Overboard

>>2796 →
>you draw your blade, in your hands it becomes a flash that reaches its targets before gravity even gains a nanometer of advantage on you
>the fruits don't know they were hit, the gleam of the blade illuminates the mountaintop like a star-shaped lighthouse, which disappears the next instant.
>you lower your weapon, and the attack squad is soon reduced to tiny cubes ready to be served, the bomb flew free, as the only remaining threat, and with decision, you do a backward jump with your leg extended to take care of it
>your body does an ascending crescent kick, your instep launches like lightning onto the lightning rod and connects.
>but something goes wrong...
>at the slightest contact, the bomb cracks, releasing beams of light like a disco ball, and then it explodes with the blinding brightness of the sun.
>since you are a robot, there is no immediate pain, but your indicators understand the violent pressure increase that pushes you powerfully against the ground, embedding you in the rock as if you were making snow angels
>your kick resulted in a shot to the foot. Once the light stops blinding you, you discover that your attempts to avoid the gunpowder have left you covered in soot.
"Hehehe..."
>a laugh. Perhaps mocking, weak, and filtered through old age, breaks the peace of the valley
Sensei: ohh, Lobelto-san... Don't you remember? You shouldn't hit the bombs
>it was the sensei himself, the first fruit ninja
Sensei: you're still a little green... but your skill with the sword is unmistakable... Cleo... That you are ready...
>then, the sensei turns his back to you
Sensei: follow me please
>the sensei walked, and guided you through the city that had a fruit theme and stuff, until you reached the town hall, the origin of all evil, of control, of the Great Fruither, Big Brother
Sensei: it's your moment young Fruit Ninja™... Are you ready to face the fruits and liberate the world?
>wow, that was fast, as if the OP hadn't really thought anyone would send a piece to this, would you go face your destiny in the epic final battle? Or perhaps, you'd prefer to explore the city and waste time, because we like Dracula surfing

>>2794 →
>>2795 →
With an anon I'm enough, if Roberto dies laughing they can take his place kek

>>2798 →
>Shadab
jejeje bueno

Placid Sunday, just another morning. Her white sheet shimmered under golden rays, outlining the silhouette of the body she'd finally discovered last night. Her dreams—forgotten now—had been adorned by a vague sensation that allowed her to savor love as art. Things she experiences up close yet somehow elude her.

She wakes with the slowness the sun, so patient, grants her through caresses on her face. Her eyes open fully without delay; she slept well. The intense experience gifted her a pleasant lethargy. She gets up, resisting the urge to raise the blinds and let her eyes greet the landscape because she's naked.

"No one else is supposed to see this," her body seems to say, as she spins playfully toward the dresser.

She begins to dress. She has a big day ahead, and she'll live it beautifully. Rummaging through her clothes, she decides to embrace style—puts on navy blue high-waisted flared pants with a red belt, pairing them with a green tea-colored shirt with a pointed collar. She searches for a blazer too... only has one, floral.

"I love it."

She puts it on and looks in the mirror. She looks neutral... then dares to unbutton several buttons, exposing cleavage. The idea embarrasses her, but also liberates her. She smiles. Fixes her short hair... and now, finally, raises the blinds and opens the window...

The outside seems brighter than yesterday. Days in Steppenford are always a landscape. She loves the sun, adores it, can inhale the scent of morning. And release a sigh of satisfaction. Things were going to change, somehow.

"All future time is better."

That's what she believes. She turns from the window. Passes the painting with just a glance. She'll return to it later, with far more energy. Opens the door, and heads down for breakfast.

She passes through the kitchen, as lively as ever. Celia hums a sweet tune stuck in her head after passing once through a store playing music—a melody from another world, from an album with a beautiful blonde woman gazing at the sky. Life on Mars from Hunky Dory, by David Bowie

"Good morning, Mom!"

She exclaims, wanting to be seen.

>Celia
"Good morning, my li—"

She sees sternum, a little chest. Doesn't matter that they aren't mountains—she sees skin. Like how those crazy girls dress without a bra, that supposed new fashion trend making women clutch their chests.

"My God!"

Abby had already walked past by then, heading straight to the table where her father sat with a coffee cup, today's newspaper, waiting for the eggs and bacon that already smelled delicious.
>Abby
"Dad!" -she felt daring, she wanted to show her rebelliousness-

>Thomas
"Good morning, Abby."

He replied dryly, without taking his eyes off the newspaper. He was still thinking.

>Abby
"Daaad." -she doesn't give up- "What are you reading?"

>Thomas
"The newspaper."

>Abby
"Ahem..."

Celia comes out from behind, peeking nervously from the kitchen. She doesn't know what to say, she knows she should intervene, but at the same time, sticking her nose in would make them see Abby... like this.

"Look at me!"

Another sigh escaped the man. He lowered the newspaper, and his eyes almost popped out of their sockets when he saw his daughter with her breasts almost bare, like a harlot, smiling like an idiot while her hands separated from her body with palms wide open. As if saying 'this is me'.

>Thomas
"Abigail." -he said as he stood up- "Button that up and go put on a bra this instant!"

>Abby
"Huh?! But Dad-"

>Thomas
"SILENCE!" -Abby flinched slightly- "I won't let any daughter of mine dress like a... A... Whore." -he said, pointing-

>Abby
"..." -her eyes widened for a second- "..." -silence, she put on a normal face-

>Thomas
"..." -he breathed-

Abby lowered her gaze but not her defenses, she buttoned her shirt up to her neck, and went upstairs without saying anything. She had a lot to say, she thought, but nothing came out. She left, observed by Celia on her way, who looked at her with a sad face. Thomas slowly returned to his seat, the weight of his own words seemed to leave him not knowing where to look either. He took refuge in Celia's face, but she looked somewhat sad.

"..."

Better, he looked at the newspaper.

...

>Abby
"Is all I've done just being a whore?" -she asked the mirror as she put on her bra- "Is loving, perhaps, the conduct of a whore...?" -it hurt her to be pigeonholed with that word, maybe she would have been indifferent, but she felt that an insult from Dad hurt much more- "Woe is me... Father, why have you turned this beautiful morning into a tragedy?"

She felt like crying. She didn't, she didn't want to start the great day like this. She put on the same clothes, now with the shapes approved by her dad, and went downstairs again. She served herself some cereal, Mom had already served food to the rest. They were all seated, in a strange silence. Abigail ate with her head down, without any witty remarks. In silence.

(The silence is heavy.)

She was doing it on purpose, she wanted the silence to weigh more than anything else. Thomas couldn't help but glance at her from time to time, he didn't understand her. She looked melancholic, with downcast eyes and lips set in a calculated seriousness. And, ironically, the most uncomfortable one turned out to be Celia.
>Celia
"...Don't you want me to cook you something, sweetie? Are you really just having cereal?"

>Abby
(Nothing. Just cereal.)

She thinks it, doesn't want to speak.

>Thomas
"Answer your mother." –he commands–

>Celia
"C-carrie..."

>Abby
"..." –pauses mid-spoonful– "...no, nothing."

>Celia
sigh "You're sure?"

>Abby
"Nothing." –repeats, choosing the most uncomfortable word possible–

>Celia
"Hm..."

>Thomas
"Ja... Your loss." –they don't even look– "Eggs and bacon are the best." –Abby finishes the bite– "You don't even know how to eat something good." –Abby chews– "..." –mumbles–

>Celia
"Jaja..." –fakes a laugh at Thomas's comment to lighten the mood– "ehm... Dad." –tries to change the subject– "Did you watch anything interesting on TV last night...?"

