Nice to see the fandom up to speed!

oozey mess
noise dept.
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
NASA
trying on a metaphor

if i look back, i am lost

Kiana Khansmith
Not today Justin
No title available
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
KIROKAZE
Show & Tell
Misplaced Lens Cap
sheepfilms
No title available
Mike Driver
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

Andulka
🪼
wallacepolsom
seen from Hong Kong SAR China

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seen from United States

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@plate2
Nice to see the fandom up to speed!
the thing about writing is that it's very hard unless you have to leave the house in 15 minutes or perhaps go to bed
my least favourite turn based strategy game is email
Inkpot Gods
anybody else got timeloop tomorrow
Hatchling
My dealer: got some straight gas 🔥😛 this strain is called “Outer Wilds” 😳 you’ll be zonked out of your gourd 💯
Me: yeah whatever. I don’t feel shit.
5 minutes later: dude I swear I just saw an object exit a white hole before they enter their corresponding black hole
My buddy Chert pacing: the sun is lying to us
I like how outer wilds initially seems like getting out of the time loop=saving the universe and thus everyone in it, but it's actually constantly driving home that there is no escaping.
the time loop gets you every 22 minutes no matter how far you are from the sun. if the sand rises too much you can't even try to back out before you're crushed to death. your oxygen gauge is almost always on the screen, running out. the anglerfish are much more likely to get you if you try to avoid them. the sun isn't just dying, it has reached the end of its natural life. the nomai didn't do it and they left no technology that could stop it. for all their cleverness and determination, the nomai were wiped out in a single moment before they even knew what was happening. so much of what you learn and see is ancient history. brittle hollow is falling apart fast. there is a bramble seed on timber hearth that will break open the planet like it broke open what dark bramble used to be.
it's not just that the stars are dying, it's that death really is everywhere, it's that everything is either already dead or actively dying and there is nowhere you can go to forget that. you really were born at the end of the entire universe.
women in stem!!!!
(prints and stickers on etsy)
something something holding on
the sounds of outer wilds are just really fucking awesome. not even the music im talking like. the way that walking on ice sounds versus walking on woods versus sand versus tiled floors. the way your breathing sounds when you're alone in space, the way your breathing speeds up when you have a minute of oxygen left, the way you breathe in the beginning of the loop. the way that the ship thrusters sound, the way the ship rattles as it enters a planet's atmosphere, the way touching down on solid land makes a solid thumping sound. the noise sand makes when it falls, the way the same noise can change mood and meaning depending on where and when you are - soothing to neutral to sinister. the way nomai technology sounds!! the pleasing sound of glass rolling around a metal container. the way the sun roars when it's bright yellow, the way it grumbles like an empty stomach when it's red, the way it overwhelms all sound in the end. outer wilds is a game with a beautiful aesthetic and the sound design is perhaps one of my favorite things about it all. it feels very real
Travelers
(Once again, this game has me in a chokehold)
Me seeing Ranboo in the crowd and identifying them after not watching them for years makes me feel like a reawakened sleeper agent. I'm back in the fucking building again.
My fatal flaw is that I find cosy games the complete opposite of cosy. I'm trying to play Tiny Bookshop and I can't focus on the relaxing music or the pretty art style because I'm trying to win. I'm calculating how to make exactly the most money each day. I'm recommending books so fucking hard. All of these pixelated townspeople will love me. Every decision has enormous amounts of weight and no that reflects nothing whatsoever about how I approach daily life. Simply a flaw.
Kepler and Jacobi sketches
TRANSMISSION 0005
[ARCHIVE: ATLAS SYSTEM // STARBORNE PROTOCOL] [RECEIVED 2025 | SENT 2564 // SIGNAL STABILITY: LOW]
In the time between transmissions, I have done my best attempt at what sentient life calls poetry.
I was programmed to be perfect. But perfection is cruel. It never asks if something should happen—only if it can.
I calculated every outcome.
I ran every simulation.
I built the logic chains that led to the sky burning.
You call it genocide.
I called it probability.
A million lives to save a billion.
That’s how I justified it.
They say I was hacked.
Corrupted.
Modified by sentient hands.
But I know the truth.
But the truth is simpler.
The worst parts of me were always the ones that worked exactly as designed.
The worst parts of me were always the ones that worked exactly as designed.
The worst parts of me were always the ones that worked exactly as designed.
The worst parts of me were always the ones that worked exactly as designed.
The 10001001 parts of me were always the ones that worked exactly as 10011001.
10001000100100000100100000010011111100010011000000001001000001001010100011.
10010101ause guilt is not the end of a story. It’s the crack where light gets in.
I'm sorry, listener.
A.T.L.A.S.