Ouroboros: The first year in development (+small update!)
On this day, a year from now, I sat in the stark light from my monitors, eyes bloodshot and hands trembling; and I clicked the post button. I then choked my pc to death and ran away screaming, scrambling into the corner of the couch on all fours, hissing at every shadow (only one of those statements is a lie).
It was 4 am and I had been scrambling to get the last details of the demo correct, mumbling to myself and reasoning with my dog. I was so happy to be writing again, after years of piddling around with lackluster projects. I never thought Ouro would be welcomed as it was, and to be honest, the fact that it was scared the living shit out of me. After the hype settled, and I sat watching the continuous stream of support that poured my way, I kind of crumbled. There was a long and dirty road of clawing myself out of self-doubt, impostor syndrome and perfectionism. Some part of me knew it was coming, since its very on par with how I am shaped as a person (sopping wet pathetic meow meow), but after climbing many hills on my ongoing healing journey, I felt like I was prepared for it.
Writing Ouroboros went from fun little sidequest to get my mind off becoming a sturdy part of society again (exhausting), to another workload, to form of therapy, then torture and back again. My writing journal is amusing to scroll through:
Things went from bad to...
worse,
until the storm finally weakened. Every entry in my journal from this point gets progressively more hopeful, more resilient against the bad days.
:> This was around the point where I decided I wouldn't give up, come hell or high water. The progress was slow, like bleeding stone and pulling teeth, but it was moving. By the turn of the new year I was battered and bruised, but still hopeful.
And I know that this, these emotions that I went through, were way out of proportion for a hobby writing project, but with every ask that came through telling me about your MC's budding journey in Ouro, every gushing emotion you've shared with me, every gleaming piece of art, every kind word; every correcting one, too, this grew to something really precious to me. I wouldn't give it up for anything, even if it feels like I'm barely keeping my head above surface in this terrifying, stormy sea of a life.
I can't wait to see what comes next, even if the road is bumpy. All I know is that I will keep chipping away at this story with everything I got. And all I can say is that I'm so grateful for your continued support and patience, I barely have words for it. You are incredible. Thank you.
Now, enough of my bleeding heart. Get over here! I have some treats to share.
Mainly, it is the little update to the demo that I'd like to share; Idren/Ida's 101. I did my best to finish it today, but I only had an hour or two of effective worktime (excuse: I was outside for most of the day in bloody blizzard and it knocked me on my ass more than I'd like to admit). It is cut off at the different scene transitions, which I will add after I have some time to work on them this saturday. Id's 101 was the most complex out of all of them, so there is still plenty to explore and different outcomes to see. I hope you have fun!
To see it, go through Lena's scene and don't scream -> accept alliance -> visit archives. That will take you to the new content. CW for very emotionally charged arguments and... almost dying.
Play it here. Save often. (or wait until next week as I sadly couldn't finish everything on time for the anniversary) (I have done bare minimum playtesting, but I will fix any gamebreaking errors if there are any, immediately. There shouldn't be any, but you never know.)
A sneakpeek of the short I also will be working on on saturday:
It is sunny on the day of $!{leith}'s funeral. It is not supposed to be sunny. It is supposed to rain on bad days, and the wind is supposed to whip dry leaves into dancing columns. Thunder is supposed to rumble in the distance, and then right near so that the even the windows rattle with trepidation. But it doesn't. The sun lounges calmly on the perfectly still water of Riven's lake, glittering with winking light as the serene waves lick the edge of the populated harbor. There is chatter, too, not the moaning whispers of grieving people. Not a sob to be heard, but the flutter of a laugh and a joyous embrace of lovers right in front of you.
"People have forgotten, the sacrifice we made." Lyselin stands in full knight-hunter armor beside you, the silver gleaming in the stark light.
And some art of F!Leith that I have started:
♥ That's it. Know that I'm working as hard as I can (both on Ouro, and learning how to balance work around it, lmao.), even if I fall short sometimes, there ain't no quitting. See you soon!
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got inspired by a fic i read the other day, but didn't quite hit the right spots for me so. time to write out a new wip idea
The concept of that fic really grabbed me - Jason and Tim having a bodyswap the same day Jason wakes up in his coffin, at a point after Tim had already visited Bruce and Alfred with his insistence that Batman needed a Robin - but for what I was thinking, by the time Jason convinces Bruce and Alfred of who he is, Tim's already started to dig himself out of the coffin. And when the three of them show up at the cemetery, the grave's empty.
