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⬣//JUST AS A SEED TAKES ROOT.
A team of four courageous adventurers managed to unearth a secret Area unique from the others: the Hulle Granz Cathedral. Unlike other Areas, this one is lacking all the usual monsters, dungeons, and treasure. What might the purpose of this Area be, then...?
Well, if you’re feeling penitent or perhaps wish to hold a sermon of your own, head to Hidden Forbidden Holy Ground and knock yourself out. What? Too soon?
Anyway, be not afraid! The cathedral is perfectly safe. Following Ganymede’s little incident in the cathedral, a timely email has been sent out to beta testers regarding health and safety that reads as follows:
To our beta team,
Please exercise caution when playing video games for extended periods of time. Take breaks every thirty minutes and do not sit in the same position for more than two hours at a time. Remember to stay hydrated and play in a well-lit environment.
Failing to take care of your health while gaming can result in a litany of health complications, including but not limited to eye strain, muscle fatigue, headaches, dizziness, and involuntary loss of consciousness and motor functions.
We take the health and safety of our beta testers very seriously. If you have any concerns, please contact us at cccorp.ccmail.com.
Thank you for your continued efforts,
CyberConnect Corporation of Japan.
Guilds have been patched into the current version of Fragment and are now available for players to create their own and join others. While some guilds have opted to go the private route, others are in need of players to fill their ranks!
The admins have kindly supplied those recruiting for their shiny new guilds with a number of goodies to aid in their player gathering efforts:⬣ A bundle of personalized flyers proudly displaying their guild logo and a description of the guild’s @ home and available amenities.
⬣ Party poppers and streamers. Nothing screams “join my guild!” like a face full of glitter, confetti, and colorful strips of ribbon.
⬣ A megaphone that lets your voice echo far and wide, even across Root Towns and Areas, but with great potential for abuse comes restrictions! The megaphone can only be used five times before it breaks. Use it wisely!
⬣ A unique recipe for a cocktail, latte, tea, or other type of beverage that can be blended up and served in little sample cups to court potential members. These drinks are unique to their guilds and, when consumed, have a special effect that reflects the leader of that guild. Is your guild leader a pretty cheerful guy? Drinking their special brew will make you feel happy too!
Whatever effect your guild’s drink has is up to the leader’s discretion, but if you so desire, drop a comment under the questions top level and we’ll brew one up for you.
Additionally, you may host a guild open house and invite potential guildies into your @ home to let them take a look around! Guild @ homes are typically locked to guild members & their guests only, so use this as your opportunity to put your best foot forward and impress the world with everything your guild has to offer.
Also arriving with the newest update are mountable Grunties! Aren’t they cute? ...Well, they’re someone’s definition of cute.
While the ability to ride around town and in Areas at 2x speed is certainly alluring, you can’t just walk up to the Grunty Ranch located in each Root Town and take one out for a stroll. If you want a mount of your very own, you’ve got to commit! Becoming a proud Grunty owner means you must first become a proud Grunty parent, and to do that, you’ll need to raise your Grunty from infancy into adulthood.
Just what kind of adult might your Grunty become? That depends on how you raise them and what you feed them. Those strange "foods" popping up all over Areas might not taste good to you, but they sure do to Grunties!
For more information on how to acquire a baby Grunty of your very own and raise it into a proper — or not so proper — member of Grunty society, head on over to the Grunty Ranch.
Mac Anu, the City of Twilight known for its gentle ocean breezes, has been uncharacteristically warm lately. Very, very warm. Its usual orange skies have been swapped out for vivid blues, the sun dwelling high in the sky and threatening to burn everything in its wake.
It won’t take much wandering to feel the effects of heat exhaustion sink in, and even after you log out for the day, those symptoms seem to linger. Do Hien and Zelkova know what the hell is going on? Of course not. Unusual occurrences are slowly becoming the norm in Fragment, it seems, but the point of a beta test is to work out any kinks. Report it and move on.
Lumina Cloth is similarly affected by unusual weather phenomena, but it’s much more pleasant and hospitable than poor Mac Anu. The sun hangs just above the horizon, bathing the strip in early evening light. It’s much cooler here too, and what’s more, it appears that a carnival has rolled into town. What fun!
