#and all of that was only on STANDARD difficulty. very glad i decided to not do the chainsaw challenge on violent

[dravidious]

You're the very awesomest

Just tried doing a chainsaw challenge P-1 and I can safely say I will NOT be P-ranking it

[anthologiemystika]

The True Black Tarot - A Review

So I had never actually heard of the True Black Tarot until recently when I was turned onto it by one of my online friends. Once I went to the site and found it, I fell in love. The cards were stunning and the website had an air of mystery involving it. I ordered the cards and have had them for a few weeks, and as such decided I would do a review on this stunning, and exclusive, deck.

The Customer Experience

This deck is quite a rare one to be able to get. Upon going online to the website, you can instantly see that the deck itself is sold out. While that gave me a bit of pause, I did click on the “More information” section and it did explain that this author hand pants portions of the deck, as such they only put for sale a few each week and reload the cart on Sundays at 12:00am easter standard time.

So that being said, I set a helpful reminder for myself the next week. When my reminder went off I politely told my husband I had to use the restroom, paused the show we were watching, grabbed my phone, and booked it to the bathroom. Midnight came and went on the eastern seaboard and the online shop did not originally have them. After much refreshing and an anxious 10 minutes (followed by “are you okay in there?!”) the shop had them in stock. At close to $100 this would be the most expensive deck I have ever purchased, yet something about the exclusivity made me press the “Add to cart” followed by the “Here is my last hard earned dollar/checkout” buttons. I am glad I did it then as an hour later, checking just out of curiosity, it was sold out for the week.

A few days later it was in the mail and within 14 days of purchase, the item was in my hands.

The Deck Itself

The deck arrived in your standard brown box. Upon opening I found another black box, buried under black strings/pieces of paper that got everywhere (I decided then that I had discovered a theme). Inside the black box were the cards themselves and a tiny booklet that went over the basics of the cards. The black box is meant to be a storage box and neatly holds the cards and the booklet.

The cards themselves are stunning. Each card has it’s own beautifully designed photo on it and the cards are made of a very strong card stock. They are super thick (almost double the size of a standard tarot deck) and seem to be able to handle almost anything. I was a bit sad to discover that the cards themselves are not hand painted (that I can tell), only the edging is, however I am willing to overlook that. You can tell by holding them that a lot of thought and detail went into the meaning of each card. This is a stunning deck, however it can be a bit difficult to make out the words on the cards in certain light (i.e., name of the card). This is due to a beautiful laser etching done on the backs of all the cards, and the artwork for the Major Arcana, as well as the titles and names of each card.

Pros

♦️Beautiful artwork

♦️Personally felt an instant connection with them

♦️Feels as if it is much more expensive than it really is

♦️Sturdy and strong cards, designed to never fold or get damaged

♦️Beautiful black theme

Cons

♦️Due to the thickness of the cards, deck is really thick, possibly difficult to shuffle for those with smaller hands

♦️Due to the hand painting, did come with a weird paint smell that has slowly dissipated but is not entirely gone (yet)

♦️The difficulty in purchasing

Final Thoughts

This is a stunning deck that truly looks as if it will stand the test of time and would be perfect for any collector. While beautiful, due to the minimalistic design I would say this might not be the best deck to learn off of or for beginners as it really takes a strong grasp of intuition to read. Overall this is a deck that I look forward to having for decades to come.

“It is only in darkness that we see the stars” - Inside Cover of Box

[regallibellbright]

[ID: Five pictures of a crocheted amigurumi doll of Namine from Kingdom Hearts. The first shows her full body. The second shows a closeup of her face, while the third and fourth show embroidered and crocheted four-pointed stars on the straps of her sandals. The fifth shows her sitting on a bookcase next to matching dolls of Lea and Xion, in their outfits from the ending sequence of Kingdom Hearts 3. End ID]

All right, I like doing full writeups, so even though I detailed a lot of how I made Namine already, I wanted to put it all in one place and include some detail shots I took. I'd decided back at the start of this project somewhere between February 2019 and summer 2020 that I wanted to make a doll of Namine as part of the set, which is why my standard tag is "Twilight Town Amigurumi" instead of something ice cream-related. I didn't think too much about when I would do her - Roxas's difficulty intimidated me, so he'd be towards the end, Xion I knew would be first because she's my absolute favorite (by which I mean, I made her IMMEDIATELY after we finished 3 and planned the rest after,) and Isa would go last because I don't have as strong feelings about him, but Lea and Namine were both sort of nebulous timing-wise.* Well, I ended up doing Lea second, and then I got tendonitis for the next two years and couldn't crochet nearly as much as I had before. But I wanted and fully intended to get back to this project eventually. And finally, last year, the time felt right. Semi-technical details under the cut!

* Sorry to Hayner, Pence, and Olette, but I only have so much space and these dolls take MONTHS to make since I'm doing their patterns from scratch, so I have to feel REALLY strongly about a character or their design to commit to it. Honestly I'm probably going to do some other stuff between Roxas and Isa just for variety.

I completely understand the desire for Namine to have a new outfit that's not a very simple sundress which she's been wearing since 2004, but also, this was very fortunate to me specifically, getting back into the swing of things. Her design is so simple that I could get used to making things again and then decide to get more complex as I went - her sandals, for example, were originally flat, before deciding midway through that no, heels would be doable, and I wanted the challenge. I completed one version of her hair entirely before getting a better idea that I wanted to test out before trying on Roxas and his VERY nice yarn. I knew going in that they'd be the hardest parts - the only question with her dress was how I'd attach it, really - so I let myself do a lot more experimenting as I felt up to it.

Both of those also include a LOT of sewing. For her sandals, for example, the sole of the shoe is actually the base of her foot, with a color change after the first few rounds done in back loops only. Once the legs were done, I added a border around the front loops to cover that they're all one piece, and that ended up being my attachment point for the three straps, each of which had its own yarn ends to weave in at the end. Plus two more for the heel, attached via the same method and surface crochet. And THEN, finally, you get to the stars. The crocheted pair were made with a very small hook and embroidery floss, and then the same embroidery floss was used to make the embroidered stars on the straps.

Her hair's made up of something like eight different sections sewn overtop a circular yellow "cap" sewn to her head. Each of the long sections (the one behind her back and the one over her shoulder) is its own distinct piece, and then the three central strands of her bangs are another, but virtually everything else is a separate piece from the others. It was a lot of work to make and even more to assemble, but I'm glad I did - it looks fantastic, with much more depth and messiness than it would have as a single piece, and I'm going to be using the same strategy for Roxas's spikes not too far down the line. Good to know it works. Also, in the process I picked up half-treble and treble crochet firmly.

I'd noticed some oddities when I was making her body and legs with how many rounds things were taking relative to the old notes I'd taken on the first two dolls, and the shape of Namine's shoulders in particular, but I figured it was a side effect of me taking VERY makeshift notes on Xion (as I hadn't planned on setting the project aside for two years and had only vaguely planned on making other dolls at all) and Lea's proportions being a bit taller and thinner. It wasn't until I tried to make ears, followed the pattern exactly, and realized they didn't look right that I realized what had happened - I'd been making Namine on a 4 mm hook, when the past two dolls were made on a 3.5, and this difference in gauge changed the size and shaping by extension. This made for a little trouble with the dress - what I'd planned for a more rounded body was trickier with the teardrop-shaped body I had. Fortunately, this proved to be a fairly easy adjustment in the end. Were I not telling people on the internet, no one would know that that dress gets wider a few rows in, and then widens again towards the bottom.

The dress is also where one of the coolest ideas I had paid off, and where the only real idea I had for detailing didn't quite work. I'd vaguely been hoping I could do picots to add further scalloping to the shell stitches at the bottom, which didn't work at the scale I was doing given it would be my first time trying picot. In the end, looking at it, it wouldn't have gotten me the proper shape, either, so I skipped that one.

On the other hand, I'd had a couple ideas from the start about how simple that dress is, and wondered if I couldn't attach the main part AFTER I'd sewn her arms on, and then use the straps so I wouldn't have to sew the dress to her. (For those reading a "how the sausage gets made" post who don't crochet, most amigurumi - the others included - have the clothes on the body attached before attaching the arms and any sleeves overtop, rather than having to account for armholes and the like.) What I ended up doing wasn't QUITE the same, but it was very close - I essentially sewed it partway so I could get her into it, since the top is narrower than the lower portion of her body, then sewed her in the rest of the way and the width difference kept the dress on. Then I made the first strap over her shoulder the same way I had for the sandals, crocheted across her back because the back of her dress is higher in-game than the front (look this thing's so simple that even the seam placement is a detail,) and did the same process with the other.

This took an oddly large amount of trial and error, but it was late when I realized I could be done if I could get the straps tonight, and things like "how many stitches will it take to go from the front of her body to her back" are always a little bit guesswork. In short, despite being a simple-loooking design, there's a surprising amount of work that went into this particular doll. But I'm happy with the end result, and realized the scaling issue just in time to account for it in her arm length and ears - while she's still a bit larger than Xion and Lea on the whole, it's not so noticeable that's unintentional.

As is standard for this group, she has a wire skeleton in her legs, arms, and up and down the back of her torso, in an attempt to make her head a bit less floppy with that hair weighing down a pretty flimsy neck. In the end, that's reasonably successful, and she can sit up with her arms pushed back same as the others without being propped up further. (Their heads are just the nature of the beast, especially with hair like that.) She also has eyebrows, though they're hard to see under the bangs, made of two shades of light yellow embroidery floss to approximate her hair color. It looks good, for all that it's a minor detail that doesn't photograph well.

In all, I'm super happy with how she did. Going to finish my first knitting project (I'm currently trying to figure out purl stitch) before moving on to the one they've all been waiting for for quite some time.

The good news is, changing my phone background today for reference material, I officially feel I have Ideas for how I'm going to do Roxas. I'm still going to be nervous doing some of the detailing - it's going to be tricky ensuring those checkerboard patterns show up at the scale I'll be working at - but while he's going to be a VERY intensive project, I now feel pretty ready to take him on. SOON.

[sportsexch]

Khawaja is highly motivated to play a big game against England

 

Usman Khawaja is in a good mood at the moment. From his rise as a star in his early times to being on and off the team, and now being one of the mainstays of Australia in the longest format Khawaja has experienced everything. From January to 2022, not a single Test player has run more than the graceful left-handed player (1608) and, among the top ten runners in this time, Khawaja’s standard (69.90) ranks as the top among the bunch.

The two biggest tournaments, the World Test Championship finals, and the Ashes series will be held back-to-back in June 2023. And Usman Khawaja is all set to implement his skills in the above-mentioned games.

In the lead-up to the pre-tour training session held in Brisbane, Khawaja spoke at long length about his development as a batter and the inevitable issues that will arise facing him in England.

I think I have a lot of knowledge to play a valuable game that can be helpful for my side to dominate the match, says Usman. But it is unbelievable to predict the opponent’s bowlers, as they create the toughest situation for us only in the beginning. So, we just need to continue our game for a long time.

The game situation that I like is to have similar competitors that are hungry to win the game by giving a tough fight till the last over of the tournament. And I am glad that I experienced this in the Ashes series that was held against the England team. And hitting such big shots on the departure of those two England players like Broad and Anderson was one of the biggest tasks for us. But we create a good way to dominate the game against them.

It is an important thing for a cricketer who played his first test match in 2011, and it’s quite exceptional for Khawaja, who played around 60 test games in his entire cricket career.

As a matter of fact, Australia has featured in the past 124 matches from the time of his first appearance in the year 2011. The 36-year-old was of the opinion that selection committees in Australia were not always consistent when it came to their plans.

“Over the past 10 years, I believe they’ve been very reactive and the media is also very reactive. For a cricketer you’re bound to fail at least one, two, or three times, it’s typical, then you make runs, and after that, you’ll fail and you’ll score more runs. It’s a normal cycle of cricket.

“So I’ve always been keen in picking the best players and retaining them because they’ll give you the most runs regularly and, I believe that in the past, when it comes to selecting players of Australian cricket, we’ve lost our way a slightly, trying to select players that are “in the form”. However, form is only non-permanent, but class isn’t.

The new joiners that selectors have made — George Bailey, Tony Dodemaide, and Andrew McDonald — are all experienced cricketers. They know the strategy, when to play a big knock, and many more. That’s the reason why our selectors take on new players for the team. However, I am on for everything. I love each way of playing cricket, as added by Khawaja.

England was an ache in the flesh for Australian batters in the past 10 years. Other than Steve Smith (65.08), Chris Rogers (49.82), and Marnus Labuschagne (50.42) The majority of Australian batters have an average of 40 or more when they visited. Khawaja’s statistics are quite disappointing since the only way he can get a score of 19.66 in 12 innings in England and that’s something he’ll need to correct. Particularly in the light of his successes abroad in recent times.

England is the only place that creates the most difficulties for the top three batters worldwide.

It’s hard to work with, but you’ll encounter some conditions and there’s some luck as well. Sometimes, you’ll see the other team out, and then clouds appear and you’re in the field and it’s sunny and pleasant.

“If you’ve learned something from my experience, it’s to work hard, work hard and, should you decide to travel to England take a step back and set minimal expectations. Then focus on each game one at a since you’re bound to be an ineffective batsman. When you do score, attempt to earn the maximum amount you can. “

For More Cricket News, IPL News Update Visit Our website : https://sportsexch.news/

[ibijau]

Concubine nhs pt10 / on AO3

Lan Qiren was predictably satisfied that next morning to learn that his nephew was finally willing to let him start looking for a young woman who would become empress. He had been pressing for it even before Lan Xichen met Nie Huaisang, and it had since become one of their few causes for arguments. This change of opinion pleased him so well that Lan Xichen felt a fresh new layer of guilt adding up to what was already plaguing him.

“I’m glad that boy can make you behave, where I can’t,” Lan Qiren said after being fed a lie. “I suppose I should have expected it. He’s smart, when he bothers.” To this Lan Xichen replied with a puzzled look, so his uncle explained. “I’ve been sending him books to study, and he sends notes saying what he thought of them. His understanding is usually shallow on most subjects, but he makes interesting observations sometimes. A good teacher might make something of him.”

That was something that Nie Huaisang had mentioned. Or at least, he had said that Lan Qiren was sending him books, blaming those less frivolous volumes he had in the little house on the emperor’s uncle. The way he’d spoken about it seemed to imply that he was not reading them, and he certainly never said anything about writing his own commentary on them.

It upset Lan Xichen to think that his uncle might have known Nie Huaisang better than he did.

He wondered if there was anyone who didn't know Nie Huaisang better than he did.

“If shufu thinks so, then he’s welcome to see if Huaisang might be interested in being taught,” Lan Xichen said, keeping his tone polite and distant. “Once I am married, I fear I might have less time to devote to him. Studying would provide him with something to do.”

And perhaps Nie Mingjue would hate Lan Xichen a little less in the future if his brother was given a chance for education. Perhaps that could still be saved. If Lan Qiren was the one to find him a teacher, it would certainly be a good one. Nothing but the best would do for an imperial concubine, and Lan Qiren had very high standards.

“I’ll see what can be arranged,” Lan Qiren promised. “I might visit him myself if I have time. I’ve missed having a student, and I’m curious about that boy. Even Wangji seems to think well of him, I can't continue ignoring him eternally.”

Lan Xichen smiled with as much joy as he could fake. He would have to warn Nie Huaisang then. His uncle was not prone to gossip, but he might become upset at Lord Nie for having used his son in such a manner, and Lan Xichen did not wish to see that friendship compromised. Not only that, but he did not want to be scolded for having behaved like a fool. He was ashamed enough about everything that had happened without his uncle lecturing him about it.

Having dealt with that matter, Lan Xichen went on with his day, not without some difficulty. He found it hard to focus on councils, or the people to whom he granted audiences. Every problem was important, and deserved his full attention, but his mind was elsewhere, and only through great effort did he manage to do his duty. Only a bad emperor would let private business distract him from his empire, he'd always been told, and yet there he was.

