#crystalware
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yamariiii · 2 years ago
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junkologistsgoods · 3 months ago
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Tupperware Crystal Wave Set of 4 - Lunch n' Dish Bowls with Vented Lids
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chemicalresearchupdates · 1 year ago
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Shaping the Future of the Crystalware and Glassware Market
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Crystalware and Glassware Market: Definition
Crystalware and glassware refer to a diverse range of elegant and functional products made from glass or crystal materials. These items are used in various settings, including households, restaurants, hotels, and the hospitality industry, for purposes such as serving food and beverages, decoration, and gifting. Crystalware typically denotes high-quality glassware, often embellished with intricate designs or patterns, while glassware encompasses a broader category of glass-based products, including drinking glasses, vases, bowls, and more.
Market Overview and Scope
The crystalware and glassware market is a dynamic segment of the broader consumer goods industry. It encompasses products designed for both functional and aesthetic purposes. The market's scope includes a wide array of glass and crystal items, ranging from simple everyday drinking glasses to ornate crystal chandeliers. These products find their place in various segments, such as tabletop glassware, barware, decorative pieces, and specialty glassware designed for specific beverages like wine or whiskey.
Market Growth
The crystalware and glassware market has witnessed consistent growth over the years, driven by several factors. The increasing trend of dining out, rising disposable incomes, and a growing preference for aesthetically pleasing dining experiences have all contributed to the market's expansion. Additionally, a surge in the demand for premium and customized glassware products for special occasions and events has further boosted market growth. As consumers increasingly seek unique and personalized products, manufacturers have adapted by offering customization options and innovative designs, driving market growth even further.
Market Industry
The crystalware and glassware market industry comprises a wide range of players, from small artisanal crafters to large-scale industrial manufacturers. Production methods vary, with some companies specializing in hand-blown glass or crystal products, emphasizing craftsmanship and uniqueness, while others focus on mass production to meet the demands of a broader consumer base. The industry is also influenced by trends in sustainability, with eco-friendly materials and production processes gaining prominence. Furthermore, the market is subject to global trade dynamics, with international trade playing a significant role in product availability and consumer choices.
Trends in the Market
Several trends are shaping the crystalware and glassware market. Sustainability has become a key focus, with consumers increasingly seeking products made from recycled or environmentally friendly materials. Additionally, minimalist and modern designs are gaining popularity, reflecting a shift towards simplicity and functionality. Customization remains a significant trend, with consumers looking to personalize glassware for special occasions and events. Furthermore, digital platforms and e-commerce have transformed the way consumers shop for crystalware and glassware, offering convenience and a wider selection of products. Finally, collaborations between designers and glassware manufacturers have resulted in unique and innovative collections, catering to diverse consumer preferences.
In conclusion, the crystalware and glassware market is a vibrant and evolving sector within the consumer goods industry, offering a wide range of products that cater to both functional and aesthetic needs. Its growth is driven by changing consumer preferences, sustainability concerns, and the continuous innovation of designs and materials, making it an exciting industry to watch in the coming years.
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kyywritess · 3 months ago
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CHAPTER 6: KNOW ITS FOR THE BETTER
pairing: aged up!katsuki bakugo x fem!reader
summary: After six intense years in Japan, YN LN has firmly established herself as a renowned gym owner. She's known by many pros for her charm, strength, and boxing abilities. She has a strong support system and amazing friends... her life in Japan was everything she dreamed it would be.
But everything changes one fateful night when a mysterious package appears on her doorstep. No note, no return address—just a plain box wrapped with a single pearly pink ribbon. As she unravels the contents of the box, she’s drawn into a dark, twisted mystery that seems to reach deep into her own past—a past she thought she had buried when she left her old life behind.
wc: 2k
warning: Sexual concepts
an: A little flash back and filler chapter to prepare for the next chapters..! Also merry christmas to everyone who celebrates:) 🎄
---
FLASH BACK
“You know those things will kill you, right?”
James, seated in the driver’s side of the sleek black SUV, leaned his head out of the window, his sharp eyes narrowing as he caught sight of you puffing on a cigarette.
“I hope they do, honestly.” Your voice was dry, laced with equal parts sarcasm and resignation.
Tonight, you were meeting Anthony Moretti at an upscale, five-star restaurant. The past few months had been a whirlwind of undercover work, and the plan had gone far too smoothly—so much so that Moretti was falling hard.
You’d spent hours getting ready for this dinner, reluctantly submitting to a makeover that left you feeling anything but yourself.
“I smell like I bathed in my grandmother’s perfume,” you muttered, scrunching your nose as the overpowering floral scent lingered, burning your nostrils.
Leaning against the hood of the car, your eyes scanned the street, catching movement in the shadows across the way.
“That’s my signal,” you said, tossing the cigarette to the ground and grinding it beneath the white heel of your shoe. Straightening, you glanced at James and flashed a thumbs-up. “How do I look?”
He smirked, giving you a once-over. “Good enough. Now go.”
Rolling your eyes, you turned and began your trek toward the restaurant’s glowing entrance. It was an unassuming building from the outside, draped in dim fairy lights that gave it the appearance of a quaint little diner. But stepping inside told a different story. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and rows of expensive liquor bottles sparkled under the warm light.
A hand gently touched the small of your back, making you pause.
“Lily.”
Turning, you met the familiar gaze of Anthony Moretti. His dark eyes lit up as his lips curled into a charming smile.
“Anthony,” you greeted, mirroring his expression.
His gaze lingered, unabashed as he took in every detail of your appearance. “You look stunning.”
You were no stranger to his compliments—small remarks about your looks, your presence, the way you seemed to complete him. Usually, they went in one ear and out the other. But tonight, his stare burned a little too long, his words carrying a weight that sent heat rushing to your cheeks.
“Shall we?” he asked, extending his hand.
You hesitated for only a moment before placing your hand in his, allowing him to guide you to a private table tucked in the back of the restaurant.
The table was a picture of elegance—pristine white linen, flickering candlelight, and fine crystalware arranged with precision.
Your eyes drifted around the room, catching on an old bookshelf mounted high on the wall. One particular book stood out—a fictional tale of a mafia war intertwined with a doomed love story. The irony wasn’t lost on you.
Anthony noticed your wandering gaze. “Do you like to read?” he asked, his voice soft as his eyes followed yours.
“When I have the time,” you replied, a hint of longing slipping into your tone.
“I have a library at home. You should come see it sometime.”
The invitation caught you off guard, though you quickly composed yourself. This could be your chance to gather the intel you’d been after for months.
“I’d like that,” you said with a smile.
The next two hours passed in a blur of easy conversation and genuine laughter. You hated how natural it felt, how disarmingly charming Moretti could be. He was a gentleman through and through, a stark contrast to the ruthless criminal you knew him to be.
Walking out of the restaurant, he turned to face you, his earlier offer still hanging in the air.
“It’s late,” he said, “but my library’s always open. Or, if you’d prefer, I can take you home.”
You hesitated, glancing back at the car where James was undoubtedly watching from the shadows. He was going to kill you for this decision.
Reaching for Anthony’s hand, you smiled. “Let’s go see that library.”
Pulling up to his home, your breath hitched. The sprawling white mansion loomed before you, surrounded by a pristine iron gate and an expansive yard where two large guard dogs prowled.
“Your house is beautiful,” you said, unable to hide your awe.
“I bought it hoping to start a family someday,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “It gets lonely here. Mostly just a few friends stopping by—it’s just me most of the time.”
The mention of a family made something twist in your stomach. You reminded yourself of the reality: the drugs, the murders, the chaos Moretti orchestrated with a simple word. Whatever innocence he portrayed, you couldn’t let yourself believe it.
Inside, the house smelled of sweet musk, warm and inviting, much like its owner.
“This way,” Anthony said, leading you toward the kitchen. He pulled two whiskey glasses from a sleek cabinet and poured the amber liquid with practiced ease.
“What makes you think I like whiskey?” you teased, leaning against the counter.
