#also if you’re asking why it took me so long to design this ashi. i dunno myself

[ashipiko]

the girl is READY TO PARTY

#I JUST NEEDED SMTY TO DRAW TO TRY AND GET OUTTA ART BLOCK #also if you’re asking why it took me so long to design this ashi. i dunno myself #ITS SO MECORE AND YET…… 😔😔😔 #<///3 full bodies my unbeloved……. ignore how wack it looks #you guys can look forward to the next ashace art! #fun fact this is like the first actual actual event where ashace in canon #</3 too bad they don’t rmb it #ashi tamadai #twstshi #ashipiko draws ♪ #twst oc #twst yuu

[teddy06writes]

You Didn't Need Us Then, We Don't Need You Now

Requested by this anon: "Okay I thought of this idea during Fundy's stream. Quackity and reader were engaged to Karl and Sapnap, but they left because of Karl losing his memory and Sapnap paying more attention to him. Quackity and reader then created Las Navadas to try and cope with everything that's happened to them. They created a little wedding area where they planned to get married with Sap and Karl. Flash forward to a year or two later, Karl and Sap stumble across Las Navadas and their two former fiancees. And they see everything they've done, including the little wedding area. which is perfectly designed as to how they wanted their wedding together. That's is as far as I got to the imagine in my head. If you could make a fic out of it that would be cool. If not at least you have this cute imagine in your head! 😊"

{Okay, so- so man feels, so many ideas. I haven't seen all of the Los Nevadas streams yet because I've got a lot of school stuff going on, but, I think I have a pretty good idea of what's going on. [also Slime from The Ground my beloved]}

Quackity x reader; Past: Sapnap x Karl x Quackity x reader

trigger warnings: maybe some swearing, slight descriptions of a panic attack, slight drinking

premise: After L'manburg was destroyed, two of your fiancées seemed to disappear. With just Sapnap left, you had been scared, but he assured you that the right thing to do was split up to try and find Quackity and Karl. And, well, you found Quackity, but when He found Karl.... something else had taken over, and suddenly Kinoko Kingdom was more important than finding you and quackity again. But thats fine. You and Quackity had been together in the begining, so what did you need from the other two? Las Nevadas could fill the void they left,,, and it did, until they happened to come knocking, right as you were finally moving on.

{Also, parental unit for everyone in Las Nevadas, I love it, brain is going brr so hard}

{also also, purpled is the forgotten eldest child of the server and no the ufo does not get blown up}

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"It's gone, (y/n) it's all gone," You said with disbelief, staring over the barren, ashy place that had once been L'manburg and El Rapids, "We couldn't stop him."

Sapnap took in a shaky breath, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, "We were never could have. Even if the supplies weren't destroyed."

The remaining people had already cleared out, but you had only now come to see the damage, having been forced away from the battle by your fiancées.

"I could have helped." You fell to your knees, still staring at the wreckage.

Sapnap could only sigh at the broken look on your face. You had lost the only home you'd ever known, but what had he lost? Well, for one thing, Karl.

Karl was still no where to be found, and now it seemed that Quackity had disappeared.

He fiddled with the purple band that circled one of his fingers, "Look- we- we need to find Quackity and Karl. Q looked pretty bad the last time I saw him, and Karl-"

Resolutely you nodded, dragging yourself to stand, "Karl is Karl. He'll be happy that his statue missed being blown up. I think its Q we should be worried about. This place- El Rapids- that was everything to him."

"Well- how about you go find Quackity, and I go find Karl. We're bound to find them eventually if we split up." He offered.

You studied the look on his face, "You're covering for him. What's going on?"

Sapnap only shook his head.

Crossing your arms you turned toward the hill, and what was left of the prime path, "Quackity has the deed to some land. North of Spawn. Meet us there once you kind K, alright?"

"Okay." He said softly, leaning over to press a soft kiss on your cheek.

"Be safe." You advised, already starting away.

~~

It didn't take you very long to track down your Fiancé, in all the time you'd known him (much longer than you'd known the others), he hadn't changed too much.

So, when you made your way through the twisted paths near Pogtopia, he was up on the ridge, sitting on the rock that had for so long, doubled as a bench.

"It's good to see you're safe." You hugged your arms to your body, trying to keep your voice from shaking.

As soon as you were sitting next to him, he was leaning on you, "He destroyed everything- all that work- El Rapids-"

"I know." You wrapped your arms around him, finally letting your own tears fall, "I know."

"What are we gonna do? I just wanted a place for us- I just- I wanted to make a place for us- all we asked for was recognition- and now the only place that saw was recognizing us is gone."

It had taken a while for Quackity to stop talking about everything that had been destroyed. Even then he kept asking, "But- Just wanted to make a place for you guys, how are we gonna do that now?"

"We can still make a place," You assured him, even as you yourself were unsure, "We'll make our own little country. So far out where no one will be able to blow it up."

He seemed to take to the idea quickly, and that night, as the two of you sat together in the camp that had been made within the caverns of Pogtopia, he talked feverently of the country you two would make.

He talked of buildings, of businesses, and of wedding venues. The plans he made up that night, they were almost enough to make you forget about what had happened to your home.

"What about that land north of spawn?" You suggested, letting your head rest back on his shoulder.

Quackity thought about it for a moment, "I mean- its just some desert, but I think we could make it work."

"Good, I told Sap to meet us there once he found Karl."

He nodded, "We'll head up there, and start getting everything ready, and then when they're ready they can come up."

~~ This was how three months came to pass, with the busyness of planning the new city, the beginning of construction, the meetings with Sam to plan for the new economic system that the new country would spread through the lands.

Yet you still felt off. It had been that long and Karl and Sapnap had never returned, something must have gone horribly, horribly wrong. It nagged at you, constantly, Drove you sick with anxiety somedays.

"(y/n)."

You looked up from the designs for the next casino you had been going over, "Sam! I didn't know you were visiting today! What can I do for you?"

"Uhhh, I wasn't planning on it, you better come out here- it's Quackity, we had been discussing- some things. I don't know what happened but when he passed back through-" The creeper hybrid trailed off.

You quickly stood, rushing passed him and through the hall to the courtyard where Sam had left him, gasping for breath and tugging at his hair.

In an instant you were kneeling beside him, "Breath baby, breath."

"They- he- George- Kinoko- Sap- left- on purpose-" He blubbered.

"Hey, Q," You took his hands as gently as you could, "look at me. Breath, breath with me. Come on, breath."

Slowly, he began to calm down, and by the time Sam was long gone he slowly began to explain what happened.

"I was heading back from talking with Sam, I saw George outside the prison. He kept talking about something- about- Kinoko Kingdom..." He sighed.

"Kinoko- what?" You asked, confused.

He let his head drop into his hands, "Karl and Sapnap.... started another country- called Kinoko Kingdom... they didn't even wait for us."

You felt your heart drop, if you hadn't been holding his hands yours would've been shaking, "What-"

Quackity could only nod shakily as he pulled you into his arms.

"I told him to come back here- I told- why didn't they-" You muttered absently.

The only noise in the courtyard was from the fountains, and the small sniffles from the two of you.

You were still in a state of semi-shock and sadness when you felt his arms tighten around you.

"We don't need them anyway. Las Nevada's can prosper without them."

~~ "Purpled? You want to get him in on this?" Quackity frowned.

You shrugged, "He's a mercenary, he could be of some help around here."

Your fiancé studied your face for a moment, "No, that's not it. Why do you really want him here?"

"Look, he's-" You sighed, "The kids been through a lot. He doesn't really have anything anymore, he needs somewhere, someone at least. We owe that too him at least."

After a moment, he nodded, "I haven't spoken to him since I paid him for his help with that egg mess. He- didn't seem to like me being around."

"I'll try to find him, he'd talk to me, I'm sure of it." You stood up from your seat at the table.

"You're going now?" He asked, following you across to the coat room.

You nodded, tugging on your boots, "If I want to make it through to the Greater SMP before it gets dark. I'll see if Eret will let me stay the night, then I'll head out again."

"Be careful." Quackity advised once you were ready.

You pecked at his lips, "I always am."

The journey to the Greater SMP went quickly, and after a nights stay in Eret's castle, you had made your way to the UFO, disappointed to find it seemingly abandoned.

"How the hell am I supposed to find him if the one place he ever seems to be is empty." You muttered, glancing around the base of the UFO.

You shrugged off your knapsack, dropping it to the side, followed by the sword that had been at your hip, and then you began to climb.

Even the inside of the UFO was completely empty, devoid of any chests, crafting tables, or furnaces.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

You jumped, turning to find Purpled, in full netherite, sword gripped tight in his hand.

"I- We've been looking for you." You fumbled for an explanation, holding up your hands in a sort of surrender.

He scoffed, "I already did a job for you people, I'm busy now."

"Not for a job Purpled!" You couldn't help but exclaim, "Some people actually try to find you for more than just that."

"Then what do you want?" He snapped.

"Did Q tell you about Nevadas?"

Purpled frowned, "Yeah, he mentioned it."

"Well, I think you should join. Come in on the project."

"Why the hell would I do that?"

You sighed, "Look, Purpled, you- everyone here, in this smp, they don't care, they don't bother to know you. You- you don't really have a place here-"

"You think I don't know that?" Purpled's grip on his sword tightened.

"So, If you come with us, join Las Nevadas, you can have a place- have people who care. You need people, Purpled."

"I don't Need anyone." He insisted.

You sighed, "Someday your going to have to see that that's not true. Please consider joining Las Nevadas, no one here cares, but we do."

"That's not true," He said bitterly, "You just need me to do another god damned job."

With a shake of your head you turned, preparing for the climb back down, "Purpled, this smp isn't kind to children, but I think it's been the most unfair to you. Out here your being forgotten, but you might not be if you join us."

~~

At the base of the UFO you were surprised to find a strange, slimly looking boy digging through your bag.

"Hey!" You yelled, "Don't touch that! It's not yours!"

He looked up and froze, realizing he'd been caught.

You snatched your things away from him, quickly unsheathing your sword, "Who are you?"

