#joystick system posts

[joyce-stick]

An Essay About Slash Review of The Coffin of Andy and Leyley, A Video Game Which is Very Good

(and also: has prompted many quite wrong rather bad takes)

An essay by Audrey of the joystick system

The very bad discourse and drama around The Coffin of Andy and Leyley has served to obscure the simple fact that it is quite a very good video game and this video essay is here to tell you about that.

Video version:

Previous video essay: Lost Judgment's Lost Plot

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Transcript:

Hi everyone. So. The Coffin of Andy and Leyley is really, really fucking good.

If you’ve heard of this game, you’ve probably heard of it in the context of memes, screenshots divorced from context, and/or capricious moral outrage. If you’ve not heard of this game, well, you’re hearing of it now! And good thing, too, because much of the coverage and discussion around this game that already exists has… been, let’s just say, not particularly earnest. I hope to remedy that at least somewhat with this video.

If you’ve heard about this game because of discourse, and come here expecting drama and hot takes, then, this may not be your video. Or your YouTube channel, even. Or maybe it is, if you’d like the delicious comments section. If you’re that sort of clicker, though— welcome! I’m Audrey of the joystick system, and this is the place where I (and my headmates) talk honestly about things we care about, and I hope you’ll hear me out a little and maybe consider staying and improving our viewer retention. Thanks, if you do.

So, to writ: My purpose today is to gush. I will be gushing here. For most of it. And as for what I will be gushing about, some of it will be gushing BLOOD, GUTS, AND DELICIOUS DEATH. I am entirely serious. The subject of today’s presentation contains mature content, including copious foul language and themes slash depictions of death, cannibalism, cultism, demon summoning rituals, parricide, dystopian social decay, and heterosexuality. Oh, and also a little bit of incest as a treat, I guess, but the incest is heterosexual, and that’s worse.

[long pause]

Excellent. You’re still here. So. This morbidly beautiful video game may not be for everyone, but that’s good, because it is instead for exactly me! A short plot synopsis of The Coffin of Andy and Leyley might go as follows:

if you're not watching the video listen to this for extra effect

Siblings Andrew and Ashley Graves are forcibly quarantined inside their apartment by the local authorities, with no food and even less hope for rescue. Their parents have abandoned them. Absolutely no one is coming to save them. In order to survive and escape this awful situation, they butcher and consume the fresh flesh of some guy who got himself soul vored by a demon that he summoned without a plan.

This conspicuously carnivorous crime, and their effort to cover their tracks, puts them in a fair bit of a deeper shithole than they are already in. So naturally they keep digging themselves deeper by committing even more crimes, AND in the process, also dig themselves deeper into their toxic codependent sibling relationship, which is going just great, thank you. Sure, Andrew almost killed his sister, but he didn’t, and that’s what matters! And she still loves him, so it’s all good!

This is of course a joke.

First thing I absolutely love about this game is the writing. It’s witty, intelligent, uncompromising, and just generally delicious. It holds nothing back in depicting the toxicity of the two leads and their relationship, resulting in two compelling characters whose flaws and few virtues perfectly complement slash exacerbate one another, resulting in a beautiful train wreck of a relationship dynamic that proves equal parts disturbing, mesmerizing, and hilarious.

The charming darkly comedic bite of the writing style also lends a lot of great character to the setting. This sardonically presented dystopian world is both richly detailed and fleetingly elaborated on, a commendable balance to have achieved, in my opinion. The first chapter of this game is hilarious not just because of the banter between Ashley and Andrew (which is terrific), but because it presents such a sharp satire of current year bullshit.

As just an example, I give you, one of my favorite jokes in the game:

I probably don’t need to explain the thing this is making fun of to you, but I will anyway.

The situation presented in The Coffin of Andy and Leyley’s first episode is very easily readable as an allegory for how disasters that are a direct result of ongoing 2020s late capitalist decay continuously fuck people over. In particular, this scenario feels like a direct commentary on both the COVID-19 pandemic as well as the Flint, Michigan water crisis. The former obviously has affected way more people but what both have in common is that they are crises created and exacerbated by malfeasance and/or negligence committed in the name of for-profit interests, and that the “response,” to them, such as there was one, has amounted to dehumanizing and marginalizing the victims while minimizing the issue, forcing the victims out of society’s wider view, and being reticent to punish the individuals responsible. 

Just as the authorities responded to the water crisis and the worst excesses of the pandemic in real life, the authorities in The Coffin of Andy and Leyley impose half-measures designed to further restrict the freedom of the dirty undesirables who bear the worst damages, while merely shielding the upper echelons of society from the disaster rather than actually addressing or attempting to solve the issue. Most of you who lived through 2020 in the United States probably have experienced the frustration of being on the receiving end of this kind of policy.

During the pandemic, the quarantine was supposed to protect us, but for a lot of people it ended up doing quite the opposite. A lot of folks didn’t have any savings, and couldn’t get any since the employment market wasn’t exactly on fire, and our representatives had to be bothered way too much just to put out a pithy economic stimulus just to save face. Not to say that this all has stopped, exactly, as all that’s changed now is that we’re just, living with this situation, but.

It wasn’t literally a cop outside everyone’s door preventing them from going outside to not die, but for a lot of people, it might as well have been that! Never mind those who, y’know, had no inside to retreat to. Or were imprisoned during the pandemic and left even more unprotected! Or thrown out by their landlords! And so on. And, y’know, the big chain grocery stores keep throwing out all the perfectly good unsold food, so they’re already sending this message in all but, well… these exact words.

So, that’s why I think this joke lands. It’s exaggerated, but familiarly rooted, and that’s just good satire! It’s a joke which feels lifted right out of Invader Zim, which, I would put The Coffin of Andy and Leyley right about on the level of as far as both the tone it’s going for and the quality of its execution. Which of course, brings us to the extremes that these circumstances push its characters, and its plot, to.

Okay, so, also like Invader Zim, The Coffin of Andy and Leyley is hardly a polemic, nor is it a morality tale. Sure, there’s social commentary in it, but that’s just a nice side thing. It’s not a story about the otherwise innocent victims of an unjust society who are pushed to do terrible things by circumstances outside their control— it is, rather a story of terrible people, who, both because of their character failings, and the desperate situations they find themselves in, find themselves doing even worse things.

Andrew and Ashley commit the cannibalism the first time in large part because they kind of have to do it. No food! Cop outside their door actively deterring them from getting food! Out of options! So they do it. They could probably be excused, if only they were given a fair trial. Which they realize they’re not going to get. So yeah. It’s understandable that they do it. And that they kill this one cop, who very much has it coming.

But they do not have to keep doing it! And gosh grief, do they keep fucking doing it— so many its. They really do not stop digging that hole that they are in. Even the first time that they do the cannibalism, when they kind of really have to do the cannibalism, Ashley is just a little bit more excited about doing the cannibalism than she probably should be.

I love this kind of delicious edgy dark humor. I love stories that go for it, imagine the worst possible people they can, and also try to make that funny. I love this about Invader Zim, that it presents a character who is unquestionably a monster, but also has relatable human desires like wanting to fit in and being concerned about looking weird or abnormal, but has those feelings for very different reasons and acts on them by committing some very despicable crimes. It really gets at a deep-seated darkness that I and a lot of other fucked up traumatized queer people who were little kids when this show aired have, the catharsis of visualizing some of our worst intrusive thoughts while evoking the emotions that pushed us to imagine this kind of fucked up shit.

I’ve loved this kind of thing since we saw Heathers when we were 14. Heathers is an absolutely incredible film that you should check out, by the way, and about which we failed to properly or interestingly articulate our thoughts a few years back. Its lead protagonists, Jason “J.D.” Dean and Veronica Sawyer, are similarly relatable characters who have familiar feeling flaws and emotionally resonant trauma hangups, and also function as very toxic enablers of each other’s worst traits, leading them to work through those feelings by, y’know, murdering their classmates!

Heathers made us realize just how exactly mentally ill of a 14 year old we really were when we were 14, and I love it for that. So. So fucking much.

That was ten years and change ago.

We are still a mentally ill 24 year old.

And Andrew and Ashley Graves, if I had to sum them up, are basically J.D. and Veronica, if they were in their twenties, siblings, and also way, way, way worse.

And I love them.

So, obviously. Ashley and Andrew are hilarious. At least, I find them to be such. They’re terrible, and awful, and amazing, and Ashley is such a girlboss. She is one of the most God Forbid Women Do Anything characters ever.

Anyway! I’ve talked about the cannibalism, and the dystopia, and the characters, and why all of that’s good. I’ve also forgotten to talk about the part where they evade an assassin, and, also a host of other things.

I love that this game has so many fun little optional interactions with NPCs, objects, and items, that you can totally miss. I love how the narration hints at the solutions to puzzles by snarkily referring to things you can interact with as what their purpose is to the characters rather than what they are, this quip about the mop that you clean up a murder scene with, the interactions that Andrew has with these cultists who suck at demon summoning, the excellent in-game art and the brilliant visual duality of Andrew and Ashley’s character designs, this line where Andrew is upset that life is so hard for them as fugitives from the law because they can only find this one shitty motel that takes cash and doesn’t ask them for their ID, and also the music, which is royalty free music made by people unassociated with the developer but is nonetheless perfectly suited for the game.

So much about this game is stuff I find so completely brilliant, and I have so little to criticize, that I think we’d probably be here all day if I kept going. So.

Let’s spend a thousand ish more words talking about the parents.

When The Coffin of Andy and Leyley begins, the protagonists’ parents are absent. You can optionally find two early references to them early on— one, if you interact with the bed in their bedroom, and encounter the shocking revelation that “Your parents have FUCKED on this bed.”

The second, is if you interact with the phone, the game dutifully informs you that,

You’re probably less than five minutes into the game at this point, barely begun solving the first puzzle, which prompted you to “find nutrients to not die.” And of course, this says about all you need to know. These children have been abandoned. But if it needed to be any clearer, the game later delivers unto you a flashback to prior in the story, when Ashley desperately calls Mrs. Graves for help after they leave and go move to a hotel, and later a new house, to which the kids are of course not invited. And this specific scene, specific line, here, fucking hit me:

“And I don’t want to hear these lies about starving anymore.”

Emphasis mine.

Even as Ashley and Andrew escalate the severity of their crimes which gradually come to have less and less to do with their need to survive as the story goes on, I find it very hard to not be on their side at least a little bit, and this is easily the biggest reason why.

I have had this phone call.

Not this exact specific phone call, of course. Obviously, I’ve never been locked up in an apartment with an armed patrol outside my door whose job it was to gaslight me while ensuring that I starved to death. Obviously, my mom has never said those exact words.