He chuckled. “You don’t strike me as a wine or cocktail kind of woman. And I remember what you ordered the night we met.”
So he paid attention.
Following him into another part of the house, you couldn’t help but notice how bare the walls were—no photos, no personal touches, just sparse decor.
“I don’t let just anyone in here,” he said as he opened a grand wooden door. “Feel special.”
Stepping inside, your breath caught. The library was breathtaking. Floor-to-ceiling shelves lined the walls, packed with thousands of books. A cozy reading nook sat at the center, complete with plush leather chairs and a soft throw.
“This…” You turned to him, eyes wide. “This is incredible.”
Anthony chuckled, shaking his head. “I’ve never seen anyone get so excited over a few books.”
“A few books? This is a lifetime’s worth!”
You couldn’t help yourself, running your fingers along the spines of the books, reading the titles as though committing each one to memory.
As you immersed yourself in the collection, Anthony moved closer, his gaze never leaving you.
“I find it endearing,” he murmured, “how you appreciate the little things.”
You didn’t respond, too captivated by the room. Picking up a book, you flipped it over to read the summary, only for him to step in behind you, his presence magnetic.
“Can I kiss you?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.
Your stomach dropped. This wasn’t how the mission was supposed to go, but the line between duty and deception had blurred long ago.
“Yes,” you whispered, the word tasting like betrayal.
Anthony’s lips crashed against yours, hungry and demanding, his hands finding their way to your waist. You barely had time to think as he lifted you onto the edge of the desk, his movements urgent and deliberate.
This was about trust, you reminded yourself. About getting closer. About completing the mission.
But as his lips trailed down your neck, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were losing control—of him, of the situation, and of yourself.
PRESENT 
You remember that night as if it were yesterday—the sweet musk of his cologne still lingering in your senses, the hundreds of missed calls from James flashing relentlessly on your phone.
You had left Anthony’s house that night with a walk of shame etched into your every step. Telling him you’d call an Uber was a lie; James had been waiting for you all along, parked just outside the gates, his jaw clenched tight the moment you disappeared inside.
At the time, gaining Anthony’s trust was paramount. It was the centerpiece of the entire operation, the linchpin that everything depended on. So, you did what you had to do. Even if it meant betraying yourself, hurting others, and bracing for the therapy bills that would inevitably follow.
James was on the verge of murder that night. The sight of you descending those marble steps, heels dangling in your hand, mascara streaked down your cheeks, and an expression that revealed more than you intended—it made his blood run cold. And he wasn’t sure if he was angrier at you or at Moretti.
“It’s part of the plan,” you had told him, over and over. But he knew better. He knew you. He knew that night haunted you. That every time someone tried to get close, to reach the parts of you long buried, you would retreat into the walls you’d carefully built. Hide away until the risk of feeling something—anything—disappeared again.
Now, staring up at your ceiling, the weight of it all pressed down on you like a suffocating fog. You had chosen to stay in your own home tonight, weary of the endless games, waiting for Anthony Moretti to find you.
And yet, a part of you wanted him to find you. The faster this was over, the faster you could return to something resembling normalcy. The faster you could see your family again.
The thought of your family brought your gaze to the little black box hidden under your bed. A box filled with the fragments of a life you missed so deeply. You only ever opened it on holidays, birthdays, or nights like this—when the ache to speak to them was too much to bear.
Inside were hundreds of handwritten letters to your mom and dad. Letters you could never send, for fear it would all come crumbling down. The ink was smeared in places, marred by tear stains and trembling hands.
You never had the heart to throw them away. You kept them instead, tucked safely under your bed, clinging to the hope that one day they might read the words you couldn’t say in person.
Tonight felt like one of those nights. With a heavy sigh, you reached for a fresh piece of paper and a pen. Settling down at the desk, you began to write, pouring everything you had into the letter—just as you always did.
To Mom and Dad 
Hi, it's me again. I've been sitting here for the past few hours, thinking about you both, and my heart feels a little heavier than usual. I miss you both so much. Life keeps moving, as it always does, but there’s something about being away from you that makes the days feel incomplete. I miss the sound of your voices, the way you always seem to know exactly what to say when I need guidance, and the simple comfort of knowing you're just a hug away. 
I need to tell you something but promise you wont freak out. I'm going undercover again, but not as a hero. Anthony Moretti is back, and he's after me. I know after everything that happened, this isn't what you want to hear and I wish so badly I could come clean about everything and tell you right to your face. I know you guys would know what to say, how to coax me through this. But I promise I'll make it out alive this time. I'll take down Moretti and I'll come home. 
Before I go though, I do have something to ask mom… dad stop reading if you're reading this. 
Mom, before I left we never really had boy conversations. I was never boy crazy in high school, so I never asked for help before. But I'm asking for help now. Remember when I told you about Bakugo? The most self centered, mean, and harsh person i've ever met. Yeah well turns out he's none of those things at all. He's sweet, and he cares about his friends more than any other person I have ever met. He asked me to be his date to a hero gala. And I said yes- and I think I like him. But I'm scared. 
What if he hates me forever when he finds out my secret. What if he can't look me in the eyes after he finds out everything I have done. Will he hate me? I hope he doesn't because I dont think Ive ever felt like this for anyone. And I'm scared because what if he doesn't hate me. What if he is sweet and understanding, how can I let him into my life without being scared? I need your guidance mom, more than ever. 
Okay dad you can come back… 
I hope to see you both soon, to sit together and catch up on everything we’ve missed. Until then, please take care of yourselves, and know that I’m thinking of you every single day.
I love you both more than words can say.
With all my heart, YN
---
TAGLIST: @emmaafinchh @iissza
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nostalgicfun · 8 months ago
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So, I've been trying to give my living areas a design-on-the-dime makeover to feel like an actual, authentic 90s/early 2000s house. I've been thinking about replacing the rugs as my rugs are very "Walmart in 2014," but rugs are SO expensive I couldn't justify it.
BUT THEN.
I was at the thrift store the other day and they had this huge bin of rugs for $20 a piece, and they were big rugs, too!
...But they were bound with tape and plastic so they couldn't be unfurled. All I could tell was that they were very thick/nice quality and a burgundy and beige combo, which is exactly what my mom and all family members had in the 90s/00s.
So I asked the thrift store owner if he knew what kind of condition they're in and he said they were immaculate and came from an older couple's estate. Awesome. Cool.
Here's $40. I'm putting two of these bad boys in my car.
So I buy two rugs completely at random with no idea what might be on them. I get them home. I unload them. I unfurl the first one and
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IT'S A VEGETABLE RUG?????
I just stood there, floored. On one hand, vegetable rug. On the other hand, vegetable rug.
This is so 90s mom Tuscan kitchen. This is the rug in the dining room of your friend's house where their parents make more money than your parents and you eat spaghetti at their dining room table after swimming in their pool. This is the rug in the dining room of your great aunt's house where no one actually eats in the dining room, it's just for show and there's crystalware on the table at all times.
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cal-daisies-and-briars · 2 months ago
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Ask and ye shall receive 😝
You actually have perfect timing though because I just thought of some new themes and was going to send in more asks soon! So first we have the stories where Chris is Going Through It™️ (to very different degrees across the stories but still). In order of severity of his struggles:
🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲 (LOVING THIS ONE SO HAPPY ITS BEING PUBLISHED!! I’ve been following along the snippets the whole time but it’s so fun to read it all through and see all the parts I missed. And that last part where Eddie finally got to Chris and he’s so out of it!! So engaging I can’t wait to see the full picture of what’s happening!)
🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼 (covids getting to him :( poor kid! All three of his parents are going to help him get through it together! Also covid means we’re approaching Buckley parents’ visit territory! I’m pumped for the angst!)
🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩 (oh boy the probie better not screw up the florist visit! I’m definitely worried it’s gonna go wrong! And I really want to know what Buck’s surprise is!!! This story is so adorable and sweet and funny and I’m really loving it!)
- PCA <3
THIS WORKED GREAT FOR US!
Great theme. So true. Why am I hurting him?
