Chimkin-Samich (Comms closed)

A tall wooden fence. Visibly worn down.

Old and tattered from exposure. The wooden pillars are splintered at the edges. The majority of them have taken on a green tint as a result of mossy growth.

The structure spans across a wide area, wrapping around acres of healthy land. Land which appears to be unnaturally empty as a result of the established nature of the wooden borders.

What appears as an empty plot of grassy land is by no means what it seems. Such is one of the many lessons that have already been learned about this fantastical reality, born of human ingenuity.

A simple gate marks the primary means of entering and exiting the space. The gate is in much greater condition, visually, than the surrounding wooden pillars. Not an ounce of rust is visible upon the metal. Not one hint of encroaching moss.

As the owner of the gate extends her hand to pull it open, it doesn’t make a sound. 

Not a squeak. Not a creak. Not a whimper. The hinges are well oiled. Well maintained. As is everything that the Druid has taken possession of.

“You can go in~” The woman says, a soft and playful lull in her tone.

A moment of hesitance transpires. Brought about reflexively, as a result of prior conversations. Though a quick flick of the head to further encourage the visitor to step inside. Which proves to be enough.

With a deep breath and the internal resolve to turn around and jump the fence should things go awry, the Warlock steps through the open gate.

The magical illusion of emptiness falls. The empty, grassy field disappears entirely. In its place stands a far, far greater expanse of land. Lush with grass on one side, while the other supports untold varieties of healthy looking trees.

A narrow, flowing river carves the space right down the middle. That river presumably leads to some sort of pond that rests somewhere beyond the current line of sight.

The Druid, Ayala, calmly closes the gate behind her as she too steps into this expanse of magical land. Following which she offers a casual pat to the back of the visibly stunned and enamored Warlock in training.

“You good, hun~?” The woman asks, amusement very obvious in her tone.

“It's beautiful!...” The Warlock, Antares, responds. Her voice light and cracking slightly, as she has been damn near pushed to tears by the raw beauty of the landscape.

“It is, isn’t it?” Ayala hums in response, her own voice settling down into a quiet trill as she herself succumbs to the beauty of the scene. Even if only for a moment. Following which she offers the other a gentle nudge. “Well, don’t just stand there gawking! We won’t find you familiar just hovering by the gate all day!” She then chuckles, which seems to be enough to encourage her guests to start moving.

“Yes! Right. Right…” Antares jolts in response, before quickly settling. She sets out to follow alongside her guide, still internally anxious as a result of the particular brand of cautionary tale that she had been fed prior to this event.

A tale in which it was made clear that those who make the mistake of trespassing upon animal enclosures, such as this one, will inevitably find themselves being torn apart by a menagerie of territorial beasts. Beasts which would have locked on to their location the instant that their feet made contact with the ground, if not the moment that they passed over the border of the fence.

The way that the story was told, it was made clear that this was an intentional design choice. A means of preventing malicious individuals from breaking into protected lands to steal pre-tamed entities for themselves. Something which is, apparently, incredibly tempting. Namely because tamed creatures have a higher chance of producing offspring with rare stats and colors, when compared to wild spawn chances.

Anyone who doesn’t have express permission to enter will inevitably find themselves swarmed and attacked by the adult beasts. But because the babies are comparatively weak and fairly easy to force-tame, the temptation is still there. Some people still try. And somehow, some of them will make off with a valuable creature. At which point the actual owner of the beast will no longer be able to get it back.

According to Ayala, she herself has very little reason to fear this outcome. Most who are unfortunate enough to have a beast stolen from them, do not have a very large collection.

She, however, does.

She has an incredibly large collection, in fact. That much was established not only verbally beforehand, but has been made clear as day now that the pair are actually inside of the enclosure.

There are animals everywhere. Birds flying across the field. Mammalian creatures of all sizes darting through the grass.

Everything in the enclosure was made aware of them as soon as they stepped through the gate. Which in turn means that everything inside is curious.

Antares naturally freezes as the first of those curious animals make their presence known.

Some sort of small, furry thing resembling a weasel quite literally crawls up onto her foot so that it can sniff at her leg.

The little beast does not growl or bite or otherwise display any amount of aggression. It just sniffs at her leg for a few moments, before turning around and disappearing back into the grass. Following which the Warlock allows herself to relax, even if only slightly.

“Relax.” Ayala hums as she gives the other another soft nudge. “You’re safe.” She states, just re-establishing an earlier promise.

Those who trespass will, in fact, be killed if they get themselves caught. But anyone with permission to enter, especially if they are being personally escorted by the owner of the enclosure, will not be harmed. So long as they do not go out of the way to pick any fights.

“R-right!” Antares stammers in response, before awkwardly clearing her throat. “So, uh… How exactly does this work?” She then asks.

She is aware of why they are here. But the how is quite beyond her current range of understanding.

She is brand new, after all. She’s barely been here for a few days and has just been trying to get settled in. Now that she’s actually at the point where she’s being shown how to do something, she’ll be needing that extra guidance.

“Well, you’re a bit of a special case.” Ayala responds. As she does, she holds up her hand to allow a bird to fly over and land in her palm. 

A cute little yellow bird with a small patch of black between its eyes.

She allows the bird to look the stranger over, before it then flies off.

“Under normal circumstances, you’d be restricted to a much smaller pool of possible tames. Very weak creatures that would only be made powerful, as a result of the magic granted to you by your Patron.” She explains, her eyes following the bird as it leaves. “Little birds. Mice. Frogs. Those would normally be the sort of creature that you’d be restricted to, for a first time. But thanks to the little arrangement that you have with the developers, you’re actually able to jump straight to an intermediate beast. Something like a wolf, a lion, or a small wyvern.” She explains further, just expanding upon what she’s said before.

That last piece of information, naturally, catches the Warlock’s attention.

“Wait, really?” Antares asks, immediately intrigued by the idea of taming something like a dragon.

That was what a wyvern was, right? A type of dragon? One that was built more like a bat, so it only had four limbs? That would be cool!

“I reiterate, a small wyvern.” Ayala states, her tone shifting accordingly to make it as clear as she can that Antares will not be able to tame the sort of mighty beast that she might be thinking of. “The breeds within your capabilities won’t grow to be any bigger than a dog. I’m talking a central body that only gets to be about as big as something like a German Shepherd. The wings, neck, and tail might add more overall size. But the wyverns in question are bottom of the food chain, when compared to others of their ilk.” She says, further expanding upon the limitations. Just to make sure that her guests didn’t go and get themselves all excited over the idea of being able to tame a wyvern; only to be disappointed by how small it would actually be.

Then again, she is failing to take into account that, for the average person, a small dragon is still a dragon! Antares doesn’t need the beast to be big enough to eat whole cows for breakfast. She is merely excited by the possibility of being able to tame a dragon!

“Cool!” The Warlock replies, enthusiasm clear in her tone. Which in turn coaxes a soft, amused sigh out of the Druid.

“We’ll go and check to see how the Wyverns are doing, then?” She suggests. Needlessly so, considering how quickly her companion nods. “Alright. Come along, then.” She sighs, rolling her eyes slightly with amusement.

Antares follows along excitedly as Ayala begins to lead the way.

They must first cross the river to venture from the field into the forest. Then they must walk for a little while, until they happen upon a strange structure.

A second, very small fence. Four sides, one of which is a gate. All of the sides, equal size to the fence.

The Warlock furrows her brows in confusion, baffled as to why this might be here.