But gosh grief and fuck me if it’s never felt like she has. She may as well have fucking told me that, with all the things she told me I was lying about. And who fucking knows, maybe she did say those exact words to us, and we repressed them. I don’t know. I am very not done working through all the bullshit that she gaslit us over.

*sighs, preparing to vent*

I have called our mother and had to beg her to pay for food. I have called her and had to beg to pay for our rent, while our parents were supposed to be supporting us studying abroad. I have called her and begged her to forgive me for daring to use just a few of the thirty dollars our parents used to send us to live with every month back then, to buy a drink or a movie ticket or something. I have had to concede to our parents financially holding us hostage, had to go the last week of the month on a shoestring diet while waiting for them to graciously deposit another thirty dollars into our bank account... so that we could continue eating. I used to relish February, the shortest month, for being the one part of the year in which I had to stretch out that thirty dollars the least. And once, I pleaded with our mother to pay for us to move to another apartment when the landlord suddenly kicked us out of the current one, abruptly and obligatorily switching gears from arguing with her to kissing her ass through our gritted teeth, under threat of our parents cutting off their financial support of us completely, abandoning us in a foreign country where we had no money, no job, and barely spoke the language.

And one day, after I stopped dancing to their tune, they just stopped listening, stopped even pretending to want to help. After nineteen years of escalating emotional and physical abuse and neglect, they abandoned us. And one day, after I spent months working 10 hour days every week Ubering food around for tips, sending my resume, filling applications, making calls, stopping into places to ask for work, all to no avail, for months, and desperately plugging the Patreon page of this very YouTube channel praying that some generous soul with money to burn would solve all our problems. All of this still wasn’t enough, and wasn’t going anywhere, and I’d run out of money and was short on rent on the one sublet room we could get that cost exactly three hundred dollars…

And I called her, and I asked her for help. I really didn’t want to. I wanted to hear nothing of her again. And she said to stop lying. To stop bullshitting her that I couldn’t get enough money, or find a job.

Not too long after, I swore off all contact with her, and eventually also with our father. And every time I have spoken to either of them since, I have made no secret of how I feel. Because if I get nothing out of kissing their ass, why fucking pretend.

My family is not poor. They own their house. They own, and leased out, a second house. Their house is full of fancy IKEA furniture and various other niceties, they’ve renovated the place at least twice, they live in a nice, safe neighborhood, they have an attic and a basement, they at one point paid for multiple plane tickets for us per year while still refusing to let us eat on any more than thirty five dollars, an extra five dollars we also had to beg them for. Our dad has a lucrative tech job. All of this, and they insisted, while refusing to answer questions about their finances in any detail, that they couldn’t afford to help us go to where we wanted to go for college, that they had no place for us in their house, that they couldn’t afford three hundred dollars of rent to help us have a roof over our head for one more month.

So when I read this delightful jaunt of a chapter of The Coffin of Andy and Leyley, where Andrew and Ashley break into their parents’ new huge house to steal all their shit, and Ashley says “This is some rich people stuff!” about their fireplace,

And when their mom says, “there’s no room to keep housing you here indefinitely,” and the internal monologue says, “even though it’s way bigger than the old house.” It’s both an entertaining mockery of the attitude of the typical American family, how first you’re your parents’ property for eighteen years and then you’re turned out on your own to face the world without their support, and how the fuck are you supposed to live like that, to figure out how to live your life in the face of that, to meaningfully be a fulfilled person in that situation, especially in a time, when, no, mom, I can’t pay a college tuition on a waitress salary like you did back in the fucking nineties, you c--t,

Even though they have an extra bed in their basement and a perfectly good couch and plenty of space for another bed besides, and a vegetable garden, and a kitchen, and all these other middle-class petty bougie niceties, the Graves mom says, “sorry, we can’t keep helping you,” and. And. I read all this, and I think,

“I understand why Ashley wants to fucking flay these people. I understand why she wants to K1!L them.”

I cannot tell you how much catharsis the ending of The Coffin of Andy and Leyley episode 2 gave me. I cannot convey the weight of my gratitude that someone out there validated my anger and my specific fucked up power fantasy with their art. I didn’t even ask them to. I probably would’ve eventually done it on my own. But I’m so glad that someone did it for me.

If I ever hypothetically meet Nemlei, somehow, and have some cash, I will happily buy them a drink. Hopefully, by paying this excellent game’s ten dollar cover price, I already have!

I know you’re not watching this, but on the off chance this reaches your ears, I just wanna say thanks. For giving me a safe, legal, regret-free, socially acceptable, non-violent outlet for the rage I feel towards my parents.

Well.

Mostly socially acceptable.

Meow.

This game is not finished, as you may have noticed if you’ve gone to check it out on Steam. It ends on an ambiguous and open note, but in my opinion, a perfectly satisfying one. Nemlei could disappear absolutely, never release the proper ending of this game, and never make another game again, and I would not be mad. I've already got more than my money’s worth and then some. So. Yeah. I’m happy. Count me as happy!

I kinda wanna start talking a bit more about the branches of the second episode. I wanna say how it’s a brilliant idea to have two separate story arcs for the two variations of this episode’s ending, and how I hope that that’s executed on as beautifully as the rest of the game already is. I wanna talk about the ways in which Andrew and Ashley’s mom is ambiguously humanized despite being so obviously terrible. I wanna talk about the dialogue Andrew does when his parents offer him a chance to make amends, and he has doubts, if you choose to let him have them, and how I would probably also have doubts in his position, and not be able to follow through without my lovely evil cannibal sister pushing me towards… the thing. I wanna talk about this line, where Ashley talks about why she likes eating people, and how it’s so equal parts poetic and macabre and edgy bullshit and that that’s such a beautifully balanced cocktail of emotion to nail and Nemlei totally fucking nails it

I WANT TO GUSH FOREVER. ABOUT THIS GAME. AND I WANT NO ONE TO STOP ME.

Alas, I will stop myself.

And move on to the elephant in the room!

THE FUCKING.

Mom: “But that-.... That doesn’t make any sense.” Mom: “Why would you not-......” Mom: “Ah, I get it.” Andrew: “..........??” Mom: “You fuck her.” Andrew: “Wha— HUUUUH?!?!!?” Mom: “Oh that is disgusting! Andrew, she’s your sister for god’s sake!” Andrew: “I haven’t done anything!? What the hell, mom!?” Mom: “Then what does she give you that makes it worth all this?” Andrew: “W-well that’s none of your business, is it??” Mom: “I knew something was off… How did I fuck up so bad? I’m the worst mother ever..!” Andrew: “No! I mean yes you are, but I have never—!” Ashley: “I’m baaaa-ack!!!” Andrew: “Now of all times!?” Ashley: “I got the money! Did you miss me, handsome?? Did you? Did you??” Mom: “...........................” Andrew: “(I WANT TO DIE!!!!!!)”

Okay. So. I said I didn’t want to talk about this. But I’m talking about this game. I can’t not talk about it.

Yep, it’s hot takes and drama time!

So, not too long ago, Nemlei deleted their Twitter, their Itch.io, their everything, their entire online presence. The Steam page for The Coffin of Andy and Leyley, which used to list Nemlei as the developer and publisher, now lists “Kit9 Studio.” It is the only game to their name on the platform. A community forum post from said entity known as Kit9 announces that “the developer” (no name given) “has decided to permanently and completely terminate their activities online from here on.”

I don’t know exactly what happened, or why they did this. There’s a lot of people around who sure think they know. But in brief, as neutrally as possible: Nemlei, or someone close to them, was doxxed, or at least sought out as a doxxing target, by one or multiple users of an online forum. Their supposed crime? Making a video game “for degenerates.”

I don’t know who did the doxxing. I don’t know what their motive was, and for my own sanity, I am not going to look. I am choosing not to care. The most important and most obvious fact at hand here is that Nemlei’s creation has been met with controversy amongst social media users, and about one or two hack video game outrage journalists, who seem to have nothing better to do or say. And it seems clear that the doxxing wouldn’t have happened had they not been met with this negative attention. And all because of this.

Not the cannibalism, not the parricide, not the demon sacrifices. No, um, the one implied sex scene.

And it doesn’t even actually happen! It’s just a premonition of a possible future event that Ashley and Andrew supernaturally receive. It’s not particularly graphic, it doesn’t yet go anywhere, and it’s a short scene on an optional route that the game actively forewarns you about. You have to be trying to see it on purpose.

Well, that’s all true. It is indeed a minor and avoidable scene, and the discourse about it has absolutely poisoned the well when it comes to the conversation about the game. But also, “uhh, it’s optional and not a big thing,” is inadequate as a defense. This is still content in the game that Nemlei actively chose to put in the game, and even discounting this, the themes of incest are all over the game. Ashley speaks flirtatiously to Andrew at basically every turn. Even if you avoid this specific scene, the incest themes are not something you’re going to just not notice, if you’re paying attention to the text.

All that being said, it’s not like this content comes as a surprise. The Coffin of Andy and Leyley’s Steam store page accurately represents the product! A brother and sister. Codependency and cannibalism. It’s not as if you don’t know what you’re paying for and choosing to play. You came here for this! Most of the people playing this are here for this! You have to figure that if they are fine with killing and eating people, they’re probably fine with fucking each other, or, eventually possibly eventually going to be, at least.

So you’d think, except that many people seem to unironically believe that the cannibalism is more moral than the incest.

Oh, god, I’m doing this right now, aren’t I.

So, I get it. While I’m pretty skeptical of the notion that cannibalism is not as bad as incest, I do realize that incest is, at the very least, the more taboo of these things, and that a lot of people are more uncomfortable with it than they are with the cannibalism and the murder. To quote the one positive and in-depth review available in any media outlet at the time of this writing, from Destructoid:

“This aspect is undoubtedly the most controversial element about The Coffin of Andy and Leyley, and I understand why. While cannibalism is a taboo subject, it’s present in mainstream games like Fallout as an option for players. Having incestuous themes crosses over into Drakengard territory, and even then, no option allows Caim to reciprocate Furiae’s feelings for him.”

"The Coffin of Andy and Leyley is horrifying and I can’t get enough of it" Andrea Gonzalez, Destructoid, November 12 2023

So, yeah, I. y’know. Get it. I know why. However.

I can point to a lot of things that Andrew and Ashley do wrong in this game. They are, as per the game’s premise, very not okay, not as individuals, and not together. Andrew is way too attached to Ashley, and Ashley is generally an awful person who is way too attached herself, and also, all too quick on the draw to take advantage of Andrew’s attachment to her to make him do what she wants. This is not a healthy relationship. And we’re here for it! It’s compelling!

