#surviving lucem

[kou-jpg]

my recent empyrea pic

[toastthewolfie]

me with PGR:

When I first started playing: awww, this is a really cute game with a great concept! I think I’ll keep playing :33333

Me after finishing chapters 13-17: *sobbing* WHAT THE FUCK MAN-

[descendedgaia]

𝕭𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖊𝖗 𝖔𝖋 𝕱𝖑𝖆𝖒𝖊𝖘

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 9

phainon x gn!reader wc: 3.21k tw: angst, death, martyrdom, apocalypse, hope v despair, trauma Story Elements taken from Punishing: Gray Raven, The Surviving Lucem Masterlist ☲IN which you are not a Chrysos Heir or a Titan, but a human being who struggles and shall bring the story of the Flame Chasers the grand and spectacular ending it deserves. Previous Chapter

── .✦·········────

You don’t know how long it has been, but it has at least been a full day since you last left with the second group of refugees. And now, you have finally made it back to this hellscape, kneeling before the broken body of a boy who wished to fly and hold his ice cold hand in yours.

Your breath trembles and falters. You want to speak, to say something, but your words are lost before they can reach your trembling lips. It feels like something is lodged into your heart, and every breath pulls at the pain nerves. 

No matter how many times you check, the result is the same. The boy in front of you has grown cold and lifeless. A gentle breeze echoes through the ruins, whispering and echoing through the courtyard and empty halls like a frolicking child. Yet the gate to freedom is so close but yet so far for those who were trapped here.

“I…,” you gasp out. “...I…”

The sorrow and sadness that you’ve tried so desperately to bottle up within yourself is too much to bear. You can no longer hold it in as the barrier crumbles and lets out the deepest of your emotions.

You hate yourself. 

You hate yourself for breaking a promise that you made. You hate yourself for not being capable enough. You hate yourself for not doing more despite the situation. You hate yourself for not trying harder to save these people. 

You hate yourself because, through it all, you are always the only one remaining.

The skinny border collie circles around his dead master, licking the blood that has run dry and turned black, but the wounds will never heal again. Hector turns around and touches your hand with his wet nose, whining as he beseeches you to bandage his owner.

“...”

Your path to Olenius had been beset by creatures of the Black Tide. Monsters that howled soundlessly and dripped with corrupting stygian sludge. All who were able had fought back as much as they could with makeshift weapons. And by some grace and the effort of everyone together, there were no casualties albeit many critically injured from the altercations.

But if the path to Olenius had been dangerous, then the path back to Ladon had been hellish.

You had elected to go back with only Priam and one Droma, but even a fast journey between the two of you hadn’t been enough. Several detours had to be taken, and several more creatures staved off from dragging you into the Black Tide and consuming you.

And when you finally returned, it was all too late.

The two of you had split up to look for survivors. Tired and wounded, you had trudged back to Ladon only to find the three people who had stayed behind have passed away.

All the deaths you have witnessed doesn’t make you indifferent or cold-hearted. You will always regret your inability to save lives.

If only you had the ability to change all of this. If only you had taken them with you, then you would’ve been able to save them. Theo. Katherine. Astyanax…all of them.

But there is no “would have”. And “if only”s are simply a fantasy borne of desperation and regret.

Woof! 

Just when you’re about to fall down deeper into a vortex of regrets, a loud barking sound interrupts your thoughts. 

“Hector…,” you reach out and place your hand on the border collie’s head. Upon hearing his name and feeling your touch, the dog sits obediently. Your lip curls and you choke, chest aching painfully and swelling until it presses white-hot against your eyes. “You’re the only one left…”

Should you take him with you? The people are biased. Supplies are scarce and a dog will only exacerbate the people’s agitation. Perhaps you should let him go free for his own good.

But Hector might not live safely out there. Those wandering the world might attack Hector, humans included.

You don’t know what to do, but you notice something white in the boy’s breast pocket. You reach out with trembling hands, tugging out a folded note stained in blood. You unfold it and are greeted with the sight of a pair of wings. The lines are thick, constantly traced over, as if they were going to tear through the paper. 

Your fingers move along the pencil lines before you flip over the paper, finding the scribbled message left behind by the boy.

『i’m worried about hector. if by the time you return, hector is still here, please take him with you. 

i don’t regrt leaving the droma. i wanted to help him 

if you see me like this, please don’t be sad 

the fact that you kept your promise and returned makes me hapy 

thank you. i’m afraid i must go now』 

Before, the writer of this note had bled, dripping crimson pearls that soaked the paper. And now, in the hands of its reader, translucent pearls of tears drip and smudge over the words. The one left behind, after trying so desperately to save everyone, begins to cry.

── .✦·········────

“It’s only Hector…” Priam stares forlornly at the four makeshift graves situated by the barn.

You gave proper burials to Ianthe, Theo, Katherine, and Astyanax. 

You nod silently, unable to use your voice. But thankfully, Priam at least sympathizes with the depth of your grief. He herds you back on the Droma and doesn’t bother you as you keep your silence for the journey back to Olenius. 

The difference is stark. Riding on the back of a Droma had once been a hectic affair with all of the refugees crammed together: shouts, sobs, cries, whispers, and prayers. But now it is only silence.

The voices of self-doubts crowd your mind, and it isn’t until you reunite with the refugees do you finally gather yourself together and pick yourself up.

“You’re back!”

Patroclus hobbles to the front of the crowd. Helena walks briskly to you beside him, but when she sees the expressions on both of your faces, she already knows the fate of those who had stayed behind.

“Where’s Astyanax?” Patroclus asks you. “Hector’s here.”

“...Patroclus,” you speak softly. You can’t muster the strength to raise your voice, but thankfully, only speaking his name is enough to quell his questions. You pull out the bloodstained note and hand it to him.

He stares down at it in disbelief before his shaking hands gingerly takes the folded piece of paper. He unfolds it, seeing the drawn pair of wings before scanning the barely intelligible words that Astyanax had left behind.

“Is he…?” Patroclus looks up at you in desperation.

Your unseeing gaze silences him and you shake your head. And in the face of your confirmation, Patroclus shatters.

His breathing pace becomes faster, reaching a fever pitch, as his posture hitches with each inhale and exhale. And then he chokes, quiet sobs spilling out as tears stream from his eyes and drip upon the desolate earth.

“I-I…I didn’t…,” he sobs. “I didn’t mean for this to happen! I…I didn’t want him to die!”

He wails. “I didn’t mean to make anyone die!”

You purse your lips together before you step forward and gather him in your arms, holding Patroclus close to you as he cries and cries. 

“...Hey.”

You look up at Helena who is looking down upon you. She stops when she sees the blank gaze in your expression before she sighs in sympathy. “Let’s get you some rest, alright? We’ll leave tomorrow as soon as we can.”