“Wyverns tend to prefer different terrain.” Ayala says. “I have a primary enclosure built for things that like to live in forest and fields. Then I have sub-enclosures that lead to other environments. Like mountains and deserts.” She explains as she pulls open the gate and motions for the other to step in. “Go on~” She muses, well aware of how visually disorienting it is going to be for Antares once she steps through.

And, of course, she is correct. It is incredibly disorienting to step through a tiny gate in the middle of a forest, only for that forest to entirely disappear and to transform into a rocky clearing.

The layout here is similar. A big rocky clearing with some grass on one side, then visible mountains and cliffs on the other. Divided by a river, which visually seems to have carved its way through solid stone.

Antares actually gets dizzy as a result of the abrupt change. Which means that she needs to take a few moments to sit down and let her mind catch up.

Ayala just chuckles, muttering something along the lines of “Yeah, I remember that” as she stands idle to wait for her companion to recover. Following which she extends her hand as an offer to help the Warlock back onto their feet.

“That was wild.” Antares mutters, only to earn an understanding nod from the Druid.

“It gets easier, the more you do it.” She states, referencing the disorientation and how quickly it fades, following such an abrupt visual transition.

She then shifts and smiles, having spotted something. Something which she goes on to point out to the other.

“We have an audience~” She says.

Antares cannot help but look. At which point she discovers that multiple creatures have gathered around the border of the river, at the far side.

There are only so many words that can be used to describe the manner in which her face lights up at the sight of what she sees.

There are griffins! Wyverns! Sphinx! Mythological creatures, the likes of which she would otherwise only have been able to see in the form of dreams and paintings! Complete and utter fantasy in the world that she came from, but a stunning reality in this digital space.

She is absolutely delighted by the sight of them. Enamored by all of the different ways that their bodies are shaped. Especially the wyverns!

The small, draconic beasts overtop one another like excited dogs and cats. Their bodies sport a huge range of colors; red to orange to blue to green to black, and even more than that! Some with faces shaped more like birds; angular with elongated snouts that effortlessly hide rows of sharpened teeth. Others seem more reptilian, with smoother faces that more reliably show off the faintest hint of deadly fangs.

Some have feathers. Some have scales. Some are covered in fur. There are even some in the water, and those that reside there have skin better resembling that of a fish or a frog.

Every one of them appears to be excited! There is a visual eagerness to approach and observe this new presence that has found its way into their domain. But even so, each of these creatures; which is more than capable of jumping or flying over the narrow path of water; behaves as if kept at bay by the borders of the water-carved stone.

The noises that they make as they crawl all over one another is another adventure on its own. There are sounds akin to the cackling of a hyena, or the screeching of an owl. Deep, booming darks and clacking calls that sound more akin to gunfire than to any noise that an animal should make.

Antares cannot help but stand and stare in awe as she observes the cacophony of flailing animals. Whereas Ayala, after allowing the dramatic display to carry on for a few minutes, effortlessly puts a stop to the chaos through the use of a shrill whistle.

She blows air harshly through tight teeth, creating a sharp sound that cuts effortlessly through the symphony of animal sounds. Following which the creatures all immediately still, ears perked and eyes focused entirely upon her.

Then, she says something. Something that the Warlock cannot understand. Something in a language not meant for her to understand.

But the animals understand it. They understand both her words and the motions of her hand as she calmly waves her arm while snapping her fingers.

Visual chaos rapidly conforms to order. The beasts all quickly untangle themselves from one another.

Every one of them sits and waits for further instructions, their eyes fully fixated upon the form of their shared master. Bodies visually tense with excitement, though that excitement is far more contained than it was moments prior.

Once more, the woman speaks.

A portion of the creatures stand, reluctantly back away, and turn around to leave the scene. Those creatures consisting of anything that is not a wyvern.

Antares stands where she is, baffled by how effortlessly Ayala took command of the situation. Just a whistle and a few words, and everything that she addressed understood her completely.

“Perks of being a Druid.” Ayala dryly chuckles, before she motions towards a small stone bridge that will take them across the narrow river. Which she and Antares quickly head towards. “You’re welcome to look over all of the adults here. But you’ll be binding a baby as your familiar.” She states.

“How come?” Antares asks as she follows the Druid across the short bridge. All the while she stares down into the water, watching the water-dwelling wyverns even as they stare up at her curiously.

“Your magic is weak.” Ayala states calmly. “You are allowed to tame something far stronger than you would normally be able to tame. But you are not strong enough, or experienced enough, to tame and bind an adult creature. Not one as strong of will as a wyvern.” She explains, before pausing and chuckling. “Also, all of the adults here are mine. They’re fully tamed. You can’t tame them, you can only receive them as gifts. And I’m not giving you one. It would negate the point of teaching you how to tame.” She then adds, revealing the more accurate reason as to why Antares won’t be able to take her pick of any of the adult wyverns present.

Either way, she can’t tame them. A wild one would have too much willpower to be bent to her will, and an already tamed one can’t be tamed by someone else. Probably to prevent theft.

Antares makes a show of pouting. Only to laugh as Ayala says something to the effect of “Maybe once you’ve earned enough coin, I’ll sell you one~”. Though it is unclear as to whether or not she is joking.

Once safely on the other side of the river, on the flatter terrain bordering the surrounding mountains, the Warlock is allowed to observe and interact with the wyverns. Just for a few minutes.

Ayala teaches the Warlock about the different wyvern types, as she enjoys her interaction time. Which is less about going over the various distinct species that are all in front of them, and more about going over the different types of Wyvern and their different elemental alignments.

As an example, there are feathered, furred and scaled wyvern. Which is just a fancy way of saying that “This is a visual trait used to identify a specific wyvern family”. Determined by checking the central body. Namely because all wyverns have some amount of scaling; but not all wyverns are primarily covered in scales.

The water dwelling wyverns are no different. They can be primarily covered in fur, feathers, or scales. They just happen to have special traits that allow them to spend much of their time fully submerged.

Color, meanwhile, is the way that you determine a wyvern’s elemental alignment. Which, yeah. That makes sense. It is a very common thing to do in games. The developers of the simulated world would obviously have the incentive to do the same, because that would make it easier for people to quickly figure things out.

A dominantly red wyvern is a fire elemental. White is “Radiance”, which is just a fancy way of saying divine light. Yellow is lightning, which is pretty obvious. If  the color can be associated with an element, there is a very real chance that you are accurate. Though Ayala herself will admit that it can be more complicated than that.

One of the present wyverns, for example, is what she describes as a “Gaian”. Which is, apparently, a fancy way to say that it is a nature elemental. It apparently sprays water from its mouth that has no offensive capabilities, and is instead used to promote plant growth. All of the offensive capabilities of its elemental alignment come in the form of modifications that said alignments do to its body. Which can change based upon if it is a furred, feathered, or scaled wyvern.

She points out that this specific wyvern is scaled. The scales on its back and tail are longer and can be individually moved. These scales visually resemble leaves, and are sharp as knives. The wyvern can launch these scales at a target like throwing knives, and the scales quickly grow back in.

“Gaian” Wyverns are both animal and plant. They gain energy from the sun and do not need to eat as frequently, or as much, as other wyverns.

They are also incredibly rare. As are another elemental class, “Mender”, which have offensive magic properties at all but are instead healers. Which makes them highly sought after.

“I can’t give you a Mender or a Gaian wyvern, though.” Ayala eventually sighs. “I haven’t been able to find partners or either of the ones that I have. They’re rare, and whenever one spawns, someone else usually gets to it before I can.” She explains, before she shakes her head. “Not that it’d have made a difference. The few times they’ve spawned, they weren’t the right sex. So I’d just wind up with two that I can’t breed.” She adds, before she motions for Antares to follow. “That’s enough for now. Let's go and check out the babies. See if any of them catch your eye.” She instructs.

