#farset

[vaya-writes]

The Wyvern's Bride - Part 3.5

When Adalyn gets sacrificed to the local wyvern, she’s a little annoyed and a lot terrified. Upon meeting the wyvern, she discovers that he’s not particularly interested in eating people, and mostly wants to be left alone. In a plot to save himself from the responsibilities his family keep pushing on him, Slate names Adalyn as his human Envoy, and tasks her with finding him a wife.

3000 words. Cis female human x Cis male wyvern (slow burn, arranged marriage, eventual smut). firefly-graphics did the divider.

Masterlist - Previous

No notable content warnings. Some mild descriptions of food. Perhaps some self worth and image issues from our dear wyvern. Enjoy Slate and Adalyn's first date :)

Adalyn waits until the following morning to pick up the book, too self-conscious to read about wyvern mating habits with Slate hovering around. The text is dry but contains a depth of knowledge she hadn’t even considered.  

Rin had marked out sections on pheromone production, courting and mating habits, and – more embarrassingly – reproductive organs and processes. 

Adalyn is drawn into the treatise, nearly missing her lunch with Slate, and almost jogging back up the Tower when they’re done. Glancing at the sky, she scowls before heading to the garden and ensuring her cuttings have been taken care of. She washes the dirt from her hands before returning to Slate’s chambers to read.  

Settled down in the pillowed nook tucked behind his bookshelves, she learns that female wyverns use colour changes and body language to indicate interest in a partner, and pheromones to indicate, among other things, sexual readiness. Most wyverns are sensitive to touch, making physical contact another important aspect of courting. 

The book offers occasional points of social commentary too, to supplement the biological details, and Adalyn learns of just how revered females can be in the hierarchy, and how frowned upon it is for males to approach them without the right signals.  

“Rin, you are a godsend,” Adalyn murmurs.  

Before dinner she opens the wardrobe and looks over her options. Hope and anxiety battle for dominance in her chest as she starts planning for tomorrow’s outing. 

--- 

Adalyn and Slate walk side by side through the forest, boots crunching against detritus and stone. Her belted tunic is a pale green; a colour akin to Slate’s blush and intended to be sweet and disarming. Useful, according to her research, but on the milder side of wyvern signalling.  

Stray hairs that have escaped her coronet tickle her cheeks in the breeze. Adalyn breathes in deep, enjoying the forest air. Her arm brushes Slate’s as they follow an old trail towards some underbrush. 

Slate points out various animal tracks and leavings and identifies several bird calls. Most of the information he shares means nothing to Adalyn – especially the bird related tangents he goes on – but she’s reminded again that the wyvern contains a depth of knowledge, apparently pertaining to more than just construction and craft. 

“Do you see that there? Those are blackberry seeds,” Slate points to some bird droppings, splattered down a tree trunk. 

She raises her brows. “How do you even know? How much time have you spent going through animal leavings to learn this stuff?” 

“I had a phase probably two decades back.” He winces. 

She bumps his shoulder. “Don’t worry. It’s more interesting than weird. Barely, though.” 

The pair have a basket each, Slate carrying their lunch and blanket, and Adalyn with an empty pack for foraging. They make a day of it while they hike, with Slate showing Adalyn a handful of ways to set snares, pointing out a small waterway with the glimmer of fish inside, and helping her pick out some edible greens. They talk as they walk. 

“You know where I’m from. What about you? Where did you live before here?” 

Slate pulls back a branch, letting Adalyn pass unscathed. “I lived with my grandmother on the Farset Peninsula. She had an estate on the outskirts of Rendcliff.” 

“I’d assumed your family wouldn’t want to live so close to human powers.” She ducks under his arm. 

“We’re one of the few clans who do. The Matron considers it good practice to build relations with different people and places. I’m probably one of the few family members who live in such a remote area.” 

They stumble across a handful of blackberry bushes, Slate grinning almost gloatingly. None of the berries on the outer layers are ripe, picked clean by birds, but there are several juicy looking handfuls deeper in the thorny tangle.  

Adalyn hesitates, but Slate rolls up his sleeves. His arms ripple with shadow as scales emerge along his forearms and the backs of his hands. He starts picking berries for her, safe from errant thorns and scrapes.  

“Do you prefer your human form?” she blurts. 

He freezes, following her line of sight to his arms. “Uh. Not always. It just- well, it looks better, does it not?” 

“Does it?”  

“Well, I can’t imagine the grey, and the horns, and the spines to be aesthetically pleasing to you.” 

Adalyn blinks. Impulsive curiosity morphs into a mix of concern and dread. 

“Slate, have you been in human form all this time because of me?” 

There’s a long silence as he searches for the right words. 

She crosses her arms, irritation suddenly spiking. “I appreciate if you’re trying to put me at ease, but did you consider that your demi form might not bother me?” 

He’s almost frozen, unable to meet her eyes. “Does it not?” 

“I don’t know, I’ve hardly seen you in it!” she lets out a sigh, and reigns in her exasperation.  

Another long silence. One that Adalyn is content to let stretch, for fear of yelling again. 

“W-” Slate starts. “Would you like to?” 

Some of the tension drains out of her. It’s not hard to smile, to look up through her lashes and meet his gaze. “Yes, Slate. I would.” 

He shrugs and looks away again, letting the shadows swirl over his form. She watches attentively as his weight shifts. She’s not entirely sure if he grows in height, but he certainly seems bigger. It might just be the way his muscles adjust to hold the scales, the claws, the weight of his horns. His neck seems a little thicker, his shoulders wider. 

Finally, he stands before her, pallor ashen, skin dappled with plates of keratin, and silhouette modified. He glances between her face and his feet, seemingly waiting for a reaction.  

“Can I touch?” 

He nods, almost eager, then blushes. 

She steps into his space and looks over him. There’s not much she hasn’t seen before, honestly. It’s a little disconcerting seeing somebody in such a strange colour, and the horns definitely stand out. But they’re not ugly. 

She reaches up to tap one. “So, what are these for?” 

He looks away, demure. “They make it hard for larger creatures to swallow us.” 

“What’s larger than a wyvern?” she runs her finger along one of the lower horns, curving around to protect the back of his neck. 

“A dragon.” 

She nods, contemplatively. Then gestures that he turn. 

Slowly, he does.  

His coat sits differently, and Adalyn realises that it had hung lose around his shoulders. The length of his back is no longer flat, and she traces her finger along the new jagged shapes. 

“Spines?” 

He nods. 

“Are they supposed to scare me?” 

He shakes his head. “Same purpose as the horns.” 

When he faces her again, she takes his hand in her own. With surprise, she looks down at his fingers, tipped slightly with claws. “I could have sworn these were longer.” 

Shadows coalesce once more, lengthening his claws, and she watches with fascination as he wriggles his fingers; now each a deadly weapon. “My demi form is a bit malleable. I can make the spines come and go. Or the claws longer. Others can summon a tail. And I know dragons can use wings in their demi form too.” 

With his sleeves rolled up she has access to his forearms, and drags her finger along the edge of his scales. They’re cooler than his skin. “They’re pretty.” She doesn’t look at his face or notice his cheeks going verdant as she feels them, keeled and textured on the back of his arms, but flatter and smoother the closer they get to his skin.  