“Okay…,” you nod woodenly. “...Okay…”

You let yourself be guided inside, barely cognizant of the sympathetic gazes cast upon your form. In the end, shock and depression give way to exhaustion, and when you lay down you fall into slumber.

“Hmmm~” 

“Is something wrong?” 

The three of you are sitting upon that hill once more. But instead of laying down and casting your gaze into the heavens, you and the boy bracket Cyrene in as she looks at the card that the boy had picked. 

“Mmm~?” 

The boy groans, nudging Cyrene’s shoulder with his own impatiently. “Don’t keep me in suspense! Come on, tell me already. What did you see?” 

Cyrene giggles, eyes creasing in mirth as she holds the card to her lips to stifle some of her laughter. “Haha, I just wanted to get a reaction out of you.” 

“Cyreneeeee!” the boy whines. He looks at you hoping that you would at least reprimand Cyrene for his mischief, but you simply roll your eyes and nudge Cyrene’s shoulder. 

“Don’t leave the poor brute in suspense.” 

“Hey!” 

“Alright, alright, I’ll tell you,” Cyrene interjects before the two of you could devolve into another petty squabble. “This card is the Deliverer.” 

“Deliverer?” the boy repeats, tilting his head in confusion. “What does that mean?” 

You recognize the term from one of those conversations you had with Cyrene long ago. Even though there’s a whimsical smile on her lips as she regards the little boy, you’ve known her long enough to spot the glimmer of sadness in her eyes.  

“Cyrene…” 

Cyrene blinks at you before she beams. “It’s okay. I’m alright.” 

The boy watches the exchange between you two, and before he can demand Cyrene’s attention again, Cyrene turns to him. “The interpretation is really long. Maybe I should skip it…” 

She taps her bottom lip in thought before she gives the boy a smile. “All you need to know is, this card means…you’ll be a hero worshipped by all! You will protect this world and save lots and lots of people from scary enemies with your sword! Do you like the sound of that?” 

From how much he has played warrior with that wooden sword of his, you would’ve thought that he would’ve been ecstatic at such a prospect. However, you’re surprised at how his face scrunches up in uncertainty. “But…” 

Cyrene is similarly caught off guard. “What’s the matter? This is a good card!” 

“But…I don’t want to be everyone’s hero,” he shakes his head. “I just want to stay in this village with everyone I know. Grandma and Grandpa said the outside world is full of bad people. That’s why they’re always at war. Who wants to save bad people like them? I can be a hero, but only our village’s little hero!” 

Cyrene blinks before her expression softens with a small giggle. 

“That’s…surprisingly mature of you,” you remark. 

“Hey!” the boy reels back indignantly. “I can be mature!” 

“Well, little hero,” Cyrene steps back into the conversation. “If the day comes for us to say goodbye to Aedes Elysiae, could you become a Deliverer then?” 

The boy falters. “Do I…have to leave the village?” 

Cyrene dims for a moment just too fast for the little boy to catch. But you see it and squeeze her hand in comfort. “If something like that happens, someone will have to save the world.” 

“Then…,” the boy tries to come up with another answer. “Then I’ll…” 

Cyrene hums as she watches the uncertainty woven into the boy’s form. “I’m just teasing you. Don’t worry, Aedes Elysiae is a peaceful place. Bad people won’t reach us here.” 

Cyrene shuffles the ‘Deliverer’ card back into the deck and smiles at you. “Do you want to pick a card too?” 

You look down at the deck. “Are you sure?” 

Cyrene pauses but she smiles. “I’m sure.” 

“Alright…,” you sigh. You take a moment, fingertips ghosting over the cards before you pluck one that catches your eye and turn it over. “...The Hearth.” 

“The Hearth?” the boy repeats in confusion. Cyrene leans against your shoulder and peers at the card that you’ve picked out.  

“It means home and family,” Cyrene tells you. “...You will be the Flame Bearer that will warm the hearts of the people and provide them a sanctuary that will stand strong against the chill night.” 

“Is that right?” you hum as you let your eyes trace over the card’s glimmering designs. You let your hand fall on your lap and look over to Cyrene. And she…sniffling? There’s a smile on her face, one of sheer relief, as she hugs your arm and buries her face into your shoulder.  

“Cyrene?” the boy asks quietly and uncertain. 

You shake your head at him, before you shift your posture into something more comfortable for Cyrene. And the three of you stay like that on that lone hill in Aedes Elysiae. 

But no matter how much you wish it otherwise, a dream cannot replace reality. There is nothing that you can do that will change the course of this story, this tragedy.

Whether it is Astyanax and Hector, or the other memories buried deeper in your heart…the lives you couldn’t save are like sand in an hourglass, falling down with each second that passes. Even when you catch a single grain, it will eventually meet the same fate despite all your efforts.

Just like how Astyanax didn’t want Io to have a child, no mortal can change this world. Even survival is just extending the pain.

“Sorry…,” you whisper quietly in the silence as grief and regret threatens to strangle you. “I’m so sorry…”

Astyanax, Theo, Katherine, Ianthe, Hippocrates… everyone. But no matter how much you fervently apologize or labor over your guilt, your words will never reach them again.

You hear the whining of a dog and lift your head to see Hector bounding to you. You let the border collie snuggle into your arms. And then you see Helena. She doesn’t say anything, but simply eases herself down to sit beside you.

“...Are you alright?” she asks quietly.

You bite your bottom lip and look down at Hector. The words “I’m fine” and “I’m managing” are instinctual and almost spill from your lips, but they die quietly before they could be uttered. Instead, you only shake your head. 

“I see…,” Helena sighs forlornly.

“...Helena,” you start. “...Is anything I’m doing meaningful?”

Helena turns to you in confusion. But your eyes are not on her, but the dog who remains after his master’s passing. “Everytime…everytime I try to save someone. Everytime I keep on wishing that someone will live. Nothing I do ever changes what will happen in the end. What’s the use of it all?”

Helena purses her lips before she reaches out and places her hand on your head in comfort. “You’re young, and much more sensitive to the passing of life…”

“I know that, but I—”

“It is meaningful.”

“...”

Helena holds your gaze and imbues her words with conviction. “It is meaningful. Even the smallest change and help can make a difference, although they may not seem so for the time being.”

You don’t know what to say to that, but Helena still continues to fill the silence.

“It’s only meaningless if you give up.”

Helena sighs as she leans back, resting her head against the wall and staring up at the ceiling. “I was in this position just like you. I felt that no matter how many times I went out to save people, to give them some respite, to heal their wounds, so many of them ultimately lost their lives at the end of the day.”

She laughs bitterly. “I still feel that same way now too.”

