#demo goblin

[wonder-waffle93]

[comicsplusnsfwmax]

I can't wait to get mine

[yolkbyte]

My stupid creature that I hate

[dizzybelle]

obligatory 2024 art recap image the latter quarter of the year i really hit my stride I Wonder Why

[randomtangle]

NextFest Demos General Review

I'm gonna write what I think of the demos I played this NextFest. Each title is a link to the Steam Page, be sure to grab yourself a demo if NextFest isn't over (June 10-17, 2024). If not, some of them might still have public demos, and some of them might be out by the time you read this!

NextFest has ended but demos still remain! Check them out or wishlist them if they’re in pre-release.

500 Caliber Contractz

Mario 64 but you have a high-caliber sniper rifle. It's honestly more often a movement tool than a weapon, and the movement tech in this game is quite interesting. I haven't gotten it quite down yet. I’ll write more about it later.

Aero GPX

Reminds me of Kirby Air Ride.

Airborne Empire

This game is seriously addictive. I meant to give it 30 minutes (around the minimum time I’ve been giving there games), and it took 3 hours. The whole conceit of the game is that you are building an airborne city. All sorts of things matter, such as the tilt (you can’t just pile it all onto one side), the lift (you need to add fans, which need to be manned by citizens, to allow for enough lift to build more stuff), and propulsion (buildings will slow you down, so you can build propellers and stuff to help you move faster), as well as food and water and coal) to keep everything running) and various building resources which you gather by deploying workers to deposits on the land using a hangar. Light is also important to stop accidents at night… there’s all the little systems you need to manage. I really love it. Usually in city builders I get really stressed about strategic placement and how me not leaving space next to that big useless rock turns out to be a mistake when I advance in the tech tree and learn the rock is actually the most useful and I trapped it under an underpass. Airborne Empires can have the “I didn’t know how big this building is so I didn’t leave enough space here” problem (I really wish I could preview buildings before I had the resources to build them), but it’s mostly fine. The tilt and lighting systems lead to making a spread-out base. You recruit more citizens by hiring them from settlements below, but you’ll have to feed them all, and at least where I am in the game, you can only gather food and water, not generate it.it’s visually very cute, all the people are birds, and the talking sounds are birdcalls. It’s pretty chill most of the time, even the occasional pirate attack isn’t that bad, especially if you get defense towers, since you can repair pretty quickly. I could play the game for days on end, honestly. I love it.

Akimbot

A very fun 3D platformer, reminds me of Ratchet & Clank, Crash Bandicoot, Skylanders, etc. The whole game looks really nice and stylized. I played with the Acid Sprayer and found it to be very fun. The voice acting and dialogue were a smidge lacking at times (Exe feels compelled to go "Tch" every time Shipset talks, and Shipset cannot shut up, but it didn't annoy me.) Overall I'm excited to see how the full game turns out!

Aloft

I didn’t find Aloft interesting. It’s not that I don’t like survival games, per se, it’s that my patience with survival games is really low. (300 hours of DST has changed me.) They need to be really interesting for me to stick, because if not, I sink untold hours into them getting progressively more and more annoyed. Aloft is probably someone’s cup of tea, but it ain’t mine. Sorry.

Beyond These Stars

Coming Soon!

Dice & Fold

A very fun roguelike deckbuilder game that's more about rolling dice than drawing cards. Enemies have slots you must fill to defeat them. Some enemies require exact rolls (say, a 3), and some just have numbers that have to be reduced (say, a 5, and you could put a 2 and a 3 in it to complete the slot). And there's more like doubles slots, slots that only accept odd or even numbers, etc. Your hero has an ability that you can earn by filling in the required slot on your hero card, there's all sorts of items and companions that alter the game in little ways... it's really fun and I'd love to play more of it in the future!

Dimhaven Enigmas

I love the graphics, just to get that out of the way. Pixilated textures are to die for, I’m a huge sucker for PSX or DS/3DS-style textures. It’s an interesting puzzle game, it’s pretty intriguing, but dangit if I’m not bad at puzzles, lmao. It’s tough! It really makes you work for the answer, I like that, but I can’t really write review of a completed demo because of it. Try it out!

Dustborn

It seemed… interesting. The graphics look good, the fight mechanics seem to have a bit of meat, but are sorta unseasoned. (They don’t feel like they flow that easily into each other but that might just be a personal skill issue.) The humor and writing isn’t really my cup of tea, it feels sorta like they’re always talking, and the lines in combat seem to overlap sometimes but I’m sure that’s unintended. Idk if I personally will be buying the full game, I’d rather wait for a review of the full game to see if I wanna buy it, but I don’t hate it.

Gladio Mori

Gladio Mori explores an interesting concept of a physics-based medieval weapon fighting game that oftentimes feels a bit like TABS if you were in complete control of a unit. It's definitely interesting. Right now there's only 3 weapons and no move editor, but I feel like the simple existence of a move editor means that in the future, there's untold levels of complexity to be found in this game. Has multiplayer!

Goblin Cleanup

It’s fun. There’s not much to say about it, as it’s just a simpler Viscera Cleanup Detail, but it’s cute, honestly. There’s some interesting quirks and level progression things, such as being able to light slimes on fire to be semi-infinite, faster mops, and you can do a lot with traps and stuff. Sorta simple as-is, unless I just missed the really cool stuff. (I haven’t played all of the demo yet, only the first two levels.)

I Am Your Beast

This game is amazing. The presentation of cutscenes is phenomenal; I really love the big bold letters and colored background. It's simple but it does its job. The voice acting is great, too. And the gameplay is just amazing. The amount of speed and precision you can move and attack with is on point. I'd suggest everyone

Kaiserpunk

Coming Soon!

KILL KNIGHT

Kill Knight has some wicked graphics. They look like they’re crackling with an unchained energy, power so great it corrodes the world. The gameplay is tough, I can barely survive a few waves, but the combat is promisingly meaty. Sword kills fuel the heavy weapon, and enemy drops can fuel the bfg thing (forgot its name). I’m not used to twin-stick shooters so I don’t know how much is innovative and interesting and how much is in every twin-stick shooter, but I certainly found the game really interesting. Really tough, but really interesting.

MACHI KORO With Everyone

Only the offline tutorial as of now, which is kinda annoying since i can't even try to run an offline hotseat game. But, it teaches Machi Koro pretty well. I like Machi Koro I like this game. It is nothing more or less than being just Machi Koro.

Metal Slug Tactics

Coming Soon!

Once Human

Open-World Survival Horror MMO. I’m only into survival horror, really, and was playing alone (I’m not that into MMOs except with friends). The systems seem okay, the combat is about what you would expect with heavy and light attacks and simple chains… the character creator is pretty good. (And I love myself a good character creator.) Not my cup of tea.

One Btn Bosses

It’s a bullet hell but you only need one button. Your “ship” moves on a ring outside the boss, and you use the button to change directions. The faster you’re moving (you gain more speed the longer you travel in a given direction), the faster you shoot. That’s about it for the systems (that I could see, at least. I haven’t beat it.) it’s fun, I’d recommend it to anyone. After all, you only need to press one button!

SCHiM

A very cute puzzle game where you play as the shadow of this one guy. You jump from shadow to shadow to navigate the levels. The art is beautiful accented neutrals, the music and sound design is really cute and musical, reminiscent of Untitled Goose Game. It’s really cute!

