#the gilded

[the-gilded]

The night has just begun...

The Gilded Demo v1.1 is out now!

So far...

Your younger brother, Leo, went missing three days ago. Your parents called the police, and they started investigating quickly. They were too late. Leo had already disappeared into the deepest part of the forest, where the mortals have vowed never to return. The police have offered to contact your family if Leo crosses the barrier back to the mortal side, but their investigation can’t go any further without inviting the wrath of the Fae.

The winter solstice is approaching fast, which means that the High Fae are likely gathering mortal children for their great feast. The only way to get your brother back is to follow him into the forest and steal him back from the palace of the High Fae… If you can get there in one piece. The Fae forest is full of tricksters and killers, and you'll likely need some allies to help get you both back home.

A customizable main character. Choose your gender, name, appearance, skills, and more.

v 1.1 Features:

Word Count Approx. 70k

Stat building. Choose starting stats, and improve your skills throughout the game for fights and problem solving.

Romance. Meet the first two of four romanceable characters, and make a lasting impression.

Exploration. Make your way through the forest one step at a time; backtrack to previous locations and revisit them to discover the secrets they hold.

Planned Updates:

v1.2: Bug fixes, mobile layout improvements (I hope)

[matriaeon]

I'M HERE, NOW WHAT?

WE'RE ONLY GODS TO THEM (island universe, cosmic sand) is a masturbatory parody involving my original characters/world/story called "we're only gods to them" (not real only exists in my mind palace) and the general premise of the legend of zelda specifically the stories breath of the wild (2017) and tears of the kingdom (2023). by general premise however i mean i'm too lazy to name shit and i liked the worldbuilding concepts like the triforce, ganon and hylia but the actual plot and explored topics/characterizations are a lot more convoluted and ridiculous as i intended.

it's something i've been slowly building up and working the kinks out of since 2019. i cannot emphasize enough how insanely self indulgent this is. from how much i love the creativity on display to make a video game enjoyable to a wide ranging audience to how awful both the loz franchise and nintendo are. first and foremost, it's an Intellectual Property that is used to Gain Profit. loz and breath of the wild notably leans hard into the pro-monarchy divine right to rule narrative. it's racist. however, it is also for children. it's a fantasy story about good vs. evil.

with that being said, imagine such a simple stupid world could curse itself into oblivion. the myth can no longer regenerate itself anew, a divine disgorgement that created new roles, unnecessary extras, a natural mutilation. in the midst of that waning power, after the world failed to save itself, but did not yet die, every finger in that pie thought now was their chance to dig. to fight. there would be a new world, but only if the right hero could revolutionize it.

TAG SYSTEM (CLICK ON THIS POST'S TAGS): the mother's failure - living myth, the world's creation and its destruction, the continental womb (worldbuilding) the gilded - the lady of the land, the lady of the living, and the lady of the law; and all of their creations (NPCs and misc.) the stillborn - and all of her descendants; the youngest of the goddesses who cradle the spirit of the world; ancestor of the royal family, whose mastery over time and light is a miracle passed down to every firstborn daughter (the fourth hero) the leper - and all of his descendants; an ancient king of the world; a stunted cataclysm 1 - the first hero, Mara Halon 2 - the second hero, Gavrel Link Hanoka 3 - the third hero, Benji Kakoka TO BE EXPANDED UPON POSSIBLY MAYBE IF I NEED TO

[thekeatoncadet]

Wooo some pics for the OCtober prompt 'enemies working together'. This one got a bit out of hand lol

[dcvina-claires]

i am a tragedy enjoyer before i am human

[thewritenerd]

NaNoWriMo: Day 20

Story: The Gilded Throne

Word Count: 1848

Total page count: 57

Best Line(s):

"Putting the telescope to his eyes he could hardly hold in a gasp as the church steeple in the far distance now seemed so close she could almost convince herself she could reach out and touch it. Despite everything Lowhan couldn’t help it as a grin spread across her face. He watched as a crow perched on the bell-tower and began to preen itself. Only to fly off again when the bells started ringing. Though she couldn’t hear the bird Lowhan could see its beak move and could imagine the indignant caw at being so rudely interrupted."

[mademoisellegush]

Shoves this in the gortash tag.