You continue to listen to her, sensing a ‘but’ in her tale.

“Then there was you,” Helena turns to you. “I remember when me and the others first found you drifting down the Black Tide.”

“Mm,” you nod. “It was Cyrene who protected me. Or at least…I’m pretty sure it was.”

It was always Cyrene who protected you in the end. Everything always traced back to her. How would this be any different?

“Well, whoever it was,” Helena says. “You were saved, and many people including myself helped you. And here you are, a culmination of all those efforts. You may not see it yourself, but I can see how you bring comfort and help the people who need it.”

“Just like everyone who came before you, I can see how you carry their hopes, convictions, ideals, memories with you now.”

Helena strokes your hair to offer some modicum of comfort. “So yes, everything you do is meaningful, because you are also the living proof that people in the past have done something meaningful.”

You quiet, leaning into Helena’s touch as your eyes flutter shut. Even though Helena has offered this ‘comfort’ and has alleviated some of the pain in your heart, it will not change the reality. But just for a moment, you allow this guilt to melt away. 

But before you can completely shake off the negative thoughts, you hear a commotion from outside. 

You and Helena exit the building you had taken as a resting place to spot a group of refugees desperately trying to catch their breath.

“It’s Leo and the others!” the refugee gasps as he holds onto a bloodstained cloth. “They…Pheidippides died before he could finish his sentence. I don’t even know where they are?”

You and Helena finally join the group as Hector weaves in between your legs. “What happened?”

“It…It’s Io,” Lamia explains to you. She is part of the group surrounding the refugee struggling to catch his breath.

“Io?” you blink incredulously. “She shouldn’t be moving around this much! She’s pregnant.”

“It’s exactly why she went out,” Lamia shakes her head. “She said that she’s been pregnant for long enough that she needed to find supplies to get prepared for the delivery. I…I tried to stop her, but she said the others didn’t know what supplies she needed, so she had to be there herself.”

“Idiot!” Helena hisses. “Does she not already know there’s too many creatures from the Black Tide around here and that the people of Olenius are already hostile toward us?”

“Can we even find her fast enough if we split up?” you turn to Helena. Yet before Helena could answer, someone brings forth new information.

“You don’t need to waste your strength,” another refugee cuts into the conversation. “Pheidippides said something happened to Leo and died in front of him. The only person who’s MIA instead of KIA is that woman.”

“...No…”

“We search for her now,” Helena snaps you out of whatever trance, the same time Hector barks and nips at your leg. 

“Yeah, take the dog with you too,” the refugee sneers down at Hector. “He would’ve wasted our food first, if we didn’t turn him into food first anyway.”

There is shocked silence at the refugee’s audacity and tactlessness toward the circumstances as to why Hector wasn’t being taken care of by his master. But Lamia steps in, hand raised and slaps the refugee across the face.

“You—!”

“Enough,” Lamia enunciates firmly. “You may not recognize the value of life, but others do. Still your tongue and your unsightly words unless you want me to sew your lips shut.”

The refugee’s mouth clicks shut at the threat. But you have no time to mind the argument between these people.

“Lamia,” you ask her. “Where’s Io’s things? I want to let Hector sniff if and remember her smell. He’ll help us find Io.”

Lamia peels her gaze away from the refugee and nods at you. “Follow me.”

[Previous Chapter] / [Next Chapter]

[murasakinokuukyo]

Surviving Lucem made me cry so many times. Everyone's so desperate to survive and keep on fighting. They were all reaching their limit, Liv most of all. Yet, in the face of despair, she chooses to step up and make a sacrifice. Liv: Empyrea, an angel descending from the heavens, removing everyone's pain by taking it into herself, all because she loves them. The frame is completely white, lacking the pink her previous frames had, since it is an empty vessel meant to take in the virus. Liv, in her MIND, getting impaled by the punishing virus and still having enough strength to aid Lucia. I love those girls so much. Liv's empathy and all-loving nature is why she will forever be my favourite character.

[fake-ascension]

playing thru the surviving lucem like

[muraenide]

First impression of WuWa after being 1 hour in, spoiler-free:

Cons:

Mid-tier storyline. There are a lot of issues with their story-writing, such as MC halo being too strong, no wow elements, and info-dumping too early in the game.

Janky controls. I'm playing on mobile but as a PGR (kuro's other game) player, I think PGR and WuWa are so far in comparison it's difficult to believe knowing that they were created by the same company. Sometimes the buttons don't respond even though I've tapped them. Phone (12GB RAM) also heats up really fast. I think they might put optimization on low priority until later.

This is more of a personal preference but I don't really like games who shove a random female character in my face where she is instantly suspicious or doesn't like me for no particular reason (especially when we/the Rover) hasn't done anything yet. Unfortunately, this character is also the look-alike of one of my PGR wifeys so I'm sooo sad. Silently praying that she has more character development eventually.

WuWa gives me the feeling of another game with a dense female cast. An hour in and every single character I meet are girls? I have no preference of characters but when a game has an imbalance of males and females it's always the start of a slope.

I hate to be that person but I think they took too much from gen.shin. I do love Kuro as a company and I hope their game succeeds, but it's also my honest opinion that they needed more time to create their own brand and branch away from the "gen/shin clone" accusation.

Pros:

OST is amazing.

I always love Kuro's muted colours scheme. It's very good for my eyes.

Characters and animations are all really beautiful. I could visualize the theme of the game.

This has always been my opinion of Kuro ever since I started PGR 1.5 years ago. Kuro's strongest asset/brand has always been its battle mechanics. The gameplay/fighting mechanics are amazing for people who look for a challenge in these games. I feel gens/hin's fighting mechanics are overly simplistic and the easiest way to get strong characters is to c6 everyone. In PGR it's very easy to score high even as a F2P player if you have the skills. WuWa's battle mechanics are a bit complicated/confusing at first but it allows a lot of combination and the moves are also very satisfying and cool to watch. It has a lot of flexibility to pull off a series of moves that makes fighting really fun. But I can also see how it won't work for certain people.

I like how the world seems to be more futuristic rather than the overused medieval fantasy theme.

Conclusion:

It's a bit mundane/boring for now. However, PGR's early storyline is also very slow in the beginning but after I got to the back, I think braving through the front was very worth it. Especially since WuWa is partially written by the same writer who wrote the Surviving Lucem (the very first arc in PGR that really turned the tide for the game), I would still give WuWa a chance. For now, I'm not sure how well it'll do in the future but I genuinely wish for Kuro's success.

[strikehawkatyourservice]

*SPOILERS OF SURVIVING LUCEM* DO NOT READ IT IF YOU DIDNT PASS THIS CHAPTER!!!!!