All the usual carnival fare is here: greasy fried foods, drinks served in foot long glasses, and a litany of carnival games that are totally not rigged. Entry is free and so are the prizes, but some of them take a bit of legwork to win.
⬣ Successfully PK another player to win the carnival exclusive Thursday The 12th™ skin. PK’d players will receive an appropriately spooky ghost skin of their own!
⬣ Step on up to the dunk tank and get dunked on to win a sexy swimsuit skin! Both the dunkers and the dunkees will win this skin, but only those who successfully dunk the player in the tank will be rewarded with the chance to show off some skin. The appearance this skin takes is dependent on the player wearing it, so have fun and get creative with it!
⬣ Take a trip through the hall of mirrors with a friend and do some reflecting! Stare too long into the mirrors and you might recall a memory that doesn’t belong to you, but to the person venturing through the hall of mirrors with you. Did that really happen? Surely it’s all in your head. Memories available for memshare are limited to the ones listed on your application.
Additional rewards include giant plush monsters that can be used to decorate guild @ homes and private rooms (limit one per player!) and a pet goldfish that, unfortunately, will die a hero’s tragic death within a week. Womp womp.
We’ve had a busy week! It seems like there was a glitch that allowed players to equip other players as weapons, which resulted in a ten player chain, wielded by none other than our hardworking head administrator, Hien! I’ll have a talk with him about not doing this kind of thing in the future, I promise!
That wasn’t all, though. An unknown entity reached out to the players participating in the ten-player chain and issued them a special title: Good Friends Stick Together. Fragment’s not supposed to have titles. Well, at least not in the beta. But you can go ahead and add it to your name if you want to anyway, and it shouldn’t cause any problems! We still can’t pinpoint who sent those messages and how they overrode the permissions to create those titles in the first place, but... Hmm. I don’t want to start any rumors, so I’ll keep looking into it.
There are those armor sets too, which I didn’t know had been handed out to those of you that reached level 25. Oria brought it to our attention, thankfully! There’s not a whole lot we can do about it now, but we know that some of them are pretty invasive. But knowing is half the battle, right?