"Uhhhh, I'm a meat person- same as you!" He offered.

"You- you're- uh-" You sputtered for a moment confused, "Why were you touching my things?"

"Uhhhhh, Dap me up!" He said avoiding the question.

You stared at him for a moment, "I don't have time for this."

As you started back toward the prime path you heard him call, "Nice to meet you (y/n) from Las Nevadas!"

"How do you know my name?" You demanded, whirling around.

"Oh, I know a lot of things." He laughed, "I see lots 'a stuff."

You frowned, "Uh huh. I'm gonna- walk away now."

~~ A week had passed, and there was still no signs of Purpled, nor Fundy or Foolish, (both of whom Quackity had gone to speak to whilst you were away), coming to Las Nevadas.

You were sure that Purpled would come around eventually, but had no faith that anyone else would join Las Nevadas, until you had heard a strange noise in the night.

It had been a cross between a clang and a yell, and then almost like something being dragged.

You had been going over some of the contracts you had been preparing for if anyone ever did show up when you'd heard it, and your fiancé seem to be gone from his own office, and your bedroom even, so quickly you armed yourself with your sword before hurrying out after the noise.

The streets of Las Nevadas were still partially lit by street lamps as you hurried along, it didn't take you long to find your fiancé, just outside of city limits, pacing In front of a strange looking hole.

"What the hell are you doing?" You hissed.

"Hey! It's (y/n) from Las Nevadas!"

You jumped at the voice, turning to see that no, the hole wasn't green, that the same slime boy from before was sitting in it.

"You! What are you doing here?!" You exclaimed.

"Quackity from Las Nevadas put me in this hole!" He said cheerfully.

Quackity grabbed your shoulder, turning you away from Slime and the hole, "You know him?"

"He was trying to look through my stuff after I talked to Purpled," You explained, glancing back over at the hole, "Said he sees just about everything, uhh, as far as I can tell, he's like the hybrids- but- weirder."

"Nope! I'm just a totally goopless guy! I'm bones and stuff!" He called from the hole.

"Oh god we have crazy people here." Quackity muttered scrubbing a hand over his face.

You moved to crouch next to the hole, "What- uh- What are you doing here buddy?"

"Oh I'm just oozing around. Dap me up!"

Confused, you complied, nervously laughing as he grinned at the handshake.

"I found him spying in the restaurant." Quackity sighed.

"What's spying?" The boy in the hole asked, "I just listen."

"Yeah well tell me exactly what you heard or I'll ill you right now!" Quackity threatened, pulling out his sword.

He hummed, "Well, I saw you, and I saw (y/n) from Las Nevadas. And there was a green guy, and a purple guy. I know of a Red guy, dead guy but he's not dead anymore-"

Your breath hitched, "Dead guy?"

"Yeah, looked real ashy- maybe even ...sooty?..." He confirmed.

Quackity glanced back at you, "And he's not dead anymore?"

"No. He's weird now. Got gray hair instead of grey skin. Used to run a country- got blown up though."

"How much have you seen man?" You asked, incredulous.

He shrugged, "I mean, I move slow but I've seen a lot. Lately a lot of conversations about taking advantage of the ever so fragile human psyche through gambling."

"Holy shit." you muttered.

Quackity glared up into the night sky, almost looking for an answer.

Shifting closer too look at the boy you frowned, "What's all that green stuff?"

"Oh- those are just- my totally normal- human parts! I'm a person!" He grinned.

You sighed, "Uhh, look, what's your name? Like how I'm (y/n) from Las Nevadas, who are you?"

"Oh, I'm goop from the ground!" He smiled for a moment before realizing his mistake, "I mean- I'm a meat person!"

Quackity still seemed to be praying to the sky, not paying any attention.

"Goop from the ground," You muttered, slowly connecting the dots, "Well, uhh, goop, how bout I give you a regular person name?"

"A person name? Oh boy!" He laughed.

You thought for a moment longer, "How about- Charlie?"

Charlie grinned, somehow even wider than before, "Woah! I have a real human name! Like any other regular human meat person!"

"Yep, you do." You chuckled.

"And, to be clear, I definitely am one of those, and not a piece of goop, that's slowly come to the surface, hiding as a person!"

As you continued to talk with Charlie, Quackity seemed to come to a realization, "He's like an accidental spy!"

And, when you helped him out of the hole Quackity was quick to say, "Well, this- this- was- was uh a formal greeting! Yeah that's what we call them!"

"Wow!" Charlie mused.

The walk back to Las Nevadas was quiet, until Charlie turned to you, "(y/n) from Las Nevadas, if I'm Charlie- where- where?"

You smiled, "Do you want to be Charlie from Las Nevadas?"

~~

By the end of the same week, after having gotten Charlie fully on board, and slight agreement from Foolish, word finally came from Purpled.

You'd been working on the next phase of the whole Nevadas Project when Charlie rushed in, "(y/n) from Las Nevadas! There's someone here!"

You frowned, "Who?"

"Purpled from UFO!" He practically yelled.

Standing, you tucked your papers away, "That's perfect Charlie, thank you. Do you want to come with to help show him around?"

He nodded, following you out of your office.

Outside, you found Purpled, along with his dog, looking up at the casino in awe.

"Purpled! You came!" You called cheerfully.

The boy turned, a strange expression you couldn't read on his face, "What? No 'I told you so'? No 'I knew you'd come around eventually'?"

You shrugged, "I'm just glad you finally came."

He sighed, "It's not like they needed me anywhere else."

You put a hand on his shoulder, "That's alright, We need you here."

"They- I went to tell Ponk I was leaving," Purpled sounded too broken, too tired, "He said he was too busy to talk to me."

Before you could say anything, he continued, "I had a house, near L'Manhole. I- I uh blew it up, to see what would happen," His shoulders began to shake, ever so slightly, as he finished in a whisper, "No one even noticed."

In one quick move you wrapped an arm around his shoulder and pulled him into a hug, "It's okay Kid, it'll be okay now."

That was how your fiancé found you, standing outside the main casino, a teen all but sobbing into your shirt, Charlie looking on confused.

~~

And so, the time passed, Las Nevadas grew, and you and your new little family did along with it.

Quackity found it funny, really, your ability to bring people onto your side be connecting with them emotionally, and as he put it, all but adopting them.

Charlie still took up a room in the apartments you and Quackity staid in above the offices. Purpled would come over when things around the country weren't so busy, and you'd talk for hours, Foolish joining in some of the time.

Fundy, on his first night in the city, had broken down to you, the same as Purpled, but you'd helped him put himself together. Though Tommy, Tubbo and Ranboo didn't have official places in Las Nevadas, it seemed a chunk of their time was spent there.

Yep, that was your new strange family. You, Your fiancé and the kids but not really young enough to still be kids you accidently adopted.

Now, you reflected on this quietly, from the top of the needle.

"You okay?" Quackity asked softly, looking over at you.

You chuckled softly, "Can you believe that it's been two years?"

"No, can you?"

You shook your head, "You know, I've been thinking. A long time ago, you told me we were better off with out Karl and Sapnap."

He watched silently, as you pulled the other two rings that you had kept, holding them up by the chain they were strung on.

"Maybe- you were right- and maybe it's finally time to get married. Just us. We didn't need them to get here, we won't need them for anything else."

A small smile slipped onto Quackity's lips, "Would you marry me?"

"You already know the answer to that." You chuckled.

"So it's a yes?"

"Obviously." You scoffed.

"When should we have the ceremony then?" He asked.

"Right now," You mused, "We opened that wedding hall for a reason, right? We could get married proper, right now. It's already decorated the way Tubbo originally planed."

He laughed, "Let's do it tomorrow that way we have time to get like, notices out and shit."

You smiled, "Of course."

The sun had begun to set during this discussion, and you looked out over the peaceful landscape with a soft sigh, yes, this, this was home.

And even as you heard Charlie tripping and crashing his way up the stairs, the thought still filled your head.

"Quackity and (y/n) from Las Nevadas!" He exclaimed, "Purpled from Las Nevadas found some people by the border!"

In an instant, both you and Quackity were standing, "What were they doing?"

"Looking around, real weird like. Fundy From Las Nevadas said they might be here to attack us! I hope they aren't."

You followed Quackity past him and back down from the tower, drawing your sword as Charlie called out where he had left Purpled and the mystery people.

What you found was not what you expected.

Purpled stood, sword drawn and pointed at the men you least expected to see now.

Karl looked scared, tucked back behind Sapnap who was moving to draw his own sword.

Not another move!" You barked, moving to stand in line with Purpled.

Karl's face light up upon seeing you, "(y/n)! Quackity! I missed you!"

"Did you?" Quackity spit.

"Sapnap drop your sword." You commanded, not paying attention to the strange look on their faces, no one, and I mean no, pulled a sword on your family.

He frowned, "Wh- (y/n) don't be like that. I get it- but- why..."

"What are your intentions? Why have you come here?" You asked.

"We wanted to find you!" Karl said, "We missed you (y/n)."

"Uhh, that's (y/n) from Las Nevadas to you." Charlie said.

Quackity sighed, grabbing Charlie by the collar and pulling him back, "Sorry- he's been learning sass and sarcasm lately."

"Still, what are you doing here?" You pushed.

"We wanted to find you! You've been gone so long, we thought we'd go looking." Sapnap explained.

"We've been gone?" You scoffed, "You were the ones who disappeared."

Karl moved forward, grabbing your left hand, and Quackity's right, "We just wanted to come back, to finally get married."

You pulled away, slowly sheathing your sword, "You can't be serious?"

"What do you mean?" Karl asked, the smile just beginning to drip off his face.

"You fucking left us- We were just trying to make a place for the four of us to be safe and you left us! And now you want back? Out of the blue?" Your voice steadily grew louder, "You cannot show up here after abandoning us like that!"

Quackity gently took your hand, murmuring, "(y/n)..."

"No. They don't get to do this!" You turned to him, watching his face change upon seeing the mix of anger and sadness in your eyes.

"W- We'll talk about this tomorrow, away from the kids," He asserted, for once not earning any protest about age from Purpled or Fundy, "Charlie, you think you can take these guys on a tour of the place?"