[fashionsfromhistory]

Riding Ensemble

c.1896

United States

The MET (Accession Number: 2009.300.640a–g)

[nightwingcouldyounot]

No comment.

(Gotham Knights Gilded City 002)

[awardswatcherik]

Trailer and First Look Images from Season Two of HBO's 'The Gilded Age' Returning in October

[lionofchaeronea]

Elizabeth Winthrop Chanler (Mrs. John Jay Chapman), John Singer Sargent, 1893

[the-gilded]

I love the gilded so much! I just reread it and aaaaaaaaaa. This game has a chokehold on me and my brain space. I love Ayre, give me slow burns give me angst.

Hey! Thank you for your message, I was so happy to see it. 💜

I'm really looking forward to diving into more of Ayre's particularly angsty storyline with the new Camp chat scenes in the next update. Theirs & Jolenn's take a little longer to develop because they're tied pretty closely with the central plot, but I think that just makes it tastier. 💜💜

In other news, I'm working on getting the update out as soon as I can. I wanted it to come out in spring, but things have not gone well in my life recently! They're still not going well, tbh.

For you, anon, and the others reading this: A little preview of the updated character arts I'm working on for the Chapter 2 launch.

M & F versions of Nex and Wren will be posted with the Chapter 2 update announcement, and then updated Ayre and Jolenn will follow when I finish them.

Wren got a bigger appearance update than I think anyone else did... I decided to change their hairstyle to something that matches their personality a bit better, and I expanded their wardrobe to get away from just drawing them exclusively in flannels.

The full(-ish) body versions of these will be included with the Chapter 2 update. 💜

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Guardian Angel

CW: Stalking, people breaking into your apartment (Arkham Knight and others), people brushing off an obvious issue, and violence. Be warned, there are no angels in Gotham. ~2.2k words

You have a stalker. Probably. Maybe. If you do, they're so good at covering their tracks that you're starting to believe you're just paranoid.

But it's the odd events, the trinkets moved slightly out of place, that have you checking over your shoulder.

There wasn't even any evidence at first. Your day had been completely normal. All you were doing was cooking dinner, when your nerves went on end, and goosebumps rose on your skin. The feeling of being watched, of being prey set in.

It didn't make sense, didn't have a reason, but you closed your curtains and triple checked your locks nonetheless. (The bat you keep by your bed slept next to you that night)

You would have forgotten about the incident entirely if, a week later, the same feeling crept up your spine while you walked home. You'd never walked faster to get to your building. You'd practically sprinted up the stairs to your apartment, and slammed to the door behind you.

Even within your home, it took almost the whole night for the feeling to fade.

Two times could be a coincidence, but then things started getting stranger.

You could have sworn you left your keys on the counter the night before, so why, why did you find them on the coffee table?

It makes you uneasy, almost sick, but you're already late to work. So you do the only thing you can, you brush it off.

Until it happens. A thing you can't brush off.

You knew you had used the last of the sugar yesterday. Knew it because you had made a mental note to pick some up the next time you went to the store.

But there's sugar. It's not a lot. Just enough to get you through a few days. Enough to make you think you might have just missed the last of it.

You know you're right. You know you were out of sugar and even if your coworkers laugh and tell you to get more sleep, that having an angel that refills your sugar can't be that bad, you know someone's been in your apartment.

You set traps, set cameras, get your locks changed, take note of everything. You don't get any evidence.

But you notice that your window doesn't squeak anymore when you open it. Your shower doesn't rattle when you go to start it. Your oven actually heats up to the temperature you set it to.

It's been like this for months now. And you're starting to believe that Gotham does have its own set of angels that go around trying to make your life a little easier.

That is until, you meet him.

You'd been unlucky. Gotten grabbed and dragged into the alley by your apartment by some haggard looking man waving a gun. It wasn't the first time you'd been mugged in Gotham, and you doubted it would be the last.

You had reluctantly pulled your wallet and phone out of your pockets and handed them off when an armored-clad person dropped between the gun and you.

At first, it was a relief. Being saved by Batman or Nightwing is practically a rite of passage in Gotham.

But then you watched the would-be mugger hit the ground with a sickening crunch of his arm. Then you watched your savior turn to face you, and you knew it was him.