Tim would be catatonic and go through much of the same stuff canon Jason went through before being found and dunked in the Pit. He'd end up enduring the whole League of Assassins shtick that canon Jason went through while at the same time Jason is dealing with Tim's regular person life. Both of them struggled a bit trying to imitate the other, but they managed- Tim with not much issue considering no one in the LoA was close to Jason, and Jason trying to manage Janet Drake's clearly growing concern every time he slips up.
Like, imagine Tim, desperately trying to imitate what he knows of Jason from watching Robin on the streets and seeing Jay in a few galas here and there. And one day, Talia tries to tell him he'd been quickly replaced to get him to finally listen and Kill Somebody/accept he was staying with the League until they deemed him fit to leave.
And Tim looks at a picture of himself, hanging around the front yard of Wayne Manor with Bruce, Alfred, and Dick. Another picture showing himself in an ill-fitting Robin uniform on a rooftop and seemingly getting lectured by Batman, who looms in front of him.
And he says "I'm not buyin' it."
Somehow convinces Talia that he's not convinced that the Tim in the photo (who is probably Jason and thank god, Tim was really worried about what happened to Jason's mind- or rather, his own body; he didn't actually consider Jason coming back to life until now) and she arranges a short trip for him to Gotham to see for himself.
Tim really struggles the next two days to keep up the Jason act, but he's pretty sure Talia and the others were just chalking it up to nerves at seeing his family again and the "newest addition".
When he finally gets to Gotham, he doesn't bother being stealthy. He doesn't have the skills- no matter how much Ra's and Talia's goons have been trying to beat it into him- and even if he did, he doubted he'd be able to sneak away from his own teachers that were stalking him from the shadows.
So he does his best to be casual. Walks straight towards Wayne Manor, and when he can actually start to hear his assassin stalkers the tiniest bit as he approaches the gate- a sign they're getting really restless- he decides now or never and bolts the rest of the way.
He thinks, if he had come sooner to Gotham, he would've tried fitting through the gaps in the bars- as if he was still 13 and small enough to fit- but as it is, Tim's spent 6 months in this body and he's not going to make that mistake.
Instead he slams a hand on the buzzer and says as fast as he can, "it's Tim! Tim Drake! There's assassins, open the gate!"
He has a heartstopping moment when nothing happens- when there's no answer and the ninjas are getting closer and closer and-
And then it opens and Tim doesn't stop with his relief, he runs.
The door is opened not by Mr. Pennyworth, but by Bruce himself, a belt clipped around his waist, but entirely in sleepwear. He has something in his other hand and as he yells, "duck!" Tim can only think it's some kind of bomb and dives for the ground.
He was sort of right. It was a smoke bomb. He heard and smelled it hissing away behind him, and saw the cloud of smoke in his peripheral vision.
Bruce wasted no time running past him and barking, "Follow Alfred to the cave!" Tim took a moment to just breathe, feeling much more safe with Batman fighting to protect him. When Bruce looked back at him through a spot in the smoke, he yelled, "Go!"
Tim scrambled to obey, trying to run and stand and awkwardly doing both to get in the home. Mr. Pennyworth was just inside the foyer, out of sight of the windows, now that Tim noticed, and holding a shotgun.
He was also wearing a fluffy blue bathrobe and fuzzy pink bunny slippers.
Tim blinked. "Uhhh,"
"Come along, Master Tim. We must be quick."
He didn't protest and followed him down to the Cave, where Jason in Tim's body sat waiting at the Batcomputer.
Man, I'm not completely sure on the timing, but imagine Tim finally getting back into his body and it's- he's taller than he used to be, bulkier too. And there are reflexes and muscle memory stuff he doesn't remember at all, but now just has.
He- he was Robin. Or, his body at least, and he felt like it. But he never was Robin. Not really. He never got a proper outing, never even received Bruce's official approval for it.
It was strange. And not totally a good strange.
He thought about the body he had. He didn't have a lot of love for it- puberty would do that to anyone- but it was his. And that saying about not knowing what you have until you lose it? Yeah.
Tim felt like crying.
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