But, I think it’s worth asking why it’s such a toxic dynamic. Is it because they’re siblings? Well, not really. It’s a dynamic that’s specifically possible with them being siblings, but it’s not because of their sibling connection.

The actual reason why Andrew and Ashley’s relationship turns abusive isn’t because their relationship is abusive by necessity or nature, but because Ashley abuses their relationship. And she is doing this for basically the whole game. Like, it is abusive the whole time. It doesn’t become abusive when their relationship takes its romantic turn. Does it become more abusive? I mean. Maybe. Maybe the romance exacerbates the abuse. I dunno, we’ll have to wait and see what the next episode says.

So, then, why is the notion of them possibly in the future having sex the elephant in the room here, when before that, they do so many objectively worse things that cause much more harm both to themselves and others? Is that really so much more of a bigger deal than the murder and the people eating?

Or. To phrase it Ashley’s way. You played a game about mutilating and eating your parents’ corpses, and getting laid is what you’re freaking out about?

Is the incest really that much more extreme, or are you just more disgusted with it?

And even if you are more disgusted with it. Even if we grant that it is, actually, somehow, more harmful for siblings to have sex with each other, than to do murder and cannibalism. Is this the hill you’re dying on? What you’ve decided is of such utmost importance and injustice that you decide to go harass some random indie dev who just wants to make a silly video game about a couple of siblings eating people?

Does it truly make sense to let your kneejerk moral disgust guide you to the conclusion that the creator of this game deserves to be persecuted for merely writing about and drawing a thing you don’t like?

Well, to answer that, we have to get into the question of whether or not “immoral fiction” is harmful, or “normalizing” things that are wrong. Does fictionally depicting an immoral action actually cause harm?

I could dance around in circles for a little while about the edge cases, and certain writers who are publishing bad or hateful material in bad faith, or fascist propaganda, which is of course always bad, or whatever other example I could use to qualify my point or list out an exception to appease the people who disagree with me, but, I’ll just cut right to the chase, and tell you the answer

No!

The answer is NO!

The thing about taboos is that they don’t make us more safe. They don’t protect us from bad things. All they do is protect people’s comfort by silencing people they don’t want to understand, and enable bad actors by keeping their victims in the dark, and denying them the ability to talk about it.

The only thing we end up doing by censoring stories about these uncomfortable topics, and making it socially unacceptable to talk about them, is make it harder to know. We deny ourselves knowledge. We deny ourselves a conversation about these subjects, we deny ourselves the ability to meaningfully understand them. We deny ourselves power, what little we have, as readers, to understand, and to critique, to reason.

There’s a tumblr post I really like. Well, a number of them, I really like, on this topic, but I’m picking this one, because it’s got a quote I really like. It talks about Lolita. That Lolita. And, now, I’ve never read Lolita, at least not yet. Lolita is a novel about child sexual abuse, told from the perspective of an abuser. It’s an uncomfortable book with an uncomfortable topic, and it’s not wrong to be uncomfortable with it. The author of this post acknowledges that.

But they talk about it. They talk about how it shines a light on its subject matter. The why and the how of abusers and their actions. The ways in which their victims suffer. How it shows all of this in a way that it only could from the perspective it takes. And, I’m just going to quote them. I can’t do anything else. They said it better than I could, right now.

“Embrace disgusting fiction and then fucking talk about why it’s nasty. Now YOU have the power over reality.” - tumblr user legsdemandias

The Coffin of Andy and Leyley has been ridiculed, joked about, hot taked on, made a target, drama-ed over, and so on, but it’s hardly been criticized. No one I’ve seen admitting to not liking it talks critically about why it’s disgusting to them, or tries to understand why it exists, or what it’s for. And this is most people’s reaction to most media that deals seriously with anything taboo. “I don’t get it. I don’t like it. It shouldn’t exist. Get it away from me.”

I’m annoyed that the medium, the art form, of video games, is valued so little by so many that this is the wide reaction when something like this gets popular. That the mainstream games journalism media ridicules it, and the creator gets threatened by an internet mob, and it falls on the weirdos and the freaks and the no-name YouTube uwu girls, to give it the serious consideration and recognition it deserves.

To summarize, The Coffin of Andy and Leyley is, in my opinion, a very good video game, and on its behalf, I am mad at video games.

Now, go on. You made it through this video. I told you the plot! You can probably stomach the plot! So go, go. Shoo. Go buy Nemlei a drink. If you want to.

Or, buy us, the joystick system, a drink! You can do that at patreon dot com slash joycestick, or, ko-fi dot com slash joycestick. You can buy us drinks in both of those places.

I’ve been Audrey. Thank you for listening.

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[transflynnscifo]

what if i want to do my silly little posts and make art. but i have work early in the morning

[mostlysignssomeportents]

AI art has no anti-cooption immune system

TONIGHT (July 20), I'm appearing in CHICAGO at Exile in Bookville.

One thing Myspace had going for it: it was exuberantly ugly. The decision to let users with no design training loose on a highly customizable user-interface led to a proliferation of Myspace pages that vibrated with personality.

The ugliness of Myspace wasn't just exciting in a kind of outsider/folk-art way (though it was that). Myspace's ugliness was an anti-cooption force-field, because corporate designers and art-directors would, by and large, rather break their fingers and gouge out their eyes than produce pages that looked like that.

In this regard, Myspace was the heir to successive generations of "design democratization" that gave amateur communities, especially countercultural ones, a space to operate in where authentic community members could be easily distinguished between parasitic commercializers.

The immediate predecessors to Myspace's ugliness-as-a-feature were the web, and desktop publishing. Between the img tag, imagemaps, the blink tag, animated GIFs, and the million ways that you could weird a page with tables and padding, the early web was positively bursting with individual personality. The early web balanced in an equilibrium between the plunder-friendliness of "view source" and the topsy-turvy design imperatives of web-based layout, which confounded both print designers (no fixed fonts! RGB colorspaces! dithering!) and even multimedia designers who'd cut their teeth on Hypercard and CD ROMs (no fixed layout!).

Before the web came desktop publishing, the million tractor-feed ransom notes combining Broderbund Print Shop fonts, joystick-edited pixel-art, and a cohort of enthusiasts ranging from punk zinesters to community newsletter publishers. As this work proliferated on coffee-shop counters and telephone poles, it was visibly, obviously distinct from the work produced by "real" designers – that is, designers who'd been a) trained and b) paid by a corporation to employ that training.

All of this matters, and not just for aesthetic reasons. Communities – especially countercultural ones – are where our society's creative ferment starts. Getting your start in the trenches of the counterculture wars is no proof against being co-opted later (indeed, many of the designers who cut their teeth desktop publishing weird zines went on to pull their hair and roll their eyes at the incredible fuggliness of the web). But without that zone of noncommercial, antiestablishment, communitarian low weirdness, design and culture would stagnate.

I started thinking about this 25 years ago, the first time I met William Gibson. I'd been assigned by the Globe and Mail to interview him for the launch of All Tomorrow's Parties:

https://craphound.com/nonfic/transcript.html

One of the questions I asked was about his famous aphorism, "The street finds its own use for things." Given how quickly each post-punk tendency had been absorbed by commercial culture, couldn't we say that "Madison Avenue finds its own use for the street"? His answer started me down a quarter-century of thinking and writing about this subject:

I worry about what we'll do in the future, [about the instantaneous co-opting of pop culture]. Where is our new stuff going to come from? What we're doing pop culturally is like burning the rain forest. The biodiversity of pop culture is really, really in danger. I didn't see it coming until a few years ago, but looking back it's very apparent.

I watch a sort of primitive form of the recommodification machine around my friends and myself in sixties, and it took about two years for this clumsy mechanism to get and try to sell us The Monkees.

In 1977, it took about eight months for a slightly faster more refined mechanism to put punk in the window of Holt Renfrew. It's gotten faster ever since. The scene in Seattle that Nirvana came from: as soon as it had a label, it was on the runways of Paris.

Ugliness, transgressiveness and shock all represent an incoherent, grasping attempt to keep the world out of your demimonde – not just normies and squares, but also and especially enthusiastic marketers who want to figure out how to sell stuff to you, and use you to sell stuff to normies and squares.

I think this is what drove a lot of people to 4chan (remember, before 4chan was famous for incubating neofascism, it was the birthplace of Anonymous): its shock culture, combined with a strong cultural norm of anonymity, made for a difficult-to-digest, thoroughly spiky morsel that resisted recommodification (for a while).

All of this brings me to AI art (or AI "art"). In his essay on the "eerieness" of AI art, Henry Farrell quotes Mark Fisher's "The Weird and the Eerie":

https://www.programmablemutter.com/p/large-language-models-are-uncanny

"Eeriness" here is defined as "when there is something present where there should be nothing, or is there is nothing present when there should be something." AI is eerie because it produces the seeming of intent, without any intender:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/13/spooky-action-at-a-close-up/#invisible-hand

When we contemplate "authentic" countercultural work – ransom-note DTP, the weird old web, seizure-inducing Myspace GIFs – it is arresting because the personality of the human entity responsible for it shines through. We might be able to recognize where that person ganked their source-viewed HTML or pixel-optimized GIF, but we can also make inferences about the emotional meaning of those choices. To see that work is to connect to a mind. That mind might not necessarily belong to someone you want to be friends with or ever meet in person, but it is unmistakably another person, and you can't help but learn something about yourself from the way that their work makes you feel.

This is why corporate work is so often called "soulless." The point of corporate art is to dress the artificial person of the corporation in the stolen skins of the humans it uses as its substrate. Corporations are potentially immortal, artificial colony organisms. They maintain the pretense of personality, but they have no mind, only action that is the crescendo of an orchestra of improvised instruments played by hundreds or thousands of employees and a handful of executives who are often working directly against one another:

https://locusmag.com/2022/03/cory-doctorow-vertically-challenged/

The corporation is – as Charlie Stross has it – the "slow AI" that is slowly converting our planet to the long-prophesied grey goo (or, more prosaically, wildfire ashes and boiled oceans). The real thing that is signified by CEOs' professed fears of runaway AI is runaway corporations. As Ted Chiang says, the experience of being nominally in charge of a corporation that refuses to do what you tell it to is the kind of thing that will give you nightmares about autonomous AI turning on its masters:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/09/autocomplete-worshippers/#the-real-ai-was-the-corporations-that-we-fought-along-the-way

The job of corporate designers is to find the signifiers of authenticity and dress up the corporate entity's robotic imperatives in this stolen flesh. Everything about AI is done in service to this goal: the chatbots that replace customer service reps are meant to both perfectly mimic a real, competent corporate representative while also hewing perfectly to corporate policy, without ever betraying the real human frailties that none of us can escape.