You didn't have an explanation, you didn't have proof. You'd never even seen a glimpse of the helmet that hid his face before. But you knew. He's the one that's been following you. He's the one that's been in your home.

No amount of good deeds can overshadow how violating it feels, to know he's been watching you, observing you, doing things for you. You instinctively step back.

He only matches the distance you tried to create with a step of his own.

"Who are you? What do you want," You snap, sounding braver than you feel.

He doesn't answer at first, just tilts his head like he's studying you. You think it might be because he's never seen you think close before.

"I saved you," he says instead, completely avoiding your question. You wonder if he's expecting to be treated like a hero, if he's looking for your praise. It makes your stomach churn.

"You've been following me. You're the one who's been in my apartment," You protest, eyes darting.

You half expect someone to come help you. With the way he's dressed, with how he's carrying himself, he has to be some kind of new villian you missed on the news.

He straightens out at your accusation, "Have I?"

You almost falter, almost do chalk it up to paranoia, but you just knew. Every fiber of your being knows, "Yes," You breathe out instead, "You have."

He nods slowly, then turns his back to you. A part of you wants to run, to try and escape and scream and get as far away from the man who feels like he could make you disappear without a trace.

He bends down and scoops up your phone and wallet before turning back to you. You freeze when he walks closer, each step steady and measured, then extends your belongings to you. Your hand shakes when you snatch at them.

You half expect him to yank them away, to make you beg, but he doesn't. He only keeps his grip tight on them, forcing you to be connected while you tug helpless at your things.

He watches you with his head slightly cocked before speaking again, "And if I have?"

He's easy, robotic cadence makes your blood grow cold, "Then you should stop," You retort, voice as cold as your veins.

"And if I won't," he prompts, finally releasing his hold on your things.

"I'll go to the police," You threaten, stuffing your wallet and phone back into your pockets.

"They can't help you," he warns. It makes you uneasy, that he makes no attempt to keep space between you. Even if his body language doesn't seem dangerous, everything else about him does.

"They can contact Batman," You try instead.

He laughs. It sounds humorless, empty, "He can't help you either."

You lose your nerve then, when he pats your cheek, and the guns holstered to his side seem to glint at you. "Get home," he tells you, and it makes you feel like you're some kind of pet.

And then he's gone, leaving you to an alley empty of anything, save for you and the mugger crumpled to the ground. All you can do is go home. Sleep doesn't come for you that night.

He's sloppy, now that he knows you know. You can tell it's on purpose.

Flashes of glowing blue outside your window, your things carelessly shifted about your apartment, the broken fan that hasn't worked since you moved in left on and spinning when you come home from work.

The only place he hasn't seemed to touch is your bedroom. You're not sure if it's because he's showing some slightest form of respect or if he's simply too good at hiding his tracks for you to notice.

Both options make you feel anxious, and you constantly comb over your things for proof of his presence.

You rack your brain over it, lose sleep over it, but you can't come up with one idea of who he is and why he's doing this.

There's nothing on him in the news, nothing on the internet, not even a whisper on the streets.

It feels like it's all one big, sick game to him when your favorite flowers start showing up at your door, when your gas tank fills itself.

When you tell your coworkers, in a near panic, about your rent being mysteriously paid, they tell you it's harmless, it's kind of sweet, really.

Shouldn't you just be grateful that someone's doing all that for you? Shouldn't you be thankful to have an angel looking out for you in this city?

But you know it's not harmless. You know he's capable of so much more. You know he's no angel.

The sound of the mugger's arm snapping still haunts you.

But you don't know what to do. You're stuck, on edge, and slowly coming to terms with having to live like this forever.

That is, until your bad luck seems to get even worse. You were in your pajamas, already half asleep as you're lounging on your couch, when your world gets thrown into chaos.

There's a click in your apartment door's lock, and you have the terrifying realization that tonight's the one night you'd forgotten to throw the deadbolt.

"I told ya I could get the keys to this floor. And barely anybody lives in this building afta what happen ta Murphy," the heavy Gotham accent fills your apartment and three men file into your living room like they own it.

They freeze when they see you, and you don't hesitate to sprint for your fire escape.

You've just managed to throw your window open when one of them grabs you around the middle and hauls you back, throwing you to the floor. Your head knocks against the ground, and everything spins.