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I cried SO HARD WHEN I READ THIS CHAPTER ;;-;;

Specially for this.

You know? It's good that they dedicated all a chapter for Liv's development. BUT IT WAS SO HARD ;;-;; All the way I was crying and wanted to hug her and tell her "it's okay" (like if that's gonna work....) But when THIS happened I couldn't hold myself. I know they wouldn't die here but it stills hurt. I had to make a huge stop to recompose.....

[dead-mistral-bot]

kept thinking that the lines sounded familiar . ...after all, he's already said them once in survival lucem

[moka-tau]

I was thinking of starting the Lostbelt arc yesterday because well, it was april fools.

But I remembered PGR dropped today Shaper's Ripples which contains one of the most depressing chapters since Surviving Lucem (according to the fanbase at least, I haven't read it yet as of writing that post)

And you know, I wanted to see my two favorite MC’s (the Gray Raven commandant and Ritsuka Fujimaru) suffer together along with me as I read the chapters. No one gets left behind.

[orangemoonxworks]

KINGDOM HEARTS: DIVERGE, VOL. 0 MARCH OF THE FOOLS, PART I — II WRITTEN BY: Naude Lucem -------------------------------------------------

Seven months later.

There were three bell towers that stood in Union Cross’s campus and upon the arrival of noon they’d rang out simultaneously. Even though they weren’t particularly loud they could still be heard throughout the vast campus that was the Seventh District. Union Cross was a haven for the students – many who aspired to become Guardians. As such, it was always busy. The Fountain of Knowledge, a large circular stone fountain surrounded by buildings, food stalls, and shops was a central hub of respite. Aside from being a symbol for the academy, the fountain was little more than a bench for the students.

“Finally! We’re done!” said Amica, a tomboyish girl with messy dark scarlet hair and eyes to match. She laid flat along the fountain rim, stretching long enough for her joints to crack, then groaned in relief. “My brain is so drained right now. I could pass out.”

“Hmm. Our lectures did run a bit long today.” This was Nos, the person sitting beside her. They were slightly taller, caramel colored hair, and eyes as blue as a clear sky.

“A bit? Today was a huge slog! Sitting through one long boring lecture after the other made me want to gouge my ears out.” She yawned, letting her arm dangle lifelessly off the edge. “My eye lids feel like dumbbells. I just wanna sleep.”

“You think hearing you whine all day was music to my ears?”

“That’s funny coming from you, ‘O silent one.” Amica said mockingly. “I’m probably the only person here who’s ever heard you speak. People think you’re a mute, you know.”

“That’s not true. And I’m not a mute.”

“Right, right. You’re just being cautious or whatever. Pfft! I think you’re afraid of people. Doesn’t matter to me though. I like being the only one who gets to hear your sweet, majestic voice.” Amica teased again, though they didn’t respond this time. She lifted her head to see them then grinned. “Oh ho-ho, is that red I see? Go on, say something. My ears are ready for pleasure.”

Nos sighed. “Cut it out.”

“Anyway, it feels good to be outside. Cool breeze, the sky’s blue, and the sun’s shining. I could close my eyes, spread my arms, and drift into the wind. Let it take me wherever.”

“Like a leaf, huh.” Nos replied.

“Yep. Light as can be and one with the wind. Free from the crappy burdens of life.”

The thought of such an experience intrigued Nos. Unfortunately, as soon as they began to imagine, reality crashed down and spoiled it all. They let out a sigh of disappointment. “If only it was that simple. I wouldn’t mind being carried by the wind. Probably feels nice.”

As the two carried on, a group of Guardians dressed in white uniforms began patrolling the area. It wasn’t unusual to see them walking around but these Guardians were from the Lux Unitas, a special force under direct order of the Grandmasters. Given the jagged fox symbol imprinted on the backs of their jackets, they were from the Vulpes Union. Nos watched as they strolled around the fountain. A few of them had their keyblades at their side, and one with it sitting over their shoulder.

“I wonder why the Lux Unitas have been patrolling the campus lately.”

“Probably because of the shadow scourges.” Amica replied, now lying on her side, face resting on her stretched arm. “They’ve been popping up more and more lately. Remember the one that totally destroyed the Second district? Everything fell to ruin, and nobody survived. I heard it’s still being quarantined until the Lux Unitas can get rid of the darkness there.”

“There’s still darkness after all this time? Do you think they can get rid of it all?”

“Doubt it. Even if they could somehow get rid of it all, that district is too far gone. It’d take years, hell, even decades to rebuild. Besides, they’re more likely worried about the next scourge.”

“Next one, huh.” Nos’s eyes followed the two Guardians who passed them. As they thought about the inevitable coming of another scourge, a sense of dread and worry crept onto them. “I wonder what’s going on. Everything was fine up until a year ago. What changed?”

“Beats me.” Amica replied.

“We’re still working towards becoming Guardians, but we have no real experience with darkness. There’s a huge difference between fighting shadows in a simulation and fighting them for real. Most of us would choke if we ever came face to face with the real thing. It’s hard to think about being in that situation.”

“Nothing we can do but try to survive.” Amica said. “No use in crying at that point. Whoever wants to fight will fight, and whoever doesn’t will run away. Honestly, I’d probably be one of the people running for their lives. Fighting sucks.”

“You wouldn’t do that.”

“You don’t know me well then.” She rolled over on her back again. “Believe it or not, I’m the world’s biggest coward. Any sign of danger and I’m heading straight for the hills and not looking back. Better to live than die trying, right?”

“Be serious for once.”

“I am. Becoming a Guardian isn’t what I want – it’s just all there is. We’re taught from the moment we’re born that being a Guardian is the end-all-be-all. And for most people, it is. Almost everyone dreams about being a hero so they can live out fantasies or protect whatever they love. But for the people who just want to live, all we can do is chase other people’s dreams. What we want doesn’t matter.”

She continued, a pitied smile on her face. “Sounds messed up, doesn’t it? Nothing to be sad about though. We all have our roles to play in this parade. Some people just get the shorter end of the stick.”

“I…didn’t know you felt the way.”

“Eh. Guardian or not,” she sat upright then pivoted herself so her legs could hang off the fountain’s edge. “I’m going to live my life the way I want. You should too. Life would totally suck if you just go with the flow and not try to be whoever you want to be.”

“Sure, but I don’t know who I’d want to be? Almost everyone in the Lux Unitas is special. They all have something that sets them apart. As for me, I can’t say that I’m special in any shape or form, so being myself is out of the question.”

“You’re selling yourself short as always. You don’t have to be special to be somebody, you goober. Just be true to yourself. Besides I like you just the way you are.” Amica grinned then poked her finger into the side of their cheek. “And don’t go getting all strawberry faced. You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I know. Now stop poking me! The edge of your nail feels like a razor blade!”

