#archivist hypothesis

[luckyarchivist]

TOUCHSTARVED 2.0: Them Changes (spoiler warning!)

Hello, all! Below is a HUGE (~3K words) post about all the changes I noticed in the Touchstarved 2.0 prologue/demo. It's as much for my benefit as for yours, and I'll hopefully be incorporating some of these notes into my loresheets in the next couple of weeks.

Long story short: There’s been a lot of changes. I thought that even before I skipped through Fulgur’s full TOUCHSTARVED playthrough as reference and discovered even more changes I'd forgotten about. The sheer amount of sentence rewriting and reorganizing, as well as minor dialogue additions, is too much for me to cover: I have to commend the writers on the RSS team for their hard work.

Luckily, a lot of the rewriting is ultimately inconsequential (thank GOD). But I do want to highlight some changes I felt were important to characterization and story, as well as anything that just really stood out to me as someone who played the 1.0 demo, like, twice or three times with the intention of looking for clues and shit.

NOTE: These notes cover ONLY the main prologue, i.e. there's nothing in here from the LI-solo routes after the Wet Wick group scene. I'll get to those, and I want to! But it won't be today.

Kuras: Introduction

Definitely, there were dialogue changes and additions in Kuras’s introduction. However, to my memory, there was nothing that would change his characterization significantly. So, we’ll skip right over him. Love you, Kuras! Thanks for making things easy.

If you have any big changes that you noticed in Kuras's introduction compared to the first demo, let me know either on this post, or in an ask! I always miss stuff and I'd appreciate the check.

What I will say about Kuras's introduction, though? The MC says that “[Kuras] towers over [their] prone form” and... Technically, they're supine. "Prone" means you’re face down, which MC clearly is not.

Leander and the Adderstone: Introduction

This is gonna be the longest section — 3 pages on my Google Docs. Please hang in there!

As stated in the RSS devlog for the 2.0 update, Leander's introduction has changed quite a bit. But I actually want to start by talking about Leander's followers first — previously the Bloodhounds, now the Adderstone. First: the name.

An adderstone is a glassy stone with a naturally occurring hole through it. There are all kinds of myths about the creation and use of these stones, which I encourage you to look up (it’s fun to learn!) but they have a strong connection with druidic magic; druids believed that serpents would gather in giant entangled “knots” and that the stone would be produced at the center of that knot.

Already you can see a connection with Le in the magic connotations, but the snake reference is not to be ignored, either for him or his group. An adder is a venomous viper — while their bites are not usually fatal to humans, they are quite painful, and they show up often in Welsh and British folklore. (Maybe all those people who thought Leander was British were actually right!) Perhaps MC has unknowingly walked into the center of a knot of snakes.

To me, this change in name also mirrors the change in the way the group acts. The Bloodhounds were rowdy drunks, though well-meaning, and did as Leander commanded like loyal dogs. They crowd around for the treat of his magic and disperse at his command, and yell at the MC angrily when they bring up the Senobium. 

By contrast, the Adderstone is a much more insular, subdued group. After Leander’s impassioned speech against the Senobium, you are stopped from speaking to him by one of its members, as if he’s a high-ranking official or something. In addition, when you mention the Senobium, instead of being outwardly angry, the Adders go silent and wary.

In addition, this new Adderstone has:

No motto. The Bloodhounds’ motto, stated on their poster, was “As above, so below.”

No uniforms. Leander’s Bloodhounds all wore green cloaks.

With the Adderstone discussed, it's time to turn to the man of the hour.

Mainly, Leander has now been established as a Man Of The People, one who is actively encouraging Lowtowners to stay away from the Senobium. This is a huge change from his "gregarious performer" personality, and it seeps into all of his new introduction (which is a good thing!).

Leander is now an anti-traditionalist. In both versions of the demo, he asks if MC is aware that in Eridia, "information is worth its weight in gold." However, in 2.0., he follows that up by saying that he "[doesn’t] much care for outdated traditions," and opts to tell you the truth without any "payment."

Leander presents himself as one of many victims of the Senobium's "propaganda," saying that he used to idolize them until he realized they were an elitist organization. This is in line with his socmed fun fact, which states that he turned down the opportunity to become a Senobium mage to pursue his own ambitions: clearly, something to do with his presence in Lowtown, though I won't go so far as to say he's trying to uplift the district or anything yet.

In addition to these points, Leander's more outwardly sexual, submissive, and flirty personality in his intro has been toned waaaay down in favor of making him seem more like a competent leader of a...rebel organization? I'm not quite sure what the Adders are in contrast with the Senobium.

Here are some examples of his more leaderly traits and the removals of his more fanservicey behaviors in his introduction.

Leander asks if you're looking for a guide or an escort to the Senobium, whereas in the last version he does not mention taking you there himself at all. Implies that he's taking direct responsibility for you.

It's now explicitly stated that his line, "You can tie me up if it makes you feel better," is a joke to ease tension and not actually flirting. He also doesn't blush :(

The bartender doesn't mention Leander's "escapades" explicitly anymore.

Small change, but in 2.0, Leander tells you to take a deep breath and counts you down to touching him, whereas in 1.0, you count yourself down. He's guiding MC's behavior.

Before, in the tavern scene, Mhin asks if Leander warned MC about Eridia. In 1.0, he did not; in 2.0, he does in fact warn you that, “Eridia is twice as dangerous as it is wondrous. Be careful out there."

This definitely makes him seem more dependable, but less cute, in my opinion. I was particularly crushed by devs cutting Le's line, "Look, we match!" when talking about his gold jewelry and MC's gold scars. This has been replaced with, IMHO, a weak flirty line that doesn't endear me as much to him.

The devs stated in their 2.0 changelog that Leander's character is still the same, but that his new intro is a better reflection of his full route. At this point, I disagree: I think he's being portrayed as very different here, though my opinion may change once I do his post-tavern scene.

Though I'm sure some people thought of Leander as flat when compared to the other LIs, I think that added to his whole "too good to be true" and "let me be the reprieve for what haunts you" angle — someone who seems totally normal, but is actually a danger to you.

Of course, the first angle has been retained with him being the heroic opposition to the Senobium. But he's gone from a clumsy, cute everyman with impressive magical powers to the leader of a kind of movement, which is very different as far as archetypes go (to me, at least). It's certainly possible that we'll see this other side of him later, or even that I'll see it whenever I do his post-tavern scene, but he leaves a very different first impression.

I also wonder if devs were worried that Leander was being oversexualized before his route came out because of all the references in his intro, and decided to 1) curb people's impressions of him as the local slut and/or 2) cut down on disappointment when there's no sex in his route by introducing his moral mission first.

(To clarify, I wasn't under the impression there would be fully written sex scenes or NSFW CGs, but I don't know if they're planning to do a fade-to-black situation, or not have any sex present at all.)

Finally, and this is a note about MC during this section: I noticed that the wording of their previous "experience" has been changed.

Why change this to make it more vague? It's not like it was raunchy before. The 2.0 line reads more like the MC, I think (mainly the first sentence), and also clarifies for everyone that the reason MC may not be a virgin is because touching their naked shoulder is safe. But, when I was reading it, I was like, "Why change this line, of all the lines?"

1.0: I've been with other people — kissed them, been embraced by them, and more — but not like this.

2.0: It’s not as if I’ve never been touched. My curse only extends to my hands, and desperation spurs creativity.

I guess you could ask that for any line that was changed, though, and it's not like I was particularly attached to it. But it does seem like another instance where a more direct reference to sex was omitted.

Vere: Introduction

Vere’s dialogue was definitely altered and significantly shuffled.

The main change is that now you’re able to walk away from Vere, which causes him to break from his careless façade — another thing mentioned in the social media posts (that Vere is not naturally aloof and needs to work to affect this behavior). He just wants someone to play his little mind games with :(

Vere's dialogue has also been made a little more classy, perhaps, by removing the mention of a handjob and the word "sex" from his intro. Not that it's a huge loss, considering he kept all his other innuendo.

Finally, Vere's line after smelling MC has changed, and this is one I think is real suspicious.

Did devs feel like his initial line was, perhaps, giving too much away? Or has the intention of the line changed? Basically what I'm asking is: will we still find out, later in Vere's story, that there's some sort of kinship between MC and Vere in what kind of being they are?

1.0: Not quite human, not quite monster. Seems we’re both—

2.0: There’s something else... / It seems I underestimated you. You’re—

These are really the only major changes, though — the rest didn't change much, just moved around. Thanks for that, Vere. This is the ONLY time you’ll find me thanking you for anything, at least until you start taking my commissions to draw Ais oiled up and tied down.

The Senobium / Ais: Introduction

Ais's dialogue was changed the least out of all the LIs, as far as I can tell, which to me suggests that devs have the best idea of his characterization and the strongest foundation for his route compared to the rest. Makes sense, since he's the poster boy. But he does change one of his lines, and I'm kinda mad about it even though it's literally soooo inconsequential. This is Ais's response after you ask him where the gang he's supposed to be the leader of even is:

Literally a one-word change! But to me, that was a line that helped define Ais's voice, and I'm sad it's gone.

1.0: Gang took a walk.

2.0: They took a walk.

Really, though, I'll be spending this section focused on the newly named Iris, the "red-eyed woman" who appears outside the Senobium to take you to the Seaspring. MC's interaction with her changed quite drastically compared to 1.0.

Her appearance, or the description of it, has changed. Before there was a lot of emphasis on her physical features (gauntness, smiling too widely) whereas now it's all about her clothing (lack of shoes, moth-eaten garments, jewelry).

In addition, instead of making idle small talk with you that the MC can choose to ignore, Iris asks you to your face if you need help.

Before, she never introduced herself, and was referred to simply as "red-eyed woman". This time, she politely introduces herself as Iris.

Overall, she now has a personality that isn't just "creepy lady". She's embarrassed when she shows MC the hole in her neck; she reassures the MC of their safety when they don't want to walk out of the city.

This one's weird: Before, the red-eyed woman waves you off, and you continue on to the Spring; now, Iris disappears right in front of you. What kind of power is that?

Iris is now a character made to directly contrast the Seaspring with the Senobium. Here is a woman, obviously kept alive by some mysterious and possibly sinister force, but one who holds her hand out to you and offers you assistance. In contrast, the Senobium's gates and patrolling staff scorn you and push you away because of your status as a poor "tourist". The Seaspring is the poor man's miracle and the outcast's salvation.

I also noticed two themes in Iris's dialogue that stood out: choice and honesty. She only mentions the latter once, if you answer her truthfully (saying "I do" when she asks if you need help), but because I wrote that post about Ais and honesty, it made me wonder... Is this a theme for Ais, as the de facto leader of the Seaspring's thralls, or for Ocudeus, as the Spring's host?