Our friend Ganymede suffered an accident recently that had him lying unconscious in the hospital for about a day. He seems to be feeling better now, thankfully. Ḩ̵̲̼͆̃͐̆ò̸̧̰͕̥̈́͒̕͜p̷̫͙̯͇̾̄͜ę̸̹̒f̷̠̭͉̱̅͘ǘ̴͎̙̥̭̈́̈́l̵͇̙͍̳̜̇̓̒l̷̬̲̀̆̈̅̂ͅỳ̵̧̻̖ ̷̠̫̭̰̦̋͗h̴̰͕̑͗e̸̦̼͇̾͘ ̴̡̢̝̺̳̊̎̎̔p̴̳̠̼̜͔̂̅̐à̵͕̹̟ͅỹ̴̡̛͝s̶͉̕ ̴̢͕̬̑̆̕͝b̸̹̲͗͒̊͑͠ē̶̛͖͠ṯ̸̻̺́͒͐t̶̻͕͎̑ĕ̶̖̀͗͛͋r̷͙̗̙̲͙̓̚͝ ̷̻̠͉̈́̚a̷̡̙̳̽́̀̋̔ẗ̴̢̨̛̬̺t̴͖̳͝ē̷͇̆͆̍̚ͅn̵̪̜͉͊̉̔̄͐t̵͕̼͈̓͋̈́̕î̷̬o̸͇̐͋͑͌n̶̟̫̟̽̑͒͐͘ ̷̜̈́̈̀̂̎t̶͙̂͛ô̸̠̜ ̶̫͎̎h̶͖̳͛i̸̗͖̖̅̂͆̄͛s̸͔̈́̇̍ ̸̩̗̻̕s̵̬̼̳̲̞͝ù̸̞̺̣͙̾͒͛ŗ̴̻̟̻̭̂̈́r̶̡͈̲̣̣͋̊͗̕o̶̥̝̮̓ų̴̻̯̬̊̑̑͌̉ͅn̶̢̙̦͔͖̈̒͝d̷̰̼̤̥̃̿͒̌̎i̸̯͑̾͊̑͝n̵̦͐g̸̪̾͝͝s̷̛̝͙̣̹̍͛͝ ̸͔̲̠̩͗̓̀͘a̷̛̼̓̈́͊ṅ̵̥͆̎ḑ̶̨̯̱͍̇ ̷̛̗̮̀̆ḧ̴̼̪́͗͝i̵͓̬̤͂͐͒s̶̮̎̿̃ ̴̛͔̋͗̽h̷̝͑ͅē̴̱ȃ̵̝͎ͅļ̷͍̀͐͊̊̽ẗ̸̼̺̟̥̼́̄͛h̶̥̹̬̮̽̅ ̷̟̖̮͛́̿t̸̢̤̤̂͒͋̍o̶̼̟̓ ̵̥̳͙̖̆̈́ả̶̛̳̱͙̖̩̿̽͘v̴͈͉͖͊͘ỏ̶̤͚̅͑͝i̴̱͈̩̳̳̿̇̕͠ḏ̵͙̮͗͆ ̶̯̭̝̹̯͊s̸͍̰͔̔̀͋͋̐u̷̟̠͑̔̏̚c̵̨͖͉͇̀͆͘ͅh̴̨̓͌̄̈ ̶̧̱̻̼̏̃̃i̷̱͉͈̿̎̋͒͜͝n̴̢͓͍̂͝͠c̷̢̢̛̹͚̑̓̅ͅi̶͕̟̻̘̫̾͌d̶͉͉̏̇e̵͉̱̩̯̤͐̎̉̾n̸̡̠̈͜ţ̴̇͑̈́͘s̵̩̼͔̙̙̉͘ ̵̮̯̞̮̾̈́͋̔̈h̵̡̗͉͉͈̉̐̅̚ȁ̵͖͚̖̾p̸̰̬͖̩̀̈́̆̓p̶̢̛̼̈́͆̒͘ͅe̷̟̘̩̲̻̾̊n̵̨̩̜̟͆͘i̵̙͉̺̮͠ͅṋ̷̆ġ̶͙͚ ̴̩̋à̷̄̑̂͝ͅǧ̵͖̜͍͕̒̑͒a̷̧̛̞͐̃̈́͘i̷̯͉̬̯̽̍n̷̘̝͓̽̅̕!̵̩͑
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Yeah?
[He takes a look as Oria prompts - honestly, weight isn't one of his concerns at least and then laughs a little at Oria]
You definitely disappear in this one.
[Except. Hm. Something moves in the corner of his eye and he blinks, frowning. It's gone. And it's just them again]
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[ He doesn't find that scary.
But should Sinclair look again, in his head, he'll "remember" a scene—a hospital room, devoid of warmth, "you" stand there, leaning against the wall. The dehumidifier is the only thing that makes a sound other than the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor. There lies a patient in the bed. His hair is gray, almost silver even, and the sideswept bangs are long enough to cover his eyes. He looks to be around "your" age. The patient looks terribly ill. Is he still alive? He's so thin. Skin and bones, they said.
"Hey. When are you gonna wake up?"
"You" say, feeling awful from merely letting those words out in the air.
No one responds to "your" question. ]
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--Hey! Vogel?!
[ Oria snaps his fingers in front of Sinclair's face. ]
You good?
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...I...
[What was that? He blinks slowly, as he glances back at the mirror and then at Oria. That wasn't him, was it? But when he glances at the mirror again, all he sees is their distorted reflections, where Oria seems to disappear. He shakes his head and picks up his dropped cone. It's crushed now, and dirty. He puts it in a pocket to deal with later]
...sorry, I think one of my roommates was trying to talk to me. Let's keep going.
[They can go onto the next set of mirrors, which widens and distorts their reflections to strange shapes]
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[ He's wondering if that's really the case, but he'll go along with it for now, following Sinclair to the next set of mirrors. Oria stands in front of one and he looks like a squiggly S. ]
If someone can do that, they'd be a contortionist. It's as if they have no bone in their body! Like an octopus.
[ ... ]
Remind me to eat some fried octopus after this.
