Using my Tomodachi Life Miis as references, I drew the Harbingers who haven't officially appeared in the game (@oneknightstand-if).

Here's also a group photo of the Lesser Circle…

New Mini-update: All versions of the game hosted on my site (so, not the Itch.io version) have been updated to include a modded version of the previous save system smPlugin that now allows exporting & importing of the save slots (including in bulk) as .json files.

I decided to go ahead and push this through ahead of the big upcoming Chapter2-6 update (right now on line 18504 out of 24215 in the revision process) for all those whose browsers have been going “That’s a nice save file you have there… it’d be a shame if something happened to it *purges all data*.”

If you don’t see the new save system at the top of the game, you’ll need to clear the cache for the OKS website. If you’re on desktop, you can also try a hard refresh (CTRL + F5 on Windows, CMD + SHIFT + R on Mac) first and see if that works.

Note: This won’t do anything about Choicescript saves corrupting after a big update, but at least it’s a nice backup for those whose saves kept mysteriously going missing.

It’s a bit tetchy. Sometimes you’ll need to reload the page to get the save slots to properly populate (particularly if you’re doing a large bulk import of saves). Sometimes the browser will hang a bit the first time you try to load a newly imported save (it seems to be as fast as ever after the first time though).

And then when I tried filling out all 100 slots to test the bulk storage, I ran face-first into the QuotaExceededError at slot 88, as it seems Supermium has the OKS localStorage capped at 5.7MB (gee, thanks, Supermium!)

As suggested by the Greater Circle and voted on by the Greater/Lesser Circle tiers, it's the June Question & Answer session, coming in at 3927 words. And today's guest star of the session is... not the Magic 8-Ball this time (even though it's once more here), but Sir Not Appearing in This Q&A himself, Adrian!

Magic 8-Ball:

Merlin once more sits at center stage, clutching the aforementioned Magic 8-Ball in hand with a dolorously sighing Adrian to their right and a scribbling Cassandra to their left. Percy has reclaimed his rocking horse to the further right, the rider bedecked in a full diving suit, while the horse is wearing a floatie ring. A raccoon industrially chewing on a corncob is seated behind him.

Adrian takes one look at the rocking pair and sighs even harder.

Adrian: I don't even wanna know what's going on in that branch of the story.

Random Audience Member: Yeah, about that... how good are you at jumping between glass display cases?

Percy: Always knew we should’ve taken that left turn at Albuquerque.

Adrian: *sighs even harder*

Merlin: I see that someone's bender around the world has finally come to its inevitable end, as all good things must eventually.

Adrian: I'm just surprised it took this long before I got recalled back.

Cassandra: *squinting over at Percy and taking even more notes* Unfortunately, before my turn as babysitter.

Merlin: And I also see that we are a rather small contingent on stage this time.

Cassandra: That's right. Unlike you—

Merlin: ଘ(੭ˊ꒳​ˋ)੭✧

Cassandra: —everyone else left backstage doesn't want to be here either, or has already been on-stage quite a bit lately.

Gwen: *off-stage* Tee hee.

The ground quaked beneath them, sending the rest of the group reeling, scattered to the four corners of an abandoned street whose asphalt split and ruptured as if the very earth sought to swallow them up. Dangerous footing for the others, where a wrong step could plunge them to their doom.

A mere annoyance to Merlin, who was not bound by such frivolities as gravity. Even as MC stayed warily by their side, crouched down to retain her precarious balance upon the bucking pavement.

Something was cresting. Something that ought never to exist in this world. Still, the seals held, what little of them remained, fraying away into nothing for these past thirty years. The Otherworld should arise, its Veil tumbling down, before Hell would be allowed to sink its putrid fangs into the Earth.

Until the other side bared its own maw from the Heavens.

A rusted vehicle — classic Fiat 500 from the 1970s, someone else's memory informed them  — hovered slightly in the air, faintly surrounded by a nimbus of green, until ▇▇▇▇▇ strode up and cleaved it in half with a fiery gold-hilted sword, stooping to offer a hand up to the cowering Gwen.

