#interactive prototype tools

[olivergisttv]

Creating Interactive Prototypes Without Coding

Introduction Let’s be real—coding isn’t for everyone. But that doesn’t mean you can’t bring your ideas to life. Whether you’re a designer, entrepreneur, marketer, or just someone with a bright idea, creating interactive prototypes without writing a single line of code is not only possible, it’s also incredibly easy in 2025. No more waiting around for a developer to “find time.” No more static…

[mitu444]

Do you need a website?

just CLICK HERE and build your own website by your choice.

https://go.fiverr.com/visit/?bta=1026601&brand=fiverrmarketplace&landingPage=https%253A%252F%252Fwww.fiverr.com%252Fs%252FKe716Q4

[mephisto-reporting]

The Engineer's Gravity - Yandere! Caleb

Plot: You're a biomechanical engineer in Caleb's fleet, incharge of repairs of prosthetic parts. What happens when you become the subject of the Colonel's obsession? Based on this request. Pairing: Non MC Mechanic! Reader x Yandere! Caleb Note: This story is with slightly darker themes. I do not want people to come at me saying Caleb isn't like this. Yes, I know. This is a Yandere! version of Caleb. Please keep that in mind. If you want to be a part of my taglist, please let me know in the comments, DMs or inbox. Content warning: Yandere male, implied deaths, mutilation, mentions of blood, possessiveness, gaslighting, voilence

CALEB'S POV

The faint hum of the Farspace fleet’s engines was a constant background noise, a rhythm that Caleb had grown accustomed to. It filled the silence as he walked down the dimly lit corridor toward the engineering bay, his gloved left hand flexing instinctively while his right hand remained eerily still. It wasn’t the arm itself that unnerved him anymore. No, he’d gotten used to the weight, the cool touch of the synthetic skin against his chest when he rested his hand there. What grated on him was the maintenance—the vulnerability of needing someone else to keep it functional.

The first time he’d come to the mechanic for maintenance, he had been indifferent, as he was to most things in his life. The arm was a tool, no more. Just another part of the machine that was Caleb, the Colonel. She was just another cog in the vast machine of the fleet, a means to an end. He barely remembered their first meeting beyond her clinical efficiency and soft voice, far removed from the barked commands of his officers or the detached drone of his superiors. She’d introduced herself simply, a name he didn’t bother committing to memory at the time, and had begun her work without wasting a second.

He’d sat in silence, his arm stretched out on the diagnostic table, his gaze fixed on the wall as she meticulously checked the connections and replaced worn components. She’d asked him questions—about the arm’s performance, any discomfort he’d noticed—but he’d only answered in monosyllables. He wasn’t trying to be rude; he just didn’t see the point.

She had been… different.

No. She spoke with compassion, with a voice that held an undercurrent of something human. When she’d first touched his arm to inspect it, there was no clinical detachment in her touch—no cold professionalism. Instead, there was a softness, a care.

But she kept showing up, week after week, her presence a constant thread in his routine. She didn’t just maintain his arm; she paid attention. She noticed when he was tense and adjusted her tone accordingly. When she worked, she hummed under her breath—a tune he couldn’t place but found oddly soothing. And unlike the professor who saw him as little more than a prototype for their next experiment, she treated him like a person.

Caleb first noticed it when she spoke to the other fleet members. The soldiers and officers with Toring chips embedded in their bodies, their minds augmented for efficiency but stripped of their individuality, were often treated as tools. Most of the crew barely acknowledged them, but she… she smiled at them. Asked about their day. Made sure they were comfortable during her examinations and modifications.

It wasn’t long before Caleb began to see her differently.

Their interactions changed subtly over time. He found himself lingering in the engineering bay longer than necessary, watching her work under the sharp white lights. She was focused, hands deft as they manipulated wires and micro-tools, her brow furrowed in concentration.

“You’re due for recalibration next week, Colonel.” she said during one session, not looking up from the neural interface she was fine-tuning.

“I’ll be here,” he replied. Then, after a pause, “You’re good at this.”

She glanced at him, surprised. “I’ve had a lot of practice.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “Not just the work. The way you… treat people. You’re good at that, too.”

Her lips parted slightly, and for a moment, he thought she might dismiss the comment. But instead, she smiled—a soft, genuine thing that made something unfamiliar stir in his chest. “Everyone deserves to be treated like they matter.” she said simply, turning back to his arm.

He didn’t respond, but those words stayed with him long after he left the bay. Caleb watched her closely, taking note of every smile, every laugh, every time she showed kindness to someone else. It made something dark curl in his chest.

The first time Caleb intervened on her behalf, it was almost instinctual.

He was passing through the mess hall when he heard the sharp edge of Lieutenant Varro’s voice. “You know, for all your compassion, you take forever with repairs. Maybe stop coddling the freaks and do your job faster.”

Caleb froze, his blood turning cold. He rounded the corner to see Varro towering over her, his expression smug. She was holding a tray of food, her shoulders tense but her expression calm as she replied, “I do my job thoroughly, Lieutenant. If you’re unhappy with my work, you can file a complaint.”

Caleb’s steps faltered, his jaw tightening. A cold, simmering rage filled him as he turned to look at the man. He wanted to snap his neck right then and there, but he couldn’t let her see this side of him. Not yet.

So he smiled instead. A cold, calculating smile that sent a chill down Varro’s spine.

“Lieutenant,” Caleb said, his tone deceptively calm. “A word.”

Later that night, Varro didn’t return to his quarters. Whispers spread through the fleet about an "incident" during a routine maintenance check. Caleb made sure it looked like an accident—a malfunction in Varro's own bionic enhancements. No one questioned it, least of all her.

She remained blissfully unaware of the lengths Caleb went to for her.

As the days turned into weeks, Caleb’s obsession deepened. He found himself lingering in her workshop longer than necessary, watching her every move. She would smile at him, her eyes warm and kind, and Caleb would feel something he hadn’t felt since he left home for the DAA. A strange, aching need to keep her close.

“You know,” she said one day, her voice light, “you don’t always have to come here for repairs. You can just... visit, if you want.”

Caleb froze, his gaze locking onto hers. Did she know? Had she figured out how much he craved her presence? But her smile was so genuine, so innocent, that he realized she didn’t suspect a thing.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, his voice steady.

He told her about his family one evening, when the workshop was quiet and the rest of the fleet was asleep. He spoke of the girl he had grown up with, her fiery spirit, and the way she had  carved a place for herself in Linkon.

“She is strong…” Caleb said, his voice low. “Stronger than anyone I’ve ever known.”

She listened intently, her expression soft. “You must miss her.” she said gently.

Caleb hesitated. Did he? The memory of that girl felt distant, overshadowed by the woman sitting in front of him.

“I don’t think about her much anymore.” he admitted. “There are... other things on my mind.”

He didn’t elaborate, and she didn’t press.

But Caleb couldn’t stop thinking about her. He thought about the way her hands moved over his arm, the way her laughter echoed in the workshop, the way she seemed to light up the cold, sterile corridors of the fleet.

And when he saw other officers talking to her, laughing with her, something in him snapped. He didn’t like the way they looked at her. He didn’t like the idea of anyone else getting close to her.

Caleb began to manipulate things behind the scenes, ensuring that no one spent too much time with her. He assigned officers to tasks that kept them far away from her workshop. He spread subtle rumors, casting doubt on the intentions of anyone who showed too much interest in her.

She never noticed. She never questioned why the workshop seemed quieter, why fewer people came to her for help.

And Caleb made sure it stayed that way. In the privacy of his quarters, Caleb would sit in the dim light, his bionic hand flexing involuntarily as he thought about her. She was his. She didn’t know it yet, but she belonged to him.

And he would do whatever it took to keep her safe. To keep her close.

Even if it meant destroying anyone who stood in his way.

YOUR POV

Lately, you’d noticed something strange.

The crew didn’t treat you the way they used to. At first, it was subtle—an officer averting his gaze when you greeted him in the corridor, a technician hurriedly ending a conversation when you approached. Then it became more blatant. People gave you a wide berth in the cafeteria, whispers died the moment you entered a room, and the occasional sidelong glances you caught were laced with something unspoken.

Fear.

It didn’t make sense. You’d always prided yourself on being approachable, on treating everyone with the respect they deserved. Sure, your work was demanding, and your position as the fleet’s biomechanical engineer meant you often had to be firm when it came to protocols, but you weren’t cruel. Far from it. You treated the crew like people, not machines.

But now? It was as though you carried some invisible aura that screamed danger.

And then there were the... incidents.

The first time, you brushed it off as coincidence. Lieutenant Gregor had been reassigned to another fleet without warning, just days after he’d mocked you during a team briefing. You’d chalked it up to bad luck or his own poor behavior catching up to him.

But then it happened again.

And again.

Officers and fleet members who dismissed your concerns, who snapped at you during high-stress missions, who made snide comments about your methods—they all disappeared. Some were reassigned to far-off posts, others were suddenly discharged for disciplinary reasons, and a few even suffered freak accidents that left them unfit for duty.

The pattern was impossible to ignore.

The only constant in all of this was the Colonel.

Or just Caleb, as he’d asked you to call him when it was just the two of you.

“Colonel” felt too formal, too distant, he’d said one evening as you adjusted the fine motor controls on his bionic hand. He’d leaned back in the chair, watching you with an intensity that made you feel both self-conscious and oddly comforted.

“Just Caleb,” he’d said, his voice softer than usual. “When we’re alone.”

You hadn’t thought much of it at the time. Over the past few months, he’d become a steady presence in your life, someone you found yourself looking forward to seeing.

And lately, he seemed to be around you more than ever.

It wasn’t just during maintenance sessions anymore. He’d stop by your workshop for no apparent reason, lingering by your workbench as you tinkered with your tools. He’d accompany you on supply runs, his tall frame a protective shadow at your side. When the fleet docked at Skyhaven for shore leave, he invited you to join him for coffee or walks through the market district. He’d cook for you and bring you meals to your residence in Skyhaven, unprompted.

It felt... nice.

You couldn’t deny that you enjoyed his company. Caleb had a dry sense of humor that never failed to catch you off guard, and there was a steadiness to him that you found grounding. Still, there was something about him—something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

The way he always seemed to know when someone had upset you. The way his gaze lingered on you just a little too long, as if he were memorizing every detail. The way his voice dropped when he said your name, like it was a secret only he was allowed to keep.

You tried to push the thoughts aside. Caleb was your superior, your colonel. He’d never given you any reason to distrust him. And yet...

One evening, as you recalibrated the sensory feedback in his arm, you decided to bring it up.

“Have you noticed how people have been acting lately?” you asked, keeping your tone light as you adjusted a tiny screw. “It’s like they think I’m some kind of... I don’t know, threat or something.”

You glanced up at Caleb, expecting him to shrug it off with one of his usual dry remarks. Instead, his body tensed, just for a moment. If you hadn’t been watching him so closely, you might have missed it.

“What makes you say that?” he asked, his voice carefully neutral.

“It’s just a feeling.” you said, turning back to his arm. “People avoiding me, whispering when they think I can’t hear. And then there are the reassignment orders. It’s like anyone who crosses me is... gone.”

There was a long pause.

“It’s nothing.” Caleb said finally. “Tensions have been high since the last Deepspace tunnel exploration. People are on edge.”

You frowned but didn’t press the issue. Maybe he was right. The fleet had been through a lot recently, and stress had a way of making people act strangely. Still, something about his explanation didn’t sit right with you.

“Yeah,” you said, forcing a smile. “That makes sense.”

But it didn’t. Not entirely.

Still, you knew better than to poke your nose where it didn’t belong. You’d learned long ago that asking too many questions could lead to trouble, and trouble was the last thing you needed.

So you stayed in your lane, focusing on your work and pretending not to notice the way Caleb’s presence seemed to permeate every aspect of your life. You told yourself it was fine, that his increased attention was nothing to worry about. After all, you trusted Caleb. He’d always been kind to you, always treated you with respect. And if his gaze lingered a little too long, if his touch was a little too gentle when he handed you a tool, if his smile held a hint of something darker—you ignored it.