And so they pass another while in nothingness. Until Thomas finally lets some of his resentment fade.

>Thomas
"Uh... don't you wanna go to Simulatron or...?"

>Celia
"Oh, great idea!" –exclaims, genuinely cheerful–

>Abby
"Nah..." –this time, genuine–

>Celia
"Oh..." –feels like she's been slapped down–

>Thomas
"What, no?"

Celia
"Who could it be?" –gets up, unwilling to miss a chance to get scammed, though she might score a new vacuum cleaner–

Celia/Thomas
"Oh!" / "What?" –one is surprised, the other also, but less pleasantly. Abby bolts down and runs to the door at the cry of 'I'll get it!'

Abigail stopped short before the wall stopped hiding her, then stepped out with a balletic lateral leap, full of grace, ending with hands at her sides as she finally saw who stood at the end of the hall.

"¡!" –a hesitation, like a choked guttural sound. A glottal stop. She straightened up and composed herself, flashing a smile at her grandmother for an instant before turning back to her teacher–

<Good morning, Abby.

"Good morning..."

Her words were like watercolors, activating a tone drenched in sighs, watered down by love. She runs a hand through her hair, adjusting it slightly without dropping the smile.

<I brought this. You left it at school yesterday, and I don't blame you, with everything that happened…

"Oh... Right. The morning was a Greek tragedy... But the ending was... hopeful."

(Tell him to just leave it there...)

She thought, since they lived in an area where they could easily leave the door open. That's what Abigail believed. But even if she didn't know, she walked down, with a better idea. She reached out and went for the doorknob, accidentally brushing Robin's hand

"Sorry..."
She was seeking contact. Her hand holds the bicycle. The closeness excites her, yet she prefers to step back a little—safe distance to talk to a police officer without interference (3 meters)—giving her hero a pleased glance.

"Thank you so much... You're very thoughtful. Quite the gentleman." -she flatters as much as she can-

<And I'm sorry.

"Huh?" -she's surprised- "And why on earth should you be sorry?" -alarm fills her, had she been deceived perhaps? Her world wobbles-

<I had to check your files to find out where you live.

Abby sighed at the privacy violation as if a truck’s weight had lifted from her shoulders. She now knows Robin is aware of her dust mite allergy, her home phone number, and of course, her address. Basic things in a relationship.

<I thought about going door to door asking, but I always get lost in the suburbs, everything looks so... similar.

"I understand." -she said, raising her gaze, with a silly smile that won't fade- "Monotony can be disorienting, confusing, and in a painting, almost dull." -almost, because while it would limit your creativity to repetition, redoing the same thing multiple times has its charm- "Don't apologize for that. Really. It's a very sweet gesture. That you went through the trouble... Shouldn't I be the one apologizing, perhaps? I'd ask Minerva right now."

She consulted the man because heaven and Rome were too far away. She's glad Robin knows where she lives. And from this situation, only one thing slightly saddens her: not knowing where he lives. So slightly, though, that it doesn't bother her, because she knows that if she keeps walking through the tunnel, in the end they'll be together and share everything. They're connected, they just need to move forward.

<Why don't you come in and talk more comfortably?

Abby's lips form a delicate circle from surprise, mirroring her teacher's. But she relaxes more quickly, breaking into a broad, almost mischievous smile as the grandmother invites him inside.

(I love you, grandma...)

<Don't even mention it! Abby, tell your mother to set another place at the table.

"Right away." -she turns with the bike, then glances over her shoulder- "Mom told me to ask for whatever you'd like for breakfast~ I'll get you a great breakfast." -she winks at him-

She walks. Crosses the doorway, turns once more.

"Sorry, I know clarifying this feels anticlimactic after what I just said. But I think I haven't made it clear enough: I want you to come in now. I don't like ambiguous scripts." -she lets out a little laugh, waiting for him to enter the house-

2/3
Keksito, this feels strangely politicized

a small conversation arose among parents seeing the fervor with which the girl rushed to answer the door. and it was already reaching its end, and of course, drawing conclusions.

>Celia
"maybe she was waiting for someone... special." -she admits it; her girl is growing up-

>Thomas
"she never told me anything about that." -he's less accepting-

and then, the little one enters the scene. walking with an entirely different air than when she left, intoxicated by a love that makes her smile, raise her finger, and speak with more sweetness than sugar.

>Celia
"abby!" -she calls out; thomas just stares, subjecting her to jealous scrutiny-

>Abby
"mother, please, make a little more room in the flavor of the morning! a chair, a plate, and serve your finest breakfast dish... for excess."

>Celia
"ah, yes my queen." -she gets up- "are you going to eat?"

>Abby
"it's for a guest, truth be told. the lie discarded." -she asked robin to wait before introducing him; she'd call him in as soon as she was done; thomas was already frowning-

>Celia
"oh!" -she's a bit delighted, feeling she was right... her daughter has fallen in love- "and who is it?" -she asks to see him-

>Abby
-looks behind her- "dear professor robin, please, come forward~"

and so, he steps forward into the spotlight. his presence shocks everyone in the room; celia's eyes fly open, horrified for a second; thomas crushes the newspaper as if witnessing a crime. robin, with his androgynous beauty that abby adores, was not without controversy in a conservative household.

>Celia
"i'll go cook."

she steps away. not knowing what to think, it takes her a second even to look properly and understand that her daughter isn't some sick deviant drawn to this long-haired man's delicate features. she must sort her thoughts; she'll make a grand breakfast for him... but she needs every second in the kitchen to recompose herself.

>Abby
"see? mother will make a breakfast beyond delicious—you can believe it. i'm as delicate with food as i am with painting. please, follow me." -she invites him to sit, leading him by the wrist, pours him some orange juice, and sits beside him-

thomas glares murder at the other man. struggling so his quick-trigger side doesn't make him draw immediately. abby gazes up at the professor with the same eyes she uses to admire art. and it enrages him. he doesn't know whether he's more upset by how the guy looks or by how his daughter looks at him—but it doesn't matter.

"well... i couldn't introduce you to mom. but... this is my grandpa josh." -points with her hand- "and how venerable he is. i respect him, even if he's from another era." -leans in to whisper- "but he doesn't want me to help him with that oatmeal he struggles to bring to his mouth. jiji"

>Thomas
"abigail!" -he scolds her for the closeness; she returns to her seat somewhat reluctantly, looks at her dad with mild discomfort, but decides to smile; the moment with robin is a balm for everything else-

>Abby
"he's my father, thomas. dad is a... ahem. agent."

>Thomas
"police."

>Abby
"ah. that's right. but he's one of the groovies, isn't he?"

>Thomas
"what was your name again?" -he asks the professor-
Robin!

"And what exactly did you come here for...?"

>Abby
"He brought me my bicycle. And later, we're going to the Simulatron together." —she just made that up—

>Thomas
"What?!?" —that catches him off guard, anger replaced by pure confusion and surprise at such a revelation—

Celia returns a little while later. She refills everyone's orange juice if it's gone below half. And she places before Robin a gorgeous plate: two eggs with runny yolks, pancakes topped with melted butter drenched in maple syrup, two large strips of bacon, and a large toast cut diagonally in half so it looks like two.

>Abby
"Thank you so much, Mom." —she's cheerful—

After that, she sits back down, with a somewhat nervous smile, yet more accepting.

>Celia
"Sorry for the wait... Did I miss anything?"

