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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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( Mithrun watches, too... This really is more convenient than reality. No wonder VR addiction is on the rise. )
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Talking about secrets I shouldn't have. Not being honest. Running away.
[He'll check on Mithrun's temperature and take away the towels when he seems like he's cooled down a little. Taking care of someone else helps keep his mind at ease at least]
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Have you lost the will to keep living, after all that?
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...no. Is that selfish? That even after everything, I want to keep living?
[He hasn't figured out why. He hasn't stopped feeling a strange sense of sadness with every day he wants up and finds himself in a drab apartment, and no warmth in sight. No one to go home to, no clear goal in mind...but he kept going.]
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I don't know if the worth of a life is defined only by its mistakes. But if you still have the desire to live, there's more left for you, still.
( Good things? Bad things? Who even knows; it's life. But being selfish - wanting within reason - isn't inherently evil. You need to be selfish to live. )
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The words are oddly comforting and he nods a little, and tries for a smile. It's a little shaky. He's learning how to smile propely all over again after all. Bit by bit he's still moving ]
...maybe not. I'd be sad if you had baked in the plaza. [ More left for him, huh? But it's scary to want things. He draws in a steady breath and picks himself up]
You're different from what I remember.
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... It's one price I paid for my mistakes. ( One of several. ) I probably would've had something more articulate to say, before.
( Something comforting for Sinclair... Something completely and utterly fake, granted, but let's not be greedy now, )
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[ It's that strange sense of honesty that soothes him, knowing whatever Mithrun said or did, he didn't have the inclination or desire to outright lie. He glances over at Mithrun]
I like that you're honest now. It means more.
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... )
... I see. ( Hm. ) Maybe some mistakes have positive riders attached.
( Like some good coming from a mistake? Or something.
Mithrun doesn't have moral qualms about the mistakes he's made, necessarily - though he's aware others reasonably might - but he's never thought about them from this angle. His mistakes were bad for many, but... maybe, for some people, like Sinclair, it was for the better.
Maybe it's the same for Sinclair, too. )
We probably wouldn't have gotten to talk like this if our lives were different.
( He doesn't say that as a "so maybe it's for the best we made the mistakes we made" way - it's just an observation. Maybe Sinclair's life would've been better if he'd not done the things he'd done. Maybe the life he has now's the best he's going to get. Mithrun wouldn't know, and he isn't the judge.
But if he'd not trusted his professor, he might have still joined the beta - but he wouldn't have had his accident, and he doesn't know if Sinclair would have wanted to talk to him openly, like this. )
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Maybe not.
[ Who would either of them have been? Would they have walked the same paths, been the same people?]
...I guess we'll never know for sure.
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( For better, or worse... But maybe the appeal of VR is the illusion of being able to be someone new. Something to consider.
He wriggles a little. )
... I think I'm feeling well enough to walk now. Were you also going to the carnival?
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[That's why Sinclair had signed up after all. If he could escape, even briefly...it made everything a little easier]
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( Slowly, a little wobbly but steady enough, he gets to his feet. Off they go...! )
... Have you been to a carnival before?
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Mm. A few times when I was younger. I think the last time I went, I was twelve?
[And then his older sister lost interest, so he lost interest too]
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I see... I've never been. My parents considered them kind of poor.
My brother liked them, though.
( He knows the definition of a carnival, though, so he more or less expects the general concepts heard of before. )
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...oh, I see. I think they're fun. Or at least, they can be a great way to just relax with people.
[Brightening]
Oh, that means it'll all be new for you, wont it?
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He nods. )
Is there any carnival activity you'd recommend?
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[The toys are cute...but inventory space...]
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The house of mirrors...? Is it exactly what the name implies?
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Yeah. They're a bunch of mirrors that pull you into funny shapes. Sometimes they have weird moving platforms and sides too so you can run around with friends.
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... We can visit it, if you want.
( He doesn't seem to get it, but he sure seems open to the idea... When they get to the carnival, it's all funky and colorful and full of sweet-smelling air, laden with the scent of snacks... with a hall of mirrors attraction near the front. )
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Yeah? Let's go then. We can get something to eat and try the games after.
[Just gently tugging Mithrun along. He doesn't hold hands with many people but he kind of worries if he lets go of Mithrun now, he'll collapse]
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Not an unfair concern to have, considering. Mithrun is willingly tugged along inside, where he seems kind of curiously perplexed once he gets inside, and sees them in the first set of funny mirrors. )
... I see. It's meant to be surprising.
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Mm. My sister and I used to practice making faces with them to see what it would look like.
