Desire of the fittest - Part 2
Self Aware Genshin Alternate Universe - Guide AU (my own take on sagau)
Previous - Next
Warnings :
Adult content (such as violence, bullying, toxic relationships, cursing, angst, nsfw, and others) and yandere behavior (such as obsessive and possessive display)
Theories and lore informations
Since this is my take on an alternate version of Genshin Impact, I've taken the liberty to include elements that may not align with the game's lore but will make sense in this particular story.
Content : And they were roommates, Totally not illegal business meeting, Casual conversation between a pigeon and a dog, How to deal with your partner's ex
"-and that concludes our coverage of the catastrophic disasters currently happening around the globe. On a brighter note, it was recently announced that the renowned game Genshin Impact will explore new horizons to celebrate its 20th anniversary. Today, we have the co-creator and current CEO of Hoyoverse, Mr. Wei, to discuss this highly anticipated event."
The small crowd attending the live show applauds as the CEO makes his entrance. Despite being in his fifties, the man retains a well-preserved appearance under the studio lights, his bright and confident smile illuminating the room. He nods in acknowledgment to the camera and extends a handshake to the TV host, who accepts it. Gesturing for his guest to do the same, they both proceed to take a seat on comfortable sofas.
"Thank you for having me."
The host eagerly clasps her hands together and leans forward, keen to gather more information about the plans for one of the most popular games in its genre. Even with the passage of time, Genshin Impact continues to serve as a source of inspiration for many and boasts a substantial player base worldwide.
"Mr. Wei, we're delighted to have you here with us."
The company's CEO offers a gentle smile, his composed demeanor standing in stark contrast to the energetic TV presenter.
"The feeling is mutual."
Immediately delving into the topic, the host follows the interview script he was given, narrating the current situation for his viewers and initiating a conversation with his guest.
"Several years have passed since Genshin Impact's main storyline came to a close, leaving fans eager to uncover the reasons behind the event announced on social media. While virtual reality has been, indeed, quite the talk in the gaming community since the release of the new AETHERAL&LUMINUS technology, we're curious to know why Hoyoverse decided to enter the world of cyber technology. What led to such decision ?"
Aligning with the host's expectations, the man in his fifties softened his features, conveying a sense of sadness to emphazise his point.
"You may call it nostalgia but the team and I wanted to provide players with the opportunity to immerse themselves in the world of Teyvat one last time before the server's shutdown-"
"Boring..."
As the television screen dims, the ceo's voice fades into silence. Setting aside the remote, you find yourself drawn back into the embrace of your current companion, reveling in the affection he showers upon you. His lips delicately trace a path from your collarbone towards your throat, eventually meeting your own. As your eyes lock with his, you feel him whisper against your breath, anger kindled by your earlier statement.
"I allowed you to have fun with that descender, isn't that enough ?"
Maintaining eye contact, you seize his shoulder and skillfully shift positions, placing yourself atop him. Taking control, you lift his hands from your waist and secure them above his head. Aroused by the demeanor you display, he decides to let you to enjoy yourself and refrains from attempting to escape your hold. Savoring the moment, you slowly bring your face closer to his, allowing your lips to meet once more in a gentle union. As his lips moves forward to taste yours again, you assertively seize his jaw and unhinge it.
"Since when do I need your approval ?"
He escapes your grasp, emitting a painful cry. Clutching his jaw, he quickly realigns it with an audible crack and assesses its movement. Surprisingly, he doesn't appear overly shocked by your swift anger. He has to admit that he provoked it when he brought up your vessel. Well, former vessel, much to his satisfaction. He never held much fondness for the boy, believing he consumed too much of your time. He sighs while reclining on the couch, bringing you into a tight embrace. His gentle hand runs through your hair as he relish in the scent of your cosmetic products. While he remains unfazed by your unpredictable behavior, he doesn't hesitate to flatter you for forgiveness.
"You don't, but I appreciate when you consider it."
You dismiss his sweet words, recognizing them as mere attempts to please you, yet you accept them despite knowing him. He's an adept at manipulating others, appearing to have their best interests at heart while exploiting them. He creates an illusion of comfort and understanding, yet beneath it all, he harbors disdain for emotional displays. Even while knowing that, you prefer to believe in the distinctiveness of your relationship. You hope that he genuinely cares, even though your own feelings are uncertain. While you're not exactly friends, there's a sense of comfort in being your authentic self with him. Though not lovers, you find solace in holding each other during chilly nights, making the mutual loneliness less impactful.
Neither of you can define what you are in each other's eyes. That's why treating him the way you do comes more naturally, it spares you from overthinking.
"I'll play along, but only if you give me a little favor."
He notices the quiet sadness in your eyes but decides not to mention it. Smiling against your lips, he offers a gentle peck, silently seeking permission to go further. Forehead touching yours, he inhales your essence as you part your lips. Confident yet respectful, he explores your mouth at a measured pace, allowing brief breaks between the playful twirls of your tongues.
"Name it, and it'll be yours."
As you gradually pull back, you notice the man pouting, clearly yearning for the warmth you bestowed upon him. Although his clinginess strokes your ego and you enjoy feeling desired, it occasionally becomes irksome. The aftermath of the previous night speaks volume of how long it has been since both of you engaged in such passionate activities. Given your shared affinity for dominance games, perhaps it would have been wise to dial it down a notch.
"I want to be part of your project."
Instantly, the dark-haired man rejects the idea with disdain, his pout transforming into a disapproving snarl, and his nose scrunching in distaste at the mere thought.
"Out of the question."
Even if you saw coming this outcome, it doesn't prevent the surge of anger rising in your chest when he dismisses your request. In a swift motion, he seizes your forearm right before you could reach for the nearest empty alcohol bottle. While his hold lacks strenght, it effectively hinders you from shattering the glass against his head. Closing his eyes, he delicately brings your hand to his lips, placing a tender kiss on it.
"Losing you would drive me mad."
He might have intertwined his own existence with yours, yet, sometimes, it doesn't seem enough to keep you by his side. The intensity of your fascination for his domain unnerves him. While he had hoped for you to hold a similar affection for the present world you both inhabit, he acknowledges that these dying lands can never exude the radiance of Teyvat. Perhaps it was his error to entrust you with its care in his absence. He should have foreseen it. Even if you claim otherwise, he can only witness how your need for excitement is akin to theirs.
