We're thrilled to announce that we've wrapped principal development work on Slay the Princess — The Pristine Cut. We'll be releasing it this Fall (date TBD) so we can simultaneous ship the update with both the game's console release (surprise!) as well as official subtitling support for 11 new languages, all with the help of our wonderful new partners at Serenity Forge (who you might know from their publishing work on Doki Doki Literature Club Plus!)
There's a lot for us to share about The Pristine Cut, but before we get into the details, please check out our new trailer!
Here's what we've got coming for you:
Content
For those of you who are just now hearing about The Pristine Cut, it's an entirely free director's cut of the game that adds about 35% more content on top of the initial release.
This includes massive expansions to The Den, The Apotheosis, and The Fury routes, each of which is over three times bigger than their release versions, with tons of variations to discover across multiple playthroughs.
On top of this, we're adding three brand new chapter three routes that will add even more depth to your stories with The Damsel, The Prisoner, and The Spectre.
And we're adding a new ending.
All in all, these additions come to over 2,500 new voice lines, over 1,200 new hand-drawn illustrations, and over 15 new tracks of music.
We're also adding an extensive CG gallery with over 400 unlocks to help all you completionists track your progress, complete with cryptic hints to help you discover some of the game's more obscure and buried interactions.
Languages
And all of this is coming with a giant wave of localization support, covering the following languages: Simplified and Traditional Chinese, Korean, Japanese, French, German, Russian, Spanish (Latin American), Brazilian Portuguese, Italian, and Polish. These localizations are just going to cover subtitles, so we can be as thorough as possible about maintaining the quality of Jonny and Nichole's performances.
Consoles, Physical Release and New Merch
With the help of Serenity Forge, we’re bringing Slay the Princess — The Pristine Cut to every major current console — Nintendo Switch, PS4 + 5, and Xbox.
And these won’t just be available as digital downloads. You’ll also be able to pick up a physical edition for the Switch and PS5, with an exclusive sticker sheet and a download code for the game’s soundtrack.
And if that’s not enough we’re also doing a Collector’s Edition, complete with a 7 inch statue of the Princess, a mirror with a lenticular lens, an acrylic standee, and more.
And finally (for now), we’re launching the first wave of new line of sticker sheets, featuring chibi art of the Princesses as seen in The Pristine Cut’s new gallery. Pre-order them now at Topatoco!
Alongside these developments, we've also launched a new website for the game: check out slaytheprincess.com where you can order the physical editions, check out merch, and more!
Thank you so much for your patience while we've worked to make The Pristine Cut the definitive version of Slay the Princess. We can't wait to share all of the game's new stories with you this Fall.
Until then, we're back to working full-time on the next Episode of Scarlet Hollow (and have been for about a few weeks now!)
Best,
Abby and Tony
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Trailer park Steve AU part 23
part 1 | part 22 | ao3
cw: alcohol, recreational drinking
Steve fusses with his hair in the side mirror again, tugging awkwardly at his borrowed clothes. He feels stupid, standing here fidgeting in the parking lot like some kind of nervous freshman, but half of Hawkins seems to be here tonight and Robin’s got him dressed like a loser — worn green flannel and a ripped black tee with a faded picture of The Smiths. Jesus. “Did you really have to dress me like this?”
“What? You look cute!”
“I look like I raided Jonathan Byers’ closet.”
“No, you look like someone a certain neighbor is going to be drooling over all night.” Steve’s grateful for the dark then; for the blush it hides on his cheeks. “It’s not my fault you don't know how to make a deal; if you wanted to borrow a specific shirt, you should have said so before we shook on it.”
“Besides,” she ignores him when he rolls his eyes at her, “you wouldn’t even let me smudge eyeliner on your lower lash line like I wanted to, so I really don't feel like you’ve earned complaining privileges.”
“I’ll complain if I fucking want to,” he grumbles under his breath. He runs a hand through his hair one more time, then forces himself to look away from the mirror. Rolls his shoulders back and down. “He’s not even here, anyway.”
“Ah-ha! So you did check.” She links their arms together, starts dragging Steve across the uneven gravel, her ankles wobbling in her low-heeled boots. “‘Just looking for a good parking spot,’ my ass. God, I’m always so right about everything. I'm, like, cosmically correct. I should really play the lottery next time I visit my grandparents..."
“Uh huh.” He’s not sure what luck and correctness have to do with each other, but sure.
She stumbles over a rock; pushes into his side, grinning, “I’m serious! I’ll play the lottery, and I’ll win big, and then you’ll see. Might even split my winnings with you if you’re nice to me.”
