So I can have a link storage and a tag breakdown!
My AO3
Staring at the Sun - A multi chapter fic based around the misadventures of my friend Geo and I in Outer Wilds via the Quantum Space Buddies mod.
Slate's No Good, Very Bad Days - A multi chapter fic where Slate pairs with the museum statue instead of the hatchling and proceeds to not have a great time [NOTE: This is being rewritten! It will be finished before the rewrite is posted]
It's a Cooking Competition! - A multi chapter fic set in a new universe post game. The astronauts gather for a cooking competition and immediately get a little too competitive. This has main game spoilers from the start and DLC spoilers from chapter 2 onwards. [NOTE: this is the first work for Outer Wilds Campfire Fest 2025]
Outer Wilds Campfire Fest 2025 - the collection for works for the Outer Wilds Campfire Fest 2025! There are DLC spoilers.
TAG LIST
GDI Geo - Things Geo inspired me to create, whether intentionally or inadvertantly
At Geo's Behest - Things Geo has directly requested. Might be art, might be stories!
Hatchling is named Fossil - Involves my hatchling Fossil!
Hatchling is named Geo - Involves Geo's hatchling Geo!
Hatchling is named Dunite - Involves my hatchling Dunite!
Hatchling is named Kenyte - Involves my hatchling Kenyte!
Hey, you, go play Outer Wilds. If you haven't before then go in blind and dont look up hints, at all. Prepare to explore, be frustrated and have a hole created in your heart you will never be able to fill again.
rotating thoughts in my head about nomai and owlk bipedalism
because like, yeah, it's a style choice and i know that, and there's nothing wrong with it (this is literally a setting where planets are less than a kilometer across), but the more i think about it the more the specbio part of my brain keeps looking at the zigzag-bendy digitigrade (or, poor owlks, unguligrade??) legs and goes okay that can not be comfortable
and also i am an incorrigible overthinker apparently
hearthians have nice human-style plantigrade legs that can stand straight and let them rest their weight comfortably like we do, but that crouchy z-shaped stance on two legs (instead of four) is uh. not super practical, all things considered, at least for standing at rest.
this has lead to two fun trains of thought.
1) The Nomai actually have some interesting implications and/or excuses for their leg situation?
As far as balance goes, they've got these big splayed out toes, and a short but distinct tail. The concept art skeletons are kind of up on tiptoes, but looking at the in-game ones and their suits they're a bit more sturdy.
Their suits also give them these very solid, chunky boots that seem like they would add a fair bit of support and stability.
Canon also implies they prefer a lower gravity (~0.8 of Timber Hearth's, going by the gravity crystals), which would probably further reduce strain on their joints.
But also, their cultural default accessory to carry around is literally a staff! Which actually raises the very interesting implication (to me at least) that the average Nomai staff might double as a walking stick or otherwise some form of support to help them stand upright for extended periods? It probably doesn't hurt that their earliest concept art has a lot of 'ancient elder leaning on their staff' vibes to begin with.
IDK, I just think there's something kind of neat actually about the idea of a species that basically uses what we would regard as a disability aid as like, a normal default part of their day to day tool usage (maybe not entirely unlike how we adopted clothing instead of re-evolving fur for colder climates...?)
2) oh god the owlks are so fucked up. you cannot convince me this creature was meant to be a full-time biped.
look at this thing!
huge
super top heavy
horrible little hooves -- at least on the in-game model version they're more stout and sturdy, but they're still tiny proportionally
those antlers cannot be helping them in the balance department
1.3X GRAVITY????
At some point I also noticed that their scale patterns give them a lot of thick-looking scales on the backs of their hands and knuckles, specifically, which, combined with those absurdly long arms, has lead me to the cursed possible conclusion that these guys may be part-time quadrupeds/knuckle walkers who regard themselves as temporarily embarrassed bipeds. Maybe they consider it impolite? I could see that, I think. At the very least, the simulation probably abstracts away the whole issue, since -- going by the funky deloaded visuals when you ditch the lantern -- it doesn't seem to be even modeling anyone's legs anyway.