However, the issue resides within him, as he cannot bear witnessing the disappointment reflected on your face. With a sigh, the one who calls himself primordial release your arm and speak in a subdued tone, avoiding direct eye contact.
"Hypothetically speaking, if I were to allow you to blend in among them, what's in it for you ?"
In response to your silence, the man peeks in your direction, observing your bewildered, crunched-up face. Baffled, he lacks the time to react as you seize the hem of his partially unbuttoned shirt, propelling both of you upward. Guiding him to the rolling chair behind his desk, you swiftly pull him into it. Vaulting over the desk, you perch on its surface, placing your feet on either side of the chair's armrests, leaving him nowhere to run.
"You're joking right ?"
Seizing a knife lodged in the table, you extract it with a resounding crunch of the desk's wood. Positioning it beneath your partner's chin, his shaved face provides no shield against the blade. The man chuckles dryly, raising his hand leisurely to grasp the weapon's tip, casually creating some distance between it and his neck.
"Sadly, i don't do jokes."
Releasing the knife, you allow him to toss it aside, observing its slide on the floor and joining your collection of 'toys'. He rises from the chair and gently guides your back against the desk. His hands trace the contours of your body, scarcely concealed by the remaining clothes he didn't ripped apart. His touch eventually lands on your hands, leading them to his face. His colorless eyes delve into yours, restraining unspoken feelings in the air, akin to words on the verge of being uttered. Relinquishing your gaze, his lips caress your ears, whispering his anguish.
"Tell me why you're so eager to go there when you can stay here with me."
Running your fingers through his lengthy ebony hair, lazily gathered in a disheveled bun, you pull his head in front of yours. Removing the hairpin securing his hair, you let it cascade down, framing both of your faces.
"Freedom, Attention, Love, Entertainment... All guides are driven by their desires."
Your thumb glides down his lips, parting them and revealing the piercing on his tongue.
"I'm no exception, Phanes."
The ancient being chuckles softly, his laughter resonating deeply. He allows you to lead him towards your lips, his own already parted and eager to savor the taste of yours once again.
"We both know you're more than that."
While it's true that at times you remind him of those bastards, he can't fault you for it as it's in your nature to act this way. He just needs to make sure you never consider returning to your roots. Despite being the divine one of both, he'll gladly worship your entirety to ensure you remain by his side.
"My sweet partner in crime~, why won't you let me take care of you ?"
You know that if he was given the chance, Phanes would drive you to the brink of insanity day and night, ensuring you forget everything else but him. Unfortunately for the man, you're not interested in such fate. He won't be the one to stop you from pursuing what you want.
"If you truly cared for me, you'll let me go."
At your words, the primordial one rolls his eyes and deliberately collapses on top of you, relying on you to carry his weight. Despite his slender build, you struggle to pry him off from yourself as his arms hugs you close. Unfortunately, all you manage to achieve is getting his hair out of your face. As he rests his head in the crook of your neck, he examines the hickeys he bestowed upon you as gifts from the previous night. Relishing in the fact he has matching ones on his own neck, he yelps in surprise when you tug on his hair and push him to your right. He grunts and sighs, his palm massaging his scalp, irritated with your behavior.
"Oh, yes. Why didn't I think of that earlier ? Allowing you to dive headfirst into an unfair game specifically designed to trap and torture your kind will truly show how much I value you."
You chuckle at his sarcasm, then hop off the desk to head towards your belongings.
"And here I thought you couldn't be funny."
The gentle sound of your laughter coaxes a shift in his grumpy demeanor, replaced with a heartfelt smile. He takes pleasure in the melodic tones and reciprocates with a contented hum. If he were to pick a favorite sound, it would undoubtedly be your laughter, closely followed by the lovely way you scream his name in ecstasy. Yet, his grin quickly vanishes when he realizes what you're holding. Closing the distance in the blink of an eye, he tries to snatch the small device from your grip. You skillfully dodge his attempts, refusing to let him have his way. Seizing his hand, you twist it with a resounding crack, forcing him to drop to his knees.
"Isn't this fascinating ? That such itty-bitty trinket supposedly holds all the rights you wield over Teyvat. Must be so tiny because, you know, there's not much to brag about."
Having an idea of how you got it, he mentally scolds his shades for being too lenient with you. While you marvel at the tear-sized pearl, you remain oblivious to Phanes breaking into a nervous sweat. You might not grasp its usage yet, but he harbors no doubt that if he doesn't reclaim it soon, you'll figure it out eventually.
"I am the sole reason for Teyvat's current state. It's only thanks to me that those fools can enjoy their meaningless life."
He frees himself from your grasp, swiftly snatching back in place his wrist. Glancing up at you, he watches as you casually toy with the device, spinning it around with the chain and frame-like ornement keeping it secure.
"Says the one who prefers to live in isolation while 'his' world steadily erodes itself after each little 'cycles' you make it goes through."
Before Phanes can respond, a loud whistle pierces the air, catching both your attention and his.
"Man, they got you there."
As the primordial one sees one of his shades making himself comfortable on the couch, munching on some junk food he found somewhere, he groans in annoyance.
"Ugh, Istaroth, don't you have better things to do ?"
The man appears to ponder for a moment as he reaches the bottom of his snack bag. Upon realizing the absence of treats, he deftly snaps his fingers, causing the bag to replenish itself as if it had never been touched. Propping his cheek on his fist, he grabs a handful of snacks, shoving them into his mouth and chewing audibly. Observing the snack bag mysteriously being propelled toward the trash can, he hastily gulps down the remaining food, sighing in disappointment. Nonchalantly inspecting his nails, he brushes off the snack's crumbs, seemingly unfazed by the threatening glare from his boss.
"Apart from watching the two of you acting like animals in heat ? Not really."
While you prefer to remain clueless about how long he's been lurking unnoticed, you see that Phanes doesn't share your point of view. Gesturing angrily at his subordinate, his eyes betray a poorly concealed anger as his lips curls in disdain.