Screw Drivers

It’s Lego Technic as a racing game. To be completely honest, it just didn’t click well with me. The building aspect of it felt like every Lego Technic I’ve ever built, plus actual engineering. You need to connect the engine to the axel to the drive wheels, and set those to steerable… I know that’s simple, but it’s a bit too complicated for me to play that much. I’m a simple woman. Seemed fun to drive the cars, tho.

SWORN

It’s Hades but with Arthurian Legend. I don’t really know what more to say. It controls like Hades (well, I played Hades on the Switch, so maybe keybinds are different than I expect) it’s got similar systems of boons, in-level currency and cumulative secondary currencies, et cetera, et cetera. This isn’t a slight against it, I really like it! I can’t really speak for its writing since I can’t find much and I’m sure not all of it is in as of yet, but what I could find in-game was interesting. I don’t quite understand the world and how the Holy Grail and pagan deities and King Arthur all feed into why these monsters are about, but I’m assuming that’s elaborated on as you go through. I’d be willing to get the full game.

Tactical Breach Wizards

I adore this game. The graphics are really cute, the combat puzzles are really interesting and fun (I like this genre of games, I’m totally blanking on the name tho) and the writing… oh the writing. The writing is so good. The jokes are right up my alley, the story is really interesting, the world is the right amount of absurd that the characters can be deadpan about always having newt bones on their person that you can tell that it’s just as much of a half-joke in-universe as you’d expect. It’s really fun and I’m hoping to play the full game upon release.

Tavern Talk

I loved this game. The sound design is so peaceful and soothing, the writing I really like, there’s a lot of good jokes and just tender moments. I love Fable, the main other character in the game. They’re an anxious ranger who wants to get out into the world and go on adventures, they’re so cute. The other character, Caerlin, is nice too. The art is beautiful, I’m really invested in it now! I need to get the full game!

Tiny Glade

Cute game where you can do a bit of finely-controlled procedural generation of a little landscape, and take photos of it. I played game last NextFest called Dystopika that was like this but with a cyberpunk city. Tiny Glade is cute, simple, and allows you to make little houses and landscapes. It’s cute, I’m sure people will like it, but it just ain’t my genre.

[gribbledgrots]

Kulto Maldito - Jódete Jesús

Scorching Bolivian black metal released in 2018. Fast frenzied first wave black metal style riffing spliced with slower, guttural, heavier death metal passages, with that sort of messy fuzzy caveman black metal style production. There's also the old old school thrash riff thrown in here and there. Vocal style alternates between that distinctive throaty mid range bark, and overdubbed demonic style gutturals. If I were to describe this band - think Sarcofago jamming Deicide after 10 beers. Solid 7/10 from me.

Favourite tracks: 'Jódete Jesús' & 'Oskuro Poder'.

[willfulscarlet]

Inspired by the (deserved, tbh) mocking I got at work today:

Roy doesn’t entirely grok how obscure his taste in music is. Not in a gatekeepy ‘I liked them before they were cool’ way, just a random blind spot that Ok, it’s not stadium rock or like, Beyoncé, but they were on the soundtrack for a decently well-received video game! Their album cracked the top 40! (in Belgium. For one week). That’s not obscure!

[dailyrandomwriter]

Day 726

So apparently the Steam Next Fest is back, and I’m not sure when that happened. I could have sworn there was one during the summer, or maybe it was the other game fests hawking their wares at me during the summer.

Oh well, time hasn’t gained back its meaning since 2020.

I certainly couldn’t say no to a few (or more than a few) game demos. Not only because it allows me to know what I’m wishlisting, but it allows me to experience the things other people have made, whereas, even if I wishlist it I might never get around to it. There is a reason why it has taken me… over a decade to play Cult Simulator. 

Here are the games I’ve played so far…

Trash Goblin

Trash Goblin is where you’re a goblin who cleans up, fixes trash found and re-sells it in their shop. There doesn’t seem to be much of a story at the current moment, but the mini games that allow you to discover your treasures among the detritus and clean them up work very well, are satisfying to play and I like discovering all the items you can find in this game. I will say, for myself, beyond discovering what items I can uncover, there isn’t much driving the game. There is a potential game loop in the ability to buy visual upgrades to your shop and living space, but it’s very small at the moment.

I still have this one on my wishlist, because it’s a very adorable idea and I’m rooting for it.

Pairs and Perils

Pairs and Perils is fascinating, because it’s taking the concept of the memory game where you find cards in pairs and turning it into a combat mechanic. The idea is that the game board has pairs of cards, adventurers and their weapons. You have three tries to pair up the right adventurer with the weapon to defeat the monster. Failing three times will allow the monster to attack you. Adding a bit of complication to this, is sometimes the board will have traps, and you have to remember where the traps are to avoid them. There are also power ups for your player character to help as you do a dungeon so you’re not completely left to the whims of your memory. 

I tried this one because the idea was fascinating. Though I will admit, unless you naturally have a very good memory, this is the kind of game you want to play in the right headspace. If you’re not in the right mindset while playing or having a bad run, this game can get frustrating. This idea is really neat, I don’t know if it’s for everyone.

Lost But Found

It’s rare I get to play hidden object games that are not just point and click narratives, or where I’m looking at a complex picture to find objects hidden within. In Lost But Found, you’re playing the role of a person who mans the Lost and Found of an airport, and it’s your job to reunite passengers with their lost items. Items arrive on a conveyor belt, which you then put onto your table, and wait for people to come claim them. 

While it has some time management to it, it becomes a hidden object game, because as you progress, more and more items are piled onto your table, forcing you to rearrange those items so you can find them easier when someone comes calling. Complicating matters is that sometimes people will come, the object isn’t there (as far as you can tell) and you have to tell them. They’ll leave their number for you to call them back once you find the object.

It was a lot of fun to play. As much as I hate to admit it though, I think this game could use a fail state. There isn’t really any repercussions for not servicing a customer (only you just get less money at the end of the day to buy upgrades). Because this is a game dependent on the player to be effective in how they arrange their items as they learn what these items are, a fail state can drive a player to be better and last longer next time.

The fail state doesn’t have to be not servicing a customer, it could also just be reaching a certain amount of money at the end of each day.

Those are a few (but not all of the games) I’ve played so far. I also still have more demo games, but I have other things to do…

[chickenmcnuggies]

woag. golems

[bonesythebonedaddy]

Finished redesigning my third oc I made back in November. She’s a goblin demon who used to mine minerals from dangerous magical dungeons. Her name is bibi and she likes to write cringey, raunchy, romance novels as a hobby in her spare time.

[gamegoblinvt]

Schedule for 10/9/2023

Got more games comin' up all you ghouls and ghosts

Monday - El Paso, Elsewhere wrap-up then Cyberpunk 2077 Phantom Liberty! El Paso, Elsewhere is like the coolest game I've played in a long time, you gotta check it out!

Wednesday - Alan Wake Wednesday - Everybody's favorite caffeine addicted novelist is back and he's pissed >:(

Thursday - Discord Watch Party: Twin Peaks, we are starting the series Twin Peaks we'll watch maybe two or three episodes a session

Friday - Spooky Shorties. Playing a bunch of demos and short games from Steam Next Fest and beyond! Gonna be a lot of bit-sized bits of upcoming games from the indie scene!