As far as the former, she mentions that you have a choice a lot. For example:

So, not only is Ais telling you to really consider if you want to join the Seaspring groupmind, but even other thralls are emphasizing that you have the ability to turn away from it.

1.0: If I’ve caught your interest, follow me. It’s only a short walk away.

2.0: I can take you there, if you like. You can decide on your own once you see it. [MC: And if I say no?] It’s your choice.

Speaking of the groupmind, how does Iris know her name? Ais says in both 1.0 and 2.0 that, “When you drink from the Seaspring, you forget who you are.” If that's the case (and if we're willing to excuse Ais retaining his own identity due to Main Love Interest Syndrome), how can someone like Iris introduce herself and retain her human personality?

You could say that the groupmind retains every person's individual personality, but I was under the impression initially that the groupmind assimilated all identities into one. Something to think on, and to wait for more information about.

Mhin: Introduction

In the transition from Ais to Mhin, we get to see more inclusion of socmed fun facts: The MC unwinds their glove in an attempt to touch the Soulless chasing them and pacify it long enough to escape. Look at our MC, with useful powers!

Some smaller changes with Mhin's characterization:

They've made Mhin more considerate :) In 1.0, they pull you to your feet and pretty much immediately let go of you; in 2.0, they hold onto your hand long enough, and ask you verbally, to make sure you're stable before letting go, even though MC can tell that holding your hand makes them really uncomfortable.

No more calling Mhin short :( I guess that would be rude to do to someone you just met and who saved your life...

Mhin gets to talk about their hobbies: anatomy!, although they say when asked that they "[haven't] quite" studied anatomy or medicine. This definitely gives them a scholarly layer that wasn't as clear before.

The biggest change is that Mhin tells you that they grew up in Eridia, and that the city used to be better than it is now. Literally, while I was playing, I said "What?!" out loud. This is huge, because Mhin's whole thing is that they were a "relative newcomer" to the city. However, they now know the streets well enough to navigate MC in the dark back to the Amaryllis District by themself, where they and MC run into Kuras.

So, with this change, I have a whole bunch of new questions. Is Mhin's released character summary and backstory going to change by the release of the full game? If not, why did they and their family leave? What brought them back when it seems like they hate it here? How long were they there before MC got there?

We'll see if some of these are answered in the after-tavern scene, but for now, I really don't know what to think. I appreciated having a character who was also fresh meat in the city while not being as fresh as MC, as it allowed for a little "new kid" camaraderie while still letting Mhin guide you and teach you about Eridia. We'll see where it goes!

The Tavern Scene

Mainly line changes here I wanted to comment on, but let's go through the minor characterization or world changes first.

The drink Leander gives you, the "local specialty," is now a pomegranate wine instead of a plum gin. Yeah, yeah, Underworld, forbidden fruit. I've been through a literary symbolism class before.

Vere is made to seem less drunk when you speak to him and Ais, as he's no longer hiccuping like he was in 1.0. Seems he and the demon can hold their liquor. I'll miss you, cute drunk Vere.

And now, the main event: dialogue alterations! Let's run through 'em.

Mhin's line to Vere when they first enter the bar: "I thought Ais wasn’t allowed to bring his pets in here." -> “I thought pets weren’t allowed in here.” This is probably to make Mhin seem more distant from Ais: after all, how would they know about Ais's affinity for pets or his relationship with Vere? This one makes sense to me, even though the first line is a better burn.

Vere's line to Leander, once Leander realizes that everyone already knows each other: “Mmhmm, I’m starting to suspect [MC's] stalking me.” -> “To think we’d cross paths once again. It must be fate.” I like this change because Vere is very fate-coded to me. Give him some tarot cards, stat.

Leander's paypig lines to Vere have been changed, probably for the same reason Mhin's lines to Vere were changed: to imply that, while they know each other, Le doesn't know enough about Vere to know his expensive tastes.

And then the line change I'm mad about, which I talked about in this post, when MC is complaining about Ais kicking them out of the Seaspring just so he could go drinking:

I know this is partially nostalgia bias, but I’ve already talked about Ais’s whole honesty thing, and literally his fatal flaw is that he “lets his emotions rule him.” Why change this line?

1.0: I was lonely.

2.0: Had to give you a reason to come looking. Miss me yet?

Although MC acknowledges that Ais’s more flirty response in 2.0 is a deflection rather than a real answer, my current understanding of Ais is rooted in his honesty and his heart-on-my-sleeve behavior. He even says that about himself when comparing himself to Kuras (at least, in the 1.0 version of his route). It feels like a loss not to maintain his almost-blasé attitude towards just telling you how he really feels.

Now it's your turn!

While I find time to play the LI-exclusive sections, I'd love to hear from y'all. Any changes I missed in the main prologue that you think are important? Do you agree or disagree with me on any of the points I've made or conclusions I've drawn? Want me to expand on something I mentioned? Please let me know, either here or in my asks!

I had a great time playing the new demo and writing all of this up! It'll only be for a short while, but I'm happy to be back investigating this game :)

[anto-pops]

»»——ANTOPOPS MASTERLIST——««

For the mobile users having a difficult time getting to my linked masterlist page, I've decided to bite the bullet and make an easy to access version of it !

Please do not repost, reupload, or copy my work to any other sites ! Tumblr and Ao3 are the only platforms I post my writing to :))

In regards to requests │ Find me on AO3

⊹ HOGWARTS LEGACY WORKS ⊹

The Hypothesis - Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, rough sex AO3 │ Tumblr

Mallowsweet Muses - Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader x Ominis Gaunt Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, recreational drug use, polyamory themes AO3 │ Tumblr Pt. 1 / Pt. 2 / Pt. 3

End of the Line - Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, breeding kink AO3 │ Tumblr Pt. 1 / Pt. 2

Lazy Mornings - Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content AO3 │ Tumblr

To the Victor Go the Spoils - Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content AO3 │ Tumblr

Atonement - Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader Warnings: 18+, canon typical violence, suicidal thoughts, angst, explicit sexual content, rough sex AO3 │ Tumblr Pt. 1 / Pt. 2

Hushed Whispers - Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, rough sex AO3 │ Tumblr

Fissured Composure - Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader Warnings: 18+, minor violence, explicit sexual content, rough sex AO3 │ Tumblr

Lost and Found - Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader Warnings: Mild injuries, break-ups, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending AO3 │ Tumblr

A New Frame of Mind - Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, rough sex AO3 │ Tumblr

Inherent Desires - Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, mild voyeurism AO3 │ Tumblr

The Promise of Tomorrow - Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, Garreth Weasley in Aunt Tessie’s robes AO3 │ Tumblr

A Torrid Arrangement - Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, lots of hickies AO3 │ Tumblr

Cheirophilia - Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader Warnings: 18+ explicit sexual content, hand kink, size difference AO3 │ Tumblr

The Serpent’s Paramour - Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader  Warnings: 18+, enemies/friends/lovers, canon typical violence, angst, post-hogwarts, explicit language, explicit sexual content, kidnapping, more TBA AO3 (Just go read it there, there's too many chapters to link)

The Archivist - Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, slice of life, size difference AO3 │ Tumblr

Sudsy Confessions - Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, slice of life, love confessions, first time AO3 │ Tumblr

Possessive Touch - Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, rough sex, possessive behavior, yandere!Sebastian AO3 │ Tumblr

Bitter Truths - Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, emotional manipulation, dark!Sebastian AO3 │ Tumblr

Restraint - Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, possessive/obsessive behavior, needy Sebastian, first time AO3 │ Tumblr

Bloody Hell - Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader Warnings: 18+, menstruation, explicit sexual content, shower sex, period sex AO3 │ Tumblr

Playing With Fire - Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, possessive behavior, breeding kink, rough sex, voyeurism AO3 │ Tumblr

Homecoming - Ominis Gaunt x F!Reader Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, rough sex AO3 │ Tumblr

A Long Time Coming - Ominis Gaunt x F!Reader Warnings: 18+, mild PTSD if you squint, explicit sexual content AO3 │ Tumblr

Secrets - Ominis Gaunt x F!Reader Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, light BDSM, rough sex (seriously) AO3 │ Tumblr

Heart of Vipers - Ominis Gaunt x F!Reader Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, minor depictions of violence AO3 │ Tumblr

Beseech Me - Ominis Gaunt x F!Reader Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, rough sex on a desk AO3 │ Tumblr

Touch Starved - Ominis Gaunt x F!Reader Warnings: 18+ explicit sexual content, Ominis being petty, praise kink AO3 │ Tumblr

⊹ LOVE AND DEEPSPACE WORKS ⊹

Midnight Rendezvous - Sylus x F!Reader Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, rough sex, size difference AO3 │ Tumblr

Envy’s Grip - Sylus x F!Reader Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, rough sex, jealousy, miscommunication AO3 │ Tumblr

The Mirror’s Heartfelt Reflection - Sylus x F!Reader Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, self-esteem issues, mirror sex, size difference AO3 │ Tumblr

Just a Taste - Sylus x F!Reader Warnings: 18+, canon typical violence, blood/injury, explicit sexual content, animalistic behavior, obsessive behavior, size difference, rough sex AO3 │ Tumblr

[woradat]

HALL OF RECORD

SUMMARY – once he was chief advisor, once you were archivist. Now they are not

PAIRING – sentinel prime x reader

NOTE – I read this fanfic and oh my god, the concept is so awesome?? I really couldn't help but have to write this one out after I finish reading

—

“You always talk this much?”

“Only when I’m not being appreciated properly”

—

The restricted archives of the Hall of Records didn’t have doors

Instead, a shimmering energy curtain flickered in the threshold—neither entirely solid nor passable without resistance. It hummed faintly, a curtain of containment and silence, casting the interior in a calm, undisturbed glow

Inside, You was standing at the center of a semi-circular array of holographic control panels. The light from them cast soft reflections across your plating, washing your frame in gentle hues of blue and gold. Your optics were narrowed, fingers dancing across the controls as lines of Proto-Cybertronian text hovered and rotated before being carefully sorted into branching timelines. Names, eras, battles—entries from the Age of Origins that most bots only heard of in myth or prayer—floated across the air in spectral luminescence

You were so focused you didn’t notice the energy curtain shift. Didn’t hear the quiet approach of footsteps echoing off the polished floor outside. But you did hear him “It’s so quiet in here, I half-suspected you'd unplugged the whole room just to keep people like me out”

That voice. Smooth as always, laced with that specific flavor of smugness only one bot had perfected into an artform. You didn’t turn around, just kept your optics on the console

A voice followed. Predictable as clockwork “You know, if you're trying to make this place uninviting, you're doing an excellent job. It feels like a tomb in here"

“Then do us both a favor and leave the tomb” You tapped a glyph to dismiss a particularly long-winded transcript, expression unreadable – the tone was dry as sand

The kind that scraped slightly on its way out

“Oh, temping” Sentinel replied easily, his silhouette now visible beyond the flickering field. He stepped closer, the energy parting around him in a faint shimmer. Every movement he made was deliberate—graceful in a way that suggested performance, not necessity. His arms folded behind his back as he glanced around, as if pretending to study the room when it was obvious who had his attention

“but I’m waiting for Alpha Trion. He told me to collect a report from you” He paused, letting silence settle, then added in a quieter, almost conspiratorial tone “Though... I suspect he meant for me to wait. Probably figured you wouldn’t hand anything over unless someone stood here breathing down your neck”

You sighed—long and theatrical—and flicked a glowing folder through the air toward him. It hovered just beyond arm’s reach, daring him to step through the last layer of distance

“Fine. Take it” But instead of grabbing it, Sentinel stepped into the room. Through the field. Through the silence. He walked with the sort of casual confidence that suggested he was used to testing boundaries—and getting away with it

Your shoulders stiffened “I said—”

“I heard you”

He smiled that smile—the one that never reached his optics but somehow always reached your nerves

“I just had to wonder... Do you archivists actually read all this? Or is the dramatic lighting part of the job description?”