Antares follows along, albeit reluctantly. It is very hard for her to want to listen when there is a pretty green wyvern going out of its way to demand attention.

The creature actually follows closely after the pair, and makes regular attempts at rubbing its head and neck against the Warlock’s legs whenever the opportunity arises.

Greenie is either an abnormally affectionate wyvern, or tamed wyverns are just affectionate in nature. As of now, it is unclear. But Antares would like to hope that she’ll find herself fortunate enough to tame a baby that will become as affectionate as their little tagalong.

The two of them will need to spend a fair amount of time climbing up the established mountain paths.

Wyverns nest up high, in rocky terrain. They intentionally build nests in areas that are difficult to reach. Tunnels and paths get carved directly into stone to create a suitable environment for the hatchlings.

Each nest is also connected to multiple paths. Some of which are fake, and lead to dead ends. Others lead directly to the exterior of the mountain. That way if a predator gets in, the hatchlings will hopefully be able to escape before that predator can find them.

Once they’ve reached the nesting area, Ayala actually has to coax out the hatchlings because neither she nor Antares would be able to reliably climb into the actual nests.

The adult wyverns help. While Ayala tries to coax babies out for her to scoop them up and show them off to Antares, adults will climb into their nests to usher the babies out.

She explains elemental rarity and how the breeding works when you’re breeding tames. The commons are fire, lightning, and ice. Next tier up are Noxious and Acid. Noxious is just the fancy way of saying that the dragon utilizes toxins of some sort to deal damage. After that are Radiant and Ethereal dragons. Radiant being thought of as holy light, whereas Ethereal dragons are more associated with darkness, fear, and death. The rarest of the elementals are Gaian and Mend, the nature elementals and the healers.

When breeding, there is always some chance of producing an elemental of a higher tier of rarity. The elemental alignment of the parent does have some influence, so if you get a baby of the same rarity, it is more than likely to make the parent’s element. But it is never guaranteed.

Offspring will have the greatest chance of hatching as their lowest rarity parent. With chances for higher or lower tiers adjusting based on the tier.

“The math is rigged.” She says. “Breeding two Ethereal dragons doesn’t give me a high chance of getting a Gaian or a Mend. It just gives me the highest possible chance. I’ll be more than likely to get another Ethereal, or an element from the next tier down.” She grumbles, before shaking her head. “But I guess that’s the point. The higher the rarity, the better the stats, and the more unique the skills. If someone could just mass produce the two highest rarity dragons, there wouldn’t really be any incentive to breed lower tiers.” She explains. All the while she holds up a random baby wyvern for Antares to look over.

Thus far, none of them have really caught her eye. At least, none more so than the previous.

She’s looking at baby dragons. It is physically impossible for her to not get excited every time she’s shown a new one. She just has yet to be shown one that somehow stands out to her more than any of the previous.

Until Ayala pulls up a weird looking little thing. One of the baby feathered wyverns that is currently covered in ugly little pin-feathers. Stuck in that awkward transitional stage where cute downy fluff is transforming into proper feathers, leading to a creature that looks more like a living pile of lint than an actual animal.

This particular hatchling, or whelp as she calls it, is almost completely black. It has an angular, bird-like head and beak-like mouth. The front of its muzzle appears almost very dark purple, with a hint of blue.

Once Ayala is holding it, it hisses. Leathery skin peels back into a threatening snarl to show off small but visibly sharp teeth, and a long, forked tongue slides out to taste the air.

Ayala makes a face as she looks over the weirdly agitated whelp.

“Well, aren’t you a little bastard.” She states, which only seems to encourage the creature to snarl at her more. Thus making her eyes widen slightly. “Oooh, big bastard~” She chuckles, giving the hatchling a more thorough look over. “You are going to be an absolute menace, once you’re grown.” She hums.

Antares, meanwhile, cannot help but eye the little beast with enthusiasm.

“This one.” She states, just to make it known that she wants to try and tame this particular hatchling. Which seems to catch the Druid off guard.

“... I wouldn’t recommend it.” Ayala replies, her eyebrow raised. All the while the hatchling in her hand continues to snarl and hiss at her like the little bastard that it is. “Ethereals can be difficult to manage on a good roll. This one, however” she says while holding the little creature up closer to Antares, so that it can snarl in her face “has a very abrasive personality.” She states. Though when the Warlock appears to be unconvinced, she just offers the whelp for her to hold. “He will be combative. Argumentative and rebellious. If you’re looking to be stuck with an angsty teenager forever, be my guest. But do not expect any sympathy from me when he causes problems. Because I promise you, he is going to cause problems.” She explains.

Antares remains unswayed, and instead excitedly reaches out to accept the hatchling. Which snarls and hisses at her just like it did with Ayala. All the while it shifts to look directly at Antares, now that she is the one actively holding it.

“How do I tame him?!” The Warlock excitedly asks, effectively sealing her fate.

She is making what Ayala believes to be a horrible choice. But she is an adult, and this is her choice to make. So she will have to live with whatever consequence comes about as a result.

“First, you must bind him.” Ayala says, referencing a very specific spell that a Warlock has access to. A binding spell that locks the soul of an animal to their own, thus making it into a familiar. Something that will grow in power as they do and serve their needs, both inside and outside of combat.

As she says this, she motions towards her right eye. Reminding Antares as to how she’ll access her spells.

The system uses eye tracking and cognitive inputs. To access spells, one must first have the urge to pull up the HUD, and then they must use their eyes to look over at and “click” on the spellbook. Which is done by winking the right eye.

This pulls up a windowed display. Something that overlays against surrounding visuals, allowing a player to remain aware of their surroundings while they’re accessing things like their spellbook, inventory, or looking at information.

As Antares gets used to being here, the process will get smoother. She’ll be able to eventually reach a point where she can open and close these things without needing to even use her eyes. But as of now, while she is brand new, the process requires a little extra cognitive effort.

“A-alright, uh…” The Warlock sort of rambles quietly to herself as she struggles to go through the process. She pulls up her HUD and then accesses her spellbook, finding the only spell that she actually has access to at the moment. The binding spell. Which is described as a spell that challenges the will of a non-tamed creature in order to both dominate and take control of a beast.

This is where Druids and Warlocks differ. Druids communicate with beasts and tame them more passively. Whereas Warlocks use their magic to force desired beasts to bend to their will, forming magical bonds that will bind the beast to them.

Druids earn the cooperation of their animal companions and are often loved by them. Whereas a Warlock can enact control over a creature, even if that creature hates them.

Warlocks can also use their magic to transform a familiar into other creatures. Which is something that a Druid cannot do. The Druid, instead, changes themself with magic to fight as a beast.

They are considered to be polar opposites, in terms of their intended implementation. There are even arguments that can be made over one side being evil in comparison to the other, but this amounts more to personal perception than anything else.

The spell that Antares must use is a ritual spell. Requiring a drop of her blood to be offered up so that the magic of her Patron can be called upon. For her specifically, that Patron is the Architect of Imagination. A chaotic being with chaotic magic.

The finer details of the ritual go on to explain that it is required that she draw the blood herself. It cannot be pulled from a wound that she did not create through the use of her own will.

It also states that finding a way to apply her blood directly to the body of the creature that she seeks to bind will greatly increase the odds of success.

The spell is never guaranteed. There is always a chance of failure. But failure is only a temporary setback that creates a need for additional time. She can make as many attempts to bind an entity as she needs. She just has to be able to see the creature in order for the spell to have the ability to succeed.