>Thomas
"Nothing..." —still staring at the guy— "hey. And you... 'Robin', right...?" —says the name with a mocking tone— "why the fuck don't you cut those filthy greasy locks like a real man?" —Abby is already frowning— "You're not one of those dirty queers, are you?"

>Celia
"Dear..." —gets tense—

>Abby
"I assure you he's not!" —raises a finger— "Professor Robin is... very masculine..." —her other hand wanders, and somehow reaches her professor's knee, gently caressing it, then his thigh—

>Thomas
"Oh yeah? Doesn't look like it to me. You know being a faggot is illegal, right?" I suppose back then it was illegal in nearly every state. Unless Steppenford happens to be one of the 4 states that had just legalized it, which would fuck up this dialogue lol "Don't wanna spend two years in a cell. Or do you? I've heard queers have a rough time in there—"

>Abby
"Dad!" —stops touching Robin abruptly—

>Thomas
"What? I was just asking."

>Abby
"You're embarrassing me... Professor Robin is..." —touches her heart, blushing— "special... to me..."

>Celia
"!!"

>Thomas
"..." —takes a deep breath, suddenly stands up— "I gotta go to work."

>Celia
"Dear—" —stands up too, but he was already gone. Celia sighs; there was nothing to do when he got like this... she sits back down—

>Abby
sigh of ugh what a drag "sorry about him... I'm afraid in the end, he's just another one of those cops..." —eyes closed, indignant—

>Celia
sad sigh "Abby..." —this girl...—

>Abby
"Anyway... Robin, this is my mom. Celia."

>Celia
"Pleasure to meet you..." —despite everything— "Abby really enjoys painting... I suppose that's something you taught her." —she says "painting"— "uh... thank you for that."

Abby always felt she had the talent, but she wouldn't discredit Robin's help.

"And..." —just making conversation— "what... ahem..." —wanted to ask what his intentions were with her daughter, but that didn't seem like the best word— "what kind of connection do you two have?"

Abby tenses up. That was a question she was extremely interested in. Meanwhile, some oatmeal spills onto Celia's blouse.

"Oh Dad... seriously, don't you want a little help with that...?"

3/3
Now I can finally rest in peace.
Thanks so much Steppenfoooord sorry for so little

>>2780 →
<David Stanford (Time: Indeterminate. Date: March, year 1973)
HP: 100/100
Energy: 50/50
Hunger: 20/20 - Thirst: 20/20
-Strength: 3
-Agility: 3
-Stamina: 3
-Luck: 2
Inventory
-Secret pockets 2/6
Truck keys
x17 Dollars
Spells:
-Eye of Resonance (Reads the soul imprint of beings like yourself. -2 energy per minute)
Techniques:
-Demonic Suction: Renders enemy unconscious for 6 hours. Enemy must be in a state of suggestion or weakness to succeed (Does not work on creatures too large)

Stepford
Static cuts the screen, a storm of snow encapsulated. Abe removes the semi-transparent panel and smacks the television. The image clears, but instead of showing two pixels of light, it displays a strange music video.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kjxSCAalsBE▾
You feel a tingling in your perineum. Something in the ether has changed. Maybe it's a message from the lower astral—omen of future blessing or warning of ill fortune?

Abe takes off his cap to scratch his scalp, theorizing the antenna picked up a signal from some other house. Unlike you, he's a skeptic of magic, but no science book or conspiranoia could prepare him when the window explodes from an impact, and a dark-winged bird of prey bounces and flaps against the wooden floor, then stands up and starts pecking at the glass.

Hands on the wheel, eyes on the dirt road, you can't stop thinking about what happened at your parents' house. Julia said it was a crow, but you're certain it was a Yata-Garasu. To make things worse, a pimple popped up on your nose—another sign?

Abe: O-over there.

You turn into the woods only for the truck, with a jolt, to end up tilted and sinking into a path with deceptive firmness, swallowing it like quicksand. Annabel Lee, the porcelain doll, lifts her gaze from the book on her tiny legs and points forward with her little white hand to say:

Insanity.

Among the shadows of clustered trees, you spot a scarlet egg pulsing like a heart. Abe says it wasn't there before. You try to reverse, but the truck sinks deeper, and you shift your gaze from the egg to the ground, where red grass—actually tendrils—waves, welcoming you. Abe opens the door, but Annabel Lee warns them they must not step onto the Havester's trap.

Abe crawls to the back seats, lifts a boot, and kicks out the rear window. They move to the cargo area and from there make the best leap possible to escape the egg's zone of influence. You know they've succeeded when the earth doesn't devour them.
During your frantic escape, you left the Melanicus and other belongings behind. As you glance back with Annabel Lee under your arm, you watch the vehicle sink and vanish beneath the ground. The last thing you see is the license plate. The egg remains waiting beyond, among the slender tree trunks, patient.

What evil will hatch?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rc-PocF6-9o▾
At the end of March, Abe and you stole a new pickup truck to escape the pandemonium. Amid screams and burning houses, hands reached out trying to stop you, leaving bloody trails across cracked windows—but you never stopped accelerating. On every one of those manic faces chasing you, the mark of a raw, bleeding cross was visible.

Abe, upright in the passenger seat, without his cap or mask, his eyes heavy with dark circles fixed on the road, begins reciting without stumbling:
And thus they recognized the presence of the Red Death.
It had come like a thief in the night.
And one by one the guests fell in the blood-stained orgy halls,
each dying in the desperate posture of their fall.
And the life of the ebony clock died with the last of those joyous beings.
And the flames of the tripods expired.
And darkness, and decay, and the Red Death ruled over all.

The forest pulls you away from the chaos. You drive to a distant cliff from where you can glimpse the town. From within the smoke rises a giant, its hollow head touching the clouds, its tentacles waving shadows capable of stretching across all of Stepford. Abe touches your shoulder to get your attention, then points at the horizon with a trembling finger.

Abe: T-t-the f-f-four h-h-horsemen of the f-f-f-finish.

Black helicopters approach and circle the city, swirling like swarming flies above a fresh corpse. You suspected there were more than four, but just as you were counting, a blinding electric flash blinds you.

The outline of the dome is visible for only a few seconds before it shields itself through transference. The torso separates from the giant, dropping chunks of flesh, but instead of collapsing, it uses its tentacles to lift itself and carefully descend from the dome, while its cyclopean legs remain still and upright inside the dome.

As your mind struggles to process what you’ve seen, several questions come to you:

What will you do with your life? How will you live? Will you tell others what you saw in Stepford?

...

I know it's a bit late. But anon's reply to Abby inspired me to give both of them an epilogue.

>>2541 →
>Lev
"¿The only thing you can do?"

"..."

"Breaking things is very easy. Repairing... 'ehh', not so much"

"It has quite a value, don't despise that sacred gift"

What I meant by that, who knows. But after saying goodbye and leaving that Jesu' monastery, I walk a few steps along the lonely streets, until I notice how the sun rises on the horizon.

"Good morning"

I say with a smile while I cover my face a bit with my hand, so I can see without the sun blinding me. It should have been like 5 or 6 in the morning, and I was quite tired, so I was just walking to my temple, my home, my... home. It was a productive day, although tomorrow (today) I would have to start to... do that. Slowly I arrive at that abandoned shack, an old bus stop covered in rust, in an area where there was no longer a street, just grassy fields up to my chest, and my presence. I lie down on the bench, and I just look at the rusted tin roof while time passes... I want to scratch my hand, but I don't do it, for now.