It took just as much effort to get ready to go to the little house that evening. Lan Xichen had prepared some reports he needed to read, hoping to somehow turn the time spent in that house into something productive. That plan crumbled when he opened the door only to be greeted by Nie Huaisang, dressed in his finest clothes, wearing too much jewellery, smiling at him as if nothing had happened.

“You’re home!” Nie Huaisang exclaimed, springing from the sofa where he’d been sitting and running toward Lan Xichen who only escaped his concubine’s embrace by holding up a hand and pushing him away.

“What are you doing?” Lan Xichen snarled.

Nie Huaisang stumbled, his smile wavering. He stared at Lan Xichen for a moment, eyes wide and terrified, before quickly lowering his gaze as he bowed deeply.

“His highness said he would continue visiting,” Nie Huaisang mumbled. “This humble one thought his highness would wish… that I should…”

“No!” Lan Xichen exclaimed, so embarrassed it made him nauseous.

He still wanted Nie Huaisang, still loved him. He couldn’t help it, not even when he now knew that the person he loved wasn’t real. But as much as he’d been desperate the day before for any sign that Nie Huaisang might wish to continue his comedy, now that it was truly happening, the thought of it was appalling. It was bad enough that he’d unknowingly taken advantage in the past, but to still kiss Nie Huaisang and take him to bed while fully aware that the other man did not want him back would have been criminal.

He’d made a mistake in taking what was only offered under duress. He would not make another mistake in continuing to take advantage.

“We’re not doing that anymore,” Lan Xichen said, prompting Nie Huaisang to raise his eyes and throw him a confused look. “I’ve told you, I’m only continuing to come here to avoid giving the impression that your family fell out of favour. I’m not… I won’t ask that of you again. You can be safe on that regard at least!”

That reassurance did not have the intended effect, and Nie Huaisang only looked more distressed. Perhaps now that the initial shock of being discovered had passed, he was worried about what his father would say when he heard about that failure, and truly hoped to mend what had broken. Lan Xichen felt angry, but sorry too. Maybe when the war was over, he would find a way to free Nie Huaisang from his current position without sending him back to face his father.

Maybe Lan Qiren had the right idea, about finding him a teacher. If Nie Huaisang could pass the exams and enter the administration, his father might find it harder to punish him.

“In the future, when I come here, just continue on as if you were alone,” Lan Xichen ordered. “I will do the same. You don’t need to dress up like this, either. Just keep on what you’d normally wear.”

“Yes, your highness.”

Lan Xichen opened his mouth, ready to say there was no need to be using his title, only to quickly change his mind. Much as that new proof of the distance between them pained him, it would be worse to be addressed in a familiar manner. This was safer.

“Let’s eat,” Lan Xichen decided. “Then I will work for a while and sleep. You’ll take the bed,” he added after a moment of reflection. “I’ll take the sofa.”

“Your highness should take the bed,” Nie Huaisang protested. “It would be more suitable.”

“The sofa is fine.”

Nie Huaisang hesitated, and bowed even deeper. “His highness is tall, and the sofa is not long enough for him to lay down comfortably. This humble one is shorter, and has fallen asleep there many times without issues.”

It was reasonable, but Lan Xichen disliked the idea of sending Nie Huaisang to sleep on the sofa while keeping the bed to himself. It would feel like taking advantage again.

“You take the bed,” he insisted. “I might not even sleep at all anyway. I have a lot of work.”

Nie Huaisang looked unconvinced. He pouted, as if ready to say something about Lan Xichen’s stubbornness, as he did sometimes. But remembering he didn’t have to pretend to care anymore, he just lowered his eyes and gave up on the matter.

The evening, after that, went on quietly and awkwardly. They ate without a word, Lan Xichen having to fight several times the impulse to put in Nie Huaisang’s bowl some vegetables he knew the other man liked, or to ask him about his day. That heavy silence between them was hard to handle and yet necessary, or so Lan Xichen tried to convince himself. When they were done, the table was freed and cleaned to Lan Xichen could work, while Nie Huaisang grabbed a book and took refuge on the bed. It was the same military treaty as the previous day. Lan Xichen couldn’t help being upset about that for some reason, though he tried to focus on the reports he’d brought.

Tried, and failed.

"Shufu has told me he'd like to come see you," Lan Xichen announced after a while, when he found himself glancing at Nie Huaisang again and their eyes met. "He is interested in talking to you about the books he's made you read. I would appreciate if you kept our current situation from him." 

"Of course, your highness,” Nie Huaisang replied, curling up a little tighter in his corner of the bed.

"He also spoke of finding you a teacher. If that's something you'd like, tell him. We have to start planning for your future after the war." 

"Yes, your highness." 

Lan Xichen frowned, wanting to ask what Nie Huaisang wanted, but refrained from it. Lan Qiren would be told, and he was the one who could organise those things. Having warned Nie Huaisang, the rest was out of Lan Xichen's hands. 

For a good while longer, Lan Xichen continued reading. He took notes as long as he could, until tiredness made that impossible. Then he laid down on the sofa, forced to fold his body in a rather uncomfortable position as he continued reading. 

After those last few days, even a bad position was not enough to keep Lan Xichen awake through the night. Without noticing he fell asleep, and only woke up a little before dawn. His aching back was what woke him, but the first thing he really noticed was that someone had wrapped a heavy blanket around him while he slept. 

There could be no doubt that it was Nie Huaisang’s doing. Aside from the two of them, nobody would have dared to enter the little house at night. Servants had been instructed quite strictly from the start to wait until morning to pick up empty dishes, unless ordered otherwise. But as to why Nie Huaisang would do such a thing, Lan Xichen couldn't be sure. 

It might have been nothing more than duty, and the need for every subject to care for their emperor. Or perhaps it was merely the force of habit, after three years of living together. Or else, if Lan Xichen allowed himself a moment of weakness, he could pretend that Nie Huaisang did care for him, not as an emperor but as a person.

A pleasant illusion to have in the vanishing darkness, but which could not be lingered on as morning light lazily inundated the little house. 

Lan Xichen got up from the sofa, and stretched as best as he could when he wouldn't let go of that blanket. Out of habit, he turned his attention to the bed, where Nie Huaisang was sleeping deeply. Just like Lan Xichen, he must have fallen asleep by accident: his candle had entirely consumed itself, and his book laid open on the mattress, not far from his hand. 

It wasn't an unfamiliar scene. Nie Huaisang would sometimes stay awake later than was reasonable, reading about poetry or devouring a novel. What Lan Xichen would do then, what he did again that morning, was to pick up the discarded book, placing something in it to keep the page. He would then make sure Nie Huaisang was warm enough, which he did that time by giving back the blanket offered to him during the night. And then, because Nie Huaisang always looked so sweet and peaceful in sleep, he would… 

Lan Xichen froze above Nie Huaisang, having stopped just before his lips could touch the other man's. He remained that way a moment, hardly daring to breathe as the realisation of what he had almost done hit him. Then, as if struck by an invisible force, he quickly stumbled back, nearly tripping on the hem of his robe in his haste to put distance between himself and the sleeping young man. 

Habit was a powerful thing, Lan Xichen thought as he hurried to make himself presentable so he could leave that cursed house. 

He would have to be more careful in the future.

[thran-duils]

Doll Me Up (P.11, Final)

Title: Doll Me Up (Part Eleven, Final) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark Mob!Tony Stark. On good days, you and Tony were a power couple. You, a perfect trophy wife with your hands in local charities to promote a wholesome image. Tony, business man but sullied with organized crime. He indulged in his illegal gambling, extortion, and political corruption. And he indulged in his escort business. Hell, that is where he had found you. You were a brat, and he loved a challenge. Words: 1,892 Warnings: Unhealthy relationships, smut, daddy kink, dom/sub, manipulation, death, violence, possessive behavior, drug use

Part Ten ||  Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

~2 weeks later…

“Come now, drink up,” Tony said, gesturing impatiently since he was needing to leave to go to a meeting bright and early, and you picked up the glass warily.

He had made you a smoothie out of hemp, cucumber, avocado, kale, ginger, grapes, and coconut milk. You had watched him adding each ingredient feeling more and more anxious. You just wanted an egg and bacon sandwich.

You grimaced as you swallowed it. You whined, “I don’t like it.”

“Yeah, I don’t either but it’s good for us, kitten,” Tony said, grabbing his own glass and taking a swig. He barely held back a face. “I’ve gotta be tip top shape for you and the baby. And you gotta be tip top shape for baby Stark.”

Scowling, you stared down at your glass, muttering, “I don’t like you calling it that.”

“I don’t like you calling it… it.”

“Well, we don’t know the sex yet, so what do you want me to say?”

“Baby Stark,” Tony quipped, taking another drink. He eyed your glass, nodding, telling you to do the same.

You took another long drink and swallowed it with difficulty. “It sounds too close to that annoying ass song.” Tony cocked his head in confusion, and you said, “I won’t subject you to it. Or myself to it. Again. Once was enough. I’m glad we are past the age – hopefully – that abomination is in vogue.”

“Well, now you’ve got me curious,” Tony said, pulling out his phone.

“Please, don’t,” you begged and then thought quick to threaten, “I won’t finish this if you do.”

Tony pointed at you and said, “That’s not fair. That’s for baby… the baby. This is for me and you can handle it.” Your jaw set and put the glass down, staring defiantly back at him. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly, not breaking eye contact. “You hate it that much?”

“Yes.”

Rolling his eyes, he placed his phone back down and picked his glass back up, taking another drink. At his relent, you did the same. Tony finished his and sucked his teeth before rinsing his glass in the sink. You forced yourself to finish as well and placed the glass back down on the counter. Tony grabbed it from you and rinsed yours as well.

He leaned in and gave you a quick kiss, “I’ll listen to it at work.”

“I am telling you, you shouldn’t subject yourself to it,” you replied.

“Digging my own grave then,” Tony joked before giving you another kiss, longer this time. He tapped your nose and said, “Do your laps in the pool, princess. Don’t forget. Doctor said that would help aches and loosening your muscles.” You nodded in response and he smiled, his hand coming to rest on your abdomen for a second before he moved past you to go to the garage and leave.

<><><>

~2.5 months later… (5.5 months along)

Tony had you on your knees on the bed, your fingers spread, digging into the bed, bracing yourself. He ran his hands up your sides as he kept a steady pace. He was being gentler than usual, and you were thankful, loving the intimate contact. His touch was sensual and loving. The further you got along, the more he was relaxing on the rough sex.

The two of you ended up on your sides, Tony holding you close this chest as you came down.

He laid a kiss on your cheek, still panting softly from the exertion considering he had done most of the work.

His hand slid down to your abdomen, caressing your ever growing bump gently.

“Look at how perfect and strong you are, kitten,” he murmured. He turned your head towards him and kissed you slow and deep. “A superhero in your own right, growing life.” You smiled gently at that.

<><><>

~1.5 months later… (7 months)

“She’s been good,” Happy commented, watching Y/N inside from the back patio. She was showing now completely, round, and no hiding her pregnancy. “I can admit, I am surprised.” He looked at Mikhail and said, “Looks like you aren’t a complete idiot.”

“Took you long enough to figure out,” Mikhail responded, taking a long drink, looking at the women gathered inside the room. He smacked his lips and said under his breath to Happy, “Not stoked about being at a baby shower but at least there’s a lot of nice ass to look at.”

Inside the mansion, you took the salad from your friend, who commented, “You should eat something else.”

“We are going to have cake later,” you said waving her off.

“I meant something more nutritious than a green salad, Y/N.”

“Spinach is very healthy,” you retorted.

“There are a lot of finger foods. Tea sandwiches. Meatballs on sticks with veggies. Deviled eggs. Pinwheels?”

You sighed, chewing the bite of salad you had just taken. “A couple deviled eggs wouldn’t be bad. And some veggie sticks with ranch.”

She walked off and you scowled to yourself. Everyone was trying to constantly get you to eat ‘healthy’ for the baby and it was getting worse, the hounding about everything you needed to do. You were tired of it. The constant asking about what you had eaten and when, the reminders to drink water as if you had not been drinking water your entire life, did you exercise…

Cassandra waltzed over, sitting down next to you. You were very thankful she had decided to come and had forgiven you for the scene at her house less than a year ago. She picked a crouton off your salad, drawing a smirk out of you as she winked, before she said, “I’ve been meaning to ask you. Where did you get this dress? It is gorgeous.”

“Tiffany Rose.”

“The blush color looks beautiful on you. And I love you went dramatic with the floor length.”

“Thanks. Would you expect anything less from me?” you asked, jokingly. She shook her head, smiling. You took another bite and swallowed. “Are you looking for a dress for your shower?”

She nodded in return. She was taking a break from porn – hinting she might not go back at all – having gotten pregnant herself. And then asked, her eyebrows wiggling, “Is the blush supposed to be an indicator about the sex?”

“No. I just liked the color.”

“You really don’t know the sex yet? It’s a surprise for everyone?”

“Well, for us. I’m sure Happy and Mikhail know. God knows Tony couldn’t have kept it all to himself. Good luck breaking them though. I’ve been trying to get Happy to slip up about it for a couple weeks.”

Cassandra leaned back and said, “So, he set it all up and then the cake cutting reveal is his secret?” You nodded. “Hmm, he put a lot of work into this.”

“He did,” you confirmed, taking another bite as your other friend returned with a plate of deviled eggs and the vegetables you had agreed to. You held out the half-finished salad bowl and they took it, albeit reluctantly seeing you had not finished. You took the plate and obliged them by eating one of the eggs. “He’s excited.”

You paused and then added, “Excited but he’s ready for rough sex again.”

“I’m sure you are too,” Cassandra joked, nudging you playfully.

“Yeah. I’m tired of just… growing.” You took a bite off one of the carrot sticks. “It’s never ending. And I know I’ve got probably another month and a half of it at least.”

“It’ll all be worth it,” Cassandra reassured you, stealing a celery stick off your plate now and biting into it.

You finished off your carrot, swallowed, and muttered, “I fucking hope so.”

Your hand came to your stomach, rubbing. You were anxious to know what the sex was. When the sex had been able to be detected, Tony insisted you should stay in the dark so he could make it an actual reveal at the baby shower for you. You hated not knowing when he did, but he had been persistent about the idea of it and you had gone with it because he seemed thrilled with the idea. You just wanted to know. You were hoping the party would progress faster so you could end that anxiousness.

When it finally happened, the blue inside the cake settled something in you. At least you knew what that part of your future was going to look like.

<><><>

~2.5 months later…

“What’s this?” Tony asked, seeing another travel bag next to yours.

“It’s for Miles,” you said as if that was obvious. You went back into your closet, grabbing another scarf from your collection. It was going to be cold at Lake Tahoe for the trip.

Tony took the scarf from you and put it in your travel bag. “He doesn’t need a bag. He’s staying here.”

“Wait, what?” you asked, stricken. He was only a month old. Barely.

“Doctors said one month is enough, but a lot recommend three months for trips. So, we are going to play it safe. He’ll stay here and we will go.”

“Tony, I—we can’t leave him!” you tried to argue, your hand falling protectively on his travel bag.

Tony’s eyes flicked to your hands and he gripped them, prying them away to grasp them in his. He stared into your eyes and said, “Sure we can. It’s only three days, Y/N. We will be back before you know it. He is an infant; he’s not going to notice.”

You were going to notice leaving your infant behind.

“I have to breastfeed him,” you tried another argument.

“Pump before we leave. You have back up in the fridge, no? And it keeps for up to four days. And then he can have formula otherwise.”

“I didn’t want to give him formula,” you protested.

“Don’t listen to that shit that says it’s not good. I had formula and I’m a genius by earthly standards,” Tony said, trying to make a joke. “I already got the formula, Wendy knows how to whip it up.”

“But—” you started to protest but Tony interjected.

“Just us, princess. Just us,” Tony said, his thumbs caressing your cheeks as he cradled your face.  “He’ll be fine. He’s in very capable hands with Wendy. You trust her right?” He waited for you to respond and you nodded; you did trust her, wholeheartedly. But that did not mean you did not want to bring your infant on a trip with the two of you. Before you could actually say anything, Tony’s hands fell from your face and gripped at your hips, sliding back to your ass to hold you close. “Let’s enjoy ourselves.” He leaned in, nipping at your ear, “Let me enjoy you. He’s been stealing all your attention as of late.”