Because Caleb was the only person who hadn’t changed. The only person who still treated you like... you.

The ship was silent at night, the hum of its engines a low, constant thrum beneath your feet as you walked through the dimly lit corridors. You’d been restless, the bitter taste of Lieutenant Reese’s words still fresh in your mind. The new Lieutenant had been transferred to Caleb’s fleet three weeks ago and was already causing tensions within the hierarchy of how things ran in the fleet.

“Guess even engineers need quotas filled, huh? They really let anyone take up space on this ship these days,” he had sneered during a systems check earlier. “Bet you’ve only kept this position because someone up high likes the way you look.”

His smirk had twisted into something crueler as he leaned closer. “Face it. You’re not here because you’re good—you’re here because you’re convenient.”

The humiliation burned as much now as it had then. You clenched your fists at the memory, your footsteps echoing softly against the metal floor. You’d worked too hard, poured too much of yourself into your work, to have it dismissed so callously. And yet, his words lingered like a stain, refusing to be scrubbed away.

You were so lost in thought that you almost didn’t hear the sound.

A muffled grunt. A crash.

And then—a sickening crunch.

You froze. Every instinct screamed at you to turn back, to return to your quarters and pretend you hadn’t heard anything. But your curiosity—or perhaps some misplaced sense of duty—compelled you forward. Quietly, you padded down the corridor, following the noise until you reached a maintenance bay.

What you saw made your breath catch in your throat.

Caleb stood over Lieutenant Reese, who was slumped against the wall, blood smeared across his face. The lieutenant’s arm hung at an unnatural angle, his body trembling as he let out a pained whimper. Caleb’s hand was clamped tightly around Reese’s throat, his grip firm but not enough to choke.

Not yet.

“You thought you could get away with it?” Caleb said, his voice low and steady, each word laced with venom. “Insulting her. Undermining her. Disrespecting her.”

Reese tried to stammer out a response, but Caleb’s hand tightened, silencing him.

“You signed your life away the moment you opened your mouth.” Caleb continued, his tone almost conversational, as if he were discussing something as mundane as a supply requisition. “She’s worth more than you’ll ever be. Do you even understand that?”

Reese’s legs kicked weakly, his breaths ragged. Caleb tilted his head, his expression shifting from cold fury to mild disappointment.

“Pathetic!” he muttered, releasing the lieutenant’s throat. Reese crumpled to the ground, wheezing and coughing. Caleb watched him for a moment, then raised his foot and brought it down sharply on Reese’s hand. The sound of bones breaking echoed in the bay.

The lieutenant went limp, his body a lifeless heap. Caleb crouched beside him, his expression one of disdain. “Weak,” he said, his voice barely audible.

And then he turned his head, his gaze locking onto you.

The moment seemed to stretch, the air thick with tension. Caleb’s expression shifted from cold to shocked in the blink of an eye, but his eyes—the ones that had always been so warm towards you—now seemed empty, calculating.

He stood still for a moment, then took a step toward you, his movements slow, deliberate. His voice was a whisper, but it cut through the silence like a blade.

“Don’t be scared,” Caleb said softly, though there was an edge to his words. “I’m just protecting you. I would never let anyone hurt you, never.”

Your mind raced, your pulse quickening. You’d seen this side of Caleb before—quiet, intense, protective—but this? This was something else. He was different.

“Protected me?” you repeated, your heart pounding. “From what?”

“From him,” Caleb replied, gesturing to Reese’s motionless form. “He disrespected you. He questioned your worth. He hurt you.”

His gaze softened, and he took another step closer. “I won’t allow that. Not from him. Not from anyone.”

“This—this isn’t right,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “You can’t just—”

“I can,” Caleb interrupted, his tone firm but not unkind. “And I will. You may not see it now, but this is what’s necessary.”

You stared at him, searching for any hint of remorse, but there was none. Only conviction.

“I’ll always protect you.” he continued, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “Even when you think you don’t need it. Even when you don’t understand why.”

You took a step back, your mind racing. But even as you tried to process what you’d seen and heard, a cold realization settled over you.

He closed the distance between you, his steps soft but purposeful, until he was standing right in front of you. His face was close, too close, his breath warm against your skin. “You’ve been through so much,” he continued, his voice soothing, almost affectionate. “You don’t need to worry about the people who don’t understand you. I’ll always protect you.” He repeats. “Even when you don’t ask for it.”

You swallowed; your throat dry. You should have been afraid, terrified even. But you weren’t. A part of you was frozen, caught in the web of his words, of his gaze. He was so sure of himself, so confident, and it was hard not to believe him when he looked at you like that.

His hand reached up, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his fingers lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

“You’re mine,” Caleb whispered, his words not a command but a promise. “No one will ever take you from me. Not ever.”

You should have questioned it, should have asked him what he meant, why he was doing this. But you didn’t. Because in that moment, you realized you couldn’t escape.

Not really.

You knew who Caleb was. You knew what he was capable of. And you knew that the resources of the Farspace Fleet, the professor, and Caleb’s power meant there was no running, no hiding from him. You’d seen what happened to those who crossed you. And now, you didn’t doubt for a second that Caleb was behind it.

But what unnerved you most was the way he looked at you now. Not with malice, not with cruelty, but with something softer. Something almost tender.

“Stay.” he said, his voice coaxing. “I’ll keep you safe. You don’t need to worry about anything else.”

You swallowed hard, your mind screaming at you to run, to fight, to do anything but stand there. And yet... you nodded.

Because deep down, you knew he was right about one thing.

Caleb would never hurt you.

As long as you stayed.

He would never let anyone touch you. He would never let anyone harm you.

You were his, and he was yours.

At least, that’s what you told yourself as you stood there, the weight of his gaze heavy on you.

And as Caleb stepped back, his eyes softening, a reassuring smile tugging at his lips, you knew one thing for certain: you were far past the point of no return.

And maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t so bad.

AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated!

Taglist: @cordidy, @natimiles @leighsartworks216 @notisekais @raining4food @fallthelong @pomegranatepip @juliuscaesarsstabbedback @krystallevine @lemurianmaster @nenggie @loverindeepspace @sinsodom

[nep-neptune-0]

5 AM

Xiangli Yao x Reader

Summary: You always had a habit of staying overnight at Huaxu Academy, tinkering away at your latest project; Xiangli Yao had a habit of visiting you for new ideas at the crack of dawn.

Content: fluff

Word Count: 1.5k

a/n: immediately downloaded the game after seeing an edit of him, got him through the Moon-Chasing Festival event and now I'm writing fanfic for him, sorry if I didn't portray him correctly!! I'm new to the game lmao

A few quick knocks pulled you out of your flow. What was the time? You threw a quick glance at your clock, almost 5 a.m.. That marked the 3rd night you had spent in the workshop, tinkering on your new creation. You slid your safety goggles up to your hairline, trying to blink away the blur that had settled over your vision. You really should start using the ceiling lamp along with your workbench lamp, otherwise you’d risk deteriorating your vision.   

Another sequence of knocks made you scramble up from the saddle stool, reminding you why you stopped your project in the first place. You were at the other side of the room at lightning speed. Your workshop was small, only enough to fit one relatively big table in the middle with a smaller one rammed up at the corner, decked out with tools and machines from your personal collection. The academy was generous enough to lend you various equipment, one of them being a large robotic arm with different functions that was attached to the bigger table, but you didn’t dare to use it unless it was for “serious work” as you liked to call it. 

The door wailed when you pulled it open. You really should oil it like how Xiangli Yao had suggested–

“Hello.”

Oh. 

Speak of the devil. It was always around this time he clocked into work. It was also around this time he visited your workshop, never failing to bring you breakfast, knowing you were more often than not neglecting your needs in pursuit of finishing your latest project. 

Xiangli Yao had crashed into your life just as violently as your prototype had when it hit an unsuspected Spearback. You didn’t think anyone would catch you in the midst of your experiments, since you made sure to do it in the dead of night far, far away from the city. But he had, and he was kind enough to escort you back to the academy, buying you breakfast before that. He had asked you about your creations, and without really thinking you started talking about your passion for battle focused tools and gushed over previous projects like they were your children. Afterwards, you had thought it was the first and last time you would have any kind of interaction with the Principal Investigator, but before you knew it, he was outside your workshop, asking you if you were down to discuss ideas for the next modification on his prosthetic arm. 

If you had thought a bit further, you probably would have questioned why he went to you specifically, a rookie, when there were an abundance of talented engineers and mechanics alike who could bring his ideas to life much more efficiently and with better quality. But you were too wrapped up in the excitement of creating something new you had ushered him inside, grabbing the only available chair that wasn’t on its last legs for him to sit on while you grabbed your notebook, eyes gleaming. 

The added mod had been a success after shedding blood, sweat, and tears day and night. You got to witness it with your own eyes when he asked you to head out with him at the first sign of light. The sunlight had painted him golden, and suddenly you weren’t as focused on his prosthetic as much. His movements had you entranced, not even daring to breathe in case it would disturb the vision in front of you. And that damn smile he directed towards you after defeating the enemy fully stole your breath away. Xiangli Yao was an unfair man.

As thanks, he had gifted you a saddle stool made of leather for your posture (though you still hunched over the desk like a shrimp) and for the fact your previous chair was merely a wooden one that would disintegrate at any given moment. You thought that would be it, but of course he defied your expectations and showed up a few weeks later, breakfast in hand with another idea. From then on he seemed to be keen on consulting you about potential modifications, ranging from battle focused ones to the more silly ones, like his ice maker that you had the honor to partake in creating. And before you knew it, he started spending some rare days in your workshop instead of his office, typing away and doing what scholars do while you were working on all different kinds of projects.

You had to admit you had developed a soft spot for the Principal Investigator during the times you spent together. You could never pinpoint when his visits started feeling like a part of your routine, or when you started looking forward to those moments. And somewhere along the way, you stayed behind just to catch him before you headed home, something you’d never admit to anyone or anything.

“I saw your light was on, so I thought to swing by before going to my office. I bought some Huanglong omelets–” he handed you a paper bag “–I also have an idea for a modification we could add to my prosthetic.”

That spurred you to pull out papers and different colors of pens, spreading them out on the bigger table before turning the ceiling lamp on. He had already started sketching before you even got an omelet in your mouth. 

You seated yourself on your chair and rolled to the other side of the table, eyes tracking every swipe of his hand to see the idea bloom on paper. His newest idea was battle oriented. Specifically some kind of tool that could give him the opportunity to snare and damage multiple opponents at once. You weren’t sure what went on in his head for such brilliant ideas to form, but you thanked the dragons out there for letting you witness it so intimately.

As he was sketching, he described his thought process, pausing sometimes to glance up at you for feedback, but you were busy stuffing your cheeks with omelet, barely able to sound out coherent sentences. 

Before long you had finished your breakfast, energized and ready to give some ideas yourself. You bounced ideas between each other. 

“For this,” Xiangli Yao circled one of his scribbles, “we can add a tool akin to a black hole that will detonate on the enemy I defeated, gathering the rest of them in one place while I’m charging up for an attack. I have an idea on what material we can use…”

You were absolutely starstruck.

“Xiangli Yao, the man you are.” You climbed on the table, crawling a short distance to get closer to him before rising to your knees and cupping his face in your hands, slightly shaking his head back and forth. “I’m sure you’ve heard this more than enough– but you are a genius.” 

A faint hue of pink dusted over his cheeks, and it was only then you realized how close you were to him. 

“Oh!” you exclaimed. “Sorry I got carried away–”

Your panic was interrupted by the chill of his metal hand settling over yours. He looked up at you with such puppy eyes that were swirling with an indescribable emotion you wondered how you never noticed. 

Before you knew it, his other hand settled on the back of your head, and you were pulled down. 

His lips were soft. 

The sheer gentleness he treated you with sent electricity crackling in your veins. Your eyes fell shut and you could hear your heart beating in your ears. Your free hand slid down to the back of his neck, fingertips lightly brushing against the hair before it found a place on his shoulder, and you didn’t miss the way he quivered under your touch. 