Saturday - Monster Roadtrip. Collaborating with the #FrightFight crew: KweenOrion, ShivaSenpai, MaikuDrop, FaerliVT and me are hitting the open road looking for monster mischief!

[melancholy-thots]

I May Be a Little Biased...

One post and very few screenshots since it was very hard to get screenshots of this game. But I played the whole demo and have some things to say! (Sorry about the loading symbol on the first pic, my desktop clears my clipboard sometimes and tumblr was having a hard time processing this one, so I screenshot from tumblr)

So why am I biased? Because I actually backed this on kickstarter. Yes! I'm so lucky to be in a position to finally be experimenting with stuff like backing kickstarters that I find interesting. It's been super cool and really interesting to see how this kind of process works. There's a lot of "we're working on x feature" which is cool. I was hoping for like "x feature keeps causing the player character to explode and max out every romance option at the same time." But there's not that much detail. Makes sense, just a note for other people who were thinking about kickstarting stuff.

On to the actual demo! It's adorable. I love the small number of characters we've gotten to see so far. You can tell there's a lot of love put into all the little interactions. I'm really excited to see how relationships with characters progress because it's already clear that some of them will come back multiple times for multiple needs that relate back to how the first thing went. I think. Actually it might be the same no matter what.

I didn't get any pics of the gameplay, but it's really fun. Super chill and you can just zone out and click click click away the dirt. Gives very Powerwash Sim vibes, but that game messes up my motion sickness. Oh! For my motion sick besties out there: try this demo. It's free and the camera moves very little, so I think that's why it was really good for me. But it's a cute little 3D puzzley game that I can play for hours with no tummy ache.

[cortexreaver]

always trips me put when nwn cc predates one of the expansions like i open up a 2da the creator included and the lines end on stuff added in shadows of undrentide im out here handling artifacts and shit..... 🏺🔍

[romerona]

Ethera Operation!!

You're the government’s best hacker, but that doesn’t mean you were prepared to be thrown into a fighter jet.

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Awkward!Hacker! FemReader

Part III

You stared at the inside of your closet like it had personally betrayed you.

Phoenix’s words echoed in your head 'something that doesn’t scream high-stress lab goblin' which, okay, was technically unfair. You did have clothes, you had plenty of workwear. Dark slacks, fitted blazers, collared shirts and what not.

You weren’t a lab goblin, you were a certified government-grade digital menace. Totally different.

Still, she wasn’t wrong.

You flipped through hangers, each one offering some variation of government-issue chic. Professional, structured and mostly black. Great for briefings and tech demos, but utterly useless for looking like someone who belonged at a bar full of cocky yet unfairly hot aviators and sunburnt adrenaline.

It wasn’t that you were trying to be one of those people who say, “Oh, I only wear comfy clothes, I don’t even own makeup, haha,” like some badge of honor. You weren’t. Truly. You actually liked getting dressed up— when there was a reason, but you rarely had one.

Working in cyber intelligence didn’t exactly come with a thriving social calendar. Most days, your job happens in your house or sealed secret rooms under terrible fluorescent lighting, surrounded by other chronically caffeinated keyboard warriors who wouldn’t think going to a bar is fun... well, at least your friends don't think so.

So your off-hours wardrobe? Pretty much whatever was clean, soft, and didn’t have crumbs in the pockets.

But buried at the back—wedged between a surplus hoodie and a pair of emergency heels—you found it.

A dress.

You’d bought it on a rare, feral trip to a department store clearance rack, swayed by the fact that it had pockets and didn’t itch. It wasn’t flashy, but it was soft and kind of cute, even if a little wrinkled. You remembered holding it up in the mirror under brutal fluorescent lighting and thinking, Huh. Not terrible.

You pulled it on, added a jacket that looked slightly less formal than your usual outerwear, and gave yourself one last look in the mirror.

You didn’t look like a security clearance badge or a drone operator or someone whose last full-body adrenaline spike happened in a simulated crash dive.

You looked… good. Put-together enough to pass for someone with a social life. Which, frankly, was more than you could say for most of the past year.

The dress skimmed just right, the jacket added a hint of structure, and your hair, while still slightly chaotic, managed to fall in that strategic mess kind of way instead of I lost a fight with my pillow. Your face looked… soft, less “up all night decrypting hostile intel,” more “hey, I could flirt with a bartender if I had to.”

You blinked at your reflection.

Damn. It's been a second since I felt like this.

There was a knock on the door—two quick taps—and then Phoenix’s voice. “You decent?”

You grabbed your bag and opened the door. "Hi"

She took one look at you and smirked. “Well, damn. Who knew the Doc had legs?”

You froze in the doorway. “Too much?”

“Depends," She raised an eyebrow. "Are you trying to win a bar fight or start one?”

You blinked. “…Neither?”

“Then you’re good.” She stepped back, still grinning, "If anything, we might need to keep you away from the pilots. Some of 'em are barely house-trained.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the flicker of warmth that crept up your neck. It wasn’t a you’re trying too hard kind of comment. More of a huh, didn’t know you had that in your arsenal one.

“Come on,” she said, already turning. “First round’s on you.”

You locked up behind you and followed, still tugging self-consciously at the hem of your dress as you walked.

Soon enough, you stepped into the bar and immediately regretted every life choice that led you here.

The place was loud, warm, and packed.

It smelled like beer and sweat and salt and confidence. The kind of confidence that came from people who routinely defied physics and came back grinning. You tugged at the hem of your dress instinctively, suddenly aware of every inch of exposed skin and every decision that had brought you to this exact moment.

Pilots laughed over pool tables, boots scuffed against the floor, music blared from a jukebox in the corner. The whole place crackled with energy you weren’t sure you belonged to. It was like stepping into someone else’s world, where the rules were different and everyone spoke in call signs and inside jokes.

Phoenix, of course, didn’t even blink. She moved through the crowd with practiced ease, greeting a few people with nods, bumping knuckles with others. She had that home-field advantage thing going on. The kind of comfort that came from knowing no one here could outfly you or outdrink you.

You stuck close for a few steps, then leaned in toward her over the music.

“I’ll grab us drinks,” you said, gesturing vaguely toward the bar.

Phoenix gave you a look like she was about to argue—then thought better of it.

“Alright, I'll be by the pool tables,” she said, pointing at where the tables were. “Two beers, whatever’s on tap. And don’t let anyone hustle you into a conversation about call signs unless you’re ready to hear about fly accidents and bad tattoos.”

You snorted. “Noted.”

With that, you turned toward the bar, and you didn’t notice him.

Didn’t see how Rooster’s laugh died mid-sentence when his eyes caught on you from across the room. Didn’t register the way he straightened slightly from his lean against the bar, the way his gaze tracked you with something half-stunned, half-something-else.

You were too busy weaving through the crowd, trying not to look like you were in the middle of an identity crisis, squeezing between a guy in a bomber jacket and someone loudly retelling the story of a near-miss over Guam, edging your way toward a clear spot at the counter.

The music thumped in your ribs, and you adjusted your jacket. Tapped the edge of your nails against the wood to feel like you belonged here.

You were just beginning to feel the tiniest bit grounded when your phone buzzed in your jacket pocket.

