“Do you like reality TV?”

“Hell no.” I couldn’t believe anyone would put up with the genre without getting paid for it. “But a job’s a job. Did you always dream about starring in something like this?”

She paused, clutching a bottle of perfume. “Not like this.” She took a bracing whiff – the label said orange vanilla, but smell is one thing I can’t piggyback on. “You’ll delete this?”

The start of our conversation was already flagged. “Speak freely.”

“I liked the romantic ones when I was younger. The fairy tale element; I read a lot of fairy tales growing up. Later I realized how artificial they were, but you keep hoping.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe I told you that.”

Neither could I. Then again, they were encouraged to bare their souls for the cameras. It must be a hard habit to break. “Given the data I’ve collected, I think Anna is your one true love.”

Instead of laughing, she shoved the perfume into her bag. “I’m not here for that.”

“I know.”

She zipped up the bag, stood, and looked right at the camera, hands on hips. It was the closest I’d come to eye contact with someone in months. “How much do you know about me?”

“Mostly what’s in your files.” I reread them after she caught me. I had her entire application packet, every official scrap of information the network collected.

“And I don’t know anything about you.”

“You know I don’t like reality TV.”

“What’s your favorite color?”

She shot the question at me, and I responded reflexively. “Blue. At least it is now. I don’t see the sky much on this job.”

“Blue.” She digested that and looked past the cameras, up to the ceiling and the sky beyond that she’d only see through windows until the game was over. “I miss it too.”

“Now you know one thing about me. Happy?”

“Can I ask more, later?” She sucked her lower lip between her teeth; I think the question surprised her as much as it did me. “I don’t like being watched by a stranger. I can’t stop you watching, but I can stop you from being such a stranger.” A crafty spark entered her eyes. “You are here to answer our questions. That’s what they told us in orientation.”

They did tell them that. “I’ll do what I can,” I said. “But be careful. I don’t want everyone in the house asking me for my biography.”

#

Gloria was the one on camera, but she was the one who forgot herself. She was standing in the kitchen running a plate under the water when she looked toward a camera and asked, “What do you eat?”

“Uh,” said Benjamin, waiting for his turn at the sink. “Are you talking to me?”

“Based on existing data, Benjamin enjoys soy-based products and fresh fruit,” I said in my best automaton voice.

At least she caught on quick. “Thank you,” she said, and went back to rinsing pasta sauce off her dishes.

After she retreated to her room, she said, “I’m guessing I’m not supposed to socialize with you.”

“There aren’t any rules against it,” I said, which wasn’t a no, and then followed it up with, “It’s not the most strategic use of your time,” which wasn’t a yes.

“I need a break from everything out there sometimes. At least I know what you’re lying about.”

Safer not to comment on that one. Besides, she was still going.

“Mateo is always trying to make sure the cameras get his good side; you know he’s here to make a name for himself. And Anna keeps talking about how she wants to buy her own automated mansion, like she can’t imagine going back to having to manually turn on the lights. They’re so trivial. It makes me want to toss them out a window and tell them to come back when they have something serious to compete for.”

I didn’t comment on that either, but I could’ve. The truth was, at least half the participants needed the money for reasons beyond popularity contests or tech upgrades. It didn’t matter. If I told her, she wouldn’t think they deserved it as much as she did. Even without the files, I could have read her life story in her unblemished skin and name brand outfits. She’d never sweated through record-breaking summers because during surge periods companies always cut off the poorest neighborhoods first. She wrinkled her nose at the cricket flour crackers in the pantry like someone who had the luxury to leave food on her plate. She had no idea how many people watched her and wished they could take her place – not for a chance at a cash prize or fifteen minutes of fame, but just to have a safe place to sleep and enough to eat. When people watch shows like this, it’s not about rooting for an individual, not really. It’s about constructing elaborate narratives about themselves. Wanting participants, wanting to be them: there’s not much of a difference in the end. They’re all different flavors of consumption. Some players catch on faster and embrace being the product.

But Gloria was used to being on the other side of the equation. She’d been comfortable her whole life, and this medical bill was the first time she hadn’t had enough to make the world work the way she wanted. So she came running here for a fairy tale ending, because of course she was entitled to that along with everything else.