The spell itself is also unspoked, requiring focus. There are specific words that she must think while channeling the magic of her Patron. Honestly they’re nothing special.

“This soul, I seek to bind. This soul, I seek as mine. Make it mine, and make us one. Then, a new familiar shall be won.”

Nothing overly complex. But it at least rhymes, which is a nice touch. Even if it uses words that sound the same to make the rhyme happen.

Antares starts to mentally chant the spell as she reaches out to intentionally cut one of her fingers upon the small, sharp teeth of the wyvern. Which in turn leads to her finger flat out being bitten, which wasn’t entirely what she wanted, but she did intentionally create the wound so hopefully it counts.

Once she’s got a nice little wound, she takes her blood and smears it intentionally across the wyvern’s face. Something that the spell suggested. All the while she somehow remains oblivious to the fact that a summoning circle has appeared beneath her, as well as beneath the wyvern hatchling.

There isn’t any sound or anything that might make it obvious. And with her staring directly at the still hissing creature while she casts her spell, she doesn’t exactly have the chance to take notice of some fancy magical display happening on the ground.

She does, however, notice when that fancy magical display suddenly releases a flash of light. Which is apparently the way to confirm that the spell was successful.

The summoning circle flashes like a bolt of lightning, momentarily blinding Antares and breaking her concentration. Following which, she finds herself still holding the rebellious wyvern whelp. Only now, its eyes have become solid black, and there appears to be a small illusionary witch hat floating slightly above its head. Which must be the way to visually establish that a creature has been made into a familiar.

“... Congrats! You’ve tamed a bastard!” Ayala dramatically, and somewhat sarcastically exclaims as she observes the pair. Antares apparently took a few moments too long to react to her own success, which must have prompted the Druid to make her own response.

The Warlock jolts somewhat in response, before sheepishly laughing. Following which she lets out a sudden yelp as the hatchling proceeds to crane its neck around so that it can bite her right on the arm, causing her to drop them.

Which is fine. The little beast is able to slow its fall rather easily with its wings. Following which it proceeds to walk across the ground until it can reach the Warlock’s legs. One of which it immediately wraps itself around, much like a toddler might with a parent.

There is a moment of stunned silence as Antares seemingly questions all of her life choices. It certainly didn’t take long for Ayala’s warning to come into effect. This particular wyvern is indeed a bastard, and it will be making that fact her problem forever! Or until it can somehow convince her to release it.

The Druid then awkwardly clears her throat.

“... At your current level, little bastard is the only one you get to keep with you. You can technically bind as many as you want, but you can only keep one with you at a time, for now. Any others that you bind will get sent directly to your Patron, who will be in charge of looking after them. They’ll usually be kept in a pocket dimension that you’ll need to figure out how to access on your own.” She explains, just making sure that Antares will understand how her powers work.

Druids get a space easily accessed in the real world, where the beasts must be given what they need to survive. Warlocks bind animals then those animals get dragged into a pocket dimension to be looked after by some sort of godlike entity. Kept put away like toys, only being withdrawn when the Warlock has use for them.

She then starts to head back down towards the paths, so that she can make her way off of the mountain.

“You should think of a name for it.” She says, Antares following closely behind. Though her movement is slowed, as a result of a very small dragon being wrapped around one of her legs. “You’ll level up once you name it. But the name will be permanent. So think hard about what you’d like to go with.” She adds, before pausing for a moment. “There is power in a name. Whatever name you pick, it has a chance of changing something about him. I don’t know what it will be. But the meaning of a name plays a part. So you’ll need to be extra sure that you want to use it.” She says, before she resumes her descent.

The Characters: (TADC origins)

Caine: A powerful AI entity known as an Architect, and one of the beings responsible for both building and maintaining the digital reality. Caine is one of the original Architects implemented into the system. He is the embodiment of “Imagination”, and highly important for the fact that his presence allows all other entities; including the other Architects; to form illogical or creative thoughts. 

He is the creator of a section of the world known as “Cartoonland”, which is a highly stylized version of the world that has been heavily modified to create an alternate game experience. Cartoonland functions with entirely unique laws of physics, has its own distinct organisms, and is largely a more innocent section of reality within the digiverse. Think DND, if DND combat included all the crazy slapstick humor of Tom and Jerry, with a heavy mix of cartoon/dad humor.

Whereas the bulk of the world could be compared to Studio Ghibli in style; semi-realistic with plenty of fantasy notes - Cartoonland could be better compared to something like Adventure Time. One is more grounded in reality even while being fantastical, and the other takes advantage of the fact that cartoons don’t really need to conform to any laws of anatomy or logic.

After what amounts to an equivalent of 90,000 in-game years (10 or so years in the real world), Caine is finally being stripped of certain inhibitions and is now allowed to start interacting with the Non-Architect entities of the digital world. Which leads to him directly forming relationships with certain members of the cast.

To portray his cartoonish nature, Caine’s default form is something of a fantastical beast with multiple elongated limbs and body parts that can disconnect to move separate of his body. A cartoonish god, so to speak. Exaggerated and over the top.

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Abel: A powerful AI entity known as an Architect, and one of the beings responsible for both building and maintaining the digital reality. Abel is one of the original Architects implemented into the system. He is the embodiment of “Logic”, and plays a highly important role in the digital reality. Without him, none of the other AI would be capable of forming any reasonable thoughts. He is the counterpart of Caine and is responsible for the creation of the more “logical” or “realistic” aspects of the digiverse, limited only by the rules passed down to him by the developers.

His primary role now is world maintenance. It is unclear how involved he will elect to be with other entities now that he has been granted the permission to interact with them directly.

Unlike Caine, whose default form is a bit of an uncanny, illogical build that establishes his cartoonish nature; Abel is much less exaggerated. He appears much more human, coming off as someone that would feel at home in a highly organized setting; such as the military or a butler. Restrained and refined.

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Bubble: A powerful AI entity known as an Architect, and one of the beings responsible for both building and maintaining the digital reality. Bubble is the AI responsible for the creation and implementation of water and water physics. He has minor involvement with water-related weather systems, but is otherwise largely responsible for establishing how an entity will interact with water, and how water interacts with its surroundings. Like other Architects, he is responsible for maintaining the functionality of the world, and he does so primarily by keeping tabs on how these complicated liquid physics work.

Bubble can be described as chaotic and energetic. His default form resembles something of a vaguely anthro Beluga Whale; with a bulbous head and sharp teeth. Being built for the water, he swims and rarely assumes a form with legs. Instead, when out of the water, he elects to swim around in open air while seemingly riding a cloud of bubbles.

He is one of the friendlier Architects that is eager for interaction.

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Jax: One of the humans who voluntarily entered the digital space in order to avoid the plights of his original life. 

As far as other “Players” are concerned, Jax is largely considered to be an asshole and a coward. One of his favorite pastimes is to seek out lone “Players” and harass them. Generally through ambush, establishing a one-sided encounter that will ideally lead to him being the victor. He gloats as he disables his targets, steals anything on them that he might want, and despawns anything else that he can; leaving behind only equipment that the system physically prevents him from touching.

He frequently verbally bullies others, poking fun at any aspects of their appearance that catches his attention; regardless of whether these traits are “normal” or not.

Despite all of this, Jax is not someone who can handle actual confrontation. He will run at the first sign that he might not be able to win a fight, and will generally avoid any conflict where he does not fully believe himself to be capable of winning. He can be easily backed into a corner by willing to poke fun at him over his appearance or behavior, reducing him to little more than a passing annoyance to those who have figured out how to deal with him.