You fished it out instinctively, screen glowing with a text from your mom that read,

Are you eating real food or just caffeine again? I read on Facebook about how it shrinks your brain.

You snorted under your breath and started typing a reply, thumbs already moving—

“Careful.”

You jumped and looked up and there he was.

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw.

Closer than you expected.

He was already smirking—more amused than smug, but still with that slow-rolling confidence like he lived in places exactly like this. One hand cradled a drink; the other gestured toward your phone.

“I’d put that away,” he said. “Unless you’re looking to buy a round for the whole bar.”

You blinked. “Wait—what?”

He nodded toward a sign nailed just above the taps—worn, wood-burned, and clearly older than some of the lieutenants here. It read:

DISRESPECT A LADY, THE NAVY, OR PUT YOUR CELLPHONE ON MY BAR. YOU BUY A ROUND

Your eyes widened. “That’s real?”

Rooster gave you that maddeningly easy grin. “It’s real enough when someone’s watching.”

You immediately shoved your phone back into your pocket like it had personally betrayed you. “Okay, that feels like entrapment.”

“More like tradition, "He took a sip of his beer, clearly enjoying it this way too much. "Penny enforces it and trust me—you do not want to be on her bad side.”

“Wait, did anyone see?" You glanced around, paranoia kicking in. "Is it too late? Am I financially ruined?”

He leaned in, lowering his voice just enough that it skimmed across your skin. “Nah. You’re good, I caught it in time. Consider it a rescue.”

You gave him a look. “How heroic of you.”

“That’s what they call me.” He raised his bottle in a mock toast.

You snorted under your breath, the last bit of nerves starting to bleed out of your shoulders. “What, Captain Save-A-Phone?”

“Could be worse,” he said, eyes flicking over you again—quick, but not subtle. “I’ve been called worse.”

You rolled your eyes, but the corner of your mouth twitched before you could stop it. “Thanks for the save, I guess.”

He tapped the rim of his bottle against the bar. “Anytime, Doc.”

The bartender—a pretty woman with stunning blue eyes and the kind of effortless confidence you’d need three drinks to fake—stepped into view. She gave Bradley a nod, like they knew each other well (of course they did), then turned her attention to you with a warm, curious smile.

“What can I get you?” she asked, voice smooth but edged with something sharp, like she didn’t miss much.

You blinked. “Oh—uh, two beers. Whatever’s on tap.”

Bradley made a quiet sound beside you—definitely a laugh, definitely at your expense—but you caught the flash of amusement in the bartender’s eyes, too.

“Coming right up,” she said smoothly.

As she turned to pour, Rooster tapped the bar twice with two fingers and said casually, “Put it on my tab, Penny.”

“You don’t have to,” you said quickly, shifting the beer money in your hand. “I told Phoenix I’d buy the fir—”

He cut you off with a look. Not sharp, not smug—just easy, steady, and mildly amused. “She won’t care, I’ll let her bully me at pool later to make up for it.”

You frowned. “I’m serious, Bradley, you don’t have to.”

He didn’t flinch at the use of his name, if anything, his eyes crinkled slightly, like he liked the way it sounded coming from you.

“I know I don’t,” he said, already lifting his drink to his lips. “Take it as a congratulations on your first week in the Navy.”

You groaned, cringing a little. “God. Don’t say it like that. I already feel like I need a morale patch that says ‘I’m not supposed to be here.’”

“You survived five sim runs, didn’t cry, didn’t puke, and only mildly panicked under G-force, that’s a win.” He tilted his glass in a casual toast.

You raised your brows. “You set the bar real low, huh?”

“It’s not the bar that matters. It’s clearing it.” Bradley grinned, "Either way, you're one of us now."

You rolled your eyes, but the corners of your mouth tugged up anyway. He wasn’t teasing to embarrass you—he meant it, and that was somehow worse and better and worse again.

“Temporarily.”

“Mmhmm.” He took another sip, then added, almost offhanded, “By the way, you clean up dangerously well, Doc.”

Your stomach did a small, unapproved somersault.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you said lightly.

“Should,” he said, already stepping back with that damn lazy confidence of his. “’Cause it was.”

A beat passed, the music changed, something with a heavier beat and just enough bass to rattle the glasses.

You reached up to adjust your jacket, only now realizing how warm the bar had gotten, or maybe that was just him, standing too close and way too comfortable.

You turned to him, trying to focus on literally anything but the way his big arms looked in that damn Hawaiian blazer; it was clear he did pull-ups for fun.

“Do you always hang out here?” you asked. “Or just when unsuspecting civilians walk in and almost rack up a bar tab the size of a defense budget?”

He raised his bottle in a half-toast. “Could be both.”

Just then, Penny returned with the beers, setting them down in front of you with a quick glance between the two of you that said she was clocking everything.

“Enjoy,” she said, and moved on.

"Thanks," You reached for them both, fingers brushing condensation, but Rooster was already lifting one.

“Come on,” he said, nodding toward the back of the bar. “I’ll show you where we are.”

You blinked. “We?”

He was already moving, weaving effortlessly through the crowd like he did this every weekend. Which, judging by the way people kept nodding or shoulder-tapping him, he probably did.

He was already walking, weaving through the crowd with the easy confidence of someone who knew the terrain. You followed—beer in hand, pulse doing strange things—trying not to stare at the way his shirt shifted across his back or how everyone seemed to move from his way like he belonged to this place in a way you couldn’t fake if you tried.

You spotted Phoenix before you spotted the others, posted up near the pool tables, one hand on her hip, the other holding a cue like she was about to ruin someone’s night.

As you approached, she looked at you both, raised an eyebrow, and smirked.

“You get lost, Doc?” she asked, taking her beer with one hand and motioning you over with the other. “Or did Rooster here decide to give you the full VIP tour?”

“She was about to buy everyone a round,” Rooster said innocently, sipping his drink. “I intervened.”

You rolled your eyes, the last of your nerves slipping into something looser, lighter. You handed her the drink and shook your head. “Next time I’ll bring cash and a fake name.”

“Smart,” Phoenix said, already lining up her shot.

That’s when he appeared.

The smug blonde from your briefing, the one with the impossible bone structure and the kind of confidence that came standard-issue with being extremely good-looking and knowing it.

“Well, if it isn’t our favorite payload,” he drawled, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You turned slowly, beer halfway to your lips. “I’m sorry?”

He gave you a quick once-over—same as in the briefing room—but this time, his grin was dialed down just enough to pass as charm instead of mockery.

“I mean, you are the most heavily guarded piece of government property in the room,” he added, taking a sip of his beer. “Just odd to see the brains of the operation drink.”

Rooster made a low sound beside you, half-choked into his beer. Phoenix didn’t even glance up from her shot while saying, “Play nice, Hangman.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Hangman's your call sign?”

“One and only,” the blonde said, holding out a hand like he expected a spotlight. “Jake Seresin. Resident heartbreaker, ego booster, and occasional lifesaver.”

You stared at his hand for a beat, then gave it a brief, polite shake. "Nice to officially meet you,"

"It really is, ain't it?" Jake grinned as he leaned his elbow on the edge of the table, clearly unbothered. “So what’s it like? Building a superweapon and then getting tossed in with the flyboys?”