You’d think people like me who’ve been struggling their whole lives would fight hardest, but people like that? They get vicious.

Instead I said, “So you’re saying it’s nice to talk to me.”

“It’s a change.”

I minimized camera 16’s window where Richard and Destiny are gearing up to either start a fight or swap spit. Hard to tell with those two. “What do you want to talk about?”

“What do you think of us? You watch us all day.”

“Not all day, I told you. Honestly it’s – did you ever work customer service?” Her eyebrows jumped. I could’ve guessed that too. “Well, in that kind of job, you don’t pay much attention to individuals. You’re all one big crowd. Of course, you’re also my only live entertainment. Could you do anything more interesting?”

“Any suggestions?”

“Steal Corey’s watch.”  

She laughed. Corey told everyone who would listen how expensive his custom-made timepiece was. His audience hung on to every word, although they were mostly hanging on to his cheekbones. “That won’t get me any votes.”

“I’d vote for you.”

“You mean you’re not charmed by him?”

“Not my type.”

“Not mine either.”

I know, I thought, but I didn’t say it. She didn’t like to be reminded.

#

Gloria didn’t steal Corey’s watch. The next time he made a production of giving someone the time she looked right at the nearest camera, and I almost choked on my protein bar laughing.

After she left that conversation, she slipped into her room and leaned against the door. “You always delete the video when I’m talking to you, right?”

“It wouldn’t do me any good to send it on.”

Her shoulders loosened. It was surprising, and a little gratifying, that my presence now made her relax. “In the real world, you’re pressured to be doing something useful with every second of your life. In here, every second you’re performing for the cameras. It’s nice to be able to stop.”

I covered a yawn with one hand and reached for my coffee. “At least you get regular rest periods. I can’t give you details, but some people were keeping me up last night.”

She frowned. “Would you rather I let you go?”

The frown was also gratifying. “No, there’s enough I need to monitor right now anyway. Just keep your activities within regular business hours. That’ll make you a model participant in my book.”

“I’ll try.” She settled onto her bed and stretched her arms over her head, bending back the wrists. Then she asked, abruptly, “Do you have a favorite guest?”

“I’m not supposed to pick favorites. I won’t name names, but my least favorite is someone who starts whistling when they’re trying to concentrate. I always get the tune stuck in my head.”

“I’d hate that too.” She dropped her arms down and rested her hands in her lap. “It doesn’t seem fair. You get to see all of us, and I don’t get to see you.”

“It’s for the best that you can’t.” I shifted in my chair where I was sitting cross-legged in sweatpants I’d been wearing for three days straight. “I don’t have to be presentable to anyone back here. My hair’s a mess.”

She shrugged. “It would be nice to see any new face. Can you tell me what you look like?”

“Better not.” There weren’t any rules against that either – no one would’ve thought we needed them. But I wasn’t there to be looked at. “Just… imagine me. Whatever you’d like.”

She thought for a moment and then said, “You look nice.”

“Thank you.”

#

For the next month, I watched from my hundreds of cameras and listened through my hundreds of microphones. I scoured test banks for trivia questions and rearranged the responsive floor plan to build obstacle courses. I beamed everything back to our viewers, and the network compiled data to send back. Their demands were predictable. So-and-so is popular; be sure to get close-ups. Contestants X and Y don’t get along. Trap them in a room together with a malfunctioning door. Sometimes the instructions were specific, but often they just told me what the audience wanted. By now, I knew how to get it.

While I did that, I watched Gloria. She was average, as these things go. She lasted longer than half the participants in a challenge where I cranked the temperature lower and lower. Then she flopped when asked to identify the fake headline in a social media feed. She nodded to cameras with a half-smile, and although she could be doing it for the viewers, I couldn’t help but wonder if she was doing it for me.

She stayed kinder than I expected, even as everyone dropped the niceties and the game turned into a bloodbath of votes and eliminations. I’m not usually wrong reading people. I have so much to go on.

She kept talking to me late at night. Participants are promised some privacy in their bunks. (If they read their contracts line by line they know better. Viewers get very interested whenever a player invites someone else in. That was happening in two locations, so it was easy to cover up my own indiscretions.)

“Do you know what’s happening back home?