She drops his arm and looks up at him again. “Thank you.” 

He nods, at a loss for words. 

“Shall we break for lunch?” 

Relieved at having something to do, Slate finds a spot to lay the blanket, and starts setting out the food. Adalyn takes stock of their forage and sits with him, stretching out her legs. She ignores most of the prepared lunch in favour of the blackberries.  

“If I had enough of these I could make tarts. Or jam. Or a pie.” The thought doesn’t stop her from eating half the berries they’d collected. 

Slate smiles, slowly losing some of his previous tension. He sprawls back on the picnic blanket. “There’ll be more tomorrow.” 

Adalyn watches Slate throw a berry into the air. It arcs neatly into his mouth. Her eyes linger on his lips a moment longer before she pulls them away, cheeks warming. 

“What did you do at the Matron’s estate? What was the place like?” 

His nose crinkles. “Busy. There was always someone visiting. Family, or foreign dignitaries. There were meetings, or parties, or some event or another on nearly every day. And I was expected to attend all of them. Even if I had no interest or say in the proceeds.” 

“Because you’re male?” 

“And young. I was a fledgling when the Matron took me in. I attended those events for centuries before anyone would hear my opinion.” 

“Why go, then?” 

He shrugs. “Like I told you. My grandmother was grooming me for a leadership position.” 

The words tug at her memory. The Matron had said something during the trials. Something she’d completely forgotten in favour of pressing matters. 

“Are you her heir?” 

He looks at Adalyn sharply, eyes widened. “When- how did you... Yes.” 

Adalyn frowns. “You make it sound like a problem.” 

He stares down at his food, face falling in shadow. “It’s not a popular decision. I’m not sure if anyone will accept it when Matron passes.” After a beat he corrects himself. “That’s a lie. I know it will cause a schism.” 

Adalyn considers the situation. She hasn’t seen the matriarchy in full force, nor has she seen Slate’s family berate and badger him the way he claims they do. But if the situation is as severe as he’s led her to believe... yes, it wouldn’t be a surprise if his leadership was contested. Especially if the Matron dies and is unable to enforce the change.  

Do wyverns abdicate? Or do they relinquish their titles at death? It would be a key difference in deciding Slate’s rule. Without the Matron’s ongoing support, Slate’s succession would be an uphill battle. He’d need to make friends. Make an effort to please his family.  

Adalyn opens her mouth to ask, but one look at his expression tells her that he’s considered all of this before. At length. 

She resolves to make him feel better. And if there’s nothing she can say to console or encourage him, she can at the very least distract him. Adalyn shakes off the topic and throws a berry in the air. Attempts to catch it. Fails.  

“What did you do for fun?” 

After a few moments his muscles loosen. He relaxes back on the blanket, staring up at the canopy. At the clouds overhead, barely peeking through. 

“I liked going into the city. Visiting the markets or the craft quarter. Sometimes I’d sneak into the university lectures. Eventually I was sensible enough to enrol. I spent some years studying. Architecture. Engineering. Philosophy. That one was boring. I followed some of the artisans around until they apprenticed me out of frustration. Or amusement. The university library was a favourite haunt. Maybe I could show you one day.” 

Adalyn lays beside him and listens to tales of his forays into the city. His descriptions of the streets and the buildings. Of the food and drink, the people and music, the festivals and wares. So relaxed, she is, that she dozes off, halfway through a story about a horse thief and a chase through the streets.  

“Adalyn.” 

She stirs, rubbing the drowsiness from her eyes. “Sorry. You were saying?” 

“Shall we head back to the Tower?” 

She sits up. Stretches. Yawns. “Sure. I’m tired enough.” 

They pack up and Slate flies them to his quarters. He hesitates at the balcony, having deposited her gently, but not landed.  

I’m going to go back to work. Thank you for today. I had a good time. 

Adalyn hides her disappointment. She’d been enjoying her time with the wyvern, and the flight had banished some of her fatigue. “Of course. So did I. Thank you for sharing with me.” 

He hesitates, as if pondering something else to say, before shaking himself and leaving. 

With the sun starting to set, and not wanting to trek to the kitchen and back by torchlight, Adalyn decides to set up in the Tower. She washes and cooks their foraged vegetables and sets aside the rest of their spoils to deal with tomorrow. 

After a bath she takes her time choosing her sleep wear. With all the clothing she’d received as wedding gifts, she finds she has many options to choose from. And while at first, she’d considered clothing to be an impersonal and standard fare gift, looking at them closer reveals their alternative uses. She notes the repeating themes in colours; greens, blues, and deep greys, and recognises the consideration some of her in-laws must have taken in choosing their gifts.  

She’s used to sleeping in her chemise – it's simple, short sleeved, thin. Many of the new clothes are quite different from her modest tastes, and Adalyn wonders if she should push the bounds of her comfort zone tonight. 

There are chemises woven from silk and satin. Woollen drawers and shirts for cold weather. Things made from lace and gossamer, with open backs and plunging necklines, things that barely cover her thighs. Thankfully they’re not all coloured. There are still familiar whites and greys.  

She finds herself wishing for attractive reds and pinks. It’d certainly be less daunting trying to seduce somebody wearing colours she knows are effective on human men.  

Feeling exploratory, but still cautious, Adalyn chooses one of the undyed silken chemises. It’s shorter than her old one, just brushing the tops of her knees, and the neckline plunges enough to reveal her collar bones. With the decision made, lets out a deep breath and sits back on the chaise, donning a matching dressing gown and pulling out the treatise to read while she waits for Slate.  

He returns before the night grows late, and she greets him with a warm smile at the table. He’s damp, and his clothes cling to his skin, but Adalyn lets herself stare a little as she notes his demi form. On the other hand, he can hardly meet her eyes, conversation stilted. 

It’s not a reaction she’d been hoping for.  

Perhaps today had been too much. Or the outfit too suggestive. If she’s lucky, he’s just self-conscious, sitting in his second form. But the tension still makes her nervous.  

After she eats, she washes her hands and face before crawling into bed with a sigh. Slate stokes the hearth and puts out the torches before migrating towards the screened off area. Eventually he emerges in clean clothes and sinks down onto the lounge. 

She keeps her eyes to herself, but burns to prolong the evening. To try again. Torn between pushing too hard, and not hard enough. 

“How’s the chaise?” 

For a moment he’s silent. “A bit too firm. Perhaps I should order a new one.” 

“It’s not really designed for sleeping on.” 

“Mm,” he agrees. 

She pauses again, weighing her words. Deciding how far to push. 

“We could swap for a few nights?” 

“Nonsense. I’ve slept in worse places.” 

She swallows.  

“We could share?” 

There’s a long silence, before Slate replies in a measured tone. “I don’t think I’d be a good host if I were to impose on your space like that.” 

For a moment she feels the sting of rejection. Then she frowns. No. She hadn’t even tried, not really. If she’s going to be rejected again, it had better be crystal clear.  

She sits up. “You’re not my host. You’re my husband. And husbands usually share their beds with their wives. At least in human culture. Do wyvern’s act differently?” 