"First off, how dare you disrespect our privacy. Secondly, get your mind out of the gutter, we're not fucking, it's just-"
Phanes comes to a sudden stop, taking in the situation before him. With him on his knees, perfectly positioned to reach your pelvis, one could easily think he's about to give you a head job. You chuckle at the sight of him swiftly rising to his feet and hastily adjusting his partially undone shirt. The shade appears unfazed by his boss's embarrassment, having witnessed and heard far worse.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I'm not paid enough to deal with your abandonment issues."
The dark-skinned man reaches for a bottle on the floor but decides against taking a sip of whatever's left after some consideration. While Phanes busies himself searching for the remainder of his clothes, you saunter over to the shade in a seductive manner. As the divine being catches sight of your approach, he curses under his breath and feigns interest in the bottle in his hand. He flinches when you place your hand on his shoulder, while the other begins to caress his cheek.
"Hands off, sweetheart. I've got a keen sense of hygiene, and I know you didn't wash those hands of yours."
He swats your hand away from his cheek and pinches the other as if discarding trash, tossing it aside. You hum and flop onto the couch beside him, eliciting a grunt from the shade.
"Such perfect timing, Istaroth."
"With all due respect, which is none, screw you."
Glancing at the jewel in your hands, a mischievous impulse seizes you. Tossing the pearl towards Phanes, you watch as he dives to the floor to catch it, exhaling with relief upon success. With his head conveniently positioned at the perfect height for you to lift it with your bare foot under his chin, you compel him to look at you.
"Would you mind persuading your boss to let me do as I please ?"
Taking advantage of your momentary distraction, the primordial one signals to his shade to refuse, mimicking a throat-slitting gesture. Despite being molded from Phanes' flesh, he lacks the soft spot his creator seems to have for you, preferring to keep a safe distance from your antics. Even if his boss were to order him to indulge your whims, he would most likely flat-out refuse.
"Hard pass, sweetheart."
You glance at the divine being sprawled at your feet, examining his little trinket for any cracks. You rise to your feet, causing him to lose his head support and bonk his chin on the unforgiving floor. As the pearl slips from his fingers and starts its daring escape, he's on it like a squirrel chasing a nut, scrambling to catch up. Unfortunately for him, you reclaim it before he has the chance.
"And here I was expecting you'll be the first to want me out of here~."
Istaroth tumbles on his fist and then reluctantly straightens up, a smile spreading across his face's features. Rising from the ground, Phanes approaches you. While his arms gently embrace you, his gaze remains fixed on the jewel you're holding.
"Wait a minute... You want to leave ?"
As his gold-like eyes sparkled with excitement, he might sound a tad too pleased to your liking but you'll gladly take whatever enthusiasm you can get. You firmly press your palm against the primordial one's face, preventing him from reclaiming the symbol of his authority. The sound of his nose yielding under your palm reaches your ears, evoking a high-pitched grunt from him, not that you cared. With determined strikes, you approach the shade, affectionately pinching his cheek as one might do with a child.
"Exactly ! How clever of you ! Good job on figuring it out !"
You grab his hand and swap positions, flopping onto the couch and sending him stumbling towards the god, who's still inspecting his crooked nose in a mirror after you intentionally crushed it. As Phanes shoots a disapproving glance at his subordinate without even turning his head, the shade doesn't get a chance to speak, only receiving a grunt of warning from his boss.
"Not. A. Chance."
With no further resistance, Istaroth raises his arms in surrender and turns around. Displeased with how quickly he gave in, you shoot him a disappointed stare as he flops back onto the couch next to you. Feeling uneasy under your accusing gaze, his eyes avoid yours, darting away.
"Listen, sweetheart. If he didn't listen to you, he certainly won't give a shit about what I say."
Every gaze converges on the desk when Phanes' phone, emitting a distinctive ringtone, disrupts the room, prompting a weary sigh from you. Despite your expectations that he would have gotten rid of it by now, it becomes evident that the voicemail you recorded for him long ago still remains. A cringe washes over you as you hear your own voice trashtalking Phanes to answer the call. Istaroth appears equally displeased, emitting a grunt and burying his face in one of the couch's pillows.
"-fucking bitch ! You better pick up your goddamn phone if you don't want me to shove it down your throat and making you gag like the slut you are-"
A breath of relief escapes you as the deity declines the call upon checking the caller's identity. Unfortunately, the relief is short-lived as the persistent dialler triggers the ringtone once more, demonstrating a fervent desire to speak with Phanes. Having no intention of talking with this particular individual, he forcefully crushes his own phone, ending the incessant ringing. Tossing the damaged device into a nearby bin, he gestures towards his personal notebook to remind him he will need a replacement. Istaroth grumbles into the pillow, clearly irritated but reluctantly acknowledge the directive.
"Noted."
With a tilt of your head, you silently inquire for more information from the god. Phanes, in response, takes your hand and gently guides you to stand, initiating a comforting embrace. Creating a bit of space between the two of you, he delicately retrieves the jewel from the tips of your fingers, all the while maintaining an unwavering gaze with you.
"Don't you fret about such a thing, [Name]. As for your heart's desire, let me take a little while to think it over, and I promise to return with a delightful response just for you. In the meantime, I must have a talk with Istaroth. Would you be a darling and wait for me outside? It won't be long, I assure you."
Skeptical, you emit a doubtful hum, not entirely swayed by his sickly sweet display. Contrary to his anticipations, you don't put up a fight and merely leave the room with an nonchalant wave of your hand. As the appartment's door closes, Istaroth rolls onto his back, casually inspecting his nails as he typically resorts to when boredom sets in.
"Perhaps, it's time for you to let them go."
Regret floods Istaroth swiftly as his blood begins to congeal within his veins, causing him to gasp for breath and emit painful grunts. Collapsing from the couch, he struggles to lift his gaze towards his creator, his vision blurring with the intensity of his suffering.
"And I think it's about time you remember your place. Don't delude yourself into thinking that I've forgotten how you used to help them sneaking around with their ex vessel while I was looking the other way."
The shade gasps for air, sensing his body liberated from the torturous grip Phanes had on it. Coughing, his fist clenches as he swallows down any words that might further sour the mood of his creator. Over time, he has grown indifferent to such torment, losing the will to care or worry about his condemned immortal existence. While there is no hope left for him, there's still a chance for you to embrace the freedom he yearns for. Unknown to the primordial one, he is determined to help you achieve that.
"On the subject of discussion, I better mention this before it slips my mind."
