random-user-guy

[random-user-guy]

After a week (or so) fighting with binksi, I have some sort of a prototype completed for the 2-Button Jam.

It's pretty short. You only use your up ( ^ ) and down ( v ) arrows to more the character, see the next bit of text, or make a choice. I've also added a downloadable option for this one for peeps who want to dive into the code, tinker with it, or use the tileset.

Anyway, this was loads of fun to do. So, I'll probably try to make more of them in the future :)

[random-user-guy]

You can play it here! (Demo description at the bottom of this post)

I developed this game as part of a Halloween Jam event. You can find all the game submissions here. They're a great way to get in the spirit of the holiday ^_^

Happy Halloween! I hope it's a great one for everyone ✨🧡🦇🔮

---

The Visitor and the Magician

Enter the wilds in the days of the aftermath of the Fey wars. Play as the Visitor, a human in pursuit of a goal of your choosing, or the Magician, the strange keeper of an even stranger realm. Face off in a game of wits to defeat your opponent, then play from the other side to save yourself.

[random-user-guy]

Update! 💕 (October 25,2023)

Hi, I'm C.C-she/her, and I make IF text-based games and Visual Novels. My favorite genres to write are horror, romance, and fantasy.

If you're into all that... below are my games and socials:

~~~~~~~~~~~Demo~~~~~~~Steam~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Demo~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~Demo~~~~Google Play~~~~Apple Store~~~~Steam~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~The Midnight Saga~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~Patreon~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~Ko-Fi~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[random-user-guy]

Back in 2021, when I first uploaded the demo for Citadel, I didn't really know what to expect. And, I have to say, this all still feels a little surreal.

But, what I know for sure is I'm so, so grateful for all of you. Thank you for playing my game, for sending in asks, for liking/reblogging my posts, and for cheering me on through medical school and now through residency. I can't emphasize enough that Citadel would not be possible without you.

As a 3,000 follower special, I’m putting 3 short snippets up for grabs.

If you like this post, you’ll be entered into the raffle once.

If you reblog this post, you’ll be entered into the raffle twice.

If you like and reblog, that's a total of 3 raffle entries!

Raffle will close Monday, October 23rd at 8:30 pm EST. Short snippets will be posted during the month of November.

And for those who might just be stumbling upon Citadel…

TUMBLR INTRO POST

DEMO || DISCORD || PATREON || KO-FI || AO3 ||FORUM||

Cheers!

-Bouncy

[random-user-guy]

A 1000+ followers celebration snippet

Wow. Seeing the follower count grow is ever the amazing feeling, and I am happy to have you all here! As a ✨thank you✨, I wanted to share a little excerpt f something that has been playing on my mind for quite some time, and I decided to write it down.

A version of this, albeit allowing for player input and variation, will likely end up in the game build at some point as a flashback. At the same time, chronologically, this already took place by the start of the game and shows the MCs first waking moments in the Tower. Presented as two nearly identical snippets for immersion purposes: one for Yves and one for Yvette.

Yves

The glow is soothing.

Then you wake up with a pop—and it is gone.

An onslaught on sensations: when a sliver of light slips between your lashes it explodes in a ball of white fire, serrated knife brought to your eyes; a whimper tugs at your throat, a dry sound trapped within dry walls; your fingers crack out of ice, solid and then slowly yielding, scrapping some soft padding.

"Right. Will do," you hear. Voice ripping through the fog with effort, distorted but decisive.

Is it good news for you? A voice that has left you alone.

For now.

It is light, chill and dry in here. Smells like herbs when you are left craving for the biting taste of salt on your lips. A surface hugs the line of your spine, supports the lifeless limbs you try to move but find it hard to. Soft. You could be cold, but you are not feeling it.

Your movement, small as it is, sends vibrations out. There is sudden stillness, you fighting through the fog to see. Strain sits around your neck, pushing down, revolting against your need to make yourself heard, against your need for answers.

"You are awake." Another voice, it seems. Scruffier. Deeper. Older. "Good."

He does not specify, but does he need to? With you prone, the only good there can be is his. Or his companions'—he is not alone.

The thought is uncomfortable: more thrashing, ceiling swimming out to meet you like a lake floor in a dive. Your eye prickle.

"You ought to be at ease." He notices. You halt, if only to hear better. "You are not hurt, your body simply needs some time."