He nodded eagerly, "This way this way!"

As Sapnap, Karl, Purpled and FUndy began to trudge after him, Quackity turned to you, "(y/n)?"

You just shook your head, pulling your hand out of his and starting away.

~~ Purpled had followed the tour party quietly, taking a page from Charlie's book and watching, observing everything.

He had seen the pain in your face at the suggestion of marriage, and the anger in Quackity's just upon seeing them.

So, he followed the men warily, watching the way Karl exclaimed about how he had built an Effile tower just like the one in the city in Manberg, and the way that Sapnap mentioned fondly how the décor at the wedding hall matched the ones you two had always spoken about.

Hearing it nearly drove him mad. Did they not realize that it had all been for them? That dreams of them arriving were the only thing that had ruled Your and Quackity's minds?

When Charlie had directed the group, which by now included some of the other tourists, past one of the bars, he stopped.

Inside, Quackity was slumped at the bar, a bottle of whiskey in hand.

"Drinking away your problems won't solve them." Purpled sighed, pulling the bottle away from him.

"We were doing so good without them. You know that Purp. But here they are, back and ready to fuck things up again. That's how it's always been." He muttered.

The boy shook his head, "They don't realize how destructive they are? Do they?"

"Never have." He sighed.

"Lets get you back home."

Quackity allowed himself to be manhandled into standing, and then led out of the bar, back toward the offices, and toward the apartment.

"(y/n) will figure it out. They always do." Purpled assured him, pulling open the apartment door and ushering him in.

"But they shouldn't have too," He sighed, running a hand through his hair, not bothered by the way his beanie fell to the floor, "They've dealt with so much without help. Yet they're always the ones to help us."

~~

Once he had wrangled Quackity into the bedroom, Purpled headed back out, finding Fundy at the base of the Needle, "They up there?"

"Yeah," The hybrid sighed, "Quackity?"

"Got drunk. He's- painfully coherent though." He winced.

Fundy ran a hand through his hair, "It's hard to believe one of the nicest people around is the one to fuck them up like this."

"Makes perfect sense to me," Purpled said as they began to make their way toward the stairs, "My first night here- I was having a hard time, because- the whole server acted like I didn't exist. (y/n) told me about how Sapnap and Karl had abandoned them."

"Did it seem this bad though?" Fundy asked.

"No- but that was before they turned up again talking about marriage."

By now they had reached the top of the tower, and Purpled could see where you sat by the ledge, feet dangling over. Quietly, they both sat down on either side of you.

"How's Q?" You asked quietly after a moment.

"Drunk, but back at your apartment, well supplied with water." Purpled reported.

You nodded, "And K and- Karl and Sapnap?"

"Waaay to blissfully ignorant." Fundy said.

Quiet held you three in silence for a moment, until at last Purpled sighed, asking, almost bitterly, "So- are you gonna marry them? You were going to once."

"Even if I did it wouldn't change anything here." You mumbled.

"Sapnap was talking about how cool it would be to come back and visit from Kinoko after the honeymoon." Fundy admitted.

Before you could say anything Purpled drew one of his knees to his chest, "I- don't- it feels like they'd be taking you away from us- I like it the way it is. Things are nice, and they're just fucking it up."

Fundy nodded, "As much as I hate to say it, he's right. If you people all get married nothing will be the same. I kind of liked having parental figures, I don't want them messing that up."

"They won't." You promised softly.

By god, if you hadn't already made up your mind, their words would've swayed you.

~~ After a while, you stood, "Let's go home."

They followed you tiredly, Charlie joining the mini procession at one intersection, telling you that Sapnap and Karl had gone to get a hotel room.

At the apartment, Quackity was sitting on the couch, already seeming more sober than Purpled had told you. When you sat next to him, his arms were quick to wrap around you, holding you like a lifeline.

Charlie took his place on the other side of the couch, Purpled curled up in the armchair, and Fundy dug around until he found one of the old projectors he'd left there, queuing up a movie.

"Hey, just like on Nightmare's days!" Charlie laughed, referring to the infamous 16th, where, just about every month it seemed you, Fundy, Quackity and sometime Purpled would have nightmares of the Manburg Pogtopia war, and everyone would congregate in the living room to watch one of Fundy's movies.

"Sure as hell feels like one." Quackity muttered.

And so you watched the movie, though your thoughts drifted, thinking of how you would deal with your reappearing ex-fiancés.

As you thought, you created a mini script in your head. Exactly what you would say came you.

"You didn't need us then, and we don't need you now."

Yes, you thought, leaning more into Quackity's side, thats what you'd say, after you talked about your new family.

(and the next day, you did just that)

#mcyt x reader #quackity x reader #quackity imagines #sapnap x karl x quackity x reader #karlnapity #karlnapity x reader #teddy 06 writes #teddy06 #teddy 06 #I was going to write the full confrontaion #but I didn't have it in me

[markynaz]

7/29

Ruins / Campfire Written for @tes-summer-fest 2021 Wordcount: 1593 Content Warnings: Imprisonment Ao3 Mirror: here

The statue to Azura was always relic of the days long before memory, even back to when Morrowind was instead Resdaynia. Neither Wise Women nor careful Temple records recalled when it had actually been built. It had been impeccably maintained through the years, though by whom varied. Sometimes Ashlanders would come to groom the ash off Azura’s face and ensure the roses on her brow stayed sharp. Sometimes curious Telvanni would come, dusting off the plinth before her feet to perform some ritual or another, respectful of the Good Daedra’s power. Sometimes Temple pilgrimages would visit her as the Anticipation of Sotha Sil, the closest to the clockwork god they could get while he secreted himself away, and worthy of respect as was every piston in the Maker’s great design.

Those days had vanished with the Red Year.

Now the Reclamation’s statue was buried by volcanic rock that neither spell nor might could move - and both Temple and Ashlanders had tried, desperate for guidance in the wake of the now-absent living gods. The eighty-foot tall statue of the Lady was buried up to her waist in rock, details of her robe melted into the solid lava flow. Attempts at excavation showed the barest hint of the plinth at her feet, but no more than a thin edge, covered in burned down Temple-issued candles. In a way it was a ruin, a picture of despair, and perhaps that's why the Temple had withdrawn. New statues could always be built. Vvardefell, especially the southern coast, was too uninhabitable - too full of memory - for the statue to be any great reminder of what they had lost.

The Ashlanders clung still to their home. Zainab Tribe especially, ranging along the no-longer-grassy Grazelands, looked up to the imprisoned statue and felt for her. They too were rooted where they'd stood for generations with no way out. They too would survive, just as all the Three had taught them.

There were nights where Masser and Secunda were no more than slivers in the dark night sky. On those nights, keen Ashlander eyes could note that the statue - merely a silhouette against the stars - seemed to reflect some sort of moonlight. If not for the darkness of Tamriel’s moons, one would hardly notice it. The moon and star held aloft in Azura’s outstretched hand glimmered with the light as it diffused across the rest of the statue much more faintly. Moonlight, in a sense - but much more beautiful, with many more colors than Masser and Secunda could ever hope to give.

The Ashlanders saw this as a blessing, a boon, a prophecy. Azura had not abandoned them. She was watching over them now, even as her statue was imprisoned by the rock flow, and she would guide them from this night and into the twilight hours of prophecy and glory once more. This had to be the case. And chins started to lift in the small Ashlander camps, the despair no longer as heavy as the ash on the air.

The Wise Woman said nothing about all of this.

Dusanabi, Wise Woman of Zainab Tribe, had wanted to believe as much as her people when the lights had first been noticed. That first night she had retreated to her yurt and prepared a ritual of connection, dipping into her low-running stores to make the old tincture, setting it over a fire and allowing the steam to make its way around her and into her lungs as she fell asleep.

She was prepared to receive the cool, glittering, loving presence of her Prince into her dream. She was prepared to walk in Moonshadow, kneel at her Prince’s feet, and ask her for some bit of guidance she could pass on to Azura’s beloved people.

That was not what she received.

Instead the vision that took her was of the dim inside of a Daedric ruin. The air was stifling, ashy beyond the scent of the ritual herbs in Dusanabi’s lungs. When she looked back, the doorway was sealed by volcanic rock.

There was no statue inside the ruin, but Dusanabi knew in her heart who it was dedicated to. It would be difficult to deny. The single furnishing in the entire room was a bare stone slab, carved all around with praises of Azura in old Chimeris, and upon it lay a woman.

Dusanabi approached with gentle steps, her dream-feet making no sound and leaving no mark on the dusty stone floor.

The Dunmer woman had her arms resting at her sides, hands relaxed, fingernails glimmering with the faint light of the stars. Her eyes were closed. A fine robe covered her neck to ankle, a House robe - woven beautifully of gold and silver and gray spidersilk, though in a style so old that Dusanabi couldn’t recall ever seeing a House mer wear something similar. She did not stir as Dusanabi gently touched her chest, but there were thoughts there, under the surface - not the glittering unfathomability of a Prince, but the warm touch of a mortal.

Dusanabi woke up in her yurt with a pounding headache and a sickness clutching her heart.

But she had to know properly. She couldn’t just leave it there, not when her people still gasped and hoped over the lights of the ruin the next night. This time she modified her ritual of connection - different proportions, different herbs, and drank a tea of strengthening before she lit the fire and allowed the scent to infuse her dreams.

The Daedric ruin was not the place she found herself in this time. Instead, a lively bed of coals crackled in the middle of a stone pavilion, built solid like a House mer home before Red Mountain had erupted. Scattered around the room were colorful cushions and blankets, bright colors and warm fabrics, contrasting against the lovely night sky outside and the breathtakingly ethereal gardens far below.

The woman in the ruin rose from a cushion to greet her.

She was quite solid, quite real, and not as unconscionably beautiful as her surroundings. Bright golden eyes flared from her angular gray face, and her brown hair fell loose around her shoulders. But her smile was warmer than even the coals at the center of the room as she bade Dusanabi to sit.