Kneeling down, Istaroth keeps his head bowed, concealing the faint smile playing on his lips. Don't waste the opportunity he's granting you, because even he recognizes that time is running thin.
"Asmoday got killed."
Upon learning the demise of one of his shades, Phanes seizes his subordinate by the neck, pulling him up to his own eye level. Hindered by the contrast in height, Istaroth struggles to breathe, his feet flailing in the air as his creator seems to blame him for the distressing news.
"And by who ?"
Baring his teeth in response to the pain he endures, Istaroth chuckles drily as he struggles to breath.
"I believe- that the fourth descender- actively searching his lost guide within our quarters- is enough of an answer-."
A heavy silence falls upon the room, the air thick with tension. Istaroth's feeble attempt at breathing gradually fade as his creator's grip tightens around his neck. Shortly after, the only audible sound for the shade becomes the echoing reverberation of his own heartbeat in his ears. With adrenaline coursing through him, he looks in horror at the wide and contemplative eyes of his master, engulfed in anger prompted by memories from a distant era. An abrupt gasp resonates as the shade is released, collapsing at Phanes's feet. His heart pounds wildly, eyes wide with fear as his body trembles under the lingering tension.
"You're fired."
As the apartment door slams shut, Istaroth gradually allows his nerves to settle.
"Hourray... vacations."
˚ ✦ . . ˚ . . ✦ ˚ . ★⋆.
. ˚ * ✦ . . ✦ ˚ ˚ .˚ . . ˚ . ✦
"Well, look who it is ! The one and only [Name]. Still on a leash, I presume ? I guess some things never change."
Glancing at the dame lounging on your left, flaunting her arms on the rail, she grins with a wickedness that could make gods blush. You emit a dismissive grunt and slump against the fence, both hands shielding your eyes briefly before giving your face a vigorous wipe, as if hoping to erase her existence. Unfortunately for you, she has no intention of leaving you be. Even though you wish you hadn't, you've mastered recognizing her bewitching crimson gaze, no matter the vessel she assumes. Before you stands Valefor, one of your fellow guides fueled by an insatiable thirst for power. It's not that you despise her more than the others, she's simply an unnecessary pain in the ass right now. Given her impatience, you opt to ignore her until she decides to leave on her own. No need to make a fuss over someone undeserving of such attention.
"Come on, lighten up ! That's not how you should treat your best friend~."
After a nudge from her elbow, you grab your drink and navigate the mezzanine alongside the fortunate few selected players. The sight of their camaraderie before the competition sickens you. Guides, by their very nature, don't blend seamlessly. They never have, possessing too much pride for such alliances. True friendships among them are scarce. Typically, collaborations are brief, driven by mutual benefits before one inevitably betrays the other.
As you weave through the crowd, you notice flickers of recognition in the eyes of some attendees, coupled with hushed comments. Despite the revival of unpleasant memories under their scrutinizing gazes, you maintain your pride, holding your head high. You don't hesitate to reciprocate their side glances, forcing them to avert their eyes. As you head toward a more secluded area of the reception room, you notice Valefor trailing after you, engaging in a few greetings with others along the way.
"Wait- Listen, I really need to talk to you, alright ?"
You sigh at her persistence and come to an abrupt stop, causing her to bump into you. Seizing her wrist, you pull her into one of the VIP rooms and throw her inside, making her stumble before finding her balance. Unfolding a small piece of paper, you ignite it, strange symbols manifesting in the air with a golden hue. Running your fingers together, you cast a brief glance back at the frozen crowd before shutting the curtains of the room. Valefor watches in amazement as the curtains defy the laws of physics, their movement ceasing once you release them.
"Time stopping, uh ? Neat. Is it a little trick from one of your newfound friends ?"
Settling onto one of the cushions, you take a sip of your drink and dismissively ignore her comment.
"I was told by Istaroth that you were advised to maintain a low profile. Guess it was too complicated for a meathead like you."
Taking residence on a couch opposite you, she flops onto it like a toddler and begins playing with the electrical device that allows the couch to transition from a sitting position to a reclining one. Despite of the unsettling noise, you only angrily sip on your drink, at least for now. You're confident that someday you'll get the chance to annoy her in return.
"I'm a guide, I do things my way. Anyway, the little birdie didn't say much about what all the fuss is about."
After finishing your drink, you spit out a small gem resembling a pearl but shaped like a tear, retrieving it from your tongue. At this sight, Valefor mutters a quiet "gross" under her breath before recognizing what you're holding. As you place it on the table, the guide shifts position, perching at the edge of the couch with a broad smile on her face.
"Holy. Fucking. Shit. You're fucking nuts, you know that ?"
You're not crazy enough to snatch the real deal from one of the most powerful gods and keep it for yourself. The little act you staged earlier was merely a ruse to make him believe you'd attempted to steal it and coax him into doing what you wanted. Unfortunately for him, you knew he'd never give in to your demands. That's why you had Istaroth retrieve it for you, but from a far away future. And this is the one you're showcasing now, although she doesn't need to be privy to that detail.
"Phanes expects me to follow his rules, but I couldn't care less about what he wants. So, here's the deal. I'll hand over the little trinket, and in return, you use it to send me to Teyvat."
Doubtful as she should be, or you might have lost all hopes for her, she squints before bringing her face closer to it for a better look. When she glances back up at you, she raises an eyebrow, sensing that something is amiss.
"Why not just use it yourself to get there directly?"
You scornfully scoff and regard the jewel with disdain.
"You think I haven't tried ? It recognizes the one trying to use it, and unfortunately, it only listens to that slut. Even Istaroth couldn't get it to submit to him."
From what she knows, you're more of a whore than he'll ever be, but she refrains from mentioning it.
"And what makes you think I can when not even a shade could ?"
Well, you didn't have much of a choice to begin with. Even though seeking help from one of your kind implies you've hit a low point, you won't allow her to mock you.
"It's a bit of a gamble, but I figured someone with your abilities could tame this little thing. Or is your desire for power nothing more than a joke ?"
As her eyes twitch, you know you've won. There's nothing more effective than challenging a guide to get them to do what you want.
"Deal. But I'd like to ask a question before."
Intrigued about what she might ask, you tilt your head slightly as a silent approval for her to proceed.
"At the very least, was he good in bed ?"