He speaks as if you were fragile, but you are not—except…you feel like you are. Cracked and stitched together, folds and seams still raw, untested. Tender. Most of all in your head.

Someone clears their throat, not to rush you, perhaps, but your eyes clear up nonetheless. Neck rusty, a prickling ball rolls around in your throat.

Three on one. Such unfortunate odds. But maybe?.. Could someone here be on your side?

Would they?

You look at the faces, hazy as they are, at the figures. All standing up in attention that should be, by their design, non-imposing, but when you are the only one lying down it is anything but. There is one in the far corner, perched on a desk, white so close to their face it stings. They move when you scowl, a tilt of their head and a scrutinizing gaze you cannot help but feel. Maybe it should ring the alarming bells, but it doesn't.

Something rustles.

A man in a weathered cloak—that's two, you follow with your eyes alone—outstretches a hand from between the folds of his garment, effortlessly, like it was him that placed it here in the first place, finds a jug and pours water into a mug. The streaming sound is almost as pleasant as a thought of water cracking down the ashen walls of your throat.

He hands the cup to a man, one who has been standing hunched in a corner, odd with his unkempt beard; carefully holding the bottom, he slowly places it in the unsuspecting hands.

The man is poor of sight, you guess, if he has it at all.

Why him then?

You briefly look at the man, only to find him returning the attention. The sharp lines of his face are clearer now, with him coming closer, hair falling around his face in untended strands. Something sizzles in those eyes, and you hope for it to be mere curiosity. He has a look of a traveler to him, maybe of a person that found you.

Found you where?

Found…wh—

The other man blocks your view, bringing you the coveted water. You take a closer look at his unfocused eyes. Another stranger. At least his manner is gentle, as if he knows, as if he can tell about the ripples moving through your body as you instinctively reach to support the mug. There is no rush, not from him.

He lets you go when you are done and lingers by your side. Your mind is swarmed with questions, but only a strangled cough escapes your lips, which is not all that bad given how you started.

"Would you tell me your name?" he asks, taking your silence for confusion.

Huh.

A hectic breath rushes to your defence, the ifs and shoulds completely occluded by the rapidly fizzing thought that locks your tongue. You should know. Even if you choose not to answer, you should know. But the place where you search is unbelievably fuzzy, a white slog that your attempts sink into with alarming ease. That spot is soft, softer than your cot even, terrifyingly soft.

"I don't…" Admittance escapes from your heavy chest.

You hear a quiet, weary sigh like it comes from another life.

Yvette

The glow is soothing.

Then you wake up with a pop—and it is gone.

An onslaught on sensations: when a sliver of light slips between your lashes it explodes in a ball of white fire, serrated knife brought to your eyes; a whimper tugs at your throat, a dry sound trapped within dry walls; your fingers crack out of ice, solid and then slowly yielding, scrapping some soft padding.

"Right. Will do," you hear. Voice ripping through the fog with effort, distorted but decisive.

Is it good news for you? A voice that has left you alone.

For now.

It is light, chill and dry in here. Smells like herbs when you are left craving for the biting taste of salt on your lips. A surface hugs the line of your spine, supports the lifeless limbs you try to move but find it hard to. Soft. You could be cold, but you are not feeling it.

Your movement, small as it is, sends vibrations out. There is sudden stillness, you fighting through the fog to see. Strain sits around your neck, pushing down, revolting against your need to make yourself heard, against your need for answers.

"You are awake." Another voice, it seems. Scruffier. Deeper. Older. "Good."

He does not specify, but does he need to? With you prone, the only good there can be is his. Or his companions'—he is not alone.

The thought is uncomfortable: more thrashing, ceiling swimming out to meet you like a lake floor in a dive. Your eye prickle.

"You ought to be at ease." He notices. You halt, if only to hear better. "You are not hurt, your body simply needs some time."

He speaks as if you were fragile, but you are not—except…you feel like you are. Cracked and stitched together, folds and seams still raw, untested. Tender. Most of all in your head.

Someone clears their throat, not to rush you, perhaps, but your eyes clear up nonetheless. Neck rusty, a prickling ball rolls around in your throat.

Three on one. Such unfortunate odds. But maybe?.. Could someone here be on your side?

Would they?