“Anyway,” she said, having stopped. She pushed herself off the fountain then raised both her arms up as if she were cheering, letting out a relieved grunt. “Enough of the gloomy talk. We’ve got the rest of the afternoon to ourselves, no? Let’s hit up some of the food stalls for some grub. And maybe we can cop a treat or two on the side.”

Nos smirked. “Uh huh. You just want an excuse to go to the shop that sells the star-shaped fruit.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let’s go!”

Amica snatched Nos’s arm, yanking them up from the fountain and almost causing them to trip over themselves, then pulled Nos along with her. -------------------------------------------------

[xaracosmia]

ꕥ — WELCOME TO EXO COSMIA, NANAMI. 🌑

ꕥ  — OOC INFORMATION;

name / alias: Valkyrie age: 23 pronouns: she/her ooc contact: @Eins_wing on Twitter/ @annoyingflyinthing on Tumblr triggers:  other characters in xc: N/A

ꕥ  — IC INFORMATION;

name: “Nanami” age: Unclear, approximately 22ish pronouns: she/her series: Punishing Gray Raven canon point: Post “The Surviving Lucem” app triggers: Death of Self, Apocalyptic setting, Viruses, Religious undertones

personality: If Chaos was ever given a succinct definition it would be Nanami. An intensely curious sort, Nanami will stop at nothing to learn every little thing she can about humans and their culture. She also has very little understanding of those human social norms, owing to her isolation from human settlements for the better part of a decade. She’s also liable to make friends with nearly everything and anyone who can deal with her antics, sometimes unwillingly worming into their good graces.

something your muse struggles with: Knowing when to stop being a chaotic gremlin.

your muse’s greatest strength: The will to face life and many many futures and choose to keep going until her favorite creatures and her fellow Awakened machines can live in harmony.

history / background:

Before the Punishing Virus, Nanami was an experiment in AI research, a mechanoid with close to human level intelligence was inserted into a “normal” life. Given the tools to slowly gain her own consciousness and awareness and left to develop. For years, she didn’t even know she was an AI, believing her parents utterly.until she was wounded by an attack by corrupted. Wandering the streets with exposed circuitry, she was mistaken for a corrupted herself, even as she desperately tried to protect her evacuating family.

  When the dust settled, Nanami found herself alone on Earth. Promising her adoptive family she’d remain safe, she began wandering the desolate wasteland that was once humanity’s home with a new perspective on life. Not as a machine, nor a human… Something else entirely. From here, she gained an appreciation for human culture, often “borrowing” leftover media that wasn’t taken in the great evacuation. Finding many strange mechanoids much like herself in the ruins of the Golden Age.

She began occasionally meeting Babylonian squads in her travels, mostly interfering to save these other strange machines, unintentionally managing to get a name for herself amongst them all “Sagemachina.” Messiah of the Church of Machina or the Fool, depending on who you ask. She wandered the globe, awakening more and more machines to their own minds, amassing a religion she’s utterly unaware of beyond having so many “friends”.

  She’s even lucky enough to be able to call the Gray Raven squad friends, intervening when the Red Tide grew too much for Babylonia to handle. She wasn’t much help on the grand scheme of things, but Nanami and her various mechanoid friends managed to save a surprisingly large number of humans from the approaching Punishing Virus and Red Tide.

powers / abilities:

Sagemachina - As the Sagemachina, the first awakened mechanoid, Nanami has the ability to awaken other machines via murals and direct interfacing. This will grant the machine intelligence and outright sentience if they’ve got a powerful enough CPU, these Awakened Machines tend to follow Nanami, rapidly organizing as her “friends” or the Church of Machina.

inherent abilities: 

Construct - Nanami is a construct, a humanoid machine built from Tanteum-125. This grants her the basic abilities of increased strength, reflexes and durability when compared to a human as well as an entirely mechanical body. MAking healing more a matter of repairing her various parts.

Mechanical Savant - She’s also the only character in the setting who was able to create her own Construct frame from scratch, even working with the very little supplies left on earth’s surface. If it was needed, Nanami could easily build herself more frames or even frames for other people. Though actually moving someone into a construct body would require someone medically trained as a surgeon. In addition, she’s interested in various mecha ideas and has been working on a plan for a mini mecha of her own named “Power.”

items / weapons:

Frame “Pulse” - The Construct frame “Pulse”, is an improvement on her original frame, now with wheels at her heels and the ability to overclock herself to use the heat she generates as a weapon. As with most construct frames, it’s much stronger and more durable than the average human, with extra attention paid to the durability, as repairing this frame would take away time to find more friends. Also to play even more games at once, but Nanami won’t tell anyone else that.

Chainsaw - Nanami’s weapon of choice is a chainsaw. Specifically, a hydraulic saw with various accelerating chains. Various special chemicals and reagents along the blade aid in her use of fire by easing it’s spread. Also, it can explode. Because Nanami thought it would be cool to have an exploding chainsaw.

starting ability: Sagemachina

starting item: Frame “Pulse”

discord id: .sagemachina

[toastthewolfie]

Cradle parade mentally wrecked me (same deal as surviving lucem tbh) so i redrew my skk oc aries (he’s not very in line with canon skk but who cares)

[descendedgaia]

𝕭𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖊𝖗 𝖔𝖋 𝕱𝖑𝖆𝖒𝖊𝖘

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 5

phainon x gn!reader wc: 3.57k tw: angst, death, martyrdom, apocalypse, hope v despair, trauma Story Elements taken from Punishing: Gray Raven, The Surviving Lucem Masterlist ☲IN which you are not a Chrysos Heir or a Titan, but a human being who struggles and shall bring the story of the Flame Chasers the grand and spectacular ending it deserves. Previous Chapter

── .✦·········────

“Cyrene? Cyrene? Where are you? This isn’t funny anymore!” 

“Cyrene?” the white-haired boy calls out as well. “I’m sorry for losing my sword all the time but please just come out! I’ll be better, I promise!” 

“You better!” you snap at him, nerves frayed because where the hell could’ve Cyrene gone? “If it weren’t for you and your stupid need to wave your sword like a maniac all day long at the fairies, we wouldn’t be here in the first place!” 

The boy is taken aback, expression creasing in anger. But his eyes water because he knows that you’re right. If it weren’t for him losing his sword as constantly as he did, then they wouldn’t be in this mess desperately searching for their mutual friend. 

He sniffles noisily, lips rebelliously twisted to keep any sound from coming out as he wipes at his eyes. But you hear the sniffles anyway. 

“Are you crying right now?” you stare at him incredulously.

“No!” his voice wavers so obviously, tone full of tears. “I’m not crying!” 

