#shkif update

[shadowsif]

Shadow's Kiss by Ajjia writes

A fantacy/romance interactive fiction under development

Guess who finally got Chapter 1 up? Me!

(Will probably still have bugs and errors so screenshots of them are appreciated)

I'm trying to get a style overhaul done next weekend that will include all the bug fixes that come up.

Thank you to everyone who has followed/commented and/or helped me with this.

Will definitely be looking for betas before next chapter goes live. 😭

[shadowsif]

So. Here is the link to the prologue. I'm excited but also blergh (worked 12 hours today). I'm going to put a bit of a questionnaire in a day or two inleu of beta readers, so I would appreciate it if anyone who tried this out could keep an eye out for that. <3

edit: it "works" on mobile but is a real bother and propably unplayable if not on bigger screen.. I'm really sorry about that. Will fix at later date..

edit 2: fiddled around with css, so it's readable though might not be pretty with mobile. I'm a hack and a fraud. this is a reference

Shadow's Kiss by Ajjia writes

A fantacy/romance interactive fiction under development

if you want to scream at me in some other form that is acceptable as well

Thank you for anyone following this and/or trying this out! Better New Year to all!

[shadowsif]

I remember seeing once a post in this blog about a comic/webtoon you were working with as a collaboration.Would you mind if I asked for the link where to read it?

There's actually two!

Am I Still the Villain? An urban fantasy with dragons, main (gay) couple dealing with after effects of war and all dramatic sideplots about falling in love/kids/retailwork. And what it means to be a good person. But it’s not that dark! (Except when it is)

Am I Still the Villain?

What makes someone a villain, an evil person? Is it possible to unlearn your past and become, if not good, then normal? When the war ended

Scaled is a steampunk fantasy thing. Much darker, starts with a continent wide pandemic and Stevan who's the pnly elf who survived from his village. He gets rescued by a group of soldiers and stuff happens. The second main character is Thales, half-elf "not a doctor" that has suspiciously many tricks up his sleeves. It starts as hand drawn and then gets digital after a while.

Scaled

World of fantasy, magic and Steampunk that is thriving towards prosperity until a mysterious, deadly disease sweeps over the country side. I

Please go give either, or both, some love because the artist has suffered from art block. 💞

[shadowsif]

A template update and fixed (hopefully) a few things and didn't break them.

Used @nyehilismwriting template and I'm an idiot so probably broke something while rewriting the code so keep sending me weird stuff when you find it. 🤡

Will take a few days off from working the main plot and finally answer a few fluffy prompts I've gotten ages ago and rewriting the beach/summer moments I did during my trip.

[shadowsif]

Got a few asks already but as they contain slight spoilers I'll wait for a day or so before answering.

But if you are stuck on "Back into the shadows"

Choice that's the end of the chapter. For some reason some endings have a link that's not working but all you'll miss is "this is the end of the demo" page. So a good place to save the game?

Thanks and sorry! 🥲

[shadowsif]

Progress update:

Coding for chapt. 2 is 2/3 way done. Would have been quicker if I hadn't started adding stuff and hadn't left surprises to myself while initially writing. (Add reactions to choice fml)

Will finish coding tomorrow and then hopefully publish next Sunday 🙏.

Yay?

[shadowsif]

A small update, a bit of lore

Hi!

Everything is crazy and the next whole chapter has taken a lot more time than I wanted. Schoolwork has been more time consuming than before.. I'm going to update the game this Sunday but it will mostly be a updates and corrections. It will however involve one or two scenes that will bridge the gap between the timeskip years. If you do not want to play it there I'll include those bits here as well. The first it below.

Hope you enjoy!

Lore

Pre- Ch 1

The candle burns on the table, even with the setting sun illuminating enough of the classroom for the Matriach to read to them. It’s an old book, not terribly large but the way she carries it in reverently, makes all of you pay attention. Usually she only has books for you to read from, torn and friendly to be dropped and tossed around. She sits down on her cozy armchair looking down on the book, petting the front cover with one wrinkly finger before lifting the mask of her face to you all. You all wait quietly as she takes the time to meet all of you with the blackness of her eyes. This lesson feels different than all the others before. Usually her stories and lessons of old history are told as you settle down in your beds, soothing you down to sleep.

“Tonight, I’m going to tell you a story. A piece of history you might think you know but you are young and mislead. And we know more, for we are old and have been here for as long as there have been people.” Her tone is serious as she opens the book, you spy faded handwriting filling the pages.

A king lived in a castle, the ruins you’ve seen outside of the city. Tall and wide were its walls, protecting from the outside threats. They thought they were safe. But strong walls were made to keep people out, not keep those inside safe from each other. For the king in his glory had grown creedy, careless and uncaring of the world outside his own circle. He’d asked, demanded and threatened more and more, his people giving and giving what they could. The nobles and those of the clergy not yet thrown and banished hoped he’d change, grow and become like his mother. They waited decades as the city and the country started to fall apart. As people died and suffered and pleaded all of it went unheard or uncared for. Finally, they were asked to give once more and it was no one had anything left to give .

So, they had had enough and stormed the castle, led by the lesser nobles in yellows, grays and greens. Merchants and smiths and shoemakers and bakers and all of those whose houses were falling apart and children went hungry and children's children's perished in their cradles.

The king did not run. Arrogant and proud to the last breath. As was his wife and sons and daughters. Together through the good times. Together burned and buried in the spit upon soil in the Weeping Willow Grove. Buried in the woods where once a magnificent garden bloomed and now creeped and grew eerily outwards year after year. Sick willows for no one was left to care for them, growing unnaturally but always taking over the grounds. Cullings of the tall, dark barked trees spewed smoke over the whole city every spring, darkening the sky for a week.

Change is not always fast; change is not always what people have wanted. Or needed. Things got better, then worse and then better as things tend to do. Years, decades and centuries later and things are what they are. Stanswick has had no king in all that time, has had no need for it.

“What of the shadows? What of us?” Someone asks, a whisper of a question that pulls Matron out of her tale.

“What of us? What of the Order back then? We are still here, still in the shadows and doing our work. Not for the crown, no. But for the city, for the country and for the people.” She pauses, her head turning to the windows and the sun that has almost set. The shadows growing as the light fades, painting the stone walls orange and yellow. Like a great fire in the east. A shiver runs through your spine as she turns back, turns to look at all of you.

“We do what we need to do to live and to see our Order flourish. That is what you need to remember from this tale. A king is no king if he doesn’t have the people’s hearts, if he casts a shadow too dark for anything to grow and flourish.”

You think about it. About the tales of old and the glory and prosperity of the city when every part of the world worked together under one crown. Some mourn for the days gone while some spit when talking about the king that once lived.

You don’t know what the difference between king and a noble house holding rule over the city and the lands around are. You have never met the latter and the former no longer exists. Does it matter who calls the shots when they are not the ones falling down? You’re too young to be bitter the way the old people are, though you know far too well the life on the streets when one has nothing.

Dinner bell rings and you are ushered out. Matron stays behind, you glance over your shoulder and see her look out the window. You think you should go to her, ask a question or two. There’s more to the tale but Hede distracts you and pulls you into a conversation about the food that’s waiting for you.

You let the thought disappear and focus on the now. You are after all a child and the present is more important than the past.

[shadowsif]