“Please,” she added once they were both settled, Dusanabi almost wishing she could feel the silks at her fingertips, because what sort of texture would the cloth of Moonshadow have? “I’m afraid I don’t quite understand how you’ve come, but I’m grateful for the visit nonetheless. Tell me- what is your name?”

“I am the Wise Woman of Zainab Tribe. They call me Dusanabi.” She squinted at the woman opposite her. “And you are our Nerevarine.”

The woman did not try to hide it, dipping her head with sadness furrowing her brow.

“So it is truly you, in the shrine.”

Arafel, the Nerevarine, nodded, giving life to all of Dusanabi’s fears. “My Lady thinks it best that I… do not interfere as directly as I once did,” she said regretfully. “I may still look out on the world and observe, watch it go by and change without me. But these past thirty years, I am not allowed to interact.”

Dusanabi folded her hands in her lap, glancing around herself. It was a very small pavilion, for all its beauty, for a woman to inhibit for decades unending.

“We had thought the statue imprisoned.”

Arafel laughed, a sound with no joy in it. “I imagine it is, in a way. But I do not think it would be if my Lady did not also want it to be a prison.”

Dusanabi’s face must have been very unguarded, because the Nerevarine looked as if she regretted her words instantly. She reached out, placing a hand over Dusanabi’s ethereal one.

“Please don’t worry over me, Wise Woman,” she said. “I would hate to give you grief when you’re doing such a good job of guiding the people I love. Looking out on Tamriel gives me solace, and the spirit of Nerevar is a great comfort. This is not the first time he’s gone through this at our Lady’s pleasure.”

“Her will is always as deep and obscured as her love,” murmured Dusanabi, falling back on the old maxims. She gained the favor of Arafel’s smile.

“It always has been.”

A few more words of numb nothings were all Dusanabi had time for before the connection began to fade, her mortal shell unable to sustain the dreamwalk to Moonshadow for long. She awoke alone in her own yurt, to an aching cramp curving up under her ribs at all the magicka she had spent, and to a somewhat more painful ache in her heart.

She slowly stood and exited her yurt. The faint, gorgeous lights still shimmered over the statue of Azura. Below, the people of Zainab Tribe had rallied around their evening fire, the conversation having more animation now than it had in several years.

It gave hope to her tribespeople to believe the lights at the shrine were a sign of favor. So Dusanabi sat and watched and gave evasive answers when questioned about the ruin against the skyline, trying to expel the ash of despair from her lungs.

Whether Azura had abandoned them was yet to be seen. But she had certainly abandoned her champion - and forced her to abandon the Ashlanders she’d advocated so fondly for in turn.

The Wise Woman quietly convinced the Ashkhan to break camp and move up the coast sooner than expected.

#tesfest21 #nerevarine arafel #ashlander vibes #half of the time I spent writing this was trying to come up with dusanabi's name #I'm absolutely fucking awful at making ashlander names #but for once I didn't just take the coward's way out and bastardize a hebrew word beyond recognition lol #longform #tes morrowind #tes fic #arafel my love.... been writing about her as a mom a lot lately #and you 100% bet she's thinking about the last words sotha said to her and 200% regretting that it was an argument #for THIRTY YEARS #does sotha know her mom is trapped in a fucking rock? no <3

[officialleehadan]

Menkent Ripple

“Ursa.”

Senator Stal Ursa was not accustomed to his name being spoken, quietly and without formality. The surprise of it immediately took his attention form the reports he was studying, and when he looked up, he froze.

Everyone knew of the Edge girl from Asteroid Base 42. How could they not, when she had fallen into orbit with Cygnus Volans as if she was made to be there. How could Ursa fail to take note of the woman whose disappearance, presumed death, turned his most powerful psion into a near-mindless weapon. And who, upon her return, somehow got more powerful. Somehow, during her imprisonment, she discovered a way to destroy the ships that were tearing apart their own attempts at defense. The tie was turning. Slowly, but surely. Because of her.

So yes, Ursa knew about Andromeda Oct. He knew where she came from, and that she was an orphan, with no family, and nothing interesting in her future until she came mind-to-mind with Cygnus.

He also knew that she was still fragile. That her talents, apparently as varied and powerful as Cygnus’ own, were unstable at the best of times.

She could probably hear every thought that passed his mind.

He hated working with psionics.

“Come in,” he said, and nodded a dismissal to his aid as Andra walked in with Cygnus’ arm over her shoulders. He was ashy and looked ill, and Ursa wondered what kind of trouble they possibly could have found in the few short hours since he saw them at the last briefing. “What can I do for you?”

Andra shared a long look with Cygnus, no doubt sharing thoughts, before she nodded once.

“Cyg had a vision,” she said without preamble, and didn’t blink when Ursa muttered a curse. Precognition. It was so unreliable that he tried not to rely on it, but when it came, it could make a difference. “About the war. The ships we’re facing are scout ships. The real force hasn’t even made it here yet, but they’re coming.”

That warranted a stronger curse, and Ursa dropped into his chair as fear threatened to steal his reason.

“We’ve been fighting the vanguard?” he rasped through a throat that suddenly felt dry as desert sand. His head swam at the very thought. How could they possibly face a force greater than the one that already threatened to ruin them? What hope was there, if the great, sleek destroyers that were ripping apart whole planets were nothing but the frontrunners? “This whole time?”

(Not even that.) Ursa jumped, but there was no doubt of the ‘voice’ in his mind. Cygnus shrugged faintly, a little shamefaced behind his mop of dark curls. (Sorry. My voice is too shot for vocal speech. Can we show you what we saw? You should… you should know what we’re up against.)

There was very little that Ursa wanted less, but he nodded anyway. He had never been one to shy away from the unpleasant duties of his station, and that now included trying to save his race from obliteration. If this vision would help, he could do nothing more than try to use it to the fullest.

Of course, he also remembered the last two visions he saw Cygnus have, realized why the psion was speaking telepathically, and profoundly hoped that he would not scream himself raw.

“You won’t,” Andra said softly, and tried to offer a smile. It came out as more of a grimace, but Ursa appreciated the effort. “We’ll buffer you from the… the worst of it. You’ll ‘see’ the vision, but you won’t experience it like Cyg does.”

That did help, although Ursa still didn’t like the idea any.

Oh well.

“Once more into the breech,” he said with a half-shrug. “We need information. Will you be able to share this vision with the rest of our command?”

(If they’re willing. I won’t force it on anyone,) Cygnus assured him. He reached out, and Ursa noted with alarm that Cygnus’ fingers trembled slightly, barely noticeable, but distinctly there. (Take a deep breath in, and release it slowly.)

Before Ursa could do more than breathe, blackness, the dark of open space, engulphed him like falling backwards into shadowy water filled with stars.

(You’re safe.)

That was Andra. Ursa scrambled for his sense of self amid the whirling stars, disoriented and struggling, until bright, brassy-green glimmers appeared out of the darkness and wrapped around him. A moment later, they were followed by more, this time haloed in orange-yellow that somehow felt like amusement.

(Take a minute to get yourself together,) Cygnus, the orange-yellow glimmers, told him calmly. (We’re not going to let you ‘drown’. You’re in my mind. Specifically, on the leading edge of the vision-memory.)

(We didn’t realize how disorienting this would be for you,) Andra agreed, her green glimmers fading to apologetic blue. (It’s easy to forget that what we do isn’t normal for most people.)

(How do you function like this?!) Ursa said incredulously, and didn’t realize he had responded telepathically until the words came out as vivid orange alarm, shot through with pink ribbons of curiosity. (No, don’t explain it. I don’t want to know.)

He took a breath, now vaguely aware of his own body responding, somewhere far away, and braced himself. (I’m ready. Show me.)

(Remember, this is a memory of a vision,) Andra told him when the stars rippled, like the reflection of a night sky on glassy water, disturbed by a single jumping fish. (Nothing here can hurt you.)

Ursa wanted to ask what she meant, and then his eyes fell on the ships.

Thousands of them. Immense, towering vessels. The kind that were specially designed for deep space travel, but much, much bigger. Immense beyond understanding, until he realized that they were asteroids, and moons, and farther back, so far that it was almost lost in the black of space, a ship carved of what could only be a planet.

It wasn’t until his mind shuddered, and he looked closer, that he realized what he thought were little one-man fighters, hovering in swarms around the bigger ships, were actually the same titanic destroyers that were shredding apert his fleet without the slightest effort.

And there were millions of them.

Before he could do anything more than take a single, panicked breath, the stars rippled again and were gone all at once.

He made it to his waste basket just in time to lose everything in his stomach. Icy terror stole the strength from his legs and left him heaving into the little plastic container until he could barely breath and black spots danced around the edges of his vision.

Small hands steadied him and helped him sit back, supported by the wall. Andra offered him a tiny smile even as Cygnus poured a glass of water and knelt to press it into his hand.

(Now you see,) Cygnus told him as he drank, panicked again, and discovered more of the brassy-green glimmers in his mind, soothing away the terror. Andra gave him a tiny, comforting nod, and Ursa couldn’t find it in himself to be anything except grateful for her intervention. (I don’t know how much time we have, but some is more than none. We need to call all our forces together. Because they’re coming, and when they get here, we have to be ready.)

+++

Guiding Stars:

Andra was a mechanic and a pilot with nothing but an old, battered ship to call her own. Cygnus Volans is the most powerful psion to ever live. They were on opposite sides of a messy revolution, until a shared vision of the future brings their two warring sides together against a much greater threat.

Procyon Moon

Altair Chariot

Vega Dignity

Cappella Besieged

Canopus Emergent

Nihal Collision

Spica Interlude

Polaris Eclipsed

Sirius Empowered

Mizar Orbit (Free on Patreon)

Dabih Risen

Ankaa Igniting (Free on Patreon!)

Leporis Crush (Subscriber Only!)

Porrima Chain

+++

MORE STORIES!