You hated that last comment. Throughout your pregnancy and even from the beginning, you had had a nagging feeling Tony was going to get jealous about sharing your affection and attention. And that was just proving it.

“I deserve some attention, don’t I, baby?”

Shoving down argument, you forced a quick smile. “Of course, daddy. All of my attention.”

He smiled sensually, his hands kneading at your ass as he pulled you closer. His eyes were alight with adoration for you. “That’s my perfect princess.”

~~~

Forever tags: @coconutqueen21, @undecidedsworld

Fic tags: @kvzctam @farihafangirls, @teenageregression @mrsnegan25 @lilacs-lavender @agustdowney @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay @emmariexx

[lionessfeather]

Going Home For Christmas: A Sylvia Montgomery/Margaret Ross fanfic

So. Important note. This is as of writing, a fanfic. It's canon-adjacent, meaning it could happen, but it might not. It's 100% inspired by a friend mentioning that Sylvia and Margaret are a And They Were Roommates trope, which spurred me to say, "someone stop me or i might try my hand at a tiny bit of "and there was only one bed" fanfic)". Not one of my friends decided to stop me, so here we are. Enjoy a solid bit of And There Was Only One Bed fanfic of my own story. I guess appropriate tags would be: And There Was Only One Bed, Holiday Travel, Slight Angst, Pining, An Oh Moment, Particularly Self-Indulgent Writing. It's around 4000 words. You can read it on AO3 here, but you could also stick around and use the Read More.

October 18, 1885, in the morning

Sylvia opened the letter next to her plate. It was full of Aunt Moira’s happy chatter, talking about Sylvia’s new job, and the start of the school year, and how proud they both were of her, and asking questions about her lessons, before moving on to telling her about the parish news, and then about the difficulty in finding just the right raisins for the Christmas pudding, and that is where Sylvia spluttered with laughter. Thankfully she had finished her toast already. Margaret looked up from her own breakfast, a question in her eyes. Sylvia dabbed at her mouth with a napkin.

“I must apologise. Aunt Moira has a … a certain way of describing things, and she has apparently been having great trouble locating raisins that meet her exacting standards.”

“… Raisins,” Margaret’s eyebrow rose.

“For her Christmas pudding. One year she apparently only found inferior ones, and Uncle Roger teases her about it every year.”

Margaret giggled, which drained all seriousness from her face and made Sylvia melt inside, just a little bit.

“And every year, she threatens that he won’t be allowed to stir it – although she does let him in the end.”

“Your parents sound lovely.”

Sylvia smiled warmly. “They are.”

“I suppose you will go to visit them over the holidays?”

“Yes! I do hope that it will not be inconveniencing for you? I thought you might visit family as well.”

Margaret sighed, and looked down at the table. “I might have considered it, even with the long journey, but Papa will not have leave, and I have seen Nanny and Aunt Helen recently still. I suppose Mrs. Jones will be willing to leave me a nice meal before she leaves on Christmas Eve.”

Sylvia looked around the comfortable dining room and bit her lip. Would it be too forward if –

“You could come with me?”

Silence.

Blast.

Margaret lifted her napkin and dabbed at her eyes.

Blast, blast, blast.

“Truly? Will your family not mind?” Margaret’s voice was a slight bit unsteady, as if she had not expected anything like an invitation.

“They won’t, I promise. Aunt Moira loves feeding people, and Uncle Roger is so very kind. I mean, we do spend a lot of time around the church, what with Uncle Roger being the vicar, but- “

“I would love to come, if you are sure they will not mind. I must admit, I was sad at the prospect of spending Christmas alone.”

Sylvia drank a bit more of her tea as her heart rate settled down again. She hoped her inconvenient crush on her roommate would settle down soon.

“I will write to them immediately, though I know they will not mind in the slightest.”

-----

December 19, 1885

Maggie was glad Sylvia had chosen to cut the journey into two days. Travel was always wearying, and the seats in the train, even in a first-class compartment, were uncomfortable to say the least. Thankfully, Sylvia knew the railway hotel in Bedford well enough, and was sure they would have rooms available, even at this time of year. They were standing in the lobby, which was comfortable but a bit sparse. Maggie leaned against the wall, only half-listening to the conversation at the reception. Her thoughts had grown all fuzzy and it was only with effort that she could even listen to as much of the conversation as she did.

“Ah, Miss Montgomery, it has been a while indeed. You look well, if I may be so bold.” The speaker was a young man, and if Maggie had been inclined to look, she would have seen him grin in a way that spoke of a long history.

“Good evening, Jack. It has been quite a while indeed. I have finished my studies, so I have had less need of the Railway in the past months.”

“And what can I do for the learned professor on this fine night?”

Sylvia laughed, and the sound cut through the haze around Maggie and made her smile, too.

“Not a professor, I am afraid. They would never let a woman hold that position. But Miss Ross and I are on our way home for Christmas, and we need rooms for the night.”

“Well, you’re in luck then. There are still plenty of fine rooms available.”

“On the ground floor?” Sylvia’s voice was hopeful, and Maggie was so very grateful that her wonderful friend thought to ask that for her.

Jack paused, presumably to look at where she leaned against the wall.

“Ah, I see. Yes, I think I can arrange something there. When will you travel back, miss Montgomery? That way I can make a note that you will wish to stay on the ground floor again.”

“That would be wonderful, Jack, thank you. We will travel back on January 4th.”

Maggie barely remembered the rest of the evening. They had shared dinner, and then she could blessedly lie down, and forget about her tired, aching body.

----

From the diary of Margaret Ross

“December 23

It is wonderful to see Sylvia with her family, all so content together. And the way they have included me in their festivities is so very warm and kind. They have all taken my word for my limitations, and Mr. Montgomery does not at all seem to think that I did something to make God punish me, as other vicars have done. I understand why Papa wrote to him for help when we were looking for someone I could live with. Furthermore, the longer we are here, the more I understand how Sylvia has become the wonderful and kind human she is.

[…]

December 28

It has snowed. Although it has made the vicarage look magnificent, and like something out of a child’s picture book, it does mean I cannot really go out. Sylvia and her mother went skating, but Mr. Montgomery stayed behind to keep me company, even though he clearly would have liked to join his wife and daughter. We talked about many things – his and Papa’s past, the Incident, and even – very briefly – about my mother, but not for long, as those last two are not pleasant topics of conversation. He also told me more about Sylvia’s childhood, and told several stories that made me laugh.

After a while, I asked Mr. Montgomery if he could help me get to the bench outside, so that I might sketch the vicarage, and he could join his family. I also sketched the skaters, as they would add a touch of life to the painting I am now planning.

When they came back in, Sylvia had snow stuck in her hair, and the way her cheeks glowed made me very sorry that I had been unable to bring my oil paints. I do not know why I have not yet dared to ask if I can paint her; normally I do not have any problems asking even the most recent of acquaintances, but for some reason, I get nervous about asking Sylvia. I suppose I am worried what she will think of me for asking? Or maybe I am not confident about capturing the way her face comes together, or the luminosity of her skin.

[…]

January 1, 1886

It is the New Year! I wonder what 1886 will bring. I hope Papa will have leave in Britain this summer – I do miss not being able to see him and Nanny and Aunt Helen, but it really was too far, especially traveling alone. I am very grateful for the warm welcome the Montgomerys have shown me, and for not being alone this time of year. It was also wonderful to see this side of Sylvia, relaxed and with her family.

-----

January 4, 1886, late afternoon turning into early evening

They left late in the afternoon, catching the train back to Bedford, so they could take the early train up to St-Dunstan’s the next day. Sylvia kept an eye on Margaret, as she clearly struggled with the snow.

“Thankfully it hasn’t yet become an icy sheet,” Margaret remarked.

Sylvia hovered close by her – her roommate? Her friend? Spending Christmas with her had blurred the boundaries, it seemed – ready to catch her if it should be necessary, and holding the door open for her.

She went up to the reception desk.

“Good evening, Jack.”

Jack, who had grown up next to the vicarage, grinned down at her, mischief almost-hidden from his face. Oh no. Tell me he didn’t.

“Good evening, Miss Montgomery. I have reserved the ground-floor suite for you, as promised.”

A suite. Well, that is a relief. I was worried that –

“Just as well you placed the reservation when you came through,” he continued, casually turning around for the key. “One of the colleges has a big to-do tomorrow, and we’re otherwise full-up.” He winked at her as he held out the key, filling Sylvia with foreboding once again.

“Your suite is number 4. I can show you to it, but it is rather easy to find. Turn right at the end of that corridor, and it will be the first door on the left.”

Sylvia snatched the key from his hand. “I’m sure we will manage. We will need a table for dinner, and to be woken in time for the early train up north. Two hours before departure will do.”

Jack’s eyes danced with mischief now. “I will make the arrangements at once, Miss Montgomery.”

Margaret stepped up to the desk, taking the key from Sylvia’s hand.

“Thank you, Mr – Jack? You may have the bill made out to Margaret Ross, Lime Tree Cottage, St-Dunstan-Upon-Stream.”

Sylvia picked up their overnight bags – their cases had been left at the station in the care of the porters – and followed Margaret down the corridor. Out of the snow, Margaret’s steps were sure again on the slightly-threadbare carpet.

“You and Jack know each other well, then?”

“We grew up together. His family – the Summers – live next to the vicarage,” Sylvia said, before grumbling under her breath, “and he thinks that that allows him to take liberties.” Louder again, she added, “People thought we might get married, but neither of us feel that way inclined. And then I went off to university, and he started at the hotel. I think he dreams of owning a hotel of his own someday. Can you imagine, me running a hotel?”

Margaret laughed as she turned the key in the lock and opened the door. She gestured Sylvia in. Sylvia took two steps inside and froze.

Blast. I’ll kill that blasted goblin, shared past be -

---

January 4, still early evening

Maggie saw her friend stiffen, and followed her gaze to the bed. The singular bed. The room – suite? – was comfortably appointed with a desk, two chairs next to a blazing fire, a wash stand, and two gas lamps, but only the singular bed. It was a large bed, but still. This is fine. Friends share beds sometimes, and this one really is quite large.  

She vaguely heard Sylvia mutter threats to strangle the young man at the reception.

Maggie hung up her traveling cloak and put her gloves on a table, stretching her fingers to get rid of the feeling of slightly-damp fabric. She sat down on one of the fireside chairs and stretched her legs.

“Are you all right, Sylvia?” That seemed to snap Sylvia out of her daze.

“Yes, thank you Margaret.” Why won’t she call me Maggie? I must have asked a dozen times by now.

“I’m sure it will be fine,” Maggie said, gesturing at the bed. “No need to murder your friend at the reception. We can just pick a side each and stay there, can’t we? It looks plenty big.”

Maggie couldn’t read the expressions chasing across Sylvia’s face. Relief? Disappointment? Hurt? All of them? But why? What did I say?

Maggie’s hands itched to hold Sylvia’s face, to steady those dark eyes and see the thoughts behind them, but Sylvia was standing far away, and the chair was actually rather low, and some part of Maggie felt like it would be crossing some sort of threshold, although she didn’t quite know why.

Sylvia cleared her throat, drawing Maggie out of her reverie.

“That- that sounds like a fine plan. The bed looks plenty big indeed.” Sylvia bit her lip, and Maggie’s hand moved subconsciously, starting to reach out before Maggie dropped it back down into her lap.

“Anyway, I will go and ask Jack about dinner.” The brightness in Sylvia’s voice seemed to have the slightest edge of brittleness, and Maggie wondered how her friend had gone from annoyance to this.

“I will come with you. Could you maybe help me up? This chair is lower than I was expecting.”

It wasn't until she felt the warmth of Sylvia's hand on hers that Maggie realised both of them had taken off their gloves. Sylvia's hands were strong, and warm, and gentle, and - and surely, they must have touched like this before, over the past five months? But all those thoughts had fled Maggie's mind, and only the feeling of skin on skin remained.

They remained standing like that for several moments after Maggie was steady on her feet, until Sylvia suddenly drew back her hands, blushing furiously. Maggie tried to distract herself from the blush she felt on her own face. I wonder how I'd paint that colour. It's such a gorgeous rich dark, and the contrast- That line of thinking wasn't helping. At all. Maggie felt the blush deepen and spread all the way down to her ankles.

Her cane was cold against her hand, as Sylvia pressed it into her grip.

“Shall we-“ Sylvia cleared her throat several times. “Shall we go to the dining room then?”

During dinner, both of them studiously steered the conversation to small talk, the stay at the vicarage, their plans for the coming term, fashion – everywhere but their room, or what had just happened. When they returned to the room, the bed – the whole room, even – seemed to have shrunk during dinner. Maggie sat down at the desk this time, avoiding a repeat of the Chair Incident, and letting her write in her diary. She was, however, distinctly aware of Sylvia, who had sat down near the fire with a book. She’d sat down in her usual way, not at all daintily but with her legs drawn up onto the chair, and it suddenly struck Maggie how endearing that habit was. Why had she never realised that before?

Eventually, they both got ready for bed, and Maggie made sure her cane was within reach of the bed, and then they both crawled under the covers, carefully staying near the edges of the bed.

---

January 5, 1886, awfully early in the morning

“Miss Montgomery, Miss Ross! It is two hours until the Northbound express departs!” The words were accompanied by several loud knocks. Sylvia sleepily brought an arm up over her face, attempting to block out the world, grumbling at the early hour, and realised several things. First, she was no longer near the edge of the bed. Second, there was a distinct heat against her back and across her waist. Third, Margaret’s small noises of complaint at being woken up were adorable and entirely too close to her ear. She froze. This seemed to make Margaret aware of the situation, as she suddenly felt the cold of another body moving away. Sylvia groaned again, this time in mortification. She threw off the covers and turned the light up low, before making her way to the wash stand. There, Sylvia splashed her face with the cold water, before slowly navigating to the door and picking up the hot water that had been left outside. She peered back into the room and cursed herself for not grabbing her spectacles. She carefully navigated to the wash stand again. Margaret made her way over to her, holding out the spectacles, ready to put on.

“I figure you have as much trouble as me navigating strange environments.”

“Thanks,” Sylvia mumbled, mashing her spectacles at her face with one hand and balancing the pitcher with the other. She could now easily put the pitcher on the wash stand, but as she turned, she realised everything else she could clearly see, and she could feel her blush starting again. She idly wondered if that pink blush at the neckline of Margaret's chemise extended all the way down to- No. Not going there.

Looking away from that oh-so-tempting neckline, she suddenly noticed Margaret was leaning against the wash stand.

“Are you all right?”

“Mmmm.” Margaret’s tone was carefully noncommittal. She seemed to gather herself. “Yes, it’s fine. Everything is just a bit stiff first thing in the morning. I will be okay with some time.”

Both of them washed and dressed, careful to only touch the other’s corset and not the warmth of the chemise on her back while helping with the lacing. Breakfast was simple, but filling, as Sylvia expected of a railway hotel this early in the day. On the way to the station, she had planned several murderous glares in Jack’s direction, but it seemed not to be his shift yet, as there was a bleary-eyed woman at the desk instead, who wished them a good journey.

----

January 5, 1886, less awfully early, in the train

Maggie felt strange. She had been all morning, and, if she was honest, most of the evening. Her hand had been all tingly, and now her stomach and chest had joined in. She hoped it wasn't a sign of illness. It would be terribly inconvenient to come down with something right before the start of term. She took her sketchpad out of her overnight bag, with the idea of planning her lessons for the week at least. Once the sun came out, she might attempt to draw the landscape outside the window.

Maggie zoned out, lost in her own head, until the train gave a particularly violent jolt, pulling her back into the present. She looked down at what she would have sworn to be a lesson plan, only to discover a careful study of Sylvia’s hand holding her book, and another one of Sylvia’s face, lost in concentration. Of her lesson plan, not a trace.

Maggie blinked. I wonder what came over me?

She turned to the next page and refocused on her lesson plan, using the noises of the train to keep on track. When she looked up next, Sylvia had closed her book, and taken off her spectacles, and Maggie was taken aback by the surge of protectiveness that came over her from seeing her friend in such a vulnerable state. She smiled quietly, almost without noticing, and was suddenly taken back three years.

They were sitting in the carriage, ready to go out and sweep into the ballroom.

“But Aunt Helen, how will I know who the right man is?”

“You’ll just know, Maggie dear,” her aunt had said.

“But how?”

Her aunt smiled. “He’ll be the one whose touch makes your skin tingle gently. Whose voice sends soft shivers down your back. Whose smile makes you feel warm inside. The one you sense enter the room, because suddenly all is well with the world. And when you do find him, I pray to God that he will be free to love you as you deserve.”

Even anxious as Maggie had been, she had seen the sadness in her aunt’s eyes.

Maggie shook her head. I wonder where that came from.