In the same way, the shillbots that pretend to be corporate superfans online are supposed to perfectly amplify the corporate message, the slow AI's conception of its own virtues, without injecting their own off-script, potentially cringey enthusiasms.

The Hollywood writers' strike was, at root, about the studio execs' dream that they could convert the "insights" of focus groups and audience research into a perfect script, without having to go through a phalanx of lippy screenwriters who insisted on explaining why they think your idea is stupid. "Hey, nerd, make me another ET, except make the hero a dog, and set it on Mars" is exactly how you prompt an AI:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/20/everything-made-by-an-ai-is-in-the-public-domain/

Corporate design's job is to produce the seeming of intention without any intender. The "personality" we're meant to sense when we encounter corporate design isn't the designer's, nor the art director's, nor even the CEO's. The "personality" is meant to be the slow AI's, but a corporation doesn't have a personality.

In his 2018 short story "Noon in the antilibrary," Karl Schroeder describes an "antilibrary" as an endlessly deep anaerobic lagoon of generative botshit:

https://www.technologyreview.com/2018/08/18/104097/noon-in-the-antilibrary/

The antilibrary is a generative AI system that can produce entire librarys’-worth of fake books with fake authors, fake citations by other fake experts with their own fake books and biographies and fake social media accounts, on-demand and instantly. It was speculation in 2018; it’s possible now. Creating an antilibrary is just a matter of investing in a sufficient number of graphics cards and electricity.

https://kschroeder.substack.com/p/after-the-internet

Reading Karl's reflections on the antilibrary crystallized something for me that I've been thinking about for a quarter-century, since I interviewed Gibson at the Penguin offices in north Toronto. It snapped something into place that I've trying to fit since encountering Henry's thoughts on the "eeriness" of AI work and the intent without an intender.

It made me realize why I dislike AI art so much, on a deep, aesthetic level. The point of an image generator is to buffer the intention of the prompter (which might be genuinely creative and bursting with personality) in layers of automated decision-making that flense the final product of any hint of the mind that caused its creation.

The most febrile, deeply weird and authentic prompts of the most excluded outsiders produce images that feel the same as the corporate AI illustrations that project the illusion of personality from the immortal, transhuman colony organism that is the limited liability corporation.

AI art is born coopted. Even the 4chan equivalent of AI – the deeply transgressive and immoral nonconsensual pornography – feels no different from the "official" AI porn churned out by "real" pornographers. "Shrimp Jesus" and other SEO-optimized Facebook slop is so uncanny because it is simultaneously "weird" ("that which does not belong") and yet it belongs in the same aesthetic bucket of the most anodyne Corporate Memphis ephemera:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Corporate_Memphis

We call it "generative" but AI art can't generate the kind of turnover that aerates the aesthetic soil. An artform that can't be transgressive is sterile, stillborn, a dead end.

Support me this summer on the Clarion Write-A-Thon and help raise money for the Clarion Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers' Workshop!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/07/20/ransom-note-force-field/#antilibraries

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

--

Jake (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:1970s_fanzines_(21224199545).jpg

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/deed.en

[beatingtheouijaboardallegations]

i love you nonspeakers. i love you nonverbal people.

i love you nonverbal people who prefer to be called nonverbal. i love you nonspeaking people who prefer to be called nonspeaking. i love you nonspeaking nonverbal people who tired of debate about terminology or can’t keep up with it and just want be heard and communication rights respected.

i love you people who not speak ever since birth ( hi! ). i love you people who use to speak but experience regression / catatonia / burnout or with degenerative physical disabilities. i love you nonspeaking nonverbal people with acquired disabilities.

i love you multimodal communicators. i love you people with complex communication needs. i love you apraxic people who are unreliably speaking. i love you minimally verbal people. i love you semiverbal people. i love you speaking people with selective mutism with intermittent speech ( who listen to us and not speak over )

I love you nonspeaking nonverbal autistic people. i love you nonspeaking / nonverbal people with other intellectual & developmental disabilities. i love you nonspeaking / nonverbal people with apraxia / dyspraxia ( full body or apraxia of speech ) . I love you nonspeaking nonverbal people with brain injury with stroke with aphasia with genetic disorders. i love you nonspeaking / nonverbal people with mental health disabilities that affect language ( eg schizophrenia ) .

I love you AAC users. I love you users of text based AAC. I love you users of picture based AAC. I love you users of low tech AAC. I love you people who can’t afford the big expensive robust systems and rely on free apps or low tech for that reason. I love you people who need small grid size. I love you people who need visual accommodations to AAC like high contrast. I love you people who need alternate access like switch , eye gaze , head track , joystick , partner assisted scanning to make AAC accessible. I love you nonspeaking / nonverbal people who use sign languages. I love you picture card users. I love you letter board users. I love you people who need human support to use AAC , people who use methods like FC and RPM and S2C and all the “ discredited ” method that are constant at risk of being take away from you.

I love you nonspeaking nonverbal people who haven’t found a way to communicate with words that works for them yet. i love you people who communicate mostly or entirely with behavior with gesture with pointing with vocal sounds not words. i love you people who only way communicate is what the system calls “challenging behavior.” I love you people who communicate through violent meltdown, who SIB and hurt others , run away unsafely , destroy property etc and who are punish institutionalize incarcerate or other abused oppressed instead of helped find other way to communicate. i love you nonverbal nonspeaking people who won’t ever see this post, who under institution control or informal more subtle control and don’t have access to social media , or who disability make social media hard , or who just don't like / have interest in being on here (was me for a while !)

I love you nonverbal and nonspeaking people who have found a home in the nonverbal / high support need community on here and who feel like experience is represent. i love you nonverbal and nonspeaking people who have found a home in offline AAC / nonspeaking world like CommunicationFirst and the spellling to communicate conferences. I love you nonverbal and nonspeaking people who not find their " home " in the disability / nonverbal nonspeaking community yet , who not see own experience represent anywhere.

i love you nonspeakers of color. i love you nonspeaking nonverbal queer and trans people. i love you physically disabled nonspeaking / nonverbal people. i love you mentally ill / Mad nonspeaking nonverbal people. i love you poor nonspeaking nonverbal people. i love you nonspeaking / nonverbal people not from global north.

i love you nonverbal people. i love you nonspeaking people. we are great and we deserve to be heard.

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

Oooh! Hi!!

How are you?

I saw your 1.5k celebration post. First of all: congratulations!!! You're doing amazing!

I'd like to ask Romcom with Wally West. My idea would be something like going on a date and kissing under the rain or something similar.

Thank you in advance and take care! 🌼🌿

thank you sweetie! i hope i did okay since this is my first official post of wally west (i miss him so much in the yj universe😫) fem!reader (1.5k celebration)

for your six month anniversary, wally decided to take both of you to an arcade he used to visit frequently when he was younger. there was a mix of games from the nineties to most recent, there was a small bowling area tucked away in one corner and a snack booth in another.

“just one more try. i can feel it,” wally was hunched over a joystick attached to a claw machine trying to win you a stuffed bunny. it’s been fifteen minutes and this was his seventh try.

you stood behind him with your palms caressing his waist under his flannel, “love it’s alright. i have plenty of plushies from previous dates.” moving to rest your chin on his shoulder as you eyed the slow move of the flimsy silver claw.

“but this would be special since it’s our anniversary. could write the date on its tag so you’ll always be reminded.” he leaned in closer, you worried his eye sight might fail with all this squinting. “plus i… almost… got-“ the bunny was caged in its grasp and hung shakily in the air. you both held your breath as it was dangling over to drop off, then it was free and a bright you win! sign was lit on display.

“told you!” wally spun around so he could hug you tight around the waist and give you a spin. you squealed in delight with your arms secure along his neck, “wally!”

he set you down after three full turns then remembered to grab the prize. “ma’ lady,” he bowed as he presented the soft pink plushie. it was dressed with a bow tie, you can forgive him for taking awhile.

a palm to his right cheek as you pressed a kiss to the left, “thank you, my love. do you wanna get some milkshakes from down the block?” letting your thumb sweep along his freckled skin.

“absolutely. i’m starving.” him and that fast metabolism.

walking hand in hand down the mostly empty sidewalk there was smile conversation passed between you, wally giving you small updates about how the teams doing and you mentioned to him about a cousins wedding that you were invited to and asked if he wanted to be your plus one.

“of course. gotta let everyone know that you’re a taken gal. plus i wanna see you all pretty and sparkly.” his own lips on your cheek as you waited for the crossing light to change.

and then there was a loud rumbling soon followed by a bright light. “no way,” you heard wally mutter. and then heavy, fast rain from the sky descended upon you both. you were drenched within two minutes.

“let’s get-“ “wait.” you stopped wally from pulling you in the direction of dry cover. you smiled with your eyes closed up at the darkened clouds, a joyous feeling growing in your chest.

“baby, we gotta get inside.” wally sounded concerned and that was a rare emotion to appear. “you were sick for a week last month, your immune system needs more rest.”

“i know, worry wart. but-“ you looked at him with a giddiness settling in your pupils, “since it’s our anniversary i have one request that you can’t say no to.”

“if it’ll get us out the rain, absolutely.”

that made you grin cheekily, “can we have a romcom movie kiss in the rain? please? i’ve always wanted one. be the best boyfriend ever and grant me this one lifelong wish.” trying to bat your lashes as a flourish.

wally rolled his eyes put then led the both of you into the pouring rain, the fast raindrops smacking at your head. “bet we’ll get sick.” “oh, you’ll be fine mister speedster.”

wally rested his hands to your hips and you cupped his cheeks with the biggest grin on your face, “happy anniversary.” you practically shouted to be heard over the pounding.

you felt wally squeeze your hips and then he leaned his head to yours. your slippery lips meshed together, the thunder noises drowned out as you let yourself get swept away in the special way only wally west can make you feel.

after a good moment of indulgence wally was the first to pull away, “can we go inside now? you’re starting to feel like killer frost.”

[eerieangels]

( 💭 ) BOYGIRLSTREAMER !

[PT: boygirlstreamer !]

a gender under the genderstreamer system . . . a gender related to streamers and boygirls, being a boygirl and a streamer, a boygirl with streamer-like qualities, etc.

( 💭 ) GIRLBOYSTREAMER !