+++

[growingstronglikeahighgardenrose]

Hug Me

For the @sanditoncreative valentine’s day prompt challenge: “Candy Hearts é Tropey Starts”

Day 4: Hug Me Pairings: Georgiana/James Stringer, Georgiana& Stringer (interpret their chemistry as you like) Also available on AO3

Synopsis: When Charlotte left Sanditon, two were left behind sorely missing their beloved friend. They hadn’t met before, but they quickly took to filling up the gap left in each other’s lives.

x.x.x

Mrs. Griffiths couldn’t keep Georgiana with her if she tried. She hadn’t felt inclined to obey before, and she certainly didn’t now that her guardian had broken the heart of her only friend, successfully chasing her away from Sanditon.

She was supposed to listen to a reading session from that awful reverent again. She rather receives lashes for running away than spending one minute listening to another lecture of how wilful young ladies were the worst thing on earth.

So that was how she found herself distractedly walking through town on her way to the post office with a letter for Charlotte, until a body slammed against hers, the force causing both of them to smack on the dirt road. The heavy body covered hers, arms encircling her, as if he was hugging her.

She hadn’t been hugged in so long, she silently thought.

Looking away from the ground, she spotted a rope from which a heavy giant limestone hung, just inches away from them.

It would have hit her had she not been moved aside.

This town was going to be the death of her.

She looked to her left side, where she could feel a man breathing in raggedly.

  ‘What on earth?!’

‘Are you alright now, Miss?’

She took a moment to look down at herself as they crawled to a sitting position. There was no way Mrs. Griffiths wouldn’t notice the dirt stains, and there was no way Sidney wasn’t going to hear.

‘What is this place? Why couldn’t anyone put some kind of warning up?’

‘Well, with all due respect Miss, we did. I even tried shouting to warn ya, but ye didn’t seem to hear’, the warm accented voice said.

Her eyes travelled to the direction she’d come from. The road had been barred on both sides, a warning sign dangling from both of them, and the building site was quite visible as well. She’d simply moved to the side away from the bars to get through, and hadn’t paid any additional attention.

‘It slipped my notice.’

‘I noticed. I’m sorry I dragged ye to the ground, but as you can see, I was afraid something might’ve gone wrong if I hadn’t.’

‘No, it’s alright given the circumstances. I didn’t hear you calling.’

Both their eyes slid towards the crumpled letter in her hands.

‘Wonder if they’d still accept it’, she muttered.

‘Still looks good enough to me, name and address can still be read just fine.’

His eyes finally registered just which name they read.

‘You’re acquainted with Miss Heywood, Miss?’

‘Yes,’ she replied as she observed him with weary eyes, ‘how do you know her?’

‘We were well acquainted during her stay… not in any improper way of  course’, he added as he noticed her eyes growing sharp. ‘She took an interest to my work.’

‘Saving distracted damsels?’ she asked, deciding to take pity on him after addressing him that sharply.

‘It’s a bit more boring than that. I used to design buildings. It doesn’t matter anymore, I guess. I’ve given up that dream.’

‘Sanditon has destroyed a lot of hopes and dreams this summer’, Georgiana muttered, her heart still aching slightly as she remembered her naïve dreams.

The young man gave her a troubled look, nodding as he stood and offered his hand to pull her up.

She accepted the hand and took her time to analyse his face.

‘What is your name?’

‘They call me Young Stringer… Well, I guess it’s just Stringer now. James Stringer.’

‘Did your father die recently?’

‘In the fire.’

Georgiana nodded, but the common apologies and condolences weren’t offered.

‘And your mother?’

‘She died back when I was young.’

‘A fellow orphan’, she smiled gently.

‘I’m sorry for your loss, Miss.’

‘You get used to it, though the pain never goes away. I do think however, that moving succeeded in taking my mind off of it. It kept me busy.’

James nodded, not quite convinced he’d ever get accustomed to hearing himself being addressed as Mr. Stringer and arriving to an empty home.

‘Wasn’t that hard though. If you move away from the place they lived in, saying goodbye to all those memories?’

‘It is. On the one hand I’m not confronted by the past on a daily basis which helps me to get past it, on the other hand England’s a nasty cold place… both literally and figuratively.’

‘It’s only a dreary place if you make it one, Miss. There’s a great deal of good people.’

‘There was only one good person in this entire place, and she left.’

‘Well, you don’t fear speaking your mind, Miss.’

He’d said similar words just a couple of months ago. It left an ashy taste in his mouth. The pain of her memory, so closely tied to the hope he’d lost, had barely lessened. First heartache, the other young workmen had laughed, it apparently always hurt the most. But how could it not? She was the most vibrant and lovely being he’d ever met, entirely unique… and now he’d credited another with one of her merits. He felt guilty for using words he’d spoken to her when addressing another.

‘And why shouldn’t I?’

‘I don’t mind, Miss, I really don’t. More people should. I greatly admired that in Miss Heywood as well.’

‘So did I. Escort me to the end of this traitorous street, will you?’

‘Very well, Miss.’

They walked in companionable silence. Georgiana mulling over his talk of good people and his own broken dreams. If he’d been a friend of Charlotte’s, perhaps they could fit together as friends as well, and fill the gap Charlotte’s departure had left.

Meanwhile, James fought himself to keep from prying for a while and asking information of a lady who was clearly very above him. But in the end, he missed Charlotte too much to care for propriety.

‘May I just enquire as to how she is, Miss?’

‘She’s settled in again, and her family is doing well.’

Georgiana didn’t know Charlotte’s connection to this James. So she decided to only give him the polite answer.

He wrung his hands, looking between the end of the street and the lady on his side.

‘But…’

He sighed, shaking his head.

‘How is she, personally. Is she… doing well? Herself’, he explained.

‘No, she isn’t.’

His head fell down. Georgiana eyed him with worry. They’d been good friends then, if the news of her wellbeing hit him so hard.

‘I’m sorry Miss’, he said when he noticed her expression.

‘I don’t know if I’m in a position to write to her. So I haven’t heard of her since August. But I had hoped that… well, that she’d be happy again by now. She was the epitome of optimism and hope, until that…’

He clenched his jaw shut, hands balling into fists as he swallowed the words. It wasn’t right to talk about the brother of his employer that way, especially not to a lady.

‘Until Sidney came along’, she said, voice dripping with venom.

His eyes shot to her.

She looked back, the corner of her mouth rising towards her cheekbone in a cold smile.

‘So you know about him as well. You really do know Charlotte. Good. Now I know I may talk freely. Have no fear, I consider him most insufferable and horrible. He’s responsible for her sadness and her departure. I blame him for it every time I see him. The only comfort I have is that he appears to be unhappy as well. Serves him right. He robbed me of my sole friend.’

James processed the new information, but knew not how to respond.

‘Do you know him… personally?’

‘He’s my legal guardian… neither of us are particularly happy about it’, she smirked.

Sidney Parker’s charge. The rich heiress from overseas! Miss Lambe, if he remembered her introduction at the midsummer ball correctly.

 They reached the end of the street.

‘Well Miss, good luck posting the letter. And do be careful when walking back home. Should… should you write to Miss Heywood again could you send her my regards and well wishes, though you are absolutely in no way obliged, I know very well she probably isn’t waiting around for someone like me to give her a message.’

‘I shall. And I disagree. Charlotte cares for everyone, even those she shouldn’t care about. Why shouldn’t she be glad to hear of someone she’s spent time with in Sanditon? Besides, she needs and deserves all the well wishes she can get.’

‘I thank you, Miss.’

‘You know, you are horribly subservient.’

‘Just being proper and respectful Miss, I know my place.’

‘Your place, as a fellow friend of Charlotte, is next to me. I have enough people praising me for simply being wealthy and I’m sick of it. You know, it’s been months since anyone but Sidney called me Georgiana. I’d like to hear my name from someone else’s mouth from time to time.’

‘Your name? Only people who are relatives address each other on a first name basis.’

‘Or good friends. You were friends with Charlotte, that’s a seal of approval. And you said your own dreams were dashed this summer. May I propose that we with broken dreams who are both missing our friends, should share our sorrow and the disdain for our common enemy?’

He couldn’t help but smile as she awaited his answer with twinkling eyes.

‘I would gladly accept, Miss Georgiana.’

#6 sanditon valentines #sanditon

[mrsjihyunkim]

20 Seconds of Bravery Ch 23

Sorry updates are taking so long >.< I’ve been busy going to various graduation parties for family members

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      V's father was standing right in front of me and I had no idea what to say. He had asked me a question but I hadn't done anything but stare at him. "Um yes. Sorry I didn't realize you were coming." I took a deep breathe and tried to smile but his facial expression remained stern. "I can take you to him if you want." My voice sounded so small and I was kicking myself for it. V's father nodded and I turned back around to head back towards the room. I knocked on the door and heard V tell us to come in. When I walked into the room I could see the slight shock on Jumin's face, but he quickly recovered.

"How did your phone call go MC?" I let out a nervous laugh.

"I didn't make it. Instead I ran into your father." V's shoulders straightened up once I said that. He stood up and held his hand out to me. I took it in an instant and he leaned on me.

"Hello Father. Why are you here?" His father seemed to stiffen at his question.

"My secretary was informed that you were having surgery so naturally I was concerned." V let out of sigh but I didn't understand it.

"I'm assuming that you had something to do with this Jumin." I looked over at Jumin and he was almost smirking.

"I will neither confirm or deny that, but MC and I will step outside so you two can talk." Before I could say anything in protest Jumin was pulling me out of the room and out into the hallway. He stuck his head into the door to say one last thing but I could barely hear it. Once he closed the door he began to walk down the hall. I was beyond shocked as I chased after Jumin.

"This is going to sound very rude, but what the hell Jumin? Was that really V's dad? Why did you call them here?" I was so full of questions but I stopped when Jumin put his hand on my shoulder.

"They have a lot to talk about. V and his father are very distant and I think it's time they close that gap. Plus I know that my father would want to know if I had a life changing operation. Do you oppose to V seeing his father?"

"Of course not. Everyone should be with their family if they can. I just feel bad about surprising him with it. He's barely been awake for an hour. What if this overwhelms him." I looked back to the room and Jumin sighed.

"I'm sure V will be fine. He may not admit it but he misses his father and I also think his father would want to be part of his son's happiness. That means meeting you and knowing about V's life." I was blushing now as I recalled my encounter with V's father.