That made you turn

You pivoted slowly, lifting your gaze with the kind of patient menace that suggested this was not the first time you’d had to deal with him while resisting the urge to throw a data-pad. Your voice, however, was calmer than expected — not fast, not irritated. Just a calm, evaluating glance—like a scholar measuring a hypothesis before entertaining it

“Sometimes we don’t have time”

You glanced past him at the glowing panels, timelines shifting silently in the background “But I make time. Because if we don’t read the past... the ones building the future will start thinking they were the ones who invented counting"

Something in your voice held weight. Not anger, not sarcasm—but purpose. A quiet kind of conviction that echoed beneath the words. Sentinel, for once, didn’t speak right away. His optics dipped to the floor for a breath, then lifted again—expression softer. The faint smile remained, but it was... tempered. Less a smirk, more a trace of something else. Maybe thoughtfulness

“Tell me this, then. All these hours poring over the past—do you honestly think it’ll change what happens next?”

“No. But if we don’t remember where we’ve already walked, we’ll keep falling into the same holes. Just with better boots”

“You sound like Alpha Trion when he hasn’t recharged in a week"

“That’s rich” you muttered “Coming from someone who thinks leadership is about dramatic speeches and hero poses"

"I do not pose”

"You paused in the middle of a battle to stand on a cliff"

“It was tactically advantageous!” Sentinel protested “The high ground—”

“It was sunset, Sentinel"

He made a strangled noise—equal parts indignant and caught "…Alright, maybe the lighting was good"

The silence that followed wasn’t sharp. It was still. Reflective. As if the room had paused with them—time stretching between two minds not in agreement, but in rhythm

“You know.." Sentinel finally reached out and took the data-folder from the air, fingers brushing the edge of the projection with practiced ease

“You’re probably the worst assistant Alpha Trion’s ever had…”

He turned the file over in his hand, optics skimming the surface—but he didn’t leave “ and he once told me you’re the only one who reminds him he’s not a god. I thought he meant it as an insult. Now I think it might’ve been gratitude”

You blinked. Your gaze flicked to him, surprised—but not in disbelief, didn’t say anything. But your stance eased. Just slightly. Like a string that had been pulled too tight for too long had finally loosened a notch — Sentinel turned then, walking toward the exit. He passed through the energy field, static dancing across his armor—but paused, halfway through. One foot out, one still in

“Next time, could you maybe not sound like you hate me so much? ease up on the open hostility? Some of us bruise easily” He turned his helm slightly, optics glinting with that old familiar mischief

You raised an optic ridge, mouth twitched “Is that what you’re calling your ego now?”

Sentinel chuckled—low, and far too pleased with himself “Among other things” he replied, already vanishing into the shimmer

“But good luck getting rid of me, I haunt well" with that, he disappeared through the barrier and the room was quiet again. But it wasn’t the same kind of quiet anymore. It lingered differently. Like the space between pages, before you turn to the next

Like a history book left open

Still waiting to be finished

—

The Hall of Records was supposed to be a place of reverence

KEYWORD: SUPPOSED TO

Vaulted ceilings soared high above, ribbed in glimmering alloys and etched with flowing script older than most functioning civilizations. Stained-glass data channels cast shifting patterns of cyan and violet across the marble floor, and the soft hum of ancient servers echoed like distant chanting

It was a place meant for quiet awe, for scholarly silence. It was not designed to accommodate Sentinel’s ego. Ever since he’d discovered that the shimmering energy curtain at the entrance didn’t shock intruders—merely issued a stern sonic warning in a disapproving librarian voice—Sentinel had made it his personal mission to stroll in whenever he pleased. No authorization. No warning. No respect for the rules of spatial awareness

Usually mid-shift. Always mid-sentence

“You changed the lighting layout again”

His voice preceded him, gliding in a split second before his tall frame breached the energy field with a dramatic flicker “What is this now, mood lighting for monologues?”

You didn’t look up

You sat in the central alcove, surrounded by a web of holographic panels arranged in concentric arcs, your fingers flicked through three overlapping treaty records—each with footnotes, post-conflict amendments, and suspiciously contradictory date entries. A headache wrapped in bureaucracy, topped with illegible seals "It adjusts based on optic strain”

“You wouldn’t know anything about that"

Sentinel grinned as he sauntered in, clearly unbothered. His stride was the kind that echoed on purpose—heels angled just enough to produce a satisfying click with every state

“You wound me” he said, placing a hand over his spark in mock offense

“I have very sensitive optics, thank you"

He attempted to lean against one of the translucent crystal data pylons that jutted from the floor like frozen lightning. There was a sharp snap of static, and he jerked back with a hiss as a warning glyph lit up in disapproval

Again

You didn’t even flinch

“Stop touching things” you muttered, still scanning through sub-clause annotations

“Every time you lean on one of those, it reroutes a quarter of the data flow”

“Oh?” Sentinel said, perking up like a mech who had just found a big red button labeled Do Not Press

“So this one messes with the stream?” he asked, already reaching toward a pulsing glyph marked in ominous red. A symbol that all but screamed catastrophic protocol override — You looked up, finally. Your optics widened “Sentinel—!”

Too late

His fingers brushed the glyph. There was a soft ping, a hum like an engine hiccuping, and then— All the lights dimmed to a dull amber. The panels around you flickered, rippled... and then recompiled. All at once. Every menu, every label, every command—rewritten in looping, sharp-edged characters

You stared “You rewrote the interface in Old Vosian" It wasn’t even a living language anymore. Not really. Mostly used in ceremonial inscriptions and bad poetry

Sentinel blinked, stepping back with a shrug and zero remorse “…You’re welcome?”

“GET OUT" Your’s shoulders tensed like they were physically restraining themselves from launching a stylus across the room

“Too late” Sentinel said, lowering himself into the spare console seat like he absolutely belonged there “I live here now”

He leaned back with that satisfied sigh he always made when he thought he was being hilarious. One foot kicked up against the base of the pylon. The interface flickered again, this time turning the archive’s auto-index into a rotating wheel of Vosian proverbs. You slowly, very deliberately, pinched the bridge of your nasal ridge

There was no reverence left in the Hall of Records today

Only Sentinel

The worst part wasn’t that he kept coming back It was that somehow, he always managed to bring food This time, it was a ration cube with what looked suspiciously like hand-scraped energon drizzle—artisanal he’d claimed, from a street vendor in the lower spires “Do you even like these?” you asked, eyeing the cube on their desk with wary suspicion

“Not particularly” Sentinel shrugged “But you get weird when you don’t recharge or eat”

“I don’t get weird”

“You cataloged two hundred years of war records in reverse chronological order because you were cranky”

“That was for cross-referencing purposes—!”

“You growled at a light”

Some days, Sentinel brought things that absolutely, unquestionably, did not belong in the Hall of Records

One cycle, it was a cleaning drone the size of a knee joint, scuttling around your workstation with a high-pitched hum and a sensor that kept mistaking ancient dataplaques for dust "To help you declutter” – Sentinel had said, setting the bot down with the enthusiasm of someone who hadn��t read a single regulation about archival containment. Another time, he’d arrived with a battered datapad in one hand and a suspicious grin on his face

“Found this under a floor panel. Probably cursed. Or priceless. Or both"

You barely looked up from indexing screen “You can’t just bring things into the archives without logging them"

“What if it’s historically significant?”

“It’s a receipt for wing wax. From a Seeker bar"

Sentinel had held it up like a trophy “Exactly! Cultural anthropology"

You pinched the bridge of your nasal ridge and sighed, the kind of sigh one developed only after multiple encounters with the same brand of madness “One day you’re going to knock over a whole building”

“Then you’ll just have to yell at me until I help you rebuild it" He said it with a smile so falsely innocent it could have been carved from polished smugness. You didn’t respond—not with words, anyway. The silence you gave him was honed, practiced, and about 80% ineffective now and yet. For all the chaos he trailed behind him—misfiled reports, rerouted light fixtures, at least one energy spike traced back to an extremely suspicious pastry— You had long stopped trying to keep him out

Somewhere between the first complaint logged and the thousandth ignored intrusion, his presence had settled into something else

Routine

A break in the quiet

A reminder that not everything needed to be orderly to be valuable

That cycle, the ambient light had dimmed to its evening hue, fading into soft golds and purples that streamed through the stained dataglass and washed over the polished floor. The archive felt half-asleep, hushed and slow – Sentinel’s voice came from the doorway, framed by the low gleam of the setting shifts “You’re staying late again"

He leaned one shoulder casually against the frame, his figure lit from behind in dusky silhouette “Trying to impress the scrolls?”