You sigh because you really don’t want to deal with this, but if Cyrene heard about this then you were going to get her disapproving look for days afterward. That’s not something you want to go through. Yet at the same time, you can’t really find it in yourself to console this boy because the idiot dragged you out here like this in the first place. 

The command to “suck it up” sits temptingly at your tongue, but you think for the better for it. “Alright, since yelling isn’t going to get us anywhere, we’re changing plans. You play with, fight with, deal with—whatever, you do something with the fairies. Do you have any idea where to start looking for them?” 

The boy presses his lips together. “Maybe the heart of the forest? That’s where I usually find all of the fairies.” 

“And pick fights with them?” you snark before you sigh. “...Sorry. But that’s where we want to look first?” 

He nods quietly and you can’t help the second sigh that expels from your lungs. Him being so small and teary is so unlike him. It kind of makes you feel a bit bad. So you reach out, grab his hand, and pull him along.  

“Where’s the heart of the forest?” you ask him, a little softer than how you usually talk to him. 

“Uh…,” the boy stammers, taken aback by the sudden contact. You raise an eyebrow at him patiently before he points in the general direction. “That way.” 

“Alright, let’s go,” you tell him. “Keep up.” 

The dream ends abruptly when you startle awake at the sound of someone desperately battering their fists against the barn door. Several people stir awake from the sound, spooked as they gather their things in some semblance of an attempt to protect and brace themselves for what is to come.

You rush to the door just as Priam nears it. You pull open the heavy barn door just a bit for you to peek through, and you’re greeted with the sight of several people huddled together against the rain. A man is holding a child covered in blood and a woman holding another woman who has much of her right side covered and marred with the Black Tide.

“Shit,” Priam curses. He doesn’t question the newcomers, seeing the situation to be as dire as it looks, and wrenches the barn door open.

“Bring them here,” you tell them urgently. “We need to get to the medical cots.”

“Clear the way!” Priam yells at the refugees inside the barn and they immediately move, making haste to make a direct path to the medical cots. 

You sprint the vanguard of this emergency procession, to the medical cots and wrench one of the curtains aside. You hesitate because the realization that there are no available medical cots dawns on you and—

“I have my own fold-up cot,” Astyanax gets up from his medical cot. He gently nudges Hector off the mattress and stands aside. Patroclus grumbles, but he also gets up as well, leaving room for the man to rush in with the child in his arms. 

A second later the young woman follows suit and lays down the elder one. 

“Astyanax, can you give me the pouch of Empyros Lily seeds?” you ask quietly, but urgently. “It should be in that open crate over there.”

Helena comes to your side a beat later, eyes knit in worry and determination. She looks you in the eyes to assure you of her presence and her help. “What do you need?”

“Make sure that Black Tide is being purged from her body,” you tell her quickly as you look over the child who’s bleeding and sobbing softly into the mattress. “I’ll have to take care of the child here.”

“Got it,” Helena nods.

“Here it is,” Astyanax offers the pouch to Helena. She nods silently in thanks, kneeling by the woman’s side and gently coaxing her to chew on the Empyros Lily seed.

“Does he have any allergies or anything else I need to note?” you ask the man who brought in the child.

“Uh…I don’t know,” he shakes his head. He turns to a pregnant woman who hobbles in and stands next to him. “Do you?”

“No,” she shakes her head. Her expression is one of concern, a hand cupping the bottom of her belly. “I don’t know either.”

“That’s fine,” you shake your head. “I’ll give him an evaluation before I give him an Empyros Lily seed.”

Gingerly, you peel the shirt off his back and cut through the cloth to expose his wound. You quietly shush the child quietly sobbing as you inspect the wound on his back. It’s a stab wound, but thankfully not over anything critical or life-threatening but he has lost a lot of blood. 

“Thank you,” the pregnant lady murmurs in horror, eyes glued to the child’s wound.

“I need to stop the bleeding,” you report. “How was he injured?”

“He was stabbed by one of those creatures from the Black Tide,” the man tells you. “I’m not sure how though. I wasn’t with him at the time.”

“Helena.”

“Here.”

You don’t need to say more before Helena hands you an Empyros Lily seed. You bring the seed to the boy’s lip and tell him to chew on it. 

“What has he eaten in the past few days?” you continue interrogating the two of them.

“I don’t know,” the man shakes his head helplessly. “He said he hadn’t found any food for the past few days and was starving last night, so he wanted a pack of my biscuits.”

Astyanax and Patroclus stiffen, staring pointedly at the man’s bag which is obviously full of supplies.

“After eating it,” the man continues his explanation. “He said he wanted to set out for the next village and look for supplies.”

“What about her then?” Helena motions to the woman that she’s tending to. The young girl who carried her pipes up to answer.

“My mother saw that he was missing and went out to find him and bring him back. But the Black Tide rushed in before we could anticipate it and she barely managed to push him out of the way.”

The girl’s mother suddenly lurches, gagging violently before throwing up. Helena catches it in time with a bucket, bile and gunk from the Black Tide being expelled from her lips. The daughter’s hands fly up to her lips in horror, eyes wide in fear.

“She’ll be alright,” Helena assures her. “It just means that the Empyros Lily seed is working and we’re flushing out poison from the Black Tide. She might have permanent scars or injuries after this though.”

The daughter nods quietly, lips pursed delicately, but a hopeless sort of hope shining in her eyes.

“I need thread and a needle,” you call out and Priam runs over with the materials you need. You tie a small knot at the end of the string and get to work stitching up the boy’s wound. Thankfully, with the painkiller effect of the Empyros Lily seed, he isn’t suffering too much, but he still seizes and sobs quietly at the pain of the needle poking through his flesh. While you’re busy tending to this child, Astyanax speaks up.

“...Why?”

He stares at both the man and the pregnant woman, eyes flickering with scorn so contrary to his earlier modesty. “Why would you let him go alone? Your backpack is obviously full of supplies. Why would you let a child risk his life?”

The two of them startle at the accusation. The man blinks, brow knitting in defensiveness. “Kid, we were—”

“Sorry,” the pregnant woman cuts in. She places a hand on the man’s shoulder to stop him. “It’s because of me. I’m pregnant and sprained my ankle so I can’t walk that fast. That child wanted to go out ahead of us so he left early…I never thought he would…”

She trails off, eyes growing glassy and brimming with tears. She stares down at the child you’re working on to suture his wounds. 

Astyanax stares at the same boy. He slumps against the wall, sliding down until he’s sitting with his legs loosely crossed. Hector, sensing Astyanax’s plummeting mood, whines as he butts his head against Astyanax’s arms and buries himself into his owner’s chest.

“Then why…get pregnant?”

His voice is quiet but imbued with a depthless resentment.

