Nms - Tumblr Posts

A new No Man’s Sky ambience! This time we’re exploring an extreme blizzard planet.

No Man’s Sky Fantasy: Titans’ Hills, an ambience video featuring Redmas’ Fantasy Overhaul Mod.

Planet coordinates below for those with the mod installed and who would like to visit. Euclid galaxy, creative mode.

I Love Liminal Spaces and Wanted to Go Fishing Indoors

This is the result.

I call it Mergek’s Trippy Hippy Liminal Home.

Outside of some eldritch gods, this guy:

Khrelan is my Vy’keen OC from the No Man’s Sky video game. He and Verity (a human) are two of my favorite OCs, and I enjoy writing their interactions. Khrelan still sees the world in a way humans can mostly understand (making him easier to write than one of my eldritch god OCs), but there are still notable cultural and biological differences.

I researched a lot of things for my take on his species. Vy’keen are warm-blooded humanoids who have both mammalian and reptilian traits. I based the Vy’keen respiratory system off a crocodile’s, and they require less oxygen than humans, despite being larger. There is very little obvious sexual dimorphism among Vy’keen, and it is assumed that Vy’keen rely on pheromones to tell the difference (although some human explorers believe that the metal beards seen on some individuals are an exclusively male fashion statement). You’ll see them extend their lower lips quite a bit to scent the air, and their excellent sense of smell can easily become overwhelmed by certain scents produced by the Gek (an amphibian-like sentient species). Some, like Khrelan, have learned that humans portray happiness or friendly intent with a smile, and have adapted their normal scenting behavior for interacting with our species. Results definitely vary:

(Khrelan takes a selfie with Verity’s camera.)

In any case, he’s really fun to write, and since I’ve been getting back into the game more I need to actually update their story. Hope my writing style is still somewhat consistent!

Which of your characters is the most alien?

For my No Man’s Sky fic, it would have to be Verity’s older brother, Sage.

She was in space when he was killed. He was part of a unit escorting a group of colonists to a new galaxy when they were ambushed. One of the raiders got a lucky shot.

Verity didn’t even get to return for the funeral, so sometimes it is easier for her to pretend he is alive. However, his death haunts her more than she would like to admit, not just from a personal standpoint but a philosophical one. What are she and her brother really doing out here? Sure, Euclid is friendlier to humanity than Andromeda, but that doesn’t erase the fact that both she and him are/were invaders. Even though she isn’t part of a militarized force, she is essentially scouting ahead for new territory. She had never really thought about the colonial/imperialist implications of her job before, and as someone with Native Alaskan ancestry, it makes her too uncomfortable to think about often. So she buries it under the wonders she finds, knowing deep down that her species and their home planet might be fucked beyond repair.

But beyond that is the fact she simply misses her brother, like she does all her family. She misses the person who taught her how to throw a punch, who hid fish eyeballs in her socks, and who engaged her in never ending Star Wars versus Star Trek debates. Every day she spends in Euclid, the farther she and her family’s experiences grow apart, and now she has lost the one person back home who would understand what she’s going through the most.

(Weird behind-the-scenes story. I tried playing as Sage for the fishing expedition so I could ask him some questions from the “afterlife” and get to know him better. The save became corrupted after only one session, and I could not get it to load again. Out of all my dead characters, he is well and truly dead, and appears to want to stay that way.)

which oc haunts the story?

Verity, my protagonist in my No Man’s Sky fic.

She enjoys documenting the people and places she comes across on her journeys, not only for herself, but also for her family back home. (I write an AU where Earth exists.)

In her rare moments of downtime (space exploration is a full-time job), she experiments with various editing techniques, usually accompanied by her oldies playlist.

Her sister tells her she should be a National Geographic photographer. Verity tells her that all the explorers take photos like this, and hers are a dime a dozen.

which oc is a photographer? what or who do they photograph?