You look at the faces, hazy as they are, at the figures. All standing up in attention that should be, by their design, non-imposing, but when you are the only one lying down it is anything but. There is one in the far corner, perched on a desk, white so close to their face it stings. They move when you scowl, a tilt of their head and a scrutinizing gaze you cannot help but feel. Maybe it should ring the alarming bells, but it doesn't.

Something rustles.

A woman in a weathered cloak—that's two, you follow with your eyes alone—outstretches a hand from between the folds of her garment, effortlessly, like it was her that placed it here in the first place, finds a jug and pours water into a mug. The streaming sound is almost as pleasant as a thought of water cracking down the ashen walls of your throat.

She hands the cup to a man, one who has been standing hunched in a corner, odd with his unkempt beard; carefully holding the bottom, she slowly places it in the unsuspecting hands.

The man is poor of sight, you guess, if he has it at all.

Why him then?

You briefly look at the woman, only to find her returning the attention. The sharp lines of her face are clearer now, with her coming closer, hair falling around her face in untended strands. Something sizzles in those eyes, and you hope for it to be mere curiosity. She has a look of a traveler to her, maybe of a person that found you.

Found you where?

Found…wh—

The man blocks your view, bringing you the coveted water. You take a closer look at his unfocused eyes. Another stranger. At least his manner is gentle, as if he knows, as if he can tell about the ripples moving through your body as you instinctively reach to support the mug. There is no rush, not from him.

He lets you go when you are done and lingers by your side. Your mind is swarmed with questions, but only a strangled cough escapes your lips, which is not all that bad given how you started.

"Would you tell me your name?" he asks, taking your silence for confusion.

Huh.

A hectic breath rushes to your defence, the ifs and shoulds completely occluded by the rapidly fizzing thought that locks your tongue. You should know. Even if you choose not to answer, you should know. But the place where you search is unbelievably fuzzy, a white slog that your attempts sink into with alarming ease. That spot is soft, softer than your cot even, terrifyingly soft.

"I don't…" Admittance escapes from your heavy chest.

You hear a quiet, weary sigh like it comes from another life.

[random-user-guy]

Beneath the Mirror Tree

Chapter One TBA

“Shall I tell you the tale of the lady in red, Chrysanthemum?” 

The little girl looked up into the shadows, where they gathered thickest in the garden. A woman lay there, among the dying flowers and freshly turned earth. Her snowy white hair sprawled in waves around her, twigs and leaves caught in the locks. 

“I love that story,” the little girl replied. She came to sit by the woman. Her smile was bright enough to drive back the gloom. To gain the shadows’ curiosity. “Please, Mella, I am listening.”

Far below the fae realm lies the realm of the goblins. A place of broken glass, devoid of food and light. Mushroom forests dot the horizon while creatures tunnel above to a world they do not belong. When a fae princess and an eternal vampire fall into the goblin realm, they will need to rely on each other to survive. But no one escapes the goblin realm. Not without a price.

Beneath the Mirror Tree is a story written by Zinnia Demitasse and Poppy Mooreaux. It will be posted chapter by chapter with early release on Patreon.

[random-user-guy]

The First Generation

The First Generation of Operatives... (Would love to hear your thoughts on this list ;) )

001 "The First"

Redacted

002 "The Second"

Redacted

003 "Hex"

Cheerful and hyper-violent 003, or Hex, as her siblings have named her is a master of deception. Utilizing a mix of traps, holograms, and stealth armor, she has already shown herself as a dangerous foe, even against her siblings. One of the oldest Operatives, she has also adopted a big sister role to some of her more outcast kin. She displays affection by utilizing ambush hugs and gift-giving.

004 "Shrike"

Unlike most of his siblings, 004 was nicknamed Shrike by the staff here at the lab for his propensity to impale his opponents on premade hooks and left to die or decompose slowly. Competitive and energetic, he has developed a friendly rivalry with 003, whom he always seeks to upstage and harass at every opportunity.

005 "Ari"

Redacted

006 "Mamba"

Smaller and much shyer, similar to his younger sister 013, "Mamba" earned his name from his siblings much later than the others. Weaker and less adept at combat than his siblings, 006 was assigned to frontline duty, hoping to become a good soldier. On the frontlines, sporting light operative combat armor Mamba began using various poisons along with his weapons, earning him a reputation similar to his more prominent and more adept kin.

007 "Stalker"

