march bugletter: game preview, rubicon, scars

Written

work continues at a tremendous pace on the Girl Cancer game, featuring some of Vich’s most stupendous, mind-boggling art ever!! (and music by lauren bousfield, rook, esper99…)

the Cancer Prize IP is one of gaming’s most iconic legacies and we at INNOCENT Interactive are thrilled to steward her into the next generation of gaming and safeguard her memory in the hearts of trillions of girls worldwide, as she takes on her biggest mystery yet…

our game has money so it doesn’t need a morality meter

attention!! we are now taking reader questions, so if you have a question about the game or xrafstar media, post in the comments and we may pick a few!

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In Skyrim

Written

I am the world champion of not killing myself. If you ever feel despair, say those words.

It’s been three days since I slept. I probably need a snack. Walking past impenetrable black ghost kitchens carved of obsidian. Acres of bought-out houses, coldly raptured under the overhauled night sky scabbed with nebulae. Even the self-driving cars seem to avoid me. After passing so many buildings that can’t be entered or interacted with, it triggers my condition. Snowdrops and peonies burst through the sidewalk, fuzzy purple Bugloss dope nodding in my periphery.

My brain damage and the entire political situation of the world and our universe can be explained by the fact that all people deep down inside have the genetic yearning to buy Skyrim multiple times, something which has been confirmed by all mainstream psychologists and psychological magazines and medical websites since then. It speaks at something larger within the human spirit that was seeking to erupt from capitalism, something good and perfect…

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bug convalescence newsletter

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Surgery recovery is painful but I’ve been lucky in so many ways. Thank you for keeping me kindly in your thoughts…
I will be strapped into this agonizing apparatus for over a month, unable to draw a full breath, unable to scratch my Trianon wounds…but as always, I put my money where my mouth is!

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STORY

✦ Conditioning

reverse conversion therapy? bored sadistic lesbian? you be the judge…

f/m/m with the young adventures of everyone’s favorite blonde handler lady…YOUR GOOD FRIEND AND MINE…

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game work must slow while I recover but here are some…

GAME PREVIEWS!!!

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Conditioning

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A lot of men hit on her, failing to understand what will happen. Some of them lose interest. Others freak out. But eventually she’s in a room with two of them who haven’t given up. Latched on like dogs. Two straight males in a back office of the facility. Lights off. The blinds slice evening across their bodies in sickly orange bars.

“So what? Are you going to make us fight?” And that is interesting, already; seeing which one tenses, and which one is prepared to do violence. She wonders if that dynamic will stay true.

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xrafstar merch splurch

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I made a Cancer character reference site! it is very shiny and cute and I put a lot of work into it…

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xrafstar killers game preview…

Trotula’s office features fully reflective floors and all the psychometric testing you could ask for…

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selling a limited run of INNOCENT stickers here, with delicious art by Vich.

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xrafstar world august megapost

Written

STORIES

in keeping with last month’s theme of one chill story and one evil story…

✦ Codex: Letterwriting. a brief explanation of how letterwriting works in the xrafstarverse. from an in-game document.
✦ Cancer Dancer. short and cruel and ballet.

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My new story is being published by a magazine around the end of September and Vich did the cover art. Here is a preview of the unspeakable brilliance…

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gallery show at Haul in NY, for anyone who wants to own my prints! there will also be the 18ftleash print by Vich!

🗺️ 24 15th St., Brooklyn, New York
⏳ 1-6PM Sat/Sun

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Cancer Dancer

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The dancer is a patient and must be made to comply. They cannot be trusted with their own sensory perceptions. They suffer from hallucinations of pain and delusions of exhaustion. There is no such thing as malpractice when it comes to the dancer. You cannot be punished enough. Your skin is an interface for needles and pressure cuffs. Your skin exists only to alert him to your mistakes. You must dance in a state of exposure, so he can inspect you for bruises, stains of clumsiness. Do not think your body is something to be admired. You are a disgusting male. But you are not a man. You are stunted. Your anorexic ribs are a kind of descended gynecomastia. Your bulge is sexless, juvenile, and clownlike. Your body is the mannequin and the dress at the same time. Beauty can never exist for you as a noun, but it might as a verb.

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