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You can't still be hungry. [Pause] I think takoyaki would be better for a carnival like this.
[This time, when Oria looks again, he might notice a distortion in the image. A strange reflection of colours, a glimpse of a drab black and white school uniform]
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[ Oria laughs, but then blinks, wondering if he saw something odd in the mirror, so he goes to take a closer look. No one is wearing a uniform here, is what he thinks and wonders if it's a coding error. ]
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"You" don't hear any of that of course. "You're" too busy looking out the window, flipping a pen over and over in your hand.
A pair project
It's always a pair project, these end of year ones. The teachers always liked to build comradery amongst their students; a benefit for their future. But this was "you" and this made you fidget, and your skin crawl.
Why?
The answer is clear when a cold strong hand clamps down over your shoulder and a tall girl with blonde hair leans down over you. She's tall, lanky, with cold icy blue eyes. There's something unsettling about the way she smiles at you.
"Sinclair~ there you are. Do you remember our deal?"]
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--Oria, you can't still be thinking about octopus, can you?
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--Huh? Oh... yeah, actually.
[ That girl unnerves him, but what was that? "Sinclair"? He was Sinclair? That doesn't make any sense— ]
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What did you just call me?
[ Well, it's his name, so he should be called by that name. But he thought Sinclair was trying so hard to pretend that they didn't know each other.
But then they talked about their sisters and everything else.
Maybe it was a sign to drop it?
It was Sinclair's last chance to keep it or toss it. ]
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[He looks over Oria for a second to make sure he wasn't completely out of it and then it hits him]
...ah. [Well--it didn't really matter anymore, right? What was the point of this farce again? Oria had known from day one and he.
Well. He had been kind about it. And Sinclair had been allowed to run away for a little while.]
...sorry. Did you mind me using your name?
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I don't mind, but use my username when we're around a bunch of people. Do you want me to do the same, Emil?
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...yeah. That works. I'll be more careful next time.
[Just giving that hand a reassuring squeeze. Off to the next part of the maze then. Hopefully there's a vending machine programmed somewhere because his throat is getting a little parched]
1/2 cw: (possible) some form of euthanasia
[ Once they settle into the next set of mirrors, Sinclair will "remember" again—continuing from where he left off.
The lack of response tears at "your" heart, even though "you" expected it. That's how it should be. "You" love this person so much that it hurts to see him on the bed like this, with cystic fibrosis being a particular severe case with him compared to others. "You" once gave him a bouquet of 65 roses when he was first admitted to the hospital, saying that "you" would love him as long as the bouquet had lived. One of them was a fake rose in the center of it all. They sit in a vase on a desk, wiltering to the side. The fake rose accumulates dust.
"You" stand by his side, gently lifting his hand a little, arm full of IVs, and kisses the back of it.
It's salty—like the ocean he dreamed to cross as a plane pilot he never got the license for due to his illness. What would he have done, if he had achieved his dreams? The once fun sea, full of dreams, is now desolate and empty.
And now, only full of pain when every day is a struggle to live that he can barely be conscious for any of it at all.
"Your" heart aches, and "your" hand returns his onto the bed.
He doesn't deserve to be in such a pain when there is no hope, especially when "you" had so much of it. There was always "hope", whether it be a salvation or a double-edged sword that cuts deeply into "your" heart.
"Your" hand wavers near the machine that keeps up the life support system.
Hope is no longer here.
Hope is dead.
And "you" wrap your finger around the cord connected to the life of the machine. ]
2/2
Oria, who's still holding Sinclair's hand, points at a mirror that makes them look flat like the result of an animated cartoon roadroller pancake. ]
—hair looks really weird like this. Maybe I could...
[ He turns to Sinclair. ]
Hey, you alright?
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[Sinclair doesn't startle this time. He stares at the mirror, slowly blinking as the edges of the memory fade into his mind. That wasn't him. That wasn't his memory. He never held a love like that so strong and intense. He had never been in the hospital like that, watching over someone he loved fade away slowly in such a painful way.
It hurts to 'remember'.
But how much more had it hurt for Oria to live in that moment?