“What’d you say?” the man blinks, astounded by Astyanax’s audacity.

“Since you obviously can’t raise him, why have another child?!” Astyanax roars. 

The woman takes a step back, lips parting in surprise. She didn’t expect such a question to be leveled at her, especially by a young boy like Astyanax. She tries to say something, but she closes her lips, eyes averted to the ground in shame. 

“He’s lucky you found him and brought him to such a kind doctor,” Astyanax jerks his head to you. “But what in the future? He’s going to be just like me…or worse.”

Hector whines audibly against Astyanax’s chest and Astyanax sub-consciously raises a hand and holds Hector close. 

“...Why do you say that?” the man beside the woman asks.

“Why?” Astyanax tilts his head, voice cold and teeth gritted. “Because my parents were just like you. They had me without thinking about the future. As soon as they couldn’t raise me, they just kicked me to the side of the road.”

“Without thinking about the future?” the woman repeats in disbelief.

“Exactly. You know what I’m talking about,” Astyanax hisses. “Refugees and other camps give preferential treatment to expecting parents and those with children.”

The woman doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t deny Astyanax’s claim.

“I know they have good intentions…but some people like to take advantage of this. Just like my parents. They just used those good intentions for their own benefit without considering the future.”

He huffs, trying desperately and failing to hold his wits in the tsunami of his anger, despair, and pain. “After my mom was pregnant, they were given special treatment at refugee camps, where they had me and my brother. When I was two years old, my dad gave me to another family for a bowl of porridge. My adoptive father turned out to be just like him too. He was just freeloading off the sympathy of others and used me to get supplies from the refugee camps.”

Tears gather in Astyanax’s eyes and roll over his cheeks as he begins to sob. “But no matter which ‘parents’ I was with, they would only give me scraps. Once I got bigger and lost this privilege, they just threw me by the roadside like those empty cans they finished eating.”

Silence falls upon the group save for the pained moans and cries of the suffering. 

The pregnant woman is also crying silently at Astyanax’s story. Her voice trembles, wavering with horror and her sympathies. “...How could they do such a thing?”

The refugees in the barn, the ones close enough to hear Astyanax’s outburst, murmur amongst each other. 

“I’ve heard of people doing that. Refugees just want children to survive, but who would’ve thought there’d be bastards like them?” 

“How are they bastards? Without them, who would dare to have children in a world like this?” 

“They don’t look into who the child belongs to and just give out supplies.” 

“How can they? Can you guarantee that you’ll be alive tomorrow? If someone’s alive to take care of a child, that’s all that matters.” 

“Have you ever thought about it?” Patroclus speaks up. He rallies behind Astyanax’s anger, standing tall even though he’s leaning on his cane. Because he also intimately knows the weight of Astyanax’s revealed pain and suffering. “How can abandoned children survive on the side of the road? Being a burden on others, banished from refugee camps, and cursed at…”

“So why?” Astyanax glares at the pregnant woman despite his tears. “As a parent, why would you want to have a child if you can’t take care of them? Are you just looking for short-term benefits? Or is it because you don’t care about your child’s future?”

The woman in question can only hang her head in silence, unable to come up with an answer in the face of their scorn. 

The man coughs, lips twisting in sympathy. “I’m sorry. I know this isn’t an answer, but…I’m not the child’s father. And, of course, she isn’t his mother. Her husband and I used to be merchants…Our profession is much more dangerous now, but some of us are willing to take the risk. Half of the supplies belonged to her husband…and I can’t go eating someone else’s food, now can I?”

Astyanax’s eyes widen. He deflates, the anger leaving him so suddenly at the unexpected answer. “Oh…sorry, I didn’t realize…I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have misjudged you and spoken out of turn.”

“It’s okay,” the pregnant woman shakes her head. “It really is a serious issue. We aren’t his parents, but I heard him say that he had a similar experience as your own. His biological parents died in an accident two years ago when he was only eight years old.”

She presses a delicate hand to her belly. “None of us can be sure that we’ll live to see tomorrow in this cruel world, let alone stay together with our children. And of course, we can’t guarantee a safe upbringing for our children.”

“Okay…,” Astyanax sighs quietly. The woman hesitates. Her fingers wring and tangle together in uncertainty before she steps forward. She walks over to Astyanax and sits down, patting him on the back, and rubs Hector’s head.

“It’s so hard for children to even just stay alive when they’re separated from their parents at a young age,” she murmurs. Her eyes are sad as she tries to give Astyanax as much comfort as she can. “I’ll consider what you said carefully and be sure to make the right decision.”

“...Okay.”

“That’s enough,” Helena speaks up, finally bringing her insight to the table to quell the conversation and argument from going on any longer. “It’s quite obvious, isn’t it? If you have a child, you should raise them. Everyone is faced with hardship in this world in this cruel world. We’re all equal here.”

“I’m sorry,” Astyanax mumbles.

“No need to apologize,” the pregnant woman shakes her head. “The world is full of injustice. We’re all struggling with the same adversities, but some people are armed and some people can move freely. Others…carry lives yet to be born and others are forced to run before they can walk. It’s amazing if you can survive in this world and save another life.”

You finish sewing up the crying child’s wounds before wrapping him up in a blanket to warm his body. The atmosphere is depressed and you close your eyes and let out a quiet sigh, a flash of more blissful days passes your eyes. But that is in the past, and the grim reality is the present you are in. No matter the side of the debate, each had their own reasons.

“Astyanax,” you call out to him quietly. “I know what you’re worried about. The arrival of new life should be a joyful thing, but we don’t want to give each other a burden beyond our means.”

That’s something you know is along the lines of what Cyrene would say. And your heart aches fiercely for her. Because maybe she would put it in more eloquent words that quell the despair more thoroughly. But she’s not here. You are, and you are the one who can step up to at least warm the embers of hope by the hearth.

“Even still, this difficulty can be rewarding,” you say softly. “By that, I don’t mean getting more supplies or receiving preferential treatment, but hope and dependence.”

You smile softly and motion in Hector’s direction. “Did you choose to take care of Hector because you think he’ll help you get supplies?”

“No,” Astyanax shakes his head.

“But by doing so, your life has become more difficult and has made your food more scarce,” you continue your explanation. “But as you said, he gives your life meaning and motivation. That’s why you made that choice…right?”

“Yeah…”

Astyanax turns to the woman beside him apologetically. Seeing the remorse on his expression, your smile becomes more soft, more gentle. You also turn to the woman beside him and pose the question for Astyanax’s sake.

“Well then…how do you view your child?”

The pregnant woman doesn’t speak, only looking down at her belly in silent contemplation. But one of the refugees in the barn pipes up, joining the conversation.