“Only what the network sends me.” I didn’t miss it. Participants signed up for fame or money, but escape would work as well. At least locked in this house, the problems weren’t real. You knew the challenges were fake, and everyone went to bed with a full stomach at the end of the day. It’s not a bad gig, really.

“I don’t know how my mother’s doing.” She was staring at the ceiling instead of making virtual eye contact with me. “Sometimes I’m afraid I won’t get back in time. It feels like it’s been longer than a few weeks.”

She didn’t seem to be waiting for a response. They were encouraged to think out loud for the cameras.

#

Nine weeks into this round of the game, she was in trouble. We didn’t talk about it. I was supposed to be her refuge from all that. Ridiculous, if you think about it, but we all have our illusions. She didn’t have access to viewer opinion polls or other players’ confessions, but I could tell from the way she held herself that she knew. If she didn’t win this week’s challenge, she was gone.

That shouldn’t have bothered me. I don’t pick favorites. Players come and go and nothing changes. Except…

I used to talk to my coworkers’ empty chairs to hear my own voice. I erased crosswords and started them again. The job without Gloria would be… boring. I didn’t want to look across all my monitors and not see her there.

I’ve never related to the viewers who root for their favorite contestant. This was different. They’re behind a screen watching the edited version of a woman from miles away, a woman who doesn’t even know they exist. I knew her. She knew me.

She didn’t ask for my help. I’d like to imagine she respected my integrity or didn’t want to risk my job, but I saw the way she threw herself into trying to shore up shaky alliances, too little too late. She’d rather rely on herself. I might be the all-seeing eye and the voice in her ear when she went to sleep, but when it comes to playing the game, no one pays attention to the help.

My inbox dinged. The network was responding to my latest batch of video. I skimmed through it: suggestions for contrived scenarios to start people fighting, instructions to let the showers break down, standard stuff. Then, at the end: We need new topics for this week’s trivia challenge. Any ideas?

The challenges got repetitive after a while. Production was always looking for suggestions. I opened a reply, started typing, and then paused.

I could help. No one would know. Gloria would be here, with me, for another week.

It wouldn’t be my first case of workplace dishonesty. I’d fibbed on timesheets and extended my breaks like everyone has. I’d kept my mouth shut and let coworkers take the fall for my mistakes. This was interference with the outcome of the show, though. I could get fired.

Who was going to catch me? Me?

I typed, What about fairy tales?

#

Gloria was exultant. She won the trivia challenge, securing her place for the week and spurring a nasty double cross in an alliance that had been planning on forcing her out. She paced back and forth in her room, rehashing her triumph. I responded with customer service hmms. It didn’t occur to her that I might be behind the convenient choice of topics. Which was fine. If she realized, she might let it slip, or expect more favors, and I’d risked enough already. It was fine that I was everywhere controlling everything and she still acted like she had no idea. People like her are the same everywhere. They assume the world runs itself.

“If I win next week’s challenge and Richard and Destiny stay on bad terms, I have a chance,” she said. “I could win.”

I didn’t say much in response. Maybe she thought I was being careful not to spill any show secrets, or maybe to her I was just another audience member witnessing her triumph. I’d had so much time to watch and still had trouble reading her.

I’m not omniscient, is the point. I never had the power to read her mind or control her or even save her in the end. I was only ever buying time.

I’d built a habit of letting emails pile up and answering them when I felt like it, but now I never closed my inbox. I took my phone with me on bathroom breaks or rare trips outside. Of course, if the network found out what I’d done, they might not bother with professional communication. They might send a crew in with no notice to throw me out on my ass.

That dampened my enthusiasm as Gloria dreamed of making the final three. Household malfunctions rose. I got jumpy. Anna asked me a question, and I froze, because for a moment I thought I’d been caught. A spam email snuck through my filter, and I spilled my energy drink all over the keyboard when I heard the notification. I wanted to scream through the intercoms, Don’t you know what I can do? What I’ve already done? You don’t even know that I’m here.

Instead I turned the heat up two degrees and reassured Anna that she’d buttoned up her dress correctly.  

#

In the end, I didn’t get caught. The shutdown order came for different reasons. Mateo, a fan favorite, had settled into a committed relationship. The move wasn’t popular with viewers. They liked him as a heartbreaker with someone else in his bunk every night. I don’t get the appeal, but ratings are ratings.