Sinclair blinks, and there tears in his eyes now and he shakes his head, rubbing at his eyes with his free hand. How embarrassing]
I don't know...I think I need to sit down.
[His head pounds with the weight of a memory that isn't his. It feels invasive, wrong.]
no subject
So I didn't say anything weird? What's wrong?
[ He won't tell Sinclair not to cry, but he wants to understand what makes him so sad all of a sudden. There's really nothing but mirrors around them, reflecting nothing but their avatars in every angle. There's nowhere to sit. ]
... Here.
[ Oria gently leads Sinclair downwards so that they can both sit on the ground. ]
1/2
[He sniffles a little and sinks to the ground gratefully as he rubs his eyes. He has to be honest. But it's hard to raise this]
I saw something I shouldn't have seen. Felt it, like it was my own.
[He shakes his head and curls up a little, burying his face against his legs]
Strange isn't it?
[And if Oria looks at the mirror behind Sinclair, he might catch a glimpse of it again - that fateful school day. There's no looking away because now it's "you".]
2/2 cw some ableism
She's dangerous. You know this well. But you're caught in her spiderweb, a pitiful being who can't break free on its own.
Not yet. You hold yourself very still when she leans in close.
"Sinclair. Remember. You owe me for helping you. So return the favour. You can help me with this project as a bonus--"
No. That wasn't fair. You hadn't done anything wrong, anything but have been foolish enough to allow another classmate to look at your work and then been accused of plagiarism instead. She might have helped, but that wasn't--you didn't want to let her into your home. Especially not your dad's laboratory. But how can you say that now?
"I...I..."
Be brave. Be brave.
Being brave wasn't your strong suit. Thankfully, there's someone else to speak up for you.
"Sorry Kromer. But Sinclair and I are working together. He made a promise with me first." A clear cool voice cuts across the room, and another boy stands next to you. He's tall, pale - almost deathly so - and his eyes are a sharp, piercing blue. But you barely notice that, distracted by the necklace he was wearing, with an odd red symbol.
And just like that, Kromer steps away. Her smile is stiff, but easy going.
"Is that right? You should have said so, Sinclair. Next time then."
You breathe out slowly, the panic fading and you finally relax enough to smile.
"...thank you, Demian."
Demian smiles. He's everything you want to be.
"Does she scare you, Sinclair? She shouldn't. Not unless--"
And the image fades away, the words dying off unsaid.
What was it he had told you back then? You wont know, because you're no longer at school. But a dark little house of mirrors, and Sinclair is still on the floor.]
no subject
[ His voice trails off when he starts remembering things that aren't his own experiences. It's quite a surreal moment to feel emotions that don't belong to him, that he had long since cut off to the best of his ability.
Oria does his best to take it in, to accept it, even if it doesn't feel like it belongs to him. He's been good at that his entire life, after all. Now he remembers another thing—that girl... she was the one who ruined Sinclair in so many ways—why he's saddled with such a horrific trauma. He's seen it on the news. He's heard it from his father. Surely, Sinclair must have been going through so much—
—and the justice system had failed him too. He knows how this works by now, and it really was unfortunate that it happened this way. But why? Because of what Sinclair owed her?
When his focus returns to the hall of mirrors with Sinclair, he remembers the words he said right before being felt like he got sucked into that memory. ]
... No. It's not strange. I felt something too... a similar thing you did. Probably.
no subject
You too? [A small bitter part of Sinclair can't help but think that most of his life was up for display now, so it shouldn't bother him at all. Not like Oria.
No. That wasn't true. Oria's family is powerful. People were envious of that. Even at those parties, people had smiled with so much teeth. If they had a chance...
He hadn't paid much attention to it at the time, caught up in his own problems. But now that he had seen that, he remembers.
If he doesn't say it now, he wont have the courage to bring it up again]
...I'm sorry. I saw--you were at the hospital, with someone.
no subject
With... who?
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A boy our age, I think. [The memory hadn't given him a name, and honestly, in the state that boy was in, Sinclair doubt he would have recognised him]
...you loved him a lot.
no subject
... I see.
[ He smiles a little, though a bit wistful. ]
That one, huh. Sorry you had to see that.
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