She looked at Sylvia again, and saw her friend was waking up, and suddenly the world stood still around her, as if she had just run into a brick wall at full speed.

Oh.

---

Still January 5, 1886, late in the day

Sylvia was glad she had been able to convince Thomas to take both the luggage and the two of them. She could see Margaret’s tense body, and knew that every bump must hurt her friend more, but the walk would have been worse.

Mrs. Jones had left low fires in each of their rooms, and Sylvia could smell the pie left out in the kitchen, bless her. As soon as the trunks were inside, Sylvia ushered Margaret to bed, knowing that was the best place for her right now. She got ready to leave and bring a tray of food, but Margaret stopped her.

“Wait – please. I- I need to ask you something.”

Sylvia’s heart skipped a beat. No, she told it. Don’t get your hopes up, it will only hurt more.

She turned around and sat next to Margaret’s bed. Margaret looked flushed. It was probably nothing but the warm fire and the comforter, but-

“I. The book- the poetry you were reading.” Margaret definitely was flustered. Sylvia couldn’t suppress a tiny spark. “Not today- earlier. Weeks ago. Sappho. I. You. Were you- were you maybe trying to- was that for me?” Margaret’s hands toyed with the comforter, turning this way and that. Sylvia couldn’t breathe. She looked away, not daring to look at Margaret’s face, and gave the tiniest of nods, unable to form words. She barely noticed her own hands fidgeting with the comforter, rubbing her fingers with the comforter between them. The rusty-red patterns moved around in wild ways on the comforter. Margaret’s hand gently touched hers – without gloves, again, and so warm, so gentle. Sylvia looked up.

“I’m sorry, I- I didn’t realise-,”Margaret began, and worried at her lip. Sylvia wanted to touch that lip, to stop her from biting it so. She wanted to so badly, but – but what if it was all a misunderstanding and Margaret didn’t mean what she thought she meant, or Sylvia was reading into things or- Margaret cleared her throat.

“I didn’t realise- I- I only realised today- me too.”

Sylvia’s heart stopped beating. No. It can’t- I misheard- Margaret looked away and started worrying at her lip again and Sylvia couldn’t resist anymore. She reached out and gently touched Margaret’s lip. Margaret turned and Sylvia lost herself in those green eyes. They stayed like that for what felt like forever and only a heartbeat and then Margaret reached up and drew Sylvia’s head closer. Sylvia thought she might explode with happiness.

They kissed until Maggie’s hiss of pain brought reality back. She could feel a silly smile on her face, and saw it mirrored on Maggie’s.

“Did you want to take a powder for that? I could fetch Mrs. Jones’ pie and we could eat here and-“

“Would you? Oh, bless you, that would be perfect.”

The pie was cold, but Sylvia couldn’t bring herself to warm it up. Her hands shook as she gathered cutlery and plates, and it was all she could do to load it all on a tray and carefully make her way back.

---

From a letter from Sylvia Montgomery to Jack Summers

“January 10, 1886, Lime Tree Cottage, St-Dunstan-Upon-Stream

Dear Jack,

I wanted to write you to ask what on earth you thought you were playing at, with that suite – you know what I mean – and to make sure you received my threats to strangle you next time we meet. But, as it happens, it would seem I owe you my thanks instead, you goblin. Anyway, since I am sure you want to crow about this – yes, your plot worked. Though please tell me you don’t normally do this – I doubt it would be good for business.

Maggie – that would be Miss Ross to you – wants me to add that she is also grateful for, and I quote, “walloping me upside the head and making me realise my own feelings,” and says that you will always be welcome to visit. And to let her know if you need help with your hotel. I’m adding that any potential gentleman friend would be just as welcome – of course.

[…]

Yours in friendship,

Sylvia

[hrtiu]

Paradigm Shift Chapter 2

I just couldn’t get enough of Tech and Travie so I added another chapter 🥰. This one written in letters! For the first chapter, click here.

______________________________________

Dear Travie,

I made it back to Dantooine safely. My apologies for the delay in messaging you—I was assigned a high-priority mission as soon as I reached base. I would tell you an amusing anecdote from the mission, but unfortunately the entire thing is classified. All I will say is that rhydonium and Wrecker do not mix.

How are you? I hope the weather has not been too harsh. How is the blaster mod program coming?

Best,

Tech

______________________________________

Tech,

It’s good to hear from you! Don’t worry, I wasn’t expecting messages all the time. I understand that you’re busy. I’m glad you completed your mission safely. I don’t know what Wrecker is, but I can imagine Wrecker and rhydonium would be an explosive combination.

The weather is awful, as per usual. I really don’t have anything else to say about it, unfortunately. I’ve been testing our three best mod prototypes out in the field and recording how they react to sustained use. So far so good, but only time will tell.

-Travia

______________________________________

Dear Travie,

I had assumed that you knew who Wrecker was since you seemed to know who I was when we first met. Wrecker is a member of my special forces team. He, Hunter, Crosshair, and I are all modified clones who worked together during the Clone Wars and continue to function as a unit for the Rebellion. Wrecker was modified to enhance his brute strength, Hunter his senses, and Crosshair his sniping skills. We have a fifth member of our team named Echo, who was a regular clone but due to an unfortunate POW situation is now over 50% cybernetic material. I hope one day you can meet them. I’m not very familiar with non-clone familial dynamics, but I believe they can best be described as my family.

How is the prototype testing going? I was thinking about it this morning and I theorize that one of the less-efficient prototypes will prove most durable, because the conditions under which we calibrated them were controlled and ideal. I think one of the more conservatively-modded blasters will likely hold up slightly better to real-life wear and tear. I am eager to hear your results.

Best,

Tech

______________________________________

Tech,

You were absolutely right about the more conservatively-modded blasters holding up better over time. If only real life was a frictionless vacuum—then everything that worked in the lab would work outside it, too. Anyway, I’ve decided to double-coil the radaxium coils to try to get better durability from the mod. I think it will work but I only started testing it yesterday. I’ll keep you posted.

I’d only heard of you from your monthly updates on Alliance R&D, so I didn’t know you were part of a special forces team. What is your team like? Since you are clones, did you grow up together? I don’t know if it’s rude to say, but you don’t look the same as the other clones I’ve seen.

Please stay safe. I miss you.

-Travia

______________________________________

Dear Travie,

I miss you, too. Do you mind your nickname? I noticed you sign your name “Travia,” and you’ve never commented on it, so I wasn’t sure. I understand that pet names are a standard part of relationships, but I also realize that individual tastes vary. Let me know.

The double-coil method is a clever fix that I think should work. It is more difficult to ensure regularity across different units with this methodology, however. That would be my main concern.

I spent most of my formative years with my teammates. We are not batchmates, as many other clone squads are, because we were each developed individually at different times. We were also each developed with different purposes in mind, hence our unique features. I am actually the oldest of the modified clones, though I was something of a disappointment when I was first decanted. The Kaminoans had been attempting to increase clone intelligence from our base template, and while they succeeded, they did not anticipate that other traits of Jango Fett’s might degrade in the process. Essentially, they were disappointed I was small and relatively weak compared to the standard clone.

Wrecker and Hunter are the next oldest, and they were decanted at almost the same time. Wrecker was a correction from me, but like me his enhancements in physical strength led to disadvantages in other areas, in his case in critical thinking. He is a very sweet but admittedly simple-minded clone. He is everything I am not, but I find myself frequently reminded of the advantages of not being me.

Hunter’s senses were significantly enhanced, but this led him to having even more serious sensory overload issues than I have. He is quite adept at managing them, but I understand the mental strain can be quite intense at times. He is the leader of our team, and I admire his tracking skills and intuition.

Crosshair is the youngest of all of us. When he was designed, the Kaminoans had a better sense for how to diminish undesirable mutations, but this also led to his modifications being less ambitious than the previous ones. His eyesight, breath control, and temperament were all adjusted to suit him for sniping. He is an excellent sniper, though sometimes he has difficulty seeing the bigger picture.

Echo started out as a regular clone, but the significant modifications he endured at the hands of the Techno Union has rendered him emaciated and pale. His cybernetics allow him to interface in truly unique ways with technology, and he has developed quite a skill for hacking. I do worry, sometimes, if he might one day render me obsolete.

There is much more to say about my squadmates, but unfortunately I am already running late for a lecture on potential developments in the field of hyperspace tracking. I hope you are well.

Best,

Tech

Keep Reading

[jazy3]

Thoughts on Grey’s Anatomy: 17X4

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

This week we finally got the answer to the question that was on everyone’s minds: Who’s on the beach?!?!? And the answer was none other than George O’Malley! I was right! Ha! I love it when that happens. Yes George was on the beach and we got to see him have a lovely heart to heart with Meredith about life and death, how things were for her and the others after he died, and what life is like for her now.

I was surprised that the heart to heart meaningful conversation turned out to be between Meredith and George and not Meredith and Derek, but I feel like that is coming later. I think the meaningful conversation with Derek will happen right at the end of Meredith’s beach adventure just before she recovers and comes back to the land of the living.

I like that they addressed why Derek and George look older than they did the last time we saw them by having George say that maybe they look older to Meredith and by virtue the audience because that’s how she likes to think of and picture them. The sand isn’t real, the water isn’t real, and Meredith’s perceptions of them and their physical appearances aren’t real either.

We see Richard and Bailey join Meredith and George on the beach at the end sequence when the real life Richard and Bailey move closer to Meredith’s bedside and talk to her which establishes that the beach is neither here nor there. It’s not the afterlife, but it is. It’s not heaven or hell, but it can be. It’s all happening in Meredith’s head, but it’s not. It’s a dream, but it’s also reality.

I liked the call backs to how Meredith, Alex, Cristina, and Izzie laughed a George’s funeral at the ridiculousness of it all. We also got some introspection from Meredith when George asks if she still dances it out like she used to and she says no and that she hasn’t really since she lost Cristina. George gently reminds her that Cristina isn’t dead like him. 

She’s still very much alive she just lives someplace else and that she shouldn’t give up on something she loves that makes her happy because Cristina lives in Zurich, Switzerland instead of Seattle, U.S.A. But we also get some insight here that to Meredith, Cristina moving an ocean away felt like a death and still does. She hasn’t danced it out like that since she left because she’s mourning that loss and to her not being able to see Cristina whenever she wants to is akin to not being able to see people like Derek, George, and Lexie like she used to because they’re gone.

Alex’s departure is different in that way in that once the pandemic is over and travel has opened back up and she’s done being mad at him she can go see Alex and Izzie and the kids whenever she wants. She doesn’t even have to get on a plane if she doesn’t want to. She can drive or take the train. The same holds true for Callie and Arizona. But the loss of people like Cristina, Derek, George, Mark, and Lexie is different because she can’t. Getting to Cristina means enduring at least two separate several hour flights across an ocean and she hates flying. 

Seeing all of those other people is impossible because they’re not alive anymore. And she feels that loss everyday whether she’s able to verbalize it or not. I loved Meredith’s ending line about finding your people and holding them close because those are the ones that get you through the tough times. The fact that she made Richard her POA comes full circle in this episode when we see him trying to comfort her and make a decision at her bedside. 

Richard is struggling about whether to enroll Meredith in the trial when he realizes she’s trying to say something. He gets closer and tells her he’s here for her only to realize she’s mumbling in her sleep and talking to George. Because Richard has seen Meredith and the others through it all he knows exactly who George is. He knows what the significance of that is and he realizes that she’s not trying to speak to him or get better. She’s talking to her friend George on the other side. She’s dying and if he doesn't do something soon she’ll join him. This realization causes him to decide to enroll Meredith in the trial.

I like that we also got an update on George’s Mom who we last saw in Season 8 talking to Callie about her marriage to Arizona and the birth of her daughter Sofia. George tells Meredith that grief is different for everyone and that his mother carries hers and that makes him sad and that sometimes he tries to shake it out of her and try to let her know that he’s still there and he’s still him even though she can’t see him anymore.

I loved how Meredith commented that he’s basically haunting her and George replied, “Well sure if you want to call it that.” The gentle teasing nature they had between them as friends was one of the things I loved most about their relationship and it was nice to see that here. I also liked their conversation about choices. Meredith asks if it’s her choice whether she stays or goes, and George says that it depends. Some people get to choose, and some don’t. He would have stayed if he could, but she appears to have a choice. On the one hand she’s worried about the kids and how losing her and becoming orphans will affect them.

On the other hand, she’s tired and has been through a lot and all the people she loves are on that beach. So, it’s a tough call for her to make. When they were sitting there on that beach and George turned to Meredith and said, “If you stay here you might break him,” and they turned to reveal Richard sitting next to her? Ugh that got me! Also watching Meredith shake convulsively from COVID while unconscious and talking to her dead friend was unnerving and a little scary especially since this is a real disease that is hurting real people. My heart breaks for anyone going through this in real life.

I also loved their exchange about the kids. Where he tells them how great they are and she says he never got to meet them and he tells her that he checks in on her and them from time to time. I also love that his comment establishes that all of the other people Meredith has lost are able to check in on her and the kids and that the other people that other characters have lost can do the same. It’s a nice image and something I think all of us in the real world like to imagine and believe when we lose a loved one. That they’re watching over us.

I loved how in Meredith’s Voice Over this episode she says that Medical schools often ask applicants for an essay describing a time they faced adversity and how they overcame it because they want to know how people will cope with the challenges they'll face as a doctor. And that some students worry they have nothing to write about because they haven't faced difficulty. She didn't have that problem. LOL!

Meredith is the main character, the lead star, and the anchor of the series and they introduced this plot in the premiere this season which mostly likely means that she won’t die or be sidelined by this permanently. And since the show is reflecting a real world disease and pandemic that means that if Meredith lives one of the other characters or someone else close to them will be dying from it most likely. Sadly, it looks like that might be Tom after this episode.

Tom’s got some funny dialogue when he tries to interrupt the staff meeting Richard is holding about COVID by tablet and with Helm when she comes by to drop off his COVID test. I liked how Jackson just walked over and knocked over the tablet to shut him up and everyone just laughed and carried on. His scenes with Helm were pretty funny too. The Zombie appearing on screen scared me though!

In the end we see that Teddy finally comes to talk to him and bring him soup after Helm tells her how bad he’s doing and how much he needs a friend as she desperately tries to save Meredith. When Tom didn’t answer the door or make a sound my first thought was that he had collapsed, but no it’s worse than that because as Teddy turns to leave the camera pans over and we see Tom cold and shaking in a blanket on the other side of the door unable to respond.

Which means his condition has worsened and he’s in pain, but he can’t communicate that to Teddy because he’s too weak to speak or he can’t make his voice loud enough to be heard over the pouring rain. Man that was some downpour! I wonder if it was fake rain that they created or if it rained that heavily the day they filmed that scene. Good to see Tom finally bought a house though! Seeing as last we saw he was living out of a hotel and then got Teddy a beautiful apartment only to find out at the last minute that she had gotten back together with Owen so he went back to living in a hotel again. Glad to see he got some digs.

I’ll be sad if they write Tom off as a character as I’ve really come to like him and he’s interesting and complex. Plus, I love seeing someone call Owen on his crap with such humour! We also got some good social commentary on how health practitioners often base treatment protocols and assessments on the standards of care and presentation developed for white patients, but that because diseases present differently in people of different races and genders that needs to be accounted for.

Especially because your race, gender, and where you grew up affects your predisposition for certain illnesses and can affect the presentation. Owen failed to catch something serious with his patient when they were initially brought in because he was using the standard developed for white patients which is different from the standard for Asian patients. 