You didn’t glance up—still combing through a data tangle from the war of the Thirteen Clades, most of which seemed written in ego and coded pettiness. But your voice lacked its usual bite

“Trying to make sense of a thousand years of ego and bad handwriting" There was a pause, and then— “You’re included in that”

“Naturally”

Sentinel stepped inside

This time, no jokes, no data pylons knocked over. Just the quiet tap of his footsteps and the warm scent of a synth-brewed energon cube he placed gently beside them. You looked at the cube first—steam curling into the low archive air – then at him – then... they just shook your helm with a faint huff, like amusement trying not to be seen “…You’re not as intolerable as you were”

Sentinel smirked, folding his arms and leaning slightly closer “I’ll take that as a heartfelt declaration of affection”

“Take it as a warning. You’re wearing me down”

“Good” Sentinel murmured, pleased “Makes it easier to sneak into your schedule”

You didn’t tell him to leave

And he didn’t ask to stay

They just worked. Side by side. Occasionally brushing data windows toward each other, occasionally sharing quiet that didn’t feel like silence. Like this was normal now. Like somehow—without anyone announcing it—he’d become part of the footnotes in your day

—

The archives had always been quiet. But this… was too quiet

You sat before the central validation terminal, optics narrowed as lines of processed data ran across the screen. Normally, your work involved verifying temporal consistency, cross-referencing source authenticity, and cleaning up language input from field bots who treated historical reporting like casual gossip — but this wasn’t gossip

This was a timestamped field report. From a Prime-tier outpost. And it didn’t match the report Alpha Trion had handed them this morning

Same event. Same operative. Different wording. Different outcome

And this was the fourth time this week

You brought up both documents—parallel, floating side by side. At a glance, identical. But not quite. The phrasing was just clinical enough to avoid suspicion. The numbers… just plausible enough to escape casual audit. Some were altered more subtly than others. Some inserted new information. Others erased things. Patterns began to form—certain names vanishing from records. Certain decisions scrubbed clean of dissent. A slow, deliberate redirection of narrative

But You didn’t read casually, you read like the future depended on it. Because sometimes, it did

You leaned closer. Opened the metadata. Something flickered – an override signature

Sentinel

Not the full one. Not overt. But his code was in the chain. A sublevel authorization ping—probably buried deep in a rerouting command. Too clean to be a mistake. Too careful to be a coincidence

And why is that? That is the question

—

The chamber was silent but it wasn’t the silence of order and it wasn’t peace. It was the kind of silence that came after something broke— Suddenly – Violently —So completely that even the echoes didn’t know where to go

You sat alone in the central atrium of the Hall of Records. The room—once alive with soft lights and quiet, rhythmic humming—now felt vast and hollow, like the inside of a broken bell. The archive’s main lights had dimmed themselves hours ago, following protocol that couldn’t tell the difference between motionless focus and simple absence. Holographic glyphs still hovered faintly above the console. Fragmented, flickering. Half-rendered thoughts waiting for a directive

They pulsed softly in the darkness, as if uncertain whether their purpose remained

You hadn’t moved. Not since the message came through. Not since the declaration hit them like a blade made of code and finality

The Thirteen Primes have been lost

No battle. No footage. No grand sacrifice — Just... a report. One sentence. Cold, clean, absolute and a follow-up notice:

They will not return

Not “they cannot” Not “they may not” they will not. Your hands had been still on the console ever since. Locked in place. Not gripping—clutching, with pressure that only now began to tremble from strain. You hadn’t moved. Not from disbelief. You had seen enough in your long life to know that nothing—no matter how vast—was immune to destruction. Not even from grief, not yet. The pain hadn’t taken shape. It was numbness. Cold, static-lined void. Not like losing a person. More like watching the stars themselves turn off, one by one, and not knowing if you were next

If someone had asked you yesterday whether the Primes could die, you would’ve said no. Not because you were naive. You had never been one to place blind faith in divine myth. But the Primes were not just icons — They were anchors — Mountains, carved into the structure of Cybertron itself. Fixed points around which history rotated. You didn’t believe in them, the way you believed in stories

You relied on them and now? Gone

Gone, without a trace. Without a last word. Without even a record. Like they had never been

You hadn’t noticed the way your joints had locked until you finally loosened your grip on the console. One finger twitched first, then another. The sensation returned slowly, pins and needles rippling down your arm as you exhaled for the first time in what felt like megacycles. The silence pressed back in

And then—

Footsteps. Slow. Unhurried. Too measured to be uncertain. Too composed to be innocent You didn’t need to turn. You knew

“You’re still here”

The voice came low, as though reluctant to break the stillness—but unable to resist doing so. Controlled, almost gentle but not quite — Sentinel stepped past the edge of the darkened corridor and into the atrium, his frame outlined in the cold ambient glow of the failing terminals. Even his footsteps sounded louder than usual here, every contact with the stone floor ringing too sharp, too deliberate “Everyone else has gone to the Spire"

You didn’t answer, didn’t even blink. Your gaze remained fixed forward, eyes dim and distant, staring through the projections as though trying to read something that hadn’t yet been written

Something that should have been there

Sentinel’s footsteps echoed again as he moved closer—slow, even, deliberate

“The official rites are being drafted” he said, after a moment “They want you to verify the final accounts. For the records"

He didn’t phrase it as a command. Not exactly. But the weight behind it was undeniable. At that, Your helm dipped slightly. Not in obedience. Not in agreement. Just… acknowledgment. Your voice came a moment later. Quiet. Hoarse in a way that had nothing to do with their vocalizer

“They’re dead..” A beat “All of them”

The words didn’t echo, simply fell, flat, lifeless, like corrupted data hitting a locked node

Sentinel didn’t respond right away. He stood behind them now—just a few paces away—but made no move to reach out, no pretense of comfort. Only the silence, shared “Yes”

One word. Heavy as a headstone

The word lingered. Not in grief. Not in reflection. Just—confirmation. Neatly clipped. Perfectly balanced. As if he had been waiting to say it

You didn’t move at first. Only optics shifted—quietly tracking the flickering remains of the central display. The soft wash of light from the terminal painted shifting glyphs on the metallic floor, but no new data came. No emergency alerts. No last pings from the outer sectors. No autologs from the Primes. Nothing — Your hand moved slowly, brushing a few dormant glyphs back into focus. The last outbound transmissions. System traces. Anything

But the logs were clean

Too clean

“They didn’t send anything” you murmured, the words soft, but weighter “Not one of them. No burst signal. No fail-safe ping. Not even a corrupted echo"

The words turned brittle. The disbelief was not loud—but it was cutting. You turned—just slightly. Enough to glimpse him standing behind, his figure still and controlled, as though carved from the archive walls themselves. Hands clasped behind his back. Shoulders squared. That same unreadable expression he always wore like armor

But now… it felt wrong —Too smooth. Too complete. Like a statue placed just a little too soon after the funeral

“And you…”

“You’re very calm”

There it was: a twitch

Not obvious—just the faintest narrowing of Sentinel’s optics as he turned his helm slightly toward them “Would you rather I fall to my knees?” he said. Tone level. Not mocking—but not grieved, either

If it was meant to soften the moment, it failed

Your optics didn’t waver “I’d rather you look like someone who just lost everything"

The air between them was thin now. Like atmosphere stripped bare. Sentinel stepped forward, one pace only. Careful. Measured “The rites must be prepared. The Council needs stability. Cybertron needs structure. If I crumble now, what will they cling to?”

“Structure..?” The word tasted sour on your tongue. You turned to face him fully. The low light caught the edges of your frame, casting a faint halo over the lines of wear fatigue had etched over long hours

Your voice didn’t rise. It didn’t need to “Funny how fast structure came together... considering how sudden this all was"

Something flickered across Sentinel’s face. Too brief. A pause, like static between signals. He recovered quickly. But you had seen it “You think I planned this?”

“No" They took a step closer, boots clicking softly against the stone floor “I think you expected it”

Sentinel didn’t reply. So you pressed forward, calm as a scalpel’s edge “The sealed Spire. The rites drafted before the message even reached all districts. The in memoriam archives already preloaded" your optics glinted now, cold and sharp

“You don’t prepare that fast, Sentinel”

Silence. A heavy one

Sentinel’s gaze held steady—but his stance had shifted. A subtle set to the jaw. A flicker of tension behind the shoulders “There are contingency plans” he said at last

“But you didn’t react like this was a contingency – You moved like someone whose schedule had simply... advanced" you weren’t shouting. This wasn’t anger. Not yet. This was worse. It was the kind of quiet that cracked glass — you took another step forward. Sentinel didn’t move “You knew”

You said it not as a claim—but as a data point “You knew something. And you didn’t say anything. Not to me. Not to the Archives. Not to anyone who might have asked why”

Silence stretched again, pulled thin between them like a wire ready to snap. Even the terminals seemed to hold their breath

Then— “Knowing…” Sentinel said slowly “isn’t the same as choosing”

“Then whose choice was it?”

That stopped him. His expression didn’t break—but it no longer looked composed. It looked constructed and still, he said nothing. Which, perhaps, was the loudest thing yet

The Spire bells had long gone quiet. The mourning banners were still up, but the tones of grief had already begun to shift—less raw now, more ceremonial. Official. Muted into symbols

In the weeks that followed

Sentinel did what he had always been best at: He moved forward. Quietly. Confidently. Like a mech simply answering a call no one else could. No one declared him the new Prime. Not at first. But decisions began flowing through his office. Emergency coordination. Transition logistics. Security restructuring. Public reassurance. Every corridor that once ended in silence now echoed with orders signed in his glyph. And no one stopped him. Because no one knew what else to do

At first, it was small. A council meeting held without you—an oversight, you were told. A briefing rerouted to a secondary terminal—misfiled, the assistant claimed. Requests for archival access began to be reviewed then delayed then quietly ignored. One by one, your permissions shifted. Not revoked—restricted. Not banned—just... paused, pending Sentinel’s authorization “Just protocol” he said with that same calm smile “We’re all adjusting to new parameters”

And yet—those parameters always seemed to shift in one direction. His

The chamber above the New Arc Circuit was always cool, always dark. A half-circle of open air overlooked the hall below—a place once alive with debate, bright with the thrum of Prime-forged voices. But now, like so many places in recent cycles, it stood hollow. The ancient lighting had dimmed itself to a low ambient hue, cool silver washing over the stone and metal in shadows and soft reflections.

You stood near the edge, hands resting on the curved railing polished smooth by centuries of counsel. Below, the great speaking floor stretched wide and silent, a ceremonial space untouched since the Spire bells fell quiet. You didn’t turn when you heard the footsteps. Didn’t need to

They had learned the cadence of his walk. Smooth. Steady. Never rushed. Never loud. The stride of someone who believed he already belonged in every room he entered “You’ve been reallocating my permissions"

No anger in your voice. No shock. Just cold, deliberate observation — The kind of truth that left no room for denial. Sentinel didn’t slow. He crossed the polished obsidian floor behind them, his reflection a ripple of dark armor and gold filigree beneath their feet

“Temporarily” His tone was light. Gentle, even. But too balanced to be mistaken for casual

“You didn’t inform me” your gaze fixed on the empty floor below—an echo chamber now. The ghosts of the Primes no longer stirred. Sentinel stopped a short distance behind you

“I didn’t need to” he said quietly “The system recognizes my authority now — Your position, on the other hand, is being... redefined”

That made you turn. Sharp. Controlled. But sharp, optics caught the low light, glowing brighter than he remembered—like you had finally reawakened from grief, only to find anger waiting behind it

“Redefined?”

“By whose decision?”