117 for 🌲 (THANK YOU! So glad you're enjoying it!)
---
“I have,” Adriana says. “And, wait… Eddie, you’ve killed people, too. Right?”
Eddie frowns at her. “Yes. In Afghanistan.”
“See, Mom? Eddie and I have killed. Sophia puts things down for a living.”
“Well, I do more than that,” Sophia grumbles. 
“We’ve got a sort of grit I just don’t think you have,” Adriana says. 
Eddie swallows anxiously. He’s not sure challenging her to a game of chicken is the route he’d take. But he got them this far. Maybe it’s time to pass the baton. 
“See, I don’t think any of this was thought out ahead of time,” Adriana says. “And I get that. Hell, do I ever. You’re not playing chess here, Mom. You’re just surviving. Trying to hold your little delusion together. Every decision you make is out of desperation.”
Eddie waits for Helena to reach across the table and strike her. It doesn’t happen. 
“So do it, Mom,” Adriana says. “Let him go or kill him. I don’t think you’ve really thought through what will happen if you choose the latter.”
Their mother locks her jaw. Her eyes flicker between Adriana and Ramon. There’s an incredibly tense moment where Eddie has no idea how this will go. And then enough moments pass, and he realizes Adriana is right. If Helena was serious about murdering their dad, she would have already. She’s right - it’s all been an act to hold her flimsy life together. 
“Three…” Adriana says. “Two…”
Helena opens her mouth, as if she’s about to command Ramon to do it. To stab himself. Sophia flinches. Eddie holds his breath. His mother’s mouth snaps shut. 
“One,” Adriana finishes. 
Helena exhales, defeated.
Adriana turns to their father. “Dad, you can let go of the knife now. You don’t have to listen to her, remember? You can think for yourself.”
Helena starts to cry.
Ramon inhales heavily. His eyes flicker around, conflicted. 
“It’s okay, Dad,” Adriana says. “You can let go.”
Like he’s been resuscitated, Ramon gasps and drops the knife. He stands and takes a few frantic steps backward, bumping into a cabinet and nearly knocking over some crystalware. He looks terrified. He looks small, in a way.
“What’s happening?” He demands. “Helena, what did you do?” 
Eddie looks between them both. His parents. He spent so many years afraid of them. His father especially, but his mother as well. Afraid of their judgement. Their lectures. Their hands. Their punitive attitudes towards his decisions. Their willingness to rip his son from him. And now he’s looking at them and he’s just… Unafraid. Saddened. This is pathetic. This is all so damn pathetic. 
And something in Eddie’s chest just kind of unlocks. Like a stiff joint cracking. 
“Mom,” Eddie says. “Tell him what you did.”
“No, no,” Helena begs. “Please. This doesn’t have to-”
“Tell him!” Eddie snaps. “Tell him what we are.”
Ramon looks at Eddie. Then he turns to Adriana. And the look on his face is one of pure horror. Rejection. 
Well. 
That’s okay. 
Eddie thinks he wants to reject this circus first. 
🍂
“Okay,” Buck says, putting in the address to the nearest motel in his phone map. “Repeat the plan.”
“We go to the motel. We sleep a few hours. You order me a bunch of pizza and drinks before you leave. You go get Dad, and I don’t open the door for anybody unless I physically see him.”
“Right,” Buck confirms as he pulls out of the parking lot. “I’ll leave you with Bobby and Maddie’s phone numbers. If there’s an emergency, either of them would come for you. Or-or they’d send Chimney.”
“Okay.”
“I hate even thinking about leaving you alone, but I can’t take you with me.”
“I know, Buck. It’s okay.”
“You’re sure?” Buck asks.
“Yeah,” Chris nods. “I haven’t… Uh, I haven’t felt like I could be alone for real in a while.”
---
72 for 🔼 (Well it's not alll gonna be angst... is all I can say...)
---
It goes on that way for weeks. Calls and online games mostly, but twice a week, Buck and Eddie are over in the yard, either doing garden chores, or directing Chris with his. Sometimes, when the weather is right, Shannon will lay a blanket on the opposite side of the yard and sit out there with them. Jane will sit up on the blanket, some brightly colored toy in her hand, watching them work intently and babbling little baby sounds. Eddie gets to talk to her. Gets to answer back like they’re having a conversation. 
For those weeks, Chris seems happy. Shannon seems happy. Jane, well… She’s a baby. Her mood changes with the hour. But she seems good, too. Great, even. Eddie just can’t wait to hold her again. 
“You’re in a better mood lately,” Buck observes one afternoon, driving home from gardening.
“I miss the kids,” Eddie says. “It’s just good to be with them, in whatever way we can be.”
Buck nods, smiles softly. “Yeah. You’re different after you see them. I… I love having you all the time, but I wish it didn’t have to be this way.”
Eddie exhales heavily. “Me too.”
Buck smiles again, but there’s a sad look in his eye. 
“What is it?” Eddie asks. 
“Nothin’,” Buck clearly lies.
“No, really,” Eddie presses. “What’s up?”
“I’ll just miss not being with you every day,” Buck says. “Even if I know it’s for the best.”
Eddie takes a deep breath. 
“If you think I’m letting you go, Buck… You’re crazy.”
Buck scrunches his lips to the side for a second, blushing. 
“I’d hope not,” he mumbles. 
“Definitely not,” Eddie confirms. “And, it’s not just… I mean, you’re there every time, too. You’re family, okay? I take that seriously.”
That kind of leaves Buck speechless for a second. Eddie knows he takes it seriously, too. 
v.
The last time Eddie came home - really came home, after being far away - it hadn’t exactly been his choice. He was shot out of the sky and littered with bullets and nearly died. Shannon nearly lost him. He didn’t come home. He was sent home. Not his choice. Shannon always wondered, would he have reenlisted? Would it just have kept happening, if it had been left up to him? If he hadn’t been medically discharged, when would she have snapped? What would have happened? Would she have divorced the empty side of their bed?
She doesn’t know. That’s not the point. The point is, today, after another prolonged absence - albeit not his choice or fault, and much preferable to Afghanistan - Eddie comes home as soon as he possibly can. Restrictions are lowered. Eddie takes a test. And the moment it’s clear, he’s on his way. No hesitations. No excuses. He’s just coming home. 
Shannon tells Chris. He whoops with excitement. 
“You’re sure?” He asks, giddy. 
“I’m sure,” she promises. “He’s ten minutes away, sweetie.”
Her son is so happy he starts to cry. 
---
96 for 🪩 (THANK YOU!)
---
It doesn’t quite go that way. 
Eddie wakes up to Christopher shouting. 
“NO!” 
This is a rather alarming way to be woken. Eddie, startled, nearly rolls out of bed and hops to his feet to run to him, before he remembers his foot. 
“I got it,” Buck mumbles, climbing out of bed with a yawn.
The whole point of today was for Buck to sleep in and take it easy, but what can they do? A shout like that requires some haste. Eddie can’t currently be hasty. Eddie lags behind as Buck hurries out of the room, in search of Christopher. He finds them in the bathroom. Buck’s broad frame blocks Eddie’s view inside the doorway. 
“This is horrible! Prom is ruined!” Chris complains.
“No,” Buck says gently. “No, it’s not that bad. Really!”
“What is it?” Eddie asks. “What’s going on?”
“My life is over!” Chris bemoans.
Buck sighs and steps aside, letting Eddie into the bathroom. 
“Look,” Chris points to his forehead. His forehead, where, smack in the middle, there is a massive, red zit. “It’s horrible.” 
“Oh, wow,” Eddie says dumbly.
Buck nudges him.
Christopher’s face crumples even further. 
“I mean!” Eddie leaps to fix his statement. “I mean, it’s not that bad. Wow, your reaction was… Big, because the zit is not.” 
“Oh, great save,” Buck mutters.
“You’re lying!” Chris practically whines. “It’s horrible!”
Eddie sighs. He fucked this one up.
“Okay, you know what? It’s not great.” He admits. “But prom isn’t ruined. We can fix this.” 