"This city is lost. We should retreat to the banks of the lungotevere and regroup with—  oh, for the balmy love of the forsaken gods!" Merlin exclaimed as Percy and ▇▇▇ ▇▇ ▇▇ raced past them, back into the shadows of a tumbling basilica, while stone crumbled to ash all around.

"Still ngam... there's still a chance if we can kill the original spellcaster, is it?" ▇▇▇ said, a flash of iridescence and white bone in her hands taking the form of a sword that belonged to someone else, even as ▇▇▇▇ tossed a silent thumbs-up behind him.

This is what came from consorting with 'heroes', as Merlin should well know by now. Although they distinctly remembered that she was supposed to have more sense than him back then.

Merlin turned, a pivot that had nothing to do with physical form nor the corroded laws of the mortal realm. It shook through the fabric of reality itself.

Something was coming. Not the Princeps Inferorum who slavered to take the Earth for themself, but something dangerous enough. After all... only two Riders of the Apocalypse yet walked the world.

For a nonexistent heartbeat, exhaustion pressed its heavy hand upon them, as ever-present as the eternal watchful eye of the negligent Almighty. They had cast off so much already. A feeling that manifested not one whit in their pristine form mirrored in the gazes of their companions.

They reached, nothing but intention manifest, and lifted. Gwen yelped in dismay, perhaps seeing more here than their other companions, as  ▇▇▇▇▇ merely squinted over at them — or where they would appear to be — in appraising calculation, while the two ▇▇▇ were forcefully reeled back from the jaws that erupted like an unending tunnel at the edge of the boulevard.

And at their side, MC merely smiled, hair whipping within the storm of their passing. Simply smiled, while the sight of a pale woman with wild silvery hair flaring around a perfect visage only touched by the faintest shadows of tiredness reflected in her eyes, as she shoved, her own will made manifest.

"Get to safety," MC's silent lips mouthed the words.

Shoved Merlin, and thus everyone else, a few stuttering steps away, as the walls of the time bubble rose to the uncaring heavens.

And the second-place winner for June is "Romanced!Merlin's POV as Serious/Sweet u_hero High Magic MC traps themself and a powerful enemy in a time bubble in order to buy the others time to escape. (Merlin is exhausted and unable to intervene) " at 1905 words.

AU not only because of taking place so far forward in time, but also because Merlin would probably be dead before they couldn't pop a time bubble in this sort of situation.

Merlin: You underestimate my power! (✿｀д´)9

@oneknightstand-if the code is held together with plaintext, javascript, and html—which is to say it is very inefficient for long-term use.

for my silly little projects, the code is sufficient.

i, however, am craving more arthurian ifs but am coming to realization that, if i want to play more arthurian ifs, i must make them.

They met on the piste that day, both clad in their fencing whites, Adrian in a common silvery-gray lamé, while MC faced him down in a custom golden vest, much to the approval of Zain and Gil, with their own nonstandard colored equipment.

Salute and bow to each other. Bow to the waiting Hjördis as referee. Bow to the scattering of their fellow fencing mates, most who've stopped their own training to gather round and watch.

Gil was even giving a thumbs-up right now as he leaned against the nearby vending machine, a suspiciously bright blue neon drink in hand. Adrian swore that some of those so-called energy drinks weren't actually potable.

Behind his own well-fitted fencing mask, the world was quieter. Darker. More focused. For a brief moment, he was safe within the eye of a storm.

Despite them both being guys, he and MC hadn't shared the men's locker room. Not with the other man rushing in late from his job as a security guard once again. Not with Adrian having no reason to wait, today's planned bout partner or not.

Too strange that. It's not as if they were actually friends.

One'd think that pulling the night shift would leave them free for club activities well enough in the late afternoon, but everyone was pulling overtime, double duty, triple duty nowadays. Everyone else except him... being an independent contractor certainly had its benefits, even if taxes weren't one of them.

At least neither of them was in health care. That'd truly be a horror show.

Adrian lightly stretched, nimbly rising on his toes as MC continued to fumble with buckling his fencing mask around the low, twisted bun of his hair. He stomped down the urge to help even as Aegon catcalled, "Aaany day now!" from across the room, standing stolidly within the taped practice lines on the floor as Brenda flailed wildly at his side with her own foil.