"Well I'm positive I already made a terrible first impression." We were now at a vending machine and Jumin was studying it. "Not to mention my appearance. I look like I just rolled out of bed." Jumin glanced at me as I leaned against one of the machines. Thinking more about it I didn't really know anything about V's father. All V had ever told me was that he owned various galleries and other art business. He seemed like a very serious man from what I saw of him. I had never met anyone's parents before. Hell I wasn't even used to the people in my life having parents, let alone such serious ones.

"I don't really see what your appearance has to do with it. You're in a hospital so you're not expected to be dressed in a professional manner." He began trying to put a fifty dollar bill into the vending machine only to have it spat back out.

"Says the man in a suit who is trying to put a fifty dollar bill into a vending machine." I rolled my eyes and handed him a one dollar bill instead. "Use this and then punch in the letter and number of the item you want. I can't believe you've never used a vending machine before." He followed my instructions and seemed almost amazed.

"It's not something I've come across before now. As for the way I'm dressed, it's not necessarily by choice. I was at the office all morning so I didn't really have time to change. Not to mention reporters are still following me ever since it leaked that you're staying at the penthouse." His face had become annoyed as he reached down for his snack. I didn't blame him for being annoyed. Those gossip articles had been such a pain by saying that I was dating Jumin. They all started when Jumin came to the shops grand opening ceremony and offered me a ride home. Even though V was there with me one of the reporters twisted it to look like I was dating Jumin. Ever since then he was constantly being bugged by reporters about it. That's part of the many reasons V's operation was at a hospital two towns away.

"Yeah but my point still stands. You say first impressions matter all the time." We had began walking back towards the room and Jumin was pouting.

"They matter in business. You know that's what I said. This is hardly business. Just don't worry about V's father. Once he actually meets you and talks to you I'm sure you'll charm him." As if on cue we saw V's father leaving the room and heading towards us. He stopped in front of us and shook hands with Jumin.

"It was good to see you Jumin. Tell your father I said hello."

"I will. Also I'm not sure if you were aware but this is MC, Jihyun's girlfriend. She's a very talented web designer and artist." Jumin gestured to me and V's father reached his hand out to me. Just pretend he's a potential client, I said to myself in my head. I shook his hand and smiled at him.

"It's very nice to finally meet you sir." His handshake was firm and he didn't return my smile. He gaze was so stern and I felt like he was judging me. Inside I was freaking out but I somehow managed to hold it together. When he let go of my hand he didn't bother to say anything else as he moved past us. Once he was out of sight I let out a breath. "Well that was interesting. I honestly couldn't tell if he liked me or not." I opened the door to V's room and saw a nurse in there holding some papers. She was obvious to us coming in as she sat on the bed next to V and handed him the papers. It may of just been my insecurities but her hands seemed to linger a bit too long when she did it. I listened to her as she read everything on the papers to V and even as she giggled at some of his comments. Then she put her hand on V's shoulder and kept it there. I cleared my throat and she jumped off the bed. V smiled in my direction

"I was wondering how long you were going to stand there Darling." I couldn't see his eyes but he was clearly amused which means he knew the nurse was flirting with him. I walked over to V and kissed the top of his head. The nurse and I locked eyes but she didn't seem to be intimidated by me. She then bent over and was very close to V's face.

"And lastly here's my personal number if you ever have any questions. You can call me anytime." She shot me one last look and strut out of the room, almost as if she thought she had won. I gently took the papers from V and sneered at the number.

"Well we definitely won't be needing that number." I said scratching it out with a pen. I heard V laugh and I glared at him.

"MC are you jealous?" I blushed at his accusation and held the papers close to my face.

"No! She was just obnoxiously flirting with my boyfriend instead of doing her job." I had never been jealous of anyone in my life and I wasn't about to admit it had just happened, at least not with Jumin there. "So are you all set to leave now?" I was desperate to change the subject.

"Yes as long as you're willing to help me leave." He held out his hands and I helped him up. "I'm supposed to wait for them to bring a wheelchair but we can avoid that if we hurry."

"Alright." Jumin opened the door for us and we headed out. When we finally got to the lobby I really needed to pee. "Jumin can you help V to the car? I need to use the restroom before we leave." Jumin nodded at me and guided V to the car. I walked over to the sign that showed where the restroom was but they were closed for cleaning. I let out a sigh and began to head back to an entrance when I felt someone tug on my arm. It was man about Saeyoung's height with ashy blonde hair. "Do I know you?" I asked trying to pull my arm back. The man just looked at me and and tightened his grip on my arm.

"No but I know very well who you are. We really need to talk so you should just come with me." This time I jerked my arm away and stepped back from him.

"Why the hell would I do that? I don't even know you and my ride is waiting on me." My heart was beginning to race and this guys serious stare didn't help. He stepped closer and whispered in my ear.

"Because if you don't come with me then your car is going to crash and they'll take you by force. Jake knows you're here and I'm supposed to take you to him." I immediately tensed at his words. "Don't worry I'm not going to follow through with my orders. Just call the CEO and tell him you met an old friend. Once you know they're safely home I'll let you go and tell Jake that you got away. You've been training with Jane right?"

"How do I know I can trust you?" My throat was so tight that the words barely came out. The guy let out a sigh and I could tell he was getting frustrated.

"Let's just say that I don't like Jake and I owe Jane a favor. Now make the call before the guy who came with me comes over to make you comply. I'll tell you more once we're in my car. Now make the call." He had grabbed my arm again and was squeezing it. My brain was screaming to kick him and run away but if there was even a chance of V getting hurt I wasn't going to risk it. I pulled out my phone and called Jumin.

"Hey Jumin. I ran into an old classmate from school so I'm going to catch up with him. Go ahead and take V back to the penthouse.

"Are you sure MC? Do you want me to send a car back fro you?" I could hear V's voice in the background asking questions. It broke my heart to lie to them but I had no choice.

"No they'll bring me back after it's done. Just let me know when you guys get back to the penthouse. Tell V I love him if you don't mind."

"I will. Please let me know if you need a car or anything else. Goodbye."

"Good bye." I hung up the phone and the guy began to drag me towards the parking garage. "Do I at least get to know the name of my kidnapper?" We stopped next to a black car and he faced me.

"It's Gavin. Now be quite and just do what I tell you to." He opened the trunk of the car and pulled out a roll of duct tape and a a blind fold. "Don't worry I'll let you out as soon as I can. Now turn around." I did as he said and he put the blind over my eyes. He took my hands and folded them behind my back and I felt him tape them together. My heart was going nuts and I was beginning to panic. He walked me around the car a bit and I heard the door open. "Lay down. Jake's going to call soon so act scared."

"Like that's hard to do." I said as he closed the car door. I heard it open again as he settled into the front seat.

"Oh I almost forgot about your mouth. It will look suspicous if I don't." I tried to sawllow the knot in my throat as he pressed the tape on to my mouth. It was quite for a moment before I heard the car door open again and heard a new voice.

"Damn that Ricky is a pain. He left with a damn nurse and took the keys with him. So did you get the girl?"

"She's in the back seat. I'm just waiting on the boss to call and check in. What am I supposed to do with you? Boss said only I should go to the safe house cause three will look suspicious." The frustration in Gavin's voice was obvious.

"I guess you'll have to ask him." He let out whistle and I felt someone move hair out of my face. I instantly moved away and the new voice laughed. "Damn she's hot. Think the boss will let us as some fun with her before he comes to get her?" He sounded almost excited and a whimper escaped me.

"I guess you'll have to ask him. For now just leave her alone. She belongs to the boss."

"I know but nothing turns me on more that a tied up girl. They just look so helpless." I didn't know who this other guy was but I could tell that he was as sick as Jake. I also knew that Jake had no problem sharing me with his 'friends' as long as he got his hands on me. While I was lost in my thoughts Gavin's phone began to rind and snapped me out of it.

"Hey boss. I got the girl but Ricky ditched Nathan. Should I still go to the safe house?"

"Let me see her." Jake's voice shot through me like cold steel. My breathing became erratic and I didn't feel like I was getting enough air. "Perfect. Take her to the safe house and I'll meet you there in three hours. You two may do with her as you please until I get there. Just don't over do it."

"Alight! You're the best boss. I promise not to break her before you get there." Nathan was laughing as the car began to move. I still didn't know if I could trust what Gavin said but it looked like now I had no choice. I just hoped he could get me out of there before Nathan got to me.

#mystic messenger #fanfiction #my writiting #jihyun kim #jumin han #v x mc #20sob #20sob ch23

[thesims4blogger]

Popular website Kotaku also pointed out some cosmetic issues with some of the newest skin tones, prompting questions on the quality of content. FYI: There's a fix available for the recently released skin tones 👉http://motherofdeathclaws.t... …

Majority of the people praising this new update just want to be acknowledged by the team and sponsored one day. If this has nothing to do with you, then stay out of it. Releasing 5+ black skintones without the knowledge of undertones is ridiculous in 2018.

— DeeSims (@DeeSimsYT)

February 7, 2018

Hire a multi-cultural designer/technician, a person of color, who can enlighten, educated, and develop content that respresnts everyone. After all this is a life simulated game and I can't even create myself due to the ignorant limitations.

— DeeSims (@DeeSimsYT)

February 7, 2018

I can't hold my tongue about how I feel about this game. I have played it for over 10 years and even as a little black girl I struggle seeing me within this game. My Gma always said if you have a following, use it for the good of everyone. SO IM DOINH JUST THAT GRANDMA 🙏🏾

— DeeSims (@DeeSimsYT)

February 7, 2018

The Sims team is Tiring They give you some Ashy ass skin and feel like you should be happy, You don't even get different options though, But yet They have colors of the rainbow as skin 🤔 Something isn't right here .