A hunter, first and foremost, 007 is an expert tracker, often paired with the Heartbreaker Agency and assigned to hunt down their targets. Cautious and slow to trust, he mostly keeps to himself, though he has often been seen spending time with 008. He was last seen nine months after the disaster at Paradise, attempting to track down an unknown target in Commonwealth space...

008 "Nightingale"

Loyal to a fault, 008 has shown herself to be as talented at saving lives as taking them. Always carrying around a medical kit, 008 is constantly on the alert to help her fellow soldiers. Her dedication to those around her has come at a cost, as she will throw herself between those she cares about and danger. She is littered with old scars, including a robotic leg and metal plating in her back. Devastated at the loss she experienced on Paradise, Nightingale or Gale has become a shallow husk of her former self, shutting herself off from others, including her close friend 007.

Currently under observation at the lab.

009 "Mad Dog/ Maximillian"

One would not expect the words of a gentleman to fit the large and equally terrifying Operative. But 009, despite being an expert in messy close-quarters combat, is similarly interested in reading and studying the arts. Assigned as Prince Vasily's guard, the two are unusually close.

010 "Nyx"

Redacted

011 "Ceto"

011 or Ceto, is an expert in aquatic warfare, sporting a unique bright blue combat suit capable of diving into the depths of the galaxy's most dangerous water environments. Relatively friendly and calm, Ceto is loyal to the people of the Empire, above all else. She always professionally presents herself, making it easy for her to integrate with military personnel.

012 "Griffin"

Charismatic and manipulative, Griffin is as power-hungry as he is cruel. Appearing as an average human, 012 has shown themselves capable of manipulating those around him. A smooth voice and innocent smile have earned him many allies in the military, with most viewing him as a grand hero of the Empire. His siblings and those at the lab know the true face hidden behind his hero façade.

013 "The Doll/Little sister"

One of the smaller Operatives, 013, is a proficient hunter and tracker, preferring to let the enemy come to her. She sets traps and carefully scouts positions to fight in. Sporting an oddly flashy personality despite being one of few words she does like to show off when her older brothers and sisters are around, as well as collecting pieces of armor to add to her own, giving off a strange mix of color and armor types. Her armor possesses a form of audio mimicry, allowing her to mimic the voices of her opponents.

014 "The General"

Towering over most on the battlefield, 014 appears as a large shining knight with bulky, heavy armor and a large sword. Charismatic and friendly, this honorable knight has been given the rare honor of receiving an official rank within the army. He has an odd friendship with 015.

015 "Wendigo"

Seeking to finally create a true equal to 001 and 002, the Emperor forced 'Mother' to recreate the original recipe used on the first two. The result was 015. Sporting advanced close-quarter combat armor, this Operative was given the callsign Wendigo by the military and deployed to areas devoid of friendly forces. 015 has exhibited concerning tendencies. When first deployed, they modified their armors mask to have a sort of robotic jaw, which they use to 'consume' their victims ritualistically.

015 is affectionate to those they deem as worthy while mostly ignoring others as if they don't even exist.

[random-user-guy]

Game update

The Gray Ascendancy is a dark fantasy interactive fiction game where the flow is controlled by player's choice, set in the world of magic that is as capricious as its very first wielders. It tells a story of revenge, court intrigue, age-old ache, self-determination and agency, with the player straight at the core of it all. [learn more]

play on itch.io

In this release:

set out on a journey again, this time with no clear end in sight

act your way into traveling with the Daelan trio, on whatever terms

get assistance from the Gray Regent

spend an uncomfortable night

and maybe, just maybe, recall a fragment of your forgotten self...

Coming next:

settle into a nice inn

investigate a small town of Wyrm's Nest

get on the path of uncovering what plagues it, magical and human

for better or for worse, spend time with your new companions

Extra features:

the settings menu now offers another font and a selection between the light theme (the prior default) and the all-new dark theme!

tidied codex page that does not look so crammed

starring Secrets that you can collect, discover and use to your benefit. This mechanic will replace Achievements because the two overlap a little too much for my taste, and Secrets make more sense to me narratively.

relationship stats page is now available

an alternative font, configurable in the settings

character stat screen now shows respective numerical values on the personality/mastery bars

small restructuring: former Chapter 1 is now a Prologue, and this update kicks off Chapter 1

added a few more suggested dialogue choices to the prologue section