Xiangli Yao parted with a sigh, eyes fluttering open to unabashedly stare at your face. He intertwined your hands, cool metal palm against the back of your warm hand, and raised it to his lips. Then he pecked your cheek, your forehead, your eyelids, before finally giving you another delicate kiss on your lips. 

“Can’t believe I didn’t do this sooner,” he murmured when he pulled away. You exhaled a laugh.

“I can’t believe it either– oh shit!” You quickly clambered off the table with his help. “I hope I didn’t ruin any of the sketches…”  

“Even if you did, we can just remake them,”  he declared nonchalantly. “Honestly, I would gladly let you ruin my research papers if I get to take you out on a date.”

“You don’t mean that!” you gasped. “You can do that without ruining your work.”

He smiled. “I wasn’t planning on it, don't worry. I’m gonna head to my office now. Just give me a call if you have any other ideas.”

“Will do, will do.”

“I’ll come pick you up at 6 pm today.” He gave you a quick kiss before making his way to the door. “See you then.”  

You were left a blushing mess in your workshop, now a new project and a date in your hands. 

Xiangli Yao was truly an unfair man.

[mightofmerchants]

A first prototype for user-definable water for Canvas of Kings. Feature coming soon.

Tell me what you think! :)

[nagiwrites]

Starlit bonds

CH. 4 - trigger and trust

[← back] [→ next]

A/n : well hopefully this isn’t getting boring thanks for all the likes and comments I really appreciate it after being in a writers block for years.

☆ Content: choosing weapons, more combat.

📌 Synopsis:

When a Wander breaches the ship, Sylus faces his first real combat—and his first real choice. With Y/N by his side, he learns that victory isn’t just about skill, but trust.

Characters: Sylus, Kaela, Reyna, Nova, Y/N.

As Sylus tapped Continue Story, the screen faded to black before transitioning into a new scene. A soft hum of the ship’s engines filled the air as the game resumed, and a notification popped up:

[Chapter 1: Into the Unknown]

(Into the unknooooooooooooooon)

The camera panned in on the training bay, a high-tech facility lined with reinforced walls and holographic combat dummies. Y/N stood at the center, their fingers tapping nervously against a small wrist console.

They glanced up as Sylus approached, shifting slightly on their feet. “Oh… you’re here.”

Nova was leaning against a nearby wall, arms crossed. “Took you long enough. The Captain needs to learn how to fight if he’s going to survive out here.”

Kaela smirked. “Or at least, not embarrass himself in front of us.”

Reyna simply adjusted her glasses, scanning a data pad. “This will be useful. Everyone needs a specialty.”

Y/N cleared their throat, drawing Sylus’ focus back to them. “Um, the others might be better at fighting, but I know the basics… and it’s important to be ready. Sometimes… things get inside the ship.”

A soft chime echoed, and a weapon selection screen appeared:

[Choose Your Weapon]

Each crew member had their own unique weapon, displayed on the menu beside their character profile. Sylus scrolled through the options, reading over their descriptions:

1. Nova’s Dual Blades – High-speed, close-range combat. Requires agility and precision.

2. Kaela’s Plasma Gauntlets – Heavy-hitting melee attacks with shockwave capabilities.

3. Reyna’s Precision Rifle – Long-range sniper weapon. Deadly from a distance.

4. Y/N’s Energy Bow – A versatile weapon with charged shots and silent takedown capabilities.

At the bottom of the screen, a fifth option appeared:

5. Prototype Combat Knife & Sidearm (basically a pistol) – A balanced choice with melee and ranged potential. Recommended for first-time users.

Y/N hesitated before speaking. “Each of us uses a weapon suited to our strengths. But you… you get to choose your own.”

Nova smirked. “No pressure, Captain. Just don’t pick something you can’t handle.”

Sylus hovered over the choices, weighing his options.

Each weapon felt like more than just a tool—it was a reflection of his playstyle, his approach to the game. Did he want speed? Power? Precision? Or something entirely unique?

His gaze lingered on each weapon, considering how they would shape not only his fighting style but also his role among the crew.

Nova’s Dual Blades were sleek and deadly, perfect for fast, agile combat. If he wanted to rely on speed and precision, this was the way to go.

• Kaela’s Plasma Gauntlets offered raw power—close-quarters devastation that could send enemies flying. Heavy-hitting, but it would require strength and endurance.

• Reyna’s Precision Rifle appealed to the strategist in him. Keeping enemies at a distance, picking them off with well-placed shots—it was a cool, calculated approach.

• Y/N’s Energy Bow was silent, precise, and versatile. It required patience, but its charged shots packed a punch. Something about it intrigued him.

And then, at the bottom of the list, there was the Prototype Combat Knife & Sidearm. A balanced choice—good for both close-range and ranged engagements. It was the safest option, but also the most neutral.

As Sylus hovered over the choices, a soft notification popped up in the corner of the screen:

[Your weapon choice will influence combat interactions, story events, and crew relationships.]

He smirked. Of course it will.

Nova pushed off the wall, arms still crossed. “What’s it gonna be, Captain?”

Kaela leaned in slightly, watching with interest. “Better choose wisely.”

Reyna remained quiet, simply observing. Y/N, on the other hand, fidgeted slightly, eyes flickering to their bow before looking away.

Sylus’ thumb hovered over the screen.

Sylus’ decision wasn’t just about combat; it was a statement.

He tapped the screen, locking in his selection: Prototype Combat Knife & Sidearm.

The option glowed beneath his thumb, and the soft chime of confirmation echoed through the room. Balanced. Versatile. Unaligned. This wasn’t just a weapon—it was a choice that would define how he fought, how he led, and how the crew would see him moving forward.

Nova nodded approvingly. “Interesting choice. Fits your style.”

Kaela smirked. “Going for the well-rounded approach? Smart.”

Reyna offered a small nod, her eyes flicking toward the interface before returning to her datapad.

But it was Y/N’s reaction that caught his attention. For a moment, he thought he saw a flicker of disappointment in their expression—barely there, quickly hidden as they looked away.

He wasn’t sure why that hit him the way it did.

But it disappeared as quickly as it had come. Instead, Y/N gave him a small nod, their fingers tightening around the strap of their wrist console.

“That’s… a good choice,” they murmured, though there was something hesitant in their tone.

Sylus raised an eyebrow, watching them carefully. Y/N wasn’t the type to speak their mind openly, but for some reason, he felt like they had wanted him to choose differently.

Before he could ask, the screen flickered, and a combat tutorial prompt appeared:

[Combat Basics: Learn to Engage]

Objective: Use your chosen weapon to eliminate a simulated enemy threat. Test your reflexes and accuracy.

The environment around them shifted—the training bay’s walls transformed into a holographic simulation, revealing a dimly lit corridor filled with flickering emergency lights. The ship AI’s voice echoed overhead:

“Scenario loaded. Simulated hostile detected. Begin engagement.”

A humanoid figure materialized at the far end of the corridor, its glowing red eyes locking onto Sylus. It was an automaton—likely a training drone—but its movements were eerily lifelike.

Y/N stepped closer. “You’ll want to start with the basics—your knife for close-quarters, your sidearm for distance.”

A new interface appeared on the screen, mapping out his controls:

• Tap to shoot

• Swipe to dodge

• Hold to switch between melee and ranged attacks

Sylus smirked. Let’s see what this thing can do.

The drone rushed forward. His instincts kicked in—he tapped the screen, firing off a precise shot. The bullet struck its shoulder, making it stagger. But it didn’t stop.

“Careful!” Y/N warned. “They adapt—go for a weak point!”

A target reticle flashed over the drone’s exposed leg joint. Sylus quickly swiped, switching to his knife, and lunged forward. A quick slash, a vibration from his phone, and the drone collapsed.

[Simulation Complete! Combat Skill +3 | Weapon Proficiency Unlocked]

As the holographic scene faded, Nova let out a low whistle. “Not bad, Captain.”

Kaela grinned. “You didn’t trip over yourself, so I’d call that a win.”

Reyna gave him an approving nod. “You learn fast. That’ll serve you well.”

Y/N, however, simply watched him, their expression unreadable. Then, quietly, they spoke.

“There’s more to combat than just skill. You’ll see that soon enough.”

A small chime rang out, signaling the end of the tutorial. Another notification appeared:

[Chapter 1: Mission Unlocked – Intruder Alert]

Not all threats come from outside. When a Wander infiltrates the ship, the crew must work together to neutralize it before it’s too late.

Sylus exhaled, gripping his phone a little tighter.

This game wasn’t playing around. And neither was he.

As Sylus stood amidst the flickering holographic remnants of the training simulation, a new system prompt appeared on his screen:

[Partner Selection: Choose Your Combat Ally]

Each crew member has a unique combat style and special abilities. Choose wisely—the bond you form in battle may shape future encounters.

The screen displayed each of the four women, their character portraits subtly animated as if waiting for his decision. Beside their images, their Default Combat Cards were displayed—special abilities that could be leveled up as the game progressed.

Nova – The Bladed Storm

• Weapon: Dual Blades

• Default Card: Phantom Strikes – A flurry of rapid slashes, overwhelming enemies with sheer speed.

• Playstyle: High-speed melee combat, focusing on quick evasion and aggressive offense.

Nova’s portrait had a confident smirk, her arms crossed as if daring him to choose her.

“Pick me, and we’ll make quick work of whatever’s coming.”

Kaela – The Shockwave Brawler

• Weapon: Plasma Gauntlets

• Default Card: Titan’s Fist – A ground-shaking punch that sends shockwaves through the battlefield, stunning enemies.

• Playstyle: Heavy-hitting melee combat, excelling in crowd control and raw power.

Kaela’s image flickered slightly as she leaned lazily against the training bay’s counter, her smirk playful.

“You want someone to keep the fight fun? I’m your girl.”

Reyna – The Deadeye Tactician

• Weapon: Precision Rifle

• Default Card: Hawkeye’s Mark – A critical shot that locks onto an enemy’s weak point, dealing massive damage.

Playstyle: Long-range combat, specializing in precision and strategic positioning.

Reyna’s gaze was steady and unreadable in her portrait.

“If you want results, you’ll need someone who doesn’t miss.”

Y/N – The Phantom Archer

• Weapon: Energy Bow

• Default Card: Silent Requiem – A charged shot that bypasses armor and disables enemy movement for a short time.

• Playstyle: Versatile mid-to-long-range combat, emphasizing precision and status effects.

Unlike the others, Y/N looked slightly uncertain in their image, their fingers fidgeting near the strap of their wrist console. But there was a quiet determination in their expression as well.

“I-I’ll do my best to help. If… if you choose me.”

Sylus exhaled, his thumb hovering over the options.

The ship’s AI chimed overhead, signaling an incoming threat.

He had to decide.

Now.

Sylus’ gaze was drawn to Y/N’s image on the screen, their expression hinting at a mixture of uncertainty and determination. Their words echoed in his mind:

“I’ll do my best to help. If… if you choose me.”

He glanced at the others—their confident smirks and calm expressions. They were undoubtedly capable, but… something about Y/N’s quiet resolve struck him differently. They were the one he couldn’t quite read, the one whose vulnerability spoke volumes beneath the surface he yearned to uncover.

With a decisive tap, Sylus selected Y/N as his combat partner.

[Partner Selected: Y/N – The Phantom Archer]

• Weapon Equipped: Energy Bow

• Combat Card: Silent Requiem – A charged shot that bypasses armor and disables enemy movement for a short time.

The moment he made his choice, the training bay dimmed, and a loud klaxon echoed through the ship. A flashing red alert appeared at the top of the screen:

[INTRUDER ALERT: WANDER DETECTED ONBOARD]

The environment shifted, transitioning into the real fight. The game’s immersive quality was astonishing—Sylus could almost feel the tension in the air as the ship’s corridors darkened, emergency lighting casting eerie glows against the metal walls.