>>2542 →
Sleeping outdoors is especially dangerous on cold days like these, and with how poorly protected your shelter is from the elements, you might as well be sleeping outside. Fortunately or by miracle, it seems like it hasn't rained or snowed during the time you've been resting, since you wake up, alive and relatively dry, at some indeterminate time in the afternoon, you can assume.

<Someone: Good afternoon.

Someone's voice confirms your assumptions, or to be more precise, not the voice of someone random, but the unmistakable voice of someone you know and who you know has trouble pronouncing certain esses.

<Someone: An empanada?

He offers you the already cold dough with a bare hand, without a plate or napkin due to lack of resources. This is something he often does, since he, like you, lacks the means to refrigerate or preserve food for long periods. Usually he trades it or shares it with whoever gives him something of use or at least thanks.

<Someone: Of meat, it's the last one I have left.

The rusty cart he uses to carry his food and other goods isn't any cleaner than him, the few Tupperware containers he brings are also in poor condition due to the lack of water and soap to wash them frequently and the fact that he often mixes them up with his other clutter, as he's doing right now.

<Someone: The other one I traded for this... but...

After asking you to wait and search through his things for a while, he takes out two fruits.

<Someone: Pera. Do you want one?

He offers you one of the pears and keeps the other, covering the cart and his things with a somewhat cleaner sheet than the rest.

<Someone: I'm going to keep the seed and plant it outside of my box. When the tree grows, I'll eat pear all day.

He tells you with a smile of rotten teeth that doesn't do much to grace his unfortunate face.

<Someone: I can give you one too.

Despite his ugliness, intellectual deficiency, vagrancy, disease, and oddness, the people in the community see him as a kind person due to these customs of sharing what little he has with others without harboring ambitions to possess more. The people call him Angel, obviously because he has a name and isn't just called "Someone," although it's unclear if that's his real name or some nickname.

At times in the afternoon, he usually passes by these remote areas of the city to pick up whatever he finds discarded out of sight of the officials who would bother to enforce the law that prohibits people from rummaging through trash containers. You also know he lives under the bridge in the center near other homeless people, although you don't know exactly what conditions he lives in or what he does with the debris he collects, if anything besides just accumulating it.

The sentence is good, but it alone doesn't fill the stomach, and it's already late enough to take something to your mouth without it counting as breaking the fast, your body knows you need it. It's also late enough for the free soup to start being served behind the church, if you prefer a more complete meal.

>>2543 →
The night was tough, as cold as the touch of the moon, so beautiful and distinct, but shining without burning your retinas, in such celestial humility, allowing the mortal to contemplate its delicacy. But yes, towards cold, quite cold, maybe it wouldn't rain or snow, but the serenity of the night, froze the being accompanied by the winds of the hills.

My body was trembling, realizing I was sleeping. I've always had trouble with insomnia, but after "That", I've barely managed to blink. But the cold wasn't really what was disturbing my sleep this time, but rather thinking about the helpless one, who has no house, roof or luxury, sleeps under the cruel cold of the elements. That made me sad, and that made me tremble more than the cold.

When I wanted to remember, the sun had already risen and the sky was clear. I yawned and got up from that bench. I looked at myself in the broken mirror, poorly lit, and took a can of powdered milk, mixed it with water and heated it in my gas stove. With that, I threw some blocks of chocolate homemade, and stirred with a spoon while I looked at the landscape and listened to the birds singing. The good thing about getting up late is that you automatically fast, skipping directly to the snack and lunch.

"..?"

"Buenas tardes buen hombre"

Angels always appear at these moments. Despite what popular culture mentions, they don't shine physically, but shine in spirit, because they are so humble that when they come into the world of mortal offspring, they leave their halo in the closet. I see as he offers me a empanada, I smiled and accepted his charity, and in exchange I read fresh a cup with hot chocolate to warm up and give energy. Those who have the least are the ones who give the most, one of the many mysteries of this merciless world

"Many thanks, seriously"

"Take it, it's good"

"Be careful, it's still hot"

I take a sip of my hot chocolate, this warm and reanimates the tired soul, without leaving you alert and paranoid like cheap coffee. I wait while I take another sip until I see as he takes a pear. I observe, observe the fruit and give a friendly smile

"Oh, thanks thanks, but, I already have enough"

"Keep it for someone else who needs it more than me, or for you"

"But still I am infinitely grateful"

''I reject it politely, because I was already rich, and I didn't need more abundance. Then I hear as he tells me that magnificent idea of planting a pear tree, and eating pears every day.

"That... That is a beautiful idea. You are someone very intelligent"

"You will see how that tree will grow, and you will have fresh fruit"

"I know, wait a moment:."

I enter my house and look for a small glass jar with several seeds inside, and go outside to give it to him

"They are flower seeds, they grow fast and smell good. While you wait for the pear tree to grow, they will be your company''

With that I give him a friendly pat on the shoulder to continue his way, and I stay alone eating the empanada while I look at the horizon. I thank in my prayer, and I get up from the ground. I enter my house, grab a bit of water from my bucket and wash my face, then go out to walk and water the flowers behind my "house" with this water. I was going to the church because free food is free food. Also I wanted to see if someone needed my help because my hands are the only thing I can offer. Maybe I would ask the nun who serves food if they need help with something. Anything. Nail some planks, paint a wall, look for something, serve food.'

Ayy I reached the limit. New thread on Wednesday.

>>9706 →
Do we respond to turns here or in the other thread?

And I don't remember if I told you happy birthday this year, so happy birthday, late. May you have a thousand more, like leucosita.

>>9707 →
>Do we respond to the turns here or in the other thread?
Save it for the new thread. I'm making the introduction, it'll be from Uranocircita, half-way. I've had the image saved for a long time, but it's not Urano. It'll be weird because both the intro and the image of this thread were both from Dumor kek

>And I don't recall if I told you happy birthday this year, so happy birthday, late. May you have a thousand more, like leucosita.
Hey! And who is that leucosita anyway? As far as I know, I'm not in charge of a human body role with erythrocytes and leukocytes.
Thanks!