She thinks she hears his breath hitch but isn’t sure. 

“It’s... it varies from couple to couple.” He pauses, taking his time to formulate a response. “I don’t want to make any presumptions. I’d hate to make you uncomfortable.” 

She feels a twinge of sympathy. “Listen, Slate. I’m not used to taking the lead with these things. I don’t want to overstep either. And if I do, please, please tell me, so I can back off. And know I’ll do the same in turn. But you cannot overstep my bounds if you don’t take any steps.” 

Another silence from the wyvern. 

She starts rambling, suddenly embarrassed by her outburst, and desperate to ignore it. “This bed is the size of my old bedroom.” An exaggeration. But not by much. “The only way you could possibly make me uncomfortable is if you were to shift into your wyvern form during your sleep.” 

There’s a snort. And a pause before he replies, voice hoarse. “Are you sure?” 

“Completely.” She doesn’t let the doubt creep into her words. She hadn’t felt any before; is only hesitating now because of Slate making such a large deal. 

“Okay.” 

She watches his silhouette rise from the chaise. Her daring leaves her when he approaches the bed, words emptying from her head. Thankfully the lights are low enough to hide her blush. She lies back down as Slate climbs under the covers, taking extra care not to jostle her. The pair face each other, eyes open. 

With the apparent staring competition, Adalyn suddenly regrets inviting him. Just a little. She lets out a sigh with a wry smile, and closes her eyes, working hard to ignore the large presence beside her. 

“Goodnight, Adalyn.” 

His fingers brush her own.  

She flinches with surprise, before relaxing, and gripping Slate’s hand. 

“Goodnight dearest.”

Next

[writernopal]

Happy WBW! What are some significant events in your world’s history? Did they have lasting consequences?

Happy (very late) WBW, Kraken!

I answered something like that here about the Savanic Clash of 506AD as well as a bit of the aftermath here. But I'll talk about the Holtepian Civil War for this one!

For this, we kind of need to backtrack a tiny bit and understand the political climate of the Empire at the time. Emperor Quetza, the current ruler of the Empire, was making some less-than-stellar moves according to some of his subjects. This because he pushed back against the popular opinion of annexing the neutral island of Taltan (can be seen on the map here).

For a bit more context, Taltan is mainly a traveling outpost and the last stop before entering the Ofler's Sea to reach the Ironsong Hold. There are other ships (besides Dwarven ones) that make port there which means that if you try to take the island, it can easily be seen as an act of war on any and all of the kingdoms/empires that happen to be docked there at the time. Not a smart move esp if the Pale Kingdom happens to be making use of it.

Despite this, there were still some Lizardfolk who disagreed, the most vocal of which was the Major Clan Iftam of the House of War. Everything came to a head during the ikismal ceremony of the Emperor's fourth clutch of children when Lord Faranx (clan leader of Clan Iftam) spit on the Emperor's hand instead of kissing it in fealty like he was supposed to and attempted to stab him. Lord Haphrex (yeah, you read that right, grandma's bf!) of the Major Clan Oleander of the House of War, rushed to his defense, narrowly saving the Emperor, but the damage was done.

The country was divided with clans allying themselves to one cause or the other and the bloodshed began. It has been cited as the bloodiest war in the Empire's history, culminating with the defeat of the insurgent forces of Clan Iftam at the Battle of Farset. The winning battle party was led by none other than our boy Wilkes (as mentioned here) which earned him the title Son of the Moon and his renowned fame. Following this defeat, the Emperor stripped Clan Iftam of lands, titles, wealth, clanship, and scalepicked the traitor Lord Faranx until he died of shock. This also heralded in the Golden Age of Clan Oleander, which eventually led to the establishment of a certain Lizardfolk pirate vessel that is central to AASOAF's plot...

[thesoundunique]

🎼 farset - Zoom 1.1 🎶

[citizen69]

Crossing the ancient ford at the Lagan and Farset. This painting by JW Carey commissioned in 1906 by the Ulster Hall depicts a scene before Belfast existed. It is set in the 1520s and shows Irish mercenaries crossing the Lagan at its most accessible point. The only thing that existed there at that time was a small medieval chapel that people who came to cross the river could use. Less than one hundred years later, with the Plantation of Ulster, the town of Belfast would be born. Within another hundred years of that the town would be the biggest population centre in Ulster.

[dailyadventureprompts]

Dungeon:  From my Cold, Dead, Hands

In summer a debt, in winter a due

Synopsis: Forty years ago some unknown disaster struck the harbor city of Ferset, locking the bay solid  with ice, wrapping the city in glacial walls, and shrouding the surrounding countryside in eternal winter. Trade was entirely cut off, and the populace was forced to find homes elsewhere as climate refugees. Now something is stirring within the iced-over city, something that wields the power to upset the seasons and still the very sea itself. 

Adventure Hooks: 

A letter has arrived at the court of the party’s noble patron bearing the crest of the Barthelemy family, the hereditary rulers of Farset who were long thought to have perished when their city was engulfed in ice. The letter demands the party’s patron honor historic agreements between their houses, and makes vague overtures about the marriageability of several of the noble’s female relations. Not wanting to indulge a fraud or sell off their family out of obligation, the patron sends the party out to the frozen city to investigate these claims, though doing so will be more of a wilderness excursion than diplomatic mission. 

Tracking what at first appeared to be a gang of slavers leads the party to the interior of the frozen bay, where the outlaws have established a fortified camp and are forcing their captives to tunnel down into the ice. Investigation reveals that their aim is a sunken ship that was previously too deep for salvage divers to ever reach, and that they’re taking advantage of the improbable weather to excavate it 

For as long as the harbor has been abandoned, folk have been doing their best to salvage it, though less so in recent years as it’s said the place is now haunted by frigid spirits and other strange beasts who hunt any who trespass with.  The party inadvertently marks themselves out as prey for these wintery hunters after reclaiming some innocuous loot during their travels. They must return these items to the harbor, or else be stalked the rest of their days by icy predators and harrying squalls. 

Setup:  There’s a joke that’s told in poor taste, about how the frigid doom that befell Ferset was brought about by old King Boreas, head of the ruling Barthelemy family. The king was famous for battling pirates in his youth, and infamous in his later years for his many dalliances with servants, public figures, other nobles’ spouses, and just about any pretty face he could charm with wealth and bluster. The joke goes that the gods sent the frost to cool King Boreas’s raging libido, and the ensuing destruction was just a mark of how much cooling it took to check the old man’s appetites. 

There’s a shred of truth to this humorous cruelty, in that Ferset’s doom was indeed born of Boreas’s loins, and that of his court mage, Seki, who spared the king’s fleet from storms and harnessed winds to guide them on their way. She raised their son, Zephrex in her arts, but the boy was hungry for acknowledgement from his father, a man who commanded the respect of the court and populace alike, even despite his digressions. 