But also please consider the terrifying mental image of an Owlk on all fours chasing you at maximum speed through the woods at night. I think I would shit myself ngl
right under the wire as usual, here's my written entry for the @outerwilds-events collapsed stars reverse mini bang!! my partner for this event, the one and only @hellaciouscrustacean made a beautiful piece that this fic is based off of ::D
3,090 words, no content warnings i can think of!
In Esker's expert opinion, the Outer Wilds Ventures needed a breath of fresh air. Figuratively and literally. Since Feldspar returned from the Attlerock, the five of them had been buzzing with an energy that managed to be both restless and unproductive, simultaneously. They were thinking in circles, and as far as Esker knew, the best cure for that was to spend a day thinking as little as possible.
Esker's day of thinking as little as possible had begun auspiciously by rising shortly after the sun—late for them, but still early for most of the village—brewing a batch of their strongest spiced tea, finding Tektite, and talking about nothing and everything. After a few hours of comfortably drifting to and fro between gossip and philosophical discussion, they bade Tektite farewell and wandered back to the village to make something to eat. Then, they sat down with their carving knife and the block of wood they'd started shaping last week, and the rest of the day slipped by unnoticed.
That was perhaps the most tangible difference "growing up" had made to Esker; time flowed all too quickly between their fingers like a river thick with stormwater. It was afternoon now, and they had yet to see the rest of the Outer Wilds Ventures making any effort to think as little as possible.
They decided to take matters into their own hands.
They'd start with Feldspar. Despite, or perhaps because of, their thrill-seeking tendencies, they could trust Feldspar to appreciate the simple joy of fishing and chatting with friends; and their infectious enthusiasm and confidence would help sway the others.
Currently, the first Hearthian to be intentionally launched into space could be found doing odd jobs around the village whenever possible, grabbing at every task they could get their hands on with the same bright eagerness they chased adrenaline with. When pressed, they jokingly suggested they were just making up for all the chore-skipping and general mischief-making of their youth, but Esker quietly suspected they needed to keep themself busy or the temptation to take off in their ship and make a break for the stars, safety checklists be damned, would overwhelm them. Feldspar had always had their eyes on the skies, so to speak, but since their first spaceflight, Esker had picked up a sense of tangible longing radiating off certain mannerisms and the expression on their face when they looked at the stars.
At the moment, their distraction of choice seemed to be helping Porphy prepare a large table-full of jerky. Esker didn't even need to say a word to get their attention; they simply walked over and when Feldspar glanced at them and saw the two fishing rods propped on their shoulder, their face lit up.
"Hey, Esker!" they greeted cheerily. "Tell me if I'm wrong, but that looks like a fishing trip. You need a buddy?"
"I wouldn't have brought two rods if I didn't," Esker answered. "You comin'?"
"'Course I'm comin'! Porphy, you got this right?"
Porphy did their best to look stern and unamused, but they'd never had a good poker face with that sort of thing. "I'll be fine, Feldspar. Thank you for your help, even if it only lasted five minutes."
"You got a spot in mind?" Feldspar asked, falling in step beside them.
"I do. But we're gonna collect the others first."
One down. Next up: Hornfels. The pair marched decisively towards the makeshift shack currently serving as their ground control. Its silhouette was unmistakable, the multiple radar dishes and antennae bolted haphazardly to its roof cutting through the sky overhead at strange, jagged angles.
Feldspar rapped sharply on the door and then opened it immediately and held it for Esker as they entered. A wide strip of warm daylight appeared on the opposite wall in the dim room, then shrank just as fast as the door closed behind them.
"You knock like you're about to tell me the building is on fire," Hornfels said wryly, looking up from the papers covering every inch of the table they sat at. "What are you two up to?"
"I am?" Hornfels echoed, seeming genuinely surprised. Even after founding Outer Wilds Ventures with them, they seemed caught off-guard every time Feldspar's antics included them. "I'm doing star charts."
"You can do star charts while we fish! Come on."
Hornfels glanced between Feldspar's face and the papers on the table, clearly unsure about this whole idea, yet unable to come up with a suitable excuse to get out of it. "…I just don't see why—"
"It'll be fun! You're a Hearthian, not a silkworm. Even nerds like you need sunlight and fresh air," said Feldspar, flashing them a grin to take the sting out of their words.
