Loonstar256
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Summary
After the Plague, Artemy travels to the Capital to understand the present, and finds the past. Now with a Russian translation.
Bookmarked by Loonstar256
12 Jun 2026
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The Bachelor awakes from a very long dream, only to find that he has been talking in his sleep.
Bookmarked by Loonstar256
12 May 2026
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i’ve been getting along for long (before you came into the play) by mrcogito
Fandoms: Мор. Утопия | Pathologic
02 May 2026
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“I don’t know if you’ve used my mirror, but you haven’t gotten any prettier in the past hour, Burakh,” Dankovsky says, sounding strained. “Stay and get your rest, or I’ll have to contend with having you on my conscience when they inevitably mug you on the street—”
“You might need to lower your expectations,” Artemy interrupts. “This is how I look. And your mirror is in pieces, by the way, have you not noticed smashing it?”
Daniil smiles—it’s not a pleasant smile by far. “Stay,” he instructs, almost condescendingly. “And take your rest.”
Well, two can play this game.
Artemy parries back, “And what about you?”
[Or: one night at Stillwater; glimpsed from two different mirror-sides.]
Series
- Part 3 of all my recent pasts
Bookmarked by Loonstar256
09 May 2026
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How the Light Gets In by starsforscales for fireelemental
Fandoms: Мор. Утопия | Pathologic
09 Apr 2026
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“You don’t look like they’ve been mistreating you too grievously, at least,” the strange woman said. “Aside from the obvious.”
There was something of the university, too, in how she said it, airy and self-satisfied, with a capital accent even stronger than the sooty smell that clung to her coat. A new arrival in the town, yet she stood there as if she owned the jail and talked almost as if Artemis should have known her on sight.
“Who are you?” Artemis asked. Her thoughts, time, still didn’t seem to be moving much quicker than the trickle of water down the wall, cold and puddling. With someone like that standing in its doorway, the cell could almost have been a dream after all.
“Dana Dankovskaya, Bachelor of Medicine,” she introduced herself, with a little tug of the lips that said she liked doing it. Liked flaunting the title, maybe – a university woman after all, and what was someone like that doing in a little town on the edge of the steppe? “And apparently the most competent criminal investigator in this town. I was able to convince Governor Saburov that the timing of your arrival makes it absolutely impossible for you to have killed your father.”
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Bookmarked by Loonstar256
06 May 2026
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Artemy Burakh,
I hope this letter finds you well; or finds you at all, for that matter. Considering the circumstances of our last meeting, I did not have time to become familiar with the quality of your town’s postal system. Hopefully, it is looking better there these days.
I’m writing to you on a matter that I fear nobody else can assist me with. I have recently come down with a strange affliction, and have run out of possible explanations. Be assured, it is not the return of the Pest nor any of its derivatives, however, I fear you may regardless be the only one with insight into my present condition.
I am aware we have not always gotten along in the past, and I am to blame for a large sum of that animosity, so I pray now that you find it in your heart to offer me, at the least, your counsel. The train that I will take will arrive on the fifteenth of February. Should you decide to accept my plea, I would ask you kindly to meet me then.
Until then, Haruspex.
With Respect,
Daniil Dankovsky, Bachelor of Medicine.
Bookmarked by Loonstar256
11 Apr 2026