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"How dare you raise your voice at your mother!"
Scowling, your shirk back, but you understand this is the point at which you must relent with a begrudging smile and apology, and so you do. You say that it is truly an honor, and that you were simply surprised by the suddenness of the news. After all, it is tradition for only the oldest child to attend, and you are not that. To be considered worthy to take his brother's place, truly, is an honor.
Really.
You leave your mother's office gently but storm down the grand hallways of your castlelike home once the door's closed; down the red-carpet hallway along ornate cream-gold walls, grand windows along the opposite wall that faces into such gorgeous gardens. You know that in the coming days and months, weak arguments and schemes to escape this fate will occur to you, but some part of you knows nothing can be done. You are to be sent to one of the most prestigious boarding schools that funnels directly into a university-level program, and it is for only the best and the richest (richest may supersede best) of all children in the United States. It is prepurchased, permanent success. Any adult would kill for this opportunity.
But you are 14, and what you see is a jailhouse. You will be doing twelve hours of lessons daily from now until you graduate, and you cannot come home, and you cannot leave campus grounds, and you will be trapped with other boys, and you will have to do the academic programme that your parents picked for you, and you will have to do the fixed extracurriculars, too. You will have to do horseback riding and lacrosse and tennis. Who even cares about horseback riding and lacrosse and tennis?
You're angrier the more you think about it. You don't want to do work in physics, you want to— you don't know. You still need to figure it out. You kind of liked the idea of becoming a chef. But your parents say that's not only embarrassing and poor-minded, you have to do research in applied physics, because it will be an economically advantageous field in the coming years and your parents are investors.
And what does your brother get to do? Anything he wants, apparently. Must be nice!
"Morgan!"
And here he comes.
He wheels up to you in his wheelchair, bright-eyed. Your dog, a British golden retriever called Cheesecake (your mother named her something pretentious and Gaelic, but you and your brother always call her Cheesecake, because she's colored like one), trotting up behind him like a blithe guardian.
"Morgan, I just heard from the maid. She said you're getting enrolled. That's incredible."
Oh, so the gossip's already gone around. Great.
You look at your brother - diminutive in his seat, gangly and thin and ravaged by disease, empty-headed in his smile and with features and hair and eyes that don't resemble anyone else's in the family line - and how he beams at you with all the love and pride in the world. He thinks it's an honor, that because he's too weak and incompetent to go, you have to go in his stead. Any family that's anybody has to send one child. And since it's not him, it's you. So while you have to brace against the bars of your cage, he gets to wheel around and do whatever he wants, for the rest of his life, coasting off inheritance, forcing respect purely because he's the oldest child.
He's older than you, and you did get a bad feeling when he wasn't carted off to this boarding school; really, you should have predicted this development.
Your brother, despite rumors, is the legitimate child of the family. You are not. And maybe it's because you are by blood impure that your parents - who do not even like their eldest son! - fix you as lesser than him in all ways. You have to respect him, even though you're better-looking and smarter and more sociable. You have to take on his burdens, even though you won't even get half the inheritance he does. You—
"Morgan?"
You realize you've been glaring and silent and storming. Like with your mother, you put yourself together quick, and you blast your lovely little smile at him. The usual.
"Oh, sorry! I was just thinking. I've got a lot to prepare, since I'll have to move out pretty soon. Thanks. I'll miss everyone when I'm gone."
"I'll miss you too," he says, a sadness coloring his eyes. "Won't have anyone to talk to around here while you're gone."
"Well, there's always the maids, right?"
"Yeah, I... I guess." He sighs. You know he's generally left out of social engagements. The state of his health and his looks and his awkward personality embarrass your parents grossly. "But, hey— speaking of, Niamh was just here, and—"
"Niamh?!" you exclaim, a flush already at your cheeks. You've always liked Niamh. Like, like-liked. She was a little older and kind of shifty and she always had boys wrapped around her finger, but she was pretty and smart and she didn't judge you at all, even though you aren't as nice as you act. You could confide in her. She's even confided in you, too. She told you you were special. "Niamh's— Was she here for me?"
He shakes his head. "No, she was just in the area, so she invited me for lunch, and we just went since you were with mom. But I wanted to let you know she said hi."
And here, you feel your chest go cold. Your brother smiling in his repulsive ignorance, unaware of a future you could see so clearly coming: a future where you are not there, and your brother is allowed the freedom to do as he loves, and court whom he pleases. Even Niamh. Even though he's so worth much less than her.
But if he is so low, what does that make you, who is so far beneath him? )
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1/2
2/2 CW: PET DEATH
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2/2