>>10222 →
I did not develop the habit of learning from my sisters or retaining what I learned...
>She had had more than two older sisters who were insecure or unexemplary in some way, in addition to little ability to learn certain things that she would not like to admit out loud at the risk of also sounding insecure or revealing her secrets.
>Similar reasons he had for not alerting Anatasa of the damage he seemed to do by touching her, in the end all that became easier to hide if he just waited a little.
Axinite was good. I liked it when it was just Axinite.
>Fluorite assimilations were still a complex topic even if I spent a thousand years thinking about it. Its complexity was more emotional than logical. He could understand why and how it happened, but not how he felt about it.
>She was sure she didn't hate Fluorite, just like she didn't hate Peridotite, Rutile, or humans, but she didn't feel much compassion for the old leader of the crystalline land even if she liked one of the gems she used to be.
>What I would understand by saving Axinite would be to separate her from Fluorite in some way, even if that would harm the second one.
You probably know how to fight more than I still do. It's been a long time since I touched a sword, I must have caught the attitude of the bark gems.
>He tried to inject some levity into the conversation with that comment, but from his tone it sounded like he was regretting a mistake of his. The strange reactions of Anatasa's bodies for wanting and not allowing herself to be with someone did not comfort her either.
I can understand it...
>Maybe it wasn't exactly the same, but he had felt that no matter how much he loved it, he couldn't have been happy doing those same things with Circita while still worrying about the well-being of the academy and his sisters.
>Anatasa's gaze was already lowered so she had no need to lower hers as well or control what her own face showed as she did.
>If he thought about the decision he made again, he asked himself again if he had done the right thing and how long it would take to continue like this.
If you are sure that you cannot be happy with her and save her at the same time and even knowing that you decide to do this... You must also be prepared to regret it later.
>He didn't find a gentler way to advise him without directly opposing his decision. Their situations seemed very different to begin with. Anatasa probably wouldn't have as much time to think about that decision or how things would have changed if she made a different one.
I don't like being here. I would like to finish what needs to be done and live those millennia somewhere else, but being impatient only makes things worse.
>Rosa and Rutilo were not weak for not being able to endure more years of the slow salvation plan, but no one could say that they ended well or lived happily. Although she doesn't yet know a better way to end the war between crust and surface, she knows that she won't succeed if she follows in the last footsteps of her predecessors.
>If she had enough hope, she could imagine that during that eternity new plans would emerge to save the Gems, like the one Anatasa had designed, although she was not completely happy with it.
>The result she wanted was a world free of conflict between gems and pyroclasts, in which her sisters could live as long as they wanted and new gems could be born and be happy too without further suffering on both sides. But he honestly didn't care enough about the future to regret not allowing it to young gems he would never meet, and if the atrocities Anatasa was prepared to commit, even the ones that reminded him of his older sister, were for the sake of everyone's salvation, then it qualified as necessary suffering.
>This solution was one step ahead of what Rutilo wanted and another step behind what she wanted, it was barely acceptable.
Maybe you are giving me more dreams and responsibilities than you think and making me promise things that will not be possible to fulfill. But I think you still carry a bigger weight doing this than I do helping you.>He smiled slightly, raising his head and the blunt sword that Gardan Siti had given him. The sudden partial loss of his face and hearing disturbed his balance and his ability to do what Anatasa asked for a second, so the blow he gave to his sister's arm with the weapon was less precise and forceful than he intended.
If you want me to be honest, I don't love this plan and neither do you.
>He responded to Anatasa's last comment with a bigger smile, rubbing the part of his face where the percentage of ash he wanted to caress was no longer there.
I've already committed enough atrocities that many won't want to see me live thousands of years and I may not be able to say anything to TaaffTaaff. I also have no strong desire to return to the academy or make amends for my teacher.
>Any blow he gave with the sword would be aimed at unimportant points on Anatasa, such as the arms in which he did not hold a weapon and would probably not need to break it, revealing the little intention he had of killing her quickly.
Rubz would be heartbroken if he saw me now, I don't want that. And if you care so much that Taaff doesn't know this, I imagine you also think he would hate this plan, or hate you.
>Holding a gun again was a temptation, it felt so good to be armed and moving again that it would be hard not to smile. For several years the most physical activity she did was the dances and stretches she repeated daily to stay agile and be able to fulfill her teacher's promise to become better at dodging so as not to lose even more parts of herself.
If she was here telling you not to do it, would you listen to her? How about I promise to tell him everything you plan to do after you do it? If it is still possible for you to repent, I want to make you recant.
>All that dodging training will be of no use to her as long as Anatasa remains still without threatening her, but she still maintains a light step and a certain distance from her sister, practically dancing meters in front of her to encourage her to attack.
It feels good to fight again. If you want me to break you at least we can enjoy it, like a workout. You remember how to fight, right?
>If he treated him as such it was not difficult at all to raise a weapon against his sister, even one in the state of Anatasa.
Despite everything, I am still a combat gem. I still love my sisters. I don't like to see other gems suffer and I wouldn't agree to stay in a safe place while my sister risks herself for me, I would rather be by your side and fight alongside you. I don't know TaaffTaaff as well as you, but if she's a combat gem like us, I know she wouldn't be happy with this.
>He put the sword aside and extended his free hand, inviting Anatasa to take it if she changed her mind.
I want you to help me and for us to fight together to save our sisters, like before... I want you to help me continue committing atrocities, to kidnap more gems and make them suffer to save humans for hundreds of years.
>Her voice, hand, and expression fell a little as she became more honest with what she asked of Anatasa. When his smile returned, it did so less forcefully.
It will be hard, just like your plan, but with your help it will be faster and more bearable. And I trust that when we finish, we will achieve something better for you and for all of us. But the only thing I can promise is that I will be on your side and I will continue to love you as long as you don't hate me.