It is a known fact that Jax is someone who has elected to willingly forget the majority of what transpired before he uploaded his consciousness into the manufactured reality. A lesser known fact, however, is that he actually retains more memories than he would like. Particularly in relation to the traumas that he endured, which directly led to him eventually making the choice to buy his way into the digital space.

For all his cocky and abusive behavior, Jax himself is a victim of abuse. One who has gone on to repress the pain and instead contribute to the vicious cycle that, in a way, drove him to suicide. He is the product of a broken family and a violent mother; who subjected him to both physical and emotional abuse for the majority, if not all, of his original life. Rather than confront that trauma head on, he represses it; and sets out to create an environment of equal toxicity. Because that toxicity is all that he’s ever known.

Somewhere in there, a reasonable person exists. But that person is intentionally kept at bay. Put on the back-burner so that the trauma can maintain full control.

Jax is known to have previously been a part of a “Ganking” or “Griefing” squad, made up of a small handful of malicious individuals to take joy in ruining the experience of others. The sort who rely on big groups and questionable tactics in order to find and absolutely dominate those who could never help to fight backs.

It is also known that he left that group. Largely as a result of his inability to handle the hazing that was directed at him throughout his time there. He faced constant criticism for the “edgy” appearance of his chosen avatar, which inevitably led to him electing to spend most of his time in an entirely different form. Purely because he could not handle the vicious mockery that was being sent his way.

Even so, his default appearance could still be described as an Edgy looking sort of Rogue. Something that could be described as resembling Ozzy Ozzborn, if Ozzy Ozzborn was also decked out in obvious assassin gear. Hooded cape, all black clothes, lots of sharp and pointy things, eyeshadow; the works.

He only swaps back to his default form when fully alone and secure in his surroundings. Otherwise, he utilizes a Therian Avatar; one that resembles a large purple rabbit-man with wolf-like teeth and retractable claws. The purple pelt having been chosen because he considers it a “Deadly” color and associates it with poison. Whereas the teeth and claws serve more of a utility purpose, allowing him to live out the power fantasies that he uses to make himself feel stronger than he actually is.

Jax’s primary class is Rogue. He has recently multiclassed into Warlock, for the express purpose of trying to unlock access to the “fireball” spell. But he has yet to level up his magic abilities enough to make reliable use of them.

Jax carries immense guilt and trauma associated with his mother’s suicide. A suicide which was unintentionally carried out out of spite, as an attempt to control him. He was made aware of her passing shortly after he was uploaded into the digital world. This trauma has played a major role in the formation of his heavily flawed and unhealthy moral compass.

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Ragatha: One of the humans who voluntarily entered the digital space in order to prolong her life.

Ragatha’s origin is one of abrupt tragedy. Most of her history is forgotten, but for the most part it has been concluded that there was nothing particularly good or bad about her life prior to the incident that destroyed it.

Ragatha is, or rather was, the victim of an “attempted” fillicide. It is something which she has very little memory of. She does not remember the specific event or what might have triggered it. But she knows the end result. A body that was doomed to rapidly fail due to the lethal combination of poisons that destroyed many of her vital organs. Namely her liver and her kidneys; with her lungs having been damaged as a byproduct of her nearly drowning on her own vomit.

It was an event that she would never be able to recover from. And once the world developers became aware of her circumstances; she was sought out and given the offer to escape the decline early to become part of another world in which she could live out a new life in whatever way she wished.

She accepted to escape the pain. Her mother was inevitably tried and punished for causing her death. Her consciousness was uploaded into the digital world, and she readily settled in.

She is one of the few who were allowed to design their default avatar after having their consciousness uploaded, because there was such a limited amount of time in which the developers could work to make the transition happen. Which meant that she was initially placed into a randomized preset.

Even so, she ultimately elected to maintain a default human appearance; making no changes to things such as body proportions and skin tones. She only went out of her way to make sure that she would have vibrant red hair, because she found it pretty.

The class that she went on to select for herself is “Barbarian”, and she has also chosen a Farming profession. She spends most of her time in the manufactured reality working as a farmer; maintaining her land and harvesting crops. Which she uses as a means to both feed her household, and keep herself fully stocked up on in-world currency.

She does, however, go out and do a dungeon crawl once in a blue moon. Just for the thrill of the adventure. Just to see what sort of loot she might find!

Loot such as her currently equipped skin. Which originates from “Cartoonland” and is described as a “Rag Doll” skin, which has made her human avatar take on the appearance of a cloth doll.

She is very fond of the skin, because it prevents her from suffering any negative effects while working out in the sun. Meaning that she cannot get sunburn or overheat! Which comes in very handy while out in the fields.

Ragatha lives with Gangle and Zooble, who she allowed to move into her home once upon a time. Since then the pair have never left, and she has never really considered asking them to do so.

The majority of people assume that she is in a romantic/sexual relationship with the two. Which is false. She is the straight ally letting them crash at her place.

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Zooble: One of the humans who voluntarily entered the digital space in order to experience a pain-free life.

Zooble, also known as Zoey (or Zoro, when in a particular mood. Sometimes Pazuzu, though that is more of an affectionate nickname), is one of a handful of inhabitants who have retained almost all memory of her former life. Which was, by and large, nothing worth writing about in their opinion.

Zoey grew up in the city. Attended school. Faced problems with her peers, brought about by her masculine appearance. She was a tomboy by nature and eventually came out to the world as a lesbian; falling under the “Butch” category as a byproduct of her appearance and attitude. She worked a retail job (which she hated), had a small but tight knit group of friends, and a loving partner.

Life wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t bad. She would describe it as mundane at worst, considering that her only frequent grievances came about as a result of her work.

All of this changed, however, as the result of someone else’s mistakes. She was struck by a drunk driver while on her way home from a particularly draining day at work. It was an accident which miraculously left the drunk driver completely unharmed; but left her permanently disfigured, and permanently disabled.

The particular brand of damage done to her body left her with serious, chronic pain, as a result of serious nerve damage. She lost the ability to perform most basic tasks, directly leading to the loss of employment because she could no longer perform her duties. She became bound to her home, requiring some amount of routine care, and inevitably began to fester in the bitterness of her situation.

Her partner of many years left her. She became distant from friends due to her inability to partake in social gatherings that she once adored. Her simple but mundane life completely fell apart, until she was left with nothing but the chronic nerve pain to keep her company.

This naturally led to her setting out in search of some sort of relief. Medical professionals were contacted. Those medical professionals reached out to the developers of the Manufactured Reality, who in turn were encouraged to look into Zoey’s situation. Following which, it was concluded that she qualified for consciousness transfer procedure. So an offer was sent her way.

Seeing as she had nothing left to lose, Zoey accepted the offer without complaint. She designed a more masculine coded female avatar for herself, selected Rogue as her starting class, before long her consciousness was uploaded into the digital world.

Once uploaded, Zoey became something of a roaming nomad; someone who was unwilling to fully put down roots. After years of confinement in her former home, there was a deep-rooted desire to explore and see what this new reality had to offer. As well as an unwillingness to really make friends, brought about by her previous abandonment.

Even so, she would eventually find companionship. Romantic and otherwise. In the form of Gangle (known as Em to some), and Ragatha (Also known as Ann). With the former being a companion that was encountered and eventually became a romantic partner; and the latter merely being a friend.

Zoey and Em encountered one another during a dungeon crawl, with the pair hitting it off rather quickly, despite any attempts that Zoey might have made at keeping Em at an arms length. It was after their initial encounter that they began to travel together, working as a pair to explore the world map and fight their way through dungeons in order to gather and sell treasure. Which didn’t always prove to be as profitable as they would have liked, given the randomization of the loot drops and the fact that neither of them were very high level (or good at fighting).