[PT: girlboystreamer !]

a gender under the genderstreamer system . . . a gender related to streamers and girlboys, being a girlboy and a streamer, a girlboy with streamer-like qualities, etc.

tagging : @lovesse

[ ID - Four flags are on this post, two for each gender. They are similar in composition, having two thin straight stripes, two bumpy stripes with stars inside each bump, two wider bumpy stripes with nothing inside, and two stripes which appear as the background for the center stripe, which is an offwhite colour. The first flag on each post has an icon which is a video game controller with three buttons and a star joystick. Both of the flags are composed of tones ranging from both pink to orange, and blue to purple, but the alignment of the tones is flipped - pink to orange is the uppermost colour gradient on the girlboystreamer flags, where blue to purple is the uppermost colour gradient on the boygirlstreamer flags. The controller icon for the girlboystreamer flag is pink. The controller icon for the boygirlstreamer icon is blue. ]

id by @imawanokiwaaa!!

[fictionkinfessions]

It's funny wanting to participate in Canon Games,

and your brain continually reminds you that as one of your kins your "Games" were mostly:

(warning for gore/body horror stuff. Carrion was/is very gore-centric.)

"Slam the human on the walls and see how long it takes to break its spine"

"Which body can I throw the farthest"

"Can we tear off the head"

(Yes, Yes we could. It was surprisingly easy. Getting JUST the head though... that was a real challenge. :/ Usually the spine came with it.)

"Who has the tastiest limbs"

"Time for a tea party"

(In which instead of dolls I used bodies of humans because it's all I had–)

"How fucked up can I make you look"

(In which I tried to kill someone cleanly then slammed them against walls to see how fucked up they could get before becoming too broken to effectively slam against things)

"Limb explosion"

(In which I kept slamming a body against things until parts of it flew off from such aggressive movements, usually legs, arms, heads... or I shook them like a soda can until I achieved the same result.)

"Yooooo look at the worm!!!"

(Several poor attempts to make human cadavers do something that looks like the "worm" dance by repeatedly slamming them into the floor. Tended to end with a very mushy corpse... :'[ not yummy at all.)

And other absolutely gory monstrosities that were only " fun " because it's all we had available to do. All we got in that place were humans and they kept shooting at us, because we were a " monster " and they had orders to kill us, so... :/

– A Carrion [Carrion horror game] kin 🥩🪱

(Sorry if this is too much gore-ish things for one submission, you don't have to post this. It's just mildly funny trying to think of Canon Games, and the flesh hivemind worm thing in the background decides to be like: "HEYYY!! I GOT GAMES!" And they're the most atrocious things you've ever been reminded of. I mean, I also played some Pong with that one scientist who didn't run away screaming from us, but that's because I didn't have the finesse to work better game systems. Joystick type games are all I could work. :'>

But also um... kinfirming Carrion, I suppose? Like officially?)

x

[elbiotipo]

I randomly remembered that 10 years ago I came across someone's livejournal where he was posting his worldbuilding for a MLP TTRPG campaign, and one thing that I remember is that he concluded that ponies would use base 12 system because they have 4 hooves and 12 is easy to divide by 2, 3, 4, 6, and 12, and also has connections to astronomy (I think that the Moon was usual).

I don't remember any other specifics but like, he was also calculating the speed at which ponies should mature, and also used some 3D models to estimate anatomy, so he was serious.

(Also for whatever reason this version of MLP was part of Chronicles of Amber multiverse)

Unfortuantely(?) bronies are REALLY good at worldbuilding. My favorite is the computer "keyboard" they designed for hoofs, basically since you can't type with hooves, it was a couple of "joysticks" you moved along to type words.

To be honest, it's very fun to imagine how non-human creatures would utilize everyday objects. In the case of ponies however it does get into an almost terrifying detail though as you can imagine (confession: I was literally in 4chan when the whole brony thing began but I got out of the train at time, I saw the first three or four threads about it)

[transhuman-priestess]

would you happen to have a flight sim recommendation? Ive seen you post about using them and wondered which one you thought would be best

Depends what you're looking for.

The two big players are Microsoft Flight Simulator and X-Plane.

MSFS is very pretty, it has some decent tutorials built-in, and there's a huge array of content for it, but, at least on my computer, it runs somewhat unstably. It's also very accessible, bordering on hand-holding, which can be good if you're new to flight sims but can also get very old very quickly once you know what you're doing. It's also designed for a gamepad primarily, and you can play it on Xbox. I think its a a little over-designed actually. There's a ton of aftermarket planes available, mostly thru the in-game browser. There might be freeware, i haven't really looked into it.

X-Plane is less pretty, the graphics are maybe a tiny bit more dated, you don't get the photorealistic scenery, but the flight dynamics are much, much more realistic. The difference is hard to explain succinctly but the long and short of it is that, on average, a well designed aircraft for X-Plane will feel "more real" than one in MSFS. X-Plane is also usable on Windows, Mac, and Linux. There's a lot of aftermarket content for it, but less than MSFS, although last i checked there's a larger portion of freeware. It's also a little more persnickty vis-a-vis installation and management. X-Plane also comes with a utility to help you make airplanes for it, though you have to provide the 3D modeling software (like blender) yourself.

Overally, it really boils down to what you want in your flight simulator

MSFS

Pros:

Photorealistic Scenery

Wide variety of assistance

Highly accessible tutorials

Lots of aftermarket content

Available on Windows and Xbox

Cons:

Less realistic flight dynamics

Pretty graphics means higher system requirements

Can be overbearing if you're experienced with flight sims

Designed for a gamepad first and foremost, feels somewhat awkward with the old fashioned joystick, mouse, and keyboard

X-Plane

Pros:

More realistic Flight Dynamics

Built-in plane maker utility

Runs on Windows, Linux, and Mac

Slightly more generous system requirements

Takes up waaaaaaaaaay less space (my install, which has a shitload of aftermarket content in it, takes up 30gb less than my vanilla MSFS install)

Great if you're familiar with flight sims or flying in general

Cons:

Finicky installation and content management compared to MSFS. If you're used to digging in folders and installing mods that way, you won't have any trouble with it, but if you're not experienced with that its got a bit of a learning curve (and you should learn that! it's a great skill!)

Scenery is more generic than MSFS, particularly outside of major cities

Requires a computer, not available on PS5 or Xbox (Imo this is a pro, not a con, but if you don't have a gaming computer its obviously a problem)

Less aftermarket content available

Requires a bit of manual configuration to get going right

Fewer tutorials

Now, I understand it sounds like MSFS is "better" but i really feel that X-Plane is the better choice if you're going to get seriously into this stuff. That being said, i have both, and I play both, but I play X-Plane a whole lot more. If you're brand-new at flight simming, i'd recommend getting MSFS, but don't splurge for the super-deluxe editions. If you've simmed before, i can't recommend X-Plane enough.

TL;DR: MSFS is good for beginners, X-Plane is better for anyone beyond beginner level.

[genshin-impact-updates]

"Windblume's Breath" Version 3.5 Update Maintenance Preview

Dear Travelers,

Our developers will soon begin performing update maintenance. While the update maintenance is in progress, Travelers will be unable to log in to the game. Please take note of the update time and schedule your game time accordingly.

After this is complete, the game will update to a new version. We recommend that Travelers install this update over a Wi-Fi connection.

〓Update Schedule〓

Update maintenance begins 2023/03/01 06:00 (UTC+8) and is estimated to take 5 hours.

〓How to Update Game Client〓

PC: Close the game, open the Genshin Impact Launcher, and click Update.

iOS: Open the App Store and tap Update.

Android: Open the game and follow the directions on-screen.

PS5™ and PS4™: Highlight Genshin Impact from the Home Screen, press the OPTIONS button and select "Check for Update."

Please do not hesitate to contact Customer Service if you encounter any issues installing the new version. We will do our very best to resolve the issue.

〓Compensation Details〓

Maintenance Compensation: Primogems ×300 (60 Primogems per hour the servers are down)

〓Scope of Compensation〓

Maintenance Compensation: Travelers who reach Adventure Rank 5 or above before 2023/03/01 06:00 (UTC+8).

Please claim before the end of Version 3.5.

Our developers will distribute compensation to Travelers via in-game mail within 5 hours after the update maintenance is finished. The mail will expire after 30 days, so don't forget to claim the attached compensation in time.

For more update details, including bug fixes and other compensation details, please see the Version Update Details notice to be posted at 2023/03/01 07:00 (UTC+8).

〓Update Content Overview〓

〓Adjustments & Optimizations〓

● System

On the Weapon and Artifact enhancement interface, you can now hold and scroll/swipe to select multiple Artifacts and Weapons that you want to consume.

On the Destroy interface, you can now hold and scroll/swipe to select multiple Artifacts and Weapons that you want to destroy.

On mobile, when the interaction key in certain gameplay modes is not available, it is now possible to touch the corresponding area to adjust the viewing angle.

Optimizes operations and interactions on the Weapons and Artifact interface, and fixes some issues:

In Controller Mode, once Weapons and Artifacts have been enhanced to their maximum level, or when Weapons have been refined to their maximum level, you can now return to the previous page via the "Back" button.

In Controller Mode, the Weapon/Artifact Attributes on the right side of the Weapon/Artifact Enhancement page can now be toggled up and down with the right joystick.

In Controller Mode, when opening the comparison window in the Artifact Interface, the same button can be pressed again to close the window.

Fixes an issue whereby under certain circumstances, the names of a small portion of Artifacts in the Artifact Enhancement menu were abnormally obscured.

Optimizes the movement effects of the list of Artifacts or Weapons when selecting Artifacts or Weapons in the Character interface.

● Audio

Optimizes the sound reverberation effects for certain indoor settings.

Optimizes the sound performance of certain interfaces.

Optimizes the Korean, English, and Japanese voice lines of some characters and fixes some voice-over text errors.

Optimizes the Korean, English, and Japanese voice lines for some quests.

● Genius Invokation TCG

Adjusts the interface performance for the dice rolling phase of Genius Invokation TCG.

Optimizes the refresh logic for the number of times the Summons and Team Combat Statuses can be used in Genius Invokation TCG. The number of Usages will take the highest value.

Example: Suppose that the default initial number of Usages for a Summon is 2, and that Summon is already on the field and its current available Usages is at 4. Before the optimization, if that Summon is created again, the number of its available Usages will be updated to 2. After said optimization, the maximum number of available Usages will be 4.

● Other

Optimizes the visual performance of certain scenes.

Optimizes the source description of the Traveler's Constellation activation material.

Adds a path on the map to a cave entrance in the Qusayr Al-Inkhida' area of the Desert of Hadramaveth (only adds an icon on the map, the terrain remains unchanged.)

It is no longer possible to use the "Treasure Compass" gadget in the Eternal Oasis.

Adjusts the display order of the achievement "The Dirge of Bilqis" in the "Sumeru: The Gilded Desert - Series II" achievement category.

Adjusts the name of the namecard from "Achievement: Sandstorm" to "Sumeru: Sandstorm."

Adjusts the category names of some items.