lots and lots of fixes to what is now the prologue

This update is about the size of all the previously released content, driving up the total to upwards of 70k words.

My recommendation is to replay the game from the beginning as I did some work on the stats. In theory, it should not break your saves as the update guesstimates the missing variables, but for the most intentional result you should start from scratch.

Huge thanks to the fantastic people that tested the game, scoured it for errors and typos!!

[random-user-guy]

Beta Testing opens

Now that the first half of Chapter 2 is undergoing the final touches (I am buzzing tbh), I would greatly appreciate some help in the department of tracking bugs, errors and general weirdness. There are many branches here, and many things are reliant on a multitude of previous choices, so assistance in traversing as many of these variations as possible would be of immense value.

If you are interested and willing, here is a brief form that serves primarily to establish contact: Beta Test Sign Up Link

I have set up a disc horse Discord server to that end, with majestic emotes and all that, which offers visibility and responsiveness in regards to reported issues. If (🥺) you sign up to help, I will be sending out the beta version link this weekend already.

[random-user-guy]

Book 2 Introduction

Alright everyone, the moment as come. Sort of.

So, I have the introduction for book 2 on my Patreon at the 5 dollar tier. It is a rough draft and the UI is not completed yet. However, I have been so stuck in book 1 with the coding and the patches that I want to hear from you guys. Get some inspo. This Intro is subject to change before the release of Chapter One. But, if you are curious, please go read. Then head on over to my discord to shout at me and give me some creative juices. I feed off of all of you. :)

🪷✨🪷✨ If you want to support me 🪷 ✨🪷✨ 

Demo 🌿Steam🌿Itch.io🌿 Patreon 🌿Discord🌿FAQS

[random-user-guy]

IF OC gallery no.2

Meet the contractor of the Seven Deadly Sins from @sevensdeadly-if, Perseus (his parents loved greek mythology a bit too much). Plans on wreaking havoc on the heavens and hell, effectively destroying the balance just like he was meant to.

"May God have mercy on you 'cause I won't"

(written by @manonamora-if)The Thick Table Tavern's mischievous bartender, Kate. The girl will mix strange things on your drink if you mess with her. Be careful.

medieval au Welhaven, the beloved human wife of Queen Adelaide from @julietandcinderella-if. Anyone you meet at court will sing her praises, yet a few nobles will speak of her ruthless scheming trait, where they think walls have no ears to spy on them 🙂

Leas: City of the Sun's (written by @sailingshellsgames) chaotic sword master agent from Den Zarel, . Loves causing trouble with the higher-ups and on missions, yet is a true professional on getting the job done at the last minute. Fiercely protective of Keo, he's thinking on how to remove the ridiculous laws/policies followed by the city for the fey.

The newest babysitter of the firecracker and lone wolf (Thalia and Serio), Marco from @thecompany-if. He's best friends with the mad scientist, Henry, due to shared interest in supernatural engineering science and lack of common sense. At first he tried to be more strict with his juniors, yet very soon started spoiling both of them, giving in to firecracker's wishes which generally gets all three in trouble with the boss, Zelek.

@infamous-if, the lead singer of Chaos Anthem, Maria. She's talented at singing and raising Orion's blood pressure due to her habit of almost always risking being late or a concert/interview etc.

William from @anjiefiction grieving over his fate and having flashbacks of what happened that night in his childhood.

Castiel studies on Lumintoille from @cheerstotheelites-if. His study habits and time management skills are impeccable, yet God knows how he manages to stay in such a messy bedroom 😔

The high-school version of the new teacher in @thankyoufortoday-if , Jake. Now he is totally different from before, though some habits have remained with him even at this stage of his life, including smoking (tried to quit for a while but it didn't work).

credits to artbreeder and picrew artists, i don’t own the art 

[random-user-guy]

Announcement

I am currently working on taking all the Patreon short stories from book 1, editing them, and adding more stories to them, to put as a DLC on Steam and Itch.io. @mooreaux is also doing art work for the dlc and that will be included. Announcement on that will be coming in the upcoming weeks but I wanted to give everyone a heads up that this is going to be part o your package. Kickstarter peeps, you will be sent a code for it if you joined the tier with the companion book included.

All said and done, the book itself comes out to about 375 pages (give or take because of it being finalized). Several never been published before stories will be in it. Along with all new art work that has not been seen before.

Zinnia