“Can we?” Chris asks. “Because they don’t just disappear!” 
“No. No, they don’t,” Eddie agrees. 
“But we can hide it!” Buck interjects. 
“Hide it?” Chris asks.
“Yeah!” Buck nods enthusiastically. “Yep. We can, uh… Today we can work on getting the redness down, and tomorrow we can use some makeup.”
“Makeup?” Chris asks. “I can’t do makeup! I don’t know how!”
“Well…” Eddie winces. “You must have friends that do. Ainslee does, right?”
“What?” Chris demands. “She can’t see this! She can’t know!”
“Eddie, how did you ever get a girl to take you seriously?” Buck chides. “No, Chris. Don’t worry. We’ll look it up on YouTube.”
To his question, Eddie has no idea. Realizing he’s gay was incredibly liberating, in that he never has to think about that again. And, on top of that, Buck is pretty easy to be around. No stress. No pressure. 
“YouTube,” Chris sighs. “Right. Okay. Buck, you’ll help me?”
“Of course,” Buck nods. 
“I can help, too!” Eddie insists. 
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punk-chicken-radio · 2 months ago
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I Think I Need New Glasses…..
…..I mean, I did get a new set of bins fairly recently but I’m finding the frames a little heavy…..I can see fine, which is always a plus…..but they’re ridging my bridge…..also I think the cats are looking at me kinda funny…..and I don’t want to freak them out too much…..gotta keep them on side so they don’t murder me when I’m sleeping…..
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…..besides, changing specs again could be expensive…..and as usual January finds me almost out of cash……@loveaxiomatic tells me that she’s found a cheaper solution for reading and stuff……not sure how that’ll work for diving though?…..
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…..I think I’ll stick with what I’ve got…..too much of a faff having another eye test and trying on different styles…..plus the optician keeps trying to get me to use contact lenses…..but no…..not sticking things in my eyes for no one…..besides…..
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…..you know what’s coming up next?…..no, not songs about eyewear(should have had my glasses on when checking the doable playlist list)…..it’s songs about things made of glass…..smashing!
Crystalware Kisses 😘
love(shut it)axiomatic
The Old(no change)Smelly
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itstokkii · 5 months ago
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A Week with Turkitty: Day 2
Day 1 | Day 2
‎‧₊˚✧[🇹🇷🇺🇿]✧˚₊‧
Morning came, the sunlight streaming through her lace curtains. She felt something wriggling, light tufts of fur brushing against her knuckles.
She opened her eyes to see a cat sleeping next to her.
"You're supposed to be in the guestroom..." she sighed before getting up to wash up and make breakfast for the both of them.
Turkey awoke to the smell of kielbasa, and made his way to the kitchen to see Uzbekistan preparing the green tea for breakfast.
"Good morning. Did you sleep well?" She asked him, her eyes concentrated on the hot water she was pouring from the kettle to the teapot.
Turkey meowed and closed his eyes satisfactorily.
Every night is a good night when I'm sleeping next to-
"But you can't sleep in my bed." Uzbekistan's voice cut him out of his thoughts.
What?!? Why??
"I know you're a kitty, but I don't want your fur all over my pillows, sheets, and comforters. There's a guestroom over there with a bed as well, why not seize the opportunity?" She placed the teapot carefully on the table, sat down, and turned on the TV.
The news channel was droning on about what the next few years had in store for Uzbekistan's urban landscape, but given that she knew all of that already, she sighed and switched to the sports channel, where a rerun of a soccer game from last night played. As per usual, Turkey was the first to finish his food, while Uzbekistan took her time. They were both engrossed in the soccer game, Turkey more so.
She watched as his pupils dilated and giggled. "Same old Turkey!"
All his frustration and excited yells at the game were now reduced to cute meows. He hated it. She, however, relished in it, snapping a few pictures and videos to send to the group chat.
When it was halftime, she began to clean up the table, placing the dishes in the sink. She quickly changed into her pantsuit and then sat down in front of him.
"I have to go back to work really quickly since I forgot my purse. I’m bringing you with me because as a cat you’re quite helple-Ahaha! What are you doing? Stop!" Uzbekistan burst into giggles and mustered her remaining strength to look at the criminal sitting on her lap. Turkey was too busy kneading tiny biscuits into her thigh to listen.
"Cut that out! Please! No!" She pulled him off of her in between her laughs. "Look, I'll add another rule. You can't touch me. I mean, gentle touching is fine, but whatever you were doing just now? Don't do that."
She brought out the cat carrier, placing it on the floor with a resounding clang. The orange cat pulled at her leg, hissing at the cage.
There’s no way you’re stuffing me in that!
Uzbekistan sighed. “Look, I know it’s cramped and cold. But I honestly can’t think of a better idea to carry you around safely—Wait! I think I have an idea. I’ll be back.” She ran into her bedroom.
In the meantime, Turkey pranced around back and forth before spotting the cabinet from the corner of his eye. She was right about there being all sorts of precious wares…crystalware…and a commemoration plate of Misha the Bear from the 1980 Olympics that he had boycotted. The other Turkics would talk about it from time to time, and he’d be completely lost. He had tried to ask them about it once.
“Oh right, I forgot,” Turkmenistan sighed, “You missed out. On like, a lot. So much time and effort and meticulous planning…”
“Hey, it’s no big deal, Turkey! You can still watch the recorded footage on Youtube! ‘Course, it won’t be the same, but you’ll still feel a sliver of what we had felt.” Kyrgyzstan patted him on the back.
…Yeah, they probably had a grudge.
On one shelf, he’d found a bunch of old black-and-white photographs of what seemed like her, her siblings, and of others. In one of them, she was in a kitchen with Ukraine, both of them laughing and folding varenyky together. Another was a family photo, with Tajikistan, Turkmenistan, and Kyrgyzstan standing up, and Uzbekistan and Kazakhstan sitting down on chairs. Kyrgyzstan had a hand resting on the top of Kazakhstan’s chair, while Turkmenistan placed a hand on Uzbekistan’s shoulder. 
There was also a photocopied painting of her from her time as the Bukharan Khanate. The artist was quite talented, capturing her regal look, the many decorations and jewelry that accessorized her clothing, down to the embroidery. But he had to admit, nothing compared to seeing her like that in real life all those years ago, when she was still a stickler for rules, but was energetic and had more light in her eyes. Nargiza insisted the change was because she had “matured into an adult,” though he felt there was more to it than that.
“I was pretty back then, too, wasn’t I?” Uzbekistan chuckled as she came out of the room with a designer tote bag.
“Here. I hope this will feel more comfortable and if not, it’s at least a disguise since I’m actually not allowed to bring animals inside the office.” 
Turkey hopped into the bag. His tiny cat legs brushed against her other supplies: her makeup pouch, a portable phone charger, a few snacks, and her wallet.
“Careful, by the way. This is designer.” Nargiza put on her heels, grabbed her bag, and got in her car.
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“Hello, Miss.”
“Hello.” She gave her assistant a gentle nod.
“I thought you were on break?”
“Well, yes, but I forgot my clutch purse on my desk. I came here to retrieve i—what’s wrong.”
Her assistant shifted his weight on one foot to the other. “Sorry, I couldn’t help but notice, but…there’s something in your bag. It’s quite furry.” 
If Turkey could sweat, he would right now. 
“A-ah! Well-! That’s my—”
“It actually looks like a cat. Miss Uzbekistan, did you bring a ca—”
“Shh! Yes, I did. A…friend dropped it over at my house to take care of. I couldn’t just leave it at home.”
“...Can I take a couple pictures?” Her assistant slowly held up his phone.
“Who are you going to show it to?”
“Oh, just my family at home. You know how my daughter loves cats…”
“Sure. Just don’t disturb the cat.”
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Turkey was groaning for the past five minutes ever since they had left her office. 
Come on…Think about my dignity! My pride as a man! To be taken photos of and shown to little girls…This isn’t right!
Uzbekistan sighed. “He’s a responsible guy, hence why I chose him as my assistant. Your photos are safe.”