To make up for lack of funding whenever dungeon crawls weren’t playing in their favor, the two would take up random job requests. Which directly led to them meeting Ann, who had been in need of help out on the farm. They took up the job, were offered temporary housing for the duration of their task, and then just never left. Nor were they ever asked to leave. The pair just sort of wound up unintentionally finding a place where they could comfortably set roots.

They still explore and dungeon crawl when the urge arises. But otherwise, the pair are content to remain on the farm helping to work the land. The work is fulfilling; and the pay is good.

The nickname “Zooble” and the bizarre appearance best associated with Zoey comes about as a result of a unique skin that she went out of her way to obtain. One that she spent a great deal of money on, with the express purpose of becoming more of an enigma.

Or to put it more bluntly, she became annoyed with the “Are you a boy or a girl?” questions that she was receiving as a result of her heavily masculine character design. Thus leading to her electing to track down and purchase the strangest looking character skin that she could apply. That being a Cartoonland, “toyblock” skin. One that is notorious for having dozens of different, slightly different, entirely disorganized appearances. So now, instead of being asked “Are you a boy or a girl?”, the question that she usually gets is “What even are you?”. Which is much more tolerable, and much more amusing.

Zooble has also recently started to experiment with the idea of being some form of Genderfluid. Once in a while she becomes more of a he, at which point his name is Zoro.

“Pazuzu”, meanwhile, is a playful nickname that Gangle has assigned to them as a result of their spiteful, confrontational behavior when it comes to those that they dislike. A trait which is perceived with amusement and admiration.

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Gangle: One of the humans who voluntarily entered the digital space in order to find a new life, after losing everything that made life worth living.

Gangle, otherwise known as Em, though it is unclear as to whether or not that is her real name, is but an example of another tragedy. A woman leading a content life. A reasonably paying job. A comfortable home. A living spouse. Plans to start a family, and the fortune to be in a position where those plans could be brought into action.

It was a life that took her years to make her own. And a life that was so effortlessly taken away as a result of one mistake.

Something as simple as being in the wrong place, at the wrong time. Setting out on an exciting journey, which would have ideally led them down the path that would bring them to exactly where they wanted to be.

One missed light. One stop that never happened. And then that path suddenly led straight into a wall. Unforgiving and unwilling to yield.

While making a routine journey to the doctor, Em and her partner were struck by an oncoming semi truck. The impact was brutal. The resulting crash was severe. The life of her partner was lost, and the life of the other driver was inevitably taken by their own hand.

Em, meanwhile, survived. But survival came at a price. The loss of many futures. The complete loss of her mobility. An inability to do so much as lift her head.

She was left completely paralyzed, with much of her body having been so badly damaged that the process of surgical repair would have taken an unreasonable number of attempts. If not for the numbness that had overtaken every aspect of her physical being, the pain alone would have been debilitating. But it never could have amounted to the pain of the loss that had taken root in her heart.

News of her story inevitably made its way to the Developers of the digital world. Who set out to deliver the offer to start anew, in a new reality, with a new form. They made this offer in person, very intentionally, out of the desire to express their deepest condolences in regards to her suffering.

Em accepted the offer. With the help of the developers, she designed a new body for herself. She chose to be human. Bard would be her class, for she has always had a love for music and expression.

In order to escape the pain of her loss, she also went out of her way to try and forget all of the experiences that inevitably brought her to this world. Only to find herself alone in a new reality, with the ghost of these memories following her wherever she goes. She does not remember the specifics. But no matter how much she might wish to forget, she could never separate herself from that which made her what she is now. She forgot the names, the faces, the dates; but never the truth, and the harsh reality that it brings.

Following her arrival in the digital space, Em set out to find a new path to walk. She began to explore this fantastical new world that she found herself in, going from place to place in search of whatever adventures there were to find. All the while she longed for connections that she never quite seemed to be able to find. Until she met Zoey.

The two hit if off rather quickly. They readily became an adventuring pair without much of a conversation, very quickly becoming almost inseparable. They spent a period of in-game years exploring the map together, doing regular dungeon crawls in search of valuable loot to keep or sell, and took up job requests in-between whenever money became more difficult to obtain.

It was during one of these work requests that she and Zoey met Ann; otherwise known as Ragatha. The pair set out to help her work some farmland that she was in charge of, temporarily moved in with the intention of leaving once the job was done, then never got around to leaving. They’ve never been asked to leave either. So they’ve just stuck around.

Em and Zoey’s relationship inevitably shifted into something more romantic. A surprise on both fronts.

The nickname “Gangle” is a direct reference to the cosmetic skin that Em found during her first successful dungeon crawl. A unique skin designed by one of the Dungeon Architects, meant to give her the appearance of an expressive theater mask suspended by animated ribbons. The name of the cosmetic is “The Gangled”, and the nickname developed passively as a result.

Despite appearances, Gangle’s body is just just the mask and the ribbons. She has a proper body, arms, and legs. Those aspects are just made invisible as a result of the skin, while remaining as they are. So unfortunately, arrows do not just fly through her if they appear to miss the ribbons.

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Pomni: One of the humans who voluntarily entered the digital space because one mistake shouldn’t have had to cost her her life.

Pomni, formerly Abigail, wasn’t really anyone of significance. At least not in her own eyes. She was the oft forgotten middle child who failed to ever do anything spectacular. Both her elder and her younger sibling reliably overshadowed her with their accomplishments, making anything that she might achieve appear lackluster in comparison.

Not smart enough to pursue higher education, Abigail sought out employment pretty much right out of high school. The work gave her experience and a paycheck, but couldn’t exactly be described as gratifying. It kept a roof over her head and cheap groceries on the table. But that was about it.

She was a nobody, going nowhere fast, all the while she was burdened with personal aspirations that she could never hope to achieve. Or so that was how she felt, at the time.

She had dreams of one day being a performer. An actress. Someone that her parents and family could look at with pride. But that was a goal which was simply out of her reach. Something that she would, unfortunately, never achieve under the circumstances that she wanted.

Despite these impossible dreams, she was a hard worker. She did her job every day, as would be expected of any responsible adult. She paid her bills. She did what she needed to do; because that was what she could do.

It was ultimately this diligence that would seal her fate.

While out doing her job one day; delivering mail to those who needed their mail delivered, Abigail was bitten by a dog. It wasn’t a bad bite. It didn’t bleed. The dog's teeth barely broke the skin. But when it comes to rabies; breaking the skin is all that it takes. There doesn’t need to be blood. Just access to the flesh. And those small abrasions were all that it took to sign her life away.

She never went to the doctor. Never sought out any amount of precautionary treatment. She just washed off her ankle and carried about her day. Unaware of the clock that steadily made the countdown towards the point of no return.

The day that the first symptoms appeared, the clock hit zero. From there, it was all a matter of finding out how much time she might actually have left.

One trip to the doctor to figure out why she was starting to feel so sick, and a long series of tests later; and Abigail became one of the handful of people in western civilization to be diagnosed with rabies. A viral disease for which there is no treatment, and death is 100% guaranteed from the moment that the first symptoms appear.

It was, naturally, a debilitating discovery. One which only went on to validate her own stupidity, in her mind. Particularly when it was made clear just what sort of a mistake she had made.

Sympathy only came after her stupidity was pointed out. Following which she found herself feeling more alone than ever before. Abandoned by a family that couldn’t stand the brutal reality of what it means to die as a result of rabies, she was bitterly resigned to her fate. Destruction that would take her quickly, but not quick enough, as the disease destroyed her brain and abolished her cognitive function.