When Boreas died, the unacknowledged Zephrex made a play for the throne, and was struck down, screaming out the freezing curse with his dying breath.  No magic can lift it until that mage’s spirit is put to rest and his claim relinquished, but adventurers wandering into the dungeon looking to perform an exorcism can expect a very chilly welcome. Zephrex’s curse opened up a rift to the frigid realm of Karfell, a glacial demiplane of scarring winds and undead marauders, both of which now spill out to loot Ferset along with the planear predators attracted to such a cosmic wound. 

Challenges & Complications: 

While the party might be used to sailing about or adventuring overland, it’s less likely they’ll be prepared for exploring the icy ruin of Ferset, dealing with snowstorms, sub-zero temperatures, and the threat of urban avalanche. Supplies and keeping warm are going to be key to any successful delve within the city’s reaches, as the chill only seems to grow greater the deeper in you go. 

Though most of the city has been picked clean, great caches of wealth remain hidden behind frozen walls or buried under snowfall. A clever mind might be able to figure out where tehse caches may be, and how to reach them through the city’s hidden tunnels, if only they could get to the magistrate’s offices and look at the architectural plans. Problem is, the tower overlooking the office has been taken as a nest by a hungry ice-drake, who’s more than happy to snap up any civicly minded trespassers.

 Want to free the harbor from  Well you’ll need to find the resentful shade of Zephrex Barthelemy, who’s appointed himself the postmortem ruler of Ferset after all the other members of the clan were struck down by his death-curse. Zephrex wanted power, but ne never wanted to visit such destruction upon his home, and now labors to undo his curse without realizing that his own stubborn desire to hold onto power is what makes it endure. Perhaps the party can help him to figure it out, though they’ll have to work quick, the undead-raiders of Karfell are quite interested in taking the mage’s ghost hostage, as doing so will allow them to establish a permanent beachhead on the material plane. 

[keepitdreamin]

was working on the portrait of my little sister and dog and only realized after i put the dark lines that her eye was Way too farset so now she has a flesh colored eyepatch 😅

[another-bryk-in-the-wall]

Taking apart the new Outlast trailer & what we know

Thank God for Red Barrels and the fear they have caused me over the past few years. More than once I screamed in the dark, clutching my controller so hard my knuckles turned white. Outlast, Whistleblower and 2 have been the cause of so many nightmares - and I loved it. That’s why I am trying to analyse the latest teasers as good as possible, including my personal headcanons and so much more. I will take a lot of information off the Outlast Wiki, in case you want to check documents. Headcanons will be written in bold, official information in cursive.

Trigger warnings: it’s Outlast, the whole game series is one big trigger warning

What we know so far

Set in the era of the Cold War, human guinea pigs are involuntarily recruited by the good folks at the Murkoff Corporation to test advanced methods of brainwashing and mind control. In a world of distrust, fear, and violence, your morals will be challenged, your endurance tested, and your sanity crushed. All in the name of progress, science, and profit. - Steam description for Outlast Trials, 15.06.2020

The game is going to be set in the Cold War time, which had its peak in the 60s with the race to the moon. And you know who was also active during the Cold War? The first experiments surrounding the Walrider in Mount Massive. According to the Wiki, Mount Massive was opened up in 1967 and shut down in 1971 due to a problem with an unknown patient who had killed three scientists.

This is where my first headcanon comes in:

In the trailer, we see three scientists working on our character. Maybe our character is the reason why Mount Massive was shut down, killing the scientists from the trailer. 

What was going on in Outlast Trials, according to the information we have, is the project MKUltra. Project MKUltra was a program created by the Central Intelligence Agency for the purpose of researching and developing drugs and procedures for interrogation and mind control. Several of these procedures have been deemed illegal, particularly the ones that experimented on subjects without their knowledge or consent. In Outlast's universe, a branch of the program was established in the 50s and operated at the Mount Massive Asylum until its closure in the 70s and is also the focus point behind The Outlast Trials.

Which confirms the fact that Outlast Trials will be set in Mount Massive - if it revolves around MKUltra! Of course, there could be a lot of other problems and experiments happening in Outlast Trials, but since this one is established in canon, working on it would be a great option for Red Barrels to expand the lore and bring players back to Mount Massive.

Since it is pretty much canon that we will return to Mount Massive - what will we witness there?

The first “variant” has been confirmed by the trailers already - a tall man with ripped pants carrying around a hammer, which he later smashes us with. Nice.

But if we take a closer look at him…

Check out his head, his left arm and left leg. The device on his head looks similar to the device our character gets drilled into their head in the trailer. What’s on his left arm and leg could be a kind of ripped physical restraint. He is also extremely tall and skinny - my headcanon is, that he is a variant who had been starved and tortured by the staff at Mount Massive. The torture could have changed his physical appearance (becoming taller), which can also lead to terrible growth pain, another way of pain to make him go crazy. I am pretty sure this guy right here went mad because of the horror he had to undergo due to Project MKUltra and now is out for blood - I see similarities to Chris Walker here. He will play a big part in the game and the fear we are going to experience.

And now to our friend…

If you have seen one of my previous posts, you will know that I noticed our female alley having two different kind of death animations in the trailers. Why?

Another thing to point out - what is this thing on her chest?

At first I thought this was some suicide bomber thing, but that wouldn’t make sense at all. Is it some kind of battery for the night vision goggles? Is it similar to an electrocardiography to collect data? Heartbeat, saturation of oxygen in the lungs… everything would be useful for scientists. Note the black box on the left side - could be a big battery to keep the device running for a long time. Do we have to change batteries...

My headcanon here is that she is one of the playable characters - but one of the characters which is controlled in coop. That’s why she is friendly towards the character, but can die anyways.

All in all, the two trailers got me very excited for the game! I have high expectation for Red Barrels, and I am sure they will outdo themselves with blood, gore and horror. I cannot wait for 2021 and the horrors we can experience alone and in coop. 

Also one little thing at the end - the place from the trailers reminded me so much of the scene of Frank’s first chase, kinda made me feel homesick for Whistleblower.

[cham-p-on]

Shadows & Scarlet (2/2)

Part : [1] 2

Pairing/s: AcrixBridget {Fairytale Enchantress/Timeless Fairytales}

Genre/AU: AU!Angel-Chosen-Amnesia (by Rakel/Emarynn), Romance, Drama/Hurt, Fluff/Comfort

Bridget was about to cross the borders of Farset when a gleam in the dark caught her eye, followed by the cold gust of wind that caused her teeth to chatter. She pulled on her mount’s reins, throwing her hood back as she slid off the saddle.

“Show yourself!”

Her eyes narrowed into slits as she carefully observed her dark surroundings, her red cloak billowing against the wind. Her hands reached down where she strapped a dagger to her side. From the bushes, she noticed a pair of red eyes looking at her.

“Do wolves even have red eyes?” Bridget muttered when a menacing growl could be heard from the shadows.

When Bridget slowly moved towards the figure, her gelding threw its head back and snorted loudly, exhaling white puffs from its nostrils. She stood her ground, her hands tightening around the dagger’s hilt as she pulled it halfway from its scabbard.

“Go away!” the figure released a low growl, pain and distress evident in his voice.