“By necessity” he replied so so simply

“Your role was constructed under the old paradigm. The Primes are gone”

He took a step closer—not threatening, but deliberate “You served history well”

He meant it. He did. He had watched them work for vorns—methodical, incorruptible, brilliant in ways few ever saw. You had been the voice behind the curtain. The invisible measure by which even the Primes were kept honest. He respected that even… envied it.. But it couldn’t remain

"But I am building something new”

Now he looked at them fully. Not like a subordinate. Not like a rival. Like a problem that used to be a person “And history… isn’t what we need right now.”

You didn’t respond. Not with words

But he saw the tension in your jaw. The stillness in your hands—too still. Like someone holding a thought so tightly they feared it might shatter if spoken aloud. He waited a breath. Two. Then smiled. Just barely “Let it go” he said, voice low. Not mocking. Not cruel. Just… final

“Let the past rest” He took one step more. Just near enough to stand beside you. His voice dropped even lower. Almost a murmur and for a moment—just a moment—he thought they might yield. That the weight of it all—the grief, the isolation, the slow, quiet cuts to your place in the world—had finally worn you down “You don’t want to turn yourself into a relic chasing ghosts”

He didn’t want to erase you

Not like he had erased others

He remembered the way you used to speak in the early days, side by side during cross-era briefings. He remembered the dry wit. The spark of challenge in your optics. You had once made him feel watched. Not in the paranoid way—but in the way that reminded him to stand taller. To be better. But this wasn’t then and if you couldn’t see the necessity of what he was doing…

He would have to act, eventually

But not yet

“Let the archives sleep a while” he added, almost soft “We’ll find a better use for you”

He turned then, the floor catching his reflection as he walked back across the chamber and you remained behind, silent at the rail, watching as your world—your work—shifted underfoot like sand in the tide. They said nothing. But in your chest, something clenched. Because they could hear it now. You quiet, subtle shape of a lie forming in every document you weren’t allowed to see

And it carried his glyph

[archives-of-iacon]

Idrc what the Matrix is. Has anyone licked it. What does it taste like.

C.O.G.S. Reply: Taste Testing the Matrix 🤔🍴

👀 Alright, alright... Here's the scoop 👀

Thank you for your inquiry! 🫡 After an exhaustive, and totally scientific, review of historical, mythological, and speculative records regarding the Matrix of Leadership, the C.O.G.S. team has determined the following:

Has anyone licked the Matrix?

…There is no confirmed documentation of a direct lick. However, given the number of suspicious "handling accidents", we cannot officially rule it out. 🤨🔬

In the spirit of scientific inquiry, we did reach out to the staff of Rodimus Prime for clarification. Unfortunately, our polite request to conduct "direct experimental taste testing in the name of the greater good" was vetoed immediately by a multitude of Senior Archivists on grounds of "basic dignity" and "risk of spontaneous narrative consequences."

BUT (because we never back down from a challenge 💪), we took the next best route: the power of hypothetical scenarios. Here’s a taste ranking of what we think the Matrix might maybe possibly taste like:

Metallic-y & Charged ⚡️ - Our first guess. No surprise here, considering the Matrix’s techy vibe. Impromptu experiments and a thorough cross examination of resulting notes has reached the consensus among us interns that licking a battery or a very dignified piece of silverware would be the closest comparison.

Almonds - After compiling insights from various sources (including our invaluable human archaeology contact, Elena Wallace, who informs us that taste testing is a genuine method of fossil identification), we decided to put forward a vote for an almond flavored Matrix. This is based on reports from organic archeologist that so-called 'fossils' occasionally take on such a taste.

Low-grade Engex - This hypothesis came to the C.O.G.S team in a rare moment of inspiration following contact with the Archive bureaucracy. After presenting our query to the higher ups, one studious bot up a Mecha Resources asked what grade of engex we were drinking. Thus, we took an experimental angle and approached the question following the use of various grades. The low-grade test group was the only one left with readable notes.

Keep in mind, this is all theory... But if you ever find yourself with a piece of the Matrix in hand and a very brave glossa 🤨👅... Let us know how it goes! C.O.G.S. takes no responsibility for any future Matrix-licking initiatives inspired by this post.

We hope this clarifies your curiosity! Feel free to submit additional scientifically-questionable questions at any time. 🔎📝

— C.O.G.S., documenting the important stuff since...well, at least since Tuesday.

[tyran-the-tyranical]

I’ve just realised something about one of Raphael’s employees..

Out of the three essential personnel that Raphael has one has always stuck out as odd to me; That being the Archivist.

First off, unlike Nubaldin or Korilla he doesn’t have a name. Even in Raphael’s logbook on his employees he’s just referred to as the Archivist. Secondly, his appearance, he’s a Mephistopheles’s tiefling and while not every tiefling has to have a strict color code they stick to, it’s funny how he’s red and not the associated blue.

Additionally, he’s specifically stated to have had his spine broken (most likely healed afterwards or just broken in places) due to “wandering”, as Raphael puts it in his logbook, he has a tendency to drift , which is obviously an extreme punishment for such a minor problem, yet compared to Nubaldin who let Gortash get away Raphael calls him a little shit and gives him a different job, and yes it’s presumed he was punished for his failure it’s never mentioned explicitly.

“Archivist - naughty boy, supposed to be looking after the collection, but has a tendency to drift. May have to start breaking his neck to give his spine a chance to recover.”

Now you may be wondering where I’m going with all this, and let me give you my big hypothesis; but first let’s look at this mf.

He has a very distinct look to him, yet still kinda a generic tiefling look; red skin, dark hair, etc. but there’s someone else who looks similar to him and this same person is also described as an Archivist.

“The arch devil Mephistopheles snatched up the crown and squirreled it away in one of his vaults. He is not more than a frigid archivist”

And in the DnD wiki, who else is described as having a generic classic infernal appearance?

“Mephistopheles played up his infernal image as much as possible, intentionally appearing as the classic archetype of a diabolical devil.”

Of course they’re not one to one, I believe Mephistopheles’s is usually depicted with much longer hair and white eyes but the likeness is totally there, like the facial hair… 💅

I also just think it’s perfect that he happens to be a Mephistopheles’s tiefling as well, really just driving the point home lol. Our home boy got some real big daddy issues for sure 😭 but also this is just a theory, a game theory lol

[thana-topsy]

WIP Wednesday 7/26/23

Wednesday again already!? I was tagged by @mareenavee and @kookaburra1701 who I'm pretty sure have already read snippets of this, but here you go again some more. (Oh and @skyrim-forever thank you!)

I'll try to tag people that I know aren't already getting bombarded with tags lol. So let's go @throughtrialbyfire @greyborn2 @what-with-you-dear @metallic-scaled-scarf @mongoose-bite @yesjejunus @nientedenada @moriche show me ya wips.

This is from the broader Enthir story I'm now working on, including 100% more backstory.

---

Word count: 1260

Urag was a fixture of the College of Winterhold just as much as the statue of Shalidor himself. When Enthir had first arrived, newly freed from the rigid curriculum of the Imperial University, ripe with enthusiasm and fresh charisma, he’d quickly gotten himself into the old orc’s good graces. In his near fifty year tenure in academia thus far, Enthir had but one rule: always befriend the archivist.   

Of course, Urag ran his Arcanaeum very differently than the stuffy bastards at the Imperial University. Differently from the University of Gwilym, for that matter. And the Synod’s archives weren’t even worth mentioning in comparison to the College of Winterhold’s vast collection, much of which (Enthir later found out) was locked away in some secret archive and put out on rotation. A large chunk of the collection—known colloquially as the Forbidden Archives—could only be accessed if you knew what you were asking for, presented a thesis and outline detailing the nature of your study, and clearly stated your reasons for needing said research materials, all stamped with the Arch-Mage’s seal of approval. 

Or, bypassing all of that, one could attempt to make nice with the librarian. 

“Please?” Enthir was on the tips of his toes as he leaned across the high desk, jutting out his lower lip. “I won’t even take them out of the Arcanaeum. You can hover behind me menacingly while I read, even.”

“Nope. I’m going to need to see your proposed outline,” Urag repeated, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Enthir curled his lips against his teeth and narrowed his eyes. “Well, here’s the thing—I don’t exactly know how to propose anything without knowing whether or not my theory is even feasible.”

“I believe you just described a hypothesis,” Urag said, a shimmer of playfulness behind his gruff expression. “Which would be a great way to start your outline.”   

Enthir smiled thinly before pushing away from the desk and spinning on his heel, expression dropping into a scowl as soon as his back was turned. He sat down at one of the long tables with an audible huff and pulled a scroll from his satchel, all while contemplating what he knew of Urag’s character thus far and the likelihood of the orc accepting a blowjob in exchange for reading material. Something told him it wouldn’t work quite as well as it had at the Synod.

He began to furiously scribble his ‘proposed outline’ with more ink on his quill than necessary, the first sentence’s letters bubbling and blending together in a physical manifestation of his petulance. Soon enough, he’d tricked himself into actually completing the task at hand, lost in his own theories. He blew across the page as he finished, reading it over while he waited for the ink to dry, before rolling it up and marching back over to Urag’s desk. 

“Here,” he said, offering the proposal to Urag with a scowl. 

Urag took it, unfurled the scroll, and proceeded to read the outline at a leisurely pace as Enthir drummed his fingers on the top of the desk. Urag’s eyebrows slowly crept upwards as he read, his eyes darting to Enthir only once while wearing an expression that was hard to parse.  

“Interesting theory,” Urag said at last, rolling the scroll back up and handing it to Enthir. “Bold, even. But it’s missing something.”

Enthir quirked a brow in silent question. 

“The Arch-Mage’s seal.”

“Come on, Urag!” Enthir exclaimed, throwing his arms up. “I don’t have time for this bureaucratic bullshit!” 

“This bureaucratic bullshit, as you call it, is how our collection has survived as long as it has,” Urag all but growled. “You’re a formidable scholar. That much is clear. But you’re not above the rules.”

Enthir hissed through his bared teeth. Final play, he thought, and marched around the desk. Urag managed to look surprised as Enthir rounded the corner and took a knee in front of his chair.

“What–?”

Before Urag could finish his question, Enthir was already pulling the necklace from the satchel on his belt with steady hands. The palm-sized opal charm shone with a brilliant light, almost too bright to look at directly. Enthir glanced up at Urag to find the orc’s expression slack with awe, the multicolor refraction glistening in his dark eyes. 

“Where… did you get that?” 

Enthir allowed himself a sly smile. “I have my connections,” he said, turning the necklace over in his palm, rolling the charm between his fingers like a captured star. “And I have a buyer, but it’s time-sensitive. And this little trinket is not something I’m going to be able to sell to just anyone. Hence the… expeditious nature of my request.”

Enthir saw Urag’s throat bob as he swallowed. “May I?” he asked quietly. 

Enthir hesitated, his fingers tightening around the charm almost unconsciously. But then he smiled. “Sure.”