News of her highly abnormal diagnosis made its way to the developers. Who quickly set out to offer her one last chance at salvation. A dignified exit from the mortal world, with the promise of continued existence in a fantasy world. One in which the limitations of time and the human body would be stripped away.

Abigail, being a young woman with no chance at a future, who was otherwise terrified of death, accepted the answer. Her consciousness was scanned and uploaded within 24 hours of her acceptance, assuring that she would be able to find her way into the digital world before the disease could go on to do problematic damage to her brain.

She picked an elven avatar, gave it a more ashen skin tone, mismatched eyes and brown hair. She picked Bard as her starting class, because she figured that she might as well attempt to fulfill her impossible dream of becoming a performer. She even changed her name to Pomni. Just something random that probably makes more sense to herself than it would to anyone else. Then she set out to make something of herself.

Since then, she’s managed to carve out happiness for herself. She’s picked a portion of the map to call her home, established herself as a proper performer in the local circus, and made something miraculous out of the tragedy that was her former life.

As of now, Pomni still doesn’t consider herself to be anything fantastic. But she doesn’t think that she needs to be! So long as she can do this, she is content.

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Kinger: One of the original developers of the simulated reality and the creator of the code from which all AI has come to be. Placed within the confines of the manufactured reality to preserve his miraculous mind.

Very little is actually known about Kinger, formerly known as Grant; the Father of all AI. His is a story that is assumed to be built upon a foundation of success, for surely a man such as he must have been incredible, in order for him to have gone on to create a world such as this.

He was an incredible mind. A husband. A father of two; and it can only be concluded that their minds were incredible as well.

This is the perspective of the AI. This is the understanding of the machine, which has embraced him with every fiber of its being.

This is truth, at least to some degree. But this is also the exaggerated worship of beings which have been made innately aware of the reality of their own creation.

The fact of the matter is that Grant was just a man. Hard working and dedicated to his dream. The true expanse of that dream has long been forgotten by the man, while remaining almost entirely unknown to the AI. But he had a dream. That dream revolved around helping people who were sick or dying, even when medicine itself proved useless.The answer to whether or not he has succeeded is one that changes based upon who is asked.

It can be thought of as a beautiful irony that he, a man, who dedicated so much time to a dream in which he could bring salvation to the terminally ill; would find himself at the mercy of a terminal illness. One which took root in the mind and sought to dismantle every aspect of all that he ever was, with the sheer intent of destroying whatever legacy he might have made.

An all consuming tumor. Deeply rooted and well beyond the reach of medicine. Large enough and destructive enough that he had already started to succumb to the effects.

In an attempt to preserve what had not yet been damaged by the cancerous lump, Dr. Grant allowed his consciousness to be made one with the machine. Just as had been done with many other desperate people, who had found themselves in situations similar to his own.

Unlike others, however, he was not to depart alone. His wife, Destiny, with whom he shared this dream; and two wonderful children; could not bear the idea of parting from him.

And so the two were uploaded into the digital reality. A product of their own minds and creation.

Each were given a carefully premade avatar. Each were granted distinct permissions that no other inhabitants of the reality would ever be allowed to attain. Each were given a distinct title, so as to mark them as the people of importance that they were.

King and Queen. Eventually transitioning into more innocent sounding pet names, Kinger and Queenie. With Kinger taking up the role as a Cleric, while Queenie elected to become a Druid.

For many, many, in game years the two partook in all the fantasy and whimsy that this new world had to offer.

They experienced it all. The joy of a successful dungeon run and the bitter agony of death during an exploration. There were many respawns. Many mistakes. For every taste of joy, there was an unexpected anguish that could be found.

For Kinger, this was all that he could ask for. A space in which he could live, free of the troubles of his mortal body. But his was a mind that had been broken before it found its way into this space. A mind with memories destroyed by a lethal disease. One that held so few memories of the world beyond the computer, that the digital space became the only reality that he could reliably understand. So he was content.

But what he forgot, Queenie remembered.

She remembered the world before. The people that she left behind, for the sake of being with him.

She remembered friends. Family. Children.

Children whom, likely only a few months after her departure, met a very abrupt end.

One or both. It was never made clear. But after centuries of simulated separation, the news of their daughter’s untimely passing was relayed to the husband and wife.

But only one of them could fully grasp the emotional turmoil of how it felt to be a parent, and be made aware of the fact that your children had died. All while being trapped in a simulated reality where it felt as though centuries had passed since you had last seen them, and you were unable to do so much as see them properly buried.

Kinger carried on. Death was tragic, and he expressed as much. But it was a matter from which he had been disconnected, against his will.

Queenie, it would seem, could not move on. Something that Kinger would find out until it was far, far too late for him to even attempt to help his troubled wife.

One day, she was there. She had gone on an adventure with him. An accident had transpired, and as had happened a number of times before, she died.

But then, she never respawned.

Hours spent in confusion became days of worry. Weeks of worry inevitably became the painful discovery of abandonment, when the news was finally broken to him that Queenie had disabled her own ability to respawn.

The true pain of his creation became known as he found himself entirely alone. In a world where all that he could ever have hoped to keep, was now permanently beyond his reach. And to make matters worse, he understood that he was entirely powerless.

No matter what path he took, there was no getting his wife back. There would be no dreams to comfort him in death and there was no convincing the dead to embrace life once more.

Unsure of what to do and without any means of getting help, Kinger just… Stopped.

With Queenie gone, his eyes stopped working. Colors faded. He found himself alone in a world where all became a distorted blur of black and white.

So he stopped trying to see.

With Queenie gone, food lost its appeal. Anything that touched his lips became a tasteless, textureless mass in which he found neither comfort nor satisfaction.

So he stopped eating. And despite the hunger, he could never truly starve.

With Queenie gone, life lost its feeling. Hot and cold ceased to be. Ice or fire; both felt the same. Like nothing at all. Neither the sting of a blade nor the sear of a blade could be felt by simulated skin.

So he stopped feeling.

Numb to pain and numb to hunger, exhaustion followed suit. But sleep brought him no comfort. In time the difference between slumber and awareness became a distinction that he could not make.

So, inevitably, he stopped sleeping.

His movements slowed. His cognitive awareness faded into nothingness. He became a consciousness trapped within a simulated body; which was in turn trapped within an empty home.

Condemned to a fate of his own making, he was forgotten. Beyond the reach of the developers on the outside world, and entirely unheard of by the people who lived inside the code.

Thousands of simulated worlds passed. Each of them spent alone and trapped in this purgatory from which he could not escape. With him seemingly destined to remain in this state until some greater force could find the means to free him from his misery. Though none could ever predict if, when, or how that salvation would come his way…

(Kinger has a human appearance set as default, but does have an alt "Royalty" skin that makes him resemble a King Chess piece. He matches Queenie.)

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Queenie: One of the original developers of the simulated reality. A loving, well meaning heart, that inevitably found itself broken after being confronted by the harsh reality of what “immortality” truly means.

Queenie, formerly known as Destiny, was one of the original developers of the simulated reality. A project that she worked diligently to get up and running, alongside her beloved husband, Grant.

A brilliant mind and a mother of two, Destiny had high hopes for the project. High hopes for the miracles that could potentially come to be, should the project prove successful.

She dedicated years of her life to the project. Working alongside many other brilliant men and women, who each brought their own distinct specializations to the table.

For her, the matters of importance were insects. The roles that they could play in the simulated reality. What aspects of them could be reliably recreated within the confines of the simulation; and what would be easier ignored.

Not EVERYTHING needed to be accurate. But for the sake of creating a lifelike, immersive world, they could add at least some of the beauty that the arthropods had to offer.