— Simply Ruby (@SimplyRuby)

February 7, 2018

I have been playing this game for 14 years. I have a journal from the 5th grade where I wrote that I wanted to work for Maxis and create sims games when I grew up. This is 1000% NOT how you treat loyal consumers. @TheSims @SimGuruDrake @SimGuruRomeo @SimGuruGraham @SimGuruSteve https://t.co/foyMy0guIJ

— Christina Shine (@Miekoh_)

February 7, 2018

And that was AWESOME. But still. We get 1 or 2 random “ethnic” hairstyles and overly red and grey “dark skinned” tones. We have to do better. If cc creators have for years I don’t really see a reason why we can’t get this from the team directly.

— Christina Shine (@Miekoh_)

February 7, 2018

The facts are that the Sims 4 devs would rather troll & fail on the transparency front, & water down any decent gameplay or items that we do get. You’re a company. Expect customers to not be satisfied with your product. But as long as you’re getting my $— I will not be silenced.

— Cece (@CecePlays_)

February 7, 2018

They might be too different things but it kind of makes me think of make up shades. Everyone wants to feel represented. Its said that people have to wait for updates on something that should've been avaliable for a long time

— hunter hoe (@luxuricus)

February 7, 2018

Okay. I don't normally jump into conversations like this but we had to do a complete system overhaul for the update we did to CAS which took a lot of time. We also spent a lot of time working with GLAAD to make sure it was done in a tasteful and inclusive way.

— Drake (@SimGuruDrake)

February 7, 2018

We are big on being inclusive and trying to get content in for all members of the community to feel they can create themselves/friends/family more accurately and we constantly listen to feedback from the community. It may not be at the speed people want but we still try.

— Drake (@SimGuruDrake)

February 7, 2018

All we ask is for folks to provide us with feedback for what they want to see in the game in a constructive manner. If you have specific examples (photos, videos, etc) then even better! Being able to visually see examples of hairstyles, clothing, skin tones, etc is really helpful

— Drake (@SimGuruDrake)

February 7, 2018

Why do we have to give you photos of what people of color look like in order for us to be represented in a game? Do you not know what we look like? This makes no sense.

— Christina Shine (@Miekoh_)

February 7, 2018

Why do the black gamers have to show you pictures, videos, hairstyles, textures that represent us? It’s 2018... did white gamers have to do that too? Because they are well represented in the game

— DeeSims (@DeeSimsYT)

February 7, 2018

Furthermore, in my opinion, a true attempt at inclusivity is simply googling. There are numerous CC creators who create representative content. Even reaching out to simmers such as @Xmiramira , @XureilaYT , @ForeignSimmer1 to name a few to ask for input.

— Christina Shine (@Miekoh_)

February 7, 2018

A few things: Following size isn’t a factor when we listen to feedback. This isn’t about “reminding” us about anything. This is more of a conversation between us and all of you. It is easy to google but it’s much better to have these conversations.

— Drake (@SimGuruDrake)

February 7, 2018

Agreed. But what i'm saying is non-dark toned consumers don't have to have a conversation in order for their hair types and skin colors to be accurately represented. It's done. That's why it feels like we have to "remind" you all. Because it really does seem like we are forgotten

— Christina Shine (@Miekoh_)

February 7, 2018

2nd in this day and age I don't think the burden should be on people of color and other minority groups to pressure companies for inclusivity. You know we exist, you know we are apart of your consumer market. Why do we have to remind "you" to not forget about us.

— Christina Shine (@Miekoh_)

February 7, 2018

I’ve seen folks try to tear apart Megs when she asked what you want to see and I saw folks who said they didn’t want to talk to us at all because they didn’t want us to add in stuff to “profit” off of. Also looking at CC doesn’t give us a full picture for certain hair styles

— Drake (@SimGuruDrake)

February 7, 2018

Since we have to stay within our art style is is more helpful to have real world examples to base content off of, especially for hair textures.

— Drake (@SimGuruDrake) February 7, 2018

#news #the sims 4 #ts4 #sims 4

[symbianosgames]

Kate Walker has been in a wooly limbo for far, far too long, but at last her tale comes to the last panel of its triptych. Syberia 3 is slated to be released on April 25th, finally, after years of delays and funding problems. When we last saw our intrepid lawyer-turned-adventurer, the year was 2004 and her mobile phone was a barbaric monochrome affair that only worked as a phone. But, mercifully, the will to tell this never flamed out and we now have a Syberia installment for our times. 

If the preview I was given at GDC 2017 is any indication, we’re due for a fascinating story that might just be worth a thirteen year wait--and far from feeling like a dated throwback to a long-dead era of gaming, it’s surprisingly timely.

I looked at a section of the game that was about two thirds of the way through the story--for this I was but a passenger, scribbling my notes away. But I was able to actually get my hands on the game for the prologue and found the controls to be a thoughtfully designed puzzle in their own right.

We still have the same adventure game experience that fans of the series might expect, with items to collect, and plots advanced through Byzantine puzzles. Benoit Sokal’s delicately surreal sensibility once again spills out into a painterly world just to the side of our own. The subtitles are still that distinctive handwritten print that is also very much Sokal’s. But there are new ways of interacting with puzzles that are meant to use a full range of motion to simulate various actions.

For instance, one early puzzle saw me find a knife to use as a screwdriver to open up a control box for a switch. I was using a PS4 remote and I found I had to use all 360 degrees of control stick motion to turn the screwdriver, open and close the panel, and insert a fuse. It’s meant to imitate intuitive physical motion--"how would you interact with this object if you were actually there with it?", rather than “how would I poke at this in a videogame?” It takes some getting used to, but it has a lot of promise.

***

Of even greater importance to me is Kate Walker’s story, however. I spoke to Benoit Sokal directly about this; Walker was, after all, an example of a woman whose quest for her own independence was central to the story of the very first game. She showed what kinds of stories videogames could tell if they weren’t shackled to convention, and how a narrative of women’s liberation was not inimical to the production of a good, challenging game. 

More than anything, she embodied the idea that a woman’s quest for wonder and meaning in her life was ideal for a fantastical story. So where does Syberia 3 take her? Sokal offered a few tantalizing hints.

The themes of Kate Walker’s story in this installment will center on doubt, particularly “starting to make Kate a bit darker,” in Sokal’s words. He said that he wanted to “deconstruct” her and her character in this narrative, making the most of the transformative forces that carried her through the first two games. She gave up everything in the first game--a good job, a socially advantageous marriage, her home in New York--to pursue a dream in mythic Syberia: finding a lost heir, seeing the land where mammoths still roam, and rescuing a civilization under siege. Sokal also alluded to “questions about her sexuality” that may come up in the narrative but gave few additional details. What he wanted above all was to make her story more complex. 

When I took control of the game to play the prologue, she was true to form, staring down powerful men who did their damndest to make her feel foolish and weak. We find her recovering from mortal injuries in a Syberian hospital-cum-asylum, having to prove her good health to a scrutinizing scold of a doctor who tells her “you’re one of the very last representatives of a world that is fast disappearing, Ms. Walker... that no one will miss.” There are fully voiced dialogue options--voice actor Sharon Mann makes an enthusiastic and triumphant return as Kate Walker; hers is a voice that reaches across the years, stirring more than a little nostalgia for the earlier titles. But Kate’s role here is to look forward more than ever.

“Syberia 3 is about Kate’s future,” Sokal told me, “while 1 and 2 were about her past.”

That future is about deciding who she is now. More than ever, there seems to be no going back to New York. Even her traveling clothes, from the strange device she wears around her neck to her homemade snow boots, are now more of that fantastic world beyond the veil than her old life. 

***

As I played through the game I felt a range of familiar sensations come back: it really was like the old Syberias but with a rich graphical and control update.

Syberia 3 is a game that truly benefits from its lavish graphical upgrades; Benoit Sokal’s vision takes flight here as his gorgeous drawings and paintings come to life with hitherto unmatched fidelity. The world through which Kate Walker learns and grows is one that bores like a tunnel through everything we think we know, a dreamscape that assembles the familiar into beautifully strange gardens.

The mid-game level I was shown by a Microid’s developer takes place in Sokal’s vision of Pripyat, Ukraine--the ghost city that once housed Chernobyl’s workers and families. You and a band of Syberian tribespeople known as the Youkols are making your way through abandoned Metro tunnels, but come across an impasse that requires you to send an automaton to the irradiated surface to find the tools to clear it. Throughout the game you see desiccated or decaying Socialist realism, just as you did in the other installments. I asked why that aesthetic seemed to fascinate Sokal.

He talked about wanting to make a world “fantastique et monstreuse,” and that the “paradox of Soviet civilization,” which his Ukrainian family grew up with, was ideal for exploring that blend of fantastic and monstrous.

“[Pripyat] has become paradise on Earth for the wolf packs prowling about the buildings,” he said. “There are ruins where the vegetation is sprouting everywhere you look and where you can see bison wandering the streets. The place is both horrible and fantastic. The contrast between such terrible misfortune and the abandoned beauty is inspiring.” One of Pripyat’s most iconic places, the abandoned amusement park, is given new life in its Syberia 3 counterpart, Baranour.

The brutal realism of Soviet architecture contains its own beauty, even as the fires of its industries devastated countrysides; but there was also beauty in the stark contrast between that pollution and the ways in which nature endured. Sokal spoke of a childhood memory where he beheld “little white flowers blooming on the trees amid a sooty countryside, blackened by factories.” It is, he said, “the most horrific and amazing background for that little white flower.” That image, which he calls a paradox, inspired much of the art direction for the series.

In Syberia 1, Kate Walker dynamiting a massive statue of Soviet Man blocking the railroad tracks was almost painfully on the nose in its gender and political commentary, leaving behind a dead factory and cosmodrome where a drunk cosmonaut finally achieved his dream of going to space. In each game, Walker explores dreamscapes of ruin that echo what many Russians and Eastern Europeans saw over the last two decades. Fallen statues, fallow fields, cold and empty factories, ashy dachas. In finding the beauty of these places, Sokal uses them as a seedbed for the wondrous fantasies Kate Walker discovers; aviaries, beautiful forests, waterfalls, icy wonderlands where mammoths herd together. 

That white flower of beauty persists and blooms into something all the more enchanted in Syberia 3, and as with Dragon Age’s Morrigan, Walker makes it her mission to learn about and protect what is magical in this world against the final revenge of the machines.