Oh my god I've been forgetting to post my art for over a month. Anywho

What Too Many No Man's Sky Crashes Do to a MF

Been playing no man's sky, I've realized my love of hexagons, And I've submitted over thirty crash reports, not including the dozen or so crashes I couldn't report

Check out My Kofi if you really like my stuff ;)

Oh my god I've been forgetting to post my art for over a month. Anywho

What Too Many No Man's Sky Crashes Do to a MF

Been playing no man's sky, I've realized my love of hexagons, And I've submitted over thirty crash reports, not including the dozen or so crashes I couldn't report

Check out My Kofi if you really like my stuff ;)

Oh my god I've been forgetting to post my art for over a month. Anywho

What Too Many No Man's Sky Crashes Do to a MF

Been playing no man's sky, I've realized my love of hexagons, And I've submitted over thirty crash reports, not including the dozen or so crashes I couldn't report

Check out My Kofi if you really like my stuff ;)

Playing again. The crashes are back and better worse than ever! And I still love hexagons

Oh my god I've been forgetting to post my art for over a month. Anywho

What Too Many No Man's Sky Crashes Do to a MF

Been playing no man's sky, I've realized my love of hexagons, And I've submitted over thirty crash reports, not including the dozen or so crashes I couldn't report

Check out My Kofi if you really like my stuff ;)

No Man’s Sky

or: You Can’t Save The World, And That’s Fine

i fucking love this game. i love how unique its story and theme is relative to almost all other major games. its fundamental purpose is to gently instill in the player the impermanence and insignificance of everything.

let's talk about the ATLAS.

[SPOILERS AHEAD]

it is so easy to misconstrue the ATLAS as malevolent. after all, its Sentinels are hostile to those who transgress upon the sanctity and purity of creation - by necessity, the player. but later we learn that this is a self defense mechanism. the universe is the ATLAS, and the ATLAS is dying. and like any of us would be… the ATLAS is terrified. its internal hostility is a desperate bid to save itself from being terminated. to fix itself.

so what is the player meant to do?

you cannot fight the ATLAS. nobody can. the ATLAS is literally God in every theological sense. you can’t fight AI-God – just ask TELAMON, they tried. the ATLAS cannot be harmed by any action of the player.

but there is also nothing you can do to help the ATLAS. not even all the Travellers in the game can fix the ATLAS; its composition is far beyond your comprehension. the ATLAS cannot be saved by any action of the player.

the moral of the Atlas Path is acceptance: of mortality, of impermanence, of insignificance. everything ends, and that’s okay. enjoy it while it lasts. you cannot save the universe, but you can experience it for as long as you live.

most other games carry the central theme of “you can save the world!” and yet, NMS presents you with a universe where the reply to that typical attitude is an unequivocal “no, you can’t.”

it's not your burden. it's not your duty. it's not your purpose. you can't save the world. all you can do is enjoy it while it lasts, and understand that this is enough.

stars above it really fucking is. my additions:

so no man’s sky is ridiculously pretty

The Face of a Traveller

It was a dismal day on Alathil Prime. The amber sky was obfuscated by dark and furious clouds, and a steep hillside was all that protected a lone trading post from the searing wind and rain.

The circular door to the landing pad whirred open to let in the howl of the forest moon’s infamous jade winds, as well as something else. Trader Alss glanced up from cleaning the counter as the door snapped shut behind the newcomer, sharply muting the wailing storm down to a dull roar of boiling rain against ceramic alloy.

The new arrival was a rather imposing humanoid figure, steam rising from their black and red exosuit as they wiped rain droplets from their heavily tinted visor. The iconic helmet was familiar to the residents of this trading post.

“Traveller Kynon,” Alss called pleasantly. “So nice of you to stop by!”

Kynon chuckled under their helmet. “Good to see you, Alss.” They brushed water from their shoulder. “How is it that every time I come to this dreary little moon, it’s storming?”

Alss gave a sly shrug. “Why is it that you only visit when it rains?”

“An excellent counter-question, my friend. Alas, I don’t have much time for debate, I’m afraid. Making a rather hefty freight run between Ereb and Ingdiaw.”

“Ah, I thought I heard the Apostle’s turbofans,” quipped the amphibian trader. “What are you hauling, friend?”

“Sixty tonnes of dirt!”

The two of them laughed together for a few moments.

“Listen,” Kynon began, their voice taking on a more serious tone. “I’m working on a project, now, and I do need something while I’m here.”

Alss quirked an eyebrow, studying the featureless helmet visor. “What might that be, friend?”