You tilted your head, calm and even. “About as fun as being verbally dissected by a man who uses hair gel like it’s armor.”

“Oof, rough,” a voice said to your left.

You turned as another pilot stepped forward, who had a slight grin that softened the otherwise sharp edge of him. He held out a hand. “Reuben Fitch, Payback. Nice to meet you.”

You shook it. “Likewise.”

“Mickey Garcia, call sign Fanboy, ” said the one beside him, shorter, with a buzzed head, already half-laughing as he raised his beer in a little salute. “We’re not usually this charming, by the way.”

“That’s not true,” Payback said. “I’m always this charming.”

Before you could respond, another voice chimed in, softer. “And I’m Bob.”

You turned to the speaker, glasses, clean posture, a deceptively polite face that probably hid a mind like a scalpel.

"Nice to meet you," You smiled at him, still holding your beer but relaxing, just a little.

This wasn’t a debrief, It wasn’t the sim room, just a bunch of pilots talking shit and maybe, maybe letting you sit at their table, at least for tonight.

Rooster leaned in slightly, shoulder just brushing yours. “They aren't so bad.”

“But come on, Doc,” Jake said, still lounging against the table like gravity worked differently on him. He lifted his bottle in your direction. “Even you have to admit, there’s something kind of electric about all this. High-stakes, high-speed, secrets and skyfire. Gets the heart racing, doesn’t it?”

You took a sip of your beer, breaking eye contact. “Heartburn, more like.”

Mickey laughed behind his drink.

Jake just grinned, unbothered. “No shame in a little adrenaline. Means you’re alive.”

“Yeah,” you said dryly. “That, or dangerously overstimulated.”

Rooster was still grinning when he leaned in slightly, voice low and warm, just for you. “You’re doing great, by the way. In the sim.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift from teasing to genuine. “Thanks,”

And then, mercifully—because your brain was dangerously close to short-circuiting—Phoenix lined up her shot and sank the ball with a clean, effortless clack.

She straightened, gave the group a look, and said flatly, “Can we play now, or are you all done peacocking?”

Fanboy raised his hands in mock surrender. “Wasn’t me this time.”

Jake, of course, gestured grandly toward the table. “By all means and for the record, I wasn’t peacocking, I was flirting, there’s a difference.”

"You? Successfully flirting with someone besides your precious AC?" Rubeus snorted. "Now that I’d pay to see."

Bradley grinned. “Still carrying a torch for her since the academy, Hangman?”

Jake shot him a look, sharper, more serious than usual. “Can it.”

“And you were peacocking,” Bob added.

“I was multi-tasking,”

Phoenix rolled her eyes and turned to you. “You in?”

You hesitated for half a second, then took the cue. “Just for the record, I haven’t played in years.”

Phoenix’s smirk widened slightly. “Perfect. You’ll fit right in.”

Rooster leaned in again, voice just loud enough for you to hear. “We’ll go easy on you.”

You glanced at him over your shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “That sounds like a challenge.”

He just smiled, lazy and lopsided. “Good.”

So, you weren’t the best.

You scratched and missed some easy ones. Once, you managed to completely launch the cue ball off the table and nearly take out Hangman’s drink, but you held your own and by the time the first game was over, you were laughing.

Not politely or nervously but actually laughing.

The night stretched on better than you’d expected, better than you’d dared hope, by the fourth round of beers, you were… joyful.

Which, for you, usually meant a bit flushed, very talkative, and unreasonably confident about things like your pool strategy and your very unpopular stance on pineapple on pizza. Someone made the mistake of letting you pick music on the jukebox, and now, Take My Breath Away is playing in the background.

Mickey had just finished explaining—very dramatically—how Reuben once got pantsed mid-flight suit and refused to acknowledge it ever happened. Bob, with whom you had been sharing fries for half of the night, had chimed in with the exact timestamp. Jake kept interrupting with side commentary that no one asked for. Phoenix, who nursed her drinks and pretended she wasn’t smiling.

And Bradley never strayed too far.

Sometimes sitting on the edge of the table, sometimes leaning with one elbow on the bar. Always watching, but not in a way that felt heavy or possessive, but like he was making sure you didn’t drift too far from shore.

At one point, he even slid a glass of water into your hand without saying a word, just gave you a small smile, a raised brow, and took it anyway.

The pilots—the ones who’d rolled their eyes when you dropped your tablet, who’d heard your entire mission explained in hesitant, caffeine-fueled rambles—were now just… people. Loud, messy, sharp-witted people who might be the only thing standing between you and death next week.

Could’ve been the beer, or the fries, or the mood around you, but somehow, that fact wasn’t setting off alarm bells the way it probably should.

You were still the outlier, sure, still the civilian with the classified code and the anti-flight instincts, but tonight, with your fifth beer half-finished, surrounded by chaos and music and the first real belly laugh you’d had in months.

You’d come to genuinely like them all—even Jake... but that was when you were half-drunk, laughing, and firmly planted on solid, lovely, unmoving ground.

Not like now.

Because Monday rolled up like a freight train, and with it came Cyclone’s voice echoing through the hangar with all the warmth of a court summons, “You’re ready for a test flight.”

You’d tried to argue. Oh, you tried.

Tried logic, begged for another sim, even floated the possibility of “emotional unsuitability,” which earned you a long, dead-eyed stare and a crisp, “You’ll be fine.”

So now, here you are.

in the gear room, shakily wriggling your way into a flight suit that feels more like medieval armor than government-issue. It's too heavy, too stiff, and somehow manages to make you feel both protected and wildly exposed at the same time.

Your hands fumble with the last few clasps, fingers trembling, heart somewhere up in your throat, and when you come out, finally wrestle the zipper into submission and stand upright—barely—Bradley's already there.

Leaning casually against the doorframe, sleeves tied around his waist, holding a helmet in one hand like it’s the easiest thing in the world. His gaze flicks down to your suit, then back up to meet your eyes.

“Turn,” he says gently.

You do.

He steps forward and fastens a strap you didn’t even know you’d missed—steady, practiced, close enough to smell the faint trace of cologne and jet fuel on him.

“I tried,” he murmurs, his voice low and honest. “Tried to talk Cyclone into letting me take you up there today.”

You turn back to face him, eyes wide. “And?”

He gives a small shrug. “Didn’t work. He wants you with Hangman."

Your stomach sinks, your knees aren’t far behind.

Of course, it’s Hangman. Of all the people. Jake Seresin, the smug, cocky pilot, the Navy's most charming landmine, was the one who would take you on your first fly.

You inhale sharply through your nose. The flight suit suddenly feels even heavier, like it's made of wet concrete.

“Okay. Cool. Coolcoolcool. That’s fine. That’s actually great,” you say, nodding like you’re trying to gaslight your own nervous system into cooperating.

“I know how it sounds,” Bradley says, voice even but gentle. “Don’t tell him I said it, but Jake’s good in the air, okay? He might be an ass, but he’s not a psychopath.”

“That’s not exactly a reassuring distinction.”

“I mean it. He talks big, sure, but he knows what he’s doing. And more importantly, he knows he’s supposed to bring you back in one piece.”

You swallow hard, fingers tightening slightly around your helmet. “I hate that that even has to be said out loud.”