17d100 = 819

>>10224 →
>>120785
(Anatasa) Do you want to continue with this for all eternity?
>She asked looking into your eyes. Anatasa's voice stopped wavering, completely losing its tremor only to question directly. Unlike the Subcortex or the Metacortex that maintains a range of human annihilation to generate light based on its vapors, in this underground level there is nothing like a group of humans always ready to be evaporated. The absence of pink vapor in the air can weaken you, just as much as natural daylight could strengthen you. Although her body has completely changed, it is a fact that Anatasa still needs light, and you can find it. These are crystals placed on the edges of the structures that remain partially firm. Anatasa drops her neck for a moment, at the same time that the surrounding light itself weakens. She insists.(Anatasa) Is it so important to you to stay alive? What awaits you in thousands of years, Leucosapphire...? I know it's been a long time... I know it's been too long! I've been stranded here for more years than I spent with you or Taaffeita up there. But anyway, I don't want her to have a meaningless life. Will you make it fight with pyroclasts until it completely deteriorates? And what about your sister? Dioptase will live in fear for thousands of years because of you.
>He presses the air with his hands. You can see small disturbances in the space after she exclaimed, as if she had actually made contact with said elements. Indeed, unlike on the surface, communication between gems in the crust is so delayed and ephemeral, so much so that it pales in comparison to the eternal companionship up there. And in fact, it is designed that way, all to mitigate the effects of raping gems and optimize the collection of them, their inclusions. Towards the end of the scheme, all the gems in the Crystalline Earth sooner or later end up captured, and those that are not, fall into unstable psychological states that fortify the value of the rest. As long as you keep your eyes off the island, gems like Dioptase could live and die affecting others, or live and degrade to compromise them in different ways. Anatasa would continue to question you, indirectly rejecting you until her words intensified. She claimed, as if pointing to a pyroclast in your place.
(Anatasa) I can't just accept that you continue this way. You used to be much stronger than me, happier, full of life. Why do you choose to condemn yourself and everyone around you? Does it give you peace of mind to be out of the threat of anyone seeing how others sacrifice themselves? You are a coward...! Liar, you make me nauseous! It's because of gems like you that this torture continues! Just like Fluorite… You have decided to wait for no solution. You can't love or hate deeply, you completely lost that ability.
>Small, thin strands of hair fell from the back of Anatasa's head as she yelled at you. They were followed by an emission of red vapor that condensed into a dark reddish fluid and was lost in the fluffy part of his clothing. For a moment you watched as Anatasa lowered her head, searching with her eyes for any weapon. Confused by that fact, with an advance on your part, her anger forcibly dissipated. She hugged herself, grabbing the edges of his neck in an x-shape as she backed away. Inadvertently, she compared you to Fluorite. Not the Fluorite that the gems timidly followed, but the Fluorite that humans and the gems of the Cortex have portrayed with hatred and disgust. Anatasa was always very tough, but as soon as you tested her toughness, she proved to be in a brittle state due to what is now just a thin layer of her original material. Anatasa covered the holes in its structure with her hands, so the ground beneath her also created equal iron hands to seal carelessly. Anatasa's reaction was remarkably human, in pain, she fell to her knees.
(Anatasa) How much longer do I have to endure this-? A-stay away, Leucosapphire.
(Anatasa*) …>He shrank, sinking into the iron floor, for you, however, he was perfectly stable. Your sword, made from incredibly hard pieces of androids, is cracked. Although you did not receive any direct attack from Anatasa, superficial pieces similar to thin sheets fell from your weapon. They revealed a fleshy, white interior that tried to blend into the internal red of the androids. What seemed to be a complaint from Anatasa turned into a warning as soon as you saw the metallic shape that was created from the ground and moved forward with the speed of a landslide. In an instant, an incredibly large flow of metal covered you completely. It completely stripped you of light. Inside, small particles of you and your sword came off, creating a veil of fine ash that disappeared. It would probably end up giving your skin a grainy look if you stayed there for several minutes. Cutting the iron was simple, but its ability to regenerate, or appear to regenerate due to the enormous flow, was superior. Not more than a minute had passed until the metal's control was undone and the walls returned to being the same floor. Anatasa stood, patched in patches of reddish-black mineral. Repaired, she uttered with inflexibility and disgust.
(Anatasa) I know what he will say. And that doesn't matter, it is a fact that Taaffeíta and Axinita will forget me with the passage of time, it is inevitable. If it's as you say, I'm sorry you can't handle a much lighter load.
>When you realized, one of his hands was touching your belly. The palm was made of mineral and thermal coverage, it was not an iron construction. Although Anatasa was standing more than a meter away from you. When you were able to observe properly, you could notice how he hid the edge of his sleeves between iron spikes. His empty arms were gone, replaced by a mass of iron that dripped and attracted attention. The real ones were with you, and just as you saw their spray ability working, it was much more effective with scattered material such as that of a pyroclast. Even if you broke the one in front of you, the second end was hidden to ensure contact. Thus, even if it destroys you through your weakest and most flexible area, you would not be able to continue active with only half your body for too many seconds.
(Anatasa) …
>Anatasa turned, pouring iron around her. The metal wall that surrounded you gained shine and lost hardness, liquidizing. Anatasa's hand fell in front of you and sank into this same mud, and above your head, you felt how the second one also briefly touched your hair and then fell and sank. Everything was absorbed by the iron, and Anatasa slowly absorbed that same iron. Still on her back, she bent down to rearrange her arms, one by one. You couldn't see her face, but from her voice, Anatasa sounded upset. The original floor appeared beneath you, sporting a cracked and deteriorating pyroclastic material that the androids poured in to build immediately. Anatasa confessed.
(Anatasa) It's absurd...! There are gems I can't sacrifice. You are one of them and for a moment, my first reaction was to completely remove your hands and face. It's absurd, right?! To think that I can force and limit someone like that. What's wrong with me...?
>You still don't fully recover your sense of hearing on one side of your head, but listening to Anatasa isn't difficult. Normally, Peridotite chooses to keep complete gems active or completely destroyed. Even on Crystalline Earth, the missing parts of a gem are always filled with another mineral. That's why what Anatasa proposes feels twisted. It is a fact that with enough material and light, gems can remain active even if they cannot recover information from their environment. When Anatasa exclaims for the second time, she raises her hands to her head. For the first time, you can get a glimpse of Anatasa perfectly joined together. With both iron and bromine inside, although it does not show the best condition because it is complete, in fact it has even worsened. Concentrating all her abilities within herself, while speaking of self-sacrifice, seems instinctively dangerous.(Anatasa) I thought I had enough courage to destroy myself, one who does not possess Fluorite. (...) But not. I don't want to become a despicable gem that takes advantage of others and their suffering. I don't want to receive hate from you or anyone. If only I had stuck to my desires from the beginning, I would be a silly gem who still believed in magic and fairy tales. How useful is a gem like that to you…? Can I just hold your hand and forget about all this? Not anymore… There is no way things can go back to the way they were before.
>All the metal gathers and compresses, taking on a shiny black color that slowly recovers the pieces of Anatasa around it. From time to time you can see Anatasa's second face emerge behind or in front of her. When he has finished, Anatasa lets go of his heavy limbs unable to lift them for any length of time. She slides a hand over his chest and opens up. Her steps were loaded with enough mass to sink her into the ground as she lifted one foot over the other. Due to the bromine that escapes almost invisibly from your body, the entire environment is perceived in a distorted red. Anatasa says the latter by directly observing her body, its composition and effects. But anyway she comes closer.
(Anatasa) I don't want to be alone. I don't want to die alone. Here…
(...)
>It didn't seem to be healthy for Anatasa to monopolize all of her elemental extensions. Although it wasn't optimal for it to be hollow either. For now, it was best to contain the bromine inside her in half with the metal. The iron could spread like a blob, but it could also go deep into the soil like a giant inverted grass fiber. This caused Anatasa's center of gravity to drop a lot, so her torso and head normally trembled a bit. Fortunately, the Peridotite moment is not a moment of months or years, but only of hours. There was an android waiting at the edge of the level ready to notify the Cortex Leader, but she could already realize what had happened only by feeling Anatasa's now thin influence on the ground. Anatasa holds your hand, guilt on her face. She has been extremely silent since she took the step. Peridotita and her way of presenting the information in a way that makes her the only one enjoying the conversation doesn't help their meeting either. Anatasa's position towards Peridotite used to be confrontational, but now it is only avoidant. She only reacts by pressing briefly until Peridotite leaves her alone.
(Peridotite) I knew I forgot! That's what happens when I'm forced to do something, I'm put under pressure. Leucozafiro, I was willing to give you a catalog with all the broken gems that lie here. Hm, but it looks like you already rescued one of them, I'm not really surprised. Regarding you, Anatasa, I assume that you will collaborate with us for a while, so I will advance my promise and eliminate that much abused aspect of yours. I'll use silver, it will mitigate everything. Of course, the opportunity it would give you to return to the surface is completely suspended. Now, what are you waiting for! Rejoice, jump! Don't you love me now?
(Anatasa) …
(Peridotite) You defined the shape of your heart 100 years ago, don't be surly. Leucosapphire, it is your duty to train her.