[random-user-guy]

It's been a while, so can we get some fluffy fluff about Emery and Fleur's relationship? I miss seeing those soft moments like when she put him to sleep in that drabble.

Ankle deep into dirt.

This is not how Fleur would describe her typical day.

Her pants are pulled up to her knees, sleeves of her button up blouse folded to her shoulders, and shoes lay neatly somewhere clean as she is barefoot on the grass. She wears a pair of gardening gloves with a sun hat on her head as one of her hands holds a bucket with a trowel inside

When Emery asked if he can help garden flower seeds, Fleur saw no harm in letting him join her.

She's already having so many regrets.

Emery, now covered head to toe in dirt (his arms and legs especially), proudly continues to dig into the dirt with his little, plastic trowel, flicking some dirt into the air as he does so.

"Emery," Fleur calls out, wincing when a bit of dirt landed on her cheek, to which she immediately wipes away, "I think that's enough holes."

The boy stops digging and looks up at her, head tilting in confusion. "But it's not enough for the flowers." He simply says, his brows furrowing a bit.

"Twenty is already enough." It takes everything within her not to sound exasperated. Patience, Fleur. Emery is a child. He is only doing his best. "You don't have to do more."

"Oh. Okay." Emery gives a small, simple nod, putting his trowel down and wiping his hands onto his already dirty shorts. "Does that mean we're gonna put the flowers now?"

"Yes, Emery. We're going to—" Fleur wasn't even able to let out a simple instruction before Emery is already up to his feet and running off to the picnic table, grabs a handful of random flower seed packets, and runs back with an excited grin.

He returns by her side, proudly presenting the seed packets to Fleur like a little offering. Brows furrowing, she takes the packets, squinting a bit to read the labels. Gods, she should've brought her reading glasses with her.

"Dandelions, marigolds, buttercups, and daisies." Fleur enumerates, raising a brow. She was originally planning to plant hydrangeas and hyacinths, but...

She glances down at Emery, who looks up at her the brightest smile on his face.

...

Dandelions, marigolds, buttercups, and daisies it is.

"Good enough." She says and pats Emery on the head, to which the boy beams at as he follows Fleur to the first hole, picking up his trowel along the way.

~•~•~

Fleur yawns into her hand as she busies herself on watering the freshly planted seeds with a metal watering can. The sun hang high in the afternoon sky, shining down its warm rays. Emery was a few feet away, doing the same as her though with a smaller, plastic watering can that's shaped like an elephant.

"Fleur, when will the flowers get big?" Emery asks, turning his head to look at her.

"3 months." Fleur answers, finishing up as she lowers her watering can.

"3 months?!" Emery exclaims, looking back at the dirt patch where the seeds were just planted, then back at Fleur with wide eyes. "That's forever! You said small flowers grows faster!"

"I didn't say that it's instant." Fleur huffs out a small laugh, walking off to the nearby garden shed to put away her gardening tools. She hears grass rustling behind her quickly, and a small audible hum of an annoyed little boy. "I'll tell you when they bloom, don't worry. You'll be the first to know."

"I can't wait that long!" Emery bemoans. There is a faint thump followed after Fleur puts the garden tools away. Turning around, Fleur sees Emery laying back on the grass with a big pout on his face. She closes the shed door, moving to his side and gets down onto her haunches.

"How about we do something else instead?" Fleur suggests.

"Like what?" Emery asks in a grumble.

"Taking a bath."

Immediately, Emery's nose scrunches in displeasure. "I don't like baths."

"You can't be dirty forever, Emery."

"Yes I can! The dirt will just come off in the rain, right? That's easier!"

Fleur frowns a bit, eyes squinting in thought. Well, more of one that's easy on the mind. Bribery is an easy feat to do, especially towards children, if you give them a favored and appealing reward.

"Alright, how about this," She looks back at Emery. "If you take a bath, I'll let you eat some ice cream I have in freezer."

"What flavor?" Emery questions with a squint.

Fleur hums in mock thought as she rubs her chin. "Well, I heard there is choco—"

"I'll take a bath!"

Finally.

Letting out a sigh of relief, Fleur straightens up. "Alright, let's—why are you still on the ground?"

"You said I'll just take a bath." A cheeky smile forms on Emery's little face. "Not go inside."

Why that little—

"Do you want me to carry you?" Fleur reluctantly asks.

"Yeah."

Sighing, once again, Fleur bends down, picking up Emery into her arms, adjusting her hold accordingly and cringing at the dirt now being passed onto her. It takes a lot of inner strength not to shudder.

"You're a mischevious one, aren't you." Fleur observes as she heads back inside, making Emery giggle.