“I’m literally so nice to you all the time, but okay. Can’t wait to take half your earnings when you get ten bucks off a scratcher.”
“Hey, five bucks is five bucks! That’s like an hour and a half of our lives.”
Jesus Christ. “That’s just depressing.”
They walk arm and arm down the narrow footpath to the party — ferns brushing their calves, dry dirt beneath their shoes kicking up tiny clouds of dust — and as the path opens up Steve sees the place is packed. More packed than the overstuffed parking lot let on. There are people scattered over the picnic grounds in groups of fours and fives, a full dance floor under the main pavilion; a DJ set up at the front with food and drink stands to the side; a giant bowl of spiked punch; a tower of solo cups; a couple of coolers filled with beer.
In the surrounding grass he sees more tables, more people. A couple of guys he remembers from swim team rally around an arm wrestling match; another group plays beer pong on a brown fold-up table that they definitely stole from someone’s church. There's a circle of burnouts playing hacky sack behind a tree.
The bonfire burns brightly on the hillside in the distance, and beyond that he spots the faint glow of trail lights leading up to a bridge under the falls.
Part of him wants to follow the trail. Shake Robin off, pretend like he’s going to take a leak. Find a nice rocky overhang to camp under for a while.
Listen to river sounds. Gentle slosh; cricket buzz.
Maybe he gets drunk up there alone. Maybe he just enjoys the solitude; lies on a rock on his belly by the icy river’s edge, swirls his hand in frigid water and doesn't dream of dark brown curls.
“Steve?” Robin nudges him. “You good?”
Another, much less annoying part of him reminds him that he’s Steve Goddamn Harrington. He knows how to have a good time at a party.
Who cares if he feels too old to be here, or if it’s weird to see so many faces that used to call him Captain or King? Who cares that he's one smudge of eyeliner away from looking like a full-blown new wave art freak?
He’s not about to slink off to do depressed weirdo wallflower shit when the DJ’s playing Wham!
“Yeah.” He squeezes her shoulder. “You want a drink?”
“Yes, please.”
—
The drinks are strong.
Steve’s pretty sure the punch bowl is a lot more hunch than punch, but there’s still no sign of Vickie, and Robin’s getting that sad little stress wrinkle between her brows about it, so Steve says bottoms up and starts chugging.
They wince their way through two cups each. Robin plugs her nose on the second one like she’s about to do a high dive, and Steve laughs and takes her hand, leading her into the crowd just as Take on Me comes on. The lights all blur together as they shimmy and shake and twirl, moving like a couple of dorks, but Steve’s having a great time. Bobbing his head to the beat; a big, dumb grin on his face as he moves his hips. Robin shouts “Watch this!” over the music, and the next thing he knows they’re competing to see who can bust the worst dance move.
He brings out all the big guns, the full-groan dad maneuvers.
The sprinkler, the lawn mower, the fucking disco finger.
Robin answers with a sloppy attempt at the robot, so he makes up a new move he calls be kind, rewind, and she laughs like a horse and pretends to walk down a flight of stairs.
She’s crouched into a goofy lunge, two steps into the ascent back up, when the song fades out and a ballad takes over. The crowd presses in to slow dance; Robin steps on someone's toes.
“Hey, watch it!” the person hisses.
Robin startles hard; knocks herself off-balance when she tries to stand up straight, babbling, "Oh, my god, I'm so sorry! Are you- are you okay? I'm such a klutz, oh, my god, I'm—"
Steve snatches her up under the armpits; puts her back on her feet. Then he looks up and realizes who exactly she just stepped on.
Well, shit.
—
part 24
tag list part 1 below the cut, let me know if you want me to add you tomorrow (21+ only, please confirm your age if you're asking to be tagged)
@a-little-unsteddie @ahsokatanoss @aliea82 @alyelf @anne-bennett-cosplayer @aol19 @awolfstudio @bambibiest @bananahoneycomb @bookbinderbitch @bronwenmarie @cheonsazu @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @courtjestermunson @cuips-not-cute @dauntlessdiva @dawners @dontwasteyourchances @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @eriquin @estrellami-1 @fandomfix8 @gregre369 @griefabyss69 @grtwdsmwhr @hallucinatedjosten @hellion-child @hiimlevi @honoragreyskull @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @kas-eddie-munson @kingelyx @lifeisacrisis @littlebluejane @marvel-ous-m @melonmochi @messrs-weasley @milklechee @mrsjellymunson @mugloversonly @munsonslure @nburkhardt @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notsopersonalcharlie @novelnovella @nuggies4life @phoenixtheone @questionablequeeries @runninriot
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