End the game, wipe their memories, and start over, the message said, with a list of new parameters to try. Just like the last four times I got this email. Neurotech sure has expanded the boundaries of reality programming.

Like I said, I’ve got horror stories.

I flicked through the changes. The bulk were new living arrangements and challenges tailored to different participants’ skills. The true appeal was more pathos for viewers to sigh over, as former lovers betrayed each other and friends met again as strangers. They eat it up so much I wonder if the game will ever end.

Maybe I should be happy about that. It’s job security.

I could see Gloria out of camera 43. She was selecting a meal packet and humming to herself. I wanted to warn her, to say that every time before this she’d become someone shut off or brittle or cruel, and that I liked her better this way. I wanted to tell her it’d been thirteen months since she saw her mother, not two. I wanted to ask if she had any idea. But I signed a contract too.

Instead I waited until after lights out and said, “Let me show you something.”

Gloria trusted me enough by now that she waited until I’d directed her to a blank stretch of wall to ask, “Why did you bring me here?”

“If you compare the interior to the outside of the house, this can’t be an exterior wall. There’s too much space. You didn’t notice?”

“I didn’t.”

She did in three of the other versions. Gloria had rarely been a model participant. She’d explored more, discovered more, when she wasn’t talking to me. “When people do, I tell them it’s not part of the game. It’s where we keep some of the machinery used to run the facilities.”

“What’s really on the other side?”

“Me.”

She started at that, looking from the camera to the wall and back again, like she assumed I lived in the fiber optics. “You’re there?”

“In my own set of apartments. It’s roomy now that I’m the only one. There’s a side door, so I even get a little sun sometimes. There’s a lot of machinery back here with me, though. We try not to lie when we can tell part of the truth. Makes it easier to keep track of everything.”

She reached out and presses her hand to the chipped paint of the wall. “You were always right here.”

“Hang on, I’m at a different terminal.” I hopped out of my chair and squeezed myself between my desk and the one that used to belong to Paulo before the last round of cutbacks. “Now I’m right there.” I was simplifying things, of course. There was at least a foot of wires and paneling between us, but it was still the closest we’d ever been. I reached out to press my hand to the wall and imagined the touch of another human’s skin against my own.

This was my last chance to tell the truth. I could reveal everything, lead her to the emergency exit only I knew about, and invite her to run away with me to… what? We were both there because we needed something, and the world won’t give you anything for free. In this house, blasphemy or not, I was basically God. I could steer her away from danger. I could construct a narrative. Outside, I couldn’t create a happy ending for either of us.

From what I knew of Gloria Martina Sosa, the many possible Gloria Martina Sosas who had walked under this roof, she would hate me for keeping this from her.

It was a good thing she didn’t know me at all.

“Why did you decide to tell me now?” she asked.

There were a lot of things I could have said. Because this version of you dies tomorrow. Because there are bigger rules I won’t break, and I want to believe I’m a person who would break some of them, for you. Because I’m saying goodbye, and you don’t even know it.

“Because we’re getting close to the end now,” I said. “You’ll be too busy soon to think about me.”

“It’s hard to not think about you when you’re watching all the time. Especially now that I know exactly where you are.” She ran her fingers across the paint before pulling away. “Maybe when this is over I’ll be able to see you face to face.”

I couldn’t hesitate. If I hesitated, she might guess something is wrong, and my entire job relied on returning polished answers with mechanical precision. “That would be nice.” I was using my work voice, all business. “You should get back to bed before anyone wonders why you’re up.”

She smiled – at the wall rather than the camera. She might have been looking toward me, but that means she didn’t meet my eyes. “Are you worried about my beauty sleep?”

“Rest is important,” I said. “I’m not supposed to have favorites, but I’m rooting for you.”

Thanks to my instructions, she made it back without running into anyone, turning corners and ducking into rooms without a word of protest. Once I delivered her to her room, she dimmed the lights and slipped into bed to while away the last few hours this version of her would ever see.

I watched her fall asleep, and I didn’t say a word.

Maybe next time.