Hornfels looked at Esker hopefully.
"Don't look at me," they said, amused. "This was my idea."
Hornfels knew, despite themself, that it would be fun, and that they did need the fresh air. They sighed and stood up. "Alright, let me grab my notes."
See? With Feldspar around, Esker hardly had to do any of the convincing. Two down. Next up: Gossan. Esker tentatively hoped that the persuasive force of all four of them would be enough to coax Slate out of their workshop too, but they weren't betting on it.
But as it turned out, after a brief wander of the village and asking around, Gossan was actually with Slate at their workshop. So, the trio made their way through the narrow passageway and the wooded valley until they reached Slate's workshop; strategically located far enough from the village that they could quite literally play with fire without endangering any more houses than the Outer Wilds Ventures already had. They could hear it long before they could see it—if they didn't know the way by heart, they could just follow the sound of loud, fast-paced music.
The workshop was essentially just a barn with desks in one corner and toolboxes in the other, and scrap metal skeletons stacked against the walls in an organizational system only Slate could parse. The towering barn doors were left open all day, excluding extreme weather events, so the approaching trio could see the two Hearthians within.
They were each hunched over one of the desks in the corner, scribbling rapidly on their respective sheaves of paper without exchanging a word. Feldspar cupped their hands to their mouth as they neared to shout a "HEY!" over the music.
They both startled in unison and Slate quickly scrambled for the remote wired to their speaker, twisting the volume dial down to almost nothing so they could talk without trouble.
"What's up with you three?" they asked, with just a tinge of suspicion.
"We're having an official Outer Wilds Ventures group fishing trip," Feldspar said proudly. "What are you up to?"
"Number crunching," said Gossan. They sounded rather sick of number crunching. "We're each calculating the weight of building a ship out of different materials and how it would affect thrust-to-weight ratio."
"Yeesh," Feldspar nodded sympathetically. "Sounds like you two could use an official Outer Wilds Ventures group fishing trip."
"I'm not going anywhere until these calculations are done," Slate said, widening just their upper eyes in an expression of mild incredulity.
Feldspar heaved a dramatic sigh, and Esker couldn't hide their smile. They knew their friend already belonged to the unknowable vastness of space, but stars above, they did like having them around on Timber Hearth.
"The calculations aren't going anywhere either," Feldspar pointed out. "I bet if you took a break and come back to it with a fresh mind, you'd actually solve 'em faster than you are right now."
"I don't see how distracting myself and having to start this calculation from scratch would give me a 'fresh mind'."
"C'mon, Slate, don't you want to come goof off with your best friends? Just like old times?" Feldspar tried, using their best pathetically pleading expression that adults couldn't say no to when they were a hatchling.
"We could probably use a break," Gossan murmured, glancing to Slate.
"Look, if I did come with, I'd just spend the entire time thinking about how I could be here instead, figuring this out, and then neither of us would be happy," Slate countered. Then they turned to Gossan, "You should go though. You clearly want a break and I could probably use some time to think by myself."
"You sure?" Gossan asked, searching their face carefully.
"I'm sure."
"Alright," they conceded, after a moment. "I'll be back to run the numbers on whatever you have left by nightfall."
They quickly sorted the papers at their desk and stood up. They were almost to the doorway when Slate suddenly interjected.
"Hey, hold up a sec! Gossan, you want to be useful? Grab the new surveyor probe before you go and take some pictures with it. I want to see how it performs in an actual field environment."
Gossan plucked a somewhat frightening heap of metal, wire, and glass from the floor, tucked it gingerly under their arm, and strode towards the door once more. So at last, the four of them set out for the pond Esker had in mind.
It was a short trek back through the village and uphill to the adjacent crater, affectionately called its elder sibling. It was old enough that it was only half as deep as the village crater and the once-sheer cliffs of its perimeter had eroded down to steep, grassy slopes. Esker took in a deep breath, savoring the scent of the pines, sap, underbrush, life. The sound of four pairs of Hearthian feet crunching through the fallen needles settled around their long ears like a warm and comforting scarf. The trees thinned as they entered the older crater, until sunlight filled it to the brim, like a bowl of celestial stew seasoned with patches of dappled shadow under the few trees. The crown jewel of the crater, the large pond sparkled in the light and beckoned its visitors to the water's edge.