A smirk plays across your face. You hate to admit it, but he's got some skills when it comes to giving pleasure. Not that you'll vocalize it, though.
˚ ✦ . . ˚ . . ✦ ˚ . ★⋆.
. At the same time ✦ . . ✦ ˚ ˚ .˚ . . ˚ . ✦
In one of the storage rooms within the same complex building, an elderly woman joyfully dances to classic hit that was popular in her time. Unfortunately, her little dance session is abruptly interrupted when a star-shaped portal unexpectedly materializes, tearing through the fabric of reality and remaining open long enough for its creator to tumble into the small room, dislodging multiple boxes in the process. Having served as a janitor for the company that owns the building for quite some time, she has grown accustomed to the unusual events that tend to unfold, allowing her to remain unfazed by the recent occurrence. With a frown directed at the spilled cleaning supplies, she removes her large music headset and exhales in mild irritation.
"Really ? This is the end of my shift."
The woman with platinum hair grunts in pain as she slowly rises, her eyes fixed on the prominent wound in her belly, her hand barely covering it. Growing irritated by the raspy voice of the janitor, she flicks her hand, silencing the elderly woman's chatter. The janitor's eyes lose their spark, becoming dull and lifeless, even though she's still breathing.
Limping her way out of the storage room, the injured woman curses under her breath. She loathes the fact that this puny descender caught her off guard, and she vows to ensure it never happens again. But for now, her priority is to get to Phanes. She needs to warn him that a greater threat is looming.
"Asmoday, don't you look terrible."
Disregarding her fellow shade, she attempts to walk past him, only to be halted by a hand on her shoulder. She hisses in pain and bats away Istaroth's hand, her golden eyes cautioning him not to mess with her, even in her weakened state. With an expression of utter disgust, he wipes the blood from his skin, staining his handkerchief, then meticulously inspects his nails for any lingering traces.
"Not that I give a shit, but you might want to consider changing styles. Let's be real here honey, red just ain't your thing."
Not in the mood to get caught up in her colleague's petty quarrel, she limps down the corridor, leaning on the wall for support and leaving gory and bloody marks in her wake. Hearing a snap of fingers, she grunts as she finds herself back next to Istaroth. Noticing the choke marks on his neck and the burnt skin causing his veins to protrude, Asmoday returns the animosity with a venomous retort.
"Have you seen yourself, asshole ? You look like shit that has been stepped on."
The shade dismisses her comment with a shrug as he gazes upward, the corridor lights flickering as if on the verge of fading completely.
"Well, that's what happens when you piss off our big guy upstairs."
Feeling a bit unsettled upon learning their master's sour mood, Asmoday glances at her fellow shade, puzzled about why he's acting like it's the best day of his life. It's been a while since she's seen him so genuinely joyful and carefree, almost seeming out of character. As he looks down at her while she coughs up a little blood, she can feel shivers going down her spine. A cheerful Istaroth is an unpredictable one.
But beyond fear, it unnerves her to see the typically grumpy god sporting such a crappy grin.
"Oh, please. You really thought he'd cut you some slack because you decided to wake up with a dick between your legs ?"
"And yet, you believe that playing the obedient lapdog will save your ass. I wonder who's the delusional one here."
As he peeks at one of the watches on his wrist, his smile tightens slightly. Confused about what he might be expecting, Asmoday's senses sharpen as the building begins to rumble. Glancing at her fellow shade, she realizes it's not just any ordinary earthquake.
"You didn't, you fucking pigeon."
Assuming a fighting stance, Asmoday grits her teeth to push through the pain as more blood seeps from her wound. It's solely due to her powers that she can still draw breath after losing so much fluids. Despite knowing she's not capable of defeating him in her current condition, even with his own bruises, she refuses to meet her end at the hands of a treacherous traitor like him.
"Oh, but I did. Though you're giving me too much credit. I simply distracted the infatuated fool with a threat he couldn't overlook."
The wounded shade struggles to comprehend why he would betray them after all this time. While she understands his disdain for Phanes and anything associated with him, and acknowledges that time holds no significance for him, she still wonders why he would sacrifice everything for you.
"Why go such lenght for them ? They're just a guide."
Istaroth's smile dims slightly as the lights in the corridor begin flickering once more. Glaring down at Asmoday, the shade shows no hesitation as he has already made his decision.
"You see, as for now, Phanes believes you're six feet under. Wouldn't want to disappoint him, now would we?"
With a snap of his fingers, Asmoday collapses to her knees, gradually turning to ashes with a betrayed look in her eyes. Brushing off the remaining dust from his pants, Istaroth hopes that she'll appreciate the scene reminiscent of Hiroshima back in 1945. He hadn't anticipated her survival after what that descender did to her, she's definitely tougher than she appears. Snapping out of his thoughts, he stumbles as the entire building trembles once more. Chuckling, he rejoices in your success.
˚ ✦ . . ˚ . . ✦ ˚ . ★⋆.
. A little earlier ✦ . . ✦ ˚ ˚ .˚ . . ˚ . ✦
Inspecting his bloodied weapon, Aether pays no heed to the bodies of the guards who attempted to halt him. Displeased with the fact that the weapon you blessed him with is dirtied by the blood of nobodies, he proceeds to meticulously clean it. Though not entirely satisfied with the results, he glances at the neon loosing their brightness. In the darkness, he assumes a fighting stance, prepared to slay anything in his path.
As the lights flicker back to life, none of the guards' bodies remain to the eye, only the slender figure of the man, seemingly waiting. The cold neons accentuate his thin face and well-nourished black hair flowing along his body. His silver eyes, almost devoid of color, scrutinize him up and down in a judgmental manner.
"You should not be here."
With chills coursing down his spine, Aether takes a step back and tightens his grip on his sword. With just one sentence, Aether realizes that he's facing something far greater than the shade he fought to reach this point. Even if Aether can feel he's at a disadvantage, he's not one to back down. Unfortunately for him, he fails to grasp that this man isn't merely annoyed by his presence in his domain. For he had become the target of all the primordial one's frustrations and anger, he should consider himself lucky he's still able to breathe.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you."