#

They were called in for a medical check-up the next morning. “Is this a challenge?” Gloria asked while getting dressed.

“No,” I said. “It’s perfectly normal.” The producers would be pleased. I’d never sounded less human.

#

Teardown procedure between rounds was always the same. I filled out the standard paperwork and finished packaging the last days of footage to be shipped back to the editors. My email inbox could be thinned out. I’d gotten practiced, and none of the tasks took long. Then it was just me, the empty house, and Gloria’s ghost roaming the silent halls.

If you look at it right, I’m doing her a favor. Outside the house, the monsters are so much worse than me. People want to be you, or have you, and they’ll eat you alive. People who grew up like me would understand. They might even ask me to do the same for them.

I don’t know why I’m bothering to justify myself. My job is to watch and record, not to editorialize. There’s no reason for me to sit down in front of the camera and say, My name is Cal, and there’s nothing I could have done. But I guess I’ve caught the narrative bug after watching everyone else spin out their stories, because here I am making my recording. Wishing there was someone on the other side of the screen to turn me into someone new.

I have no illusions that I would be an audience favorite. That’s never been my role.

An email with the finalized set-up for round six arrived in my inbox, and I scanned it so I’d be prepared. There will be no chocolates next time. Every round, the producers try something different. But I will say hello, and maybe this time she will say it back.

#

They come to the house with bags full of clothing and artificial smiles. They come with extra toothbrushes and half-constructed plans. They come with high hopes and already dented dreams.

I come with nothing. I was already here.

[chokiechips]

Yandere Head Canons: Wally Darling

For some reason, yandere and obsessive Wally (ahhh pookie <3) seems so obvious, and i can't help but see it! It's so in his nature. Hope you enjoy!

Themes: yandere a smidge, lil fluff, delusional yandere, obsessive traits

I would think when he first meets you, it would probably be much later after the first episode of the Welcome to the Neighborhood series is aired.

He would probably know you as one of the new characters there, just a simple minded little person who has no clue what's going on behind the scenes and is just happy to be there.

He would be pretty alright with you at first like the other neighbors, maybe joining the other neighbors in their day-to-day activities, picking up mail at the post office, or having fun with Frank and Julie.

You start to notice him more often, and of course, being a great neighbor, you JUST have to get to know him. oh if only you knew how bad a decision this must be.

You feel excited at first, standing in front of the front door of Home, an apple pie in your hand, just to make peace with your neighbor and make a possible friend! Just in case, you talked with Julie and Frank and got his likes and dislikes, afraid of not wanting to upset this person you haven't talked to yet.

After a few light raps to the front door of Home, you'd wait there patiently, hoping that Wally Darling is in. Immediately he opened the door, and lo and behold, it's Wally!

He lets you in, and can't help but notice the delicious fragrance of apple wafting from your hands into his nostrils. An apple pie? How absolutely lovely of you!

After several hours of talking and conversing about the Neigborhood itself, and the puppets that live here, you can notice how Wally slowly lets himself get comfortable with you, allowing you to switch with him to sit on his iconic yellow chair.

But oh, the way you sat propped up happily in it, your thighs crossed just right , your bright smiling eyes looking up at him, Wally can't help but think you're just made for this. Nothing bizarre of course, maybe Julie or Barnaby could fare just as well, but there's something just so special about you, he can't seem to put his finger on it!

Over the coming days, the rest of the neighbors grow suspicious of the lengthy hours you'd spend at Home, the way Wally would casually let you sit next to him at his front yard and paint Home with him. His brush sitting primly in your hand as you make an attempt at painting Home, creating some sort of mess. But Wally can't help but find it endearing. Look how Home responds to your painting, to your splash of colors! Home may be a little friendly, but Wally can't help but feel his heart feel gooey and warm at the way Home interacts with you. Would you like to live in Home with him? Home would love that!

Soon, Wally and you become practically inseperable, best friends even! Wherever you go, he's always sure to follow. The way his eyes dilate at the sight of you, the paintings of you he'd paint without fail, the little accidents you'd cause (definitely not by Home) that Wally would come to help fix, a large smile on his face. Of course he would help! You're his darling neighbor! or maybe the future Darling?