“Welcome to Naval aviation,” Bradley mutters, deadpan.

You shoot him a flat look, and he softens again. “Hey. Look at me.”

Bradley dips his head just a little, voice dropping even lower. “You’ll be strapped in before you even realize you’ve left the ground and before you know it, you’ll be back on it.”

You glance down at the helmet still in your hands, fingers gripping the edge tight enough to leave marks.

Your voice comes out smaller than you mean for it to. “What if I freak out?”

“Then you freak out,” he says, simple, steady. “And then you breathe, and you come back, and you keep going. That’s it.”

You swallow hard, blinking up at him a he lifts a hand—pauses, like he’s asking permission—then sets it lightly on your shoulder and part of your neck.

“You’re gonna be okay. Just trust the process, and remember what you've learned and when you land? I’m taking you for coffee.”

You try to smirk, but it wobbles. “Coffee.”

“Or something stronger.” His mouth quirks. “Dealer’s choice.”

You nod once, trying to breathe past the knot in your throat. His hand lingers just a second longer, grounding, then falls away.

"Okay," you say, more to yourself than anyone else. "Let’s get this over with."

Before you can overthink it, Rooster takes the helmet gently from your hands and settles it over your head with a quiet, practiced motion. The visor lowers slightly as he steps back and taps the side.

“Godspeed.”

You don’t say anything, simply give him a look, because if you open your mouth now, you might lose your nerve.

And then you walk—wobble? march? shuffle?—toward the hangar, where Jake Seresin is waiting beside the jet with aviators and zero shame.

“Look at you,” he called, grinning like the sun. “All dressed up like a real pilot.”

You stop in front of him and cross your arms—partly to seem composed, mostly to hide the way your fingers are trembling. “You’re aware you’re the last person I want to see right now, right?”

Jake just grins, entirely unbothered as he passes you a replica of the tablet you'll be using the day of. “Give it ten minutes in the air. You’ll be singing a different tune.”

You take it while shooting him a look. “Highly doubtful.”

Jake just grinned wider, entirely undeterred. “That’s the spirit.”

Then he nodded toward the cockpit and stepped aside, one hand sweeping toward the ladder like he was inviting you to your doom with all the charm of a game show host. “Hop in.”

You gave the jet a long, slow look, then him. “Just remember—I’m the one with access to your digital footprint.”

“Don't worry, I promise we'll have fun." Jake winked.

You gave him one last flat stare, then looked up at the cockpit like it might lurch away if you got too close. The jet gleamed under the morning light, all sleek lines and barely concealed threat. Your stomach did a full somersault.

“You and I have astronomically different ideas of fun,” you muttered, hands tight on the ladder as you shakily began to climb.

Jake chuckled behind you, the sound entirely too amused for your liking. “That’s what makes this partnership so special.”

You didn’t dignify that with a response, mostly because your brain was too busy screaming IT'S OKAY, YOU'RE FINE on a loop while you hauled yourself into the back seat.

The cockpit was tighter than you expected—too many buttons, too little legroom, and absolutely no exit once that canopy closed. You slid in, stiff and awkward in the flight suit, your fingers fumbling with the harness as your nerves caught up to your hands.

“You good with the harness, or do you need a hand?” Jake asked, pausing at the top of the ladder with just enough smirk in his tone to be irritating.

“I have it,” you snapped, then immediately got the buckle caught in your sleeve.

“Sure you do.” He stepped closer, leaned in, and without waiting for actual permission, reached in to unhook, untwisting the strap and buckling it across your chest with the ease of someone who’s done this a thousand times. "You’re a whole government-certified genius, yet seatbelts are tricky.”

You clenched your jaw. “I was getting to it.”

“I believe you,” he said, clearly not believing you at all.

“Helmet?” he said, but he already was adjusting the chin strap and checking the comms line with irritating precision.

“There,” he said once everything was settled, slapping your helmet twice, making you wince. “Now you look like a real pilot.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled, the word slipping out before you could reel it back in.

Jake didn’t gloat, which was somehow worse; he just gave a crooked smile, like he was letting you have that one. “Anytime, Doc.”

Then he turned and hauled himself into the front seat with that same effortless grace, flipping switches and tapping controls like it was muscle memory.

You settled back, the harness tight across your chest, helmet a little heavier than expected, and every inch of you vibrating with nerves, tensing as the canopy sealed shut with a pressurized hiss, and suddenly everything felt very real.

The cockpit was smaller than it looked from the outside, like the world had narrowed to buttons, switches, and the sound of your own breathing echoing in your ears.

Jake’s voice crackled to life through the comms. “Comms check—how we doing back there, Doc?”

You cleared your throat. “Mildly regretting every life decision that led me here.”

“That’s a ‘loud and clear’ in pilot-speak,” he replied, flipping another switch. “Alright. Let’s light her up.”

The engines growled beneath you, the whole jet vibrating with coiled power. You felt it in your chest, your spine, the soles of your feet.

Jake’s voice crackled through your headset, smooth and practiced. “Tower, this is Hangman requesting clearance for takeoff. Got one backseat VIP and a perfectly good morning to ruin.”

"Oh, god!" Your hand was tight on the seatbelt.

A female voice crackled back, calm, smooth and efficient. “Hangman, you are cleared for runway three-five. Winds at five knots. Try not to scare her off, will you?”

“No promises, darling,” Jake said, grinning into his mic.

A faint "Ugh!" came through the comms.

You resisted the very strong urge to scream I can hear you, but you didn’t trust your voice not to crack.

Instead, you gripped the sides of your seat, tried to remember the breathing exercises Phoenix drilled into you, and muttered to yourself, “Okay. Just… breath.”

“Just think of it like a roller coaster,” Hangman said, voice as easy as ever. “A really fast, really expensive roller coaster. With missiles.”

"... I've never been on a roller coaster."

Jake let out a sharp laugh over the comms. “Well, hell. Firsts all around, then.”

You squeezed your eyes shut. “That’s not comforting.”

“Didn’t say it was,” he replied, clearly grinning. “But hey—at least I’m the one driving.”

The jet lurched forward, taxiing with more confidence than you currently had in your entire body. You could hear the subtle clicks and whirs as Jake ran through the final pre-checks, his voice calm as he rattled off confirmations to the tower.

Jake’s voice filtered through again, smooth as ever. “Okay, tower’s good to go. You’re strapped in, I’m charming as hell, the sun’s out—it’s a perfect day for a little ride.”

“God, I hate your voice,” you muttered.

He laughed. “You’ll miss it when I go radio silent during the loop.”

Your heart stopped. “What loop—?!”

Your question got swallowed by the roar of the engines as the jet picked up speed, the world outside streaking past in a blur of tarmac and heat shimmer.

The nose tilted skyward and the force slammed into you like a truck—your back flattened against the seat, the sky rushing toward you in a dizzying, g-force-laced blur. Your stomach dropped somewhere around your ankles as the ground vanished.

Your breath caught somewhere in your chest, maybe your soul, too and through it all, Jake’s voice came steady and maddeningly cheerful in your headset.

“Welcome to the sky, Doc.”

You didn’t open your eyes until the shaking slowed.

Even then, it was just a squint, enough to see sky and clouds and nothing solid whatsoever beneath you. You swallowed hard, barely able to focus as Jake leveled them out.