Adjusts the category of some enemy drops to "Character and Weapon Enhancement Material."

Adjusts "Talent Level-Up Material" to "Character Talent Material."

After defeating bosses, the names of some Character Ascension Materials obtained by using Resin are adjusted from "Character Level-Up Material" to "Character Ascension Material."

Adjusts the "Gadgets" obtained through the Crafting Bench to "Consumables."

*This is a work of fiction and is not related to any actual people, events, groups, or organizations.

"PlayStation", "PS5", "PS4", "DualSense", "DUALSHOCK" are registered trademarks or trademarks of Sony Interactive Entertainment Inc.

[joyce-stick]

complete compiled compilation of several recently transpired askings and answerings on the blog of one @hikari-ni-naritai

(The post, for context:)

three hours later:

[insomniamamma]

The Shallow: Din Djarin x f!reader

A/n: written for @oonajaeadira &  @yearofcreation2023 's challenge, my Year of Kisses. This prompt is a kiss before dying. This is set post s2 of The  Mandalorian. In this story Din and the reader have a ship called the Mudhorn.  Did I name a hyperspace phenomina after a Lady Gaga song? Yes i did.

Warnings: Angst for days. Implied main character death. References to sex but nothing explicit. Helmetless Din.  Grogu is safe with Luke so at least there's that. Also I have given up trying to make this stupid webbed site format things properly.

You know what the jump is supposed to feel like. You've been mechanic crew on plenty of small outfits before hooking up with the Mandalorian. There's usually a sliding sensation, a feeling in the inner ears, sometimes you can see it almost, the nearest surface bending down in a curve to oblivion, the tricks that hyperspace plays on a person's nerves, but it doesn't let up this time, that feeling that the world is bottoming out into an endless arc into nothing, the hyperdrive housing jets sparks overhead that burn sharp on your exposed skin, but it snaps you out of it some, reminds you that no matter how things look, there is still the here and now of the Mudhorn and she is wallowing-- Your coms crackle to life--

"What's happening down there? She's fighting me--" And you can hear the hyperdrive and sub-light engines surging intermittently, like they're fighting with each other and you go cold all over. This isn't supposed to happen. "What can you see out the window?" "This is no time--" "JUST TELL ME--" "Lines. Twisting lines. Are those stars?" "Kriff, we're tumbling." You feel the hyperdrive surge, that feeling of falling, the straight lines and struts of the Mudhorn curving away from you into angles that are impossible, the ship groans around you.

"We're in the shallow," you say, "Stop fighting it! We're going to break up!" They call it the interstice, the nowhere, the not-place. The place between real space and hyperspace, a film that you punch through like the surface tension on a water drop. You slap the control panel to your left and fire-suppressant foam dumps from above, dampening the sparks. The fire's out but the sublight-engines and hyperdrive still push and pull against each other like the chambers of a diseased heart. The Mudhorn groans around you but holds. For now. You plug your data-pad into the boards and start running diagnostics.

"We're in the shallow," says Mando. You startle and hit your head on the panel you've wedged yourself under. Lay back on the creeper and press a hand to your forehead to make sure you're not bleeding. "Dank Farrik! You scared me--" "What does that mean?" You haul yourself from under the panels and peer up into the nothing of his T-visor. "It means that the primary boards are slag," you say, and you feel tears prick hot in the corners of your eyes, "Your nav computer and your joystick are trying to work through a fused brick. So I would appreciate it greatly if you'd stop touching things--" You go to slide yourself back under the panels and Mando jams his foot beneath the creeper's wheels. "What does this mean?" "I don't know yet," you say, "The main control conduits are fried. Long range nav's down. Guidance is down. Computer interface is down. I don't know if I can get any of it back up. If I can get the computer back up I might be able to talk to the engines." "Might." "Look, that's the best I've got. Either lend a hand or get out of my way."

It doesn't help that every so often your visual field curves down in an impossible arc, while your inner ear tells you that the ship is moving violently up and to the side. You took a stim shot and have an anti-nausea patch slapped to your neck. We're going to be stuck like this forever, a traitorous voice pipes up as your fingers fly over the boards, splicing wires and sucking at burns, trying to puzzle your way around a half-slagged electrical system, all the while giving Mando instructions. There's no forever on a spaceship, a second, equally traitorous voice has it's say. Battery power runs down. Consumables run out. Scrubbers saturate. Fuel burns up. Best not to think of it. Work the problem. Solve one problem and the universe might hand you another one. You hear Mando's footfalls and haul yourself from underneath, swiping at your gritty eyes with equally gritty hands.

"When did you eat last?" "What? Why?" At the mention of food your stomach rumbles like a sleeping rancor. "Come on," he says and offers you a hand up, "You've been down here for hours." "The conduits--" "Aren't going anywhere. Neither are we." You take his hand and he leads you to the tiny galley.

Mando makes you eat two ration bars and drink a bowl of broth before he will even let you explain to him. And then he makes you say it twice. "We're stuck between," "Between?" "Hyperspace and real-space. The shallow." "That's not possible." says Mando. "Then I guess we have nothing to worry about." Anger flares bright, but it's short lived. It's hard to maintain anger at a featureless helmet, "Look. When we jump to hyperspace it just happens right? It happens so fast that we can't even think of it. The computer can see it a little bit--" "The ratty data," says Mando, "Right after a jump you get a bunch of nonsense. The nav-comp just logs it as noise--" "You've noticed! Most people don't give it a thought!" And you feel yourself smiling despite the situation you're in, "It's not noise! That's when you pass through the shallows. There's real space and there's hyperspace but there's a membrane between them--" "So we're caught in this membrane." "Yes. I think so. Kriff. I honestly don't know how we haven't just broken up."  Mando nods. "I've got hull sensor warnings going off everywhere," he says, "Shields will only help for so long. We've got to get out of this lurch." "I can't reroute the controls," you shake your head, "The mains are all slagged. Everything overloaded when we jumped." "I still have some maneuverability--" "The secondary thrusters," you say, "It's an independent system. But we've got to save that. That's all we've got control over right now. If I could--" "What do we do?" You bury your face in your hands, and that makes the sideways-upward-nowhere lurch and shimmy seem a little less, your eyes and your inner-ears not arguing for a few seconds. Mando rests his hand on your shoulder. "Cyare. What do we do?" "I don't know."

"Look," you say. Some time has passed. You're not sure how much. "I can force us into real space, but it means cutting the the mains off. You might have to fix the lurch with the secondaries. I think I can bring the mains back online, but the hyperdrive--" "What about the hyperdrive?" "The intakes are fused open," you say, "The only way we can shut it down is to blow the tanks and vent the fuel into space. It'll go into shutdown on its own. It's a hard failsafe." "We dump the hyper fuel and we'll be stranded wherever we drop out," "Yeah." "This is it? This is all you've got?" And you can't look at him, you can't look at the blank of his visor and his hands planted on his hips. You turn tail and run into the bowels of the ship, closing the bulkheads behind you. You fetch up near the main engines, hear them misfiring and trying to spool back up, listen to the drone of the machinery that is going to kill you, bury you face in your hands and cry as hard as you've been trying not to this last endless day. It doesn't even sound like you, what comes out of your throat, the wail of a baby forgotten in it's crib. There's nothing more you can do.

He regrets the words as soon as they come out of his mouth, sees the flinch, the flash of hurt across your face and then your back as you run from him, bulkheads sealed before he can even think to chase you. He uses the manual override on the doors. This ship is big, far too big for two people, he thinks and not for the first time. He finds you in the engine access bay, pressed against the bulkhead, tucked into yourself, curled up tight.

"I can't fix it," you say, "That last shot before we jumped hit just right. Fused most of our avionics up solid. I can't--I can't-- even if I had a bay with all the parts and mech droids-- this is--I don't know what else to do." Mando lays his hand on your shoulder, a light, hesitant touch. "This is a one in a million thing--I don't--" "It's okay," says Mando. "I can't fix it," "It's okay," he curls his hand lightly around the nape of your neck and gives you a little shake. You lean back into him, feel the cold beskar at your back. You're so tired, more tired than you can ever remember feeling, and his arms come up around you, wrap over your own, he rocks you like one would a child. Grogu's not here. Thank the force for small mercies.

"Do we dump the fuel first or cut off the engines?" "Fuel," you say, "If we blow the tanks in real-space it'll just tumble us worse." "How do we do it?" Asks Mando,"We can't spacewalk out there. Not like this." "Belly turret," you say, "Pull up the cannons all the way and you should be able to hit the outboard tank housing." "So we shoot ourselves in the ass." Says Mando. And you feel a smile creeping up your tear-streaked face. "Yep. We shoot ourselves in the ass. Once the pressure drops we'll hear the hyperdrive go into shutdown right before we drop.  I'll kill the mains and then you'll have to use the secondary thrusters to pull us out of the lurch." "This is a bad idea." "You got a better one?" "No. You ready?" "Kriff. I guess."

It worked. You didn't expect it to. The drop into real space was rough but Mando had managed to right the ship. After much cursing and cajoling, the main engines had come back online, and now you sit on the cold deck plating with the guidance board held in your hand, rerouted to back up power via a long, much spliced cable, fed back into one of the few working displays via a slightly less tortured cable. Mando sits like a statue in the pilot's chair as you bring up one star-chart after another, desperately hoping something will line up, anything that can give you a reference, some idea of where you've fetched up. "No," says Mando. "ok now?" "No." "Now?" "No." The guidance board by itself is a dumb data repository. Without the Mudhorn's main computer up you have to bring up one file at a time, and wait for the external sensors to catch up. "Now?" "No." "Now?" "No." The main computer could do this in a couple heartbeats, but the main computer is a useless brick at the end of a slagged cable wired into a half-melted board. There is only so much you can do. You've hardwired a keypad into the guidance board, typing grid-coordinates in manually, squinting at a sheet of flimsi you found tucked behind the board when you'd yanked it out. "Now?" "No." "Now? "No." "Now?" "Stop." "What? You've got something?" "This isn't going to work--" "It will! We just have to keep at it!" "Cyare. It's been almost two days. We need to stop." "If I could just figure out where we are--" "And do what? We're broadcasting our position," he says, "Someone will hear the distress signal or they won't." "If I can figure out where we are we could at least aim ourselves someplace," you say but you know there's no point to it. Hyperspace has made the galaxy feel small, but it is not. This system you've fetched up in is far from habitable, a young star with a broad accretion disk, spewing radiation, nothing to indicate that anyone's ever been here. Traveling sublight? Coruscant could one system over and you and Mando would be desiccated mummies before you ever got there. Still, your fingers move over the keypad.