On a particular night, Wally and you chat over the episode that occured that day, smiling ear to ear about the silly things that happened, and the lessons learned that day. As you talk, you don't seem to notice the way Wally would lean onto every word you said, the way Home would ensure nothing, no furniture made a single noise, as you spoke.

Your word was key.

Friendliest neighbor he may be to everyone, but to you he would be more than friendly. He would do anything for you.

Until the name Howdy Pillar slipped from your mouth as you spoke.

Wally hands trembled at the thought of it, a smile plastered on his face as the thought echoed through his mind, your rambles continuing to echo throughout the living room.

A strand or two fell from his hairdo, eyes widening at the thought.

Howdy? Why him? You, Wally and Home were practically soulmates at this point!

Maybe it was time for some proving. Of how friendly Wally Darling truly could be.

[kishimotomasashi]

What's always gotten to me the most about Hashirama and Madara's relationship (and their tragedy as individual characters) is how the fact that they're both so monstrously powerful fits into it.

Like, in a world where people are living weapons and your worth is determined by how well you function as one, the position of "most powerful out of all these weapons" is one that's out of their hands by default: their existence is instrumentalized politically and for their immediate mission work, so they're caught in this feedback loop of being considered the most exceptional people who have ever lived for as long as the shinobi world still runs on war trade. It's a position that Madara ends up giving into and identifying with fully, while Hashirama wants to act like he can shake (some of) it off even though the success of his endeavours rely on him playing into it.

The most immediate consequence of this is that they've always been put up against one another, in battle, because literally no one else was matching them. Whether or not they'd already met as kids they were always eventually going to meet, and always frequently, because the war between their clans would have required it. Violence between them is and was an inevitable aspect of the fact that Hashirama and Madara even exist.

Which hurts when you think about how they actually met, because they did so in circumstances where it felt to them like none of that needed to matter! They were never rivals for its own sake, they were friends with the same wish for a better life and a better future, but their rosy little bubble of dreams couldn't withstand the pressure of the present world they lived in, where the violence ran far too deep both in its structures and in how they understood their place in it. At the end of the day, battling against one another had consistently always been the one real thing they could ever with each other.

Bit of a tragic irony: the violence is what separates them, but is also what keeps them bound together. They're both aware of this, Madara in a way more resigned, Hashirama having tried his very hardest to make it otherwise until he realized he just couldn't bridge the gap. Maybe somewhere and somehow they could have actually made it, but with just how fixed all in the world felt to them, it's easy to see why they never managed to make the choices that would ensure it.

[smellroy]

The Terror but it's Geronimo Stilton

Bonus:

[hal-o-ween]

Sweet Dreams <3

[thegreatyin]

honestly part of the reason i've been really looking forward to finally playing light fingers (aside from the obvious horrors and whatnot) is because it, alongside bag a legend, contains a Choice™ i to this day am Extremely Torn About Making. like i've known for ages that the Choice™ exists in this ambition and STILL i am undecided about it. this Choice™ is of course. well. let's just say that by the time this ambition ends, caeru may not be the only catboy around town

[aroaessidhe]

2024 reads / storygraph

Charlie Tangaroa and the God of War

book 2 in a middle grade series about a boy whose father is a Ponaturi (sea-goblin)

charlie and his brother are back living their normal lives - until a visiting scientist is stabbed in a local campground, right before a meeting between iwi and the government over local resources

they try to investigate and quickly learn that Whiro, atua of chaos is involved, sowing discord between various groups, and they have to figure out a way to solve things before anyone else gets hurt

cover & illustrations by yours truly!

[mildcicada]

[bluastro-yellow]

get it Kim has a lot to unpack do you get it

it's imperfect I'll never polish it just take it as it is I should have put aerostatics not airplanes...

[qtubbo]

You know I don’t think I really processed qphil learning Dapper was kidnapping and just laughing, it wasn’t even a in the moment you hear something dark reaction like foolish (where he laughs then goes oops and gets serious, thats a valid reaction to dark stuff it happens), he didn’t come back from it he just didn’t care.

[jacksoneblackburn]

THIS IS A JACKS LORE DUMP. VERY, VERY LONG OVERDUE, JACKS LORE DUMP.