One of the new interns who is Asian brings this up to Nico who eventually says something to Owen who brings it up to Bailey who calls him on his privilege and reminds him that he needs to not only check himself, but because he is white and is the head of Trauma for the hospital it is his responsibility to update and improve protocols to make sure that every patient is getting the best care possible.

As Bailey says true equality means taking into account that we are all different. And when it comes to medicine conditions present themselves in different ways based on race and other factors. Giving everyone the exact same care based on a standard of care developed by and for white people is not equality because it means that people of colour like his patient receive a lower standard of care which can lead to unnecessary suffering and death.

True equality means providing equitable care that takes into account who a patient is physically when treating them. As Bailey says equitable care is not the same as equal care. One takes into account the reality and ensures true equal treatment while the other gives the appearance of equality while disadvantaging anyone who’s not a white straight cisgender man. While I like that they addressed that Nico was a complete jerk to everyone this episode.

He acted like the whole thing was no big deal when the intern brought it up and brushed off her comments about Anti-Asian racism from earlier in the episode that we’re totally valid. The intern was looking for some solidarity and for someone above her to back her up on some real issues. Instead Nico blew her off and talked down to her only to bring the issue up himself to Owen in the exact way he told her not to. Nico’s a good surgeon and he was right to say something, but he is a horrible human being, teacher, and boyfriend.

He continues to treat Levi horribly for no reason and as Jo says Levi deserves better. I liked Jo and Levi’s interactions this episode. They were funny and I love them! Also did anyone else think it was weird that Jo and Levi were having a conversation about how horrible Nico is as a person and how horribly he treats Levi when Nico was literally a metre or two in front of them and could hear everything they were saying? Nico’s an ass and apparently, he doesn't care that he’s an ass and that everyone thinks that of him.

I’m actually liking the whole Jo and Jackson friends with benefits situation. So far, its made for some good comic relief! I like too that we finally saw Jackson admit that he’s jumped from one relationship to another way too fast for his whole run on the show and that he needs to take some time and get some therapy and figure out what he wants. I love that Jo was immediately on the same page and laughed at the idea of them having a relationship right now. She needs a sex buddy, not a partner. He’s got work to do on himself and as she says she feels broken and is still trying to heal from the trauma she has experienced.

I also liked the scenes with Amelia and Link. I like that Amelia was able to express herself and her frustrations and that Link made the decision to support her. My best friend that I watch with made comment that she felt like under the same circumstances Owen would have just stormed back into the house whereas Link angrily moved some toys aside so that he could sit next to Amelia while she felt all her feelings and talked about them because that’s what she needed to do. 

I also liked that when Amelia tried to push Link to talk later on he opened up about his process and was straight with her. Talking about all of her feelings out loud and in the open because if she bottles them up, she’ll wind up relapsing is her thing. Link’s thing is to focus on the positive and play his guitar. As Link says he’s happy to support her on her thing, but if she wants their relationship to work she has to support him on his thing. And she does. 

My favourite line this episode? “What are you playing?” “It’s a song called ‘If The Virus Doesn’t End Us, Then Climate Change Probably Will.’” Too funny! And accurate! We also learn that Amelia loves to garden and is apparently quite good at it and they appear to have a herb and vegetable garden at Meredith’s house. We get some awkward dinner interaction courtesy of Maggie and Winston’s relationship this episode when he invites her to a virtual Birthday dinner for his beloved Grandmother which is then crashed by his estranged father. 

His Grandmother invited him and within five seconds of being on the call he insults Winston and says that the idea that his son who is a Cardiothoracic Surgeon at Tufts is a genius is laughable because apparently he failed sixth grade. This man is an asshole and I can see why Winston hates him. That being said Winston exiting the call and leaving Maggie hanging there with his Grandmother, father, and some other relatives that she’s never met was not okay.

It was extremely rude. He should have told Maggie he had to go before signing off or said that they should both leave the call. Maggie is a class act for staying on that call and asking his upset Grandmother if there was cake. Side note: I did love Maggie and Winston’s conversation about what pencil nerds they both are! This is a match made in heaven so whatever issues they do have they’ll work through them because this is clearly meant to be.

My only real complaint about this episode was the absence of one Cormac Hayes. As my best friend said after we finished watching, “Did you notice who wasn’t in this episode? McWidow. Where the hell was McWidow?” I concur with this sentiment 100%. Hayes makes everything better and I’m sad when he’s not there. I get that Meredith was on the beach with George this episode and that was the focus on her storyline, but it would have been nice to see Hayes stand outside her window or sit next to her or talk to Jo about her condition.

That’s the other thing. Season 16 established that Jo and Hayes are friends and that she’s rooting for him and Meredith to be together and live happily ever after. So I’m surprised that they haven’t had a scene yet this season. We’ve seen Jo interact with Link who she’s close friends with and Levi who’s her roommate, but not Hayes. I’m hoping we’ll get that next episode. So far the majority of Hayes’ scenes have been with Meredith, followed by Jo, followed by Bailey. 

If Hayes can’t interact with Meredith like he normally would because she’s unconscious I want to see him interact with Jo, Bailey, Maggie, and Richard more. The fact that we’re seeing intimate scenes with Jo and Jackson gives me hope that we’ll get to see those kinds of scenes for Meredith and Hayes. Although it’s entirely possible that those scenes were filmed last season before the pandemic hit so maybe not. 

I also like that we got some important timeline information this episode. Jo mentions murder hornets (remember those?) which puts this episode at the beginning of May. She also says that her and Alex divorced the same year they got married which means that Seasons 14 and 15 span the same year. Which makes sense given the other information that we have and means that the relationship we saw in Season 15 only lasted a matter of months. 

Which is good news in the sense that nobody really liked any of the ships from that season apart from Tom and Teddy and Amelia and Link and this establishes that all of those relationships were short lived and occurred over a matter of months, not a full year or more. Based on what I caught of next week’s promo it looks like Meredith’s condition is improving (!) while Tom’s condition is deteriorating, and Bailey’s Mom is in bad shape and is being admitted! COVID is no joke! Buckle up everyone!

Until next time!

[dailyaudiobiblechronological]

2/26/2022 DAB Chronological Transcription

Numbers 7

Welcome to Daily Audio Bible Chronological. I'm Jill. Today's the 26th day of February. It's so great to have you here with me. It's my joy and my honor, my distinct pleasure to be here reading the Word of God for us. And we do it every day, either China, my daughter, or myself. We switch off week to week, back and forth. But one of us reads the Word every day so that we can get through the entire Bible in chronological order. And we will do that together over the course of this year. If you are new, welcome. If you are not new, welcome. Either way, we are so glad that you're here and that you have decided to be in the Word. And I hope with that you have decided to allow the Word of God to transform me from the inside out in any way that God chooses to do. So today we are reading the Book of Numbers and it just stands alone. Today, the Book of Numbers, chapter seven. And today is the final day that we will be in the Christian Standard Bible. Of course, China will be back with you tomorrow and you'll change translations with a brand new shiny week. As my husband Brian says, new week ahead of you. But for now, numbers, chapter seven.

Prayer:

Father, we thank you for Your word today. We thank you for this week, and I pray that we can look back and we can see you in the details of our lives. I pray that we can know Your goodness despite our circumstance and that we can live in the truth, that you are for us and never against us. You are with us and never leave us nor forsake us or leave us alone. And I pray that if we are not there yet, there are some that just don't know your goodness yet. They're still in the questioning, they're still in the waiting. And some are unraveling what they have been taught about you to embrace knowing you. But what I know to be true is that you will undoubtedly reveal yourself to them in a very special way as we are all created so uniquely, so special, so intricately. And I pray that you would give us eyes to see and ears to hear Your voice, your hand moving upon us. And we thank you for your love this day. I ask that you help us to leave what we cannot do from last week. We leave it undone and we place it in your hands and we look forward. We look forward and ahead and onward into the newness of new life, redemption, new mercies, sufficient grace and indescribable love. We thank you for a brand new week ahead tomorrow. And I pray every person would walk in the fullness of life more abundantly and that we would love and embrace our neighbor as ourselves. We would just begin there. We trust you for it and we thank you for it. We pray this now in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, Amen.

Announcements:

It's been a joy to be here with you this week. We'll turn the page. Tomorrow you will turn the page. I'll turn the page. I'll just turn it somewhere else. China will take over and be with you next week. I leave you in the very capable and beautiful hands of my daughter, China. And I will be back with you in a week. I truly love you all and I hope you have a great week together in God's word. Until then, love one another.

Community Prayer Line:

Hello, DABC family. This is Mark from the United Kingdom. I'm just contacting you with regards to families whose boys are in prison and the mothers that have phoned in over the last few weeks. I know what it's like to have a boy in prison. And I know the feeling the families are going through at the moment. I know the loneliness, the difficulties, the uncertainties. My son was in prison and it's like a lamp surrounded by walls because as people you're suddenly in a different environment that you've never come across before, especially if you're a Christian family. But I'd like to give you hope because when my son was in prison, we prayed. And the good Lord sent the Holy Spirit not only to protect him, but also to inspire him, to inspire him to write Christian poetry. And I'd just like to leave you with this poem that he wrote in the six by eight cell. It's called The Lamb of God. He who arose from the dead. The man who broke the wine and bread, his gentle hands abait the seas and drive the demons out with ease. To all men he shall turn his cheek who confess sin and see they’re weak. All thy pain he shall take away for those who seek his name and pray. All who keep faith in trial and strife he shall bestow the crown of life. For those forgiven through his grace he has prepared a Holy place- A golden city up above filled with never ending love. Therefore watch for the day draws near when God wipes away every tear. How I long for such time hence so I can glimpse such countenance the Lamb of God to be with thee who gave his last at Calvary. Thank you.

This is Brady from Northern Virginia. I'm appreciative of this family of God that trusts, loves, praise, worships everything to the glory of God. Thank you China and Jill for reading and providing your thoughts. It's such a great opportunity to learn more about our Lord and I enjoy the prayer times afterwards. Hi, I'm Anita from South Carolina. I've called in a couple of times before and I'm just feeling very discouraged. My relationship with my youngest children is just- I feel like it's never gonna happen. And I just feel like the longer they're away from me, the less I'll ever see them again. And right now I just feel very heartbroken and I'm trying to get out of that and I'm trying to trust that God knows what he's doing and that one day there may be forgiveness, but one day there may not be forgiveness and I need to be okay with that. And I just don't know how. I'm trying to leave it to God and I don't know how to do that either. So if you all the community would please pray for me and pray with me. I'm just, I'm almost at a point of giving up and I know that my children are older. I've missed out on their junior and senior year of high school. She's getting ready to go into the 11th grade. And my oldest daughter all of her high school years. And I don't know, maybe I'm feeling sorry for myself, but I just ask for prayers. Thank you. Again, this is Anita in South Carolina.

[thearkhound]

Why are Konami’s MSX games fun? Interview from Beep #35 (1987/09)

We Asked Konami’s Development Division

Text by TAKE ON!

Photographs by: Keita Iwagami

While there are many gaming software for the MSX, there’s something special about Konami’s MSX titles that makes them stand out. Rather than just doing simple ports from other platforms, their titles have a unique charm to them that titles from other developers might lack. To find out how they do it, we tried asking Konami directly.

Just as Expected

“Hey, I knew it! It’s just like I predicted.” As I saw the results of this issue’s survey, I raised my voiced and shouted “Did you see this? Konami was voted the number 1 software maker for the MSX!” However, my voice was simply absorbed by the editing room, with no even a simple “yes” or “I see”-type of response. While I was happy that my favorite company Konami took the no. 1 spot, the editors around me didn’t seem very impressed by that. Perhaps they were exhausted by all the hard work they were doing everyday.

“Why are you guys not impressed? Maybe Konami being No. 1 was too predictable, but it’s still outstanding. Perhaps our readers might want to find out why their games are so interesting. I think such an article will probably be invaluable for this issue’s special MSX coverage...” After trying to argue with the editors in a way that made no sense, I went to Konami’s branch office at Tokyo to interview them.

Overwhelmed by the Company’s Policy

“Uhh, my name is Take On, I’m a writer for Beep magazine.” Like a country bumpkin, I went there without a business card stating who I was, so I had to spent time explaining myself away to the receptionist. After somehow managing to explain who I was and why I came there, Ms. [Akemi] Kamio, Konami’s spokeswoman, led me to what seems to be the reception room.

Before I knew it, I was sitting absent-mindedly at the reception room. “Where am I? Who am I? Ah! Ms. Kamio is such a beauty, that I almost lost my memory. I’m not so used to that. By the way, what was I going to talk about...”

While desperately trying to remember what kind of questions I had in mind, I noticed there was some kind of writing on the wall.

Company’s Policy:

Brilliance Begins With People

Cosmic Pondering

Earnest Action

Release the Fountain of Sensitivity

And Continue Sending Waves of Creativity

Into The Future

Huh. It has a very creative feeling to it, but I have no idea what it means by just reading it. What sort of company policy or philosophy was this? And what the heck was a “cosmic pondering”?

While I was thinking about this, Ms. Kamio guided me, or rather lured me to the “great developer”, so I automatically switched to interview mode. But I still didn’t know what was going to be my first question, so I ended up fumbling a bit.

Cosmic Pondering

Take On!: Uh-hello! I came here today to ask about the MSX and its “cosmic pondering”?

Akihiko Nagata: Uh, pardon me!?

T: (Crap! I fumbled my way so suddenly. Come to think of it, I did brought a notepad with me with the questions I had in mind. How silly of me.) Sorry about that! What I meant to say was that I came here to ask about why Konami’s MSX games are so popular. I would be glad if you could start by talking about Konami’s development department no. 1, the group you belong to.

Nagata: Our company’s development team is divided by three sections: Arcade, Famicom and PC. As you see, my department focuses on PC gaming development, even though most of our games are for the MSX. The company’s plan of action is to have the three sections assembled to work on the same level.

T: Does that mean that titles such as Ganbare Goemon and Akumajo Dracula [Vampire Killer], which were ported from Famicom games, have their own staffs for the MSX versions?

Nagata: That’s right. When it comes to porting a game from one platform to another, other companies tend to have the same team involved with the port. We could do that too, since it’s very efficient, but our company has a structure which allows the MSX team to independently research and develop its own ports. As a result, we hardly release any port that is just the same game with a few minor changes. In other words, because we feel the class of users for the Famicom and MSX, as well as the market, are different, we’re doing a full-time service for each, In that sense, each software is basically its own original product.

The Inside Story of the Gradius Development

T: (I see. With such a logic, you won’t have an identical product.) Speaking of which, the MSX version of Gradius [Nemesis] was very different compared to the arcade and Famicom versions when it came to aspects like the difficulty level and the additional stages.

Nagata: That’s right. When I saw the development of the Famicom version of Gradius I felt a sense of “I really want to do this”. When it comes to developing a port, we set milestones with the condition that “if we can’t complete this, then we must cancel the development.” In the case of Gradius, making the laser long was such a condition, so the first thing we ended up doing was the programming for the laser itself. If we could accomplish that, then we can surely port the game.

T: (He really knows how players feel.) That’s why I was glad when it had new area and the hidden extra stages.

Nagata: Originally we were set to develop the game on a 32 kilobyte cartridge, but that was not sufficient to fit everything we wanted, so it was increased to 1-Megabit. Because there weren’t that many Megarom cartridges back then, we worked hard to make the best of it. We ended up with excess space, so we added a new regular stage to make use of it, but that was still not enough content to fill the extra space, so we added the hidden extra stages, as well as title screen that took 8-kilobyte.