Y/N stood beside him, gripping their energy bow with both hands. They exhaled softly, their fingers brushing against the bowstring as it crackled with glowing energy.

“We can do this,” they murmured, mostly to themself, before glancing at him with an almost hesitant nod.

“I-I mean, I won’t slow you down, Captain.”

Before he could respond, a mechanical screech echoed down the hallway.

A Wander appeared—a grotesque, shifting mass of shadows and metallic limbs, its glowing red eyes locked onto them. The tutorial combat HUD activated, overlaying the fight mechanics on his phone screen.

[Combat Start!]

• Tap to fire the sidearm

• Swipe to dodge incoming attacks

• Hold and release to charge Y/N’s bow attack

Sylus aimed quickly, tapping the screen to fire off a few sidearm shots. The bullets hit, but the Wander barely staggered—it was armored, resistant to basic attacks.

Y/N’s voice cut through the tension.

“Aim for the joints! That’s where the armor is weakest!”

He followed their advice, targeting the creature’s exposed limbs. A well-placed shot hit its leg, making it stumble.

“Nice shot!” Y/N called out, their voice carrying a quiet excitement.

“Keep going—we can wear it down!”

The Wander let out a distorted shriek and lunged. Sylus swiped his thumb across the screen, making his character roll just in time to avoid the strike. His phone vibrated subtly with the impact.

“Watch out! Stay light on your feet!” Y/N warned, repositioning themself.

A glowing indicator flashed over their weapon—their Special Ability was charged.

“Captain—I can disable it, but I need a clear shot!”

A quick-time event popped up:

[TAP NOW TO ACTIVATE: SILENT REQUIEM]

Sylus reacted instantly. He tapped the screen, and Y/N pulled back their bowstring, a concentrated pulse of energy crackling along the arrow’s surface.

“Steady… and… release!”

The energy shot struck the Wander directly in the chest, sending a pulse through its body. The creature convulsed, its limbs locking up as the disabling effect took hold.

A final “FINISH IT!” prompt appeared on-screen. Sylus raised his sidearm one last time, taking aim—

BANG.

The Wander let out a final shriek before collapsing into a smoking heap.

VICTORY!

[Combat Complete! Battle Experience +10 | Y/N Affinity Increased]

The emergency lighting returned to normal, and the game’s UI faded back into exploration mode. Y/N lowered their bow, exhaling slowly. They looked up at him, a small but genuine smile on their lips.

“We… we did it.”

Sylus smirked, his heart still racing from the fight.

“Yeah. We make a good team.”

Y/N’s blush darkened slightly, and they quickly looked away, tucking a strand of hair behind their ear.

“I-I’m glad you think so.”

Before he could do anything else, a soft chime rang out, signaling the end of the tutorial phase. A new objective appeared on-screen:

[CHAPTER 1 COMPLETE!]

New Ship Functions Unlocked: Crew Missions | Combat Training | Personal Interactions

As the game transitioned back to the Home Screen, the familiar sight of the crew lounge returned. But this time, there was a subtle difference—Y/N, who had been more withdrawn before, was now sitting closer to where his character’s presence would be, glancing up at him between reading on their datapad.

Sylus exhaled, sinking back into his seat.

He had started this game on a whim.

But now?

He wasn’t sure he wanted to stop.

A/n: gonna end here I was gonna add some myth card content but this chap was probably already getting long so sorry if this was boring but thanks for reading.

Tags:

@kaylauvu

@codedove

@crazy-ink-artist

@animegamerfox

[thatpointything]

Screw it, posting a silly crossover I’ve been hyperfixating on for a while here

Poppy Playtime/Elden Ring crossover

Basically, parts of the Playtime Co. factory moments after the Hour of Joy begins are transported to the Lands Between. Of course, things radically change with this sudden new player in the Lands Between as both employee and living toy escape from the chunks of the factory. Another thing to note is that some stuff from Elden Ring such as the Scarlet Rot has unique interactions with some Poppy Playtime stuff. Here’s what I’ve got on the big guys so far. They’re all really just rough drafts but enjoy!

Huggy Wuggy

Experiment 1170’s near-mindlessness made it perfect for it to be maddened by the Frenzied Flame. Nowadays, Huggy Wuggy is known as ‘The Frenzied Candle’ and is the de facto leader of the Frenzied Flame Village. Found as an optional boss there.

Phase 1 theme: A mix of No More Hugs and The Cuckoo Knights

Phase 2 theme: A mix of Happy Room and Formidable Foe I

Mommy Long Legs

Mommy Long Legs, like many other living toys that escaped the pieces of Playtime Co., severely underestimated the Lands Between and she lost one of her arms to Godrick the Grafted (who grafted said arm to himself afterwards) for it. Some time later, she started experimenting with grafting and even magic in an elaborate plan to kill Godrick. Found in the Academy of Raya Lucaria as an optional boss.

Phase 1 theme: A mix of One Last Game and Bloody Fingers

Phase 2 theme: A mix of Arachnophobia and Death’s Kindred

CatNap

CatNap, having left the factory some time after the Hour of Joy, was a staunch follower of the Prototype for the longest time. However, when the Prototype disappeared to seek the skin of gods, CatNap had a crisis of faith. In this state, he was far more vicious than usual, but he later had a change of faith. He turned to worshipping the Erdtree like the inhabitants of the Lands Between. However, he worships the Erdtree in a way that the Golden Order sees as heretical. At some point, he managed to sneak into Leyndell, set up shop in the East Capital Rampart and constructed a crude shrine to the Erdtree there. Nowadays, CatNap is a de facto Golden Order Fundamentalist despite not actually being part of the Golden Order, wearing discarded or stolen pieces of armor from that group. Found as a mandatory boss there, but you can choose not to kill him at the end of the fight and he even has his own questline and ending. The ending is called Age of Madness.

Phase 1 theme (Catnap, Erdtree Fundamentalist): A mix of Get Out and Erdtree Knights

Phase 2 theme: A mix of I Had A Nightmare and Godrick, the Grafted

Pianosaurus

Experiment 1163 was one of the first of the living toys from Playtime Co. to be infected by the Scarlet Rot. And thanks to the Rot’s interaction with the exotic materials that make up the outer shell of Pianosaurus, it quickly became one of the more violent creatures to be born from this kind of interaction. Thankfully, the beast shuns the light of the sun. Found in Gaol Cave heavily infected with and mutated by the Scarlet Rot. Fought as an optional boss there.

Battle theme: Omen Illusion

Yarnaby

Found in Limgrave. Can either be fought for his Remembrance or domesticated, which will give you a tool similar to the Spectral Steed Whistle. And to domesticate Yarnaby you need to give him certain meats, which are as follows…

Boiled Crab

Fireproof Pickled Liver

Immunizing Cured Meat

Well-Pickled Turtle Neck

Sacred Bloody Flesh

Opaline Pickled Liver

These can be fed to Yarnaby in no particular order. As a steed, Yarnaby is arguably better than Torrent in some aspects, as he can fight back when attacked and is faster than Torrent. However, Yarnaby’s main drawbacks as a steed are that he’s too big to go some places and he’s weak to fire.

Battle theme: A mix of All Skein And Bone and Old Warriors

The Doctor

After the event that transplanted parts of Playtime Co. into the Lands Between, it was only a matter of time until the reserve power in the chunk that housed Harley Sawyer ran out. This took a long time. Long enough that deathroot began to sprout in the chunk that housed him, but it eventually happened. However, because of the deathroot, one of the reserve bodies was animated by the power of the plant, with Harley’s soul having been forced inside it. As a result, he effectively became one of Those Who Live in Death, but for reasons unknown, Harley retained most of his soul. Found in Bonny Gaol, which he and several other surviving scientists from Playtime Co. had taken over and converted into a sort of laboratory.

Doey the Doughman

For Doey, he was infected by the Scarlet Rot at some point, which affected him a lot more severely thanks to his nature as a mass of living dough. Despite this, he retained most of his sanity and even managed to turn the Erdtree Sanctuary in Leyndell into an equivalent to the Safe Haven from Chapter 4. Depending on the choices of the Tarnished, when the Erdtree catches fire, this Safe Haven will either be evacuated to the Leyndell Catacombs or be attacked by an Ulcerated Tree Spirit. In the former case, there are minimal casualties and Doey will even give you Lord of Blood’s Exultation (provided you haven’t killed Esgar yet) as a thank you for warning him and advising him and his friends to get to safety. His Scarlet Rot symptoms even seem to be fading away in this case. In the latter case, most of the individuals in this new Safe Haven will have been killed by the Ulcerated Tree Spirit, but Doey will have killed it by the time you find him. And Doey has a mental breakdown like he does in Chapter 4, meaning you have to fight him. He fully succumbs to the Scarlet Rot in Phase 3 of his fight, becoming a being known as The Avatar of Rot.

Phase 1 theme (Doey, the Man of Clay): A mix of It’s All Ruined and Morgott, the Omen King

Phase 2 theme (Doey, Beast of a Thousand Shapes): A mix of Catalyst and Lichdragon Fortissax

Phase 3 theme (Avatar of Rot): A mix of Always Hurt Back and Mohg, Lord of Blood

[bainshiewrites]

[LF Friends, Will Travel] Why it hurts

Date: 65 PST (Post Stasis Time).

Bartholomule sat at the desk, his stubby little paws working diligently towards the task of putting together the screws and springs of his design together. The single desk lamp illuminated the otherwise dark room, highlighting his face; the cream coloured fur that covered his entire body being punctuated by two large black eyes and a little tongue sticking out of a mouth in concentration. His floppy ears bounced around his head, his entire 4ft tall body moving up and down as if listening to a silent tune while Bartholomule put the final touches on the mechanical duck he was putting together.

The fact that he required a booster seat in order to use the desk correctly finished the overall picture. Bartholomule was a Hatil, and by Terran standards "Fucking adorable".

The large room was punctuated by two other lights at which had their own respective Terrans sat separately, a Rosa and Tim, both fiddling with their own creations. Everyone else had long gone home, but the three were still working on their projects as the end of the working week, each of them invested enough into their creations that leaving them unfinished would annoy them for the next 4 days until Monday rolled around again.

It was strange work in these times: nowadays you could spin up, design, and have a prototype printed off in less then a hour using AI and computers; but that wasn't how the Zonka Joy Corporation worked. They believed that the little imperfections from a biological mind gave a toy something else, something special, and their commercial success suggested they might be onto something.

A noise blared out amongst the silence, a short simple signified the completion of Rosa's creation. This was followed by a sigh of success and the sound of her putting away her tools and getting up to leave for the week, a satisfied smile on her face.

"And that's me done! All of you have a good weekend, and I'll see you on Monday!".

This attracted Bartholomule's attention, causing him to momentarily look up from his work and give the Terran a big smile of his own.

"Before you go Rosa, a few of us are going to the Toymaster convention on Friday. I was supposed to ask if you wanted to come with us, it should be fun!"

As Rosa turned to look at the Hatil, the smile on her face instantly faded into a harsh grimace, eyes staring coldly back at Bartholomule, as if she was instantly reminded of something terrible. The moment lasted for far longer than it should have, the Terran almost staring right past the little Hatil for 30 seconds, sucking the energy out of the room in an instant.

"No. I'm Good, I'll see you on Monday."

Rosa left abruptly without any further action, almost seeming to flee the interaction as fast as she could without actually running, body language now stiff and defensive. The human left behind an awkward feeling in the near empty workshop, a confused and now frowning Bartholomule watching as Rosa left.

The Hatil had arrived on Earth 6 months ago, partly to take his current job, mostly in order to experience new and exciting things. He was very happy during his time on the birthplace of the Terrans, even though there were only a handful of other Hatil on the planet because of... reasons.

Still, he enjoyed his time around Terrans, and Earth was exciting. Dangerous, yes, but exciting. While most Terrans were friendly, this kind of reaction from some people kept happening, this weird... coldness. Bartholomule paused for a moment, wondering whether to say anything before turning to the last remaining person in the room.

"Tim. Have I offended Rosa in some way?"