This is a certified out-of-character post (also, small irl update)

Jacks was born in the 1700s, specifically 1789, October 31. Jacks is one of the time displaced kids at Camp Half-Blood, and is still getting used to how to use devices. They were kinda confused when Leo [Valdez] handed them a talking brick that made beeps and music.

After one day, after getting claimed by Apollo, they ended up becoming a medical assistant in their village. They were amazing at healing people. Some called them a "healer." Other said they were a witch that immediately needed to be executed by cutting off their head.

They (they being the village, not Jacks) ended up deciding to go down the witchery path when Jacks healed someone's arm, which was mauled by a Lycaon disguised as a regular wolf, and reattaching the dude's arm back onto his body without stitches. Not the smartest move, but then again, the person who got mauled was Jacks's first (secret) boyfriend.

(Quick b-t-dubs, Jacks is descended from Erebus and Hephaestus)

So, when they strapped them to a log, surrounded by spears and tinder, Jacks wasn't sure what to do. They could control small amounts of fire due to being a descendant of Hephaestus, shadow travel because of Erebus, and heal themself if they needed a way to fake dying (somehow).

They decided the safest option was hiding in the Underworld, shadow travelling down there. When they shadow travelled into the underworld, they were immediately met with good news, and bad news.

Good News? There was no longer a bloodthirsty mob after them with flaming torches.

Bad News? They were stuck in Erebus's pocket dimension in the underworld.

Now, I'm not sure if you have been stuck in utter, and complete darkness from 1802 to 2021 (~219 years), stuck at 13 and not being able to think properly, going insane due to isolation for what felt like eternity. But for Jacks? They mentally and physically stayed the same age for years.

They never grew up, they were alone and afraid, forgotten by everyone else until they were able to escape (somehow, idk, I'm working out the details on that as we speak).

When they managed to get out, Nyx and Erebus decided to have Mercy on Jacks, giving them a bracelet that transformed into a small, beaded bracelet, where if you snapped off a bead, the bracelet would transform into a Stygian Iron sickle, kinda like those farmer ones where you can hold it in one hand.

Not that it helped Jacks's situation, but at least they had a weapon to protect themself from everything around them.

Fast forward a few months, specifically a month (and a day) before their birthday, they make it to the rumored Camp Half-Blood. They've heard of it during school at some point through myths and rumors. Also, supposedly George Washington was a demigod, but they never taught that in their school (the teachers were so uncool for that tbh).

When they got there, a teen, around the same age as them, with vitiligo and pink hair. He introduced Jacks to Chiron, and showed Jacks around camp, then introduced himself as Tyler (if you followed my blog for a bit, you know where this is going ;] ).

Tyler was a cool, awesome son of Demeter, descended from Aphrodite (his grandma's side). Jacks was from Pennsylvania and Tyler was from Canada. The two weren't too different either. Jacks, inevitably, started developing feelings for Tyler. Though the feelings were small, and sometimes went away completely, Jacks really wanted to date Tyler.

Tyler ended up asking Jacks out two years after they met, and have been happily dating ever since.

Jacks was afraid of the dark, because of the shadow dimension in the underworld, so Tyler made Jacks a candle that would never go out or melt so Jacks would never be in the dark ever again.

Present day, Jacks spend their time with their friends Nico, Percy, Thalia, Jason, Hazel, Annabeth, Magnus, Toast n' Donut (yes, they're frogs, again, idc), Koi, Xea, Tyson, Ella, Mrs. O'Leary (dogs count, idc), Leo, Will, Hilal Khalil, Tyler, and his adoptive parents Davey M[atten]. Red and John H[arriet]. Red

If you read this far, holy crabs do you have a large attentions span. Either that or you're a nerd like me :) (or you're one of my mooties)

I love y'all (platonically), be safe, and I'll try to upload more often every other weekend. I have school stuff and I'll try to post around 6-7 A.M. EST. Also, thank you for tagging me in stuff on both of my accounts ( @ghostkingdiangelo) and this account. I'll catch up on all mah schtuff soon.

Thanks for reading again!

@bright-side-of-the-moon

[clowncar27]

Haven’t posted in a while, so here’s screenshots from some of my old Roblox games (2017-2018). I was able to look through my old laptop and get them onto my current computer. Most of it is just myth stuff-