#arcadion

🌟 Still Ticket Prints & Pin Badges in the sh0p! 🌟

Proceeds go to Cat Food, been lacking since yesterday & shops couldn't lend us in this timing. It will also helpright now since I'm going back and forth to visit Ponkat at the clinic

Tyrant Doll Pre-orders are still open, will only be accepting max 30 for now!

✈️ INTL Pre-Order || 🇵🇭 PH Pre-Order

• Price: $55 + tracked shipping fee

• Production period: 2-3 months, starts August 2026

• Comes as is, but fits in 20cm doll clothes found online!

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Sample of the free Arcady Tote Bag for those who pre-ordered for #CoMetMNL2026 !

Just gotta adjust Deep Periwinkle and some colors 😅

The A4 Prints fit just right so I'm glad! 🥳

⚡️ Flash Availability ⚡️

‼️ Non-United States Only ‼️

B Grade Sugar Riot Standees avail in the sh0p! 1-2pcs Extra few charms, tickets, and pins are avail too

Grabby here! https://whymaige.bigcartel.com

Only 2 more days until Donation Drive for Fight Club ends!

Thank you so much for all the donations so far! there's still plenty of time to get your digital copy of the zine! There's two ways to give:

1. If you are a U.S. resident, you can donate directly to Amica and submit your reciept to the form here!

2. If you are non-U.S. supporter, you can "buy" your copy through our storefront and we will donate on your behalf on August 1st!

Please note that we will send the download links to the emails inputted on the form and the bigcartel transaction. Thank you so much for the shares and enthusiasm 💗

Only 3 more days until Donation Drive for Fight Club ends!

Happy EU Fanfest! Thank you so much for all the donations so far! there's still plenty of time to get your digital copy of the zine! There's two ways to give:

1. If you are a U.S. resident, you can donate directly to Amica and submit your reciept to the form here!

2. If you are non-U.S. supporter, you can "buy" your copy through our storefront and we will donate on your behalf on August 1st!

Please note that we will send the download links to the emails inputted on the form and the bigcartel transaction. Thank you so much for the shares and enthusiasm 💗

⭐️🥊 AAC Heavyweight Standees 🥊⭐️

Got the samples, and here's a preview of everyone!

⬞ Vamp Fatale

⬞ The Xtremes

⬞ The Tyrant

⬞ The Lindwurm

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vamp fatale does not answer her slab when tyrant calls it. this isn't unusual. she parts with her personal contact information most sparringly, but she still receives dozens of superfluous calls per day. she is the heir to a dynasty, and is leadership still to sizable portions of those titanic industries. he understands well the demands upon her time, and likewise the impossible desire to dispense with the noise and dwell for a moment in silence, instead.

no one is like to perish should vamp fatale, however, set aside those noisesome obligations for the moment. and so, do we arrive at her tendancy to ignore her slab from time to time.

vamp fatale, however, does not miss practice.

vamp fatale did not even willingly miss practice during her growth period. the nurse technicians had to declare a medical intervention.

tyrant doesn't experience 'worry' or 'fear', but he finds himself running anyway. he should mind that people capture video of him when he shifts into a cauahepya, but the thought does not cross his mind. there is only a rising sense of pressure in his center, and the need to run faster and then faster, and the feeling he gets in a match sometimes, when his body is screaming 'end it!'.

he slams his hand into the flatpad outside vamp fatale's room. the door slides open to reveal darkness. he shifts without thinking, his vision sharpening, the darks becoming lighter and the sharp outlines of the room audibly coming into focus. the sofa is empty. the cafe stools by the bar are empty. he waves the door to the bedroom open, and recoils from the sudden burst of pain. her slab, he sees, in blinked blue afterimages. the screen is bright like a flash bang, lighting up again and again with calls. the bed is empty, but the sheets are rumpled, used, hanging off the side of the bed as if someone had risen quickly. he stumbles around double-checking the apartment, but the act is to no avail. the apartment is empty.

his chest contracts. his breathing picks up. he's not afraid.

his own slab is alerting, he realizes. the vibration pattern indicates that the caller is metem. he puts the call through to his earpiece.

"tyrant!" metem exclaims. "where are you? i'm getting Sock alerts that-"

metem. metem, he realizes. metem has trackers on all of them, linked to their regulators. you're a fool, and a joke.

"metem," he says, urgently. "vamp fatale isn't in her apartment."

metem stops. "um... okay? is she supposed to be?"

try again. "check your FUCKING calendar," he hisses, feeling feral all of a sudden. is he still shifted?

metem falls quiet for a moment, a little hum here and there while he sorts data.

"ah ha!" he says. then: "oh, no."

metem knows her as well as tyrant does. it's his job.

another moment, then: "her regulator is about thirty khaas from your position. but..."

the silence hangs. he wants to start running, but 'pon what heading? he could be getting further away from her.

the energy strains under his skin, which feels painfully tight. if he had a dagger-

"im sending a medical team," metem says, decisively. "sending you her position."

there is a crowd of people pointing their cameras at her building when you burst out of it. you jump them, and pivot. it's a run that lasts seconds for you, the world blurring by. the street is bright with hard pink neons. her body is in a chair, slumped over an outdoor table as if she was just taking a nap. her standard regulator is on. it is shining bright red. not a show red. a warning red.

"metem," he says. his voice sounds strange. her pulse is slow. she's wearing sweatpants.

she stirs. she blinks.

"who...?" she slurs.

his blood freezes.

metem's shouted instructions about nasal spray locations fade out. tyrant reaches one trembling hand up to his own regulator. his, not an aac regulator, not a regular one, not even the heavy duty model he wore back when all he was was a hunter.

his was a gift from the president. the design is custom, fabricated for the champion of the arcadion and the champion of the arcadion alone.

he watches vamp fatale's still form as he presses the small mechanical button on the rim of his regulator. the world shivers, then blooms into soul sight mode. for a moment, the colors are magical. for a moment he is young again, marvelling at the pinks and purples and golds, the soft kaleidoscoping rainbows of shimmering light. for a moment, he allows himself to breathe it in.

the alternative is facing the reality. the reality is that he is scared. he is scared because when he looks at vamp fatale, all he can see are gummy, slimy patches of blackened rot.

psychonekrosis.

advanced.