>>10225 →
Nothing is immutable, things change... I prefer that to everything always being the same.
>Anatasa's tone caught her off guard at first, but she tried to maintain composure and optimism.
Not knowing what will happen tomorrow is more exciting, although it can also worry me. But if I'm not even alive for it, I'll never know. I want others to live because I want to live too.
>She hesitated, starting to feel that this optimism was a kind of defense against Anatasa's real worries, and simply opposing what she said instead of acknowledging it wasn't doing either of them any good.
I loved once and decided I wouldn't do it again, so I closed myself off to the possibility. I came close to hating Fluorite for being the reason they were attacked and never doing anything to end it or even tell us, but I also think I started to resemble her.
>More than once she found a way to quickly end the conflict between gems and pyroclasts but decided not to and continued to wait, believing that the gems deserved a chance to keep living until each one individually decided they wanted to stop.
>If I were in Fluorite's position as I am now, I would also choose to hide certain things from most gems.
So now I hate myself. I couldn't hate someone else for hating me, treating me badly, or trying to kill me; sometimes I think I deserve it.
>She stopped moving energetically and leaned her sword against the floor, watching pieces of it break off after the blow that Anatasa still didn't respond to.
If I'm not happy where I am, I assume it's because of my own decisions. I blame myself when things don't go well, but I still doubt it's all my fault. The last thing Dioptase told me was that she no longer needed me to take care of her. And Taaffeite is intelligent, she'll know how to make her own decisions if she has the option to.
>She gripped the weapon tightly, remembering past feelings she thought she had gotten rid of. She took advantage of that moment of strength to counterattack Anatasa's iron and limbs, uselessly. All she managed to do was exhaust the little energy she was receiving in that dark place and realize how clumsy her movements were.
>When Anatasa herself stopped the attack, she didn't react to her words, just remained where the iron had trapped her, waiting for her hearing to return.
If I had never found out about everything Fluorite was hiding, I would still be trying to be the best by swinging a sword, making my sisters happy, or traveling to a distant part of the world, but I decided to do this...
>Life was simple then, it was easy to be happy when I was ignorant and neither of us could ever go back to that. All she got for trying to go back was to lose more of her material.
Things can't go back to the way they were, but they can be good again, or better... I have to stay alive to find out, the alternative would be to give up, then everything would be over.
>She accepted Anatasa's hand and led her out of that dark place with a smile, unable to believe that everything had worked out that way after the initial resistance she showed. But after the confusion, she felt something warm inside.
I want to be with you, I don't want to die soon. Hm~ hmm~ hm~ hm~ hmhm~ hmhmhmhm hmmm~
>They made the rest of the journey almost in silence, as after a few steps she felt an urge to hum something. She had never been so comfortable in direct contact with another gem, even though both of them were somewhat broken.
If Ana can't jump for joy, I'll do it for her. I'm happy to be with my sister again!
>She did as she told Peridotite and took a couple of leaps, holding Anatasa by both hands to see her face while smiling at her.
I wanted to tell you something else, Gardan. You might not remember it because it was a short conversation a few hundred years ago, but before I went down to the crust, I told you I didn't want to see you experimenting on any of my sisters.
>She turned to face the leader of the crust with a furious look. There was no way she could intimidate Peridotite, she just wanted to convey the seriousness with which she was speaking.
Maybe Anatasa is fine now, but I don't want to be a part of this anymore. If you can't stop experimenting on gems I knew just because I ask you to, then don't include me, otherwise I can't guarantee I'll remain cooperative.
>She stopped turning to look at Anatasa's expression. Immediately after making a decision, she wondered if it had been the right one, but it wasn't always possible to know the answer right away.
>She had already done too much following Peridotite's orders and now they had Anatasa on their side, or so she presumed. She didn't want to do it again, just as she hadn't wanted to do it the first time. If she even opened herself to the possibility of being convinced to try it, she would develop an even worse opinion of herself and those around her.
I forgot to pick up the weapon you gave me, but if you don't need it, I can keep it. I remembered how fun it was to play with swords.

>>9200 →

I don't remember if it happened the last time you asked about it, but John Kafka has some drawings that could help you and since we're on the meta, I guess it doesn't hurt to ramble about this role.

I only watched the Houseki no kuni anime when I joined the role, but I didn't remember practically anything about it. Notice how little I remember that things like inclusions, losing memories due to breaking or being very old, among other elements said in the role, were taken as 100% your ideas, kek.
I've been reading the manga to keep those things fresher and I had a question: Why did you establish 6 as the minimum necessary to be able to fight? In the original story, Zircon has a hardness of 5 and is treated by several characters as someone quite competent in his job. There is also the case of Cinnabar with a hardness of 2, although I wouldn't even count this one since it depends on his mercury.

A while ago I came across an image of Miku turned into a gem, that gem coincidentally being Dioptase just like in the role. When I saw her I was thinking of making the joke that they stole your idea, but looking deeper I found that she was a 100% original character and I moved on from the topic to this day.
While I was looking for the aforementioned image to show you now, I also found this page in which they tell the entire background of the character. There are some superficial similarities, but in general they do not have many similarities.
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1YvnEMy_1Kswnuj-C864NLCYBGe1vMJaF6LokqEc-NTY/edit?pli=1#heading=h.xhn9y89jyzjc

I had a dream about a gems role a few weeks ago, but it wasn't your role, it was one operated by kumiko. It didn't get past the first thread and barely anything was done in it beyond walking and talking to other gems. Before killing him, Kumiko said that she planned to make the role's enemy aliens, literally aliens with UFOs, laser guns and the whole thing.
I have a vague memory of a blue-haired gem who was relatively important in the role, her appearance was similar to Alexandrite from Houseki no kuni, but with bluer hair, I'm going to say that that cutie was Azurite because this image she just found looks a lot like my mental image.

>After a certain chapter I will have to do a slightly longer meta with you
You make it sound like you're a father who wants to talk to us and scold us if you say it like that kek

>>9201 →
Thanks black, same for Zafiro, but right now I have the images of the next two threads covered at least kek

>Why did you establish 6 as the minimum necessary to be able to fight?Kek the difference from 5 to 6 is very small, but I'm glad you asked about that black, the answer is kind of interesting. It is basically due to the material and the way the enemies attack. In Houseki the lunarios are made of fog and liquid, and their way of destroying gems is with more or less blunt weapons. There, hardness does not qualify too much, as in the case of Zircón, but rather tenacity. I could also use Diamante as an example, being so inferior to Bort. Hardness only refers to scratches and certain soft contacts, basically contact between gems.

Since pyroclasts are volcanic material, the gems use volcanic glass to destroy them. Normally impacts between materials of the same hardness mean nothing, but in the case of volcanic glass, a material much more consistent than the suspended particles of ash or lapilli, their swords are effective. Pyroclasts are scattered mineral beings and their general way of attacking is not using weapons. Ashes, slags, blocks and bombs all attack with their own "body". Their attacks are not completely forceful, they all continually graze the surface of the gems to erode them. It is as if in each battle they are involved in a brief sandstorm that also hits them. Since the hardness of pyroclasts is 6, erosion does not do any damage to other gems above hardness 6.

It is an approach that depends much more on hardness and emphasizes its importance more. For this reason, Chrysocolla, Aragonite and other low hardness gems are much clearer that fighting is useless based on the erosion-6 that would damage them at the slightest contact.
If I focused on tenacity, a gem with such high fragility as Axinite would not be able to fight. Although, the Lapilli and Blocks pyroclasts are dangerous anyway because they use the same forceful attacks as Houseki.

And it is still a measure that was placed only less than 2000 years ago, surely by Sapphire.

>Miku
Kek it's always interesting to see these coincidences. I chose Miku because she has too many pics and it's easier to limit all those pics to the ones with just glasses. Pure practicality and some laziness. That it looked like Sapphire and other versions of Dioptase that I also saved was a bonus.
I guess the guy who made the OC chose Dioptase because there is only one color for Dioptase and it is exactly Miku's light blue. She is a famous character so it is certain that she would be made into a gem at some point.

>Azurite
No idea black, I don't know that role kek
I've had dreams about roles, but right now I don't remember any. And I think that's okay, because I have the feeling that they have all been very implausible. To the point that when I wake up I know that the ideas will not work in role and I just forget it.

>Also
I was reviewing past threads, I think it is worth revisiting these posts
>>83221

>>93870
>>94078

>Also2
https://youtu.be/5IAtdx0IZwA?si=_dQVc1KPJ5nz4dqW▾Weird atmosphere theme

>>9201 →
>You make it sound like you're a parent who wants to talk to us and scold us if you say it like that.
Will I do reeducation with Taaffeita this time? If we are both criminals we will have more in common as partners, partners in crime.

>>9200 →
He was imitating the lesson that Happy stored pyroclasts in his mouth and once tried to eat a gem but there was some Taaffeite in that too.