In the midst of preparing to strike, Aether is stunned by the sudden disappearance of his sword. Startled, he lifts his head to find the man's face mere inches from his own. With a defiant tilt of his head, Aether faces the towering man head-on. Swiftly reaching for a spare knife at his belt, he lunges forward with his weapon. Yet, he staggers forward as the blade slices through empty air, the man vanishing in a blink. Surveying his surroundings, Aether notices that all exits have vanished, leaving the room illuminated solely by a solitary neon light above. Alert, Aether startles as a cold whisper brushes against his ear, sending a shiver down the blond boy's spine.
"You could hurt yourself."
Glancing back, Aether takes a close look at the necklace adorned with a small jewel around his neck. Unable to shake the familiar feeling he gets from the man, he scrutinizes his features while searching for any apparent weakness.
"You remind me of someone."
The man scoffs, straightens his back, and puts some distance between him and Aether. While he kows that the descender is simply dragging out the conversation to buy time, Phanes decides to indulge him. Being quite picky about his conversational partners, he isn't normaly the type to engage in small talk with his enemies. However, he supposes he can make an exception for this one.
"Humph, do I ?"
Left with no more weapons to spare, Aether clenches his fists and attempts to think of a way to breach his opponent's defense. Sometimes, nothing works better than a little provocation.
"I know they're here. And I need to talk with them."
"Oh, you won't, not on my watch."
Aether charges towards the man, poised to strike him down. Just as he's about to land a blow, the man dissipates into black sand upon impact, causing the descender to tumble and fall to the floor. Confused as to why the tiles has transformed into the same sand the man turned into, the blond traveler is left in shock as the scenery completely changes. Emerging in a boundless black desert bathed in the light of three moons against a starless sky, he fights to regain his footing.
"How did it feel ?"
As the man's voice echoes through the air, Aether begins to panic, finding himself getting pulled into quicksand. Unfortunately, the more he struggles to escape, the further he sinks. The moons high in the sky appear to mock him, as if he's to blame for his predicament. Taking a final breath before being completely submerged, the descender has no time to react as he suddenly falls into what seems like an endless void. However, it isn't truly limitless as he swiftly touches the bottom, landing on his back.
"To be unwanted."
Gritting his teeth together at the pain, Aether refuses to give up and strengthens himself once again. Observing the new scenery, his eyes widen upon seeing you in the distance. With his first step, a crack forms at his foot and extends towards you. As he starts to run in your direction, shattering the stone-like floor like thin ice, you only move farther away, leaving him alone in this hellish environement.
"Not good, does it ?"
With the temperature rising, the floor finally gives up under his weight, causing him to fall once again. Using his broken wings to somewhat cushion his fall, he manages to land on his feet.
"I get it, you know. Out of all, I might be the one closest to understanding what you're going through."
Observing the fire ravage the lands around him, a strange itch stirs within him as he starts to recognize the scenery. It's an itch he cannot scratch, only indicating that something is wrong. As screams resonate, he remains paralyzed, unable to break down at the sight before him.
"Nowhere to call home."
He witnesses his sister weeping over thousands of corpses, her gut-wrenching screams breaking his heart. Before he can take a step in her direction and call out to her, her head unnaturally snaps 180 degrees. Under Lumine's hateful glare, he begins to notice the clammy sensation on his hands, his horror growing as he realizes they are smeared with blood. He shuts his eyes tightly and pounds his head repeatedly, desperately trying to convince himself that the man is merely toying with his mind.
"You know, it took me a while to discover what was going on."
Upon opening his eyes, Aether discovers that he is now bound to a chair, the furniture itself constricting his hands behind his back. Before him, Phanes lounges in a comfortable seat, casually playing with the shattered intertwining of fate that symbolized the connection between you and the renowned traveler. Upon realizing this, the descender struggles against his restraints. Yet, as he attempts to vocalize his desire to reclaim it, no sound escapes his mouth.
"They hid you well. However, once the secret was out, all they could do was to plead on your behalf, begging me to spare your life."
Seeing that his captive had much to express, Phanes impulsively snaps his fingers, only to regret it instantly as Aether unleashes a furious scream that pierces his ears.
"You're the reason they abandoned me- !!"
The primordial being hastily snaps his fingers once more, brushing his forehead to alleviate the headache induced by just one sentence. Truly, this descender possesses the ability to irritate him like no one ever has, and he considers himself a patient man. Disregarding the claims of the blonde traveler, he dismissively waves his hand, prompting the furnitures to move out of his way as he approaches Aether.
"No, no, no, no, I didn't do anything. You see, I merely allowed them to toy with you. Ultimately, it was solely their choice to discard you."
Watching Aether squinting his eyes, revealing his lack of faith in the god's words, Phanes laughs mockingly at the sight. It's pitiful to see the descender place so much trust in you, as if you could truly be concerned with his well-being. Despite the man's assertions, Aether believes there must be a valid reason why you had to leave him, which is why he is determined to find you. You wouldn't have casted him aside simply out of boredom, would you?
"There's much about guides that you seem unaware of... Quite surprising, considering where you come from."
Feeling the release of his restraints, Aether is abruptly pulled to his feet as the room is swept away by an unknown force. Upon opening his eyes after the wind dies down, he finds himself up in the sky, with floating pillars adorning the scenery. As the setting evokes memories of the place where he first engaged in combat with the sustainer of the heavenly principles, a bad chilling sensation runs down his spine as something seizes his shoulders.
"You're free to believe me or not, but I understand how difficult it is to live in someone's shadow. First, your sister, then, [Name]. Perhaps it's time for you to learn how to be yourself."
As the god takes a melancholic tone towards the end of his words, he snaps out of whatever memory he was recalling. Aether, still unable to move on his own, observes a door materializing out of nowhere before swinging open, emitting a bright flashing light.
"Whatever, who am I kidding ? You never learn from your mistakes."
Stepping aside, Phanes waves with a slight fake smile on his lips.
"Oh and, you might want to start running."
Glancing behind him, Aether witnesses the stone slabs breaking and tumbling down. Rising to his feet, he makes a run for it. With his wings shattered from his previous journey that was intended to be the final one, he can only rely on his legs to reach the door. Leaping through it, his consciousness fades away.
'Resetting complete'
...
{Words : 7387}
Heya, finally i managed to post part 2 ! Sorry to keep you all waiting. I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did while writing this.