YOU CHOSE A GUY TO ASSIST YOU AT WORK???
“Please be quiet. My stomach is rumbling…How about some lavash?
Turkey cocked his head to the side.
We’re having…bread for lunch…?
“Lavash…you know, like kebab?”
Oh.
Turkey sat on the table and snacked on a mini lavash Uzbekistan had the vendor make for him, while she munched on a larger one fit for a human’s stomach, petting him with her clean hand. Turkey still couldn’t get over how clear everyone’s voices were in the mall, overlapping each other like newspaper clippings.
“So, what do you think?”
Turkey meowed, his eyes dilating.
“Ahaha! So cute…your eyes are getting bigger! So you do like it, hmm?” She scratched behind his ears and below his neck.
God, this is embarrassing…But it feels so good…
He leaned into her touch, and at this point Uzbekistan laughed louder, placing a hand on her mouth so as to muffle them.
“We still need to go grocery shopping for your tuna,” she said as she wiped his mouth with a napkin before placing him in her bag. 
She hauled 8 cans of tuna, along with her already heavy tote bag thanks to a certain orange cat, back to her car.
“Who knew tuna was so expensive these days?”
If Turkey could speak, he would have probably reminded her of her economy and the fact that she was a landlocked country where the only tuna she'd be getting are imported. But he had a feeling she knew that already.
The ride home was mainly silent, occasionally interrupted by Uzbekistan awkwardly trying to make small talk with a cat, who could only respond in meows and chirps she was unable to understand.
“Ah, what a long day…” Uzbekistan kicked off her shoes and flopped on her couch. 
“But I can't relax yet. I need to give you a bath.” 
G-give me a bath?! Turkey's face scrunched up. Don't you know cats clean themselves?
“Usually, I don't really wash cats that often since they can clean themselves well. But you…I don't know when you'll turn back. Just in case, I'm going to give you a bath so that your hygiene doesn't end up compromised. Now!”
She scooped him up and carried him into the bathroom, Turkey yowling the whole way there.
I hate this…
Turkey was sitting in a small plastic tub of water as Uzbekistan cleaned him up with pet shampoo she had secretly bought at the store earlier.
“Let's get your little paws…” She hummed to herself, gently scrubbing and kneading them. 
Turkey felt conflicted about being treated like a baby(even if he was being taken care of by a pretty lady), taking his inner turmoil out on the water as he swiped his paws back and forth against the shower head.
“Ahah!! Stop! You're getting water all over me! Sadik, please! Ah!” She squeaked and laughed, attempting to shield the oncoming water with an arm.
Sadik looked at Nargiza, whose face had burst into red from laughter, the colors collecting most at her cheeks. Her other arm was clutching her stomach out of pain.
“Haha! Look at-snrk-look at you! It's like you stuck a fork into an outlet or something!”
Turkey bat the water against her with more force.
He had seen her appearances on TV, and her laugh was elegant and ladylike. A hand covering her mouth as she laughed, with the “ohoho” kind of laugh you'd see young ladies do in period dramas.
But after looking at her again as the water sprayed on her, as she laughed so hard she was beginning to snort and tears were coming out of her eyes, her mascara ruined, his heart blossomed with a certain adoration. 
He was looking at her real laugh, not the suppressed one.
After a short moment of more laughter, she managed to whip out her phone from her back pocket in time to take pictures of Turkey's wet sponge form.
No doubt she'll send this to the group chat…
“W-wait, let me just…” she manipulated his fur into little spikes, and with shaky hands, took more photos.
Uzbekistan snapped to her senses, trying to calm herself down. After taking a deep breath, she grabbed a towel and began to dry him off. 
“Ah…I-I couldn't help myself. If it makes you feel better…you look adorable….in an ugly way…?”
Turkey meowed with a hint of irritation, hoping the point gets through. It's all he could answer, since he wouldn't be able to magically speak to her and tell her how it was completely fine because of how adorable and pretty she looked as she laughed her ass off.
She looked at him and his slight frown. “I'm sorry, Turkey. I should make it up to you. How about some sardines as a treat? Lithuania brought me some all the way from Vilnius.” 
He meowed, as if he was considering the offer.
“And…and you get to sleep with me tonight.” 
At that, he stood up on his hind legs and raised his front paws, now very satisfied with the offer.
It took everything in Uzbekistan to not squeal as she gave him upsies, pulling him to her chest and carrying him to her room, where the blow dryer was…
…To which she laughed once again as Turkey's fur puffed up under the blast of the dryer.
However, she cuddled him in her sleep, and he couldn't be upset about that.
As she snored away, Sadik in her arms, Nargiza's phone was blowing up with the other Turkics replying to the photos she had taken of him.
Turkmenistan: ahaha! he seems to be doing well under your care! sending him my love ❤️
🇰🇿kazakhstan🇰🇿: oh my gosh…sister please don't be so cruel think about his feelings 😭
skibidisigmaohio123: we got unc getting a cat bath before gta 6 😂😂😩🗣️
kyrgyzstan: society is healing
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keelywolfe · 1 year ago
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With Tongue (short)
Crowley and Aziraphale discuss the angel's most recent assignment during 'The Arrangement.' This does not go in the direction Crowley expects.
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"So how did it go?" Crowley asked idly. Not that he was particularly interested in the details, basic temptation and all. If there'd been any issues, he had no doubt Aziraphale would have brought it up before the waiter even arrived with the menu. But it was good to keep the angel talking during dinner, he was wont to become a little too absorbed with whatever was on his plate and ignore his dining companion a tad too much for Crowley's tastes.
Aziraphale dabbed at his mouth with a napkin before he answered, lest any cake crumbs escape. "It was actually terribly easy."
"Eh, usually is,” Crowley drawled. He idly tipped his wine glass up on the rim of its base, rolling it across the tablecloth like a crystal wheel. “A nudge here, a wile there, most of them fall pretty quick."
"Hmm,” Aziraphale took another bite of cake, some unholy concoction piled high with white cream. Crowley was making a sincere attempt at not showing he was deeply invested in watching each bite disappear between the angel’s lips, with limited success. “Honestly, he was rather demanding about it."
"Demanding?” That made him frown. The humans he was sent after were usually readily susceptible to the mildest of suggestions; certainly the tasks he offered to Aziraphale were on the low end of the difficulty scale. “Really? How so?"
Aziraphale hummed around his fork, though whether that was in agreement or appreciation, Crowley couldn’t tell. He dabbed at his mouth again, wiping away a tiny, distracting smear of cream from his upper lip. "Mm, yes, and entirely too much tongue about it as well."
His focus on the angel’s lips was broken as his thoughts came to a screeching halt and the only thing that kept his wine glass from topping over to spill a lovely Cabernet across the white tablecloth as the sudden convulsive clench of his fingers. "....wha...tongue??"
"Well, yes, of course,” Aziraphale frowned at him in mild disapproval, “however do you kiss them?"
"K--kckkkc---ki--" The word caught in his throat, lodging in there like a bit of cheese or undigested potato. He managed to raise his glass to his mouth without slopping the lot of it down the front of his shirt and gulped it down, wheezing as half of it chose to be defiant and traveled down the wrong pipe.
Aziraphale’s frown deepened into concern, enough that he actually set his fork down. "Gracious, are you all right? I know you were a serpent, but you might want to save swallowing things whole to food rather than wine glasses."
"I don't—” Crowley rasped, trying to get past the betrayal of his corporation’s vocal cords when he needed them the most. He managed to splutter out, loud enough for the nearby tables to cast them a variety of askance looks, “You kissed him??"
"Of course I did.” It should be impossible for those words to sound so prim coming from an angel, from his angel, who now that Crowley didn’t seem to be able to choke to discorporation, was returning to his cake with polite enthusiasm, his napkin back in full force before he added, “He was quite agreeable afterward. And I won't have you say I'm not trying my best to keep to the standards of our arrangement."
"Angel!?" Too loud and the pitch of that single word was high enough to send a tremble through the crystalware in the entire room.