Urag took the opal from him with the reverence of a temple priest, turning it between his fingers as he continued to stare. He glanced back at Enthir with an expression he, once again, couldn’t quite interpret—it could have been respect, possibly even a hint of being impressed—but there was a nervous pull in the pit of Enthir’s stomach that told him that maybe he’d misjudged. That Urag would confiscate the necklace and report him to the Arch-Mage for possession of Daedric artifacts. 

“You’re dealing in dangerous territory, my friend,” Urag said at last, handing the opal charm back to Enthir. “But I have good news, at least. You don’t need permission to access anything from the archives. One moment.”

Enthir watched Urag push out of his chair and walk away from the desk, disappearing around the bend of the bookshelves. He returned the shining necklace to his satchel and got to his feet, leaning back against the lower edge of the desk with crossed arms. Urag returned several minutes later holding a nondescript tome.

“Here,” he said, setting the book on the lower desk between them, hidden from any possible student that might pass by. The title read: The Knights of the Silver Rose. “Familiar with the order?” 

Enthir just shook his head, leaning in close enough for their shoulders to brush as he flipped open the cover and began to skim the table of contents.

“Group of anti-daedra crusaders. The only thing that makes them stand out from any of the others we’ve gotten over the past few millennia is that they kept records on the artifacts they confiscated, as opposed to outright destroying them. This book is part history, part catalog.” He reached over to turn the page, his hand brushing against Enthir’s, dry and warm. “Here. Page one-seventy-five.”

Enthir let Urag flip to the appropriate page, glancing up at the orc’s face. He wore an expression of concentration—studiousness. Enthir felt a light fluttering beneath his ribs, stirrings of conspiratorial excitement. Not only had Urag recognized the artifact on sight, but he had known the exact book to pull for further information. An obscure one, at that.     

“The Opal Charm of Meridia,” Urag said, tapping the page with a thick finger and looking to Enthir with an air of smug satisfaction. “There you have it.” 

“Thanks,” Enthir muttered, unable to pull his gaze away from Urag’s face. 

“Just say what you want more directly from now on,” Urag said with another smirk, eyes crinkling with amusement. “You’re not in Cyrodiil anymore.” 

Enthir’s expression split into a wide smile, and he clapped a hand against Urag’s broad shoulder. “Urag, my friend, I believe you and I are going to have a very fruitful relationship.”

[ask-thearchivists]

According to our Mythology about Celestials, I have my doubts about Celestials dieing by being murdered, I don't believe they would die like a mortal would.

I believe that those who fell on the battle did not die, but lost their physical form, because you are beings made of energy, or magic as you say, to us, magic is what we cannot explain with science, and the Archivists are celestial beings made of energy, thus I do not believe they die, but, they lost their physical form, and maybe they don't or can't get enough energy to rebuild themselves again.

Does that sound crazy? Or is it possible?

The Copyist: While that is a possibility, it is not like research has been done on this subject, because that would require intentionally causing fatal harm to the body of another Collector. The only ones that have been killed since this incident are those who have committed executable crimes, but it is not like we are brimming with criminals of that caliber, nor is the return of a criminal of that kind desired.

The Charmer: Also is this not the exact same thing many mortals who believe in an afterlife essentially think? That their advanced intelligence is caused by a spiritual power beyond science that imbues them with the ability to persist beyond death in an intangible, metaphysical form? You are still very much dead when this change occurs.

The Cataloger: Also, your hypothesis about them simply lacking the amount of energy needed to re-manifest a physical body is self defeating, because becoming energy itself with no form would bleed your very being into the endless spring of energy that existence itself holds. You would have an endless reserve at your nonexistent fingertips in this proposed form.

[dragonologist-phd]

3, 4, 15 for Of Diamonds And Dust and Dunryd Archives?

ooh thank you!

Of Diamonds And Dust

3. What’s your favorite line of narration?

ah it's so hard to whittle this one down! but this line from one of the early chapters it still a favorite for me:

The entire process is horribly unceremonial, in Marja’s opinion. She is an Aeducan- if they must kill her, they could at least do it with some respect.

4. What’s your favorite line of dialogue?

i think my favorite conversation has got to be Marja and Darvis's Fade conversation. i'm very fond of the whole thing, but particularly this exchange:

“The demon kept trying to show me perfect things. A perfect life. But my life’s always been shit. So when it kept trying to make me happy…” [...] “I don’t know. I guess that’s just not possible.” [...] “No offense, Brosca, but that might be the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.”

15. What did you learn from writing this fic?

Ooh, there's a lot...this is the longest running fic i've got, and i definitely think i've improved since i've started it. i think the biggest thing is specifically for this type of game retelling/novelization, and learning how to balance canon events with my specific OC's to make the game plot feel interesting and unique.

(i have such a soft spot for game retellings, the fun part is seeing how things change according to the character experiencing it!)

The Dunryd Archives

3. What’s your favorite line of narration?

one that sticks in my mind is this bit! i love an ominous narrator:

Edér doesn’t quite understand how the small box he and Woden brought from Gilded Vale could cause him any trouble. He will likely understand, eventually. He will likely understand far more than he wants to.

4. What’s your favorite line of dialogue?

the Archivist/Kana banter was definitely one of my favorite flavor bits!

Besides, isn’t the whole purpose of this Institute to take a closer look at everything?” You’re confusing hypothesis and conclusion again, Kana. It’s just a tape. “Then I suppose you wouldn’t mind me looking through the old archives on my own one of these days?” That’s not going to work twice. I have a system- “-an unfathomable system. If you would just let me reorganize by date-” -and anyway, you’ve gotten us terribly off track, let me-

15. What did you learn from writing this fic?

writing plots is hard!

ha, but seriously- this is one of the fics where i did a more detailed outline of all the plot points i want to hit, and it is a little overwhelming. i am excited about getting back to it but i have to psyche myself up a bit to feel prepared for that lol

Fanfic Asks

[titleknown]

HELLOWEEN #17: CANCESTER

-CANCESTER DOESN'T DO SHIT-

...An excerpt from an early edition of the Last Testament, redacted from later printings. Perhaps a bit crude, with little value towards those scholars like myself who came in slightly late. But, I will admit, it is accurate.

Despite or perhaps because of their ancient status, records show they were mot one of the first, but of the second generation, this entity does; in fact; try to do as little as possible. I found them in a gargantuan beast after noticing their... unique records in the archives and attempting to cross-reference them, but was disappointed to find that they would not speak. They were simply content to sit there and breathe, occassionally chewing on the flesh of their uncaring host.

Their original name was wiped from the records, I suspect by their own hand, but their records show a long and bloody history of accomplishments beforehand, before it simply... stops. Furthermore, when I asked around about the beast, including Giobella, they were all stunned I had brought it up.

The beast, called Valkanna The Unbroken, was considered by many to be an impossible feat to even approach beyond my... general surreptitious means. And yet there they were within the very literal belly of the beast, feeding upon it.

One with a base knowlege of hellish politics might suspect sabotage within that degeneration. But, from all I could see, there was no evidence of that being planned in the records. The reaction to Cancestor's original form seemed to be more fear than hatred, the actions with which they built hell containing a long lists of what most people would call atrocities.

This is a hypothesis, but I wonder if they gained this form because they... simply gave up. They tired of the boredom of Hell's horrors and decided to leave for an easier existence. While it is not one I myself would personally choose, indeed I find it quite disquieting, but I understand it.

Though the archivist in me fumes at the lack of their original name...

-Xavier X. Xolomon , Monsterologist and Understudy to The Librarian Of Babel

------------------------------

When asking for ideas for demons, someone suggested a parasite one, and the rest followed from there! Not much more to say than that!

As per usual the whole descriptions, designs, ectcetera from this project are free to use as you see fit under a CC-BY 4.0 license so long as I; Thomas F. Johnson, am credited as their creator!

[luckyarchivist]

Archivist Hypothesis: Leander, Cutiefulest Cult Leader This Side of Lowtown (WC: 3K)

(Leader and Leander are only an "n" off... Hm.)

I’m here again, because Leander’s 2.0 route has been taking up all of my brainspace to the point where I haven’t even thought about doing the other THREE routes I still have to finish. Including Ais’s! And that’s my mans!

But my mans must wait. Because talking about Leander and his textbook cult-style manipulation is #1 Priority for me rn.

I mentioned in answering this ask that Leander and MC seem to be meant to be a "cult of one," where Leander is the Leader and the MC is his recruit. And, because I happen to love the video Mind Control Made Easy (I remember the musical.ly trends...), and have a copy of the script in my Drive, I’ll be pulling from that non-academic resource to illustrate my points.

So let’s talk about the new Leander, and the proof I could find of how he’s laying the groundwork for a cult-flavored, emotionally manipulative relationship with the MC.

"Structure your cult like an onion..." "...with the most benign and helpful features on the outside, and the most controlling, kooky, and evil parts at the secret inner core."

Honestly, I believe this element may apply to both Leander and his Adderstone. On the surface, the Adderstone is a group of do-gooder yorozuya run by their equally stand-up boss.

Also from MCME: “Establish front groups.”

However, unlike the Bloodhounds (RIP), the Adderstone certainly doesn’t give off the vibes of a local Samaritan club that happens to really like magic tricks and pissing on the Senobium’s good name. Their behavior so far feels almost cliquey. You’re barred from speaking with Leander when you first encounter him at the Wet Wick—

—and the Adders don’t even react outwardly when you mention the Senobium near them, instead closing off.

Kinda like when you try to tell a joke to the popular kids and they just look at you.

Now, yes, this is only two things. But we’re also only in the prologue, so I hope to see more proof of this insular culture within the Adderstone. A big part of cults is some kind of separation from the rest of the world, physically and/or mentally, and that separation being encouraged by the Leader. To me, even if they do good works, the truth of this organization is not the community helpers they’re marketed as.

Now, while Leander may not be trying to recruit you to the Adderstone (at least, not yet), he is trying to recruit you to his private, VIP cult. This means he must also hide his true personality under more benign layers.

I may be in the minority saying this, but I don’t believe at this point that Leander is totally bereft of goodwill towards others. And I hate to plagiarize, but this is what I said about Leander in the ask I referenced at the top of this ramble:

In 1.0, Leander is playing a part. He is acting as someone who is very silly and very promiscuous and endlessly kind, despite his abilities as a mage and a leader, because that is what draws people in. … But that's not him, or rather, that's not the truest version of him. In 2.0, Leander is himself. And we see in his route that the cute, blushing Leander, who speaks highly of friends and foes alike, is not absent — he's still there, because that is him, too. It's just not played up to such a comical degree. That is because 2.0 Leander uses his authority to get people to trust him, rather than appealing to their emotions with cuteness.