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Game Pile: The Beginner's Guide, Midjourney, and Praying to Coda
The Beginner's Guide, Midjourney, and Praying to Coda
Watch this video on YouTube
This is a rebuild and expansion of my article on The Beginner’s Guide from back in 2018, with a newly developed thesis about authenticity and access to artists.
And below is the script I worked from!
The Beginner’s Guide
The Beginner’s Guide is an interactive storytelling video game created by Davey Wreden under the studio name Everything Unlimited Ltd. The game was released for Linux, OS X, and Windows on October 1, 2015. The game is Wreden’s follow-up to the critically praised The Stanley Parable, his previous interactive storytelling title that was initially released in 2013.
The game is narrated by Wreden and takes the user through a number of incomplete and abstract game creations made by a developer named Coda. Wreden challenges the player to try to come to understand the type of person Coda is from exploring these spaces in a first-person perspective. Wreden has stated the game is open to interpretation: some have seen the game as general commentary on the nature of the relationship between game developers and players, while others have taken it as an allegory to Wreden’s own personal struggles with success resulting from The Stanley Parable. When the game sold, a reviewer – at least one, but I can’t find records of more than that – made a bit of a stir by suggesting that the fiction presented in the game is true, and that therefore, the game was built out of stolen material, and gamers buying it could hypothetically, get it refunded if they felt that were in any kind of moral quandrary.
This is, as best I understand it, the ‘story’ of The Beginner’s Guide, the entity in media, the confluence of reporting and reactions to a game. And now, in that same disjointed way of The Beginner’s Guide, I want to tell you about s1m0ne.
S1M0NE, stylised however you wanna, is a 2002 Al Pacino movie about a dude who creates a virtual actress. That’s not even how the movie goes in full, it’s way more involved than that and it includes bestiality, and it has this nasty kind of undercurrent about the fundamentally exploitable nature of women in media spaces. It’s an interesting film.
I didn’t say good.
Anyway, the thing is S1M0NE’s central premise is the virtual actress, Simone. In-movie, she doesn’t exist. To reinforce this, she isn’t credited as having an actress. The movie does do an extensive cgi sequence, showing Simone being constructed digitally, but it was… let’s say it’s very 2002, and leave it at that. Anyway, a bunch of people including representatives from the Screen Actors Guild believed it and they started a fuss about it. I think. It’s hard to find sources about it now, but I remember a fuss.
I mean it stands to reason, if you’re a union you want to oppose things that hurt the interest of your members, and that’s a perfectly valid concern to be worried about around about now with things like deep learning technology allowing us to transplant faces and details across multiple media works and the complex relationship between motion capture and voice actor and fully integrated action – like, if you weren’t aware, motion captured faces are not a 1:1 acting thing, they’re a structure for animators to work from. Gollum is not ‘Andy Serkis is amazing,’ they’re Andy Serkis and the fifty people doing all the rest of the work are amazing, and yes, Andy’s ability to disappear into the role and do the physical acting element is impressive. That’s a real conversation.
But it’s not the conversation they were having in 2002.
There were some people, in late 2002, who genuinely thought that an Al Pacino movie with Winona Ryder and a budget of $10 Million had successfully replicated the human form with complete authenticity, and that the much cheaper and easier tack of using an actor wasn’t more likely. Then they thought it’d involve, y’know, pig-doinking.
Simone was played by a Canadian actress, and the movie otherwise glanced over its very interesting questions of identity and artificiality and technology to instead tell a story about a dude who was very, very anxious about his inability to control women. The real story of the movie, then, is less about what the movie wanted to talk about and much more about the fact some people couldn’t tell where the movie was fiction and where it was fact. The boundary of the diegesis confused people, and there were some critics who were genuinely unsure of how confident they could be about dismissing the fears of people who thought the end of actors had come.
This comparison is because, yeah, it’s kinda stupid that videogame criticism was duped into believing that maybe an author stole all their work and then recorded themselves having a nervous breakdown then edited that nervous breakdown and cleaned up the audio and packaged it up and sold it on Steam without at any point considering that the art was stolen, it’s not like videogames are unique in this regard. We have a history of people not knowing the boundary between art and real and sometimes, when people play with that, especially in areas of new technology, people make mistakes. But also, like, yeah, we are now living in a time when the idea of ‘someone tried to sell entirely stolen assets on steam for $15’ isn’t even a joke or punchline, it might just be a fact of a thing that happens regularly.
As a game experience, The Beginner’s Guide is fine. I like it as a game because it needs the medium of games to make sense, complete with the idea of incomplete games and the way games are made not from a coherent single point but a sort of constantly exploding set of interconnected steps. Like, you couldn’t make this as a book because this isn’t how a book would look when you’re exploring its dismantled bits. The Beginner’s Guide, if it were a book about books and making books, would look like collected pieces of paper in different hands, with a sort of formalising hand over it all.
Funnily enough it’d look a bit like the book of Genesis.
(There’s a long reach of an academic poke)
It’s a perfectly interesting work about imposter syndrome and emotional boundaries and creative processes and a lot of other things you can see in your own inkblots. It’s an artistic piece that tells you a narrative in a really blunt way, but it uses its framing to create a blurred diegesis. It uses real world markers to confuse you about the actuality of its narrative, or it did at the time.
There’s a forking challenge here; on the one hand, I want to berate videogames, as a culture, for being so woefully ill-equipped to deal with meta art as to be convinced that the narrative presented in The Beginner’s Guide was actually real and have at least one actual journalist be so unsure of the reality of the presented narrative as to hedge their bets and mention seemingly unironically that refunds for this game were an option. On the other hand, it’s not like we’re drowning in meta-aware fiction and a cultural discourse that can treat this kind of thing seriously. Since the Stanley Parable and then Beginner’s Guide, the most recent big ‘oh everyone talks about it’ meta-game in my space has been Undertale, and I hate that.
Since the Beginner’s Guide’s original appearance, things have moved on a bit, and particularly, the word ‘parasocial’ has fallen to the common voice. People with platforms use the term to describe the behaviour of people who don’t have platforms, and the people without platforms follow their word, and now ‘parasocial’ has a sort of loose use around it, the idea that it’s pretty much just anything that annoys you about other people on the internet, especially if they’re talking about media. Then we got ‘plagiarism,’ which is, I understand, ‘mostly vibes.’