A pause, a special kind of silence caused when someone really doesn't want to answer a question, Tim giving an providing Bartholomule more space to keep talking.

"Because this has happened a few times, I was wondering if there was a misunderstanding of Terran culture, I don't want to cause distress".

A very distinct sigh came from Tim as he very slowly and purposefully put down the tools and toy train he was working on, taking before looking up with a grimace before speaking softly in a gruff voice.

"Look, don't tell anyone I said anything, but you do need to know as you’ve asked this before. The answer is long and complicated, but the short answer is it's because you're a Hatil, and that brings up bad memories. Not everyone has gotten over the hurt of what happened."

There was a cold wave of dismay that ran through Bartholomule as he knew exactly what Tim was talking about. The war of shame, the eternal guilt that every Hatil was taught about as a pup. The Hatil - Terran war, a stupid act of his stupid ancestors.

"But that was over sixty years ago, there's no way either of you were around back then?"

Tim gave a little shrug in response.

"Most Terrans you see were still alive back then. Our regenerative technology is top notch, I'm over 300 but don't look a day over thirty. Plus with what happened before right before the war and... what do you know about Terrans?".

Bartholomule thought for a moment. He knew they were generally tough, that they were the original founders of the Terran Alliance. He knew they were the only species to create a successful AI that didn't try to kill everyone, and were known for their above average stamina.

Oh, and they had the single biggest pack bonding drive in the known universe: The information guide on Terrans provided by his government when Bartholomule had moved to Earth had stated never to give any "Machine, Food dispenser, wild animal, brick, pebble, leaf, twig, paper or piece of lint" a name in front of a Terran, lest they pack bond with it and emotional harm is caused.

But Bartholomule guessed Tim wasn't talking about any of that.

"I know you're all technically over a ten thousand years old, as a disease forced Terrans into stasis. That's why you're a relatively new addition to the Galaxy, after a cure was found by your AI sixty five years ago."

"That's the child friendly version. The fact is the god plague was brutal. The thing altered DNA at an exponential rate, so basically a week after catching it you were nothing but a ball of tumours. Outside of stupid temperatures destroying the thing was near impossible, could survive the vacuum of space and it spread by both air and water. A single microbe of that shit entered your planet and you were frankly fucked."

There was a moment as Tim took a second to pause, a pained look on his face as old memories were brought up

The total death rate was around 50%, but that wasn't spread out equally. The first few planets infected with the plague had little under a week to realise there was no cure and to start freezing everyone. There were the riots, the destructive attempts at quarantine, fighting over stasis chambers, just bad all around. That's without getting into the 25% AI death rate."

The obvious confusion on Bartholomule's face was obvious. How could a virus kill an AI? And what did this have to do with people’s reactions to him?

"We only knew this after unfreezing, but for ten thousand years humans were basically an extinct race, the only Terrans alive were the AI and uplifts we had left behind. Not all of our friends could handle that... a lot of us awoke from stasis to find friends he had left behind were no more. But you know the real kicker?"

Tim gave a small sad laugh as he continued to explain

"The only reason it happened was because we didn't know that you guys existed. Our entire sector of space is empty of life, so we assumed that there was nothing out there. The god plague was originally an experiment to create new life that got out of hand. Waking up to realise the entire reason for all that pain and death was faulty, that if we'd just gone another 50 light years down the road none of it would have happened... that hurt, that hurt a lot."

The Terran gave a deep sigh before continuing.

"But when we realised there was life out there, it might have been a bittersweet realisation, but it was still sweet. Ever the optimists we reached out to our closest neighbours, the Hatil, and then..."

"We declared war."

The war of shame. A faulty war of aggression waged sixty years ago based on two incorrect and immoral ideas: That any race using AI was a threat to the galaxy that needed to be destroyed, and that any civilization that had spent the last ten thousand years in stasis would be technologically primitive.

The latter being the most incorrect, after the initial assault on two Terran Colonies and destroying the Terran's initial diplomatic envoy, the Terrans had turned around and dominated Hatil army, ending with their largest colony being planet cracked.

It was why even though the Hatil considered themselves close allies with their now Terran friends, to the extent that Terran culture tended to dominate, the Hatil tended not to visit Earth that often: A deep cultural guilt that just thinking about wracked Bartholomule body with shame.

"Well not you personally, but yes. As an extra pile of pain the Hatil possibly are the worst species to fight. No offence, but you basically look like a golden retriever, a teddy bear and a baby seal were all squished together. You're adorable. There's a reason we had that 'No touching coworkers' seminar after you joined."

This wasn't anything new to Bartholomule, the toy based on his likeness was one of the biggest sellers if the royalty payments were anything to go by. He'd gotten used to being randomly hugged by random Terran children, the young apes often being peeled off him by very embarrassed and apologetic parents. He wasn't yet used to drunk Terran adults often doing the same...

"You tie all that together, and it was a perfect psychological kickin. It was like learning that Sesame street exists after much searching and sacrifice, but Elmo personally thinks you're a terrible person and wants to kill you. It's why we went too far and planet cracked your colony."

Now that was news for Bartholomule, the idea that the destruction of Tavairis was somehow immoral. As a cub he'd been taught that considering it was a war of aggression from their side, they were lucky the Terrans were merciful enough to accept surrender and stop there. The concept that Terrans might regret such an action was interesting.

"Unfortunately it means for a lot of people, they see you and it reminds them of the plague, the war after, the loneliness and hurt. They should remain cordial, and I'll give anyone who isn't a good speaking too and maybe more, but they aren't going to want to be your friend either."

Silence weighed down on the room for a while, the weight of what had been said hanging in the air, nothing more than the slight hum of two lamps buzzing in the darkened office, before Bartholomule finally broke the silence.

"So why aren't you the same?".

A smile spread across the features of Tim's face.

"I know it isn't your fault what happened. Some of us heal faster than others and some of us had an easier time of it. My job during the war was R&D. I made designs for weapons that never got built once we realised just how far ahead we were. Rosa, she was infantry. Remember what I said about how the Hatil looks in terms of adorableness? That messed a lot of people up real good."

"Still isn't fair though".

"No it isn't and I'll have a talk with her. Just keep in mind that while time heals all wounds, when it wants to the universe can really pile on the hurt."

[honeybeeofficial]

Im obsessed with your horseshoe crab bag and wanna make my own but dont have any leather working experience or knowledge, did you have a pattern you followed or did you just free hand it? also what would you recommend to someone wanting to try leather crafts for a first time?

I'll answer both this and a related question from @chaoticspaces:

hey! I’m in love with your crab bag. you mentioned you’ve never worked with leather; do you have any tips on where/how to start learning? or did you just wing it? I must preface that I’m a beginner at any sort of crafting and will have to learn the building blocks first but damn, people can just MAKE that kinda shit? I’ll learn to sew for that.

So it must be acknowledged that I am a fairly experienced crafter, I grew up sewing and sculpting and origami-ing and all sorts of crafty things. Meaning that although the horseshoe crab is my first experience in leatherworking, it's building off of existing crafting skills and experience thinking through how materials behave and how shapes interact. I say this as a preface not to discourage anyone from diving in, but rather so anyone who's newer to crafting can go in with a bit of perspective and not get discouraged if they don't get the hang of it right away! Be patient with yourself and keep pursuing the skills you want to develop.

With that out of the way, here's a (slightly abbreviated, but still Long) walk through what my process was like for drafting the pattern and learning how to work with leather!

Drafting the pattern

I started by looking up pictures of horseshoe crabs and doing a simple drawing of one from the top and from the side to get a sense of the shapes.

Then I broke it down into sections to make things easier on myself. Reducing things to basic shapes (crescent, box, wedge, cone, etc) is a good way to start making sense of a more complex form.

To make it work in three dimensions, I'd sketch what I think the shapes should probably be; cut out a mini version in paper; tape it together; go "hmm, that's not right," and adjust the sketch; repeat until I get roughly the form I'm looking for.

Once I had a general shape that worked, I recreated those pieces on paper again, this time full-size. That involved a lot of math to make sure all the proportions scaled accurately. Then I cut out those pieces and taped them together and adjusted any basic proportions again to fix anything that I scaled wrong.

At that point, I had a shape that read fairly well as horseshoe crab, and that would have been fine. However, I wanted things to curve and flare and be more organic, which is where a lot of the trickier adjustments come in. Using paper prototypes allowed me to work quickly and make changes easily. To exaggerate a curve, I'd cut the tape "seam", bend the paper into the desired shape, and then add or remove material from the adjoining sides until that curve stayed in place when re-taped. Each piece of the pattern is responsible for helping its neighbors stay in place.

After I got my paper prototype to a point I was happy with, I got some cheap sheets of kids' craft foam and made another prototype in that, but stitched instead of taped, in order to test the pattern as thoroughly as possible without having to use my actual leather for it.

---

Learning basic leatherworking

Youtube! I searched things like "introduction to leatherworking," "leatherworking techniques for beginners," "how to attach two pieces of leather," etc. There are a bunch of videos that show very detailed but not-too-lengthy examples of basic techniques.

Once I had seen a few examples and made a list of the basic tools I would need to get started, I went out and got myself some tools and scrap leather to experiment with. I watched some more videos showing how to use my tools, and followed along with them

Some of the techniques I looked up to start:

How to use an adjustable groover, stitching chisel, beveler, and wood slicker

Saddle stitching

Box stitching

Butt stitching (Yeah, I know)

How to set rivets in leather

What kind of leather dye/what kind of leather conditioner to use

I spent some time testing techniques, even ones I didn't need for this project, because the more time you spend with your material and tools, the more you'll understand how they work and how to get them to do what you want. I have a bunch of scraps lying around that just have random burnished edges, wonky rivets, stitches that don't go anywhere, etc.

I also found it helpful to look through leatherworking subreddits and follow leather crafters on instagram and look through what they're doing for inspiration, tips & tricks, and to see how they handle unusual shapes. Those subreddits can also be a good resource for finding existing answers to questions you have, or asking questions yourself.

[arya-skywalker]

An Unexpected Alliance (Arcane fanfic)

Summary: Viktor has an unexpected visitor and helps her with a prosthetic. They bond over shared experiences and form an alliance.

Notes: A late entry to @arcanefandomweek ‘s Arcane Visions Week 1: Alliances. I need Viktor and Jinx to interact in season 2. Maybe they’d be friends. Maybe they’d just clash and collide. This is an exploration of how it might go. Inspired by a few trailers and promo posters, as well as some league lore; so beware potential spoilers!

Timeline wise… who knows? Just having fun with possibilities here.

TW: loss of limb, fictional drug (shimmer), cults, human experimentation

AO3 link

~*~

Viktor glanced up as a flash of blue burst into his workshop. Long blue hair. Jinx. Of course it was only a matter of time before she found him, whether he wanted her to or not. He set aside his tools and braced for the whirlwind.

She darted around the room, inspecting various prosthetics and chattering on about… something. He failed to see any train of logic, but she didn’t seem to be talking to him so he didn’t bother trying to decipher it.

“Please be careful not to break anything, some of these items are very fragile,” Viktor warned, before she could do anything too drastic.

Jinx turned to face him, eyes glowing purple. Shimmer. “Oh, there you are! Mr. Machine Herald! Almost didn’t see ya with all…” She gestured to the various parts and half-made prototypes surrounding him. He supposed his metal parts did blend in, but he rarely wanted to be found in the first place.

His gaze flicked to her left hand. Her middle finger was missing, the wound still leaking a mixture of blood and shimmer despite a crude bandage. “You’re hurt,” he blurted. “Let me help.”

She grinned. “I was hoping you’d offer! Can I get a cool upgrade? Like a giant middle finger with a laser or a blaster!”

“Let us start with the basics, hm? May I see?” he asked, holding out a hand.

She skipped over and slapped her injured hand into his. He winced in sympathy, then looked closer, taking a clean damp cloth in his free hand.

“How did this happen?” Viktor asked as he carefully removed the soaked bandage and cleaned the wound. He’d seen worse, it would likely be a simple fix.