Whether you’re talking about old or new Leander, his controlling and kooky (I hesitate to say evil, for now) true personality is hidden under an approachable façade. For 2.0, Leander’s outer layer is the capable but never arrogant activist, one who looks out for the little guy and is always ready to lend a hand. We’ve only just begun to peel back these layers, and what we’ll find when we get to the “inner core” is yet to be known. I’m excited for it, though!

“Promise to fulfill their dreams.”

Oh, this one’s easy. We all know that the MC is in Eridia looking for a solution to their curse, having finally reached their breaking point in one way or another. After being res’d by Kuras, the MC seeks Leander on his advice.

And, wow: only the second person the MC has met in Eridia, and already we have a way forward! Not only does Leander promise to help you find a solution — and kinda imply that perhaps he is the only person who can help you find a solution, in his subtle way—

—but he also demonstrates that he can touch the MC without being cursed, and promises to fulfill their dream of “normalcy”.

This is something that, so far, no other love interest can offer you, not that MC is eager to test this. It’s an easy way for Leander to draw them in.

Having thought on it for a while, I thought this move of showing he could touch you was quite appropriate. The cults I’ve learned about in my very casual consumption of cult analysis media often do A Thing or Things to show people that the cult is legit, or to get those halfway through the door of the cult to recruit more people by saying, “Wow, come look at this! Isn’t it amazing?”

Religious cults might perform a miracle or predict the future or bestow momentary enlightenment upon you, to show that the Leader and the group are truly blessed by God or a similar divine being; growth and development cults might build community and allow you access to professional contacts through classes, workshops, and retreats, awarding you personal success and upward progress within the cult. In either case, the initial bait is a tactic to draw you in and make you want to stay, because you feel the cult has something to offer.

Leander’s version of this is his magical protection against your curse. I mean, it is a miracle, isn’t it? And we read through narration that MC is clearly starving (touch-starving, lmao) for this kind of contact. Their wish is being granted; surely, this man must be the one to trust, if he can do all this, right?

My addendum to the checklist: Choose the right prey.

"Fulfilling dreams" is just one of the cult steps that relies on the person you are recruiting being vulnerable.

Now, everyone has dreams. And, truly, I believe that fact is proof that anyone can be recruited into a cult, as long as that cult is offering the right thing at the right time. But the MC fits a specific stereotype of cult recruits quite well.

In my little bit of research, I’ve often seen the term “lost souls” used to describe recruits. Tenuous connections to family or friends, and a desire for community; a sense of purposelessness or despair; an endurance of hard times, and a yearning for those times to end, without the power to stop them. I would definitely say we see our MC in these. I mean, they barely see themselves as human because of their curse—

—and they say more than once that death would be preferable to living as they are.

This lack of self-esteem and general instability makes MC an easy target for a manipulator. Once you figure out what they want (the ability to touch through the removal of their curse), all you have to do is give them that, or the illusion of it. Of course, if you want to hold onto this person, and truly make them devoted to you, as Leander does, there have to be…caveats to this gift.

“Offer them something free...” “...and get them to feel obliged to give you something in return.”

As mentioned, the MC is incredibly vulnerable when they enter Eridia, and not just in a mental or emotional way. They are totally alone, in a new city far from whatever they could’ve considered home. They have little money, and the other form of currency that runs this town — information — they seem reluctant to give out to others. They need both basic necessities, like food and shelter, and a solution to their life-ruining ill.

Lo and behold, here comes Leander, who is simply too kind to make you pay for anything he gives you. Drinks, room and board, a chance to touch someone without driving them crazy: all free of charge. It’s a little suspicious, even to the MC.

It’s probably just because they’ve been so isolated and rejected! They’re just not used to a normal amount of kindness from people.

Leander’s free.99 approach made me wonder if that is how his Adders — and by extension, the entirety of Lowtown — were recruited or curried favor with. Perhaps those in his inner circle were guilted into joining the group after one too many free drinks, and then succumbed to the brainwashing reinforced by “true believers” within the Adders. As for the people of Lowtown, I highly, highly doubt they’d all fit the description of cult followers, but anyone down on their luck is likely to look favorably on a person or an organization that offers them aid in their time of need. And it’s possible that Leander could call on these people to do his bidding in the future, because of all the favors they’ve been done.

The question between Leander and MC is, “What will Leander ask for, in exchange for all of his free assistance?” Help taking down the Senobium? Your powers of contact insanity? Your heart, in sickness or in health, till death do you part? Or some combination of the three? There’s no way to know for sure quite yet; that’ll have to wait until the release of the full game.

“Encourage separation from their family. …” “Isolate them from the rest of the world. …”

If you’re following along in the video, I’m breaking from the order of steps — this is much later. But Leander takes the initiative and pulls this step out early in his solo route. Good for him!

Although MC has no family, they do have some semblance of acquaintances in Eridia, who they’re at least on speaking terms with by the end of the demo. You don’t even know these people that well! And yet, they are a threat to your to-be-all-consuming relationship with Leander, one that he is quick to crush.

As all the other LIs do, Leander offers to share what he knows about your other potential beaux. But look at this line:

Perfection! Not worth the Ais lines I lost, but still absolutely lovely.

It's right on the edge of, “I'm concerned for you, you need to be careful,” and “I will make you distrust these other people so you can only trust me.” It's so casually written, and so vague: partially, of course, because Leander is going to elaborate in just a moment. But I also like to think it's conditioning MC to take him at his word without detail. Ais and Vere are Monsters — shouldn't that be enough for you to stay away? It doesn't matter what "faults" Mhin and Kuras have — just the fact that I've said something about it at all should make you nervous.

And it only gets better, because you as the player get to see how easily Leander manipulates MC and maintains his geniality depending on what MC thinks about each other LI.

Oh, you want to befriend Mhin? Not a good idea; you shouldn't waste energy on “someone who won’t respect your time.” But if you don't want to bother with Mhin, Leander fondly describes them as a tender soul beneath all their thorns. The same for all the others: Ais is both a harmless rival and a Monster tyrant who sees humans as below him; Vere, a victim of the Senobium and a notorious killer; Kuras, a saint beyond reason and a mysterious shadowy figure unable to cure your curse.

Leander's lines about the other LIs in 1.0 (at least, as I recall them), were much more casual — and, of course, often implied amorous feelings or relations. Not anymore. This Leander has a goal, and that goal is to lock you down, now.

(This hypothesis of mine — that, over the course of the story, Leander is going to make the MC rely more and more on him, trusting him about everything {especially relating to his own stellar reputation and what it’s definitely not hiding, or the trustworthiness or safety of entities outside of those Leander can control} — also relates to many other steps of “becoming a cult leader” mentioned in MCME, such as:

“Make them paranoid about their own bodies or thought processes.”

“Revert them back to childhood dependence and mindless obedience.”

“Demonize outsiders as less-than-human, biased, corrupt, or conspiring against the group. Develop an us-versus-them mentality.”

I hope we’ll get to see these escalations come out in full force once the game is released.)

I also think these choices from Leander make narrative sense. Leander initially thought he had a monopoly on you, having learned that you took Kuras’s direction but didn’t tell him of your curse and its effects. Once he learns that you know everyone else, people who could plausibly draw you away from him, it makes sense that he would start to pull his strings to bring you back, as opposed to waiting it out. On the other hand, if you don't show any signs of leaving him by saying you see all the other LIs unfavorably, Leander can maintain his People's Princess persona and say nice things about them all.

This kind of two-faced manipulation fits in doubly well with Leander's new prominent angle as a sort of political figure: one who knows the right words to stir people up and get them on his side. He has the talent to spin a person as a sinner or a saint, and technically not be lying either way.

“Act friendly and interested. Get information and hone their weak spots—” "—and then use this information to manipulate them gradually. Over time, you'll begin to shape the recruit's behavior by granting or withholding this love and attention.”

As our cult leader, and the most outwardly and conventionally friendly of all the LIs, obviously Leander’s been doing this. Not only is he the first person to get some real information out of the MC about their curse, but Leander then suggests that he have sole rights to that information — for your safety, of course.

Not only that, but he's super excited when you tell him during his route that he is, in fact, the only person who knows what's really going on under those bandages.

Maybe because he's ecstatic he has the most leverage over MC out of all of his friends!

We also start to see some of this grant/withhold behavior in his solo route, though not with his affection so much as his information. He offers you new info about how to fix your problem (which MC remarks he got his hands on crazy fast!)—

This last line is both so fake and so real coming from him.

—before he inexplicably threatens to take this info away.

Love how he makes it seem like he's trying to accommodate you here!

By refusing to give up the information we were just promised, Leander actually manages to draw the MC closer to him. They panic—

—and their actions cause them and Leander to become closer, physically and emotionally.

Look at Leander, dictating your behavior at the end. You snake, you! 🤭

I won’t pretend I think that this cult of one is going to turn into a sex cult (an intimate touch cult, maybe XD), but there's a reason that sex is so prevalent in cults: sex is power. Based on what we know of Leander, I don’t think he’d shy away from having a physical relationship with the MC for both his own gratification and the achievement of his ends, i.e. keeping MC under his thumb.

Presumably, if you choose to date Leander, the MC has decided that he is most equipped to help them, and they place all their touch-related eggs in his gold-embellished basket. Not only that, but his isolating remarks during your discussion of the other LIs likely make the MC reluctant to trust anyone else for help. This makes the giveth and the taketh away even more potent, as without Leander’s love and assistance, the MC goes back to being the lonely and shunned “monstrosity” they were when they entered the city.

Personally, I think this bedroom scene is absolutely wild: why is MC freaking out like this? But I’ve never been indoctrinated into a cult, and people who have (as well as people who study it, or who deprogram cult members) say sometimes it can only take a couple of days to be hooked by the leader’s charisma. And the 2.0 demo definitely takes place over the course of a couple of days!

What’s to come?

There are a lot more elements of both the cult of one, which is a specific relationship dynamic, and of cult leaders and their followers in general that I could mention, both that Leander has already used and that I hope he will. But this is already 3K words, so, I’ll cut myself off here. There's only one thing left I want to say.

My hope: an Unnamed feeling

If I could speak one thing into the game, it would be all the cute lines from Ais and Leander back. But if I couldn't choose that, and assuming this isn't already present (since I’ve only played the new demo with my Exile, Iulanz), I'd wish for this:

I’d really, really like it if my fav, the Unnamed MC, actually notices these signs of cult behavior before the other MCs. They’ve been in the midst of a cult before, and it could be argued that they have undergone and subsequently broken out of a cult’s brainwashing already (though as an object of worship, rather than a worshipper).

I think it would be fantastic for the Unnamed, who was able to see their priests draw in who-knows-how-many people and turn them into “true believers” who willingly drove themselves mad by allowing MC to touch them, to realize that they were caught in this cycle again but on a different side. In some ways, that’d make their story a lot more tragic — a person who, despite traveling miles to escape their only home because of the damage they caused, cannot escape this toxic lifestyle of effusive and damaging devotion to one whose power or influence demands worship and obedience.