“There we go,” he said, like they hadn’t just ripped into the sky at bone-rattling speed. “Smooth as butter.”

Your mouth felt like sandpaper, your pulse thundering in your ears, and your hands were locked in fists so tight your knuckles ached—nails digging into the inside of your gloves like you were trying to anchor yourself to the Earth that was now very far below.

Jake’s voice came through again, “Still with me, Doc?”

“Barely,” you managed, voice rough.

“That’s fine,” he said easily. “You only need like… one lung for this.”

You didn’t dignify that with a response; your heart was still trying to beat its way out of your ribs.

“Hang in there, Doc,” Jake went on, maddeningly upbeat. “We’re running the basic sim—mock target tracking, maneuver drills. Nothing fancy. Just stay awake, listen for the tone, press the button on your panel, and try not to scream loud enough to spike the comms.”

You knew this—you’d done it in the sim more times than you could count. It just felt different now, with the sky actually moving around you and gravity trying to shake your teeth loose.

You unclipped the tablet with shaky hands but managed to power it on, fingers already flying through the familiar security layers. The interface booted up quickly, screen flashing through the loading prompts of your prototype system.

“I know the drill,” you muttered, not looking up.

“Good,” Jake said. “Because this time, it’s not a chair bolted to a fake cockpit. It's the real sky.”

You ignored him and focused on the startup sequence. The display for ETHERA glowed to life on your screen, diagnostic overlays already sweeping across the mock flight path.

“Target simulation’s loading in ten,” Jake said, tone shifting just slightly into something more focused. “Once I give the signal, you’ve got a few seconds to let her breach their Blackstar—just like in the sim. She’ll run her ghosts or whatever, and we’ll peel out before they know what hit ’em.”

You drew in one last breath and steadied your grip on the tablet, eyes locked on the countdown.

“Copy,” you muttered, voice clipped and controlled.

There was a beat of silence, then Jake’s voice cut in, smug as ever. “Look at you—almost sounded like a real aviator.”

“Don’t push it, Hangman.”

The timer hit zero.

“Go,” he called.

You tapped the screen without hesitation.

ETHERA spun to life like a second set of instincts. Streams of code rippled across your display as the system initiated its mock infiltration. Within seconds, the simulated Blackstar interface cracked open—mock enemy systems lit up on your tablet: communications, targeting schematics, internal logs. All exposed, all accessible.

“She’s in,” you said tightly, eyes locked on the data flowing in.

Jake let out a low whistle. “Hot damn.”

You didn’t wait for a reaction; your fingers were already flying across the screen, scanning the mock architecture as ETHERA slipped deeper into the system, laying digital breadcrumbs, mapping out pathways, preparing to ghost your signal off their radar entirely.

You were just about to execute the override when the jet banked hard.

Your whole body jolted, the Gs slamming you sideways into the harness as the tablet nearly slipped from your hands.

“Hangman!” you shouted, gripping the seat with both hands now. The tablet tumbled against your chest, still tethered but dangling.

“Oop—looks like we’ve been made!” Jake chirped, way too cheerful for someone yanking you through a tight evasive maneuver. “Time for some fun!”

The jet pitched into a sharp barrel roll, sky and sea flipping over each other like a blender set to maximum chaos.

You couldn’t breathe—literally couldn’t. Your lungs locked up, every muscle in your body tensed like they were bracing for death. The harness bit into your shoulders as the Gs slammed down, and you were 90% sure your soul tried to leave your body mid-roll.

Jake whooped over the comms like it was a rollercoaster. “Now that’s the good stuff! Let’s get low!”

The jet dove, slicing just above the simulated terrain, a blur of digital mountain ridges whipping past. Then up again, then a snap turn left, followed by a hard roll right that sent your tablet sliding sideways before you caught it with a wild swipe.

“Hangman—!” you managed, voice ragged and strained.

“Don’t worry, Doc, this one’s just a corkscrew,” Jake said casually, as the jet spiraled sharply downward before leveling out in a gut-lurching drop. “Keeps the ghosts scrambling.”

You wheezed like a deflating balloon. “What the hell does that even mean—!”

“Means your fake enemies are probably panicking. Which is great for us!”

Another hard bank to the left, then a roll that tipped you nearly upside down. Gravity vanished, reappeared, and tried to fold you in half, and thought all this, your ETHERA was still running.

Mock Blackstar systems glowed steadily across your tablet, icons shifting with your trajectory, responsive and alive. Despite the chaos outside, the code held.

The system was moving with you as it was programmed to do, yet, you could not deploy anything else, not because it couldn't, but because you were frozen in your seat.

“Breathe,” Jake said through the comms, and though it was still annoyingly smug, there was a thread of real focus beneath it. “Seriously, in through the nose, out through the mouth or, you know, scream. Either works.”

You clutched the tablet to your chest like it might somehow anchor you back to solid ground. “I hate you. How’s that?”

Jake laughed, full and unbothered. “Music to my ears.”

“Don’t talk to me.”

He was definitely grinning—you could hear it—right before he pulled another sharp dip that knocked the air from your lungs. Your fingers clawed at the harness, heart thudding so loudly it was practically echoing inside your helmet.

“That's enough, Hangman. Bring her home,” Cyclone’s voice cut through the comms, clipped and final.

“Copy that,” Jake said, voice sobering just a bit. The jet leveled out in one smooth motion, like all the chaos had been flipped off with a switch.

“You did good, Doc,” he said after a beat. Still calm and very much still irritating, but not unkind.

However, you didn’t answer, you didn’t even move.

As Hangman guided the jet back toward the base, smooth and casual like he hadn’t just flung you through the sky at Mach terror, you stayed frozen, shoulders locked, hands clenched, every muscle still braced for impact that didn’t come.

The landing jolted through the airframe, not rough, but enough to make you wince like it had hit bone. You exhaled slowly, only then realizing how long you’d been holding your breath. The harness dug into your chest, the helmet felt too tight, and your heart was still somewhere up in the stratosphere.

Jake popped the canopy with a hiss of pressure and sunlight.

You climbed down the ladder on legs that felt more decorative than functional—your boots hit the tarmac with a little more force than necessary, just to remind yourself you were back on solid ground. The helmet was off, your tablet tucked under one arm, and you were vaguely aware that your hands were still shaking.

Jake hopped down behind you, helmet tucked under his arm like he hadn’t just tried to give you a heart attack at 30,000 feet.

“See? Piece of cake,” Jake said, voice smug, but laced with something that sounded almost like genuine approval.

“Yeap,” you managed, though your voice came out faint, barely there.

The ground didn’t feel quite solid anymore, your knees buckled slightly, and the edges of your vision blurred like smudged ink, and just as you tried to blink it away, the world tilted.

You swayed once, then everything went quiet and black.

A/N:

HEYYYY!!!!! I just wanted to say thank you all for reading, like seriously, I had no idea this story would get big!! and I'm so glad people are enjoying it so much and supporting it too. <3<3<3<3<3<3

Another thing, the AC that is mentioned in this story, Hangman's beloved? yeah, that's you in a different font because I am lowkey thinking of making a hangman fic too.

Plot: He fell first and harder and you don't like him at alllll.

Anywaysss, once again I want to thank you all so so much for the support and love for this fic (and the patience)<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

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[neuro-stasis]

On to Project Wingman!