“As much glass as you have in stock.”

The trader frowned in confusion, clicking their beak ponderously. “Glass, you say? Hrrmm... I have about twenty-five thermal crates of raw molten glass in the back,” they divulged, guarded, “but that is it. The glass is not cheap, either. Aeron Sanctum regulations heavily restrict terrestrial mining in this system, and there are no quartzflower farms within two photon-fathoms of Alathil Major. This glass is imported, at some expense.”

The Traveller scoffed in good humor. “Come on, Alss, you know I can pay you well. The Argo Fleet operations have been quite lucrative. In fact, I’ll pay you double what it’s worth, so you can get a new shipment as soon as it’s available. How does that sound?”

Alss squinted, trying in vain to discern any hint of a facial feature behind Kynon’s visor. “This project of yours must be important,” they leveled.

Kynon paused, considering their next words carefully. “I would say so.”

“And I sense that twenty-five cubic units of glass is not enough to fulfill your needs.”

“Most likely not.”

“I will offer a deal for you.”

“That’s quite gracious of you, Alss.”

“You may not like it, but the choice is yours.”

The Traveller snorted. “Whatever your price, trader, I can pay it.”

“You can, of course. But you may not want to.”

“What, my ship? I’m reluctant to sell the Apostle of the Sky, but this... project of mine is of great importance. I have other ships.”

“No, not your ship. A tantalizing offer, but no. Something considerably more personal.”

Kynon said nothing, leaving the silence open for the wily merchant to continue.

“My proposition is this: I will tell you the identity and location of my supplier. You can get as much as you need, right from the source. But...” Alss leaned forward over the counter, inches from the shining, dark glass of Kynon’s helmet visor. “In return, you will show me the ever-hidden face of a Traveller.”

Traveller Kynon was silent.

“You are welcome to refuse,” said Alss, receding back to a comfortable stance outside their client’s personal space. “But I know you, and I know your options. Naturally, you could simply continue to pay me for the glass as a geographically convenient but costly middle-merchant. You could try to find a supplier on your own, but it would be far out of your way. Atlas knows I would not stop you from simply defying the Sanctum laws and mining the silica yourself from anywhere you wish. But your cheapest, most convenient, and least time-consuming option is to sate my curiosity.”

Kynon stood motionless in contemplation for many moments, letting the silence be filled by the drumming of rain on the habitat’s exterior. At last, they stirred, and spoke. “You, my amphibious friend, make a number of compelling points. Why, you ought to be up there, haggling in the Rigel Alpha Hub!”

“Flattery will not alter the deal,” Alss bluntly stated. “Your face, and the selling price, for my supplier, or double price for every shipment.”

The Traveller’s head fell slightly. “How can I trust you with this secret?”

It was Alss’ turn to scoff. “We have engaged in the sacred tradition of barter for five solar cycles, Traveller Kynon. I have not been dishonest even once. But I wish to see the face of a Traveller. Your kind are anomalies, rarities, survivors of a dying kind, legacies of a civilization lost to the sands of time. Your face, your identity, is sacred to you, as trade is sacred to me. Faith for faith, custom for custom. You desire glass, and you can get glass elsewhere, but I have it. I desire knowledge, and I can get it elsewhere, but you have it.” They stared levelly at the Traveller, unblinking. “A barter.”

After mulling over Alss’ words, Kynon sighed. “You confuse the terms. I am a Traveller, but that is not my kind. Travellers are of many kinds, but I am alone even among Travellers. I am the only one of my kind I have ever met, and perhaps the only one at all.”

They placed a hand on their helmet, causing Alss to raise their eyebrows in anticipation. “My kind have no name, not anymore. But we are -were- reflections. Facsimiles of the world beneath. Please, Alss, be warned that what you see in my face... it may not make sense, or it may make too much sense.”

“I am ready, Kynon.”

Without another word, the Traveller raised their visor.

Alss gasped, taking in the shape of the weathered face they saw; the scars, the folds, the depth of their eyes, and the truth within.

Kynon lowered their visor once more, but the trader continued to stare, wide-eyed and vacant.

“Are you alright, Alss?” the Traveller asked, with genuine concern. “What did you see?”