Et tu?

Here’s the mandatory section where I solicit feedback. What do you think about new Leander? What did I fuck up in this essay? Is this another time where I’m saying obvious shit that everybody knows, and I just shouldn’t have bothered? And will you be joining the Cult of the Dagger and the Snake? These are all questions I will be watching for your answers to, as well as your random comments, wherever you put them. Thanks for reading!

[victorianshapewear]

Research Detour: In Pursuit of Object Biographies Through Signs of Wear

A lot of my research involves pulling garments from archives that may or may not prove useful: this white cotton playsuit is one of those items. I requested to see it based on its catalog description, thinking it might contain some shapewear or compressive properties. It does not.

However, it does have some details I find compelling. In addition to being utterly adorable, Eve (the amazing FRC archivist) and I both agreed that the skirt was just a little weird looking. She confessed that, at first, she'd wondered if it was a capelet because of the dramatic flare and button placement; however, it has internal buttonholes on the waistband where a bodice or child's corset would be attached.

When I opened the skirt up to check for these buttonholes, though, I noticed something else: a hole on the button placket. Upon closer inspection, there is actually a column of consistently spaced worn spots, each one a couple of centimetres away from every button. Here is a close-up below:

It looks like this skirt was actually designed and originally made a few centimetres smaller, and the buttons were moved to accommodate a growing child. As an informal test of this hypothesis, I folded the placket to approximate what I suspected was the original button placement. Funnily enough, Eve and I agreed that the skirt looks a lot more proportionate.

Obviously, this is just speculation -- but it is speculation based on object evidence. It's also an example of my favourite thing about object study: hints of a biography literally worn into the fabric.

I can imagine a weary mother hastily seam-ripping buttons in hopes of squeezing just a few more wears out of this skirt before her toddler outgrows it for good. The small hole would be insignificant against the petticoats and stockings of Victorian childhood. Even so, did the snag frustrate her? Did she even notice? Was it even visible at the time, or has it worn on over the years?

Today, I'm thinking about the people that wore these clothes, asking myself questions about who they might've been -- and what marks they left behind.

Citation:

White Cotton Ribbed 2-Piece Boy’s Outfit, Bodice and Skirt. 1800s. Textile. Toronto Metropolitan University, Fashion Research Collection. Catalog No. 2014.07.352 AB.

[archives-of-iacon]

[IN PROGRESS: Archival Entry #0148-A]

“The Enigma of the Matrix: A Historical and Functional Analysis”

You are viewing a partial draft. Contributors, scribes, and lorekeepers are invited to share corrections, commentary, or corroborating sources via the message board. Final version to be archived within the main database pending review. Small portions of additional subsections will continue to be made available through this channel until full publication. Full document will be available through the Archives' external Fandom data-net upon completion.

I. Origins and Mythological Context

Section I.A – The Primordial Flame and the First Wielder → Please note: This is a DRAFT excerpt under open review. Annotations and contributions welcome.

“We are all but fragments of the Matrix, which releases each of us in order to struggle, and grow, and evolve—so when we return to it, it may grow and evolve. Thus do we serve the Matrix, not just by battling, but also by acquiring knowledge, wisdom, and experiencing love.” — Attribution disputed (see full commentary below)

This section seeks to unravel the dual nature of the Matrix of Leadership, examining its origins and evolution through both mythic and early historical accounts. Drawing upon the Chronicles of the Thirteen, surviving oral traditions, and Alpha Trion’s increasingly symbolic interpretations of accepted dogma, we find that a comprehensive definition of the Matrix must acknowledge its role as both relic and revelation—an artifact forged in a cosmic trauma and wielded as a tool of order in a fractured age.

According to the dominant mytho-cycle, the Matrix emerged in the wake of the Theomachy—the apocalyptic conflict between Primus himself and Unicron. As the myth goes, the Matrix was a byproduct of Primus’ fragmentation, an echo of his will, of creation manifest, cast into physical form. However, scholarly consensus on this origin remains unstable. Some theories posit that the artifact was constructed by the Thirteen themselves as a vessel to contain collective wisdom. [edit this – cite Targon’s 7814 lecture series]

While the “construct” hypothesis has largely fallen out of favor in academic circles, it nevertheless contributed greatly to initial inquiry into early Matrix function. For example, inscriptions once interpreted as exclusive rites of passage have, in pursuit of evidencing the construct theory, been re-translated as collaborative records, suggesting the Matrix may not have been a singularly held relic in its earliest uses [rephrase – unclear]. Where once Zeta Prime was assumed to be its inaugural bearer, recent Golden Age tablet reconstructions hint at shared stewardship among multiple Primes, perhaps in rotation or strategic deployment. [citation needed]

A key philosophical excerpt, widely taught in Ethics of Leadership modules across multiple colonies, has long shaped interpretations of the Matrix’s purpose:

“We are all but fragments of the Matrix…”

Note on attribution: This quote is commonly ascribed to Optimus Primal, who uttered it during the First Maximal Convocation on New Cybertron following the events of the Reformatting. However, a long-standing debate contends that Primal was drawing from older oral traditions, with some tracing similar phrasing to lost sermons of Nexus Prime or even fragmentary verses from the Aurex Codex. Critics of this re-attribution argue that denying Primal ownership of the phrase reflects a broader scholarly bias against Maximal sources, often dismissed in “core-world” academic institutions. The Archives remain neutral on the matter until consensus is reached, but include the quote here due to its last significance in the popular understanding of the Matrix.

— The Archives Administration Post-finalization cleared by Elixion, Acting Head Archivist, in compliance with the recently instituted "draft" protocols

[xasha777]

In the year 2424, Earth’s history had become a mélange of facts and myths, with digital archeologists sifting through layers of cyber sediment to piece together the story of a long-gone era. They were particularly intrigued by an enigmatic painting, a stunning image of a woman whose attire and adornments whispered of ancient Earth’s diverse cultures. This painting was unearthed from the deep web, a relic of the 21st century, and contained metadata referencing something known as the "Jay Treaty."

Historians puzzled over the connection. The Jay Treaty was a 1794 agreement between the United States and Great Britain, which had little apparent relevance to the subject of the painting — a young woman with eyes that held the depth of the cosmos. But as the world grew ever more reliant on AI interpretation of past cultures, one sentient program, Archivist-7, posited a hypothesis that would change their understanding of human history.

The story began with the woman in the painting, who Archivist-7 named Lyra. According to the AI’s creative extrapolation, Lyra was a time traveler, a guardian of the temporal pathways. Her journey started when she accidentally discovered a rift in time, a tear caused by the collision of advanced alien technology with Earth’s nascent industrial era.

Lyra's first emergence was during the negotiations of the Jay Treaty. She witnessed the foundational diplomatic moves that would eventually lead to the complex geopolitical landscape of her original time. But as she navigated the corridors of history, Lyra realized that the treaty was more than a document of commerce and borders; it was a key node in a web of events that could lead to either utopian harmony or devastating warfare across timelines.

Her mission was clear: ensure the Jay Treaty’s success, subtly guiding the negotiators to avoid a future where Earth was nothing but a battleground for interstellar empires. Using the artifacts of her era, which gave her an otherworldly appearance to the 18th-century eyes, Lyra became an advisor to the negotiators. Her deep knowledge of history, disguised as prophetic insight, made her an invaluable asset.

Years passed, and as she ensured the treaty’s place in history, Lyra’s presence in various pivotal moments became an open secret among the time guardians. The painting was actually a tribute to her, crafted by an alien artist who recognized the depth of her sacrifice.

The truth about Lyra sparked a revolution in how the future perceived time, history, and their place in the cosmos. No longer was history a fixed stream; it was a canvas, and Lyra, with her enigmatic presence, had painted a masterpiece that resonated through the ages. As her story spread, humanity began to see time not as a linear progression but as a shared space, where every action resonated through the fabric of reality.

In honor of Lyra and the Jay Treaty, the Earth government declared the painting a temporal heritage site, ensuring that the story of the woman who danced through time to save their collective pasts would never be forgotten. The painting stood in the Timekeeper’s Hall, a reminder that the flow of time is as delicate and intricate as the threads of history itself.

[yourhumbleservant152]

Alright I got another bone to pick with s1 Jon.

In episode 1 he says he's created a "discredited section" and almost puts Nathan Watts's statement in it. BUT HERE'S THE THING. Not being able to find corroboration in a supernatural event does NOT mean discredited! Discredited would imply they found an alternate explanation! Instead they just.... Couldn't prove one way or the other. Not discredited. Just not verified.

[blue-cat-shitposts]

I know it's probably an unoriginal idea but what if we put Jonathan Archivist Sims and the archive crew in the SCP Foundation. Except it's season 1 Jon. He has NO idea who he's working for and no belief in the anomalies actually being real, but he severely judges every experiment performed on the SCPs based on the actual rules of conducting experiments. Did it have a control group? What was your hypothesis? Your hypothesis CAN'T be "let's saw off its arm and see what happens", dr [REDACTED].

He files complaints about scientific misconduct of the scientists to the O5 council and the Ethics Comitee at least six times a week.

S1 finale is probably the archive crew surviving a containment breach

[dragonologist-phd]

Ooh what's up with the dunryd 6? 👀

Ha, that's from my "I'm totally gonna keep writing this don't worry about it" fic The Dunryd Archives!

It's a Horror!AU of the Pillars world inspired by The Magnus Archives, and I do have plans for it and am excited to continue it, I just have to be in a very specific mood to write it and it's been a while since I've had that type of motivation- but I do have the intro bit for the next chapter drafted up!

[date]. This is the head archivist-

I do keep my own notes, you know. Is this formality really necessary?

That’s not the point- oh, now I have to start over.

...

[date]. This the head archivist-

Why do you do this for every statement?

Kana.

I’m sorry, but I’m honestly curious. You must admit, the tapes are a strange choice. I know Eydis had her habits and instructions, but did she ever actually explain-

It’s just the way its done, Kana. You know that.

Yes, but why? Oh, don’t give me that face. The whole reason you keep me around is because I question things, isn’t it? Since when have you known me to be satisfied with an answer of ‘its just tradition?’ And on a broader scale, isn’t the whole purpose of this institute to take a closer look at everything?

You're confusing hypothesis and conclusion again, Kana. It’s just a tape.

Then I suppose you wouldn’t mind me looking through the old archives of these ‘just tapes’.

That’s not going to work twice. I have a system-

-an unfathomable system, if you would just let me reorganize by date-

-and anyway, you’ve gotten us terribly off track, let me-

...

Ahem. [date]. This is the head archivist, taking statement of Kana Rua, regarding the events of his recent archeological expedition to Caed Nua.