“You should still have the baby,” the refugee says. “We’re barely making it through each day and we don’t have enough to eat, but it’s also sad to see someone die. If there are only a few living people left on this land, what good are more supplies? This world won’t be so lonely with more lives around.”

“Yeah! I agree!” another refugee joins in excitably, clapping his hands together. “Whether it’s a person or a dog, you need to protect them as their mom! You can’t be so quick to give up…”

The way his earlier words sounded catches up to the refugee and he cringes. “...Actually, never mind. Ugh, there I go running my mouth again.”

It sends soft laughter rippling up the multitudes of people and the refugee rubs the nape of his neck sheepishly. “Sorry, I’ve never been too good at talking with others.”

Priam clears his throat. “Well, since we’re all more or less situated, let’s change the subject. What’s your name? Where did you come from? How’s the situation outside?”

“Take your time,” you add to Priam’s words. “You don’t need to answer all the questions all at once.”

That elicits a few more barks of laughter and an embarrassed blush on Priam’s part.

“I’m Io,” the pregnant woman introduces herself. “I’m from Icatus. I was originally going to head for Janusopolis, but there were a few problems along the way so I joined the Tempest Troupe.”

At the mention of the Tempest Troupe, the daughter who was at her mother’s bedside stands up. Her expression is slack in surprise but she quickly recovers, gracefully smiling. She daintily pinches her skirt and curtsies. “Hello, I’m Iris. I am the lead musician for the Tempest Troupe. We were originally from Stymphalia, but we were forced to relocate because of the Black Tide. Ever since then, we’ve been traveling the lands helping out however we can.”

She then motions to her mother who’s resting on the cot after throwing up most, if not all, of the Black Tide’s poison. “This is my mother, Lamia.”

“I’m Argus,” the man who accompanied Io greets everyone. “And the child is Jason.”

The rest of the Tempest Troupe introduces themselves after Iris and then Priam asks another question.

“What of the cities south from here? Icatus was south, as well as Handak and Olenius.”

“Last we heard, they were also swallowed up by the Black Tide, and the people there were forced to evacuate,” Iris dutifully answers. “We came up here hoping Aidonia would be able to accept us, but we ended up detouring here instead.”

“Aidonia is cut off from the rest of the world,” Priam massages his brows. “The way there through the Hesperides Mountain Range is cut off by the Black Tide.”

Iris falters, falling silent. Murmurs begin to race up and down the crowd of refugees.

“If all the cities in the south are being swallowed up by the Black Tide then we should hurry up and evacuate ASAP!”

“But where would we even evacuate to?”

“Everyone,” Helena raises her voice. “Please calm down. We’re already thinking about plans on where to evacuate next.”

She nods to Priam. “There are discussions about going to the Eternal Holy City Okhema. But we’ll need to scout and survey the lands so that we can map out the fastest route there.”

That seems to pacify the crowd to some extent. You sigh quietly, gently looking after Iris’s mother, Lamia. It would be a long day for you, looking after the two patients and tending to them. But hopefully, with the promise and plans of Okhema as the next destination in sight, perhaps things would start looking up.

[Previous Chapter] / [Next Chapter]

[murasakinokuukyo]

I wanna give the Unidentified Twins some attention. Lore-wise, I love them. Their introduction was a turning point in the story of how far the punishing virus would evolve to destroy humanity. After reading Evernight Beat's hidden story, the first things the twins say upon being born get creepier in hindsight. They were huge menaces during Surviving Lucem, though you do get a reminder of how childlike they still are when they comfort each other after sustaining damage from the omega prototype. Their boss fight is very fun in that it even incorporated their lore of them constantly learning and adapting. I swear, when they used the matrix mechanic against me, I panicked but also thought it was awesome. They're still one of my favourite boss fights, up there with Lamia and Primal Projection, because I'm always on my toes getting the timing right.

Design-wise, they are super cool. As a product of the virus, the twins look uncannily beautiful with certain features that just emphasis their inhuman nature. The male's black sclerae and larger, more muscular right arm. The organic bow on the female's left arm, the blades on her calves, and whatever is going on with her hair - it's like a manta ray(?) which fits considering a previous evolution of the virus was the Red Tide. Hetero-Humanoid: Chiko has similar hair. You can also notice a subtle development in their characters. Their initial portraits in Evernight Beat had them look very emotionless and detached; afterwards, the male twin has a smirk on his face, like his pre-fight intro, and the female twin has livelier eyes.

[lunaefall]

I really love the symbolism in Liv's Empyrea outfit with her resembling an angel sent to help humanity and provide a sense of hope.

They even put the imagery with her descending from the skies towards a church, with the setting shrouded in darkness while Liv is the embodiment of the light shining in the skies, and it looks like she's radiating it to provide a sense of hope and salvation.

But then you look into her eyes, and their pink colour is gone. And they match the white of the rest of the outfit, but in contrast, they look lifeless and like a far cry from the sense of hope the rest of the outfit brings, pretty much reflecting the hidden struggles and the consequences of Liv using this frame at her own expense.

In many traditions, eyes are said to be windows to the soul. And in Liv's soul, there's just pain, sadness and torment now.

[muraenide]

Name/Alias: Joan/Light/Dust Bunny Bonus Fun fact: I used Light for a really long time since 2019, but at that time there was another Light mun who was from the KnB (?) fandom and who was quite popular. I got a horde of people following me and mistaking me for that other mun until I had to change my alias to Joan.

Age group: 25+

Pronouns: She/her

Favorite color: wine red, deep purple/velvet, silky black.

Favorite food: Bread. Cheese. Zucchini. Mushrooms.

Tattoos/piercings?: Two earlobe piercings and one helix.

Current song stuck in your head?: The Survival Lucem No one will understand why I'm crying over this song except for one person.

Pets?: One hamster!

Favorite book?: The Silmarillion forever. The Guardians of Ga'Hoole where most of my random knowledge of birds, especially owls, came from. About to read Good Omens soon.

Do you have a 'prized possession'?: This might be a bit odd, but my late grandma's birth certificate. She's a citizen of Old Thailand, Siam. It's something I don't usually tell anyone since I don't know how to read or speak Thai, but I appreciate my mom for preserving the bit of family history and passing it to me for safekeeping.

Dream job: Honestly I have no preference for jobs as long as it pays the bills, I can/will do anything.

Tea or coffee?: Both!

Hobbies: Working. Uh... working on it. Writing. Crying about blorbos. Watching tv series and movies. I enjoy camping and swimming and diving, but those hobbies are less flexible.

How long have you been role-playing?: Since I was 18, so around 8 years by now? If you don't count the time I wasn't on Tumblr, maybe 4 or 5.

Who is your most active muse: Jade.

Significance behind your url?: It's the scientific name for moray eel because I am lame. u_u