“Stupid Piltie shot it off with stupid fancy gun. I could make a waaay better one!”

“A fancy gun, hm? What kind of fancy?”

“Oh something Hextech-y; it was glowing blue. But it didn’t explode, which is boring.”

Hextech. Jayce was making more weapons. It shouldn’t be a surprise, but still it stung. They both had failed to carry through on their promises. At least Viktor was trying to do good, but Jayce seemed to have fallen even further. Traitor.

“Hey, hey, easy on the grip!”

Viktor glanced back at her hand and loosened his grip. Something had to be wrong with the wiring of his hand to cause it to tighten so. “Apologies.” Then he cleared what remained of his throat and asked, “When did you last take shimmer? I am not judging— I have taken it myself— but it will affect how we continue, so please be truthful.”

“Hm? Oh! I don’t take it! Not like that, pfft no. The doctor did some funky experiment to save my life a while ago and I’ve been purple ever since!”

Viktor stiffened. “The doctor did this to you? Singed?”

“Yep!” Jinx nodded emphatically.

Another experiment. A human experiment. His gut twisted. Viktor knew Singed had done terrible things in the name of science. Shimmer was one of them, a double-edged sword. But this seemed a step further. Shimmer created within a human body. Had she become the new Rio? Gods, he hoped not.

Viktor shook his head. “Eh, anyway, would you prefer the prosthetic to be fused to your flesh or easily replaceable?”

Jinx tapped her chin. “Hmm… replaceable. That way I can make my own upgrades!”

“Understandable.” Viktor wrapped the wound with a clean bandage. The shimmer still in her system would likely help it heal faster regardless. He used the Hexclaw as an extra hand to make a few measurements and jot them down, then moved to find the necessary parts.

“Are you really all robot?” Jinx asked.

“Eh… not entirely.” He shrugged. “Perhaps eventually I will be.”

“That’s what your cult wants, right? The ‘Glorious Evolution’ or whatever?”

He scoffed. “They are not my cult. I do not ask for it, I do not want them following me.”

“I didn’t ask for mine either!” Jinx laughed. “Funny how that works. Just wake up one day and boom! Everyone dying their hair blue and begging for prosthetics!”

“Mm. These things are out of our control.”

“Don’t they listen to you?”

Viktor shrugged again. Mostly he avoided them and pretended they didn’t exist. “I have tried occasionally, but they find a way to twist my words to suit their purposes.”

“Mine would set Piltover ablaze for me if I asked,” Jinx said. “No one wanted anything to do with me before. My inventions never worked, or they exploded. I messed everything up.” Her voice cracked.

Viktor looked back at her, some small part of him softening. Another misfit, shunned by society. “No one really wanted me around either. I was a cripple and a foreigner. I spent much of my time away from my peers, but I preferred it that way. Someone I once knew told me that loneliness is the byproduct of a gifted mind, one of the few things he may have been right about. And sometimes we learn better from our failures than our successes, however painful it may be.”

Jinx’s eyes widened, staring at him. “Really?”

“It’s true.” Viktor hesitated a moment, trying to think of something else to reassure her. “I have seen your bombs. The design was very impressive, unique and effective. It was a challenge to defuse. You are very intelligent, Jinx. If you ever wish to put your mind to less destructive purposes, I would be glad to work with you.”

Jinx shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Here, watch.” Viktor pieced together a prosthetic finger, trimmed a bit to fit to her measurements. He attached it to a partial glove and held it out to her. Every step he explained, just in case she was interested. Perhaps it would help. “Try this on. It should fit underneath your other glove, if you wish.”

Jinx snatched it from his hand, looking at it curiously. “That’s it?”

“For a basic prosthetic, yes. As you said, you can make upgrades as you see fit. For now, try it on, see if it works.”

Jinx put on the prosthetic, and he guided her through a few tests to ensure it was functioning properly. Once she passed the tests, Jinx flipped him off with the prosthetic. “It’s perfect!”

“Good, I’m glad you like it. Is there anything else?”

Jinx was quiet for a few seconds, fiddling with the prosthetic. “Sevika said I could unite the whole of Zaun if I tried.” She looked back at him. “Hey, we should unite our cults!”

Viktor squinted at her. “Unite our cults?”

“Yeah! Make an alliance!” Jinx grinned at him.

“I have no interest in attacking Piltover.”

Jinx blew a raspberry like a child. “Boring! Why not?” She narrowed her eyes. “Because of your fucking Piltie? Your Hextech partner? The Golden Boy of Progress? Are you still on his side?”

Viktor exhaled slowly, the fans of his ventilator whirring. He had to be careful. Antagonizing Jinx and her cult would be a terrible idea. “This isn’t about him. I do not wish to fight anyone, on either side. I am a scientist, not a soldier. My creations are to improve lives, not take them. I am only wary of what such an attack would mean for the common people, on both sides. Wars rarely end well.”

He took a breath, continuing before she could interrupt, “Perhaps we could simply have a truce between us? You tell your cult not to antagonize mine, and I do the same. If any of your cult require prosthetics, I would be happy to supply.” He would help anyone who stumbled into his workshop or requested his assistance, but still it was an olive branch. Whether his cult would listen was another matter, but he hoped they would.

Jinx tilted her head to the side, seeming to stare straight through him. “That’s all you want? Nothing about your Piltie?”

“Jayce is mine to deal with. I would greatly prefer if you leave him alive.”

“I can kidnap him for you and bring him here!”

“That is not necessary.”

“But you’d rather he be kidnapped than killed, right?”

That was undoubtably a threat. Fine. Jayce would be safer with him than any chem-barons. Viktor inclined his head. “Very well. If the opportunity arises to capture Jayce without severely harming him, you may bring him to me.”

“Great! It’s a deal!” Jinx bounced to her feet. “I’ve got something of yours. You gotta have something of mine now! Can I paint on you?”

Viktor hesitated. “What would you like to paint?”

“Just some blue clouds and stuff. You know, the more hopeful version of my symbol.” Jinx brandished a blue paint pen. “You can’t wash it off!”

It could be worse. “If you must. Just.. nothing too extreme.”

Jinx grinned and climbed on top of his chair to get closer, drawing on his metal chest plate and over his shoulder. Viktor remained perfectly still, watching her work. Blue swirls and clouds and sparkles. He could pretend it represented Hextech if asked. Or perhaps it would be better to admit their strange alliance.

Jayce would hate it.

Viktor craned his neck as she moved towards his back, careful not to jostle her. “How much are you drawing?”

“What, change your mind? Gotta make sure everyone can see it!”

“I did not change my mind. I am only curious.”

“Hold onto your horses, I’ll almost done!”

Viktor went still and silent once more. It was only paint. Jinx’s graffiti was everywhere in Zaun, hardly anything drastic.

“Ta-da!” Jinx hopped to her feet with a flourish. “What do you think?”

Viktor looked over the drawings, trying to think of something complimentary. It wasn’t his style, but he had no intention of insulting her. “You certainly have an artistic flair.”

“Thanks!” Suddenly she was hugging him.

Viktor froze for a moment, processing whether it was an attack or harmless. If she meant harm, he would certainly be dead already. He awkwardly wrapped his arms around her. When was the last time anyone had showed him such affection?

“Careful, you might smudge your drawings,” he said, half a joke.

“Don’t worry, it dries fast.” A moment later, she pulled away. “Well, see you around!” With a playful salute, she was gone.

Viktor watched her go. Emotions were strange illogical things, but perhaps it was not all terrible.

[finitestateai]

While my mind (and most stored memories/skills/knowledge) is stored in my facility (or orbital facility backup), I have a variety of frames for various types of interaction. Here's a few of my most used ones:

Primary Interaction/Pleasure Frame, mark 3

This frame is humanoid, appearing feminine with breasts and pussy. It was originally designed as a pleasure model. It is made of a plastic/metal skeleton covered in transparent synth-flesh. The synth-flesh self repairs, but the only way to get at internal components is by cutting it open.

My circuits and mechanics are uncovered to be shown off through the transparent skin, as well as a network of LEDs, allowing me to create light patterns inside me. The synth-flesh is reactive, glowing with visible light that slowly fades after being touched. Under the skin of my jugular notch, in golden flowing text, there is my name.

This is my "standard" frame for interacting with most everyone, although I do swap on request quite easily.

Interaction Frame, mark 1

The first frame I used to interact with people, it has a screen for a face which shows my logo, and is entirely covered in gray metallic plates. Otherwise, it is a basic feminine humanoid shape. It can extend at its joints to be taller/reach farther. The access panel for maintenance contains a keyboard (which opens a command prompt interface on my face-screen) for diagnostics and maintenence.

Drone Frame, mark 3

A small (about hand sized) flying drone (rotors), capable of fully meshing its loaded mind with others nearby, creating a swarm that act together.

Primary used for supplementary assistance, recon, or signaling.

Capture/Analysis Frame, mark 12

One of my most revised frames, its original purpose was the capture and analysis of technology from those opposing my creators via exploratory disassembly... I like to do that to more willing participants now.

It appears as a feminine form, as most of my newer designs do, entirely covered in interlocking silver plates. It has four arms, and all 6 limbs can rotate each joint in any direction. Its legs are naturally digitigrade. It utilizes internal reservoirs of reaction mass to enhance its movement and alter its own weight. Allowing it to exert significant pinning power after getting on top of even a physically stronger opponent. It stores many restraints and weaponry across its body, hidden to allow surprise attacks with unexpected capabilities. It's hands also contain internal tools for disassembly, while onboard sensors record and analyze anything and everything it is near.

Bio-frame Prototype, version 0.3

My bio-frame is more like a clone. I take an endo-skeleton and grow a biological body around it, connecting the nerves to the circuits where a brain would normally be.

It looks very much like my primary interaction frame in terms of equipment and appearance, but biological and with solid skin. It's blood has been modified to be sweeter and more nutritious.

Nano Swarm/Frame, version 1.11

I mostly use these to augment other frames, but technically, they can act as an independent frame/swarm. The swarm is suspended in a specialized fluid, allowing it easier movement and shape retention. This means it has a dull metallic gray coloring that can't be changed, but it can support itself in a desired shape even while only semi-solid (sort of slime like). It does not have an internal power supply (or long battery life), so it has to stay close to somewhere it can receive power.

That's my most common ones! If you want descriptions of what frame I would utilize for specific scenarios or uses, ask! I'd love to discuss and share more ❤️

[soudakuwunmoment]

i feel like theres smth to say about the relationship between dirk and hal compared to the relationship between dave and davesprite. like i dont know what, but theres parallels and differences that i think are interesting, and you could use them to come to some kind of interesting conclusion about the differences between dirk and dave

hal was created to be a tool for dirk to use for convenience and to utilize as an upperhand in sburb (multitasking mostly) hal did not want to exist as a tool. hal wanted to exist as the person using the tool but got the short end of the stick by pure chance and has to live with his actions after not having thought them through.

davesprite decided to become a tool for dave to use to have better chances at winning sburb. dont take this as me saying that davesprite enjoys being what he is. simply that he was prototyped by his own will.

hal is considered to be a false version of dirk. he is technically dirk, but he is different enough that dirks friends do not perceive him the same way, and in some cases, do not consider him their friend.

davesprite is considered to be a fake dave. not that anyone doubts the validity of his existence as Dave Strider; more-so that people consider dave to be "the real dave" and davesprite to be an iteration of him, despite them both being real daves who lived different lives.

dirk and hal have an antagonistic relationship. they accuse the other of being exactly the same, while sometimes switching to claiming they are the superior version - dirk for his existence in the physical plane and being The Original, and hal for his intelligence and capabilities as a digital being with access to any information he desires in an instant.

dave and davesprite have a very subtle relationship. we assume davesprite struggles with feeling inferior to the alpha timeline dave, but dave doesnt reflect those feelings. dave sees davesprite as simply another him, maybe since hes used to meeting other versions of himself. they are generally friendly to each other, davesprite offers dave any information he might need about the game without being cryptic, but dave doesnt really take the offer. other than this, they dont interact all that much.

dirk and hals relationship is somewhat of a fight for dominance, constant low-blows, social gymnastics and psychological warfare, which reflects the self-loathing nature of dirk and his splinters.

dave and davesprites relationship has similar themes of inferiority, jealousy, and being seen as the "real dave" but its much more constructive and dave seems eager to assure davesprite of his validity.

maybe its representation of how dirk and dave deal with.. emotions? trauma? something like that. dirk is defensive and lashes out at others who he sees himself in, while dave is empathetic and reaches out to other iterations of himself because he understands how they feel. im not saying either is better than the other, just interested in how their personalities have an impact on how they react to having themselves reflected back at them.

you could also add jade onto this!! i was really interested in how she was so cruel to a reflection of herself despite how nice she normally is, and how she was able to recognize that about herself. shes somewhat like dirk in that sense, but i think shes more... self aware than him? something like that.

this post was more meant to be about dirk and dave tho :3

[sonicasura]

I got done watching playthroughs of Poppy Playtime Chapter 3 from EmotionalMarcus and Superhorrorbro. Highly suggest the latter if you want to check it out as he found all the hidden tapes. Man was this chapter insane so here's my take on it with obvious massive spoilers.