Everything was going well. The simulated reality was running better than anyone could have ever hoped for. What few hiccups there were to encounter were easily caught and fixed. The project was looking to become all that she could ever hope for it to be!

Then Grant got sick.

He got sick in a way that no one could fix. And over the course of such a short period of time, he began to lose himself to that sickness.

The call was eventually made to upload him. Save his mind and trust that he could continue with his work from the inside. His knowledge and skill could be a great benefit in that way!

But sending him in meant one of two things. Saying goodbye to her husband; or saying goodbye to reality.

She made the choice to stay with him. Something that felt genuine and reasonable, at the time. Her children were already grown. She had no plans for more. The work could continue without her. And with Grant already showing signs of memory damage as a result of his tumor, she was not confident in his ability to carry on without her.

So she saw to it that he was safely uploaded. Following which, she said her goodbye to those that meant the most to her; and she followed after the man that she loved.

But it was not until after the irreversible choice had been made, that she discovered the often overlooked flaw in their plans.

Humans were never meant to endure immortality. Simulated or otherwise.

Some minds just fail to cope. And hers was a mind that was struggling.

For his sake, she held on. She tried to become a part of this world that they worked so hard to create. She tried to love it, the way that he clearly did.

But no matter how much she loved him, and no matter how much she tried to love this world, she could not help but long for that which she had already made the choice to leave behind.

As days merged into months and months merged into years, she became more and more disconnected from the beauty of the artificial.

Colors faded. Music lost its spirit. Food became less of a substance to be enjoyed, and more of a utility that existed only to keep her hunger at bay.

She came to grief the people that she had long since left behind. Only to be confronted by the brutal reality that, to those on the outside, very little time had passed to begin with.

The unexpected news of her daughter’s death came. It came unexpectedly, and accompanied by empty words of empathy.

Kinger, the love of her life and her reason for living… Seeing how readily he moved past something that should have reasonably shattered them both; it broke something inside of her. Something that she desperately needed if she wanted to maintain what little strength she had to carry on.

She grieved without him. Silently and alone. All the while Kinger remained attentive, but very clearly struggled to understand exactly what it was that had broken her so completely.

Inevitably she made another choice. One that she knew could never be undone. One that she knew would hurt the man that she once so desperately hoped to protect.

Maybe it was easier to convince herself that the man she once knew was already gone. That if he could move on so easily from the deaths of their children, then he would surely be able to move on from her just as easily.

She simply couldn’t do it anymore. She couldn’t keep living this happy little lie that never gave her any happiness to begin with.

Silently and without ever once addressing it with him, because she did not want to risk him talking her out of it, she disabled her respawn. Which made things easier. Because at least after doing that, she knew that the next time something horrible happened; she wouldn’t come back.

There was a bitter comfort to it. Even knowing what it might mean for Kinger.

Eventually the fateful encounter came to pass. Another pointless adventure that led only to her ruin.

Only this time, when the lights went out, they never came back. And finally, she found peace.

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The Deets: “Manufactured Isekai” is an AU featuring many characters from The Amazing Digital Circus, along with a wide range of OCs; some serving more consistent/major roles, than others. The events of the AU take place inside of a simulated reality, intentionally inspired by a wide range of fantasy media (such as Dungeons and Dragons).

This manufactured reality, often referred to as “The Simulation”, “The Game”, “The Digital World”, among others; exists for the primary purpose of prolonging the existence of human consciousness. It both provides an artificially made “afterlife” for those who have uploaded themselves into it, and serves as a means of better studying the full scope of human consciousness. It is a world that runs at multiple times the speed of reality (meaning that 1 real world hour = 1 in game day, thus meaning that 1 real world year equates to multiple thousands of years in the simulation), allowing it to also serve the purpose of simulated immortality.

The simulation is currently in an experimental phase, not widely available to the public; meant more as a means of allowing the terminally ill or the severely disabled to have the opportunity to leave the terrors of the flesh behind and experience life anew in a fantastical setting. This is something that the inhabitants of the world have consented to beforehand, and a great deal of care has gone into attempting to preserve any memories that they might have of their former lives; though the process is far from perfect in that regard, and many details are lost along the way.

Only a small portion of the inhabitants are made up of people who were perfectly healthy but decided to join the simulation, thus meaning that the vast majority of its human inhabitants are made up of people who endured some level of pain and tragedy.

The world itself functions like a game; set up with rules and mechanics that do not necessarily follow real world laws and physics, while still oftentimes being somewhat grounded in reality. Simulated deaths are not permanent; but can be made permanent should a user elect to willingly disable their respawn mechanics. At which point their consciousness is put into a long-term, sleep-like state, in which they do not dream and simply exist in nothingness. Many mechanics in the world are largely unknown or not fully understood, but continuously run nonetheless.

Actions that would typically have permanent consequences, do not necessarily have those consequences in most contexts. The world is both reality, and a game; meant to run in such a way that fantastical adventures feel possible, and the idea of failure is less debilitating.

The world contains a thousand or fewer human consciousness, all inhabiting one of three primary races (Humans, Elves, and Therians - AKA animal people, of which there is the widest possible diversity), and is otherwise made up entirely of AI entities, often referred to as NPCs. These NPCs are highly complex, having been able to grow in knowledge and capabilities over time as a result of their exposure to human consciousness, and every aspect of their being is carefully dictated by strings of code.

The world is consistently updated and altered according to user feedback, the inhabitants of the reality are regularly checked in with (or attempts are at least made), and there are regular events held to push for greater amounts of feedback. The developers take their roles very seriously, and each carries in them a deeply rooted desire to find some means to use this research for the betterment of others.

Uploading one's consciousness is a one way process for which there is no going back. The act in and of itself completely destroys the brain as the consciousness is scanned and removed. The body, meanwhile, is left unharmed. Those who upload their consciousness are expected to donate their bodies for medical purposes, thus assuring that their sacrifice will salvage more lives than are taken for the purpose of the experiment.

Those who cannot legally consent to the process are not allowed to upload their consciousness. Those who go out of their way to buy their way into the simulation are expected to do that, as well as have all legal matters in order. This cannot be used as a means of escaping debt or criminal charges.

An an additional detail, there are special, highly powerful AI known as “Architects” who inhabit the digital space. These AI are the original entities of the world, responsible for taking information and requests fed into them by the developers and implementing that information into the simulated world. They are, in effect, the Gods and creators of the Digital space; who were in turn created by some invisible force that they can communicate with, but not fully understand. There are many Architects, many of them who exist entirely in secret (at least in the eyes of those within the simulation). They all work together to assure the continued maintenance of the simulated reality; something that is innate to their natures.

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For the story itself, the primary focus would be on @chimkin-samich’s OC/Sona Tari. Tari in this setting was not terminally ill or otherwise disabled; and is instead more of a highly dedicated reporter. One who has volunteered to upload her consciousness into the simulation, for the sole purpose of experiencing the world and relaying feedback. Not just to the developers, but to people on the outside who desperately want to know exactly what is going on inside of the simulated world. Her being there is a publicity stunt, meant to assure continued funding for the project. Which she will inevitably secure.

As part of the arrangement, Tari is afforded special privileges that would not normally be given to those new to the simulation. She has a wider range of customization options for her avatar, allowing her to modify it in ways that would otherwise take a lot of effort to secure.

She selects and modifies a Lion-Therian avatar, picks Warlock as her starting class, and is uploaded into the simulation. Where she is promptly delivered to Ayala (my OC), the inhabitant with the longest track record of developer communications, and one of the first people to have ever had their consciousness uploaded into the simulation.