Aziraphale was frowning again. "Dear me, are you quite well? You're very red, Crowley, here, let me get you a glass of water."
He started to rise and Crowley snapped out, "Why, so you can stick your tongue down the waiter's throat?"
"Tch, you're being silly,” Aziraphale sighed, “I would do no such thing. The water is free."
"ANGEL!!?!” This time every wine bottle in the dining room shimmied an inch to the right. The other patrons were focused intently on their dinners and not at all sneaking glances to the veritable gossipy show unfolding before them.
Aziraphale sat back down with a sigh. There was the faintest pull of a smirk at the corners of his mouth. "Do you know, you're quite gullible at times, my dear."
"…gullible,” Crowley repeated. Was this how humans felt right before insanity struck? He suspected it might be, wondered if Hell allowed for time off due to unexpected mental health crisis and what form he’d need.
"Mm, yes,” Aziraphale picked up his fork again and took a rather unseemly large bite of cake that left a smear of cream on his upper lip that he licked away, a pink flicker of tongue heralding the arrival of his napkin. “Also, I have a blessing to do next week in Bristol, I believe it's your turn."
"Gullible. Bristol. Tongues." Obviously his mind had broken, Crowley decided, and his reset button was currently out of reach.
"Hm, I do believe I'll get you that water, after all,” Aziraphale decided. “Don't wander off, who knows what might happen if you start babbling about tongues to a human all willy nilly. Ta!"
Crowley watched the angel make his way to the service table, leaning in what Crowley thought was entirely too close to the young man in his quest for water. Revenge, he decided abruptly. He was a demon being taunted by a reckless, impudent angel and this would not stand. There would have to be revenge for this and he’d begin planning quite soon.
Right after he watched Aziraphale finish his cake.
-finis
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veilkeeper · 1 year ago
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Kira the Cat: Come to pay your respects to the real lady of the house, I see. What a clever creature you are! It's your lucky day. I am receiving compliments at this time, and you are most welcome to make an offering. Roz: Your paws are fit to overturn only the daintiest crystalware. Kira the Cat: Sometimes a lady has to make her presence known - delicately, of course.
man this game knows how to write cats.
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oaktaro · 11 days ago
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The Horror Game Genre's transition to the 1980s
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When you’d look up Teknon Kogyo’s Dracula Hunter, non-English sources tend to list it as having a 1980 release while English tend to cite it as having a 1979 release—except for one I found listing it as 1980 with an accompanying picture of a Japanese advertisement referring to it as a 1979 game! I guess people want to be doubly sure if it counts as a 70’s game or an 80’s game.
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Dracula Hunter – 1979 – cabinet Dracula Hunter is a game that caught my eye almost 10 years ago and has stuck in my mind for its striking visuals paired with sound design that never left my head. The well-done animated horde of “Draculas” scattering from a manner like insects. You, attempting to protect the laying body of someone donning a white dress by hurling crucifixes like boomerangs, which makes the sound I hear when just seeing an image of this game! While vampires, especially named Dracula, were already a trope of horror games, the way these animate always reminded me of my favorite kind of vampire, the Chinese hopping vampire, stiff from rigor mortis to the point that they moon hop at you in an unnatural feeling yet distinct manner. This type of vampire is not something I see in many games! It also feels like I rarely see this game’s awesome mechanic of enemies being able to dynamically turn innocents in gameplay, having you face an outbreak in real time! There are yellow Draculas worth 10 points, pink Draculas worth 20, and red worth 30, but what I truly look out for… are the bats whose score is listed as a mystery! While juggling all of this, you might want to consider attacking the vampires’ nest by timing a good hurl when the doors open, causing it to explode! I like this game, but maybe I’m in the minority because it’s grown so rare that it’s now considered lost media, last being spotted at an auction in 2018, but there are many unofficial home versions made so we could get as close as we can to experiencing the gameplay. People also always bring up the shmup someone made for Dezaemon 2, called Dracula Buster, that uses its assets. It can be humorous to see the Dracula Hunter protagonist rapidly firing crucifixes.
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House of Usher – 1980 – Apple II, Atari 8-bit To shift gears to that home market back in 1980, the forward in the manual to Crystalware’s House of Usher calls the works of H.P. Lovecraft and Edgar Allan Poe the inspirations to their work. This game is, of course, based on Poe’s 1839 work “The Fall of the House of Usher,” which detailed its protagonist receiving a letter from his best friend, Rodrick Usher, requesting his presence. Rodrick has grown ill. Upon going, the protagonist does what he can to help but ultimately watches the mysterious illness deteriorate the members of the house of Usher. The game itself has you explore the puzzle-filled mansion infested with enemies from humanoids to man-sized spiders! It also seems to add its own lore to the mansion to think about outside of the giant crab. There are multiple ways to beat this game. You can solve the mystery detailed in its manual, which offers a $100 prize to the first person who can solve it, or maybe you just want to see how much in-game money’s worth of valuables you can rob the Ushers of while they are down on their luck. Apart from having gradually draining stamina acting as a constant time ticking down, there is also an in-game time that ends the game at 6 A.M. to score you, with the game starting at 6 P.M. I’d say it’s about a minute per second of real-world time, but combat interrupts the rate at which time moves. I’m assuming the combat is turn-taking, but with a time limit that is so short, it feels like extremely laggy real-time combat. It must consider enemies more agile than you because they normally seem to be able to move 2 or 3 steps before you can take your next with us not being able to move or do anything while each other is taking their steps. If I fire, it seems, neither of us can move until that shot connects with something, and the clock seems to stop when they are taking their turn while in-game time progresses while you take your turn, which equates to 1 minute in-game or 1 second passing in real life when you take your turn while no time passes during their turn, which can feel as long as 3 real-world seconds at times. I never thought I’d say this, but doing turn-based combat like this is so fast that it feels slow because it feels like real-time combat where you are just lagging compared to the enemy. It’s not like the average person is going to strategize in a turn with a 1-second time limit, so it just feels like real-time combat where you can’t move or do anything for 2 seconds every time 1 second passes. I love the idea of exploring this mansion while managing limited resources like ammo to combat enemies that are in different places every run. You’re not sure what you’ll run into in each room, every run. Like other survival horror games, this game is structured in a way that would be fun to replay and do runs of if the combat didn’t feel as it does. This would quickly evolve, though.
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The Forgotten Island – 1981 – Atari 8-bit The Forgotten Island (later re-released as Escape From Vulcan’s Isle in 1982) is always the first game that pops in my head when thinking of 20th-century open-world games. It’s another Crystalware game with that House of Usher movement, but it feels so much faster with you and the enemy each taking your turn in about half a second, which eliminates the feeling that you’re waiting to get control back, and instead of firing and repositioning with large amounts of health in House of Usher, combat in The Forgotten Island is done like a slot machine where, when you touch an enemy, it starts flashing numbers with you hitting the button to stop it and get whatever number of damage you landed on. This is the game designing more around the fact that you’re not moving with enough fluidity for firing and repositioning to feel too satisfying. It also feels much better to have this vaster open nature to feel like you’re dynamically running into enemies with the camera scrolling with you instead of entering the isolated rooms of House of Usher’s mansion that needed to load individually, though I can see a tension in thinking about what will be in the next room during each door loading. For The Forgotten Island, I always know it as the game that can put you a little more on edge when getting the notification that an enemy is nearby since it often initially happens when an enemy is off-screen, though overstaying its welcome by continuing to stop you from moving to notify you that an enemy is nearby when it is on-screen. That’s when it starts to feel like House of Usher’s issue…
so let's go fast paced!