"I'm just smart." Emery smugly states, crossing his arms proudly across his chest. Fleur only gives a sarcastic hum, to which he pouts and grumbles at.

[random-user-guy]

@cheerstotheelites-if

Last ones, I swear

Who is the goddess of slumber? Is she inspired by greek mythology too?

Does a dreamwalker have to have basic knowledge of brain biology/neurology?

Can dreamwalking be used for therapeutic purposes, such as helping people overcome nightmares or traumas? Has it been used before like this?

In Escapism, what happens if the dreamwalker gets out of the dimension they've summoned, leaving their ally or enemy there, but, they decide to get them out after some time? Can they access that same dimension, as long as there is someone inside it?

Can someone use dreamwalking while inside a dimension they've summoned?

*note: dreamwalking as in the category of dreamwalking magic

Could explain how dreamwalker works please?

Another Blessed Magic (don't ask why, I have reasons) from the goddess of slumber. It's a disorienting type of magic, not knowing what is real and what is a dream sometimes, and Dreamwalkers are prone to sleepwalk because of this. It's a powerful magic, if you know what you're doing.

This magic can be solely offensive, solely defensive, or escape magic, and it can change either way depending on the Magus. The current user of this magic uses this as both offensive and escape magic.

Escapism

Bois, we going to the shadow realm! (Not really)

No one has to be asleep for this

You travel to a dream-like pocket dimension of your making, dragging your enemy (or allies) with you

You can come back out with them, or you can just leave your enemies there for who knows how long

You are in control of the pocket dimension. Anything you will to do can happen there.

The pocket dimension isn't the same every time you summon one, however

Sleep Paralysis

I'd call you cruel for doing this

You can put anyone in a sleep paralysis for any amount of time that you desire

Anything the paralyzed person sees is induced in nightmare juice, and that even includes the people trying to help them get out of sleep paralysis!

Only you can bring the person out of sleep paralysis, if you want. But why would you?

Dreamwalk

This is why y'all are here, isn't it? To be an ass to your enemy for turning their good dream into a nightmare?

You'll know you're dreamwalking if you wake up again a moment later after sleeping, get up, start walking, and your room starts to stretch

You don't have much control in the other person's dream (that would make you a deity), but you can turn their once peaceful dream into a nightmare, or the reverse

However, you can interact with the dreamer of the dream. Easier way to communicate or relay information, if you don't want anyone finding you

OR you can be a pain in the ass and jumpscare the person with the worst nightmare possible

[random-user-guy]

18 T.G., 18th of Mercy

Uhhhhhhh how the hell do i even start this?

So uh i'm journaling now, i guess? Nay said it'll help me process stuff better. No idea what that means but imma try anyway. I guess i should introduce myself?? Uh hi? I'm Eliseo. I'm 15 now and in the 9th grade. Im in the junior high basketball team as the team center. I like rice i guess?? Is that interesting? No idea. Im trying my best.

I met a girl

There's this pretty girl

I made a new friend today. She's from Weylyn's class and we got introduced to each other yesterday. She's nice. REALLY nice. Nicer than Weylyn. I dunno something about her is interesting... well besides the pastel hair. She doesn't talk much and her voice is kinda soft, the "talk only when spoken to" kind of person. A bit weird but she's nice to talk to when she eventually does. I dunno it's like listening to those jazz singers Ma plays on the speakers sometimes. Soothing and calming. It's nice.

Wish i could talk to her again soon because im a dumbass that forgot her name. I dont wanna ask her because that'll make me feel even dumber so uh fuck me i guess.

- Eliseo

[random-user-guy]

Ongoing 

Demo | Info | Fantasy

Play as a powerful witch and talented healer, living in the shadow of your late father’s legacy, and your ‘unique relationship’ with Death himself.

Demo | Info | Fantasy Mystery Romance

Set in a magical version of the 1920s. Play as a shady information broker, recruited to solve the murder of a powerful sorcerer.

Complete 

Link | Short story

A very short false awakening dream simulator (401 words).

Link | Short story

Encounter a woman who lives in a pond.

Link | Short story

A stranger walks into a pub. This story contains one single choice.

[random-user-guy]

A dark blue house has banners of the gods hanging from their porch. You've heard rumors that the owner might be some religious fanatic, or something similar.

Might be a coincidence but that dark blue color and banners of the gods? It might belong to an important character to the story. Maybe Shiki’s?

If I share the first [and unfinished] draft of chapter 1 what then