A tear ran down Alss’ face as they spoke, their voice barely a whisper. “I saw a world of glass.”

No Man’s Sky

or: You Can’t Save The World, And That’s Fine

i fucking love this game. i love how unique its story and theme is relative to almost all other major games. its fundamental purpose is to gently instill in the player the impermanence and insignificance of everything.

let’s talk about the ATLAS.

[SPOILERS AHEAD]

it is so easy to misconstrue the ATLAS as malevolent. after all, its Sentinels are hostile to those who transgress upon the sanctity and purity of creation - by necessity, the player. but later we learn that this is a self defense mechanism. the universe is the ATLAS, and the ATLAS is dying. and like any of us would be… the ATLAS is terrified. its internal hostility is a desperate bid to save itself from being terminated. to fix itself.

so what is the player meant to do?

you cannot fight the ATLAS. nobody can. the ATLAS is literally God in every theological sense. you can’t fight AI-God – just ask TELAMON, they tried. the ATLAS cannot be harmed by any action of the player.

but there is also nothing you can do to help the ATLAS. not even all the Travellers in the game can fix the ATLAS; its composition is far beyond your comprehension. the ATLAS cannot be saved by any action of the player.

the moral of the Atlas Path is acceptance: of mortality, of impermanence, of insignificance. everything ends, and that’s okay. enjoy it while it lasts. you cannot save the universe, but you can experience it for as long as you live.

most other games carry the central theme of “you can save the world!” and yet, NMS presents you with a universe where the reply to that typical attitude is an unequivocal “no, you can’t.”

it’s not your burden. it’s not your duty. it’s not your purpose. you can’t save the world. all you can do is enjoy it while it lasts, and understand that this is enough.

No Man’s Sky ↳ Scenery [1/∞]

#having a lot of thoughts abt this post but im gonna have to type them out later im in dnd right now

op here, v curious to read those thoughts :)

No Man’s Sky

or: You Can’t Save The World, And That’s Fine

i fucking love this game. i love how unique its story and theme is relative to almost all other major games. its fundamental purpose is to gently instill in the player the impermanence and insignificance of everything.

let’s talk about the ATLAS.

[SPOILERS AHEAD]

it is so easy to misconstrue the ATLAS as malevolent. after all, its Sentinels are hostile to those who transgress upon the sanctity and purity of creation - by necessity, the player. but later we learn that this is a self defense mechanism. the universe is the ATLAS, and the ATLAS is dying. and like any of us would be… the ATLAS is terrified. its internal hostility is a desperate bid to save itself from being terminated. to fix itself.

so what is the player meant to do?

you cannot fight the ATLAS. nobody can. the ATLAS is literally God in every theological sense. you can’t fight AI-God – just ask TELAMON, they tried. the ATLAS cannot be harmed by any action of the player.

but there is also nothing you can do to help the ATLAS. not even all the Travellers in the game can fix the ATLAS; its composition is far beyond your comprehension. the ATLAS cannot be saved by any action of the player.

the moral of the Atlas Path is acceptance: of mortality, of impermanence, of insignificance. everything ends, and that’s okay. enjoy it while it lasts. you cannot save the universe, but you can experience it for as long as you live.

most other games carry the central theme of “you can save the world!” and yet, NMS presents you with a universe where the reply to that typical attitude is an unequivocal “no, you can’t.”

it’s not your burden. it’s not your duty. it’s not your purpose. you can’t save the world. all you can do is enjoy it while it lasts, and understand that this is enough.

The Euclid Moonrise

The café aboard my freighter, the Traveller Homeship Argo. Located at the fore of the greenhouse on Deck B, across from the crew quarters. Serving all sapient lifeforms since 16/16/16!

Don't mind the Vy'keen in the floor over there. They're just digging out a planter. Yeah. Definitely fine.

[releases a pheromone undetectable to other species]

Grah! Grah! Grah!

Allright so

I tried STARFIELD, yeah? Didn’t care for it.

Then I thought “Hey, maybe I’ll give NO MAN’S SKY a chance!”

And bruh, it is *hard* to rip myself away from it. It scratches a couple different parts of my brain at once, and I really enjoy it.