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Berzerk - 1980 Nov – cabinet Berzerk’s focus was purely on fighting through rooms of electrified walls and fully voiced robots that was apparently a sound chip meant to help the visually impaired, but the game designer Alan McNeil thought it sounded robotic and fit right into his game’s setting. Interesting to me is a review from the time that called the movement and aiming being tied to the same stick a setback. I can easily see how the game would be easier with a more twin-stick setup like Wester Gun had. Berzerk is said to be an inspiration to Robotron: 2084 that went twin stick, but I might like it more as it is for Berzerk specifically with you not being able to run in the opposite direction that you are shooting. Berzerk is brought up to this day as a cultural touchstone of horror games, thanks in no small part to its pursuer enemy, Evil Otto. You see, in arcades, you gotta keep the game moving because other people want to use the machine, so once a player clears a room, you could introduce a timer that picks a room to teleport the player to if they don’t pick one themselves, but that would rob them of their player agency, so why not introduce something that puts a fire under them? An unstoppable enemy named Evil Otto after McNiel’s former coworker, Nutting Associates’ security manager, Mr. Otto with no shortage of tales detailing how he was mean to Berzerk’s designer who combined this distaste with the imagery of the stereotypical “have a nice day” smiley face you may recognize from plastic bags that has quite the history itself. Going from a symbol of rebellious peace before quickly becoming a symbol of oppression, with Berzerk’s designer, seeing it as a display of fake righteousness with Evil Otto being what he really thought of it, feigning concern to someone as you beat them down. It’s such masterfully fitting imagery for the oppressive tone of the game. The VCS version fleshes Berzerk’s setting out to be the planet Mazeon, where you touched down to find it dark and uninhabitable before your ship is destroyed by the Automazeons led by Evil Otto. While you can argue that enemies like Dracula in Adventure International’s The Count are earlier examples of pursuer enemies in horror games, Evil Otto is the first big one that I see regularly brought up. My favorite detail is that the particle effect of enemies blowing up subtly forms his face, though it’s not so subtle in the VCS version. That version also doesn’t have to worry about getting players off an arcade cabinet quickly, allowing them to offer difficulty modes where there is no Otto or where he can be temporarily downed like he can in the sequel, Frenzy, where you can face multiple Ottos at once in destructible environments. Berzerk is also involved in what is often the earliest video game-related death people have heard of. I’ve seen early ones detailed, and to be clear, that’s video game related deaths—not saying it was the sole cause, but nonetheless, the news of an 18-year-old going into cardiac arrest while playing Berzerk led to urban legends of the horror of the arcade cabinet, still shared, sparking fear, to this day. I’ve heard someone describe Evil Otto as being on the other end of Pac-Man, which is a funny way to think about it and can make you realize the interesting coincidence that Pac-Man, released about 4 months earlier, also birthed an iconic yellow orb mascot in a pursuer game of blue hallways… Now that I think about it… Pac-Man’s primary ghost antagonists make it horror-themed… Maybe it shouldn’t be too often glanced over when talking about the history of pursuer horror. There are games people consider horror that are Pac-Man variants, like Monster-Man for the VC 4000, so let’s give credit where it’s due.
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Mystery House – 1980 May 5th – Apple II I’ve gotten into games bearing the Sierra logo over the years and was surprised to find people mentioning their start in video games was a successful horror game in 1980. The company was apparently founded shortly before by a couple to create business software, or at least that’s what Ken Williams thought before his wife Roberta, who found herself deep into video games, wanted to make one with him, which sold so well they instead became a video game company! Mystery House was inspired by the novel And Then There Were None, about 10 people being invited to an island where there are 10 figures on a dining room table and a rhyme about 10 people meeting their ends, framed in their rooms—when a record plays… stating the date that each of them took someone’s life. They begin getting picked off, mirroring the rhyme with a figure disappearing from the table each time, causing them to infight over who the perpetrator is. Now you know to try to eat a sweetroll from the plate each time you strike in the Oblivion quest “Whodunit?”. In the Williams’ game, you are one of 8 people in a house being picked off, trying to figure out who is doing it before you’re next! Roberta apparently found the game suffered from a linear structure before looking to the mystery-solving board game, Clue, helped her escape this. After Ken proposed they add pictures, Roberta essentially drew the entire game so the player would always have something to look at. The pictures might seem odd in how un-rounded they are. I've seen it said that the VersaWriter tablet used to draw them was meant more for drawing graphs and diagrams before later advertising and expanding it to be used for drawing things like faces and animations. I've not been able to find any material for the VersaWriter that predates Mystery House to know for sure but it definitely advertises that you use it to draw faces, people, and even offers and expansion for animations after Mystery House. Either way it was about half the price of the official Apple II drawing tablet! Many people view this game as causing a fork in the road where text adventures continued down their path while this game opened up a new path of point-and-click games seen as a further evolution of these graphical adventure games. There’s a charm to both the original and redrawn art in the 1983 release by Starcraft (the company, not the RTS). I interpret Mystery House to be from the perspective of your eyes, making this game first-person to me, which would be a perspective you’d see a lot more of during the 1980s.
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The Rise of First-Person Games You know, a common misconception is that 3D computer graphics came after Pong when they go back to at least the 1960s, often in the form of Wireframe 3D, where you only render something’s outlines on a blank background. This was useful for conveying depth, which would come in handy for VR in the 1960s. Yeah, it was around. Imagine wearing a VR headset where each lens is a cathode-ray tube. Don’t worry, the tubes jutted out to the sides instead of weighing your head forward. By the early 1970s, the earliest currently known traditional online competitive first person shooter, Maze War, was being played nationwide over the Arpanet which was already being called the internet by this point. I specify traditional because people debate whether this game got its online update before Spasim, which was a first-person shooter spaceship game where 32 players were let loose in a big space map to manage their own ships and fight each other. It was Maze War, however, that made me realize just how un-simple Wireframe graphics can be because the game determines which lines to no longer show when they are supposed to be behind a solid surface from your perspective. I would later read a VR document from the 60s about how they made 3D environments to be inside, where they mentioned not being able to find a solution to make the lines disappear based on the angle you’re viewing them from. Of course, by the 1970s, you already had first-person games like Escape with solid-colored surfaces, but many first-person games of the 1980s would still sport that Akalabeth style of white lines on a black background. In Frank Corr’s Rat’s Revenge for the TRS80 in 1980, you play as a rat trying to navigate a maze for cheese before starving, even having the possibility of getting to the point of hallucinating the cheese and in Deathmaze 5000 for the TRS80 or Apple II, you will do the same… as a human, looking for the exit in a 5 story building of maze-like hallways with monsters, puzzles, and traps before you starve. Wielding torches, you’ll need to keep at least one lit, lest you fall victim to the pitch black of the windowless building. This labyrinth is beyond me. It truly is the Backrooms experience. The same year, Frank would team up with William Denman, who is the author of Reality Ends (also 1980), a text game where every single step you take is a different parallel universe with you seeking a way to fight Baldir across its multiverse. William and Frank would team up to bring this rival aspect to Deathmaze 5000 with a game appropriately called Labyrinth, which plays and looks the same, but instead of escaping being the focus… it would be the battle of who gets who between you and the minotaur.