Acri tried his best to remain hidden in the shadows, desperately covering a bleeding wound with the palm of his hand. He tried to summon his magic but agonizing pain took over his body. The rider drew closer to his hiding place when he finally surrendered from his injuries and fatigue. Everything went black and he fell to the ground.

Bridget sighed in relief, uttering a short prayer to the skies when she saw the man’s chest rise and fall in a steady pattern.

If I don’t start riding soon, my mission will be delayed. The Red Rider watched her charger as it impatiently trudged its hoof against the ground. She looked back at the unconscious man, her eyebrows furrowing with concern. But I can’t just leave him like this!

“Is there anything wrong with my face?” Acri asked as he placed the empty bowl back into the tray. The entire time he was eating, he noticed the young woman staring at him intently.

“You mean, besides the obvious?” Bridget asked, crossing her arms “Well, for starters, you’ve got huge red eyes” She tilted her head to the side, her blonde hair spilling down her shoulders “You also have large ears” She pouted at him, slowly shrugging her shoulders “And you’ve got big teeth”

“Do you normally point out people’s flaws when you first meet them?” Acri grimaced, the thought of verbalizing his observations about her height not far from his mind.

If only she has other shortcomings that I could point out (other than her childishly small height), then maybe I would have had a better response. But even then, Acri’s not entirely sure if bringing up her vertically-challenged measurement would be the best course of action for his safety.

“Not really! I usually wait for people to introduce themselves!” A few minutes of silence passed between them before the young woman crossed her arms and looked at him expectantly “So are you going to tell me your name or should I just call you Wolf?” Bridget replied, unaffected by Acri’s irritated reaction to his moniker “It’s a fitting name, considering you growled and resembled one when I first saw you!”

“Didn’t your mother tell you to run to run when you see the first signs of danger -”

“Bridget”

“Fine, then!” Acri sighed as he leaned closer to her, one of his eyebrows rising when he asked her a question “If I looked like a wolf when you first met me, why didn’t you run for safety?” He let out a wolfish grin, his voice turning into a low growl “If I happened to be a wolf, I would have easily eaten you in once piece”

“I’m confident that my horse would sooner trample you than see me harmed”

“You traitorous ingrate,” Suzu snarled at Angelique when a spell hit her in the chest, causing her to be knocked a few feet from where she previously stood.

Before she could find the strength to stand up, Acri fired another spell in her direction, red light shooting forth from his fingertips. When the spell hit the sorceress in the back, she collapsed on her chest and lost consciousness.

“Go!” Acri yelled at the war enchantress, prompting her to pick up her skirts and head towards the room the portal enchanter was being kept imprisoned.

When the alarms started blaring, Acri shook his head and let out a small groan, his arms rising in exasperation. If I live, I will pommel that stupid portal magician in the face!

A dozen of dark mages appeared from the hallway, shock written all over their faces when they saw the war mage standing in front of the sorceress’s unconscious figure. In the meantime… Acri turned to face them, his magic raising a wall of shadows from behind him.

A week after his arrival in Farset, Acri has become accustomed to Bridget – from her visits to her seemingly nonstop chatter. With the Red Rider nursing him back to health (rather aggressively, if he might add), he is quickly recovering from his injuries. Much to his chagrin, the price he has to pay is Bridget constantly using her sass and sarcasm to push his buttons. She’s even worse than Angelique!

Even after all the time they spent together, Acri still refuses to give her his name and let her see him use his magic. After days of enduring the nickname she gave him, he started teasing her back by making witty comments about her short height. How come she could get away with murder, while my quips against her are limited only up to three times a day! Acri winced when he remembered how she almost tied him up a tree by his feet when he once put a toe out of the line. Short people are so terrifying!

“How long was I passed out?” Acri asked as he dropped down a large stack of firewood – he hacked it to pieces with a magic ax when she wasn’t looking.

“Three days, give or take” Bridget grunted as she tried to carry a heavy pot into the campsite. Acri jogged to take the heavy object off her hands “In my defense, I would have been knocked into a coma due to exhaustion, so my count must be off!” Acri raised an eyebrow at her statement. Bridget merely flashed him with a bright smile, her hands placed on her chest as he rolled his eyes at her antics “You weren’t exactly an easy person to carry, you know?”

“Given your small stature, I wouldn’t have guessed!” Acri muttered, a half-smile forming on his lips. Bridget turned to kick him at the shins but he easily evaded her attack by quickly stepping to the side. “I meant, it must have been difficult carrying me around for days” Bridget held the ladle in front of her threateningly as she glared at Acri.

For such a short person, she has such a wild temper!

Once Bridget diverted her attention from the war mage to the boiling water in the pot, Acri chortled in between coughs “Especially for someone as vertically-challenged as you!” A stick from the untouched pile of firewood hit the war mage on the back of his head.

And that’s the last short-related joke for today!

Acri rubbed the sore spot and glared at her. Bridget stuck out her tongue at him then went back to cooking.

I feel sorry for her future husband already!

“For your information, I did not carry you around for days! Although I cannot just leave you in your weakened state, I still have my duties to attend to!”

“How do you manage to perform your duties if you’re looking after me?”

“Recently, the king has been frequently sending me out on errands,” Bridget said, tossing a sprig of parsley into the pot “I set up a small camp and dragged your scraggy bottom here” A small chuckle escaped from her lips as she dusted off her red cloak “In between my missions, I make detours so I could attend to your injuries!”

The bright glow of the fire made her hair look golden; the red color of her cloak added a pink hue to her face. When she turned to face Acri, he cannot help but stare in awe.

“It does not impede upon your work?” Acri asked, sitting on the grass as he watched her work “You’re not bothered by the trouble?”

“If there’s one thing that greatly bothered me, it’s your habit of talking in your sleep!” Bridget replied, her face scrunching up as she stirred the contents of the pot “You should really hear it for yourself. You sound so ridiculous!”

A few days later, Acri almost celebrated for joy when his bandages have come off. He rolled his shoulders back, delighted when he didn’t feel any pain. Although the wound left a scar in his abdomen, Bridget did a great job at patching him up.

Which reminds me…

“I got something for you, by the way!”

“Are you finally going to tell me your name?” Bridget perked up from her seat, her shoulders drooping when Acri shook his head “Well if it’s something that that you cooked, then I’m not hungry!” Bridget pouted at him, nibbling on a piece of bread. Acri furrowed his eyebrows at her statement “Don’t give me that look! You’re the one who thinks chives would go well with tea!”

“Just close your eyes!” Despite the deep frown on her face, Bridget did what she was told and shut her eyes tightly.

Acri raised his hand at eye-level, feeling the dark shadows balance itself at the palm of his hand. Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead as he locked tendrils of his magic into the weapon. The blade hardened when he wrapped his fingers wrapped around the hilt of the dagger.

Unlike the other weapons that I made, this dagger will not disappear…

“Now, open your eyes!”

“Wolf?” Bridget whispered, her eyes shining brightly as she eyed the pretty dagger “Where did you get this?”

“Does it matter?”

“Not really,” Bridget removed the dagger from its scabbard, her eyes widening as she admired the intricate details on the blade. “It’s just that I’ve never seen anything like it!” She tossed the dagger in the air and flipped it in between her hands “Thank you so much!”