Being beginners, MC and Brenda normally faced each other during these matches, but sometimes they seemed to mirror each other's mistakes as well. And so Hjördisoften liked to set them up against a more veteran opponent. Hence, here was Adrian once again.

Yes, he was well used to facing down MC and Brenda both. He always won, of course he did, but he could drag out the matches long enough. Lightly enough. Allow them their fair share of touches and points for practice. Dodging lightly in quartata whenever Brenda attempted a nut shot.

Again.

Even though that area was off-target in foil!

Because the only other choice there, if Hjördis was to remain acting as referee, was to let Aegon smash and barrel his way over the poor newbies, beating them mercilessly without a single iota of a thought in his head about holding back.

That reminded him too much of someone else.

And so here he was again, waiting patiently as Hjördis reached up to help fasten the velcro buckles around the far taller man. Taller than Adrian and far broader too. MC certainly looked the part of a proper guard.

"Finally!" Aegon snorted, as if he'd been the one waiting this entire time, as they took their respective spots upon the metal piste, electrical lines trailing behind them to the glowing scoreboard.

"En garde!" Hjördis once more stoutly called out. "Prêts? Allez!"

And the winning drabble for June is "The first time Adrian lost to MC in fencing (Bold/Acquaintances MC preferred, but really it’s whatever. Masochistic awakening optional.)" at 2321 words.

So... not exactly a normal fencing match here, but I'm not sure you'd get the requisite "masochistic awakening" if MC was fencing properly. You're not exactly wrestling or whacking your opponent with normal fencing!

MC going all HEMA here for... reasons.

Having a Perfectly Normal Time at the Museum Heist

The Alpha Build on Patreon recently updated with the rough version of the final branch of Chapter2-6-2 (with four branches in total, around 50k each).

That means next comes the polished Beta Update for the entire Chapter 2-6 combo (both MC’s Mini-adventure + the main Museum Heist, around 190k - 200k in total). Starting first with the various Closed Betas on Patreon and then the Public Beta update on my site.

As suggested by the Greater Circle and voted on by the Greater/Lesser Circle tiers, it's the May Question & Answer session, coming in at 3777 words. And today's guest star of the session is once more... the Magic 8-Ball!

Magic 8-Ball:

Merlin once more sits at center stage, the Magic 8-Ball rattling around in their hand, with Arthur and Gwen seated to their immediate right and a scribbling Cassandra seated to their left. Percy's empty rocking horse is currently wearing a 'Spicy Sexy Mama' shirt.

Merlin: *shaking the grand, glorious Magic 8-Ball* Ha! Failed to beat me to the seat of honor this time, did you?

Arthur: That contraption certainly appears to hold the current favor of the audience. Dare I ask precisely how long you have been camping here to attain that seat, Merlin?

Merlin: Pish posh, tis a current fad... leastwise before Pestilence sent all scuttling away into their isolation. Modern mortal society lines up for days in advance to secure the best seats! The best tickets! The primest of random mechanical doodads, each exactly the same as the next!

Arthur: While I was always a proponent for equality amongst the Round Table, this speaks well for the existence of assigned seats.

Gwen: *sitting to Arthur's right* Heh heh... Meanwhile, Adrian's still on his bender around the world, leaving his seat open for the taking!

( •̀ ᴗ •́ )و ̑̑

Broderick: *off-stage* That fuckass took Lorelei this time!

Cassandra: *looking up from her notes It was supposed to be me this time, but I was called back by a certain question. flips through her notepad's pages* At least it wasn't about my socks.

Broderick: *off-stage, muttering imprecations*

Percy: *off-stage* Sus.

And it's time for the first question of this session... which is about Cassandra's socks!

Arthur: Modern man seems to have a strange fixation on hosen and stockings.

Magic 8-Ball:

Gwen: No feet fetish back then, huh?

Merlin: Oh no, quite the opposite. Without all the conveniences and distractions so prevalent in current times, people had naught to consume their attention but—

Cassandra: *smiles, puts down her notebook, and begins reaching for her gun*