You think you whimper as they start bickering. "You said no one would be here!"

"They weren't supposed ta be! It's all supposed ta be empty," one of them snaps back. It only makes your head pound and your vision swim.

You try to push yourself off the floor, but a boot lands at the center of your back and forces you back to the ground, "We have to kill them."

Murmurs of reluctance fill the room, and for a second, you think you'll get to live.

"They saw our faces," You hear the telltale sound of a gun clicking off its safety, "I'll do it."

You flinch with the shot sounds, but no more pain comes. The weight comes off your back, and a body collapses to the floor next to you.

You lift your head just enough to see a familiar blur of blue charge at the remaining two men.

It's not so much of a fight as it is an execution. It's a struggle to keep your eyes open, but anything you can't see you can hear.

There's no mercy in his actions, all wrath and fury, and you want to laugh because, in a way, he is your guardian angel. An avenging angel, pummeling the people who threatened you into something unrecognizable.

You're sure how long it lasts, how long you hear his fists connect to their flesh. But eventually, your apartment goes quiet. The sound of fabric shuffling reaches your ears, and calloused hands carefully help you move until you're sitting up.

Warm palms press to your face you realize he's taken his gloves off. You force your eyes to open, morbidly curious if he's removed his helmet, too. You're not sure why you're disappointed he hasn't.

"Saved me again," You mumble, words almost slurring.

"You're not safe here," he says softly, and his thumb runs over your cheek like he's trying to comfort you.

"They didn't think anyone lived here," You supply, but he apparently doesn't find that very reassuring.

"Let's get you out here," he says instead, and you blame it on your head injury for being impressed at how he doesn't show any signs of struggling when he picks you up and cradles you to his chest.

"Don't have anywhere to go," you say weakly, mentally trying to do the math on how much a safe hotel would cost at this time of night.

The moonlight seems to give his helmet an odd shine as you stare hazily at him. It almost looks like a halo.

"I have a place," he tells you, already carrying you out of your apartment window.

That snaps you out of your thoughts. It makes you frown, even in your dazed state, you know you don't want to go with him. That even with the trick of the light, he's no angel.

You start to squirm, "No– no, wait–"

"You need somewhere safe to recover," he says, and he doesn't seem to notice your fidgeting. Your heart leaps to your throat, at how securely he's holding you. With anyone else, it would have felt like a promise of protection.

"I don't trust you, you're not safe," You stumble out, head growing heavy with each step he takes from your apartment.

"No one's safe. But I don't have any plans on hurting you," he murmurs, seemingly more occupied with getting you to wherever he's planning to take you.

"But you could," You exhale out, and your voice sounds weak even to yourself.

That makes him pause, and his helmet tips as if he's focusing on you, "Maybe, but I wouldn't like it."

You want to argue more, demand he set you down. But your brain feels so foggy, and you're so tired and drained that your head just kind of finds itself on his shoulder.

"You can sleep," he says, and your eyes fall shut at how soft he sounds, "I'll keep watch."

You really do want to protest, but his shoulder is surprisingly comfortable. You can't help but think, as you drift off, that your angel might have fallen far lower than you can handle.

Jason's Side

[catboymoments]

I’ve been playing with my own take on the AU concept of “Belos finding Luz instead of Eda” soooo here it is!! Gilded Cage AU!

I think people forget that just because she’s silly doesn’t mean she’s dumb or would easily Get Evil if she was Belos’s ward. that’s the main theme here. Belos is like “hm maybe if I give Hunter a sister to play with he will not betray me this time. I’m a great emperor” and Meanwhile Luz is like “okay Hunter here’s how we’re going to kill this guy”

[xkaru-karux]

PEARL. PLEASE DRAW PEARL. I love how people draw her so much!!! If you can do E!Pearl thats even better(theres not enough of her) But any is fine!!!

my farmer queen <3

[chaoskilled-dinosaurs-darling]

if a show is trying to be historically accurate then it better have employed the best historians and researchers and have everything fact checked….

on the other hand, if they are throwing historical accuracy to the wind and saying ‘fuck it, the Tudor princess is going to say ‘Slay Queen’ and they’re all going to do the cha cha slide’ then i am on board