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3D Monster Maze – 1981 – ZX81 In October of 1980, SoftSide magazine published Joel Mick’s Monster Maze, which was a top-down game where the player maps out a maze to find an exit while trying not to run into the monster, but you may be more familiar with a later, first-person version of this game made by someone else. Half a year later, a Malcolm Evans would receive a ZX81 for his birthday and wanted to see what it could do. He made a maze to explore, initially in 2D before changing it to a first person perspective. You can move left, right, and forward but not back, which doesn’t seem uncommon for the time. A John Greye from his Bristol folk music club is credited with recommending he add a pursuer enemy, to which Malcolm looked to a kids book and decided to draw a T. Rex. As he put it, he was making the game graphics first. As you get close, it will notice and become more active in searching for you, darting right for you if you’re in its line of sight. With an absence of sound denoting the T. Rex’s position from you, text at the bottom of the screen serves the role of your hearing (and ironically was added to ease the tension). He also added the story that you decided to take on this Nightmare Park-esque carnival attraction of trying to navigate a maze with a live T. Rex in it, warning you to enter at your own risk. Malcolm Evans had essentially made a first-person version of Monster Maze and appropriately landed on the name 3D Monster Maze, being told it’s good enough to sell. It seemed to initially be released in 1981 under Greye’s company, J.K. Greye Software, before being re-released in 1982 when Malcolm started his own company, New Generation Software. This seems to sometimes cause confusion about when the game’s initial release was. It looks most like a colorless version of 1978’s Maze Game, which was purely about exploration with you being able to access your map at all times, see your footprints, and there’s even a compass but no pursuer enemy. Now, 3D Monster Maze isn’t the first horror game. It’s not the first 3D or first-person game, and I wouldn’t even consider it a survival horror game because you can’t become the hunter, but people call it the first because it’s the earliest one they know of at the time and will call whatever is the earliest that they happen to know of, the first one to ever be made. They’re more likely to hear back to 3D Monster Maze because it’s such a timeless game. It’s a much more simplified version of its predecessors, like Labyrinth, and having that level of ease to get into it is probably why horror games like it are still made to this day, making 3D Monster Maze a recognizable form factor to people viewing it as like the later horror games they grew up with. Evans would continue to make games, including Corridors of Genon in 1983, where you attempt to take on a rogue AI and now can hear footsteps! He’d also make a top-down version of 3D Monster Maze, called Escape, where the maze is completely revealed at all times, unlike Joel Mick’s Monster Maze. Top-down games still have their advantages!
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Godzilla – 1980 Apr? – PET/CBM Years before Sim City would debut with a kaiju on its cover to show off it's an RTS where you have to deal with such threats, the most iconic kaiju of them all, Godzilla (that Sim City was parodying), had his own game in a 1980 turn based strategy where you’re in charge of making sure the country survives such a horrifying threat! Organizing army, navy, and air force across the country, including decisions like missile strikes and nuking, with the game factoring in civilian and military loss as well as Godzilla possibly ending you yourself if he gets to the capital. Simplicity still tends to be the key when it comes to a novice to strategy games like myself, and this is a simple yet variable-filled game to run subsequently as a quick, neat little game on your computer.
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Crush, Crumble and Chomp! The Movie Monster Game – 1981 – Apple II, Atari 8-bit, TRS-80 I really like playing as the military in Godzilla games, but if you want to just play as the monster and wreak havoc, you’d be eating well in the 80s. The year after Godzilla’s game, Crush, Crumble and Chomp! The Movie Monster Game would give you the opposite perspective, having you control a variety of parodies of iconic giant monsters, including the ability to make your own to attempt to destroy Tokyo, New York City, the Bay Area including San Francisco and Oakland, and Washington D.C., but not without the people of these areas putting up a fight, including the scientists racing to discover something to vanquish you. The need to eat can radically affect your strategies and willingness to risk putting yourself in harm's way to avoid losing control of your monster when being too hungry makes them go berserk! You can, however, play as giant robots who don’t need to worry about hunger. You’d think they’d just replace hunger with worrying about power, but perhaps they are meant to be a novice's entry point. I find this game to have an impressive amount of detail, like Goshilla’s footsteps being radioactive like they were in Godzilla’s debut movie, making a wall of danger anywhere you walked, but with so much complexity in a turn-based game, it feels like a complex board game that you might not have the patience to learn but is such a cool concept that maybe you’ll be willing to learn. These kinds of games including a more real-time version of this game simply titled The Movie Monster Game for the C64 in 1986, which the original Crush, Crumble and Chomp would have been ported to by that point.
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Conclusion on the 1980s While the 1970s is credited with much when it comes to video games, the 1980s are often seen as an even more iconic era that was a refinement of the 70s, where video games becoming mainstream attracted tons of companies to all jump in, skyrocketing the bar of expectation. The 80's was not video game's adolescence. It was the video game industry's adulthood where it was in the form that it is still in to this day from online subscriptions to the format of game's journalism with eyes of various intents looking at the industry that surpassed Hollywood. How does a young 20-year-old in the 1980s follow up the greats of their childhood like Pong, Breakout, and Space Invaders, while veteran companies are putting out even more leaps forward in this packed market? I know video games have been taught in school since at least the early 1950s, but I imagine the leap in popularity of the home market in the 70's and focusing more on the video part of arcade cabinets' construction opened the floodgates for video games in the 80s to have a lot more milk for the cream to go through before making it to the top.
and if none of the horror games I’ve mentioned are your taste… then I have something really scary for you…
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Playful Professor: Math Tutor – 1980 – TRS-80 Playful Professor: Math Tutor is a game about being trapped in a haunted clown castle where the only way to escape is to solve MATH EQUATIONS!
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yamariiii · 2 years ago
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junkologistsgoods · 3 days ago
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Tupperware Crystal Wave Set of 3 - Lunch n' Dish Bowls with Vented Lids
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liam-twatter · 10 months ago
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welcome to Monaco, the most boring Gp. Yes it's the hardest circuit (because of walls etc, but crashes shouldn't be fun) as an elephant driving in a crystalware (that's why overrated Hamilton took 9 years for a pole driving fast cars). At least it should be a weekend without pathetic Vettel, but will they stop using Senna to get attention / money? If you've been there you should know, low quality fashion shows, terrible food, and overpriced (hey but it's from Le Café de Paris! ...f*ck off), old women sucking millionaire d*cks on yachts, no wonder the unhappy princess tried many times to escape. I knew one of them "blue blood" hypocrites, used to say she would've married a poor worker, but oh how unlucky she only found a poor non-worker from Montecarlo... Obviously the media go : "never disappoints", "heartache"... wtf...
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aspergillosis · 2 months ago
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Looking around at all the boat photos around and finally really understanding what they mean to my parents. I didn't really think of this element to it but my sailing is allowing me to really understand my own family a lot better. Sitting in the dining room looking at all our crystalware and finally, finally understanding fully how we wound up with all of it. Lol my family has better taste + stuff than my current owner.
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merrock · 1 year ago
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event: The Royal Gala
location: Pine Grove Gardens
date & time: January 20, 2024, 4PM EST
ooc duration: January 18-24, 2024
Welcome, one and all, to the Royal Gala! Held at the Pine Grove Gardens in the countryside of Merrock, guests should arrive on January 20th between three and four PM EST to have their formal portrait taken in the rose garden (built in a beautiful greenhouse) before the event begins.
Ushered inside, you will find that the mansion at Pine Grove Gardens has been decked out for royalty -- richly colored drapes in every window, fine crystalware for dinner and drinks, a live band in the ball room for dancing, sparkling chandeliers light the way. Dinner is served in the dining hall, catered by the fine folks at Overlook, with drinks found at the bar in the lounge all evening.
Feel free to explore the Pine Grove Garden Mansion, but please be respectful: this building is rich with the history of Merrock. The historical society has put a lot of work into keeping the place pristine, and money raised this evening will go back into their efforts to preserve and further study the history of Merrock.
Remember: the dress code for the event is formal. Those choosing to wear dresses should stick with long dresses and ball gowns, and those slipping into suits and ties should keep them as formal as possible. Deck yourself our in jewels, crowns, carry a sceptre, do what you need to do to feel and look extravagant.
Treat yourself like royalty this evening, Merrockites.
IMPORTANT INFORMATION TO KEEP IN MIND:
threads may be started any time between January 18th and 24th; they may be continued as long as you would like after, as long as they were started within that time frame.
you do not need to pause/drop existing threads. if you choose to, please communicate this with your writing partners!
when creating open starters, remember our rule about only posting one per day -- this goes by player, not character. space them out so everyone has the chance to get replies. (and please reply to existing starters before creating your own.)
if you participate in the thread roulette (located in the ooc), do so fairly. failure to do so will result in your comment being deleted from the game.
when posting plot calls in the ooc in general, be sure you are also commenting on other plot calls, and/or reaching out to those people. ignoring others while expecting them to come to you is not the vibe!
all outfits should be posted to #merrockfashion and will be queued to post on the event day! the queue will be randomized, so don't fret if you see things go up out of order.
additionally, social media posts can be shared to #merrocksocial and will be reblogged to the Times after they are posted.
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