T: (I see. But still, doing your best to make full use of the game’s given memory is pretty amazing.) I had the chance to play Gradius 2 [Nemesis 2] a while ago. It’s a superb game with all new stages and inclusion of a sound source that seems like it was developed specifically for the Megarom cartridge format. Particularly with its opening story sequence that made me teary-eyed.

Nagata: That story was something that its lead designer was particularly fixated with. (laughs) The original arcade version of Gradius didn’t have much of a story other than “the Bacterions are coming, deploy the Vic Viper”, but that wasn’t enough for the manual, so we had to go back and write a new story.

T: And then Gradius 2 added a sound source to the software.

Nagata: The music is all new and composed by the same person who did the music for the original arcade version of Gradius. This time we were able to employ audio waveforms in addition to the standard 3 PSG channels. All in all, you could say it has 8 ports or 8 chords. Simple calculations are also increased by 2.8 times. The programming is already like a puzzle. As for the music itself, you might not be able to tell the difference when compared to a recent game, but when compared to the first Gradius, you’ll see that the sound itself was considerably improved.

A Gathering of Little Ideas

T: Lately Gradius 2 has served as the centerpiece of the MSX1, but where does that leave Metal Gear in regards to the MSX2? I was very impressed by the innovative direction it took.

Nagata: I’m glad that the game was well-received by your staff. (laughs) I was concerned whether or not the game would be well-received by players or not. But it seems like we’re off to a good start. The world of Metal Gear was also something that its designer was particularly fixated with. When it comes to directing, or rather structuring a game, there are ways to create it after deciding on its main ideas, but sometimes it’s better to mix up a lot of little ideas like a crossword. You’ll know the game’s overall balance when it’s finished.

T: That’s why all Konami games have subtle little touches or shine with their presentation. Are there any particular problems when it comes to developing an MSX game?

Nagata: Sincerely, while the world of graphics have expanded since the introduction of the MSX2, it is very difficult in terms of processing. The MSX was designed to be used on a home television set [as opposed to a computer monitor], so even if you make the graphics more detailed, it still won’t look very pretty on a TV screen.

And then there’s the scrolling. If you’ve seen TwinBee or Hinotori, you’ll understand. The machine is capable of vertical-scrolling, but not horizontal. That’s why you won’t see anything like points on-screen.

The LSI concept for the MSX’s image processing was designed with scalability in mind, but it wasn’t compatible with the kind of LSI employed by the Famicom, so that gave us a lot of problem.

T: You done a great job! Finally, I would be glad if you could tell us what’s Konami’s outlook for the future of the MSX.

Nagata: We’ve been allowed to make a living off the MSX, so we’ll continue to do our best when it comes to both, the MSX1 and MSX2.

When it comes to genre, our company has been basically making only action games up to this point, but we plan on adding more cerebral and adventure elements to future titles. The way users are viewing games are changing, so we want to grow while gradually attracting their needs.

Our MSX games have changed a lot content-wise since we started making them, but I don’t think they would changed that much in such a short time if we were doing only MSX games. There’s a sense of rivalry among Famicom and other PC users. We’re also going to do our best to compete with the arcade and Famicom sections anyway we can, so please continue to support us.

T: As an MSX user myself, I’m looking forward to Konami’s future games for the platform. I know it’s a lot of work, especially when it comes to the MSX1, but for the one million users out there please keep up the good work. Thank you for your time.

I was worried about what was going to happen at one point, but the interviewed ended in a hour without a hitch. If I get the opportunity, next time I’ll ask about what exactly a “cosmic pondering” is. Until then, see you again in “my own forum!” (Editor’s note: “Hey! Don’t advertise your own serial!”

Source

Beep Vol. 3 No. 9 - September 1987 issue (Softbank Publishing)

[deadinsidedressage]

Boarding Update: New Digs & Lessons Learned 

Well, November to early December was an interesting time for Mitzy and I. 

Out of the blue one night during the beginning of Nov, my (now former) BO came up to me and told me I needed to find new boarding for my horse. That was a massive shock to me as my understanding of how our time there had been going didn’t give any indication we had anything remotely close to an issue. I’d not personally had any issues handling my horse and hadn’t heard of anything from the BO about her or her husband having a contrary experience. I had also explicitly written into my boarding contract that I wanted to be told of any difficulties in handling her so that I could address those in my training sessions with her. I had asked on countless occasions “Oh, how has Mitzy been for you guys?” and been told resoundingly how great she was.  /dnr

To then be told my horse was no longer welcome and that she’d reportedly been dangerous to handle was a huge slap to the face. I could hardly form a coherent thought at the time but did ask “How long has this been going on and why wasn’t I told earlier?”. Well I get a “We don’t tell boarders every little thing that their horse does” as a response before she launches into how apparently my horse was also destroying fences. I’m out there nearly daily, at least 6 days a week, and had never seen the fences in a state of disrepair. Maybe the chicken wire was bowed out a little, but that’s about it. Again, I ask how long has this been happening and why wasn’t I told. Allegedly “the whole time” and she’s tired of “fixing things my horse breaks”. If my horse was dangerous, I should be told immediately. Considering I’ve not had any issues leading my horse or handling my horse I’m not sure what I would’ve done to “fix” the behavior but I would’ve done something. Even if that something was only offering myself to personally do turnout for her. If my horse is damaging fences to such an extent, I should be told. I would’ve been happy to pay for fence repairs & offer my labor as well. 

The more information I try to get the more the picture is coming together of my horse not being the issue (thank God). “Well you know how difficult she is to halter”--- no, my horse self-halters. “You know how she can be”--- no, I know my horse to be extremely easy to handle on the ground for a 2 year old. “Well since Fendi freaks out, she’s been galloping around, rearing, and bucking when it’s time to go in for dinner and she reared up on my husband when he tried to halter her today since I grab Fendi so he can get Mitzy and bring her in at the same time”--- your not a horse person husband is who has to go and get a 2 year old who is amped up by another frantic horse? After you’ve assured me that you or the girl in your employ would be the people to handle my horse since I was concerned about that? That seemed like a sound idea in your head?

I can’t discount the fact that all it takes for a situation to be unsafe is for the handler to feel it’s unsafe. If they’ve decided my horse is dangerous for them to handle then it doesn’t matter how she handles for myself, my friends, or experienced horse people. She’s dangerous for them. She self-halters if you stand at her side, but sure she’ll freak out if you come head on. She’s extremely easy to handle, but if she spooks it’s big and you need to not get scared of that. Or if she’s being feisty you just need to be confident in shutting it down and know how to handle a hot horse. She’s a 2 year old decently hot WB who recently shot up in size, it doesn’t matter how comparably easy she is to other 2 year old WBs if you’ve never handled one before. 

So, knowing I couldn’t necessarily get her out immediately I offered a few solutions. A) Keep her stalled 24/7 until she moves or B) I can take her out in the morning and bring her in at night. “Keeping her in won’t fix her attitude.” Oh... so there’s the rub. There’s a fundamental misunderstanding in how we view horses and handling them. It’s not just unsafe for you to handle my horse because she’s big and you’re unfamiliar with hotter types, you believe in dominance theory and will hurt yourselves thinking you can be more stubborn than a 1200lb horse. Well, I can bring her in and out then. “She’s only a problem in the evenings.” Okay... well I will have her back in her stall everyday by this time. “I mean if you’re there that’s fine, but we can take her in.” ...Is this a horse you’ve labeled dangerous or is it not? Are you not kicking us out because you don’t think she’s safe to handle or not? 

Well... luckily I secure new boarding pretty quickly but unfortunately it takes 3 weeks to move her. Not because that’s when the stall was open but because I’ve never had the opportunity to trailer train my horse. Takes three weekends of trying to get her in a trailer, hiring a shipper so we can get a bigger trailer, some dorm gel to take the edge off, and a literal crew of people to essentially walk her in a foot at a time. In the meantime, before the stars aligned and she finally went in a trailer, I am bringing my horse in before dinner and dealing with increasingly hostile behavior from my (now former) BO and some of the other boarders! 

The whole situation has been absolutely bonkers to me because when I shipped her up to this facility I was under the impression that the BO was confident handling young horses. For the longest time everyone would love on her whenever they saw her, always calling her “the baby”, and the BO’s husband in particular would “smuggle” treats to her throughout the day (encouraged by me honestly). Retroactively, I can now see that at the point my horse sprouted up about a hand and had gained a deal more fitness from all her in-hand work... suddenly she was avoided like the plague. I also don’t understand why at no point was I told they had concerns handling my horse, especially around dinner time. I would not cared if my horse came in an hour early everyday so that they didn’t have to compete with the other horse that’s problematic to bring in. Which personally would’ve been the solution that was apparent to me as someone who has worked at a few barns. I also don’t understand how the horse who is a little too hyped up being brought in at dinner is somehow a worse horse to board than the _other _horse who gets crazy at dinner but also needs to be hobbled every single night so she can be stalled (otherwise she does her best to literally bring the walls down). If you’ve found a solution for that horse’s issues (bringing her in first & then hobbling her) then why is there no solution for my horse? 

Had I know my horse was being handled by the BO’s husband at a point where her behavior is likely to be less than predictable I wouldn’t have been okay with it. I would’ve volunteered myself to bring her in if it wasn’t possible to simply have them bring her in early. I’d already repeatedly asked to know when the BO was gone at a show so I could bring my horse in from turnout because I did not trust a non-horse person with my 2 year old. No matter how well behaved I think she is, she needs someone who knows horses. 

As far as issues with other boarders, they certainly was a contingency of people who seemed to purposefully slam the crossties into the wall when I was in the arena because it would spook my horse. Or similarly see that something was spooking my horse, make eye contact with me, and keep doing it. One woman very plainly made anything she did take about 3 times longer and be 10 times louder than normal if I was trying to work my horse. Notably suddenly choosing to pick out her horse’s paddock (the barn doesn’t do that and I was the only person who they’d ever had who’d asked if they could do that) while I was having some success loading & making such a ruckus that we lost all progress we’d been making. Was it everyone at the barn? No, but there were a few people being very pointed in their behavior and I think it legitimately came down to ye olde Western vs. English superiority complex. Since clearly I should be punished for my 2 year old not being dead quiet like all the semi-retired Quarter Horses. 

I think honestly, that’s the entire problem of why we ran into this. This was never a boarding facility I intended to work long-term, I wanted to move Mitzy in the Spring to the barn she’s at now... but I think it ended prematurely comes down to the discipline clash. I think the BO, her family, and the boarders who are her personal friends just have extremely different expectations for how a 2 year old should behave than what I do and what the people I work for do. It’s still standard for AQHA/APHA/AHC to not only have horses under saddle at 2, but to be in a pretty rigorous show schedule (futurities require horses to be started at 18mo). A lot of people think TBs/QHs/QH types mature “faster” than other breeds. The way I’ve learned to regard young horses and the industry standard I accept for starting young horses doesn’t view 2 year olds as adults. Nor are 3 year olds treated to the same stanard as say an 8 year old. Do I absolutely expect basic ground manners and developing in-hand skills? Yes, but I also anticipate 2-4 year olds to be unpredictable! So I’m never surprised when they try to jump out of their skin when a leaf falls too close to them. 

I am trying to see this as a learning experience and I think what I’ve learned from this is you really, really need to be compatible in your approach to expectations and handling as your boarding facility (no matter how temporary you plan for that situation to be). There are a lot of glaring issues with the magic of hindsight that point to this being an inevitable conclusion. I am really glad with where she’s at now! She’s at a dressage training/lesson barn that she’ll go into the program there once she starts under saddle. For now I’m just happy to be at a place where I can relax and enjoy my horse again--- plus I can take lessons at

[starlightsearches]

A New Life Pt. 2

I liked the Kylo Ren soulmate AU so much and I got so much love on it that I decided to write a second part! I hope you guys like it! (Here’s the first part if you missed it)

Requests are still open ✨

Kylo Ren X female reader soulmate! AU Pt. 2 

AN: Mentions sex. 

It’s only been a few days since you’ve boarded the Finalizer, but you’ve certainly made yourself at home. So far, Ren has provided you many items that you requested, including an impressive collection of art supplies, a veritable rainbow of a wardrobe, and most eclectically, a maintenance jumpsuit, which you’re wearing right now, the top half tied around your waist over a sleeveless white shirt. 

It had been sweet, and strange to him at the time, when you asked for it, walking through the hangar as Ren took you on a tour of the ship. You had been wide-eyed, admiring the sleek, black organization of the Order, so different from the simple and slow life you had known. You watched the workers at their duties, and a few radar technicians had scurried by, trying to avoid Ren’s attention while still getting a good look at you; the ship was full of talk about his new “guest,” but that had been the first time you’d left his room, and everyone wanted to see.

“What are they wearing?” You had been asking questions non-stop, and Ren tried to answer as many as he could to the best of his abilities. He liked to watch as you listened, processing the information with the slightest of scowls while you internalized it.

“Jumpsuits,” he was grateful it was a question he could answer easily; the more difficult the question was to answer, the more focused you looked, and the more distracted he became by the shape of your brow and the set of your eyes, “standard issue.” Your gaze had followed behind the techs, the look becoming familiar to Ren already. He liked that he was learning to read you without using the force, that your subtle gestures were becoming windows for him to peek through even when no one else could.

“Could I have one?” You had asked, still so polite, despite the fact that he had never said no to one of your requests before. That didn’t mean he wasn’t confused.

“Why?” Compared to the other clothes you had requested, the jumpsuit was plain, and the green-gray color incredibly ugly. You had looked at him, lashes framing your pleading eyes, the corners of your mouth turned up into the slightest of smiles.

“Please?” That was all it took. Ren would give you anything you wanted. Asking something of you, though, was not something he felt prepared for.

“They want us to do what?” you say, sitting curled up on the couch with your sketchbook on your lap. Ren sits across from you, very careful not to move. You had already scolded him a few times for fidgeting too much, and he doesn’t want to ruin your drawing.

“Um, a wedding?” Ren says. He wasn’t sure how to explain, had been putting it off for the last few days, but the longer he waited, the more impatient the general became.

“But why?” You laugh when you say it, and Ren adds your laugh to the mental list he’s compiling of his favorite things about you. “Aren’t weddings between soulmates kind of, I don’t know, silly?”

“Well, actually,” he clears his throat, and you go back to sketching, staring at him for a moment before adding another line on the flimsi and blending it out with your finger, “no one really knows-” he swallows before continuing, “that we’re soulmates.” You pause in your drawing. 

“Why not?” You look up, confused, and then disappointed, leaking sadness out of the corners of your mouth, and it reminds Ren why he didn’t want to have this conversation in the first place.

“The First Order frowns upon connections that could put the organization at risk. Soulmates are seen as a hazard.” You nod solemnly, dropping the sketchbook into your lap and looking pensive. “Some people know, obviously, but it was decided that it would be better if we kept the true nature of our relationship secret.” He watches closely, taking in your microexpressions with a careful eye. You hum through your lips, deep in thought, and Ren waits anxiously to know what you’ll say next.

“So what will everyone else be told?” 

“We’ll keep the details private. Our marriage will be seen as a political alliance . . . would that be alright with you?”

“Of course,” you say, after a short pause, “it doesn’t really matter to me, whether there’s a wedding or not.” Ren relaxes, and you start another sketch, slower this time, more detailed.

“You never wanted a wedding?” he asks, watching your hand glide across the flimsi; your hands go on the list as well.

“I don’t think there’s been a wedding in my village . . . ever.” You look up into the distance, trying to remember. “When you live somewhere as remote as I did, most people meet their soulmates at a very young age. By the time they’re old enough for something like a wedding, they’ve usually been bonded for years. The additional ceremony is pointless.”

“What about people without soulmates?” Ren wonders out loud. It’s pretty common for people in the Order to marry without finding a soulmate, for political alliances or companionship, but your life is so different from his. Despite the difference, it’s easy for him to talk to you. He never feels like you’re judging him. Being around you is like being someone else and himself wrapped up into a person who makes sense.