***

That theme emerges in a surprisingly timely form. The overall thrust of Syberia 3 was described to me by one of the Microids developers thusly: Walker and the Youkol people, whose nomadic way of life has been dictated by the migrations of sacred snow-ostriches, are trying to flee from fascists who are attempting to assimilate them into a sedentary, “civilized” way of life. The Youkols’ culture is the “fast disappearing world” that Walker’s condescending doctor spoke of, after all. In the face of that, she becomes an outlaw to help the Youkols, hunted by the regime and a private detective who will stop at nothing to put their march across Syberia to an end.

Walker must endure all of this and make critical choices as she helps lead the Youkols and their snow-ostriches to “the promised land.”

Syberia has always been about journeys, and this tale of fascists trying to stop a religious minority from enjoying the transformative power of travel is gut-wrenchingly current. That pursuit of freedom through motion is a theme from Sokal’s own life. “The story of Europe is just that,” he said, “wandering from country to country. In Syberia you see my story of the 20th Century, traveling by train.” He referred to the memorable train journey that defined Walker’s alchemical trip through the first game, adding “the train of Syberia is the train of Europe.” He envisions it as a spinal throughline, connecting cultures and changing people in a world where another country and another language were an hour away by rail, even in a Europe divided by walls.

Now, powerful forces wearing uniforms and flying in rusty Sikorsky attack helicopters conspire to end the journey of Walker and the Youkols; the stakes are higher, as they should be for the last entry in a trilogy. But from what I saw in the bits of the game I had access to, it’s not so heavy-handed as to turn the meditative and cerebral Syberia series into an explosive action-adventure hellscape. 

The theme and feel of the series endures; perhaps like a white rose.

Katherine Cross is a Ph.D student in sociology who researches anti-social behavior online, and a gaming critic whose work has appeared in numerous publications.

#IFTTT #Blogger

[symbianosgames]

Kate Walker has been in a wooly limbo for far, far too long, but at last her tale comes to the last panel of its triptych. Syberia 3 is slated to be released on April 25th, finally, after years of delays and funding problems. When we last saw our intrepid lawyer-turned-adventurer, the year was 2004 and her mobile phone was a barbaric monochrome affair that only worked as a phone. But, mercifully, the will to tell this never flamed out and we now have a Syberia installment for our times. 

If the preview I was given at GDC 2017 is any indication, we’re due for a fascinating story that might just be worth a thirteen year wait--and far from feeling like a dated throwback to a long-dead era of gaming, it’s surprisingly timely.

I looked at a section of the game that was about two thirds of the way through the story--for this I was but a passenger, scribbling my notes away. But I was able to actually get my hands on the game for the prologue and found the controls to be a thoughtfully designed puzzle in their own right.

We still have the same adventure game experience that fans of the series might expect, with items to collect, and plots advanced through Byzantine puzzles. Benoit Sokal’s delicately surreal sensibility once again spills out into a painterly world just to the side of our own. The subtitles are still that distinctive handwritten print that is also very much Sokal’s. But there are new ways of interacting with puzzles that are meant to use a full range of motion to simulate various actions.

For instance, one early puzzle saw me find a knife to use as a screwdriver to open up a control box for a switch. I was using a PS4 remote and I found I had to use all 360 degrees of control stick motion to turn the screwdriver, open and close the panel, and insert a fuse. It’s meant to imitate intuitive physical motion--"how would you interact with this object if you were actually there with it?", rather than “how would I poke at this in a videogame?” It takes some getting used to, but it has a lot of promise.

***

Of even greater importance to me is Kate Walker’s story, however. I spoke to Benoit Sokal directly about this; Walker was, after all, an example of a woman whose quest for her own independence was central to the story of the very first game. She showed what kinds of stories videogames could tell if they weren’t shackled to convention, and how a narrative of women’s liberation was not inimical to the production of a good, challenging game. 

More than anything, she embodied the idea that a woman’s quest for wonder and meaning in her life was ideal for a fantastical story. So where does Syberia 3 take her? Sokal offered a few tantalizing hints.

The themes of Kate Walker’s story in this installment will center on doubt, particularly “starting to make Kate a bit darker,” in Sokal’s words. He said that he wanted to “deconstruct” her and her character in this narrative, making the most of the transformative forces that carried her through the first two games. She gave up everything in the first game--a good job, a socially advantageous marriage, her home in New York--to pursue a dream in mythic Syberia: finding a lost heir, seeing the land where mammoths still roam, and rescuing a civilization under siege. Sokal also alluded to “questions about her sexuality” that may come up in the narrative but gave few additional details. What he wanted above all was to make her story more complex. 

When I took control of the game to play the prologue, she was true to form, staring down powerful men who did their damndest to make her feel foolish and weak. We find her recovering from mortal injuries in a Syberian hospital-cum-asylum, having to prove her good health to a scrutinizing scold of a doctor who tells her “you’re one of the very last representatives of a world that is fast disappearing, Ms. Walker... that no one will miss.” There are fully voiced dialogue options--voice actor Sharon Mann makes an enthusiastic and triumphant return as Kate Walker; hers is a voice that reaches across the years, stirring more than a little nostalgia for the earlier titles. But Kate’s role here is to look forward more than ever.

“Syberia 3 is about Kate’s future,” Sokal told me, “while 1 and 2 were about her past.”

That future is about deciding who she is now. More than ever, there seems to be no going back to New York. Even her traveling clothes, from the strange device she wears around her neck to her homemade snow boots, are now more of that fantastic world beyond the veil than her old life. 

***

As I played through the game I felt a range of familiar sensations come back: it really was like the old Syberias but with a rich graphical and control update.

Syberia 3 is a game that truly benefits from its lavish graphical upgrades; Benoit Sokal’s vision takes flight here as his gorgeous drawings and paintings come to life with hitherto unmatched fidelity. The world through which Kate Walker learns and grows is one that bores like a tunnel through everything we think we know, a dreamscape that assembles the familiar into beautifully strange gardens.

The mid-game level I was shown by a Microid’s developer takes place in Sokal’s vision of Pripyat, Ukraine--the ghost city that once housed Chernobyl’s workers and families. You and a band of Syberian tribespeople known as the Youkols are making your way through abandoned Metro tunnels, but come across an impasse that requires you to send an automaton to the irradiated surface to find the tools to clear it. Throughout the game you see desiccated or decaying Socialist realism, just as you did in the other installments. I asked why that aesthetic seemed to fascinate Sokal.

He talked about wanting to make a world “fantastique et monstreuse,” and that the “paradox of Soviet civilization,” which his Ukrainian family grew up with, was ideal for exploring that blend of fantastic and monstrous.

“[Pripyat] has become paradise on Earth for the wolf packs prowling about the buildings,” he said. “There are ruins where the vegetation is sprouting everywhere you look and where you can see bison wandering the streets. The place is both horrible and fantastic. The contrast between such terrible misfortune and the abandoned beauty is inspiring.” One of Pripyat’s most iconic places, the abandoned amusement park, is given new life in its Syberia 3 counterpart, Baranour.

The brutal realism of Soviet architecture contains its own beauty, even as the fires of its industries devastated countrysides; but there was also beauty in the stark contrast between that pollution and the ways in which nature endured. Sokal spoke of a childhood memory where he beheld “little white flowers blooming on the trees amid a sooty countryside, blackened by factories.” It is, he said, “the most horrific and amazing background for that little white flower.” That image, which he calls a paradox, inspired much of the art direction for the series.

In Syberia 1, Kate Walker dynamiting a massive statue of Soviet Man blocking the railroad tracks was almost painfully on the nose in its gender and political commentary, leaving behind a dead factory and cosmodrome where a drunk cosmonaut finally achieved his dream of going to space. In each game, Walker explores dreamscapes of ruin that echo what many Russians and Eastern Europeans saw over the last two decades. Fallen statues, fallow fields, cold and empty factories, ashy dachas. In finding the beauty of these places, Sokal uses them as a seedbed for the wondrous fantasies Kate Walker discovers; aviaries, beautiful forests, waterfalls, icy wonderlands where mammoths herd together. 

That white flower of beauty persists and blooms into something all the more enchanted in Syberia 3, and as with Dragon Age’s Morrigan, Walker makes it her mission to learn about and protect what is magical in this world against the final revenge of the machines.

***

That theme emerges in a surprisingly timely form. The overall thrust of Syberia 3 was described to me by one of the Microids developers thusly: Walker and the Youkol people, whose nomadic way of life has been dictated by the migrations of sacred snow-ostriches, are trying to flee from fascists who are attempting to assimilate them into a sedentary, “civilized” way of life. The Youkols’ culture is the “fast disappearing world” that Walker’s condescending doctor spoke of, after all. In the face of that, she becomes an outlaw to help the Youkols, hunted by the regime and a private detective who will stop at nothing to put their march across Syberia to an end.

Walker must endure all of this and make critical choices as she helps lead the Youkols and their snow-ostriches to “the promised land.”

Syberia has always been about journeys, and this tale of fascists trying to stop a religious minority from enjoying the transformative power of travel is gut-wrenchingly current. That pursuit of freedom through motion is a theme from Sokal’s own life. “The story of Europe is just that,” he said, “wandering from country to country. In Syberia you see my story of the 20th Century, traveling by train.” He referred to the memorable train journey that defined Walker’s alchemical trip through the first game, adding “the train of Syberia is the train of Europe.” He envisions it as a spinal throughline, connecting cultures and changing people in a world where another country and another language were an hour away by rail, even in a Europe divided by walls.

Now, powerful forces wearing uniforms and flying in rusty Sikorsky attack helicopters conspire to end the journey of Walker and the Youkols; the stakes are higher, as they should be for the last entry in a trilogy. But from what I saw in the bits of the game I had access to, it’s not so heavy-handed as to turn the meditative and cerebral Syberia series into an explosive action-adventure hellscape. 

The theme and feel of the series endures; perhaps like a white rose.

Katherine Cross is a Ph.D student in sociology who researches anti-social behavior online, and a gaming critic whose work has appeared in numerous publications.

#IFTTT #Blogger