I have finished Ace Combat Zero, thus concluding my PS2 Ace Combat trilogy marathon

I am not okay.

[omen-of-ice]

DEMO || FAQ || PINTEREST

The North has been all that you’ve known your whole life— residing within its icy landscape as part of House Eirlys; Wardens of the North. You’ve never thought you’d one day leave to head south to Vela’thian— the kingdom of the elvhen— much less that you’d head there due to your betrothal with the king himself.

What will await you once you arrive? Is everything as it seems? Or is there something more brewing beneath the surface of the seemingly pristine nation?

Will you find your way back home? Or will you find something, or someone, worth staying for?

Let’s see how your story unfolds…

❄️ Play as the youngest heir to House Eirlys that’s been arranged to be married to the Elven King. Explore the wondrous world of Arlatha and the great elven nation of Vela’thian and its capital Ilyransari! You’ll meet a variety of characters, uncover plots (varying levels of angst), and potentially find love along the way! This game is rated 18+ for depictions of explicit language, alcohol consumption, potential sexual content, violence/blood, and death.

❄️ Customizable MC: name, gender, appearance, sexuality, hobbies, and some skills. (You can choose to not be attracted to men and tell Daeron, the king, this, don’t worry.)

❄️ Bond with your Lycana— a winged wolf that’ll stay with you until death. Customizable: name, gender, and fur color.

❄️ Explore Ilyransari and learn more about the fantastical world of Arlatha!

❄️ Meet a variety of characters— from reclusive dwarves to hotheaded goblins— that’ll bring unique experiences throughout your story.

❄️ Learn more about your own shrouded past and how you came to be where you are now. Will the truth finally set you free?

❄️ Keep in contact with your older brother— Kaladin. He’ll want to know how you’re doing.

❄️ Romance one of characters from your potential betrothed himself— the Elven King— to an orc commander that takes everything a bit too literally or a creature from the depths of the Vesperion Sea. Or maybe someone else will catch your eye.

❄️ Remember, above all else, to have fun!

Daeron [M] — The King — High Elf

The Elven King himself, a man known far and wide for his prowess in battle and resilience in the face of almost insurmountable odds. You’re not sure why he chose you to be his betrothed— after all he must have received hundreds of requests over the years— but you were instructed to not look a gift horse in the mouth; not when an ally like him would help your family and people immeasurably. With a hardened exterior, from years of battle and sacrifice, Daeron isn’t someone that’s easily accessible in the emotional sense, but you can’t help but notice how his eyes begin to soften every time you enter the room. Will something real begin to grow between you?

Daeron stands at around 6’3” (190.5 cm) with a warm beige complexion. Raven black hair falls across his forehead in gentle curls, a delicately crafted crown always situated atop them. His golden eyes, that seem to rival the sun in brilliance, are filled with a cunning intelligence; he has a toned physique, still holding a lithe quality that all elvhen seem to possess.

Larak [M] — The Commander — Orc

Seeing an Orc within Vela’thian is like seeing a starless night; it happens, but it doesn’t make it any less of an odd occurrence. Not after centuries of war between the Elven Nation and the Infernal Plains. Larak, however, seems to have taken his position in stride, ignoring all the looks he receives without a backward glance. After all, what is an orc to do without his clan? Especially one that was well on his way to becoming a chieftain of his own? Will you give him a reason to stay?

Larak stands at around 7’2” (218.44 cm) with a green complexion. Dark auburn locks are shaved on either side of his head, while the rest is kept in a long ponytail that falls down his back. He’s a hulking mass of muscle and brute strength— his most prominent feature, barring his sharp canines, being the twin scars running down his chest that pairs well with the one through his left eyebrow.

Calypso [F] — The Wanderer — Siren

The Vesperion Sea is an anomaly to most within Arlatha; for a creature from its watery depths to appear means one of two things. 1.) Something bad is about to happen. or 2.) It’s a pilgrimage of sorts that a few depth-striders take up every other decade. Meeting Calypso it’s easy to tell which one she is; her general amazement at the world around her being something that’d warm even the most hardened of hearts. With a desire to learn, and an aptitude to do so, she tries to take everything in stride, observing Vela’thian, and it’s inhabitants, with an ardent fervor that would be quite off putting in any other circumstance. Will you uncover things together?

Calypso stands at around 5’1” (154.94 cm) with a dark brown complexion— iridescent blue scales intercepting the expanse of it across her forearms, collarbone, and sparsely across her legs. The sea green of her gaze complements the deep royal blue of her hair beautifully— the voluminous curls falling down to just beneath her shoulders. She has an hourglass figure.

Shanaera [F] — The Spymaster — Dark Fae

The Royal Spymaster within Vela’thian, Shanaera is the longtime friend, and closest advisor, to Daeron. There isn’t much information about the early life of Shanaera— something she’s gone to great lengths to keep that way— and she’s rarely seen enough by the general populace to get a concrete opinion on. Keeping to the shadows, only appearing in court once in a blue moon, and with walls of ice surrounding her, it’s unsurprising why she has the reputation she does. A woman that’s just as deadly with her words as she is with any blade or poison— getting on her bad side isn’t a smart idea… But is it even possible to get on her good one?

Shanaera stands at around 5’11” (180.34 cm) with a sun-kissed complexion. Locks reminiscent of woven sunlight falls down to her hips in a cascade of gentle waves and soft curls— the strands bringing out the luminescent quality of her amethyst colored gaze. Grand wings of iridescent black are situated on her back, giving her elegantly slender body a broader appearance.

Fáelán [M/F] — The Best Friend — Wildling

You met Fáelán when you were ten years old during a winter ride with your family— something you had done dozens of times before— coming across their slight form underneath a snow drift, after your horse almost trampled them, wasn’t something you had been anticipating, but they haven’t left your side ever since. Not even when they had been offered an escort back to the village deep within The Thaeg; an ancient forest that covers over half of The North. You were best friends from that day onward— one never seen without the other. After all of that, should you truly be all that surprised when your self-appointed guard decides to come along to Vela’thian?

Fáelán stands at around 5’8” (172.72 cm) with a light gray complexion. Strands of hair, the color of which reminds you of freshly fallen snow, fall down to just beneath their shoulders in messy waves— usually kept in a intricate braid— pairs well with the deep crimson of their gaze. Their toned body is a far-cry from the scrawny individual they had been when you first met them— an intricate tattoo making a home on their right arm.

Valerian [M/F] — The Exiled Heir — Draconian

Tales of the land across the Vesperion Sea tell of the grand opulence of Edras— home of the draconian; dragon-kin. Valerian isn’t exactly who you’re expecting when imagining the royal family of Edras, but at the same time they seem to fit right in. With a smile that never reaches their eyes fully, a voice that never has to raise to be heard, and a presence that could command a legion, they bring a slew of questions and very little answers. Why were they cast out? Why are they in Vela’thian? And why do they seem to always find themself in your company? Will you be able to uncover any of these answers?

Valerian stands at around 6’6” (198.12 cm) with a fair complexion. Crystalline blue eyes seemingly burn with a fiery intensity— despite their icy coldness— which brings out the argent quality of their silver locks; M!Valerian keeping them down to his shoulders and F!Valerian keeping hers to her mid-back.