>>8890 →
>I already thought about having a conversation with Leucozafiro happen separately from the turns you send, so as not to affect the roleplay's rhythm.
Yes, but if it's okay with you, I'd like to set the initial atmosphere. It'd be a couple of dialogues with Fluorite and then a patrol or something like that.

>Some of these artists' images might be useful for you.
They helped me, man, and so did Zafiro's. I've added more to the folder I have labeled "conceptual images." I plan to use them when things get abstract. Though it's unlikely the roleplay will get that far (based on what we've done so far)

For now, the possible images for the next thread are:
1: The one I wanted to use for thread 3 kek, 2: Padparadscha, 3: Dioptase. 4 and 5 I just like.

>>8891 →
>Don't gems lose consciousness only when their head or torso is destroyed?
Yes, when they lose all their limbs they become slightly sluggish or disconnected, but they remain conscious. The fastest way to disable a gem is by destroying their head; if the torso is destroyed, it takes a few more seconds for them to go offline.

I'll answer the other question later, it made me think for a while kek (I think I'll add it to the glossary)

>>8893 →
>>8894 →
>>8895 →
Consider your turns the last of the extra turns. I will still answer it but my answer will be shorter and probably tied to the following situation.

>>8897 →
Except for Almandine, she has one more extra turn.
We will probably have to roleplay in parallel, the extra turn and the chapter. I might send you two turns in the next thread.
That's because the next chapter directly involves Almandine and I must roleplay it contemporaneously (at least the beginning).

If Taaff and Zafiro's chat is long and gives me time to fully respond to Almandine, then we'll forget about that problem.

I will make the thread when I finish the glossary and also the introduction.

>>8898 →
>Yes, but if it's not a problem, I'd like to set the initial atmosphere. They would be a couple of dialogues with Fluorita and then a patrol or something like that.
I don't see reasons to refuse, also I'm going to wait for the next thread to respond

>>8590 →
As a player I am more focused on the experiences and knowledge that a gem must have rather than on the lore and as a character I have focused on aspects close to my monkey rather than the grand scheme of things. But so quickly I would say that the fact that the moon is "smoothed" gives more weight to what I said that there was some great war before, the same with Miss Pyroclast and her pad that seems to indicate that there is someone or something watching us

>a kind of limbo where gems return
Said like that it sounds like something we could explore in dreams but I don't know if that ends up going well with your idea of how these work for gems.

>>8592 →
>So the bark Padparadscha that Happy and Rutilo mentioned is not a different number of Padparadscha but one made of iron/thermal?
I don't think there will be a thermal Padparadscha anytime soon, it will depend on how the chapters progress.

>What is that Kunzite called or what is its source?
Merlin from Fate Prototype

>>8593 →
>lore
Nor have I given many opportunities for this to be made known, kek And the truth is that it may continue like this in the following chapters, But that there were conflicts 300k years ago, yes. The detailed history of gems spans only about 10k years

>dreams
I know I wrote that Taaffeite has been having nightmares, but as with the particular properties of gems I'm pretty flexible with this. Some gems dream, others don't, some's dreams are important and others' are not.

>>8594 →
>I don't think there will be a thermal Padparadscha anytime soon, it will depend on how the chapters progress.
I went a long way with this comment KEK
I don't want to create expectations, I just don't.

The weekend I will be busy, and next week the same or more, but on specific days.
I found time today, so I'm already writing shift. I'll post a thread in a few hours.

>>7932 →
The second one is the only one that makes me think of gems, I'll wait for the next thread to answer

https://youtu.be/WtjofNGJrIw?si=1P5ze1ovW6xgIXal▾https://youtu.be/wefOI4tnW08?si=G18JAf_9ObSNIzJV▾Kunzite, Howlite

>>7933 →
To represent the gems I normally use an illustration with a lot of sparkles, those go in the first post. Or in rare posts like the gem sheet I uploaded a while ago. It would be the first pic.
The pics that accompany the thread are what I consider semi-spoilers. Like the image in this thread that goes with Taaffeite, the smoke and so on.

The poll would be 2, 3, or 4. I like the cropped form much more I regretted the previous third option

>>7934 →
Poll closed with 2? 1 vote (mine)

New thread >>89623

>>7616 →

Okay?

>Looks confused as her sword fails to hit that ash and turns to Alexandrita with the same confusion
>She was ready to try hitting him again, but Alexandrita's words make her change her mind
>After that she starts moving forward and leaves the ash behind to deal with the others
>Although she can't help but glance back a few times due to the intrigue caused by having failed that way
>Because of this she isn't able to concentrate enough on the battle and becomes a target of more attacks than expected

I think I'm a bit tired...

>She manages to block some projectiles, but the few she fails to dodge end up causing enough damage to knock her down
>Parts of her separate from her body and make it impossible for her to get up again
>In the same way her mind also starts to feel more fragmented
>She even forgets the danger of the situation she's in and focuses solely on the sky above her
>The clouds today certainly have a nice shape, but she can't see them for more than a few seconds before her consciousness fades

>>7617 →

Hmm? aah... Good morning...

>Her first reaction upon waking up is to stay lying down while blinking multiple times as she recovers her senses
>After that she starts to take a better look at her body and the surroundings, the first seems to be fine and the second feels very familiar
>Not much time passes before the presence of more gems becomes noticeable
>So Taaffeita greets them although without much emotion

Eeeh... so... did I lose?

>She listens silently to everything Andalucita says to her
>Her expression remains quite neutral during that explanation
>The algae of Imperial Topacio is the only thing that manages to make her smile slightly
>Which doesn't last long once they return to the previous topic
>Her memories of the battle aren't entirely clear, but if she's here then what happened is obvious
>At some point she must have ended up broken and that happened without her being able to hit any of the enemies

Jeje... I'm awake...

>She lightly hits her head to indicate that while letting out a short laugh
>Although the joy of that laugh doesn't have half the emotion she usually carries
>This defeat seems to have drained a lot of her spirits, something she herself doesn't fully understand
>It's not the first time she has to be rebuilt and nor has much time passed since the last time they did it, so why is this happening to her?
>No matter how she thinks about it she can't come up with an answer, but she knows she doesn't want to show this "weakness" in front of the others, which is another feeling she doesn't know where it comes from

Eh? Did I grow? Uhm.... uhm.... Is Alex okay? And what about the algae?

>Her eyes open suddenly as she's informed about her new height
>And her mind is hit by a flood of information triggered only by the word "grow"
>Several of the recent events had made her feel much older
>Just like the case of the multiple compliments she had received, as well as her newly discovered talents
>But what made her feel the oldest was definitely the birth of Anastasa, thanks to her she's no longer the second youngest
>Taaffeita thought that was a sign that she was now on the same level as the others, but that defeat just showed her that she isn't
>And that ends up being quite depressing for her, to the point where she starts to panic in search of a new topic to talk about

>>7624 →
B

>>7625 →
>Is there time to find out what it's about, or has it already passed/it won't be able to pass and you can tell what it means?
Yes, there is enough time. About Golem, it's not an element that will last for long.
**https://youtu.be/9YFZ_7yPId4**▾

>>7627 →
Answer in the next thread.

>>7614 →
>it seems Benitoíta didn't hear them and walked past
>they'll have to finish the job on their own
>which won't be easy with the arrival of Topacio Místico and a flock of ducks

what is Topacio Místico doing with those creatures exactly? does he have a plan?

>question Howlita out of curiosity while continuing with the cleaning tasks
>the sooner they finish the sooner they can return to the workshop