"Now? Now? Mando, now?" And all you get back is static. You keep punching the numbers and calling over comms until you hear his footfalls, glance up from the board to see his offered hand. "It's time to stop," he says, and you let him pull you up from the cold deck-plating, from the hastily assembled control board and ugly snaked cable, his hand folded around yours. "Are you hungry? Can you eat?" You shake your head. "Maybe some broth," you say and paw at the tears that build up in your eyes. You're not like this. You don't cry like this. You don't fall apart like this and here you are in the space of two days, or is it three? Or four now? Cracking open and leaking out. Mando lays his hand on your back and steers you to the galley. You can't look at him. He presses the steaming cup into your hands. "Mando? I'm sorry." His chest constricts. Death has followed him as far back as he can remember, nearly catching him on Aq Vetina, filling his footsteps through the sands of Tatooine, clinging to his heels across a hundred worlds. He lives and breathes and hunts knowing that death has been his partner in the dance of his life since he swore the Creed.  We burn bright and strong, and when death comes for us we embrace her and let her return us to the Manda. We take her hand. Unafraid. This is the Way. He has lived on borrowed time since he swore the Creed and took up the armor. But you never made that deal. You've fallen asleep with your face in your arms, empty bowl at your elbow. "Cyare," he touches your elbow, and you blink up at him, and you are tired, worn down to your bones. He offers his hand.

He doesn’t say anything. Just leads you through the belly of the ship and to his berth, a steadying hand against the small of your back. You’ve bunked together before. The time when he fell through the ice on Arliss and you warmed him the only way you knew how, pulled all his wet gear off and left it heaped on the deck plating, save for his helmet and curled yourself around him. The time you caught sick after a layover on Kijimi, he kept you close while you shivered, hands warm against your skin in the pitch dark. And then there was the botched job on Florrum. You'd boosted with blaster shots still ringing against the hull and then collapsed into each other, his breath coming hard and ragged through the outputs of his helmet, clinging together, your blood singing in your ears in time, rolling hard and desperate inside, you shattered and then you slept together, wrapped in the glow of hyperspace. Nothing said after, nothing needed. We are here. We're still here.

You understand this for what it is. This need to be close, but when the door shuts behind you he doesn't douse the lights. Instead of the usual stripping of his armor, he reaches up for his helmet and you twist away, cramming your eyes shut. "Mando! Your Creed--" "The Creed is broken," he says, and his voice, unmodulated, is warm and uncertain, and laden with grief, "The Child is gone. But we're still here. Aren't we?" He cups your cheek in his calloused palm, and you lean into him, feel slow tears slip from your eyes. "Yeah. I guess we are." For now, you think but don't say, and turn your eyes up to meet his. And Maker and Force and Stars, he is not how you imagined, eyes deep and beautiful and dark and tired, stitched around with wrinkles, worry lines tracing his forehead, dark grey-shot curls sticking up in every direction. Uneven mustache and scruffy jaw, full lips quirked into a one-sided smile. "Hi," he says, and those dark eyes shine with unshed tears. "Hi yourself," you say, and your impulse is to reach for him as you have in the dark, but you curl back, and his hands find your wrists and circle them, guides your hands to his face. He closes his eyes when you touch him, leans into your palms, stays still as you trace the strong line of his nose, the gentle curve of his lower lip, the lush softness of his curls, sweep the tears away with your thumbs. You press your forehead to his, the same way he's done for you, cool beskar steel on warm skin, and then press your lips to the upturned corner of his mouth and he flinches back. You try to draw away, his hands still circling your wrists, your hands curled into fists, "I'm sorry--" But he doesn't let you retreat, cradles your hands in his, smoothes your fingers open to lace together with his, holds your hands against the armor that shields his heart. "Can you... do that again?" "Yeah," you say, and press your lips to his, "We've got all the time in the world."

[masteraqua]

Hi! Out of curiosity, how does it feel to play Kingdom Hearts on the steam deck? I was considering getting a steam deck but I’m not sure how good the controls would actually feel playing Kingdom Hearts. (I’m used to PlayStation controls) Like, (is any of this for real or not-) is playing with the buttons and joysticks near the top of the screen feel comfortable?

hi! i'm happy to report that it's been very comfortable to play. 😄 i played it for roughly 6 hours straight the other day while traveling and didn't have any issues. because the steam deck screen is so big, it can just sit in your lap so you don't have to support the weight of it or crane your neck at all, it's really nice. i suppose my hands started to get a little tired after about the fifth hour of playing, but that wasn't due to the position of the buttons.

i'm not sure if you saw my post about the battery life, but i was shocked by how long i was able to play before i needed to charge it. i straight up forgot to even check the battery until the fourth hour, and i didn't pull the charger out until about 5.5 hours. this was with kh1 and i haven't tested the others. i expect that won't be the case for kh3.

the one thing i do want to mention is the button mapping. this isn't a criticism of the hardware so much as a note for anyone whose brain works the same way as mine. so, the steam deck natively uses the same button configuration as xbox, where the A button is at the bottom of the keypad, like this

however, there's a toggle in the system settings called Use Nintendo Button Layout, which reverses the functionality of the A and B buttons and the X and Y buttons in order to operate more like the nintendo switch. i have this toggle turned on because it feels more comfortable and familiar to me when i'm playing in handheld mode. therefore, the "A" button is at the right of the keypad.

but when the deck is docked, i use a ps4 controller to play games and operate the system, and as i'm sure you know, the X button is at the bottom of the keypad.

what this means for kingdom hearts is that the attack button keeps moving. 🙃 every time i switch between handheld and docked modes, i will inevitably swing my keyblade when i meant to jump and jump when i meant to bash something's face in. it's a struggle.

this problem won't affect anyone who uses the native button mapping for the deck or anyone who only plays exclusively in one mode (handheld or docked). but i still wanted to mention it. you can also remap the playstation buttons if that helps.

all in all though, i'm a huge fan of the steam deck and i definitely recommend it for kh! portable kh1 has been my dream for YEARS and this experience has really delivered (ugly upscaling notwithstanding). i'll be playing it some more on the train back home tomorrow and i'm so excited <3

btw i also recommend getting the official dock as well because it's nice to have somewhere to set it, but you can also use any third party dock with a USB-C cable if you find something cheaper :)

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Cherub

https://www.patreon.com/empyreaniris?fan_landing=true

https://starr-fall-knight-rise.tumblr.com/post/182501791735/master-post

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1jzEIdDAB4omdO2JcQVMObfrhLJ5kX4ONmSsLypM1ks0/edit?usp=sharing

They were too late.

The massive series of warp rings broke apart in a rapid series of silent explosions, blue light flaring through the darkness one last time before going dun, fizzing out like a burst light bulb. Debris scattered on the all three axis of the third dimension, left right, up down, forward and back.

The Empyrean’s shields flared with golden light but did not break.

What was a little debris after the full heat of a blazing star.

Still, the Empyrean may have been fine, but that was about the only good news.

Below them, and a little to the left, the Andromeda trading hub, a once massive rotating space station, broke apart into thousands of chunks, big and little, like a crushed potato chip. Even from here the warning lights flaring inside the space station could be seen pulsating red. Many of the station’s interior doors had been locked tight, sealing off the sections that were still intact.

But plenty more pieces were compromised beyond repair.

Bodies mingled with debris around the station.

And what seemed to be a thousand void ships stratified their shields, many of them too small and too fast for the Empyrean to get a proper lock on.  Several dozen smaller turrets fired from the sides base and peak of her hull intermittently shattering the smaller ships into brief explosions of fire, quickly snuffed by the surrounding vacuum.

But still The empyrean struggled to fight all of them, and in any case it could only contend with a few dozen of the smaller ships while others continued to reap destruction upon what remained of the trading station, falling slowly apart under the continual barrage of ordinance. 

This violent tableau painted itself across the night in complete silence in contrast to the loud colors and powerful flashes of light.

The empyrean was holding up, but she was still only one ship and could do little against the swarm, breaking and whirling around her hull like a school of fish part around the sleek body of a shark. Sure a few of them went down, but the vast majority remained.

Other ships were on the way, but it was already too late for the station, and every second another surviving bit of the space hub was torn open or blown apart, scattering innocent bodies into the vacuum.

Some would likely die there suspended in nothingness.

There was only one option.

Deploy their own squadrons with their best pilot at the head.

Ramirez broke right with the empyrean, and Adam broke left from the open hanger, ship cutting through a brief opening in the empyrean’s shields as he passed into the night. Inside his helmet, his HUD lit up sharply displaying vector lines, and highlighting his enemies in red.

The Fealty combat system was eager to begin briefly appearing on screen as a small animated dog before vanishing.

They had work to do. 

The old Darkfire hummed pleasantly under Adam’s hands, the joystick familiar beneath his fingers. Overhead, the 360 canopy gave him a unique view of the carnage being sewed around him. His mirrored visor kept out the worst of the light, shed from explosions. Cool air was continually fed up into the space inside his helmet, supplying him with a steady stream of oxygen while the cooling air helped him to avoid airsickness, a problem which he had never really had issue with.

He flicked the joystick, and his aircraft rolled sharply right, two times before he restabilized, the rapid spin brought him out of the line of fire. From there he rotated and dropped rapidly, locking onto his attacker, and blowing them out of the sky in quick succession.

In the long standing military tradition of earth since WWI, Adam had become a Flying Ace after five confirmed kills on enemy combatants during a dogfight. That status had been gained over the Gromm homeworld some time ago, and since then he could have become an ace several times over. In Adam’s own opinion that fact said nothing about the flying abilities of the men and women who came before him in Earth’s military history, but the simple fact that there was a higher emphasis on aerial combat these days, and more people to shoot.

These days the threshold in difficulty for becoming an ace hovered somewhere around the 50 kill mark. Even with all the opportunity to join aerial combat, rarely did anyone have the opportunity to make fifty confirmed aerial takedowns. Human militaries the GA over had coined the term

Superace.

Only a few men and women had since gained that title.

Adam oriented the darkfire vertical to his previous line of flight, and then rotated the back burners in the direction he had originally been flying.

When he fired up the burners, his ship shot backwards in the opposite direction, passing under his pursuer by a mere few feet. As he passed, he deployed a rapid burst of hornet missiles, which swarmed the other ship and tore it apart.

From there he rolled left and dived down as his own ship began. Someone had lock on him, and he wasn’t going to wait for them to use it.

He corkscrewed into a sharp dive, up or down or sideways it didn’t matter before pulling up sharply. The enemy combatant followed him with only relative difficulty.

This one had more talent than the others.

Orgave void light flared from its engines.