"Obviously I was born to go to space, but I do love our little rock," Feldspar said affectionately, summing up the thoughts of their companions in the process.
At the edge of the pond, Esker set down what they'd brought for the occasion. Feldspar snatched up one fishing rod on the spot, Hornfels grabbed one of the striking blue blankets, and Gossan picked out the firestarting materials.
Esker joined Hornfels on a log under one of the trees bordering the pond and cast their line deftly, watching Feldspar do the same from their perch on a tree stump. For a long, peaceful moment, as thick and sweet as pine sap, the only sounds were the wind running its fingers through the trees' branches, the pond gently lapping at its banks, and the fire crackling as Gossan soon got it started.
They couldn't see it with their eyes on the water, but they could hear Gossan tending to the fire attentively, feeding it progressively larger branch after branch, footsteps when they got up to gather more fuel, the distinct fwoosh and burst of snaps and pops when they poked at it and made one of the burnt-out sticks collapse. The slow tap… tap… tap… of them bouncing their poker stick on the ground idly. The shuffling feet and poorly stifled sigh. Wandering footsteps again.
"I feel like you're still finding something to worry about, Gossan," Esker called gently.
"What, I can't be bored?" they huffed from somewhere behind Esker.
"Gossan, I'm not bored right now," Feldspar piped up, somewhat impishly, Esker thought.
Esker certainly wasn't going to be the one to tell them, but Gossan really could be as bad as Slate or Feldspar sometimes when it came to that incessant restlessness that got them into trouble.
"What do you feel like you 'should' be doing right now?" Esker asked instead.
"I don't know, anything? I just want to help Slate with the calculations so we can get them over and done with, and it goes faster with two brains instead of one."
"Not necessarily true with Slate," Hornfels offered, looking up from their charts to meet Gossan's eye. "You know how they are; sometimes they're faster by themself."
"They'll still complain about doing it on by themself, though," they muttered. "Hey, how come Hornfels got to bring their notes?"
"I'm quietly doing star charts. You were doing math, and you… can't do that quietly."
Gossan hmph'd at that, but they didn't argue.
"Slate asked you take pictures, right?" asked Esker, turning to look at Gossan. "You have to stand still to get a photo or it'll turn out blurry."
"That's a limitation of the camera," Gossan corrected. "We're actually working on getting exposure time down to reduce motion blur, so we can take better photos of high-speed objects."
Hornfels perked up at that. "You are?"
"I feel like you're missing the point of my topical and on-the-spot metaphor," Esker said, put out.
"It was a good metaphor, Esker," said Hornfels.
"Thank you. I'm glad someone appreciates me at least," they grumbled, but they shot Gossan a smile so they knew it was in good fun.
Esker turned back to the pond and realized, after all that, they didn't really want to actually fish right now. They really just wanted to relax, with no potential for needing to put in physical effort. And it was supposed to be a day of thinking as little as possible, after all. They reeled the line back in and set their rod down next to Hornfels, then peeled off their shoes and socks, rolled their pants up past the knee, and waded into the pond. The water was pleasantly warmer than they expected, likely a byproduct of it being in such a shallow crater and receiving more direct sunlight. The clay-like mud squished between their toes in a way that made them dig their feet into it almost instinctively.
They sat back, feet still in the water, and then laid down, folding their hands on their stomach. The sun was getting low in the sky, saturating it in contrasting hues of cobalt and orange and painting the clouds with a vibrant spectrum from cool purple to warm rose. Once again, they were struck by the beauty of the home planet they were privileged to be born to.
Distantly, they could hear the shutter clicking as Gossan finally took some pictures with the new probe prototype and smiled to themself.
"Hey, I think I got something!" Feldspar exclaimed, breaking their contemplative thoughts like thin glass. They heard the distinct, buzzy whir of the reel as they cranked it. Feldspar was not a cautious, methodical fisher by any means; they reeled in whatever bit at the highest speed possible and accepted the consequences of that in stride. "Whoa! I mean, I got something!"