“They stay in the village, help raise the children and take care of the cattle and whatever else is needed. We support them when they are too old to work. In a way, we become their soulmates when we care for them.” You smile fondly at the memories, and he watches the faces of old friends flash by in your head.

“Seems sad.”

“Not forever,” you say, and then pause before adding, ���I thought I was one of them. The sadness doesn’t last.” You set your drawings to the side and stand from the couch, stretching for a moment.

“Are you glad,” he asks, even though it scares him to hear your answer, “that you’re not . . .  one of them?” You go to him, sitting at his side and curling yourself up next to him. The couch is already too small for him alone, but he can’t be uncomfortable when you show him affection like this.

“Yes,” you smile, and he places one hand in your hair, always trying to gauge the invisible boundary between not enough and too much. Will he ever be too much for you? The thought haunts him.

“What about after the wedding?” You ask quietly, your face buried in the fabric of his shirt.

“What do you mean?”

“Isn’t it traditional for the couple to . . . go somewhere? Like, a honeymoon?” Oh. Ren’s heart races, he’s suddenly highly aware that he can feel you everywhere on him, the press of your body against his a little terrifying now. All your contact up until this point had been initiated by you, never more than an innocent resting of your head on his shoulder when you sleep or the brush of your fingers against his arm when you’re walking side by side down the corridor. He hadn’t wanted to pressure you, to make you uncomfortable, but it was difficult to maintain control, his eyes always managing to catch the gleam of a zipper at the back of your dress, or the shape of your hips underneath the fabric of your jumpsuit. And now you're inviting more, and it frightens him how much he wants it.

“I- I don’t think I could leave,” he says with some difficulty, purposely avoiding the true nature of your question, “I need to stay on the ship.”

“That’s a shame,” you reply. You’re looking at him now, your chin resting on his sternum, and your eyes examine him mischievously; you recognize the effect that you’re having on him, and you like it. It calms him a little, knowing how easily you accept him as he is. “I guess we’ll have to have a honeymoon here.” You roll off of the couch without warning, and run your fingers down the length of his arm. The gesture makes him shiver, and he can’t look at you when he feels this way.

“I’ll tell the general to schedule the wedding as soon as possible,” Ren says, focusing all his energy on keeping his voice steady. You bend down to eye level where he lies, and place a lingering kiss on his temple before whispering in his ear.

“I can’t wait.”

[somedayonbroadway]

Have you ever done oe thought about a Bandstand AU? Because I'm now obsessed.

Okay, so I was obsessed with Bandstand for a good six months after they performed at the Tonys. Kid you not, it was the only thing I listened to. For six months straight. And it still hasn’t gotten old.

Quick rant:

Corey Cott deserves a Tony.

Laura Osnes deserves a Tony.

The show deserved to at least be nominated for best musical, if not win the whole thing.

Dear Evan Hansen is great.

But it is nothing compared to Bandstand.

(Also, DEH won best orchestrations against Great Comet… like… what? Did the judges even see that show? DEH had like… a violin, a piano and a couple guitars. It hardly had orchestrations. Great Comet is a ****ing masterpiece of complex, insane music.)

End rant.

Anyways.

Bandstand AU

Characters

Jack Kelly — Donny Novitski (Piano)

Katherine Plumber — Julia Trojan (Singer)

David Jacobs — Wayne Wright (trombone)

Spot Conlon — Davy Zlatic (bass)

Racetrack Higgins — Jimmy Campbell (saxophone)

Crutchie Morris — Johny Simpson (drums)

Albert DaSilva — Nick Radel (trumpet)

Joseph Pulitzer — June Adams

Medda Larkin — Oliver

Bryan Denton — Jo

Specs — Michael “Rubber” Trojan

Okay, so…

Newly back home, Jack Kelly is having difficulty adjusting to life after the war. After losing his best friend from friendly fire, he’s guilt ridden. The minute Jack gets home, he’s bombarded with propaganda that everything would go back to the way it was before. He doesn’t believe that as he is now jobless, is struggling for money, is struggling hard with insomnia and PTSD.

As a composer, vocalist, accordion player and pianist, Jack begins to go to old clubs he used to perform at, only to find he’d been easily replaced. Finding an old friend, Medda, for whom he’d worked with before, he manages to secure gigs at weddings, getting slim money, just enough to eat and pay rent.

After a few weeks, he finds himself slowly losing it. He hears stories of soldiers’ funerals. Those guys came back fine a while ago.

They needed a way to make it stop.

Jack is on the verge of a breakdown. He can’t go a night without a drink. He can’t stop thinking about the war. About Specs.

He can’t get it out of his head.

He’s a genius and he knows it. He’s been musically inclined his whole life. He started playing when he was seven and he started composing when he was nine. And here he is, fifteen years later, still playing weddings. No one’s giving him a job. No one seems to care that he’s struggling or needs to play because if he can’t play, there’s nothing left for him.

But he hears about a contest on the radio. A contest for a swing band to compete in a contest as a tribute to the troops just back from the war.

In a moment of clarity, Jack decides that he’s going to put together a band made up of his fellow vets to shoot for fame and fortune, to show the vets that made it home that there’s hope for them.

So he takes a name that he remembers his best friend mentioned at one time, and he goes out to find a man about to play a gig at a club named Antonio Higgins who Specs had used to call Racer. Racer is a sax player, now studying to be a lawyer. While Race does try to send him away, he realizes that he might need this as much as Jack did and once he finds out that Specs is dead, he can’t say no. He’s doing this for Specs.

Race leads him to find more musicians who served. Spot, David, Crutchie and Albert.

Race doesn’t trust anyone.

Spot is an alcoholic, cracking jokes to get through the day as best he can.

David is OCD. He has clear schedules and plans out every minute of his day.

Albert is a control freak. He’s constantly irritated and just wants everything to be done the right way and for things to work out.

Crutchie lost a leg in the war as well as receiving brain damage in an accident that sent his vehicle flipping three times while he was in the war

Not all of them get along at first. But, for the sack of all of the vets that are losing hope in a post war world where there’s no place for them, they keep it together.

They get through their first gig together. All is well for about two minutes as Race tells Jack he’s glad he decided to play with him and Spot jokes around with Crutchie after Crutchie tells the guys about his meds and how they slow him down, asking him how much slower he can get without being put in reverse. Crutchie is very slow and goofy most of the time, unable to truly remember the events that occurred overseas, but he is a monster on drums. He doesn’t mind the jokes, in fact, he takes a liking to Spot.

It’s after this that Jack tells Albert he needs to come down off the ceiling while playing his solo, claiming that it’s selfish and out of line. Albert argues with him, sparking a bit of tension between the rest of the group. Albert then announced he has a chance to play with Dwight Anson Orchestra. Davey explains that Jack needs to work around his schedule. Albert says that they need to get paid.

Jack shoots back that the gigs they get are where and when they are going to play and he promises to try and give more of an advance in the future.

Once the others leave, Spot with Crutchie, trying to joke with him as he’s taken a liking to the youngest kid of the group, Race approaches Jack and tries to gently explain to him that he needs to learn how to talk to people if he’s gonna be a band leader. This sparks a small argument, almost leading to Race giving up and leaving, only resulting in Jack admitting that he has to do this for Specs.

He explains that Specs’s death was friendly fire and that he’d promised Specs should anything happen to him, he’d check in on his wife. Race advises Jack not to tell Specs’s wife how he died and tells him not to go to trial unless he was prepared to lose. Then he leaves, promising to see Jack for their next gig on Sunday.

So Jack goes to talk to Specs’s wife.

Katherine Plumber.

He knocks on the door before chickening out and turning to leave.

But he’s not quite fast enough.

Katherine laughs at him, accusing him of being too old for ding dong ditch. Jack laughs and shyly walks back, introducing himself as Spencer’s friend. Katherine’s smile fades and she asks him more questions, resulting in Jack telling her he has some pictures that might be of interest to her. Katherine invites him over for dinner.

Explaining to her father the situation, Joseph Pulitzer (yes, he’s very nice in this one. Deal with it.) he agrees to the dinner, telling Katherine that they won’t be great hosts. He tells Katherine to be careful and not to pry, that if Jack wants to tell her more information about Specs, he would.

So Katherine tries to respect the boundaries.

Katherine explains to her father that she feels selfish because sometimes she wishes she could be the same person she was before and that she doesn’t want to be defined as a Gold Star Wife. She used to have a life and she used to be somebody.

She pulls herself together when the knock on the door comes.

Joe welcomes Jack inside and Jack thanks him for his kindness while Katherine jokes that he works hard at being nice and explains that her mother is away visiting her grandparents.

While getting to know each other a little, Jack learns that Katherine can sing but she only sings a church and jokes that if he wanted to hear her sing, he’d have to go to a service. Katherine learns that Jack lost his parents when he was very young and has fended for himself ever since.

Eventually, they get around to looking at the pictures Jack brought. He tries to make the memories light.

But Katherine can’t help but ask if Jack was there when he’d died.

Jack tells her yes.

And Katherine can’t take it. So she excuses herself before dinner has even begun, leaving Jack and Joe to have dinner alone.

That Sunday, Jack finds himself at church, watching Katherine sing beautifully in front of an entire gathering of people.

He catches her afterwards, asking why she didn’t tell him that she got to perform the big finale. He then asks her if she’d like to see him and his band play that night, eventually convincing her that it might be fun.

Joe encourages her to go, telling her that she hasn’t been out since her husband had died. So she goes.

After watching their set, Katherine is surprised to be invited up onstage to sing a standard. She’s incredibly nervous, forgetting the bridge of the song but finishing strong with some encouragement from Jack. She meets the boys. She takes a liking to all of them, telling Davey that his family should be proud, joking along with Spot, immediately wanting to protect Crutchie, much like Spot does.

Jack tells them that he wants to win for the guys who got nothing.

Katherine asks him if he means Specs. And he tries to take it back but she runs off, upset. And Racer tells the guys that she has every right to be a part of this band as she lost her husband in the war. The guys tell Jack that he should try to get Katherine to sing with them.

So he goes to her work the next day. She tries to send him away, claiming she doesn’t need to be saved. Jack counters. “What if I do?” And then he sings her First Steps First before inviting her to rehearsal that night walking away. Katherine tells him on his way out that she’ll be there, on the condition that Jack tells her more about Specs.

At rehearsal, things are a little tense. Katherine quickly finds that Race tries his best to stay out of confrontation, David is constantly questioning Jack’s harmonies and chord progressions, Spot is always drunk, Crutchie is often confused, and Albert is hard to rely on. Katherine loosens up the tension as much as she can, learning the music and getting to know all the boys. She loves talking to Crutchie. She constantly takes Spot’s drinks from his hands and offers him coffee and water. She tries to get Race to open up and Davey to loosen up, while also somehow getting on Albert’s good side.

She finds that once they’re all playing together, things seem a little easier, like they all get along and work well together.

They play at a club in town called Medda’s, playing a song Jack hopes to be a winning song called “You Deserve It”. It’s snappy and catchy and all the boys really enjoy it. After this, Medda asks the band to play the next night and Jack and Kath celebrate with drinks.

Jack then asks Katherine if she’d be willing to take on a stage name, Kathy Pulitzer, saying it had a better ring to it than Katherine Plumber. Katherine doesn’t like this and leaves, unable to handle the idea of losing another part of Specs.

Jack follows her, apologizing after Katherine breaks, crying about how she’ll never see her husband’s body or get to say goodbye.

Jack promises to give her answers if she comes back to the band. So they go tell the guys they have another gig.

The next night, after escorting a very drunk Spot home, Jack expresses his worries that Spot will be wasted on the night of the competition to which Albert replies he has bigger problems and reveals he’d been rehearsing with Dwight Anson and thinks they might have a better song. He leaves, telling Jack he’d be playing with the band that had the better song.

Jack walks Katherine home, angry and scared and exhausted knowing he can’t sleep. He tells Katherine that if it were Specs, he’d be saying how they’d be winning this thing, on their way to New York in some Pullman cars, living the dream.

Katherine shows Jack a poem she’d written that makes Jack feel better. After promising — mostly — not to tease, Jack asks Katherine if he can look through more of her poems. Reluctantly, Katherine agrees.

The next day, Jack returns Katherine’s book with a new song, word for word lyrics to one of Katherine’s poems. He explains that this is the song they need to win. Katherine is hesitant but agrees to sing it.

Going to the contest, the band wins easily, hitting the judges hard with a song with a true story and one that many were too scared to tell.

Ecstatic, the band has a moment of victory before reality sets in.

They’re told that no one is paying for them to get to New York. They’re responsible for travel and getting there doesn’t guarantee them a spot on the broadcast. Jack and Race try to argue, telling them that they have to help them get there because everyone just heard them win, to which one of the producers replies that hardly anyone was listening.

And if no one saw it, it never happened.

(That moment gets me every ****ing time. The lights go out and a spotlight hits every single one of the boys. It hurts so bad.)

Their arguments get nowhere. And they’re left with this crippling news.

Jack falls to the ground in mental and emotional agony. The guys are arguing and getting worked up but Katherine is holding onto Jack, trying to make sure he’s alright.

Jack finally stands and tells them that they’re going to that contest. They have to make it there anyway they can and they’ll take every gig they can get because they have a right to respect.

And all the guys agree.

They’re done fighting for their country. It’s time to fight for themselves.

They take every gig offered to them, writing new songs and winning the hearts of their hometown (Cleveland). They even write a song about their hometown. Everyone adores it.

Jack and Katherine are closer than ever, Jack telling Katherine all the stories about Specs he can remember. He tells her one of his favorite memories of Specs which was when they were playing with some other cats in the army. Specs was playing the drums so fast, telling everyone to go faster and faster until finally he looked at Jack and just told him to sing. And Jack did. It was less of a song than a battle call.

When they write their new song, they begin to perform it everywhere they can as their town loves the song that’s all about them. While they do this, a certain club owner overheard the band talking about making enough money to get to New York. And Miss Medda hatches a scheme.

She asks the band to play more often for more pay and gets the rest of the town in on the game. Jack doesn’t realize what she’s doing.

Davey admits to Albert that his wife kicked him out. Albert offers up his home, igniting the first selfless act any of the others had ever seen from him.

Katherine tried to get Spot to give up the bottle. He refuses.

Spot starts massaging Crutchie’s back every now and then to help him relax and make him feel better after his injury.

In the midst of all of this, Katherine explains to Jack that she has to quit her job in order to make sure she could be at the contest. She says she’d be taking all the overtime and lipsticks as she could before then. She tells Jack how she lied about her mother being away to visit family and how she walked out on her and her father years ago.

And she says she wants to know what happens to Specs.

Unable to keep dodging the question, Jack breaks. He loses it, telling her that she couldn't understand. He’s crying as he recounts every detail in his brain, telling her how it happened, how it was his fault that his best friend was dead.

And Katherine runs away from him, horrified at what she’d just heard.

She doesn’t show up to the gig the next night.

Jack confides in Race who tells him that he’s letting this girl slip away from him. Jack tries to joke about Race not chasing after any pretty girls even though he has plenty of girls lining up to get a kiss from him after shows. Race says that he thought a smart guy like Jack would’ve had him figured out already.

Race lost his partner in the war.

Suddenly, things make a lot more sense.

Katherine stays home with her father, sobbing, explaining that it was Jack’s fault her husband was dead. But Pulitzer tells her that there aren’t reasons for what happens. Everything just happens. He tells her the only thing that matters is what she does next.

Katherine writes a poem and shows it to Jack the next day, apologizing even though Jack says she has nothing to apologize for. She says the same thing goes to him. She explains that she doesn’t know and cannot understand what happened in the frontlines. And this poem was for Jack and the boys.

Jack sets it to music knowing this song is too real and genuine to be played for an audience. So they change the lyrics.

This is the song Katherine would have sung if Specs had come home.

After performing this song for the first at Medda’s, Jack stands up to tell the audience that they won’t make it to New York, getting emotional and telling them that he was no hero and that the wrong guy made it home from the war. Medda stops him and explains to him he doesn’t need NBC when he has Cleveland. She hands him seven tickets to the Cleveland Limited. Pullman Cars. First class.

Jack literally breaks into tears and hugs Medda as tightly as he possibly can.

The band’s going to New York.

