Challenge: Post Vanquera character art every day for a year.

...hates you, has been shifting your 'mech between maintenance niches while you're not inside, ensuring that it is never left where you actually got out of it when you come back.

The hangar, which does not appreciate your presence, has started having its mechtechs (not the real ones; these all too clearly dance on puppet strings of wire and coolant hose connected to the greater being) bark complaints at you about leaning in the wrong place or tracking in dirt or having food on the work floor, even when you don't.

The hangar, which cannot stand you, has been gnawing off parts of your 'mech, tagging them with the orange nonfunc tabs for the mechtechs to inspect, shrug, get out the "Vulture Beak" power pry, peel the pieces off, and toss them into the scrap bins.

The hangar, which is begrudgingly beginning to tolerate you, is still scrawling embarrassingly distasteful pinups on your 'mech for the technicians to hoot and jeer about.

The hangar, which could perhaps get used to you, has begun picking the grime off your 'mech from time to time, scrubbing and hosing when nobody's around, as though to sneer about how you couldn't possibly keep this old wreck clean without some help.

The hangar, which would never stoop to saying it likes you, has its doors slide ajar when you are far from close enough to trigger the motion sensors, even if you were carrying a tech-grade ID.

The hangar, which feels better when you're around, has sprouted a spiderweb of gantries in the high shadows near the roof, ones nobody else seems to see are there, but are a perfect place- just close enough to the smell of warmetal and engine-heat, just far enough from the din of drills and hydraulics -to snatch your brief moments of rest.

The hangar, which would be lonely without you, may or may not have had something to do with the last technician who chewed you out (over your running ragged of some nebulous machinery subsystem) being horribly mangled in an accident with the equipment lift.

The hangar, which loves you, abruptly clamps its retaining arms around your 'mech as you go to clear the niche and head out for the mission, and too late you notice that the hangar no longer has either the 'mech exit door or any of the personnel ones, and the only mechtechs on the floor are the deadeyed ones dancing on their puppet wires.

Some stories involving time travel seem to work on this set of rules, but none seem to delve into the specifics.

It's similar to the typical multiverse time travel that is more explored, but to differentiate, I'll call that "multiverse creation time travel." That would be the system where traveling to the past creates a new timeline to resolve paradoxes; Changes made to the past go into a new timeline while the time traveller's home timeline and history remains the same.

Multiverse bump theory is a less common take on this setup, where instead of time travel creating branching timelines, time travel takes you into other already-existing timelines. When someone tries going to the past, the history of their own timeline rejects them for being paradoxical, bumping them over to the next closest timeline.

TMK a few works of fiction use this setup quietly, but none explain or highlight it AFAIK. When a character goes to the past over and over, and the world changes in ways that are more and more different from the original timeline with differences further into the past than anything the time traveller touched, this setup is in play.

I think one interesting mechanic a story could play with is one where any timeline you've been to becomes locked-in as part of your history, along with the history of anyone who touched your history.

So let's say Alvin from timeline A goes 100 years in the past to change it, but gets bumped to timeline B. Timeline B is similar enough to timeline A that they think they changed their past.

Alvin then either goes back home, or to the "present" in timeline B. One way or the other, Alvin starts to figure out that it didn't work as planned, either because nothing has changed, or because of how the new future doesn't have a place for them, because they don't exist, or because there's a new version of themselves.

Challenge: Post Vanquera character art every day for a year.

It's been over a year since Saturnine's release. Crazy, right? To celebrate this, I've posted an "anniversary special" of sorts, a game made in Twine where you play as a familiar character doing very unfamiliar things. It's short, sweet, and the closer thing to Saturn Ten I will ever make.