Adam rolled right and then arced in a large sweeping parabola down and to his left, passing under his pursuer. It was a good manuver, and it kept him out of weapons lock, but it also didn’t put him into a good attack position either. The other pilot seemed to be well aware of that fact, and their two ships were swept into a violent dance around what remained of the shattered space station.

A burst of orange energy shot over Adam’s right wing, singing the paint black.

Damn this one was good, 

The pilot was probably human, no other way they would have the reflex to go toe to toe with Adam like this.

It was an interesting sensation. Adam had never fought another human before, and the experience was wholly unpleasant.

He tired to shake his pursuer, pulled out every trick in his proverbial book, but at the very last second whoever they were always seemed to manage to pull out before catastrophe.

Adam was the better pilot, but not by much.

Below him, the broken station took reprieve in their sudden bout of violence, untouched for the moment. They hadn’t intended to come here, had intended to go meet Kazna at the place where the stars matched Naktan’s vision, but all of that had gone to hell in a hand basket when the GA declared war on Arcadia.

The GA which was now run by the void under control of none other than the dark general Kazna herself.

The attacks had happened all at once, all at once all over the two galaxies as Adam and his crew had prepared for their final push to the finish. As the Arcadian star, Bob, fell under fire, so too did their allies.

An entire armada of previously unseen black void warships had appeared at Celex borders, The Jovian System Europa Colonies (JSEC) had gone under siege at almost the same time and several of eighty moons had been destroyed along with a thousand or more people who made the moons of jupiter their home. None of the Galilean moons had been destroyed but Amalthea had easily been the largest casualty . Europa had been locked down to secure the Hydroplants, while its military had mobilized from Ganymede’s surface.

Meanwhile an advance force had locked down Anin, unable to make it past the Drev field Nexus that guarded the planet, but effectively cutting them off from the rest of their allies.

So far, the interior of the Solar System had remained untouched.

Noctopolis had been taken rapidly, and the Terasaki homeworld was following close after.

Their entire alliance was at war.

Adam rolled onto his back rapidly considering his opinions. Briefly he considered trying to lose his pursuer among the debris, outfly him, but he worried what would happen if the other ship crashed into one of the surviving station pods.

He couldn’t risk it.

The other ship dropped low and pulled back, trying to lock onto him again, but Adam pulled into a sharp backward loop.

The other pilot saw hat he was doing and rotated his ship in place trying to keep Adam within his sights.

That not working, Adam began a slow spiral inwards  and sped up. 

Angular momentum.

If he wanted to keep it up he was going to have to spin in a tighter circle than Adam with higher G forces.

The other pilot gave up and broke out of the spin, but by that time Adam was behind him Another set of ships cut past, a void ship chasing one of the Empyrean’s own ships.

It was a Maker design, part of what had been included in the Empyrean’s equipment, its hull pearly white, its engines alive with golden energy. It made Adam’s old darkfire look like a scrap heap, but the pilot didn’t have nearly as much experience as Adam, or its pursuer.

Whoever was flying that ship wasn’t going to last long.

Adam had an idea.

Fealty tagged the friendly ship. 

Callsign: Copycat 

Adam cut to the side as her pursuer came back around intentionally allowing the other pilot to hook onto this tail as he keyed his mike, “Come in Copycat,”

“Cherub!” 

Wow, he hadn’t heard that name in a long time.

You don’t give yourself a callsign, it's simply bad form. That name had been given to him back at the academy shortly after his first flight, Kimball had read his review from then Captain Palmer who said, “A man with a baby face who can fly like an angel.” Hence Cherub.

Adam didn’t keep his baby face for long, but the name stuck.

He hadn’t used it much since.

“Follow my lead copycat, and I’ll get you out of this.”  he didn’t usually like to make promises, but this one he knew he could cash.

“Copy Cherub.”

Copycat was just holding on, but she managed to follow his orders circling in a wide arc upwards.

Adam had to time this just right or they were screwed.

He cut upwards as well, angling down sharply going fast.

Copycat was reaching the top of her arc.

“Turn down in three, two.”

“He’s Got lock on me!” She shouted.

“HOLD.” Adam snarled into his mic

She quivered in the air but did as told 

Adam shot under her at high speeds just as she began plunging dowards. Her nose missed his tail by feet. Their pursuers were not so lucky, vanishing together in very brief fireball as they collided, shattering apart mid air as they both broke rolling to the sides to avoid flying bits of metal.

“Air fleet, this is the Empyrean, hostile forces are breaking, moving to surround the station.”

Ramirez’s voice crackled a bit over the comm but Adam moved to do as told, flying wingtip to wingtip with copycat joined shortly by Sidestep and Kermit.” as they moved to the station, rotating around what remained of one of their central trade hubs.

Adam’s heart sank a bit as he looked on at the carnage. A lot of people died here today.

But not only that.

The void was cutting off the trade supply.

[fluffypichu876]

Mutual, congratulate me - I've finally freakin read that Gaming Ask List you reblogged... uhhhhh... 6th jan. ANYWAY

Gaming ask game!

I'm gonna send a few of these together, feel free to answer as many or as few as you wish to)

3. Favourite childhood game?

7. Most disappointing game you’ve played?

8. The game with the best atmosphere/scenery?

12. Most bizarre game you’ve ever played?

14. Do you watch playthroughs online?

15. Favourite animal in a video game?

21. If you had to play one game for the rest of your life, what would it be?

26. How often do you play online? Co-op?

30. On average, how long does it take you in the character creation screen?

43. Favourite sidekick or companion?

54. A sequel you really want?

62. Would you want to work with video games when you are older?

65. Any favourite screenshots of games?

72. Have any guilty pleasure games?

74. Which game has the best lore?

(links don't work with asks so I'll link the original post the ancient way) tumblr dot com /corvoblinks/136954217573/75-gaming-asks

That's a new record, mutual! xDDDDD Old ask games are still valid in my blog, so thank you for sending one!

Oh hoh boy, let's talk video games!

3. Yoshi's Island for the SNES, no doubt! This game might be the first I have ever played! (at least, it's the first game I have played with the most vivid memories) Started it when I was little, picking up a joystick controller to play on the good old ZSNES emulator (that pixelated menu is so nostalgic for me), which my dad set up for me to play.

It was my first contact with a video game and a emulator, and one could say it was all downhill from there xDD

Childhood memories aside, the game itself is pretty good! A very fun platformer with very charming graphics. It's also pretty satisfying to 100%.

8. Ummm, there's some containders for that! As I have said in a post before, Castlevania SOTN has some of my favorite vibes and atmospheres in gaming, and it accomplishes that with a great blend of graphics and sound design.

The first Metal Gear Solid on the PSX also has an amazing atmosphere to it, despite the old-dated low polygon graphics.

Super Castlevania IV on the SNES is of the most atmospheric games on that system, and in true CV fashion, a good part of that is achieved through the soundtrack. The waterfalls and dracula's battle theme are highlights to me:

Dark Souls 1, which I'm currently playing, captures the feel of adventuring into a mysterious, dying world extremely well. The level design is intricate and the areas are interconnected in many ways, each with a unique vibe and story attached. Playing this game blind is highly recommended, as it enhances the experience a lot!

12. I haven't played it, but Top Banana for the Amiga does not look like something that should exist xD It looks cursed, sounds cursed, and it probably plays like a curse too.

As for something that I have played, I gotta say Ecco the Dolphin (and it's sequel). A beloved childhood game of mine, it's strange in a beautiful way, and even as a kid I was mystified by it (I still am).

14. Only snippets and ocasionally a live stream (I don't usually stay for long, though).

15. YOU CAN'T MAKE ME CHOOSE JUST ONE xDDDDD here's a comprehensive list of some of my most memorable favs:

   - Too many Pokemon to count, so here are a few that immediately come to mind: Flygon, Luxray, Reshiram, Elektross, Hydreigon, Skarmory, Breloom.

   - My BOTW horses <333

   - Chocobos

    - The Guardian Ape from Sekiro (awesome boss)

    - D-Dog from MGSV (most precious boi) 21. That's a really hard one xDD Certainly something highly replayable and endlessly fun. Perhaps DMC or Ultrakill?

26. Not very often. I have been engaging with DS1's multiplayer systems, and they're pretty fun!

30. Depends both on the game and my current creativity.

43. My boy D-Dog (mentioned above) is so helpful. So helpful in fact that it makes infiltrating too easy sometimes xD His ability to map out all nearby enemies by their scent makes it super fun to plan strategies ahead, and also you can pet him! :D

54. Sekiro 2 please??? (puppy eyes at Miyazaki)

62. y e s

65. Quite a few! (these are completely out of order, btw)

[samanthahirr]

First Lines

runnRules: Post the first lines of your last 10 fics posted to AO3 (Sort by date posted.) If you have less than 10 fics posted, post what you have!

Thanks so much for tagging me in, @stinastar & @ato-the-bean! My last 10 fics are all 00Q, and I'm clearly an in medias res kind of writer.

The guards shove him into the showroom, hard enough that the hobbling chains bruise his ankles as he stumbles. —Off the Books

James makes the handsome blond fellow at the hotel bar as an operative in under three minutes—and CIA within five. —Flirting with Danger

"I've already spoken with R about staff availability," Tanner says, and pauses to acknowledge her with a small nod before continuing his explanation to Q. "There's a limited roster of staff qualified to run the system they need set up for the meeting, and of those qualified, all but one have already been granted leave for Christmas." —The Highland Holiday Set-Up

His lips are swollen from hours of kissing, his neck so warm from beard burn that he leaves his scarf tucked in his pocket. —Roman Holiday

Bond carries the two heaviest bags while Q carries the lighter one and unlocks the front door. —Groceries and Other Conundrums

"007, Shen just got on the highway heading East. Your on-ramp will be coming up on the right. You must intercept him before he reaches the airfield," Q says into the microphone. —The Laws of Road and Reason

The heavens open ten minutes after the pickup truck—and his erstwhile pursuers—explode. —In from the Storm

"The joystick is highly sensitive, so a light touch—" —Please Ask (for Help)

The new quartermaster is young, attractive, and endlessly creative. —Touch It, Stroke It, and Undress It

James wakes from a heavy sleep to his mobile buzzing in an unfamiliar room. It takes a second longer than it should to reach full consciousness and pull together the clues—dawn light, a soft tropical breeze from the open window, the faint edge of a hangover, James naked and mostly hard, and Q sprawled over his chest…wearing a ring on his left hand where his fingers curl over James’s heart. —Above Honey and Everything

I'm tagging in @pterawaters @sweetbabyangels @stinastar @wantonlywindswept @arasigyrn @emiliasilverova @aprettyspy @stormofsharpthings and anyone else who wants to participate.

Tag, you're it!