Jack gears up the guys for a successful contest while being awestruck and exploring New York City. Jack walks Katherine back to her room after a night exploring. They stop themselves from going into her room together after they both admit there’s more than just friendship between them.

They part ways that night, promising to see each other in the morning.

The next day, they go through preliminaries and are told they’ll be on the broadcast. Jack and Katherine sign the contract and the whole band celebrates until the next night when no one can seem to find Racer.

When Race arrives, two minutes before they’re on, he explains that Jack and Katherine signed away the rights to their own song and would be no more than walk ons if they won.

This just about breaks Jack.

Spot suggests leaving. The rest of the guys agree.

But Jack asks Katherine if she remembers all the original lyrics to Welcome Home, the poem she’d written for her boys.

She says yes.

And they know what they have to do for the soldiers out there to know they’re not alone.

They get on stage and they blow it up.

Crutchie starts the drums. Jack tells him to go faster. Faster. Faster.

Then he looks at Katherine. And he tells her to sing.

Charlie made it home.

Most of him at least .

Had three operations,

But the pain has not decreased .

Al learned to survive.

Means you never trust .

Once you see the worst in man,

Then how do you adjust?

Sean, he cracks a joke.

Claims to be alright .

Drinks a fifth of vodka

In his kitchen every night

And I stand here trying

Like mother Mary

With my private burden

Of grief to carry  

Welcome home my boys

Welcome home my sons

Welcome home my husband

Welcome home my love  

Welcome home

Welcome home

Welcome home  

David’s never free.

Schedules out his day.

Filling every minute

Just to keep the ghosts away .

He could never get

Back the life he had .

Faced with raising kids

Who did not recognize their dad .

Tony made it back to town

Four months ago

Lives to tell the things

No one could bear to know

Keeps his guard up now

A lot goes undiscussed

Focuses on fighting

What he finds unjust  

Welcome home my boys

Welcome home my sons

Welcome home my husband

Welcome home my love  

Welcome home

Welcome home

Welcome home  

Jack, he does his best,

Trying to pretend

What he doesn't talk about

Won't matter in the end

Jack, he made it home

But thinks it wasn't fair

How he made it out

But left his buddy there

Jack, he doesn't sleep

Because the nightmares come

Jack looks for an answer,

Jack, he looks for absolution,

And I'd give up anything

If I could give him some

And I stand here helpless

My arms extended

Knowing full well, darling,

Your war's not ended

Welcome home

Welcome home my husband

Welcome home my love

Welcome home

Welcome home

Welcome home my boys

Welcome home my sons

Welcome home my husband

Welcome home my love

Welcome home

Welcome home

Welcome home

It’s the most honest performance these men have ever given.

Months later, Jack and the band walk out of a movie theatre, joking about how good Dwight Anson Orchestra looked while Sinatra sang their song.

And some girls run up to them, asking for an autograph.

Jack gives them one, telling them to bring their father who served backstage at their next concert.

And then they leave.

They have a gig to get to.

What do you guys think? Wanna see any specific scenes?

For more Mood Boards and AUs, click here!

[catsdaydreams]

In your dreams.

Been thinking about this ever since that scene where N is all “its hard not to notice peoples smells, especially where there’s attraction” and the fact that they can hear your heartbeat at all times and according to A literally cant turn it off.

This is Nate x detective, Adam x detective, and Mason x detective in separate parts. I feel like they all would react wildly diffrently lmao. This is also the first fan article I’ve written in a long time, so be gentle lmao.

ALSO I CANT ADD A CUT SO PLEASE JUST SCROLL PAST IF YA DONT LIKE ADULT CONTENT lmao. RIP RIP SORRY ABOUT THAT.

Nate x Detective-

Nate hears her heartbeat begin to speed. He sighs, she must be having another nightmare about Murphy.

He debates for a few moments before heading down the hall to make her some tea to take for when he wakes her. He takes two steps towards the kitchen when he hears a strange sound, he listens for a moment longer convinced he had misheard, but when he doesn’t hear her again he starts again towards the kitchen. She says it again, and he knows he heard her correctly this time. She’s sighing his name in a breathy tone.

He frowns deeper, deciding to forgo the tea completely and just shake her out of her nightmare. He doesn’t want her to dream of him being attacked again. He freezes when he cracks her door open and her scent finally hits him for a second he is confused, but only a second.

Heat creeps into his ears,

“Oh.” He breaths, she’s not having a nightmare at all.

Nate shifts uncomfortably in the door frame and then the second realization hits him that she’s dreaming of him. The corners of his mouth twitch up as he goes to shut the door. Nate is neither fast enough, or quiet enough and as he try’s to exit, the detectives eyes flying open as she sits straight up in her bed trying to catch her breath.

Nate winces, feeling like he was caught sneaking on an intimate moment. “Hey,” he says with a sheepish smile. “I thought you were having a nightmare so I came to check on you, I was just leaving.” The detective turns scarlet, a blush flushing her cheeks as she realizes why Nate was leaving. “Did I say anything incriminating,” she manages with an embarrassed smile.

Nates lack of answer is all she needs as she groans and throws herself back on her pillow. “Sorry, I didnt mean to make you uncomfortable.” She responds, and he lets out a chuckle, “Not uncomfortable exactly.” He says as he turns his body to face her. The detective takes in his sleeveless shirt and loose sweat pants and tries not to notice the fabric straining around his hips, she smiles and raises an eyebrow at Nate who returns her smile with a grin.

“Maybe you should stay.” She says nonchalantly, but they both know the implications of what she’s saying as Nate enters her room and shuts the door behind him with a soft click.

Mason x Detective -

Mason enters her swiftly, his eyes never breaking contact with hers. “I want you, all the time. Just you.” He practically growls in between slow strokes through her hips. “Mason!” She cries out, grateful for this rare moment in which he allows his feelings to shine through.

“Kira,” Mason growls, with much more aggression than he was showing a moment ago. The detective looks up at him with a confused look, surprised by his sudden attitude shift. “KIRA.” He says louder, and suddenly she’s staring up at the ceiling in her warehouse room.

She lets out a disapointed sigh as she realized she had been dreaming.

“You’re making it very hard for me to rest. I can smell you all the way on the roof.” Mason says gruffly, and she finally notices him sitting in the chair in the corner of his room. “Mason, I- what are you doing here?” She says, shuffling her covers over her silk top trying to suppress her thundering heart. Masons eyes are damn near black, and her stomach turns under his unrelenting gaze.

“I told you, I can smell you from the roof.” He says, his eyes never wavering. “If you want to have dirty dreams, do it at your own place.” She doesn’t fail to notice the effect she’s had on his pants, tearing her eyes away from his. A rare moment of boldness overtakes her, and she lets the blanket fall down her front and then pushes it below her feet. “Or what,” Kira states, letting her knees fall apart.

Mason takes a sharp inhale and stands, “you’re playing a dangerous game there, detective.” But he waits to move towards her until she smiles and gives a small nod. “Or you leave me no choice but to make your dreams a reality.” He says, grabbing the tops of her thighs and pulling her underneath him as he lays on the bed.

Kira smirks from under him, feeling his length pressed into her hips. “You’re welcome to try, but they are pretty high standards to live up to.” Her unusual boldness takes Mason by surprise and amusement dances in his grey eyes. “Let’s find out,” he whispers.

Adam x Detective -

Adam glances at the sleeping detective next to him. Humans needed more sleep than vampires, and when he noticed her eyes starting redden he offered to take the rest of the remaining four hour drive. He didnt know why he agreed to be in the vehicle for the first place, but now he was glad he did. Felix’s teasing rang out in his mind, “someone fancies the detective.” He shook his head, romantic feelings had no place among teammates. He needed to be sure he would keep the mission a priority and not the detectives safety.

Still, he couldn’t stop the feeling in his chest when he glanced at her. Her ebony hair curling around her small face, it was then that he noticed how flushed she was. He frowned, looking back to the road. Her heart was starting to race also, and Adam suddenly had difficulty swallowing.

“She wasn’t? Was she?” He thought to himself, but he got his reply in an almost unbearable moan from the detective under her breath. “Just ignore it” he told himself as he tightened his jaw. He tried desperately to think of ANYTHING else. He thought about Murphy, and caging, and multiple other gruesome memories. He almost completely ignored it until she moaned his name.

“Jesus Christ.” He said under his breath, reaching to adjust his pants. He tries to continue driving, but he’s now noticing every unsteady breath, every heart beat, and every small sigh or noise coming from the passengers seat. Adam practically growls in frustration.

He needs to do something, he realizes as the presence in his groin becomes painful. He spots a gas station, and although his pride almost tells him to forget the idea, Lauren moans again and he pulls into the lot.

He disappears into the restroom and returns much less flustered. Lauren however apparently hasn’t stopped dreaming. He takes his seat in the drivers seat and decides to continue with his original ignoring plan made much easier. Of course, as luck would have it, he also noticed how quickly her breath was coming, he wasn’t innocent and he recognized the signs. He groaned, knowing he wouldn’t be able to handle her climaxing a few inches away from him.

He looks around the cab of the car and notices a half drunken water bottle. A very quick internal battle was decided when she breathed his name again, and he unscrewed the cap and dumped it over her face and chest.

“Adam what the fuck!” She gasped and shot up in her seat. Adam’s face remained completely neutral, “I heard your heart beating hard and thought you were having a nightmare.” He stated flatly and avoided looking at her. She glared at the stoic man beside her, finally noticing how he absolutely refused to look at her. She smirked, remembering her dream and realizing why he actually poured water on her.

“What’s wrong Adam? Didn’t like my dream?” She said, heat spreading through her body once again. Adam swallowed next to her and ignored her question, and Lauren knew she was winning. “Well, I have some unfinished business.” She said, slowly unbuttoning her pants waiting for his reaction. “I will leave you stranded out here in the middle of nowhere Lauren.” He said, his voice strained. She let out a barking laugh and buttoned her pants back up.

“Don’t worry, sir” she purred in his ear, noticing how he shivered at sir, “I wont tell the team how I distracted you from driving.” She placed a quick kiss on his cheek before he could complain and turned on the music. Adam rolled his eyes, and focused on the road. Lauren would be the death of him.

[catchweightstudio]

The big Conscript accessibility + options update!

Hello everyone, hope you are all doing well. I’ve been hard at work getting a new demo revision ready for mid-October. 

MAIN MENU

Here’s a look at the initial main menu for Conscript. I find it quite atmospheric and have found myself just keeping it on in the background while I work. The last menu for the previous demo was quite rushed so I’m happy with how this one has turned out. 

ACCESSIBILITY

Recently, the topic of accessibility has been on my mind. As a developer it’s easy to find yourself resisting against a player’s ability to alter your “vision” of the game. I can understand this sentiment - as I’m somebody who holds my project VERY close to my heart. This topic was inspired by a conversation on the Conscript Discord where I was asked how accessible the game would be. My immediate internal reaction to any questions relating to adding a new unplanned feature is generally “isn’t my damn Trello board already big enough??”

After some reflection and research however, this is a silly way to look at things. Yes, any new feature takes hours or even days to implement - but that doesn’t mean it’s not worth doing. For example, as a developer I end up putting in many extra days and weeks trying to get the game on different online storefronts or even other consoles, all in hopes of trying to expose the game to more people but I would never question this time as anything but time well spent. 

Accessibility is the same thing really. There are extra hours of work I can put in to ensure that MORE people can be exposed to the game and enjoy it.  So that’s what I’ve been doing, even if it has meant putting extra work hours in every day for the past few weeks.

PAUSE

First, you can now visit the options menu at any time without having to go through the inventory.  A tiny change, but it was requested quite a few times.

VISUAL OPTIONS

 Something I wanted to solve was text readability. There are now a variety of settings to adjust different properties of the text in-game.

You can now choose between HD and pixelated fonts. Even though low-res pixel font is coherent with the general art style, it is not the most legible typeface to read. Now you can have the option to “HD-ify” the font, which makes for greater readability. 

For those with dyslexia who may have trouble discerning between serif style characters, you can now opt for a simple sans-serif font style. This can also be toggled between HD or pixelated. 

Text colour can also be changed between white, yellow, green, red or blue.

This is applied to all standard text throughout the game! 

And finally, the background opacity of the standard textbox can be customised from 0 to 100. If you are struggling to discern between the text and background it may be easier to have this on 100 so the text stands more.

I feel like all these extra little options will solve the text readability issue for the majority of players. Any colour specific elements will also have non-colour related visual indicators. They are small changes but hopefully go a long way for some.

There are also some extra little visual accessibility options for those who may have trouble focusing on certain elements of the game’s artstyle. You can now zoom the camera in up close to our protagonist, and also alter cursor, crosshair and interaction icon properties such as size and colour. HUD opacity can also be lowered, but it is set to 100 by default. 

The screen blood that appears when you take damage can also be turned off now, as can any bright flashes in the game for those who are photosensitive or epileptic. For those who don’t enjoy screenshake, that can be turned off too. 

It hasn’t been implemented yet, but I am working on having brightness and contrast settings too in the future. Even though the game won’t feature much voice acting, I am going to work on having subtitles available not just for voices but also for any kind of hard-to-read environmental text. 

AUDIO OPTIONS

Nothing too fancy, but you can now adjust SFX, music and master volume all independently. This required a rework of the audio system so it was actually quite challenging, but happy to have it completed and working.

BLOOD TOGGLE

Blood and gore effects can now be toned down substantially, although it will be left on by default. The reason I decided to include this is because there may be some who are more interested in exploring the history of Conscript without the intense and bloody combat . In my opinion, Conscript is equal parts a history game and a survival horror game, so there will be cross pollination between those two demographics. Most of you will probably leave this on but it’s nice to have it there anyway. 

DIFFICULTY MODES

During the Kickstarter campaign, we reached the stretch goal for two difficulty modes but I am going to include some extra ones in the final game. There will now be six difficulty modes in total.

Training (Assist Mode)

This mode will feature checkpoints, increased health capacity and player damage will be increased. 

Recruit / Soldier / Veteran

These three will be the standard easy/normal/hard sort of thing from every other game in existence. Enemy damage and item quantity variables will be the main differences between these modes.

War Hero

This will feature more “realistic” elements from modes like Resident Evil Remake’s “Real Survival” difficulty. Item boxes will be unlinked from each other and limited saves will be mandatory. It will contain the same gameplay modifiers as Veteran mode.

Grognard (French for “old soldier”)

This ultimate challenge will include all the features of War Hero mode but with PERMADEATH. Yep, you heard right. 

LIMITED SAVE TOGGLE

Limited saving has always been controversial. The reason I opted for this old-school survival horror mechanic is because it introduces a risk/reward style of gameplay where players generally try and squeeze in one extra “task” before the next save, leading to extra hard decisions being made during gameplay. Understandably, not everyone wants to deal with this though. Despite this being the intended way to play, it will an optional toggle at the start of any Conscript playthrough. Note that on the very hardest difficulties it will be mandatory however. 

Here’s a look at the game parameter screen before you start a new save:

You will also have the ability to toggle off Kickstarter backer easter eggs if you so wish. 

CONTROL SETTINGS

Any action that requires you to hold a button - such as aiming and running - can now be toggled with one button press instead.

Also, I’m going to implement both a quick melee and quick heal feature so that you don’t have to go into the inventory just to break some barrels or use a healing item.

You can also turn off mouse support to play the game with a keyboard only. 

CONTROLLER REMAPPING

Full control remapping is now available for both keyboard and gamepad control schemes. This was a complicated and time consuming thing for me to implement but I’m glad to finally have it available. 

Hang on a second… did the inventory just change? 

BAG STYLES

By far the biggest feature in Conscript history....

This was a fun little extra I decided to make when I was testing out the flexibility of the new options menu. Admittedly it has nothing to do with accessibility, but it is related to the options menu! You can now change the colour of the inventory background. You will be spending a lot of time there so I figured it would be cool to give some small level of customization... there may even be some extra unlockable styles in the full game! Any ideas for patterns or designs? 

So that’s what I’ve been working on the past two weeks! What do you think? I know menu heavy things aren't exactly the most marketable features, but I felt it was important to share. Are there any other reasonably in-scope accessibility options you all would like to see?