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dtjcomposer.bsky.social
Jake Jacobson Style
@dtjcomposer.bsky.social
140 followers 89 following 1.9K posts
Despite everything, it’s still Jake || jacobson.news
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dtjcomposer.bsky.social
November 24, 2025 at 5:50 AM
dtjcomposer.bsky.social
I will say the Nature Dragon designs kind of kick ass even if several of them are named quite evil-y
November 23, 2025 at 9:25 PM
dtjcomposer.bsky.social
what's better that this?
November 23, 2025 at 9:10 AM
dtjcomposer.bsky.social
Dylas Hicklen
November 23, 2025 at 9:04 AM
dtjcomposer.bsky.social
mfer's named Dylas
November 23, 2025 at 9:04 AM
dtjcomposer.bsky.social
now who the hell
November 23, 2025 at 7:03 AM
dtjcomposer.bsky.social
WHAT???
November 23, 2025 at 5:28 AM
dtjcomposer.bsky.social
what about if I'm the third party tho
November 22, 2025 at 10:53 PM
Reposted by Jake Jacobson Style
austinwalker.bsky.social
So that you can enjoy it in its full beauty, here's the PAXU Realis postcard image in high quality, along with the in-game text & Sentences of Halfmoon Twaintcut's that Si was working from!
An image of a green/brown moon, cut down its equator, floating in a sea of clouds. In the foreground at the bottom of the image, a group of shepherds or nomads, along with their alien animals, look off to the horizon. Upsidedown at the top of the image, but still In the foreground at, a group of adventurers climb over rocky hills and look into the horizon. Impulse: Cut something of yourself free. It could not have been a blade—no hand nor hardpoint is strong enough to wield a sword so large. It could not have been a searing beam, as the edges bear neither char nor residue. It could not have been a dip into the Great Void nor the edge of Realis-Itself, both of which are known to take pieces of those worlds that come too near—for the halfmoon Twaincut bears no radiant aura, no abyssal mark. It is simply a half-sphere, smaller than most moons yet still its own by all rights, perfectly flat on one side, and curved as orbs ought on the other, rotating in the blue light of Realis like a gamepiece floating in black water. It would be a puzzle, except for the greater one: Whether human or beast, to be born on Twaincut is to be born twice—first on the prairie-like Flatside, and then, after one’s first death, on the village-dotted Hillside. Or else reversed in order. And so to live on Twaincut is to live twice, soul and sense contiguous, yet with only fleeting memories of the life before. A nomad lord turned village priestess. An ox of the field turned ass of the mountain. A chicken-keeper turned sage of the open sky. A child lost and then a child again. Simplicity and complexity, ease and ambition, clarity and ambiguity. This is the amateur perspective. No, it is not so obvious as that. The plain is flat, but it is not simple. The hill requires effort but not all who climb have aims. It is a dream place, a haunting. Life and death, youth and age redoubled in on themselves. Spend a while there and you may wonder what I did: Perhaps Twaincut simply split itself. People Sentences Twaincut flatsiders always see without horizons. Twaincut hillsiders always seek what’s beyond the peak. Twaincut mystics always remember both lives. Place Sentences The Twaincut Flat always provides for those who journey far enough. The Twaincut Hill always turns a traveler down a new path. Twaincut depths always split outsiders in two.
November 22, 2025 at 8:48 PM