No, it is I who should thank you!

“Silence, you fools!”

Acri was gathering firewood when he spotted the familiar black-red uniform of Chosen mages. His heart was beating wildly against his chest when he hid behind a tree, not far from where the mages are having a heated discussion.

“We only have one shot at this assignment and if we fail, we might as well return with our heads on a stick!” the leader of the group barked at his underlings, his voice could be heard loud and clear from the distance “The Red Rider is carrying vital information against the Chosen! Our mission is to make sure that she never delivers the message to the royals!”

They’re talking about Bridget!

Acri crouched low to the ground and narrowed his eyes, trying to get a closer look through the tall grass.

“How will we find the Red Rider?”

“Have you always been this obtuse or are you doing this just to annoy me?” the leader of the group hissed as he hit one of the smaller mages on the back of the head “The Red Rider – you absolute genius – is the one with the red cape and red horses!”

“But, sir, I’m colorblind!”

The leader of the group took a deep breath before slamming his face on the palm of his hands. The other mages continued with whatever they’re doing as if this occurrence wasn’t out of the normal for them.

“Among all the hundreds of mages that I could have been assigned with, why do I have to be stuck with you three?” After a few minutes of muttering curses and incomprehensible gibberish, the leader straightened up to glare at his subordinates.

“Why don’t we attack her elsewhere?” one of the mage underlings suggested, leaning against the base of a tree “Perhaps somewhere far from the elves of Farset?”

“The Red Rider rides one of the swiftest and most vicious herds of elven horses! If we don’t attack her now, we might not be able to stop her in time!” the leader explained as he pointed to the dust-covered path “The quickest way to the royals’ assemblage is through this route. In a few hours, the rider will be passing through this path. I expect you all to be prepared to take the rider down!”

“We’ll capture the Red Rider and drag her to the headquarters?” the colorblind mage asked, nodding slowly at the leader’s speech.

“No, you idiot!” the leader snapped, his neck turning a deep shade of red “We’re here to kill the Red Rider!”

I have to warn Bridget!

Acri was heavily panting when he finally reached the campsite, his heart beating harder than ever when he didn’t see the red-cloaked rider or her equally hostile steed around the area.

I’m such an idiot! I should have attacked those mages when I had the chance! Acri cursed when an explosion on the other side of the forest – followed by a torrent of indecent language that could only belong to the fairly short rider – caught his attention. He whipped his head so fast, he almost gave himself a whiplash.

“It’s an ambush!” Bridget cursed as she struggled to keep her horse calm, the impatient gelding far too eager to charge at the mages attacking them. Her steed snorted, stomping its hooves against the earth when a group of dark mages emerged into the clearing.

The Red Rider reached for her sword, strapped to the side of her mount’s saddle. She ducked just in time when a green beam of light nearly struck her and whirred past her shoulder. The tree behind her burst into flames when the spell made contact with it.

Bridget jostled when her horse reared abruptly, using its front legs to strike one of their assailants in the chest. He staggered on his feet and collapsed to the ground in a heap.

“You insolent wench!” one of the dark mages snarled as he pointed his fingers at her. A jet of yellow light struck the young rider in the chest.

Bridget was flung off her mount’s saddle, a deafening scream escaping from her lips as she fell to the ground.

Get away from her!

Acri’s legs started moving on their own when he heard Bridget scream. His eyes flashed with unfathomable fury as he jumped over a large boulder, a towering wall of weapons erupting from behind him.

With a roar, he directed the weapons towards the dark mage that struck Bridget. His opponent fell on his back and landed on the ground, his body writhing in pain.

Don’t touch her!

Acri leaped backwards, rapidly raising fragments of his magic to shield himself from his adversary’s blows. The barricade of shadows disintegrated into dust as he dropped his hands, twisting his magic at his fingertips and firing a bolt of lightning against the remaining mages.

Don’t you dare hurt her!

Acri stood in the center of the smolder, the smoke from the skirmish started to clear around him. Remnants of dust and ashes filled the air and covered the path like a fog. He turned around, his eyes narrowed as he fervently searched for the red-cloaked rider.

His heart plummeted down to his stomach when their eyes met.

“It’s okay, Acri!” Bridget whispered, looking at the war mage in the eye as she slowly limped towards him. Acri flinched when he realized that she called him by his real name “You don’t need to explain!”

“You know who I am?” Acri said, struggling to swallow the lump in his throat.

“Enchantress Angelique told me about you” Bridget nodded at him, placing her hand on his shoulder “When I first saw you, you were wearing your Chosen uniform. There aren’t many magic-users in this continent gifted with the same color as your eyes and temper” She paused as if she’s contemplating her next words “And when you failed to return home, Lord Enchanter Clovicus told each and every one of the Farset riders to keep an eye out for you”

“If you knew, why didn’t you say anything?”

“I don’t want to press the topic further if you’re not ready!” Bridget replied, removing her hand from his shoulder. Acri fought back the urge to hold her hands in his. “I also wanted you to put your trust in me – enough that you’d give me your name yourself”

Acri stared into her bright blue eyes, afraid that at any moment, he will wake up to find that all of this is just a dream. The gleam in her eyes and the genuine smile on her face assured him that she is telling the truth – that she accepts him.

“And you still liked me?”

Bridget cupped his face in her hands “I loved you”

[andrewluke]

24 Hour Comic: Mixed Up Media

Bob and Leon's new friendship is put to the text when Bob decides he's ready to face his fear of journalists. Mixed Up Media is a new Occupied 24 hour comic!

Occupied: Mixed Up Media was my fourth 24 hour comic, following Gran, Absence and Don’t Get Lost. Created in Farset Labs in 2014 it served as a rough draft for Occupied chapters 11-12: Optimising this for the web I followed the style Stephen Downey used at absencecomic.com. The images were merged in blocks of six with the easy free filesmerge.com making sure to keep altering the merge order as���

[lillarhma]

Definisi menyebalkan tapi bikin kangen

Bikin jurnal 4 resep h-beberapa jam, hafalin step by step resep, ngantri nimbang bahan wkwk tumpah2 mulu *pasti tremor* dalam 1 jam bisa jadi satu sediaan aja bersyukur banget, hal yg paling menakutkan ketika buat sediaan GAGAL harus ngulang lagi dari awal -,- dikejar waktu, diliatin dosen yg mondar mandir. Kangeen banget farset

21 Januari 2021

[sasmitasari]