I want to compare Davey Wreden to Fred Gallagher, the author of Megatokyo. Megatokyo if you’re not familiar with it, is a webcomic that started in August 2000 and has never officially stopped updating since. It’s updated twice this year, which puts it ahead of the same time last year. What Megatokyo is about is not important here, what is is that Megatokyo was enormously succesful, incredibly popular, and has never once had an update schedule its authors were happy with.
I wrote a lot about Megatokyo last year and I still think that article is worth restructuring and presenting in some kind of long form read way. In the end my conclusion about it is that I don’t think ill of Fred Gallagher as a creative, as much as I think that he got to suffer a unique kind of problem that only capitalism can cause, where you can be too successful to handle your own success. That is, both Wreden and Gallagher made something that led to people having assumptions and expectations that don’t make any sense, because the value of what they created was associated with capital, which is to say, money, and rent, and food.
There’s this idea we’re all circling around right now on a platform that is probably by now mostly procedurally generated – not just the stuff made in the past few years by tools like Chatgpt and the midjourney thumbnails and all, but rather that the algorithm of youtube made a lot of people make media in a way that shaved the non-formulaic parts off it, until there was nothing but hash tag con tent. The stuff you like is a small egg floating on a vast and turbulent sea of piss. It’s now that people care a lot about a kind of authenticity from work which separates it from what I’m going to call Generative Media, and which other people are going to insist on calling ‘AI.’
The conversation around generative art is a real struggle sometimes because it feels like sometimes when people are talking about ‘ai art bros’ they’re dealing with a small pool of obnoxious people, and sometimes I can even tell the specific dickhead they mean. It’s Shad, it’s Shad, so often they mean Shad, and yeah sure, Shad sucks. But the conversation around generative media is so often structured in these really weird ways that seems to imply low-quality images don’t exist until generative media gets involved. That nobody cranks out bullshit, or that art is a transferrable property of a human agent, or that in the great days of the internet, nobody’s using pictures they didn’t draw to illustrate articles they wrote. In this very video I’m using gameplay footage from a game I don’t own, and the reason you’re not seeing the footage from S1m0ne to reinforce that point is because a robot would get mad at me and block the video if I did.
I’m even in defensive crouch saying this stuff here. Look: I think generative media tools have applications, particularly in zero-value situations. Nobody in the world is having their pocket picked if I copy art of Rin Matsuoka and use that for my D&D character. Similarly, someone with less image editing skill than mine using generative media to generate pictures of things they weren’t going to pay for in the first place are not hurting anyone unless you believe in a literal cosmic value of these things. In that case, you’re basically just like the generative media people who are functionally, praying to chat gpt. If you’re rapid prototyping, if you’re making a game and need temporary assets to give yourself tools to build around, if you need a powerpoint presentation for class, all of this stuff represents no lost value. This is a perfect place to put generative media. I’m sure purists will disagree, and I just do not care. But there’s my stance: Generative media is an interesting toy that should be used as such, and if it can replace your job, your job probably sucks and you should be doing something cooler and better that people value more. That’s a problem with jobs, and how we give people money to feed themselves, not the software that generates anime tiddy on demand.
Now, here is where things get tangled up.
It seems to me that generative media is being attacked right now by people I generally like and agree with on most things, because of very high concept, seemingly contradictory positions. People who dislike copyright law busting it out to attack midjourney, and people who hate Disney praying for them to fight Google. Ideas about the inherent nobility of art and stick figure illustrations being better than generative media on websites dedicated to sharing unsourced artworks of definitely not stick figures. People don’t have reasons that make a lot of sense for why these things should not be tolerated, but they are very real about their emotional hatred of them. Which, you know, given the people who defend generative media, makes sense, a lot of those people suck and are incredibly obnoxious. Particularly it seems a lot of them are the losers of the NFT wave who are trying to get in ground level as ‘prompt engineers’ as if the ecosystem they’re entering will value them at all.
One of the most sterling arguments against generative media, and one I personally like, is the idea that these tools represent potential precarity for artists who are already struggling to pay for things like, again, rent and food. Potential, in that, largely commission-based artistic survival under capitalism seems to be a bit of a dice roll as it is. My solution to this is not to shame people who weren’t going to pay for art for failing to be able to support a commission economy they weren’t partaking in in the first place, though, it’s things like massive overhauls of income inequality and universal basic income, but also I can understand how my idea is hard and yelling at strangers in hyperbolic language is really easy.
The pressure that created the Beginner’s Guide is also the pressure that meant someone talking about an artistic work of anxiety media couched it in terms of fucking refunds so people didn’t feel they’d ethically mis-stepped by buying fiction about exploitation, a thing that nobody otherwise does, and it’s the same pressure that means ‘someone is making cheap bad art with an exploitative method’ is a threat to the livelihood of a small number of people who have managed to make an extremely precarious living doing art in the first place. As if money is why artists make art, as if we aren’t all struggling in exploitative systems, as if the existence of bland corporate art pumped out in huge troves to pad resume drawers isn’t
Since these past few years, writing academically, a habit I’ve gotten into is always trying to attribute where I get ideas for. Sentences that are referring to someone else’s idea, with the little note of ‘hey, this is that person, at this date.’ It’s a thing that can create the habit of also starting sentences with ‘Wreden says this’ or ‘Gallagher’s work shows this,’ which creates in casual conversation an impression of a very specific kind of authorial access. Certainly here on Youtube, I don’t want to give you the impression because I’m pointing to their work that I can tell you what they think or feel. The idea that I can connect to these authors through a particularly big brained reading of their work is similar to how Christians think they can read god’s mind because they read the book of Daniel, and like, Fred Gallagher exists.
I don’t know what Davey Wreden was thinking about the Beginner’s Guide when he made it. Even if I asked him now, I won’t get an answer, I’ll get the answer of what he remembers of what he was thinking, which may be the same thing but can’t necessarily. I can try, and that’s a way to get at this authenticity, but it’s not a way to guarantee it.
The Beginner’s Guide is still an interesting game to me, because the conversation around it, and around ownership of work, and of unsourced material and exploiting artists hasn’t changed that much but all the people engaging in it have gotten new things to have to try and fit into their models. We are no closer to Coda.
Those opening paragraphs of this article are from from wikipedia.
Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!
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