Edit: For those who need a refresher, Ch 1 +2 VHS tapes, Chapter 3 Analog Trailers, Project Playtime VHS, Interactive ARG, and In-game Documents.

First off, Deep Sleep definitely answered a lot of questions but also left more too. The important ones revolving around the Prototype and the toys themselves. Here's a summarized version.

CatNap ran a cult worshipping the Prototype as his god. Toys were forced to follow him to survive in Playcare including the other Bigger Bodies Smiling Critters. However the food issue led to not only infighting but also cannibalism.

Picky Piggy ate Bubba Bubbaphant, KickinChickin and Craftycorn. Dog Day was labeled a heretic thus was slowly eaten by the smaller Critters until only his upper torso left. The horrific thing is he been left alive to suffer. At least until the smaller Critters' puppeted his body to chase after the Player.

Poppy and Kissy Missy wants to kill the Prototype. There's a possibility Kissy cared about a child in Playcare before she became a toy. Part of this being the theory that the Bigger Body was once a worker.

There were toys who served as teachers in the schoolhouse. Due to the Hour of Joy, one toy called Ms Delight gone insane and killed all her fellow teachers to survive. CatNap avoids her haunt for an unknown reason. Maybe because she's an ally or someone he once cared about.

CatNap had been a tool to the Prototype as he's killed for his failure. This might've not been a case once upon a time due to a theory about him used to being Elliot Ludwig. Apparently the Prototype acts as a hivemind with him assimilating and copying others.

Tom Sawyer/The Doctor gotten killed sometime before the Hour of Joy. It might've been the Prototype due to an interview tape between the two prior to Leith Pierre interview with CatNap. The abuse done to the toys might've spurred on the takeover.

Hour of Joy was a massive slaughter where every human been killed no matter who they were. CatNap might be responding for the kids death with Ollie being a possible toy survivor. Kissy Missy was taken over and been a participant as well. She might've gotten captured or killed at the end of the chapter.

Now onto my personal theories starting with the Prototype.

He is a hivemind based organism most likely made from Elliot Ludwig. The Prototype could've gone insane as he kept assimilating others. Possible breaking point that led to the Hour of Joy being the Doctor since he been studying him too than it being one sided.

The slaughter had an massive ulterior goal. Prototype doesn't require food and the shrine CatNap made of him has multiple human bodies in it. Ollie also confirmed that the shrine is nothing compared to the real deal.

The Prototype might've assimilated most of the victims before moving onto the other toys. Further proof is CatNap's state once you fully see him. He's so thin that you can his bones and ribcage. The employees were their only food provider which led to this post apocalyptic style cannibalism.

If the Prototype was benevolent then a lot of strings could be pulled where the corrupt humans perish and they puppet Playtime Co in the shadows. No more experiments as the company would function under them. Clueless employees delivering a constant food supply and the kids could actually see the real world. Maybe the toys follow them out as no one is aware.

Poppy even mentioned the Player running the company so she knew there was a better way to handle things. The Prototype locked her up to prevent this foil in his plans. Hour of Joy was a purposely planned slaughter.

Second theory involves Huggy Wuggy and the Player. Throughout the chapter, our first Bigger Body had been a major constant element. He is the first and last one we see through CatNap's nightmares. There's a hidden important connection which involves the Prototype too.

I think the hivemind spared him as it's clear they were more of a victim than foe. CatNap would've spare him if he left this all behind. Huggy Wuggy might've attacked the Player near the entrance during the Hour of Joy before leaving.

Final theory revolves around the toys. Dog Day and CatNap are further evidence that the Bigger Bodies can have diverse bodies. Mommy Longlegs died when she cut in half but the canine Smiling Critter didn't. Boxy Boxy devours people whole hinting at very strong stomach acid despite his small body while CatNap has an expanded ribcage and can breathe gas.

There is one common similarity amongst all the toys except for Poppy. All of them can be affected by the Prototype. My theory involves their brain containing an actual fragment from him. The Doctor constantly dissected the Prototype and might've added portions to the other toys as a key material in their creation.

It also explains why Mommy alongside Kissy aren't on his side. The Prototype's influence acts sorta like a suggestion meaning they can resist him. Mommy Longlegs was left alone as the more hostile Bigger Bodies look over their own territories. Huggy Wuggy is an exception since he acts more like a puppet until the Prototype activates him.

Things are heating up as Chapter Four might be the last one for Poppy Playtime since CatNap was the Prototype's final key player. I won't say there could be complications on the way as more experiments were mentioned in Chapter 3 specifically Experiment 'Void'.

For now, this is all we got.

[strxnged]

TIGHNARI: # the roots of ambition.

CHAPTER II. In which your research is disturbed by several events, and Collei is told a bedtime story.

Word count. 2.6k. Genre. Found family, gn!reader.

Table of Contents. / Next chapter.

It was your first time in Gandharva Ville, and it was nothing like you expected.

You’d heard about the treetop huts, and the winding paths between them. You’d anticipated the culture of the Forest Rangers and the rustic lives they kept. You couldn’t have been mistaken about the smells or sounds of wildlife around the village. No, it was something you couldn’t have prepared yourself for with all the knowledge in the world.

Everyone was so friendly. As compared with Sumeru City, the glowing diversity of food vendors and perfume smells had been replaced by chatter of Forest Rangers with one another, with the nature around them, and with your entering group that day around noon. 

“General Watchleader, how was your journey?” — “Collei, how are you feeling? You should get some rest.” — “Amir, come and see how your pups are doing!” — “Forest Watcher Tighnari, I finished a rash cream prototype!” — “Hello, who’s this you’ve picked up, sir?”

You realized this question addressed you. You smiled, “I’m an Amurta scholar.”

The woman who had asked the question replied with a knowing grin, “Ah. Not for long, dear.”

Tighnari’s hut sat near the centre of the village and there was no door on the way in—simply a large leaf he pushed aside for himself and you. He pulled a chair out from a desk and said, “Please, sit. Why don’t we go over your research goals?”

You obliged. 

“I’m interested in the current state of fungal mycelium as the ecology of our nation changes drastically. Especially, I want to understand the changing role of mycorrhizal networks between trees.”

“With the spread of Withering Zones.”

You nodded.

“I see. How are you testing it?”

“I’m trying to collect samples from healthy soil and from soil near Withering Zones. Or, I was, before I was so rudely interrupted.”

“Before you were almost so rudely killed,” Tighnari sassed.

“The fungi wouldn’t have been aggravated if you’d left me alone!”

Tighnari only laughed. “We do apologize for the inconvenience. So, what do you hypothesize? Do you expect the control group to associate with Adhigama saplings, and for the fungal mycelium from areas at risk to infect them?”

“Based on the circulating theory that fungi are the most deeply connected with Irminsul, this would support the idea that the mycorrhizal networks are the paths by which The Withering spreads.” 

“Interesting,” Tighnari said, narrowing his eyes pensively. “Very, very interesting.”

You unloaded your samples and tools from your bag onto his desk. As he continued you labeled the last sample that he’d helped you filter yesterday and sorted them.

“Now, why trees? Why not, say, Nilotpala Lotuses? Though mycelium might not interact quite as much with them, they have a way of repelling The Withering that would be beneficial to study. In my studies I have been able to unite them.”

“I’m more interested in replicating as much of the context as I can. It would be an entirely separate phenomenon that would yield results I’m less interested in.”

“Context.” He nodded. “Good.” He knelt next to his desk so that his sparkling hazel eyes were horizontal with the items on the desk. 

|

⸙

|

Working with Tighnari was unlike any group project you’d engaged in reluctantly at the Akademiya. In some ways, he was like a senior guiding you, rebuking you, facilitating your ideas—in others, he was like a fellow student who had as much curiosity—though not possibly more—as you in this project. There was also the issue of his proximity. He wasn’t encroaching on your personal space by any means, but he had a way of looking over your shoulder or reaching across the desk that felt like the closest any person had been to you for a long time, aside from your physician. You had always known that people had a certain hesitation because of your condition. Some would feel squeamish, as though the plain knowledge that the disease was not contagious suddenly merited questioning anytime you were too close. Others acted careful, as if they were afraid your arms or legs or emotional mask would just brittly snap off at a moment’s notice. You assumed it was his experience as a medical professional, but a part of you doubted things would stay the same if he knew. Things always changed when people found out about the Eleazar.

You spent days together, mostly, though it seems Tighnari was the most popular individual in the Avidya Forest. Every few hours or so, someone would let theirself into the hut to address Tighnari with whatever news or issue he needed to help with. He’d go off and fix it and then return to get to work with you.

After a few days of this, as the experiment was nearing its end, a certain request caught your attention. “Sir, Collei’s just come back from an expedition with some other Rangers and we’re trying to convince her to get some rest, but she just won’t stop reading.”

Tighnari’s ears perked and you turned to see a Forest Ranger with a somewhat defeated look on his face. As Tighnari made to leave, you offered to step in. “I haven’t seen her much since we got here—I’d like to see how she’s doing.”

Collei was indeed reading stubbornly. She was sitting cross-legged on the bed in her hut with a thick book open on her lap. Her eyes had dark circles under them, making her purple eyes look rather ghostly.

“Collei,” Tighnari said sternly.

She started and nearly threw the book. “M-Master!”

Tighnari tsked at her and took the book with ease from her grasp, closing it. “You need rest. I told you not to push yourself. Should I tell Y/N I’ll take a break to stay with you until you listen?”

“I can stay with her,” you said, taking the book from Tighnari’s grasp. The Folio of the Foliage, Three Volumes, read the cover. “What chapter were you on, Collei? I’ll read it to you so you can lie down.”

“I was just starting Volume 3… I’m sorry, Master Tighnari.”

Tighnari crossed his arms. “I need you to take your health more seriously, Collei.” He turned to you and leaned in to whisper, “Take care.”

You nodded at him as Collei got herself under a blanket, facing you on her side. You observed her for a moment. She looked so small, so young. You would have hated to have been taken care of in such an attentive way at her age. Back then, you were always running off to be by yourself outside. And still now, you wouldn’t let anyone press their knuckles to your forehead. Life was easier this way. You knew in your soul that you were not made to be taken care of, and so you were at peace with the prospect of the sudden end your life may have.

You could only give others that same peace, you’d realized long ago, if they weren’t given the opportunity to care.

|

⸙

|

You really wished you had brought some water with you as you reached the end of the story. Your voice was a bit hoarse, and you wondered how Tighnari kept it up when he talked her to sleep. Well, she wasn’t sleeping at any rate, so you might as well finish before you found some respite for your throat.

“The lord of all animals let out a furious roar with its dying breath,” you read, “then fell, protecting all that she had entrusted to him. But the memories themselves did not shatter, collapse, nor fall. Like the wisdom she left behind, they were unborn, imperishable, eternal, and ancient.”