Yips.. barusan habis baca bukunya gitasav yang rentang kisah. Tiba-tiba ada terbersit niat seukuran debu untuk nulis di tumblr. And here i am. Emang ya, hidup itu selalu naik dan turun. Kalo stabil mungkin kurang seru. Pasti ceritanya itu mulu, kalo naik turun yahhh adalah buat dicerita dengan beda-beda tema, kayak gitasav, bisa jadi buku. Dalam hidup, selalu ada pelajaran dikasih ke kita buat 'diajak berpikir'. Buat kita memakai otak dan hati ini mengfungsikannya biar jadi mengerti ada apa dan bagaimana. Semua orang pasti pernah merasa sedang berada dalam roller coaster kehidupan. Saya merasakan demikian sewaktu ndak berhasil bebas tes pas milih jurusan Teknik Tata Kota di UNHAS. Dunia rasanya menarik saya di pusaran paling dalam. Semua berada runtuh. Yaaah, pemikiran anak 17 tahunan kan...masih terlalu lebay. Ya wes, gimana mau lulus, waktu SMA jarang belajar, kerjanya nonton boyband korea sambil dance ndak jelas. Kadang belajar sih, tapi cuma pelajaran yang disuka, yang ndak disuka? Boro-boro, lebih-lebih kalo sudah ndak mengerti. mau bertanya sama siapa? Kakak dua-duanya kuliah. Waktu itu juga hape saya masih yang sebatas hape senter. Nokia 2100. Internet mana ada. Tanya orang tua? Mama dulu SMA nya di jurusan kesehatan, sudah ndak dapat pelajaran beginian, bapak? Bapak selalu tugas di luar daerah. Bapak polisi. Jadi dulu selalu ditugaskan bukan di daerah kami tinggal, karena sudah perwira jadi selalu saja dapat daerah tugas di luar. Tanya teman juga sama saja. Karena pulsa masih dibelikan mama, jadi mesti di pake sehemat mungkin, biar ndak dapat ceramah panjang. Ikut les? Boro-boro. Karena dulu kalo ada kegiatan seminggu pasti langsung jatuh sakit, mana ndak ada bapak bisa antar kemana-mana, makanya ndak pernah ikut les kecuali les yang diadakan sekolah pas mau UN. Ya makanya, kalo ada niat belajar, ketemu soal susah, baca contoh soal 10x masih belum mengerti, ya saya tutup bukunya, besoknya malah nyontek teman saja biar cepat, ya tapi tetap sudah itu dipelajari ulang biar tau caranya. Saya sadarlah, waktu SMA cuman seperti anak cewek yang hilang arah. Taunya pergi sekolah, pulang trus kerja PR kalo ada. Kalo ndak ada ya nonton korea. Belajar cuma kalo mau ulangan, ato besok ada guru killer yang mau mengajar dan pasti siswanya di tunjuk naik ke papan kerja soal. Pas kelas 3 SMA juga. Boro-boro mau berpikir kuliah dimana dan jurusan apa. Semuanya diatur mama. Masuknya UNHAS saja. Jurusan kesehatan. Kalo ndak dokter ya farmasi. UNHAS karena kakak-kakak saya juga disana. Kesehatan, karena rata-rata keluarga semua orang kesehatan. Cari kerja juga lumayanlah kalo jurusan kesehatan. Pas mulai pikir-pikir saya mau kuliah dimana dan apa, saya blank! Saya sukanya apa? Saya blank! Satu hal yang saya tau, saya suka gambar, suka. Bakat ndak -_-. Trus berpikir, kalo suka menggambar mungkin enak kalo kuliah jurusan arsitek. Keren juga liat orang tenteng-tenteng tas gambar, pake helm proyek, liat blue print trus ngawas proyek, apalagi kalo cewek, pasti kece. Makanya pas ndak lulus bebas tes di jurusan tata kota langsung down. Itu roller coaster pertama. Kedua itu pas membuang mimpi untuk kerja di industri yang telah lama diidam-idamkan sejak kuliah. Kuliah di jurusan yang dipilihkan dan ndak disuka adalah hal terberat dalam hidup. Harus mengerti fisiologi tubuh beserta reseptor tempat berikatan obat sampe rumus kimia obat yang berikatan dengan reseptor adalah seperti berusaha membaca buku brailer dimana saya ndak pernah tau abjad brailer. Yang dulu taunya cuma menyetarakan bilangan redoks, sekarang mesti tau rumus kimia senyawa bukan dalam bentuk nama saja, tapi apa yang berikatan dengan apa. Taunya cuma parasetamol itu obat demam, sekarang mesti tau bentuk senyawanya bagaimana, bagaimana kerjanya sampe bisa menurunkan demam, site kerjanya dimana, trus bagaimana nasib obatnya selama berada ditubuh. Bayangkan saja ini saya mesti masukkan di otak selama 3 tahun 10 bulan ditambah setahun Apoteker. Not my passion but i have to throught this way. Berat. Sangat. Tapi pas ketika semester 4 baru tau saya punya minat dimana. Di bagian teknologi sediaan farmasi. Sederhananya ini tentang bagaimana kita membuat sediaan seperti tablet, sirup dll. Dari yang hanya serbuk dan cairan bisa jadi sediaan farmasi yang di katakan sebagai obat ataupun kosmetik. Then i know, this is my passion. Maka jadilah saya asisten di lab teknologi farmasi. Atau lebih dikenal dengan lab farset. Saya disitu sampe masuk Apoteker. Pas studi Apoteker, adalagi keharusan untuk praktek kerja di Industri untuk lebih mendalami ilmu sebagai Apoteker. Maka saya memilih magang bekerja di Industri selama 2 bulan. Memilih Industri yang sangat terkenal, Boehringer Ingelheim yang bertempat di Bogor. Am really excited. Super excited. Dan karena inilah saya menjadi sangat sabar menjalani masa-masa studi Apoteker, mendalami ilmu Industri Farmasi biar bisa bekerja di Industri nantinya. Sayang beribu sayang, niat tak bersambut. Digagalkan oleh keinginan mama agar saya tidak bekerja di luar kota, cukup bekerja di daerah saya saja, ndak boleh keluar pulau. Padahal hanya tinggal tes kesehatan saja maka saya akan melenggang ke Industri Farmasi impian. Terjadilah roller coaster kedua. Impian patah seribu. Timbullah proses menyalahkan semua orang. Saya sampai tidak berbicara dengan orang tua selama beberapa hari saking marahnya. Saya tipe pemendam. Saya bukan orang yang sangat mudah mengeluarkan isi pikiran. Bukan tipe yang gampang membuat orang mengerti dengan pemikiran-pemikiran saya. Nanti pada hari kelima saat saya mulai kembali mengajak mama berbicara tentang impian saya (sebelumnya saya memikirkan masak-masak apa yang mesti saya sampaikan agar ia akan mengerti maksud saya). Tapi tetap saja. Beliau sulit untuk berkompromi. Dan cewek bertemperamen inipun meledak. I said everything in my head. I blame her for everything. That i never choose anything what i want. That was always her whose told this and that and i HAVE TO follow the instructions. "THIS IS MY LIFE. STOP TO GIVE ME THE INSTRUCTIONS! I CAN DO IT BY MY SELF!" Itu yang ssya katakan pada beliau. Am so mad at that time. The devil in me. You know what? I think i really..really..really..broke her heart at that time. Semarah itu. Dan kembali saya berhenti untuk berbicara pada mama. Dalam waktu yang lama. Dan beliau..dengan begitu baik hatinya, masih mengurus anaknya yang durhaka ini. Masih mau membujuk. Mengajak anak gadisnya yang ...(entahlah) untuk berdamai. She was crying. And told me kalo beliau cuma mau kasih yang menurutnya terbaik. Dan saya tetap pada pendirian. "Kasih saya kesempatan sekali untuk kembali daftar industri. Kalo ndak diterima saya menyerah". ini adalah penawaran terbaik menurut saya. Jika memang iya saya akan gagal, i will accept that. Bukan gagal karena tidak diberi ijin, tapi gagal karena sudah memberi usaha yang terbaik akan dapat saya terima secara logis. Kembali terulang. Ketika mendapat penawaran wawancara, saya kembali tidak diberi ijin untuk berangkat. Bisa saja saya berontak. Tetap berangkat. Uang bisa dipinjam sama kakak. Tapi satu hal melekat dikepala saya, ridho Allah ada pada ridho orang tua. Maka saya stay. Walaupun memendam kesal. Saya berdiam diri di kamar dalam waktu yang lama. Keluar cuma untuk mandi, makan, wudhu. Saya menenggelamkan diri dalam pemikiran sendiri. Mulai berpikir saya hidup mau kemana. Jalan hidup saya mau dibuat seperti apa. Saya mau jadi apa. Saya begini untuk apa. Saat seperti itu, saya butuh tempat untuk mengeluarkan isi pikiran. Dan itu cuman satu. Curhat dengan Allah. Dari sini saya perlahan-lahan menerima semuanya. Mulai sadar, ini ada yang mengatur. Kata gitasav dib bukunya, paling enak curhat ke Allah pas lagi down, itu bener banget. Rasanya tiba-tiba plong. And now, here i am. Bekerja di arena yang jauh dari pemikiran saya kemarin. Berhadapan langsung dengan orang adalah yang paling saya hindari. Karena menurut saya, mesin itu lebih bisa diatur dan diajak kompromi dibanding orang yang punya pemikiran sendiri. Nyatanya, sekarang saya ada di front line untuk memberikan penjelasan langsung tentang pengobatan yang diberikan kepada pasien. Saya benar-benar banyak belajar dari roller coaster kehidupan sendiri. Menjadi orang yang sulit untuk mengemukakan isi pikiran itu sulit. Saya harus mengamati orang lain dalam waktu yang lama untuk bisa klik dan menemukan kalo mereka bisa diajak bertukar pikiran, baru saya bisa berbicara bebas pada mereka. Dan sangat sulit menemukan orang-orang dalam kehidupan. Mereka banyak yang cuma mau tau karena penasaran, bukan benar-benar peduli. Karena hal ini pula, kemarin masalah hati jadi kandas. Sulit mengajaknya untuk bertukar pikiran. Dua jalan yang disatukan itu sulit. Apalagi jika tak ada yang bisa dijadikan bahan untuk membangun jembatan. Malah, orang yang bisa bikin saya mengeluarkan pikiran, tentang apapun itu, dan nyambung adalah orang yang berbeda. Hemmm.. hidup ini memang begitu. Tak pernah datar. Pasti ada saja penanjakan. Naik turun dan berbelok. Tapi dari sana justru ada pelajaran penting. Bahkan bisa mengubah diri kita jadi lebih waras..lebih baik. Yang penting satu. Jadikan petunjuk Allah Swt. sebagau penunjuk hidupmu. Sampai jumpa di tujuan.