Esker could hear Gossan's quick footsteps pass from their right to their left and then step onto a nearby rock for a better vantage point. The fishing rod creaked ominously. The shutter clicked.
Esker's smile widened. It was all worth it for moments like these. Relaxing in the sun, their feet in the water, listening to their friends banter with excitement. They were training to be the next astronaut, but right now, they couldn't imagine anything in space that could possibly be more fulfilling than this.
They heard some scrambling to their right as Feldspar stood up for better leverage.
"Is the fishing rod supposed to bend that much?" Gossan asked, sound amused.
"Yes, Gossan, it's a fishing rod. They're supposed to bend."
They could hear splashing getting closer as whatever Feldspar caught fought the line drawing it ever closer to shore.
Then they heard one loud splash, Feldspar's shocked laugh, and Gossan's shout of surprise, all at almost the same time. An ominous shadow fell over their closed eyelids.
With a sense of dread and calm resignation, Esker opened their eyes to see an impossibly large fish—seriously, it had to be over a meter long—silhouetted against the sunset sky.
Ah, well. That was the drawback of living on a planet with such a flourishing ecosystem, they supposed.
The fish landed squarely on their chest and knocked the breath from them, and all hell broke loose. The fish thrashed violently as Esker, disoriented and oxygen-deprived, tried ineffectually to shove it away. There was mud and water and metallic scales in every direction, rendering all four eyes blind. They could hear an incredible commotion as the fish slapped the water and muddy shores alike, and as their friends closed in on them to offer aid.
Then, as soon as it appeared, the fish flopped its way into the pond and vanished. Esker didn't sit up yet, still struggling to pull in a full breath.
Feldspar's face, both genuinely worried and trying desperately not to laugh, appeared in their vision. "Esker? You okay?"
Esker gave a thumbs up as their diaphragm finally recovered and they sucked in a breath—that they promptly expelled by bursting out laughing. Relieved, Feldspar cracked up next to them, and they could hear Gossan and Hornfels following suit in spite of themselves.
"Sorry, Esker," Feldspar gasped. "Genuinely. I didn't think that would… happen."
"You have a gift, my friend," Esker said with a wry smile, patting them on the shoulder with a muddy hand.
"Gossan, please tell me you got that," said Hornfels, walking towards them.
"Uh… let me check…"
They clustered around the display of the surveyor probe and Gossan flicked through the photos taken. Fire. Blanket on log. Hornfels looking up at the camera with a bemused expression. Feldspar fishing with their back to the camera. Feldspar pulling on a catch. Feldspar leaning backwards on the tree stump at almost a 45-degree angle, their fishing rod a circular arch in their hands, the taut line leading to a menacing mass of roiling waves and foam. And then… nothing.
"You missed it?" Hornfels and Feldspar cried out in unison.
"I-I was distracted! You try taking a picture when your friend just got attacked by some-some wild animal!"
"Maybe you were just living in the moment," Esker suggested.
"Yes! That. I was simply living in the moment."
Hornfels shook their head, still smiling. "Let's go home. We have a lot more laundry to do than anticipated."
My written entry for the @outerwilds-events reverse mini bang event is finally done! Check out my partner @outerwyrm's art piece that goes with it here! Read the fic here!
You should only write in present tense with extreme caution.
not because it's bad or anything but because if you do it even once you're going to be editing the bits where you shifted tenses out of your writing for the rest of your life
if u write in present tense enough times in a row, you can switch this problem around & get confused when your present-tense narrator is talking abt something that happened in Their past. I recommend this bc it keeps u on ur toes
it only took *checks notes* over a month, but i finally finished up these OCs!! 💪💪 i rlly enjoyed translating design and style elements to my own style ::] OC names and their owners below!!
Woah, I gotta stop messing with black holes. Anyways, be careful not to let your ears dangle over the anglerfish tank! Learned that one the hard way >::/
Blackholes? Wh-
-at.
Hello????
"Woah, hello there!"
"Hullo to you, too!"
What just happened... who are you and how did you get here
A Guest Oc has entered the Quantum Grove! They are open for questions for a short period.
Thank you @hellaciouscrustacean for offering up Fossil for the first in a hopefully fun series!