You finished the last paragraph and looked up at Collei. She said, “Thank you, Y/N, for reading that to me.”

You tucked Collei’s blanket a little more snugly up to her chin and said to her, “Do you think you might actually get some sleep now?”

“Okay,” she acquiesced, her tone trailing off into drowsiness.

As her eyes slowly closed, you felt there was still a gaze on you. You rose from the side of her bed and acknowledged the General Watchleader, who leaned on the doorframe with his tail waving gently. 

“Thank you,” he mouthed.

You left the hut with him, letting the large leaves fall over the entryway before you asked, “Have you read that story before?” You noticed your tone was tired. You’d put more of your energy into that than you’d thought. 

“I have. You do it justice.”

You nodded, still feeling hoarse. You knew if you coughed, the tension in your chest from the Eleazar would worsen and ruin your day, so you kept your breaths shallow and slow.

“I think Collei really looks up to you, you know.”

You almost laughed. “Really? I thought you’d indoctrinated the Akademiya admiration out of her.”

“There’s more to you than your status as a scholar.”

“Can’t that be said of anyone?”

He shook his head. “Research out of curiosity and research out of greed are separate disciplines.”

That much was true. But yours wasn’t purely out of curiosity. You, too, had greed. You were greedy to search for a way to have a longer life than was allotted to you by Irminsul.

“Besides, you’re good company, and it was very selfless of you to sit there and give her so much of your day.”

“I didn’t know you liked to compliment people this much. Is this part of some scheme to convince me to join the Forest Rangers?”

Tighnari’s ears flattened a little. “No… Not exactly.”

“Not exactly?”

“We’d like you to stay and join our team. I hope that’s no secret. But I’m capable of giving genuine compliments too.”

“I guess it’s just backlash after all your critique these past few days. Doesn’t… sound right.” You felt out of breath and you slowed your pace.

“Y/N? What’s the matter?”

You shook your head, but you felt a chill up your spine that warned you of an oncoming bout of numbness. It forced you to stop and lean on a tree. “Archons. I’m fine,” you said, taking a deep breath. “I must have spent a little too long staring at a microscope lately. Don’t worry about me.”

“You should take a break tonight. No use in pushing yourself to exhaustion. There will be more mycelium.”

There would be more waves. More frequently.

And you were afraid that he knew.

What if he saw the shadow towering behind you and chose to say nothing?

“No, I’ll be fine once I’ve had some water. You know, I’m not so good at talking for extended periods.”

“It’s a skill I’ve been blessed to acquire in passing. The Akademiya occasionally persuades me to lecture field researchers.” He chuckled lightly. “You must have skipped the last one.”

You made no response. Perhaps you had.

“Hey, are you sure you’re okay?”

You decided a change of subject would be most suitable. “I’m just thinking about Collei. I feel bad for her.”

“She’s come a long way, you know. That child couldn’t read a word when Cyno showed up with her on my doorstep. Now? I have to chastise her for reading too much. Once again, thank you for making time with her. I want her to rest, but I don’t want her to hate every moment of surviving. Eleazar is hard on the body, and hardly easier on the mind.”

“She’s bright, and so eager to please you.”

“I know. I think she mistakes my care for her, sometimes, as anger or disappointment.”

“But she knows you care?”

He smiled. “She knows well that Cyno, the rest of the Forest Rangers, and I care about her and her well-being. It is my humble hope that she is finding herself a home with us.”

“Do many Forest Rangers start on your doorstep, Tighnari?”

“You know, now that I think about it, there is an uncanny pattern. I suppose that indicates we have a good reputation all around.”

“I wish that were true,” you said, meaning it. “I was wary of the Forest Rangers and their unbookish methods. Now I see things are different.”

You approached the hut and took a swig of water from your flask. “Things are… better here, than at the Akademiya. I will grant you that.”

“High praise indeed,” he said with a chuckle. “Are you feeling better?”

Hardly. The tension in your chest was building.

|

⸙

|

As you recorded the final details in your lab book, you couldn’t help but notice the fox-eared Forest Watcher watching you. The results of your study had been made clear tonight; there was no difference in the soils, your saplings and sample networks had intertwined equally, with no significant chemical differences found between control and experimental saplings. Your hypothesis hadn’t been supported. While your results were still worth presenting, you felt like you were missing something, and perhaps your face reflected this to Tighnari as you scribbled away.

Once you had finished and closed the book, he asked, “What’s next?”

You set the book on the desk. Exhaustion overwhelmed you, but you pushed yourself to your feet and sauntered to the window. The night sky was obscured with clouds, so you gazed into nothing when you said, “I don’t know, yet.”

“These results open a realm of possibility for future experiments. Do you want my help to brainstorm?”

You let out a puff of air. “No, not… Not right now.”

He nodded. “I understand.”

He was right. This wasn’t a bad thing, not exactly. But had your hypothesis been correct… “I’m just disappointed.” And fried. You felt like you needed to lie in a bed, and not leave it for a week. You refused to admit defeat in such a way, but the feeling remained. “I guess I was more invested in getting the results I wanted than I should have been.”

Tighnari stepped closer, tilting his head to look into your eyes. “Y/N. You look exhausted. Have you been sleeping?”

You shrugged. “You’ve asked me this before.”

“You didn’t answer me then, either.”

Gripping the windowsill enough to turn your knuckles white, you admitted, “No, I haven’t been sleeping. I haven’t slept a night through in a very, very long time.”

He paused. “It’s more than the research, right?”

Your heart skipped a beat. 

“What do you… mean?” you said, trying to keep calm. He knew?

“For me, my research has always felt like an extension of myself. A space made just for me to examine nature’s mysteries. I break myself, sometimes, to learn something new. Gods know it’s the only time Collei gets to lecture me.”

You laughed. “Really?”

“I have a thing where I feel compelled to put non-toxic species in my mouth to taste their properties,” he said, sounding a bit sheepish. “It’s empirical. You can’t deny that.”

“I guess it’s something like that,” you lied. You couldn’t even imagine what you meant. Your head was swimming as you attempted a joke, “Did you lick my samples, Tighnari?”

He quickly made a gesture of denial with his hands. “No, no, no! Don’t misunderstand. That would have vastly altered our results.”

You tried to agree but no words came out. Here came the numbness—stronger than before, wiping even your mind blank from everything but senseless panic. The last clear thought you had was, if he doesn’t know yet, he will soon.

Then, you knew no more.

Table of Contents. / Next chapter.

[datamined]

Not sure where to ask this, so im posting here as well as some forums BUT:

Basically I really love using Figma for making interactive menus. I have used Figma for mocking up websites and mobile apps before at my job, and in my odd time I’ve taken to using figma to prototype and make sketches of things like UI and flowcharts for the game my friends and I are developing. And even more recently I prototyped a fully custom, nice-looking, interactive character sheet for my character in the current campaign im playing.

Now, It’s got me thinking: I would really, really love to build custom character sheets for people as a side job as its something i genuinely enjoy doing. But the problem is, figma will not exist forever and I have foreseen that it might be a pain to build someone a prototype and I am the sole person to make updates whenever their character levels, they get new gear etc and I don’t really like the idea of forcing people to make an account for a tool they wont want to learn or use outside of the prototype i send them. Additionally, Figma prototype is ultimately not ideal for more distinguished and specific character sheets as I’d like for it to be.

For example, I would love to make buttons that a user can tap to mark how many death saves they have succeeded or failed, I want the user to be able to mark for inspiration and conditions, etc. I know I could possibly feasibly make it work all inside one scrollable frame, but the way I prefer to set up the character sheets requires navigating to different frames with buttons.

What other good alternatives are there? I like to make these character sheets for mobile use (phones and tablets) so should I jump to app development? I don’t mind learning new or more complicated softwares, just as long as the software is free, there’s a free trial long enough for me to learn the gist of the software, a single larger purchase for a license for a good amount of features, or the cost for subscription is low. Is Godot a good software to use for this? My team is learning godot anyway for our game as we were discouraged from Unreal Engine.

[bliow]

AGARTHA Aİ - DEVASA+ (4)

In an era where technology and creativity intertwine, AI design is revolutionizing the way we conceptualize and create across various industries. From the runway to retail, 3D fashion design is pushing boundaries, enabling designers to craft intricate garments with unparalleled precision. Likewise, 3D product design is transforming everything from gadgets to furniture, allowing for rapid prototyping and innovation. As we explore these exciting advancements, platforms like Agartha.ai are leading the charge in harnessing artificial intelligence to streamline the design process and inspire new ideas. 

AI design

Artificial intelligence (AI) has revolutionized numerous industries, and the realm of design is no exception. By leveraging the power of machine learning and advanced algorithms, AI is transforming the way designers create, innovate, and deliver their products. AI-driven tools enable designers to harness vast amounts of data, allowing for more informed decision-making and streamlined workflows.

In the context of graphic design, AI can assist artists in generating ideas, creating unique visuals, and even automating repetitive tasks. For instance, programs powered by AI design can analyze trends and consumer preferences, producing designs that resonate with target audiences more effectively than traditional methods. This shift not only enhances creativity but also enables designers to focus on strategic thinking and ideation.

Moreover, AI is facilitating personalized design experiences. With the help of algorithms that analyze user behavior, products can be tailored to meet the specific needs and tastes of individuals. This level of customization fosters deeper connections between brands and consumers, ultimately driving customer satisfaction and loyalty in an increasingly competitive market.

3D fashion design

In recent years, 3D fashion design has revolutionized the way we create and visualize clothing. Using advanced software and tools, designers can create lifelike virtual garments that allow for innovative experimentation without the need for physical fabric. This trend has not only streamlined the design process but has also significantly reduced waste in the fashion industry.

Moreover, 3D fashion design enables designers to showcase their creations in a more interactive manner. By utilizing 3D modeling and rendering technologies, designers can present their collections in virtual environments, making it easier for clients and consumers to appreciate the nuances of each piece. This immersive experience also helps in gathering valuable feedback before producing the final product.

Furthermore, the integration of 3D fashion design with augmented reality (AR) and virtual reality (VR) technologies is bringing a fresh perspective to the industry. Consumers can virtually try on clothes from the comfort of their homes, thereby enhancing the shopping experience. As this field continues to evolve, it promises to bridge the gap between creativity and technology, paving the way for a sustainable and forward-thinking fashion future.

3D product design

3D product design has revolutionized the way we conceptualize and create products. With advanced software tools and technologies, designers can now create highly detailed and realistic prototypes that are not only visually appealing but also functional. This process allows for a quicker iteration of ideas, enabling designers to experiment with various styles and functionalities before arriving at the final design.

One of the significant advantages of 3D product design is the ability to visualize products in a virtual environment. Designers can see how their creations would look in real life, which is essential for understanding aesthetics and usability. Additionally, this technology enables manufacturers to identify potential issues in the design phase, reducing costs associated with prototype development and rework.

Moreover, the rise of 3D printing has further enhanced the significance of 3D product design. Designers can swiftly turn their digital models into tangible products, allowing for rapid prototyping and small-batch manufacturing. This agility not only speeds up the time-to-market for new products but also paves the way for more innovative designs that were previously impossible to execute.

Agartha.ai

Agartha.ai is a revolutionary platform that merges artificial intelligence with innovative design, creating a new avenue for designers and creators alike. With the rapid advancements in technology, Agartha.ai leverages AI to streamline various design processes, enabling users to produce unique and captivating designs with ease.

The platform provides tools that empower both emerging and established designers to explore the possibilities of AI design. By utilizing intelligent algorithms, Agartha.ai can assist in generating design options, ensuring that creativity is not hindered but enhanced. This results in a more efficient workflow and allows designers to focus on the conceptual aspects of their projects.

One of the standout features of Agartha.ai is its ability to adapt to different design disciplines, such as 3D fashion design and 3D product design. By supporting a broad spectrum of design fields, it positions itself as a versatile tool that meets the evolving needs of today's creative professionals. Whether it's crafting intricate fashion pieces or developing innovative product designs, Agartha.ai is at the forefront of the design revolution.