[thesoundunique]

🎼 farset - Zoom 1.1 🎶

[jessanight]

Sketches I liked from global game jam that one weekend (plus bonus spy cam at farset labs c; )!! Our abomination was a party game where u all compete for ur dying king uncle’s inheritance,, There's more on instagram if u click through!!!

[calumdixon]

Learning Unity - Farset Labs Game Jam

I recently attended the Global Game Jam at Farset Labs, it is a 48 hour event where you attempt to create a game following the provided the theme.

This year’s theme was “Home”, the team I was in created a game called “Oh Deer” which followed a deer character that was returning from a night of drinking with friends. The goal of the game was to move through the house completing a range of tasks without making too much noise resulting in a game over. 

Ultimately the scale of the game was a bit too big for our team as we didn’t have much unity experience and it was also quite technically complicated too pull off in a short amount of time. So we didn’t get the entire game finished which is why I don’t have a clip to show to go alongside the game. 

People seemed to enjoy our game quite a bit because of the humour implemented throughout the sections we did have working. We even won one of the three game categories which was for learning from the game you worked on.

[atlanticcanada]

Halifax taxi driver charged with sexual assault for second time this week

Halifax is again grappling with multiple sex-assault allegations against taxi drivers in the city, with two cabbies charged in as many days amid the ongoing trial of a third.

Police said Tuesday that Seyed Abolghasem Sadat Lavasani Bozor, 74, was charged with sexual assault in an alleged incident last year.

They said at about 4:25 a.m. on Sept. 17, they responded to a report of a sexual assault that occurred about two hours earlier in Halifax.

Police said the taxi driver drove two female passengers to a residence and sexually assaulted one of the passengers, a woman in her 20s, while she was in the vehicle.

It's at least the fifth case of a Halifax taxi driver charged with sexually assaulting a female passenger since 2015.

The latest criminal charge against a local cabbie comes a day after police said a 36-year-old driver allegedly sexually assaulted a female passenger in his cab outside a residence on the Halifax peninsula early Sunday.

Const. John MacLeod said Monday police responded to a call for help around 5:45 a.m. and officers arrested the driver that afternoon.

The accused, who has not been named, was charged with sexual assault and released pending an appearance at Halifax provincial court. His taxi licence has been suspended.

Bozor, meanwhile, was scheduled to appear in provincial court Tuesday. Police said investigators with the Sexual Assault Investigation Team arrested him Nov. 27.

Police are not releasing where the sexual assault occurred, to protect the identity of the victim.

Erin DiCarlo, a spokeswoman for the Halifax Regional Municipality, told CTV Atlantic that Bozor's licence was suspended Tuesday -- six weeks after he was charged.

Also this week, former cabbie Bassam Al-Rawi is facing a retrial for allegedly sexually assaulting a female passenger in his vehicle in 2015.

Meanwhile, last spring, Halifax taxi driver Seyed Mirsaeid-Ghazi -- accused of groping a female passenger -- was found not guilty of sexual assault.

In another case, the Crown dropped a sexual assault charge against cabbie Farset Mohammad last May, saying there was no realistic prospect of conviction.

In response to a growing demand for female taxi drivers in Halifax, Crissy McDow launched Lady Drive Her, an airport service with all-women drivers in 2017.

"We launched around the same time (Al-Rawi) was in court and it was kind of a coincidence," she said Monday.

"I hear all kinds of stories -- women who have been assaulted and they're terrified to get into a taxi, and I can understand that," she said.

DiCarlo noted Tuesday that a report on the region's taxi and limousine industry, including on possible safety measures, will be going to Halifax councillors next month.

With files from CTV Atlantic's Amanda Debison.

A 74-year-old male taxi driver has been charged with sexual assault. Halifax Regional Police say Seyed Abolghasem Sadat Lavasani Bozor was scheduled to appear in Halifax Provincial Court today. @CTVAtlantic

— Amanda Debison (@ADebisonCTV) January 8, 2019

from CTV News - Atlantic http://bit.ly/2FjKUlm